The Fatherless

Today is #WorldAdoptionDay. November is Adoption Awareness Month. I’m an adoptee. My adoptive father is adopted. And my daughter is adopted. I completely forgot that it was adoption awareness day, week, month, whatever until I saw some lovely photos and Instastories pop up on my IG feed.

Adoption spreads itself over three generations in my family. And, let me tell you, my family is quite unique. My adoptive father is Chinese. I am caucasian. My daughter is Chinese. I grew up in a predominately Asian household and my maiden name is Chang. I am a dirty blonde, blue-eyed, pale complected white girl with a very common Chinese maiden name. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that adoption is such a large part of my story and it is so tightly woven into the fabric of who I am as a person, that I don’t even notice how different I am or how different my family is from the general population.

I absolutely love having my story include adoption. I relish the idea of being unique. Female firefighter…check! Founder and CEO of a non-profit…check! Homeschooling mom…check! Mother to an only child…check! White girl with a Chinese dad…check! I love that I have the opportunity to allow people to look at life through a unique lens. And I love that I make people step back and think. While I recognize that my life contains many unique circumstances, and I think about them regularly, adoption is not something that comes up all that often. To be honest, most days I don’t see my daughter’s skin and hair color as being different than my own. I see her as a unique individual but I also see her as an extension of me. I often wonder if biological mothers feel this same way.

I know that in the year 2020, recognizing the differences in skin color, life situations, and privilege is of utmost importance. I try hard to acknowledge that my daughter will have a different experience than I do because of who she is and what her life story entails. I had a small taste of racism growing up because of the last name that I carried and because of the dynamic of my family, but I also know that it probably won’t compare to what my daughter will experience.

What I also recognize and acknowledge with some trepidation is the loss of our first families. In Biblical terms, we are the fatherless. Even with shiny, new (or not so new) families, the loss of a birthparent leaves a gaping wound that can be slow to heal. It doesn’t matter if the loss happened at birth or it happened later in childhood, the loss of a birthparent imprints trauma onto the heart, soul, and mind. My daughter and I have this shared experience. We both carry that imprint.

I have had many more years to work through my grief and loss. And, while I love to be unique and I do love carrying the banner of being adopted, it still doesn’t negate the fact that working through this loss will be a lifelong ordeal. Most days, I don’t think about that loss. 99% of the time it doesn’t bother me. There are days though that the loss stings. During holidays, especially ones when my husband is on shift, or I am traveling, the grief can come back strong. When I start to question my identity or my worth, questions about why I was given up can carry a stinging bite. Loss lasts a lifetime.

I know that some of those same feelings and questions my daughter will most likely struggle with as well. She has never expressed pain or sorrow about her adoption and the loss of her first family or her first country. We talk about her adoption, her 10 months of life in China, and the questions we have about her birth family. She seems fine right now, but I know that this loss is deep and at some point in her life she will most likely be hit hard with the pain of that loss. I pray a lot for God to protect her heart and to comfort her in the moments she may feel sad. I pray that when she struggles about being ‘fatherless’ that she will feel the lovingkindness of her Father in heaven. I pray that she knows that she can always approach me with her questions and her feelings.

Those of us that have been impacted by the loss of our first families and birthparents need to have their feelings of loss validated. They need empathy and a listening ear. They don’t need to have their problems solved and they don’t need fluffy words as an act of consolation. What they need is for their friends and loved ones to say, ‘I hear you and I recognize that your loss is painful. How can I honor that part of your story?’

Validation, recognition, empathy, and a listening ear are the most important gifts that you can give to anyone who is experiencing loss, including those in the adoption community. For some it can take practice. For others, they may have to put personal beliefs or fears aside. But, for everyone, kindness matters. You can show kindness in these acts of compassion.

And for all of those who are on adoption journey’s, #HappyWorldAdoptionDay. I hear you. I see you. And, I stand beside you.

#Chinese #Validation #Awareness #Different #Experience #loss #Listen #Adoption #Empathy