Are we making adoption too hard? Too overwhelming? Too complicated?
I make an effort to read as much as I can about adoption, specifically trans racial adoption. Being the mom of 4, almost 5, Chinese children, I think it’s part of my job description to be informed and aware. And I’ve been reading a lot lately, specifically articles and blog posts written about the effects of adoption, and how an adopted child might struggle to reconcile their past with their present. The hardships that they might endure. The weight of the losses they might have known. And I can’t even begin to imagine. Many times I get wrapped up in these unknowns as I consider my own children and what their future holds… will they be filled with sorrows? will they feel broken and unloved? will they too struggle with never feeling good enough?
But in reading lately, I’ve been left with this question, “Aren’t we making adoption too complicated? Isn’t it really simpler than all this?”
It’s endless, truly it is. A slippery slope. One fear-filled thought leads to another and another, and you’re left, without answers, mentally exhausted. All for naught. Who knows what the future holds? Who knows how our children will face the knowledge that they were abandoned, adopted and are now not only Chinese, but Chinese-American? Will they embrace it? Or shun it? Or both?
And will any of my worries take away one moment of sorrow for my child? Will walking on eggshells keep their hearts from breaking in two at the realization of what adopted truly means? Will my love for them ever replace the love of their first mother?
I have no answers for my children as to why they were abandoned. Or why their first family could not keep them. And I won’t even make an attempt at creating a list of possibilities for them to consider. No matter the possible scenario, it is too overwhelming for a child to comprehend: not enough money to afford a child? a medical condition that was too complicated? a desire for a son over a daughter? I mean, I’m an adult and the possibilities honestly blow my mind. And for a child, even if they knew why they were abandoned, is there ever a reason good enough to justify their loss?
The truth is, I will tell my children, I have no answers. And chances are that I will never have any of the answers for the questions they might ask surrounding their birth and abandonment. Oh, how I wish I knew something, anything to say to fill that heartbreaking silence when my child asks if they grew in my tummy. All I have to offer my children is the truth, what I do know, what I don’t know. And the promise that they will never be alone to endure sadness or loss or heartbreak again.
We all suffer losses in this life. God doesn’t promise us that there will be no pain and no suffering. In fact, as Christians we are reminded by Jesus Himself that suffering is a part of life, to be expected. And that through our suffering He also grows us, brings us closer to Him, and helps us focus less on ourselves and more on the Big Picture. The picture God intended when He created man: us loving Him with our whole hearts, and us loving others as ourselves.
Is that oversimplifying things? I don’t think so. If we are focused on Him, and His plan, and walking as closely as we can to Him, then we won’t stumble and fall. We may stumble, but He will be there to catch us. And it is through loving Him and being loved by Him in return, that we are able to love others as ourselves… unselfishly, wholly, with abandon.
That is the best I can do for my children. Reflect God’s love for them in all I do. Love them, care for them, be there for them. With abandon. Without thoughts of myself. And I think that’s enough, because God told me so.
Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
~ Matthew 22:38-40
More (and his are really good) thoughts on this topic here.