Well, after assuring everyone that Zoe mostly didn't mind sharing her adoption story, she has to prove me wrong. At breakfast yesterday morning we were talking about the blog, and Zoe said, "I don't want people to know that my birthparents couldn't keep me." Zing! That's the heart of it, isn't it? Her birthparents couldn't (wouldn't?) keep her. That hurts, and if other people know that, then they might think there's something wrong with her, right?
I reminded her that her birthparents' decision was probably made before she was even born, that the one child policy, social preference for boys (I'm going to have to make up an acronym for that, I have to say it so often) made it hard for them to keep ANY girl born then. "Really?" she said, hopefully. "Really. You were only one day old -- they didn't really know YOU. You were just a teeny-tiny baby -- you couldn't do anything wrong." Really. We repeat it, repeat it, repeat it, until one day her heart as well as her head can believe it.
How it hurts her. And there's nothing I can do to erase the pain. But we can go to the roller rink with the FCC Older Kids group the very same day, and she can see all these beautiful girls whose story is much the same as hers. And she can laugh and fly around the rink, the embodiment of joy.
I Choose Not To
1 month ago