Violet Voices

The Ache Inside

Most people have seen children adopted from China. They’re happy, well-adjusted, beautiful kids that any parent would be blessed to have in their lives. At least, that’s what you’ll see if you meet our daughter.

But there’s the times you don’t see. You don’t see the times she’s sobbed against my neck, “I just want my China mommy and daddy!” or “I don’t know why they had to give me up!” or when she’s not crying, and is just being…well, a child attempting to manipulate her parents–”Someday, mom, I’m going to leave you and move to China and you won’t see me for a long, long time.” (Complete with a “So what do you think about THAT?” look!)

The questions and the pain began shortly after she learned to talk. “Why my China mom give up?” (age 2) became “Why didn’t they want me?” (age 4) and then, “I just wish I could have stayed with them in China.” (age 7) I think we’ve handled it okay–nonjudgmental, understanding, grieving with her and telling her it’s okay to have those thoughts and wishes. But also emphasizing to her that we are a “real family” and that being our “real daughter” has nothing to do with her appearance or who gave birth to her. That we love her, and will love and support her, even if she someday does want to go live in China. That we want God’s best for her no matter what.

But truthfully, these discussions are a knife to my heart. I know it’s normal, and healthy, and I’d FAR rather have her voice her feelings to me, her mother, than to someone else (or keep them buried). However, I’ve learned that being a good adoptive mom means emotionally letting go of my daughter in ways and at times that I don’t have to do with the one I gave birth to. I have to share her with her own past, haunting as it is.

There’s a special sort of deep pain that happens when you have to look your beloved daughter in the eyes and tell her it’s normal and okay for her to wish she had, in her words, “her own parents back.” And then to soothe the anxiety and confusion as she tries not to hurt your feelings, and as she finally realizes that even if she had those parents, she’d lose you. She’s too concrete a thinker yet to understand that the bonds she’s built with us go deeper than genetic bonds with her family of origin. All she knows is that she loves us…but she also loves them. And she can never have us both. For her, there’s not a win-win solution.

So not only do I ache for myself, but I ache even more deeply for her. If I could right the past, if I could heal that wound, I would. Even if it meant losing her. What a noble sentiment… that does no good. The truth is, we can’t undo the past. I can’t “fix it” for her, as much as I long to. The most I can do is pour my love into her and try to steer her on a healthy and emotionally stable path, to the best of my ability. And I pray. Oh how I pray for her! Trying to learn ever more to trust her to God and to have faith that He will heal those wounds that I can barely even reach.

I’ve had innocent, well-meaning people make the comment to me, “It must be nice to do an adoption. SOOOO much easier than a pregnancy.” I’d laugh if it didn’t make me want to cry. When I was pregnant, I had pain for most of the 9 months, plus about 7 hours of labor and a few days of recovery. But when I committed to adopting, I accepted pain that will last a lifetime. Don’t talk to me about it being “easier.”

But lest I sound cynical and bitter, I want to state unequivocally that the joy and blessing our daughter has brought into our lives is, to me anyway, worth any pain I suffer. The pain makes the joy sweeter. When she throws her arms around me and says, “You’re my favorite mom in the whole world,” it actually MEANS something deep and precious to me. And most days she is full of laughter, of joie de vivre. Her eyes sparkle and she tries to embrace the entire earth in her abounding energy.

So I don’t regret a minute of it, and if I had to, I’d choose to adopt her all over again. I love her so much, I can cry just thinking about it. I only wish, like she does, that it hadn’t been necessary. That she could have stayed with them. Even if it meant we’d never have had the pleasure of her in our lives.

See how divided she and I both are inside? No wonder we ache.

The The Ache Inside by Violet Voices, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Written By: Meredith Efken
Posted under: International Adoption .  Email This Post