Lora Brown is the kind of woman who lives by calendars and to-do lists. She hates it when dirty dishes pile up in the sink and when books aren't neatly aligned on the shelf. Even her work as an estate-planning attorney in Seattle progresses at a predictable pace: "My clients are either dead or they're not planning to be dead anytime soon. Nothing is last minute."

But when Brown adopted 22-month-old Talley from Bulgaria last year, her comfortable routine crumbled. "Having a two-year-old dumped in the middle of my lovely, quiet life was like jumping into a bath of ice water," she says, laughing. Of course, every first-time parent struggles to tread those icy waters. For Brown, recalibrating to kid culture has meant letting herself be "less than perfect." Over time, she has learned to stop worrying about doing everything right-and start enjoying the adventure.

Adopted herself when she was a baby, Brown had no doubt that she could love a child she didn't conceive. Nor did she yearn to experience childbirth again. At 24, Brown had given birth to a son whom she placed for adoption. At the time, she recalls, "I didn't want my child to be raised without a father. And I was not ready to be a mother."

Still, the experience motivated Brown to start taking life more seriously. She enrolled in law school, landed a job at a Seattle law firm and began building a career as an attorney. When Brown turned 40, without a prospective partner in sight, she decided that she could now pursue parenthood alone. "I had more of a sense that I could offer a child a full life by myself," she says. After working with a client who was raising funds for an orphanage in Bulgaria, Brown went there to adopt a child. She knew she'd likely be adopting a toddler since Bulgarian children aren't referred for adoption until they're at least a year old.

Still, the reality of bringing home rambunctious 2-year-old Talley was jolting. For the first few months, Brown was surprised to feel as if she were babysitting someone else's child. She felt guilty for not being overjoyed every second of the day, then immediately beat herself up about it. In her worst moments, she started second-guessing the whole decision. "I began thinking, Maybe I'm not meant to be a mother. Maybe I was right fifteen years ago when I chose not to do this."

Brown's new-parent ambivalence is completely normal, says Diane Lostrangio, executive director of New Hope Child and Family Agency in Seattle. When Lostrangio visits adoptive mothers, she asks them, "Do you feel like a mom yet?" It's a carefully worded question, meant to let them know that it's okay to wrestle with conflicting feelings.

And that's true for any parent. Creating a bond happens over time, says Chicago psychologist Joyce Bookshester. While older first-time parents like Brown are often better prepared to parent than their younger peers, they may have a harder time giving up established routines.

Gradually, Brown is making the adjustments. One morning, as she tried to hustle out the door to get to a meeting at work, Talley suddenly darted back inside, leaving Brown waiting in jaw-clenched irritation. Talley had forgotten to hug the cat. "Bye, Kodiak, I wuv you," Talley shouted as she finally squeezed past Brown, who was standing at the door. Suddenly, Brown's need to rush to work evaporated. "I realized that her priorities were straight, and mine were the ones needing attention. That tenderness is exactly what I need in my life."

Brown has also recognized that she needs a sounding board. She joined a support group for single adoptive moms that meets twice a month. Together they're learning to let things go, like unbalanced checkbooks and undone laundry. Sometimes, after Talley is in bed, Brown slumps in front of the TV with a glass of wine and does absolutely nothing. "I could be baking organic snacks like the other neighborhood moms, but I'm giving myself permission to do it my way."

In the pre-Talley days, that would have meant hanging out with friends at a pub. Now, mother and daughter belt out "Wastin' away again in Margaritaville" as they drive to the dry cleaners. Not exactly "Itsy Bitsy Spider," but so what? asks Brown. "We're discovering the right way to do it-together."

Giving Back
Adopting internationally, even on an attorney's salary, can strain one's finances. Lora Brown's expenses totaled more than $24,000. To cover it, she refinanced her house. She also opened an account with the National Heritage Foundation, which lets people create their own charitable foundations. Rather than use the $4,000 friends donated for adoption fees, Brown opted to buy supplies for Talley's orphanage. Her friends loved the idea. "The nurse's station didn't have toilet paper," she says. "They don't have money for things we take for granted."-LC

Laura Christianson is a freelance writer in Seattle who specializes in adoption issues.

© 2003