Daring to journey through adoption means entering into a world of brokenness.
Stepping into this arena as an adoptee or adoptive parent takes immense courage.
For any person walking this planet, our life began the same… being carried in the womb of a mother.
Yet, what we can take for granted is what happens between a mother and her child in-utero and upon birth.
I had 2 sons by birth. They were planned pregnancies and I wanted each of them wholeheartedly.
I rubbed my growing belly imagining their features. I touched their little feet as they protruded in alien likeness against my side. I spoke to them softly and lovingly. I formed a bond to them even before I set eyes on their precious faces.
I longed for the day I would get to hold them in my arms. To kiss them, snuggle them, smell them, was a day we celebrated with great joy and expectation.
But I pause to think about other children. Ones like me, possibly. Who didn’t enter the world with the same wholehearted desire of their arrival.
Who’s presence and future would require a life-altering choice by the woman who would carry them for 9 months.
A choice that would mysticize their past and complicate their future.
There are many children who’s mother did want them and love them while in-utero, yet at some point after their arrival into this crazy world, they were purposefully separated from her.
There are many children who were ignored, resented, drugged, inebriated, abused and unwanted while in their mother’s womb only to be further wounded after their birth by purposeful separation.
Adoption results because through relinquishment or abandonment, a child’s physical connection to their birth mother is broken.
Because of the reality of these circumstances and what has to occur in order for a child to enter into an adoptive family, daring to journey through adoption means one must welcome brokenness.
As an adoptee I’ve had to face the sobering reality of brokenness in these terms, and it is something that has left an imprint on my soul.
Whenever I am asked about my birth mother and whether I have any knowledge of her and my father, a black and white silhouette flashes before me.
There is no face. There is no image of their hair type, eye color, cheek structure, lip shape. I have no recollection and for as much as I have worked to be at peace with that, I am always left with a sense of wonderment:
Wouldn’t it be nice if I just knew…
…what she/he looked like?
…where she/they lived?
…if she/they wanted me?
…why she/they chose to let me go?
The shards of brokenness as an adoptee cuts me to my core, but I cling to the fact that wounds can be healed and broken does not mean worthless.
There is great responsibility as adoptive parents to not only welcome, but embrace the brokenness of your child’s circumstance.
Responsibility to speak words that tell your child the brokenness is indeed a part of their story and you will hold the pieces with love and tenderness.
To embrace them through understanding their brokenness and holding them tightly as they process and question it.
To do anything less is to minimize the pain of a broken connection between a mother and a child at the most fundamental level.
Adopted children need you to help glue these broken pieces back together. Our stories will never be perfect, without blemish or scars, but you can help us make sense of the brokenness and help us see our value despite it.
Mine is but one story, one experience. I hope you will share how the broken pieces are/aren’t coming together in your own journey through adoption.