(This post is the continuation of This One. You might want to read that first for this series to make sense. I know they don’t seem related yet, but imagine them as chapters of a single story. I know this isn’t great for the blog format, but bear with me.)
Since we met L’s family, figuring out how to “do” open adoption has been a rollercoaster. I suppose I should have anticipated it, but searching was such an experience of emotional whiplash (hope/dispair/fear) and success so unlikely, I didn’t ever think through what would happen if we found them. Even if I had thought it through, there is no way I would have expected the intensity of emotions it would bring up for me. (And I am writing about my experience. I know has also been very intense for the rest of the family too.)
When we met L’s family, I think all of us were completely overwhelmed. Seeing L’s family’s love for L was like a kick in the emotional gut. Not that we didn’t hope they would love her (we did), but seeing them have the opportunity to be with her for one day then to know we were ripping her out of their arms again…well, I can’t tell you how nightmarish that was. Their pain at losing her once and then walking away again was palpable. As a mother, I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest just watching it happen.
But what could we do? The best we could offer was promises to keep in touch, to try to figure out how to connect our family for L, to visit as often as we can. I meant those things. I still do.
When L’s family left and we got to Hong Kong, it was like I was walking around after a bomb had gone off. The rest of the world was the same beautiful place it was before, but I was shell-shocked and confused.
On one hand, I was so ecstatic. We had the answers we were hoping for! We had found them! They loved her! We got to meet their other kids too! They were lovely and kind! They wanted to know us! They understood this was important for L!
On the other hand, how could we take her away from her parents who love her? How could we possibly give her the tools (chinese language and cultural understanding) and the time to really know them? How could we go back to our normal lives now that everything was different?
I felt like I was being pulled apart.
Mr. A and I started having very serious discussions about moving to Asia. This was while we were still on the trip. Once we got home, we continued to go back and forth about it. It didn’t help that we were dealing with culture shock in both places. Mr. A was unmoored by losing his last job (election) and trying to figure out how things worked at the new one. I couldn’t figure out how the hell we could possibly build a relationship with L’s family through translators and living so very far away. Everything felt so very, very hard.
It was a rough six months.
Slowly, slowly, we acclimated to our lives back home. We were completely on the fence about what to do. One week, I would campaign for one choice, the next I would be solidly on the other side. We talked and talked about what was best for us, what was best for the girls, what was best for L. It doesn’t help that Mr. A would have to give up his entire career trajectory and commit to something entirely new…forever. Maybe we would not ever be able to come back here to our lives and everything we know. We would lose our home, closeness to our families, our culture. We would walk away from it all.
And believe me, I get the irony that this is exactly what we put L through when we adopted her. I know this.
In the end,we decided we just can’t go right now.
I don’t know if that means never or just right now…but it probably means never.
To be continued….here.