A Day in the Life of a Gladney Intern

I have now been working at Gladney for a month. It’s been a crazy whirlwind of an internship, and I can say with certainty that I have learned more than I ever thought possible. I truly can’t imagine spending my summer anywhere else. From sending emails to adoptive parents, to getting documents notarized in Austin, to getting visas for a group of kiddos about to come to their forever home, Gladney (especially my boss, Beth Whitacre) has really shown me what goes on day in and day out in intercountry adoption. In all honesty, the job can be frustrating. Now that I’ve established myself as the Colombian Waiting Children advocate, I’ve seen how many kids there are who are freed for adoption that I just don’t have time to fight for in my three months as the International Adoption Intern. On top of that, I was recently told I wouldn’t receive any new reports or photographs of over ten of the kids I’m advocating for until I find homes for three older sibling groups I’m currently working

Yesterday we had a new hire/intern orientation that equipped us with knowledge and joy to be a part of Gladney. During this day, however my Gladney story whispered in the halls. We took a beautiful tour of our museum in the visitor center, which I personally loved. It was beautiful to hear how historical adoption is and how many hearts fought to make it what it is today, a loving decision celebrated by many. At the end of this tour, we ended up in a place I have walked by many times in the past 6 years. I knew it was there, always praised the Lord when I saw that another family was created in that room, prayed for the women who left there without a piece of their heart, but never once did I think of going into the placement room. Yesterday I saw those four walls for the first time in 6 years and I was surprisingly emotional, but not for the obvious reasons one would assume. It was emotional because it reminded me why I love Gladney. Because it is my story, passion, and my heart is abu

If you know me, you know I never shut up about adoption. I can, and will, talk your ear off about anything and everything adoption for as long as you’ll let me. However, the toughest question I’ve ever been asked on the subject is probably, “What’s it like to be adopted?” Although I typically shy away from this specific question, I’ll answer it here: I really, truly do not know. In the mere twenty years and twenty-three days I have been alive, I have never felt “adopted.” I have never felt like there was a time in my life where I didn’t belong in the Twomey family; it’s just not something I consciously think about. I’ve got two awesome parents, three wacko siblings, a fantastic grandma, and a really intelligent dog, all of whom I love more than anyone and anything else on this planet. Now, I don’t confuse that with the knowledge that I am adopted. My bedtime story growing up was the story of my dad’s trip to Texas to come get me when he got the news my birthmother was in