It has been a sobering thing to learn about the process in adoption. As I have begun moving from more of an observer a ways off peering at adoption, to an active participant, my perspective has grown dimensionally.
Often the first thing to one's mind when thinking about adoption is likely that of the beautiful picture it paints. Perhaps, this is because of the peculiar wonderment that comes of sacrifice. I mean, consider the war hero who nobly goes to battle presuming they may never return, or return, unlike the way they went. Or the teacher who gladly, and zealously, gives the bulk of their life to their thankless students only to receive a mere plaque upon retirement for the blood, sweat and tears shed over the years. What about the missionary that goes with a heart to give all that they have, to pour themselves out as an offering, often in hostile territory, to show the Love of Christ.
Adoptive parents are also often seen as the sacrificial ones. Particularly the ones that are in the category that our family falls into. You see, we have not struggled with the torturous situation of infertility, and the desperation that accompanies it (although, we have seen it first hand in those we care about). We also have three beautiful, healthy biological children that we have been given to shepherd in love. It would seem that from many's eyes, we have been given a full quiver.
So, why would we possibly seek to adopt a child? Some might assume that it is due to our great sacrifice in order to take in a child not of our own flesh and blood to save them from a lifetime of want, abandonment and pain. Although there is some truth in this behind our motives, make no mistake, my understanding of sacrifice has been broadened as we have moved within the process.
Sure, great sacrifice is made from the adoptive parents, but I believe even greater sacrifice can be reflected by the birth parents. Often times in adoption, the birthparents are villainized as the ones who should be ashamed of themselves, while the adoptive parents should be exalted. In the process we have gone through to this point, we have had the pleasure and privilege in meeting those who God has used to confront our own ignorance in this.
In one of the trainings we attended, we met two older birthmothers who had given their babies for adoption when they were young teenagers several years ago. The emotion that they exhibited as they told their stories was overwhelming. Surprisingly to me, they still carried the scar from years prior. They spoke of the process they had to go through, and were still going through, despite being at peace with their decision. They spoke of the sacrifice they made, and continue to make everyday, as they live in the reality that their own flesh and blood, this eternal, tangible person lives and exists apart from them. As a father myself, I imagine mothers can grasp this reality even more fully than fathers can. But what I can grasp has brought into focus how much I admire these women and how heroic their sacrifice is.
It is unfortunately true that not all birthparents have exhibited such thoughtfulness and angst over a decision so important. The stories most often heard and held up are those involving birthmothers leaving their child to die alone in a dumpster or some other horrible circumstance. But, the more unfortunate truth is that there are plenty of other birthmothers that carry around a hidden scar that is a daily reminder of what they gave up. It does not go away, nor does it fade. And by my estimation, the pain only becomes more bearable as it mixes with joy of knowing that their sacrifice enabled their child that they love deeply to receive what they knew they could not give themselves.
I say that these birthmothers are the true heroines and should be celebrated. We pray that for the sake of the child that God has for our family, we might be able to celebrate their birthmother for her sacrifice in this way.
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