By Sheli Massie | Facebook
“Being adopted is like having blank chapters in the story of your life.” – Adult Adoptee
I remember vividly the night after we had been matched with our son from Uganda. I lay awake in bed just sobbing, what I thought was a release of emotions carried these past two years of waiting. My husband kept saying over and over, but this is what we have been waiting for. This moment. As I began to process the floodgate of emotions I realized that my heart was immediately connected to his birth mother. I was imagining what her life was like or wasn’t. I was wondering what her name was, where she was, if she was alive, what a horrific and courageous decision she made to find someone to raise her child. That night imprinted a connection on my soul where answers may never come.
It’s been over six years since our youngest son joined our family and I still have so many questions of his beginning. When he came to the US he was only three, or so we think. Having a birth certificate and hospital records is a privileged expectation, not a norm. So we went by what the dentist could tell us here in the states. Home six years and just beginning to unpack his story. His beginning.
His story is his story. I can only tell you my perspective, what I have observed. I have never known what it is like to not have a family. A mother. A home. Food. Clean water. I have never been without. So I can not imagine the way he processes the abundance that is here and what was before. What I do know that when he is able to tell his story, his grief, his loss all I can do is to create a safe and healing place for it to happen. I will get it wrong. I already do. I miss cues and opportunities to enter in. Instead I rush past them and don’t recognize behaviors as something bigger. As part of his story. His undoing.
One of the greatest misconceptions that we have had to confront with his adoption is the reaction of those around us. Saying things to us, in his presence, that “he is better off here in the states. His life will be better. He is so lucky. Everything will be good for him. At least you saved one.” Yes, ALL of those things and more have been said to us.
Let me just say this, adoption is not unicorns and rainbows. It is not the happily ever after. Adoption comes with great loss and suffering. It comes with layers of unknowns and complications. And it comes with years of figuring it out together.
I was so naive when we adopted our sweet boy. I assumed that love would heal it all.
A real Barbie Savior complex. And then I put myself in his shoes. He has no beginning that I can remind him of. He has chapters that I am not a part of. A story that started way before this Mzungu (white person) showed up and took him from all he had ever known. He is left with a grief that is painfully deep I can not fathom.We have this tradition in our family that we had been doing for years. The four older children knew that on their birthday I would share their birth story with them again at the dinner table. Each year I would tell their unique beginning. Their prologue. Until the year he asked what was his story. He asked me to tell him when he was “in my belly” in Africa. He would look across the table and yearn to hear how I had loved him every moment I carried him. He wanted to be more alike than different. For a while I admit I just played along. Not giving details but saying how I loved him from before I saw his face. I thought I was doing the right thing. Trying to build connection. But what I was really doing was making it easier on myself. What he needed was the truth. He needed to hear his story.
He will ask randomly about his mother. Who she is. Where she is. What her name is. If she ever calls. I give him all I know from just knowing him. “She is a strong and courageous woman. She is beautiful and brave because you are sweet boy. She loved you more than she loved herself because she chose to give to you life no matter the consequence. You are Ugandan, one of the most amazing countries I have ever seen and you will always be connected to a power greater than any of us can even imagine. “
Part of adoption is dying to self. Dying to false expectations and belief systems.
You are bringing a child into your home that has undergone significant trauma, yes even as an infant. Loss and trauma are two of the biggest factors of the process that I feel gets passed over too quickly. Unless we are willing to knowingly enter into the lifetime of unpacking and hard work of healing we really should rethink adoption not as a calling but a commitment to holding space for painful trauma work.Sweet boy is triggered by things every day and he will be for the rest of his life. It is something that we have come to accept. Behaviors that others may see as acting out or abnormal we just see as a breakthrough. That he feels safe enough to let that emotion surface or be explored. His world is not better because he was adopted and is not with his birth mom. His life is complicated and hard. He carries grief and unwritten chapters around as a daily reminder. As his second parents all we can do is create space for him to feel it all.
About Sheli:
Sheli Massie is a story keeper, seeker of justice, healing and hope in a broken world. She believes in longer tables, unlocked doors and living a barefoot life. She and her husband live outside of Chicago with their five children and one grandlove. You can find her over on Instagram @shelimassie_, Redbud Writers, Twitter, and her website.
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GIVEAWAY OF ADOPTED!
For our last week of posts on foster care, adoption and children, I’m giving away a free copy of Kelley’s book, Adopted. It was one of my favorite reads last year and it was awarded the Christianity Today: 2018 Award of Merit Christian Living/Discipleship. Sign up for my newsletter by midnight (MT) on Thursday, May 31st and be entered to win a free copy! And/or tag up to four friends on my Instagram post about this book and I’ll enter you up to four times per friend you tag! Sorry, no bots and only U.S. residents!
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This month on Scraping Raisins, we’re talking about adoption, foster care and children. If you’re interested in guest posting about this theme, shoot me an email at scrapingraisins (dot) gmail (dot) com. The theme for June is “Create,” so you can also be thinking ahead for that. Be sure to check back or follow me on social media so you don’t miss the fabulous guest posters I have lined up this month!
Despite a deep desire to belong, Nikki Woo often finds life nudging her to the margins. She’s been the only girl on the team, the only public speaking teacher afraid of public speaking, the only Caucasian in the extended family photo, and the only mom who lets her kids drink Fanta. She calls the Rockies home, often pretending to be a Colorado native in spite of her flatland origins.