If asked (and quite frequently even when not) I can provide an exhaustive accounting of my feelings pertaining to matters that affect the intimate sphere of my life in any conceivable case. Or in almost every case, that is, except for the topics of my little ones’ soon-to-be-born sibling and her potential adoptive parents.
We met them several weeks ago for dinner; also in attendance were a knot of social workers (to keep us from engaging in adoption-related fisticuffs, perhaps) and N., hugely pregnant with the child who in bursting into existence has prompted so many questions. “If the baby is going to be his half-sister and her whole sister,” asked my eldest, pointing in turn to her siblings, “what is she going to be to me?” I mumble an answer about everyone being plain old siblings, but this is the least of what baffles me.
I’m hardly the only one asking questions. The woman chosen by N. to raise her child is also struggling. She’s been contacting me from time to time with concerns I am hardly qualified to address. How should I act in the hospital while the baby’s being born? she wants to know. Should I offer to feed and diaper the baby or let N. do everything? And Is it alright for me to act happy around N. or should I keep it under control out of respect for her loss?
The social worker calls with updates and we ask ourselves what (if anything) we can do to encourage N. to take care of herself . Does she have enough healthy food? we wonder. Is she spending her money wisely? Is her partner keeping away from the drugs and violence he’s chosen in the past? The answers we come up with are never very satisfying.
And then I wonder, as I guiltily eavesdrop on the new family’s Facebook messages, why it rankles me so to read references to “our birthmom” or “our new baby,” or to see their friends chime in about how terribly lucky the baby is to be getting adopted by them.
I don’t have answers any more than I know how I feel about all this. I can only hope that in fifteen months none of us will be in this same situation yet again.
The siblings Birth Mother, gave them life,, You, & the other Adoptive Mother, give them *A* life…A far better chance for these children, than their Birth Mom, ever could..
As to choices that lie in the future,, no one can know, But, for this girl , to have 2 wonderful women, to care for & love their children..is a Blessing that will never leave. I think she knows this, and loves you both for it.
Do you wish you were able to adopt N.’s latest?
Sorry about the phrasing–”N’s latest” sounds really weird, on second thought.
No. There’s no way I could handle any more children and still, well, LIVE.
However, if her previous children are any indication, this baby will be the spitting image of her siblings. It feels very weird to have carbon copies of your kids running around somewhere else.
Hi, I just came across your blog today and felt compelled to say hi. Although I don’t really know your situation, I think I am in a similar situation, my children are adopted and we are in contact with my daughter’s birth siblings and their adoptive families. It’s an interesting life we lead.
“And then I wonder, as I guiltily eavesdrop on the new family’s Facebook messages, why it rankles me so to read references to “our birthmom” or “our new baby,” or to see their friends chime in about how terribly lucky the baby is to be getting adopted by them.”
But don’t you think that your friends would say the same about you? Your children are very lucky to be with you, just as you are lucky to have them. I suppose it’s only natural that a couple who is desperate for a child would be so very happy to have one secured. I think that N is wise to allow more capable people to care for her children, and I hope all of your previous worries about the quality of the potential adoptive parents have been assuaged.
As beautiful and wonderful your little ones are, and as equally so their newest sibling is likely to be, I share your sentiments that N uses this time ahead as a chance to stabilize her life and not end up back in square one in fifteen months.
A child who will be raised by parents who desire it, who are prepared to do their very best to give him or her a good life, who are actively striving towards being contentious parents, that child is lucky.
We are all unlucky in some ways, and lucky in others.
Is it unlucky to be born to a woman who isn’t able to care for you? Maybe not, if you’re blessed with a family who is able to care, love and nuture for you, especially if time in the legal system/foster care/ophanages, etc, can be avoided.
Is the child unlucky to be away from the family of birth? Maybe not, if they still have opportunity to know their siblings and their biological family.
Maybe, this baby truly is lucky, even if the situation in which it came into the world seems to be anything but.
(Ok, so I’m an optimist. And yes, I do think that it is also a tragedy, but really, when there are three parties who are working so hard to make this into a workable scenario…how many children have that coming into the world?)
This child is indeed lucky to get taken in by a family that has the desire and ability to care for and love it. There are MANY that are born in our very own country everyday to mothers (and fathers) that never should have gotten pregnant, and end up in situations so horrible that it makes me almost physically ill when I think about it.