Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Her greatest tragedy

I've been thinking of this post on and off for the post 2.5 months, but more recently. I'm not sure how to write it so please bare with me if a thought comes out as unfinished or perhaps in some perspectives just wrong.

I read a quote on pinterest that said :

"A child born to another women calls me Mommy, the magnitude of that tragedy & the depth of that privilege are not lost on me"

I've been thinking about Isaac's birthmom lately. Maybe the word is more like mourning over her. It wasn't until I held my baby in my arms that it really sunk in that I am holding him because another women who should be, couldn't. There are many reasons for a women choosing adoption for their child, I don't know why Isaac's birthmom did...if I did I wouldn't make it public knowledge either as that is his story to tell. But among those top reasons, poverty is on top. So I am left with a lot of questions and very few answers.

Dispite her reason, I mourn over her. There is so much I want her to know... that her son is loved, he has parents, he has a bedroom, toys and clothes, we feed him well.... the list goes on. I just want her to know these things, it honestly eats me up inside.

I'm becoming more and more aware that adoption happens at a huge loss. I've been so into my own joy of having a new son, that it side swiped me the sorrow I would have over the situation as well. My joy came at the cost of another women's sorrow. I'm not sure how that is to be processed. For now all I can think of doing is praying for her. I pray that she would know Jesus, that maybe we could meet her one day, that she is safe, warm, fed... and I pray that one day she will know that Isaac is ok.

And as much as I want this for her, I want this for Isaac too. I want to give him answers, I want him to know who she is... I don't know I ever can, but I want to. Maybe it has to do with growing up without answers of my own....but I pray that I could give this to him one day.

Maybe my thoughts are wrong, invasive, insensitive, too sensitive, etc...but they are mine. I am finding the adoption community (not my direct one) to be very opinionated when it comes to these types of sensitive topics so I wrestle with posting this at all, but this is the reality of adoption. It is hard on many levels. It is not perfect, in fact it only exists because of imperfection. It kinda leaves you hanging there with a mix of love and sorrow. Many people are against international adoption for this reason, but I can't look my son in the face and think that an orphanage would have been better, and I also can't fix the magnitude of the problem that landed him there in the first place. I do, however, try to take a holistic approach. I would work to the end that orphanages are empty, but the orphans currently occupying them need a solution as well. We sponsor children so they don't fill Isaac's bed. I try to think on both ends, prevention and dealing with the current problem.

So as I work out this sorrow, this joy that came at a price, I ask for prayers. For Isaac's birth mother and others a like, that this cycle could stop but also that these children could find forever families. I know that is a random thought to end on and this post is seemingly incomplete... but maybe that is the state until heaven...

2 comments:

  1. Beautiful, Bekah... I so completely understand; well, as much as one who is still waiting to hold her adopted child can. I was so struck when I read our proposal documents at just how many losses our little one has already experienced... I weep for him... for his birthmother... for a country that is mired in such poverty... I pray I can find my way... muddle through the joy cloaked in loss... honor his first family while still fully becoming his "now-family"...

    (So fun to see you today, BTW!)

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  2. It is something that is always in the back of our minds as adoptive parents. It always come forward on their birthdays and other special moments. If only these mothers could know that their children are lived and safe an thriving.

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