I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately in adoption-blog-land....and I’m a little sickened today. I haven’t had a strong visceral reaction to a post in a long time. And when I do, its usually when I jump to the defense of a fellow adoptee, or a friend. But this time, I found myself doing the criticizing. I found myself getting defensive over something that, frankly, isn’t any of my damn business.
I hate hate hate hate hate seeing the difference between kept children and placed children. Perhaps its a soft spot for me, considering I am the infamous “placed child”, whose little sister was born just 2 years after me. Under the same circumstances.
So yeah, I’m a little bitter. My sister has spent all 11 years of our reunion making sure I understand how special she is, how loved, how wanted. Yeah bitch, I get it. Mom and Dad kept you and gave me away. I know I know I know. You were, and will always be, loved and treasured in a way that I can only dream of. Thanks for the reminder.
So perhaps that is why I got all upset today when I read a blog today where the writer addresses her kept son, telling him how loved and special he is and how he should never worry because he won’t be given away. As much as I personally enjoy this blogger and her personal story, I was so taken aback. So..angry. I was so angry for her son, the first one, who gets to live the rest of his life in an open adoption where he can see firsthand his mother’s love for her second, kept child. And then maybe he will read what she is written... and see his mother promise her younger, kept child, how he will never be left, how he will always be their beloved child.
I understand that a big reason why my parents did not want to place my sister was because of their relinquishment experience with me. My birthfather has told me on more than one occasion that when I was born, he chose his own freedom over me. But when my sister was born, he decided his freedom wasn’t worth losing another child.
And perhaps thats what the author of that post feels. She regrets placing her firstborn, and maybe it was with that regret in mind that the birth of her second child was such a miracle, such a joy. And there is nothing wrong with that. But I hurt for the placed child- I hurt for him.
I admit that I resent my sister for being kept when I wasn’t. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my sister is a spoiled little monster. Or maybe it’s just the adoptee in me that gets tired of being reminded how special she is. How wanted she was. How her place in OUR family is forever- how she will never have to stay awake at night overanalyzing every word that they say. Because she is one of them. She belongs. There is no question, there is no doubt. She is the daughter, niece, grandchild, and cousin. Loved and beloved, accepted into the family fold without question or difficulty. And I guess on some level, I hate for for that.
It’s not her fault. If our birthdays had been swapped, I’D be the one in the family, and she would have been adopted out. But she doesn’t see it that way. Our parents never thought about giving her away. And she never forgets to remind me.
I’m tired of the plight of the kept child. How everyone has to be extra careful to say just the right things, lest they think that they too will be given away. Oh please. If they were going to give you away, they would have done it when you were born. Exactly like they did to us. The parents’ constant need to assure their kept children of their love and value and importance is a direct slap into the face of the adoptee. And in my case, it created a monster- a little girl who was convinced of her own inflated self worth and specialness- who became a teenager who is convinced of the same things, who became an adult who is convinced that her innate value was what saved her from the world of adoption. And it was my lack of value that condemned me to it.
I hope that child never sees his siblings’ story. I hope he can look past his parents’ gushing love for his kept brother and see their love for him. But I suspect, just as in my case, that he will see something else: that he was a result of an undesired pregnancy and that his brother was the result of something very different. That his parents never thought about giving away their second son. The same parents who not only THOUGHT of giving him to another family..they actually did it.
I don’t think that couples who place children for adoption should remain childless. That’s absurd. Everyone on this earth has a right to happiness. But the overwhelming and special love for one child should NEVER be highlighted by the exile of the other.
“We love you so much, you are ours forever and ever. We will always be your mom and dad. We will never do to you what we have done to your sister.”
how about :
“We love you so much. You are ours forever and ever. We miss and love your brother too, forever and ever. We are a family, all of us. We want to teach you that love can encompass distance and legalities.”
But then again.... that’s just my opinion. If the fact that I was placed and my sister wasn’t can make her feel better about herself... I guess that’s the price I’ve got to pay. I’ve been the sacrificial lamb for familial harmony before. It’s all good.
