My own little discussion group

[Edited to add: This is not a "Book Discussion" so much as it's a "Discussion Inspired by the Book" ... in other words, you don't need to have even heard of this book to join the discussion!! I just want to know your thoughts on these two questions:

Does a parent's love make up for the loss of everything else?
Can you love the people your child was born to?

And if your kids aren't home yet, just tell me what you think right now, based on how you feel at this moment. I really would love to hear what other P/AP's are thinking!]

It was hard to write that book review because Kari’s book inspired so many tangental thoughts in me as I read it. So I decided to go with a generic overview, but then that left me dissatisfied because it kind of skipped over the parts that hit closest to home for me. If I were a “book club” kind of girl, this would be the perfect book for that. But I don’t have that many local friends who could relate to this book the way I do … so you guys can be my book club discussion, K?

It’s not that the book introduced entirely new ideas or concepts to me, so much as it put into words and brought together so many things I have thought over the last few years.

Like in chapter two “Family” on page 49 when she says:
“The world widened and shrunk at the same time, as the joy of a child entering my life brought with it the darkest side of humanity. My son was born into the legacy of Pol Pot’s killing fields, into a country rife with poverty and dysfunction. Grady would lose his birth family and culture but he would gain me, and George, and a homeland filled with opportunity. Does a parent’s love make up for the loss of everything else?”

I know that some people see themselves as their child’s rescuer, the hero of the story if you will; and I guess on some level in the beginning I felt that way too. Our daughter was alone in the world, living in an orphanage where her formula was diluted and medical care was minimal. She had to have IV’s inserted into her head to hydrate her when she suffered from dyssentary at least twice in the first seven months of her life and she had a raging throat infection when she came to us. In a very real way, we did save her. But at the same time, we took her from her birth country. She is Cambodian but can not speak it. The only Cambodian food she knows is what we order at a local restaurant. Her cultural heritage will be learned from books and special camp experiences. And there’s the mystery of her birthfamily – we certainly did not keep that information from her, but she looks to us to answer those questions for her somehow. It all leaves me feeling vaguely inadequate, wishing that I could fill in those blanks, praying that unconditional love and support with be enough and she won’t feel somehow cheated by life.

With Zeeb, I felt less like a rescuer, and the losses seemed bigger. He was with a loving foster family – yet he needed a permanent family. He spoke in full Vietnamese sentences, now he is starting from scratch, his Vietnamese language slowly erased as he works to build an English vocabulary. He has been remarkably adaptable, learning to enjoy American foods and adjusting to life in our crazy household. But when I see him savoring a bowl of Pho or when he points to palm trees and says “Vietnam?” I am keenly aware of all he has lost. I wonder at what memories Zeeb will hold deep in his heart; and I pray that our love and all that life as our child can offer him will make up for what he left behind.

Loving the child is profoundly easy. The question is, “Can you love the people your child was born to?” Loving birthparents is complicated. (chapter 13, “Bones that Float” pg. 215)

I confess when we adopted the first time, the idea of a child with no known birth history was attractive – it meant no strings, no concerns about a birth mother changing her mind or wanting to be involved in our lives. It was only later, after our daughter was home and firmly ensconced in our family that I realized how important her birth family is – to her, and to me. I wish that we could find the answers for her, who her birth mother is and why she could not care for a child, but those answers are lost. Zeeb has those answers, but still I grapple with my feelings for his birth mother. Honestly, I mostly think of her in an impersonal, objective sense – more as a theoretical person than the as woman who gave birth to my son. Can I love the people my children were born to?

A more important question to me is, “Can I understand them?” I spoke with my missionary friend about finding R~’s birth mother and she was clearly surprised I would even want to. “R~ is better off not knowing” my friend said, in a voice of experience. My friend has lived in Cambodia for three years, she knows the heart of Cambodia and its people so much better than I do. The sad truth is that the Khmer Rouge years have scarred the people in a way we can not comprehend – many Cambodians literally raised themselves, having lost all the older generations to genocide. They truly have no concept of what it means to be a parent. Mixed with the Buddhist beliefs of past lives and fate, my friend tells me often a birth mother or other family member will abandon or sell a child without regret, believing it was what the child was born for. It’s a mindset I can not fathom, and a reality that could break my child’s heart.
In Zeeb’s case I do not think he was given up because of a belief in fate or even from a lack of love; but how do I know? I know the circumstances of his relinquishment, but I do not know what was in his birthmother’s heart. I feel for her, I believe she made the right choice for her child; but do I understand her? How could I, never walking in her shoes, never even living in her culture?
But I can love my children’s birthmothers as Jesus loves them, I can pray for them and I can try to teach my children about the complexities of the world they were born into in hopes that they will be able to reconcile the pieces of their life and feel whole.  And that will have to do.

Now comes the “Discussion” part: What do you think? How would you answer these questions for yourself? Have your thoughts changed over time?

There’s more I want to discuss on the topic of “giving back”, but it will have to wait for another day, maybe next week sometime…