Sometimes... it's not that simple

Not flesh of my flesh

Nor bone of my bone,

But still miraculously

My own.

Never forget

For a single minute:

You didn't grow under my heart

But in it.

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A sweet, immensely sweet poetry. But I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Explaining adoption to your child is never a simple thing. I went through many, many articles about how to talk to your child about adoption. Those research brought me to other articles on other parties’ point of view, the birthmothers’, the adult adoptees’. And what I read send shivers down my spine.

I read through the experiences of birthmothers, their grieve, their loss and I left feeling I must be the most wicked person on earth for separating a child from his natural mother. Another voice reminded me: but it was her choice too, you didn’t force her to do that, you returned him when she asked you to, and then you laid out all the options she could’ve chosen from, you’d offer to take care of the medical costs, the future education and living cost if she wants to keep her child, you offerred to raise him together and she eventually decided to give him for adoption anyhow. Why should you feel wicked?

Because I saw the tears in her eyes, when she whispered good-bye and gave me Darrel’s legal papers.

Because when I offered to send her photos, she looked away and said ‘no, thank you ma’am, it would be too difficult’. And I can see the agony she was feeling.

Because I heard her whispered to him when she visited our home: ‘be a good boy, don’t make your mom worry’ and though she didn’t cry then I could tell it took all her strength not to. A strength I may never find in myself.

Because even as I laid out all the options to her, my heart still selfishly prayed fervently but oh please please please let him be mine.

Because even though I felt aghast when the nurses at the hospital told her that she should’ve let me raised Darrel instead of her because I would’ve been able to give him a better future, I only fell silent and didn’t contradict them. For this, I’ll forever be ashamed of myself.

That single statement left me wide awake at nights thinking: does it mean that only the haves can raise children, are we judged as bad or good parents based on our economical status? My husband didn’t came from a rich family, he’d spent part of his childhood in a semi-permanent house, but his family is one of the most stable, loving and happy family I’ve ever known.

Who are we, to be so arrogant to determine who is the better parent? And I’ve seen enough of rich, spoiled brats who are emotionally disturbed, I’ve read enough about rich children with tons of toys but no mom & dad to play with because they are too busy working, I’ve seen children who prefer their nanny over their mothers.

Where did we ever get the idea that a richer parent means a better parent? I’m a human being, with my own faults and flaws, and so is she. As simple and as complicated as that.

Where am I going with this? Nowhere, I’m afraid, for I haven’t found the answer yet. I kept second-guessing myself, did I do this in the best interest of my child, or to fulfill my own longing to have a child? That is a guestion I need to ask myself – point blank; that my heart needs to answer honestly and for that I need to look deep down into my soul. It’s never a black and white situation, there’s no such thing as black & white in this life.

What scares me more is when I read through the adult adoptees’ point of view and experts’ opinion about adoptees.

Research and testimonials I’ve read so far described some common issues faced by adoptees:

1. Feeling rejected and abandoned by their birth parents, accompanied by feeling grief and loss.
2. A damaged sense of self-esteem. There is a tendency to think “something must have been very wrong with me that my own parent gave me away”
3. Insecurity, lack of trust, dissociation.
4. Sense of guilt for wondering about his/her birthparents, they may feel ungrateful towards the adoptive parents even for thinking about this.

And that’s just to name some examples. Introducing the idea of the “chosen” child, as sweet as it may sound, brings another different set of problem. The child may feel pressure to live up to a certain standard, being the chosen child. He may feel that in order to be our child, he needs to fulfill certain qualities. While actually parents’ love is every child’s God given right, it should be and is unconditional.

I used to think that if we provide a loving and stable family environment, if we can keep a positive attitude towards the adoption concept, we’d be able to keep him from feeling all of the above. Unfortunately, according to those research, no. Though a loving environment will help him in overcoming those emotions eventually, most likely he would have to go through those emotions first. And it’s not going to be easy.

I watched my son sleeping last night and again fervently prayed that God will grant me the wisdom, the strength, love, patience and whatever it takes for me to help him go through what would unavoidably be a very difficult and emotional period ahead. If there’s a way to shield him from this pain, I’d go down that road, but unfortunately that’s not the way real life works.

Maybe it’s like what my husband says: Love him, expect nothing back. And pray for the best.