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I wish she’d been smart enough, or loving enough, to realize everybody has burdens that crush them, only they don’t give up their children.
While reading The Secret Life of Bees, this sentence made me put down the book, get a drink of water and retreat to the backyard which is my quiet place for thinking and self-reflection. It hit me, hard, the words of a daughter who had been left behind by her mother. I have always said and believe it to the core of my being that we, as birth and adoptive parents, can learn enormous amounts about our own children and parenting styles by listening to the words of adoptees. But this hit me hard.
True, it is fiction. (And good fiction at that. If you haven’t read the book, read it.) True, this fictional teenaged girl, whose story isn’t exactly a story of adoption, isn’t the voice of all adoptees everywhere. Yet they are words that cut like a knife through everything you think you are doing for a purpose. Why do they cut so deep?
Well, honestly, they’re true.
There are plenty of expectant mothers and parents who are already in the midst of parenting their children who come across hard times. I’ve actually met another mother from my home area that has the same kidney disorder I do and had the same complications that I did during her pregnancy. She parented, I placed. Financial problems can sideswipe even the most careful of penny-pinchers. Fear and doubt hit almost all parents at some point in their parenting careers. And yet a minority of these people place their children for adoption or, in the case of our fictional character, abandon them in some form or fashion.
So what will my answer be when the Munchkin says, “Well, so-and-so had the same kidney disorder that you do and had all of the same scary complications. She couldn’t work. Her partner left her. Her parents weren’t supporting her. But she kept her baby. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you?”
Truth be told, I don’t have an answer that would properly suffice the questioning of the little girl I “left behind.” In the words of others, I did what I thought was best at the time. I did think it was best at the time because I had the coercion of an unethical agency and some miscommunication between myself and my parents. I was trying my hardest. I simply failed to see past the immediate situations of health problems, financial hardship and a complete lack of support and onto to the future. In crisis mode, it’s hard to see the big picture beyond the chaos of the immediate present. Many other mothers and fathers who relinquished children for adoption fall into the same boat. For some reason, they couldn’t envision their futures beyond the temporary problems.
Even worse than being unable to recognize or realize the endless possibilities of the future is the assumption, from the fictional character and many other adoptees, that the mother (meaning me) did not love the child enough to stick around and parent. It’s a dagger to the heart of most every birth parent. I acknowledge that many adoptees have felt similar in fashion regarding the reasons they were placed for adoption. I am fully aware that even with my involvement the Munchkin could feel like this at one point or another or just in general. However, the truth remains that I always loved her. How does one impart that?
I’m fully aware that someday, in some way, the Munchkin will verbalize a question like this and I will have to come up with an appropriate answer. Without reading adoptee blogs and books that make me think, I don’t know if I would be preparing this early for a question that might not happen for quite some time. Perhaps that will lead to over-preparing. I’m just hoping it helps me say something instead of standing there, speechless, as she awaits my answer.
Perhaps she’ll be angry like the fictional character. I will accept her anger; I’ve been angry at myself for long enough. Perhaps she will be accepting; I can hope, right? Perhaps she will have even more follow-up questions that cause me to dig deeper into my psyche than I’m even imagining today, not that she hasn’t already caused me to do that on occasion! Whatever the case may be, I hope that my involvement in her life and my unconditional love have shown her, prior to the point of interrogation, that she has been an important part of my life. She was never something minor, something to “give away.” I hope that my words and actions in between now and then accompanied by my words at that point in time will confirm that I have always loved and cherished her being. Even if she throws angry teenage words at me, I will love her.
That doesn’t mean I won’t cry alone in my room after said conversation but it means that I will always love her.
How have you, as a birth parent, prepared for such a conversation? If you’ve already had said conversation, how did you handle it? How did your child handle it? Do you have any advice for birth parents yet awaiting such a discussion? Tomorrow, I’ll hit on some posts that others have recently made based off of this quote and the questions I asked.
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For more, read:
1. Ethical Issues for Adoptees by Jan Baker.
2. Adoptee Wisdom by Jan Baker.
3. Pregnant? Need Help to Make a Decision? by Jan Baker.
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Quote from The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. Photo Credit.
Is it completely beyond the realm of the possible that your daughter could be happy for all the people who love her and content with her life?
Jenna, we all wonder what we might have done, with the best of intentions, that will mess our kids up someday. I don’t mean to minimize your angst, but I do hope you know that we (parents) all share it in some way, shape or form.
Sandra; while that’s possible, if I don’t prepare, I look like an uncaring dumb-butt if she approaches me with such a subject, desiring immediate answers, don’t I? Though I don’t know one adoptee that hasn’t at least wondered to even the most innocent version of this question: the answer to “why” the adoption took place. That’s what this gets at the heart of: the why.
Lisa; Ah, we mess up our kids all of the time. The point I’m trying to make is that, regarding birth parents and this particular issue, preparing for such words, in advance, could benefit the adoptee in question. (As well as yourself since having something in mind to reply with could save your heart from completely stopping.)
I disagree Lisa. One of the main issues firstmothers usually tackle is the concept of “how could I leave my child behind?” This quote speaks directly to that truth. Is there a similar issue that every single parenting parent has to tackle that rocks you to your core?
And here’s the thing, it’s not just us who know this question is there. There is a good probability that our children will struggle with this issue too.
Magic brings up the point that birth parents deal with, living in the unknown: the probability that our children will struggle with the issue as well. No, they may not. Or, they may and they may not verbalize it. Or, they may and not feel it to the extreme that this quote brings with it. Or, they may actually deal with it and verbalize it in a much harsher fashion.
The fact of the matter is: birth parents have absolutely no clue as to how their child will respond to their own adoption. Open or closed, the answers are unknown until the subject is verbalized or, sometimes, not verbalized. (Thus leaving the birth parent (and adoptive parents) wondering if it’s a case of a happy, well-adjusted child or a case of not wanting to upset either set of parents…)
Asking questions like I’ve done here (and will give you some “answers” to in tomorrow’s post) only prompt birth parents to consider a myriad of possibilities and begin mentally preparing for such discussions. If it never happens, it never happens.
I’m a Girl Scout at heart. I like to be always prepared. I don’t see a problem with being prepared either. Being caught off guard could cause an adoptee to think that the birth parent never considered such questions and that the adoptee didn’t matter much in the long run to the biological parent.
Lots of stuff going on, no?
“The point I’m trying to make is that, regarding birth parents and this particular issue, preparing for such words, in advance, could benefit the adoptee in question. (As well as yourself since having something in mind to reply with could save your heart from completely stopping.)”
And it is a point well made!
Thank you (and Magic) for helping those of us who don’t wear your shoes to understand the important (and life altering) issues that birth/first parents face.
I hope that neither of you misconstrued my well meaning but lame attempt at support as minimizing the very huge issue that you’ve addressed.
Again, thank you for helping not only birth/first parents but helping to educate the rest of us too.
Lisa; I hope that neither of you misconstrued my well meaning but lame attempt at support as minimizing the very huge issue that you’ve addressed.
Nope! I was just addressing your comment in case someone else came along and thought in that manner in case I had done a shoddy job at writing the point into the post. HA! Also, some thinking aloud came into play!
I would never accuse you of shoddy writing. It is a great blog – and great comments. Thank you!
Sandra wrote:
“Is it completely beyond the realm of the possible that your daughter could be happy for all the people who love her and content with her life?”
Sure it’s possible, but one possibility does not negate the other. Jenna’s daughter could be completely content and happy with her adopted life and still wonder why her surrender had to happen or even feel a sense of loss at not living life with her first family. It’s especially easy to understand how someone could potentially feel that way, given two sets of equally terrific parents, as the Munchkin clearly has.
Jenna, you asked how other birthparents prepare for the big question. As for me, I think about it all the time. I write about it in my journal, and revisit the subject pretty regularly, since perspectives do change over time. Basically, there is no easy, simple answer to why. An awful lot of factors had to come together to make what happened happen.
As Heather said, I think even for the most innocent question asked of why, parents need to be prepared with appropriate answers. Those answers change over time, not only because of how she mentioned our perspectives change, but with what is age appropriate from age to age. What you tell your adult adopted child might differ greatly from how you answer the questions at five, ten and fifteen.
Thanks, Jenna … and Heather. Points well made and taken.
I spend a lot of time trying to prepare for questions I know will be coming from Sam and Cj, and would consider it a real gift if they had access to the sort of answers … and love … you provide your children. You, yourselves, are the gift.
Not to negate anything, just looking from the POV of a parent who can’t have a you for my children …
Sandra; *nods* As I’ve said for a friend of mine whose son is from an international adoption, “While I can’t be your son’s birth mom, I can offer advice and be there as necessary.” Yet another reason why birth and adoptive parents could benefit from getting along.
heh
Absotively! It’s the loving-the-kids bit that counts.
I have no doubt that words from a birth mom will someday sooth my children in ways I won’t be able to.
Well, Jenna, in all honesty I would say I can totally see how you would want to roll that one around in your mind before it actually becomes a real-time conversation. I think I would probably feel the exact same way.
Just wondering, it sounds like your r-ship with the adoptive parents is a great one. They will be a help to with this, do you think?