Adoption
When Your Gain is Someone Else's Loss
As we move toward finalizing our sweet little one's adoption, the joy and thankfulness can be overwhelming at points. It is such a gift to be a part of this beautiful little girl's life. I constantly am thanking God that I get to be a part of her life, and that she gets to be a part of mine. I am in awe and so thankful that I get to be her mommy forever. It's beautiful.
I keep in contact with our daughter's birth family through emails and pictures. The family is so thankful that my husband and I are willing to keep this contact with them, and offer future meetings with her biological siblings. Our sweet little one isn't old enough to know who her birth family is, but we are allowing that connection to continue because we know it will, one day, mean the world to her. We will never hide that she is adopted, even though we've had her since infancy. We will always be completely honest with her about her situation and how she came to us. But, to have this connection with her birth family will spare her from missing pieces of her life that so many adopted children have.
I recognize that not all adopted children can have contact with their birth families, and that this is a very unique, and sometimes difficult, opportunity. And, when a birth family does not sign off their rights before they lose their rights in court, the judge can order that they never have contact with the child again until at least 18 years of age (a lot of times this is to protect the child). Our daughter's birth family knew they would lose their rights, and loved her enough that they didn't want to risk that ruling, so they made that difficult decision to sign off their rights. They had come to know us over that year, and knew how much we love our daughter. Although that didn't make their decision any easier, it gave them peace of mind knowing she was loved, cherished, and being given a life they knew they could not provide. It gave them peace knowing that we are a loving Christian home who would keep in contact with them after everything was done.
Recently, our sweet little one's birth family has told us about their regrets, fears, loss, and pain, while also knowing they made the right decision at the end to let her go. It broke my heart. In the midst of our joy, they are struggling to come to terms with all that happened. In our thanking God, they are asking for peace in the pain. Our gain is their loss. The reality of that is setting in. I am grateful they shared this with us, but heartbroken for them, and feel a new level of responsibility that I didn't realize before.
Sometimes as foster parents, we look at the condition these kids are in when they first come to us, and assume the worst about the birth families who did this to them. We easily think and know that we are the better and safer family for these kids. We assume these parents could have never loved, or cared for these kids to leave them in such horrible conditions, have them removed, let alone to have their rights terminated. But, we often forget that although in some cases that's true, it isn't always. You can see it especially in the birth families who fight hard, and when they realize they can't win, choose their child's happiness and well being over their own desires to be with them, and let them go. We recognize the loss, but somehow think it was deserved, or couldn't be that big of a loss given how we got the kids in the first place. But that just isn't true in many cases. These birth families made mistakes, big mistakes, or maybe they weren't in the financial or stable position we are in, or maybe they have disabilities or disorders that prevent them from being able to care for a child. It doesn't mean they don't love them. And it doesn't mean they don't feel the loss and heartache.
When we lost our first daughter, the pain, agony, heartache, and loss were unbearable. I felt like a huge piece of my being was stripped away and taken from me. It felt like my heart was torn out and being smashed and shattered into billions of pieces over and over again and again. I agonized for years. I still hurt severely from that loss. I still think about her every single day, wishing I had peace of mind knowing that she was actually safe and loved. Wondering, is she warm at night, is she being cared for, is she getting anything to eat, is she being abused or neglected, does she remember me even in the slightest bit? It haunts my mind, and the tears creep up on me in the strangest moments. It is a hole in me that can never be filled again. I know the pain of losing a child all too well. And, although the circumstances were different, and we didn't do anything to lose our child and fought selflessly to save her, it doesn't mean they are hurting any less than us in their loss. I think of my pain in loss, and I'm filled with grief for them in their loss, while I rejoice in this adoption.
Our gain and rejoicing is our sweet little one's birth family's loss and pain. It is sobering, and we move forward with respect, love, and empathy.
