Real Moms

This morning, one of those quintessential adoption moments occurred, out of the blue.  I'm never prepared for these moments.  They never happen with fanfare or warning.  One minute Xanthe was frustrated about doing her hair, the next minute, she was muttering under her breath, "I wish I had my real mom."

I ran to her and wrapped her in my arms.  I was stunned that this had come out of nowhere, but at the same time, I was relieved to hear Xanthe express these feelings.  She hasn't expressed many emotions about adoption, and I am happy we have some talking points now, based on her feelings.  I told her, "oh honey!  I bet she wishes she had you, too.  Heavenly Father wanted you here in our family, but it's OK to feel like you miss her."  Later, I said, "She can be your 'birth mom' and I'll be your 'real mom.' Would that work?"

A minute later, Xanthe was laughing and we were taking pictures of her on the couch.  As fitting as this picture appears, the real reason she looked so forlorn was because she has decided she doesn't know how to smile, since I started telling her to "look natural" in photos.  Ha ha!

I am sure most people don't realize the extent to which adoption is so much more complex than giving birth.  It's just a much, much more nuanced and complicated relationship.  It's not more or less than, it's just extremely intricate, especially in a situation where the child has been abandoned, then institutionalized, then suffered a second primal loss in being taken from the orphanage and placed with a new family.  There is just no end to the range of emotions the child and parent have to work through, and no end to the time it takes to do so.  It has been nine years since Xanthe came home, and  in some ways, she is just now beginning to address these issues.  It's interesting because every single child in the world, at some point, wishes/hopes/fears she is adopted.  I wondered if I was, at times when my mom was being mean!  For adopted children, that fantasy is an actual alternate reality that one has to wonder about.  What would it have been like?  Would my birth mom be better at doing hair?  Would she love me more?  Would she be nicer or prettier?  It's impossible not to fantasize about what might have been, and even wish for that alternate reality.  I myself sometimes visualize Xanthe's birth parents and wonder...

I'm not sad for Scott and myself.  Not at all.  We have a beautiful daughter.  I don't feel at all bereft that I can't provide what the concept of a birth mother can provide.  I am sad for her birth parents because they lost her.  I am sad for Xanthe because she lost them.  Along with that, there are about a hundred valid emotions that play out; anger, guilt, gratitude, confusion, love, compassion, grief, joy...pretty much the gamut of human experience is wrapped up in a single adoption.

When I sent Xanthe off to school and cried, I cried not for myself, but for Xanthe.  She has so much to work through.  But it's OK.  It's her story, it's our story, and it's a beautiful, beautiful story, heartbreak and all.