I have been really into puzzles lately. No, not the intricate 1000 piece puzzle where the colors all look very similar and the shapes are tiny that you are probably doing. I am talking about a BIG 24 piece ocean scene. A few times when we have got to the end of our puzzle the girls shoulders drop as they realize we are missing a few. We have all been there. And so the search beings. I get down on hands and knees, ripping pillows off couches, to find that missing piece. Sometimes we don’t ever find it, but when we do, my girls light up as they put one more piece into their puzzle.
My girls are so little and obviously can’t comprehend or understand the depths of their story yet. And there are many days where I find myself wishing we could rip the bandaid off, or that we could jump to the teenage years where we can have real open, and honest conversations. Putting it all out on the table. Talking through their emotions and answering any questions they have. Sometimes it feels like I am carrying around this big secret (even though it’s not a secret) that I know about their lives that they don’t, and it hurts. My mind starts to wonder how they will feel, and the thought of me not being able to do anything to fix what has been broken.
When I was creating Kindred and working on our core values – I wrote that it would be a place to hold others stories with care. I have always loved this imagery as we are often given the gift of hearing someone else’s stories in this place, and that is never to be taken lightly. I have always thought about holding others in the TRIAD stories with care, adoptive parents respectfully listening to adoptees, adoptees listening to birth moms – etc… and this week it struck me a little different. One of my greatest privileges – one of my greatest responsibilities to my children is to hold THEIR stories with care.
A few days ago I was listening to Claire of Project Dawn and Ashley of Big Tough Girl talk about grief and trauma from the perspective of a birthmom and adoptee – they bought up how damaging the phrase is that “she loved you so much she gave you way.” From a birthmom prospective Ashley shared how unhelpful the “brave and selfless” narrative can be, and can often aid in birth moms not realizing their grief. And Claire talked about how confusing it was a child to hear that this person loved her so much that she gave her away to someone else. I feel so much pressure, weight, in the words that I choose as I slowly and carefully hand my girls’ story back to them. I talked with Claire and Ashley about this after their live, because birth moms DO love their child, AND they did place them for adoption. So how do we say this phrase better? In our conversation two things stood out to me:
ONE
Sometimes the smallest shift in our language makes a big difference. What if instead of saying “She loved you so much she placed you for adoption” we said something like “She loved you so much and in that moment she had make a really hard decision.”
AND TWO
Even if we say all the things perfectly (which let’s be real – that’s not going to happen) we can’t protect our children from any hurt or loss that comes from their story. Loss and pain is a part of adoption.
My partner and I always said we would rather sit in the hard questions with our children than not have any information to give them at all.
So we will carry their stories tenderly and with great care until we can hand little bits and pieces back to them as they grow so that they can put it together. Not giving away a piece of their story that they deserve to collect first. And the truth is, I don’t have all the pieces that they need. So if and when the time comes, and they want to go on that hunt, you better believe I will be on hands and knees, ripping pillows off couches, to find what they are looking for.
