Another Madison conversation
Oct 7, 2008 Adoption
Madison was gluing sequins on leaf cut-outs to make our house more autumn-like and more gorgeous. She said, “Were you friends with Pennie after I was born?”
I put down my book to try to figure out what she was asking and then I told her how we met Pennie and how we became friends and how we are still friends. For the first time I told her that Pennie met us specifically to see if we would be a good mommy and daddy for Madison. I knew we were trudging into territory that I am totally unprepared for (and for which I believe I can’t ever be prepared): Why did Pennie place Madison for adoption? Sure enough:
“Why did Pennie choose you to be mommy and daddy?”
I told her because we had Noah and Pennie wanted Madison to have a brother because she has a much-loved brother (Madison’s namesake).
“Oh yeah,” says Madison. “I know him!”
“But why…” she hesitated, sprinkling her sequins. “Why did she want me to have a brother?”
I dove in.
“Madison, I think you’re asking me why Pennie chose not to be your mommy and chose me to be your mommy instead, is that right?”
She nodded, not looking at me.
This is a story that’s going to change as she grows up. This is a story that’s going to change in the telling and in the hearing (from me and from Pennie) and it’s going to change as she brings more of her own story to it. I don’t think I can ever answer why. But I have to answer why.
(I believe that my why is always inadequate to Pennie’s story. I believe that I have no right to guess why although I can’t help doing so. But I know, too, that my version of events is one I need to share with Madison although with such care and acknowledgment that it is very much my version. And that I am an unreliable narrator. Only she is just four right now and she’s asking me and somehow I have to answer)
And I fumble around. I say something like (and this isn’t all of it), “Pennie loves you so much and I think she was worried that she wasn’t ready to be your mommy and I think she worried that she would not do the right job of it.”
I want her to know that Pennie loves her without creating the “she loved you enough to give you up” heroic fable. And I want her to know that there is nothing fundamentally wrong with Pennie (because unlike some adoption stories, there are no glaring addictions or scary behaviors that made her adoption such a clear decision). One day when Madison’s older and ready to contemplate the complexities of domestic infant adoption and of her adoption, I don’t want her starting out with the idea that Pennie was in some way broken and that adoption is always “right” in the presence of these outside circumstances. This is a big challenge for me. How do I put the locus of the adoption within Pennie’s person without somehow fixing Madison with the idea that her mother didn’t want her? Madison was not/is not unwanted.
How do I separate parenthood from the child who would be parented? How do I explain the daunting weight of cultural expectations, the stultifying absence of societal supports?
And how do I make it clear — is the insertion of “I think” enough — that I am an unreliable narrator?
It’s hard enough for great big grown-ups to understand let alone 4-year olds. There is nothing definitive to say, “Here is why.” It’s the glaring question she dares not ask directly: “Why am I not with her?”
Madison did ask, “Do you think she would do the right job of it?”
And I said, honestly, “Yes.” But then we talked more of things I won’t share here that are specific to this story but still, could not answer the “why” as well as I wish.
(Sooner or later Madison will ask me why I didn’t help Pennie and I hope she is old enough that I can tell her why in a way that she can understand — the complications of our particular adoption, the complications of choice within the context of a culture that does not truly honor choice. I hope by then I understand, too, because I think I will always wish I could have done things somehow better. I am always asking myself “why” too.)
Madison said, “I think she would do the right job of it, too.”
Then she asked me, and I can’t remember the wording, but she asked me if I was happy that Pennie chose us. I told her that I was very very very happy and grateful to be her mommy but I was sad that it meant that she and Pennie had to miss each other so much.
I said, “I know you miss her being your mommy and I know she misses being your mommy, too.”
Madison: But I can call her.
Me: Right.
Madison: And I can have playdates with her.
Me: And tea parties.
Madison: And I can say Macintosh. I can say Macintosh and Rome. Macintosh is a pretty big word! I don’t even know how I know it!
She is the queen of segues, this perfect little curly-haired child!
I write this stuff down for me as a baby book and also because I know you all wonder how other families do it. I wonder, too. I gobble your blog entries up, too. Frankly, this conversation — it’s not one I think I got right but I also don’t know if there’s a right way to get it. It’s the truth of our adoption, really, that there are no good answers. I think there is only an ongoing conversation that we need to be having and that I have to be willing to get it wrong because I have to say something and keep that conversation open.
I am also sorry if this entry — or any like it — hurt the first parents who read me. I know this isn’t an easy read and I apologize.
These conversations of “why” are so hard. It’s probably the one concrete reason why I haven’t attempted to write a why letter to my son.
I can say though that in every conversation that heads towards the why I tend to always insert into the conversation that understanding why is very big thinking and that as they get bigger they will understand more, but probably never understand all the way. And that the questions while tough are good to talk about. I think I say that to remind them not to get absolute with their thoughts of “that’s how it was and how it’s always been.”
These early ones felt easier for me, because I knew I had wiggle room in the narrative. If I made a mistake, or chose words poorly I could likely rephrase the next time.
The hardest for me was when M was six or seven and asked why her birth parents had sex if they weren’t ready to be parents.
It was a tough conversation both in terms of explaining the good things about sex on a child’s level, and not overstepping my bounds on information that would likely be better conveyed from her birth parents.
As a birth parent I think this conversation is beautiful. I can’t pretend to know the details of yours and Pennie’s situation, but you explained to Madison that it wasn’t because there was something wrong with Pennie and it wasn’t because Pennie didn’t love her.
We as parents never get everything right, but I think you did a pretty darn good job with this one.
Sometimes I feel that adoption is constantly presenting me with unanswerable questions that demand answers.
My oldest first asked “why” at 2.5, when he was trying to make sense of our daughter’s placement. I didn’t expect to face that question so early.
I’m grateful we all have each other’s examples to chew on.
I just wrote you privately but yeah, thank for you for this Dawn. I really appreciate your taking the time to get it down because its important stuff and you’re navigating it very well in my opinion. Can we all have a little vacation together sometime?
Sounds to me like you are doing a pretty cool job of this hard parenting stuff.
There are so many whys that are hard. Explaining the death of a loved one for example. Although I have no personal experience of adoption I can see how explaining it would be right up there. But you are obviously approaching this with a lot of thought and care toward everyone involved.
I love hearing these Madison stories, and I appreciate your willingness to share these kind of challenging conversations (and at the same time being cautious about sharing ALL of it). From my perspective, it really does help, encourage, and inspire me to hear other parents out there and how they meet such challenges and remain respectful of all parties. I’m sure I’m not the only one. You rock.
It seems that balancing between not placing blame on anyone and not creating that heroic narrative you referred to is important.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but this firstmom appreciates posts like this. Sure, some posts are hard, but that’s this life, you know? It’s not always easy, but at least you always keep it honest.
(Plus I LOVE reading about how you talk about adoption to Madison – I think it’s amazing)
I appreciate hearing this, too. I only have the vaguest of possible ideas–thirdhand, if true at all–why H’s firstmom did not parent her. When she asks about it, I really have a hard time. I still struggle with whether we have done with right thing with regard to finding her family, and whether we should try to do more.
It helps to hear, at least, how you are handling these topics.
Laurel, this is hugely helpful: “understanding why is very big thinking and that as they get bigger they will understand more, but probably never understand all the way” Thanks.
I’m a birthmom, and I love hearing about how people explain it to their children. Hearing it this time made me wonder how I’ll explain it to my future children. Not something I’ve thought about seriously until recently – I’m marrying the birthfather of my baby which changes things slightly. I’m terrified that he’ll always wonder why we didn’t keep him, even though at the time it was the right thing for all of us.
Megan, it’s nice to meet you! And I’ve added your blog to my feedreader. You are just the age Pennie was when she gave birth to Madison.
Here’s the thing — with an open adoption he may wonder but he can ask you and his dad and I think that makes all the difference. Not that it makes the hardships disappear but I believe it softens them by allowing our kids to learn at their own developmental pace instead of waiting for a someday, hoped for reunion (or always wondering).
I hope your visit goes well!!! He will need you in his life!
These conversations are so sweet they make me weep. You are extraordinary in your willingness to create the sturdy bridge to Pennie. I have a nephew I have never met-he’s in his twenties and no one in mhy family can even mention him, and his mother remains a broken person for not being able to be the person who brought him up. I honestly don’t think she could have handled the type of adoption you have, but I remain amazed at the participation and connection with Pennie a nsd Pennie’s willingness to be present.
Rose, thanks for recognizing Pennie’s very significant efforts!!!! She’s an amazingly strong woman! I’ll keep your aunt and nephew and all of you in my thoughts. (I also have an aunt who is a birth mom — she has reunited with her daughter but that story is still kept very quiet in our family and I’m missing a lot of the pieces to it.)
I just cried all over myself.