31 October 2004
It took several months for me to get behind the idea that we were going to adopt a baby. My wife, Alice, worked with me patiently, persistently, during that time. Eventually I was able to take the leap of faith, passing over presumptions about my own genes, to find grounding in my long-held but untested belief: that love could grow from commitment.
Now we were in China, August 1985, with a newborn child in our arms, and Alice needed reassurance. We were both exhausted, stressed by travel and sweltering weather, disoriented by a strange environment, dazed by negotiations that flew by us.
Neither of us could think clearly in those circumstances. But I assured her that we didn’t have to think. We had only to have faith in ourselves. The decision to come here and take a child into our lives was sound because it had come from our sound judgments and a sound process. This was not the time to second-guess ourselves.
I have never regretted that decision, but I have often relished the
paradox: sometimes we need to reach within ourselves to find clarity and
judgment. At other times we need only think clearly enough to realize that we
are not thinking clearly.