We've got a birthday for a special little kid coming up soon! Birthdays are a biiiiig deal. I can remember vividly sitting on my parents couch when I was young, thinking, "I'm going to be seven soon! Six sounds so young, but seven! Seven sounds so mature!"
Besides the presents and celebration, there is that great feeling of accomplishment. One year closer to middle school, one year closer to high school. One year until I can drive. One year until I go to college! For someone who longed for independence as a kid, counting days until another birthday was a religious experience.
But the question is open: how will Francisco see his birthday when he's older?
I know
right now it's a big deal to him. We're planning a birthday party at the
community pool in my parents' neighborhood. There'll be food and
cake, swimming and fun. Don't let him know this,
but there'll be a piñata, too. He's had two birthday parties
with us, and has been to a few more, so he has a good idea about the fun
birthdays can be.
Right now, he's excited. "When's your birthday, Cisco?" I ask. "My birthday's in Nobemburrrr!" he'll purr.
But, what will the day look like when he's older?
We know that birthdays for adopted kids in general can be a mixed bag of emotions. But it means a couple of things to me.
This is one very important day in Cisco's life that we missed.
A very wonderful woman, who we've never met, was there. She saw Cisco during his first moments on Earth. What was he like when he was born? What did his first cry sound like? Was he willing to come out, or did it take some time?
What was it like for her to know that this child she gave birth to wouldn't be with her for much longer?
What feelings does she have now on November 25th?
When will it occur to Cisco that there was someone with him for so long, well-before he was born, who left his life shortly thereafter?
In adoption circles, this break in family is referred to as the 'Primal Wound'. As more and more data is presented to the Universe about the cognitive abilities of infants, one thing is clear: kids have not been getting enough credit for how well their minds work. Studies after studies show that memories are created at a very young age. And the bond between mother and child is formed very young, often before birth.
So, he had this bond with this woman, and then that bond was broken.
This early broken bond impacts the rest a child's life. How will it affect him? How will he see the world through the lens of adoption?
This morning, Cisco asked me, "Was I in your tummy or Mama's tummy?" We have conversations about adoption and pregnancy from time to time. Cisco's Aunt and Uncle recently had his baby cousin, so the idea of pregnancy isn't new to him.
"No, honey, you were in another lady's tummy. She didn't have the means to take care of a baby. But Mama and Papa couldn't have a baby, so we wanted to adopt you. It seemed like a great match!"
These are the starter
conversations we have. We show pictures of our times together in Bogotá.
We talk about the other kids in our Early Childhood Family Education
class who have similar stories. We can only hope we give him the details
to help him tell his own story, even if it's just to himself. Somethings
we know, some we don't, some we can make an educated guess. Being an
adoptive parent isn't just about parenting. We lay down a firm foundation,
so he can find his footing. To us, it's about helping our son have
the tools he needs on his journey. He'll be discovering his identity his
entire life, being the adoptive Latino child of Caucasian parents living in a
Midwestern American city. It isn't to say that all kids don't do this;
it's just a bit more complicated in adoptive families' cases.
We feel very lucky that we have as clear a picture of his family as we do, because many children have very little. There are so many answers to basic questions that we'll be able to answer. But each piece is a reminder that we see a very small window into the day he was born.
So, it's a mixed bag for all of us.
