So I’ve been thinking about our adopted daughter’s mother a lot lately. I’ve blogged about that a few times. For you mothers with your adopted children at home with you, do you ever still think of her? Do you ever wish that you could have just one conversation with her? Ask her questions like…
Why are you choosing to adopt your child? Does your heart hurt so bad sometimes that you want to be swallowed by it? Do you dream of your daughter or son? What are your dreams for their lives? Do you want her to be a strong and independent woman? What kind of family do you wish your child will have? How do you want her hair to look? Who does she look like? Does she have your eyes, your dad’s toes? Did she get that lovely voice from you? Can you believe that she is walking across a stage and getting that college degree? Did you ever imagine that your child would be such a brilliant, wonderful, tender individual?
I want to know those things. I am trying to find how I can reconcile the fact that I won’t know these answers for our adopted daughter. I can look at Tobin’s feet and know that they are his aunt’s (yes, Aunt Sissy…they are yours!) I can see all the incredible drawings Caroline comes up with and immediately think of my Grandmother Pat and her amazing artwork.
I desperately want to have those same thoughts and answers for our daughter. Why can’t I give her the same answers? Why does it have to be so unfair?
I would love to hear your thoughts in this part of the adoption journey.
I was born in Jos, Nigeria many years ago. I spent the next nineteen years living in Liberia, Kenya and Ethiopia.
Yes, I think of this. My deepest regret would be if I couldn’t provide baby OM with every answer. If he seeks to find out from whom he came, from whom he got his eyes and nose and whose voice he has and I can’t give him that information…I suppose that terrifies me the most although I know that if I can’t provide the answers they were never going to be available. But still…I pray for strength and knowledge with this if it happens that I receive little to no information.
Cindy
Melodie, I wonder about the birth father more than the birth mother. Maybe that’s because we adopted a boy?
In our case we know why the birth mom chose adoption. knowing does not always make it easier, it can make it more complicated for the child later on in life.
We compensate in other ways. I tell our son things that I know…
I know God knitted him in his birth mother’s tummy.
I know that God knew him before he was born.
My husband tells our son that he hugs like his mom (me).
My husband tells him that he has a thousand facial expressions, just like his mother (me) and so on….
Your questions are very specific, and I think they center around identity and belonging. To share a gift or a trait with a family member is a way of being “marked” as a member of the family, an insider. A closed adoption cuts (rips?) the ropes that tie us to a particular family, and we begin the process of binding up the frayed ends into a new community. I can’t imagine adoption (as God-ordained as it is) completely overcoming that loss of identity and belonging.
I don’t think about our daughter’s birth family very much. Somewhere in my mind I wonder if the questions you’ve posed are mirrored by harsh and frustrating realities–Why did I get pregenant? How will I care for this child? I imagine the process for the birth mother to be fearful and upsetting. Fearful of the crushing reality of poverty and upsetting that she is powerless to have any other birth plan for her adoption.
When the ropes are ripped in that moment when the child is separated from the mother–the trauma goes both ways. We’re not only adopting a unique and special child–but a part of another woman’s (and man’s) very soul. God knit our child together out of the stuff of two strangers to us. We will take in that creation and love it as our own–to the best we can and only by the grace and mercy of God.
HI, my friends. I think of this often. Lately I’ve been struck by how much of our personalities our daughter seems to have received. I marvel at the fact that God knows Dano and I so well that he brought these two precious girls to us who seem to fit our personalities so well – both complementing each other.
The other day, Lian quietly sat on the floor listening to Chinese classical music playing. She had such a look of peace on her face. She does not do the same for European classical music. I found myself tearing up as I wondered if her mother used to play a lot of music in her home or if she has that same look of wonder that Lian gets on her face.
Lian is so excited that she has a freckle on her arm just like me. She said that when adults get older they stop getting tan like her. I told her that she would always have beautiful tan skin, just like her birth mother and father. She seems okay with this answer.
Adoption makes you realize what a gift children truly are. I marvel at the fact that I am so blessed to have been given these precious souls to raise. True their souls are part of another’s and you may find yourself surprised by how you suddenly feel so connected to a people and culture so different from your own. There is a spiritual bonding that happens in adoption, that is far deeper than any physical representation.
Jennifer
The longer we have Igor home, the less I think about his birth parents. When they pop into my head I pray for them but other than that Igor gives me little time for reflection.
Honestly, I think of Igor as “our” son, it takes effort to remind myself that he is adopted. He has become grafted into our family… in a way that I could not have imagined before the adoption.
Thinking about his birth parents may change as Igor asks more questions about them.
I love what your husband wrote- “We will take in that creation and love it as our own–to the best we can and only by the grace and mercy of God”
I often say that it is only by God’s grace and mercy that we are Igor’s parents.
candy
PS- I’m so glad your tooth is finally “done”. I go back in July for more dental work.