Sometimes as a parent, especially an adoptive parent it can be tricky to figure out what part of the story belongs to me. In the past very little thought was given to the adopted child with a focus on the joyful and redemptive aspects of adoption. The celebration of the "gotcha day" or signs posted after 600 days in foster care we are adopted in front of children too young to consent to these postings. These postings are true and adoption does have an aspect of redemption, but it is also hard and at its core represents loss and heartache. The lost and heartache isn't reserved for the child, everyone involved feels loss, the biological parents, the child and the adoptive parents too.
My children's stories bump up against my story and often overlap. It can be difficult to know which parts belong to me and which parts are theirs. I find myself crafting cryptic messages to express my thoughts and feelings about what is happening while at the same time respecting their privacy. I am hoping to write my own feelings of loss and heartache and still allow my children to own their stories.
I sometimes talk about the adoption journey as an 80 pound backpack - I am the person who has read my child's thousand page file, a very long life story that leaves out most of the important details, like all the firsts, first tooth, first step. I carry the stories that my child is too young to remember and I have been tasked with keeping them until they are ready to hear them and this burden at times weighs heavy on me. And yet, it is not my story. I cannot unpack it, I cannot carry it. I can only safe guard it.
I want to write my story, share what I have learned and how this burden has challenged and strengthened me. So I tread softly. Carefully. Knowing at times I might be too cryptic and other times I may share too much.