The Emotional Landscape of this Mother and her Son

The Emotional Landscape (on writing your child's Lifebook):

"Many adoptive parents gather information and sit amid airplane ticket stubs and trip photos, unsure of where or how to begin. For many, the emotional landscape seems daunting. Perhaps it is difficult to say or write the word “birthmother.” Dismal feelings related to infertility, once thought to be resolved, may unexpectedly arise. And how does one write that one’s child was placed on a street corner or that her birthfamily lived in poverty? Some parents find it healing to tune into their own feelings about their child’s early life experience while composing her lifebook. We can privately honor these feelings without “giving” them to our children. Later, when sharing the story of our children’s early lives, we can be emotionally present and available rather than caught in our own feelings about the material."  By Cindy Probst, an excerpt from her book. 

I am so excited as Jacob's lifebook has been started.  A couple weeks ago I began journaling and gathering his life story into a scrapbook format.  It is a way to document his life before we came into the picture so he can understand that his life began before us.  It is arguably said to be the best tool one can use in an adoptive and foster environment to allow children to understand their beginnings in an age appropriate manner, and to allow them to ask questions and engage in adoption conversations.  

In the excitement that had been building to be part of creating this and gathering (and seeking out more!) of Jacob's history, I was struck by some feelings that have not only taken me by surprise but have once again crept up into my life.....the fear of failing my child and the fear of not being able to give him information that may seem vital to his emotional development.  As I have tried to put into text and pictures what little I know and have been able to gather about Jacob's life before November 4th of 2012, I often find myself feeling despair.  If only I had the right connections.  If only I had asked better questions at the orphanage.  Why didn't I ask if a note had been found on him or if the clothing he wore was in existence?  If only I knew (fill in the blank), then I could finish that page of Jacob's life and bring him more closure.

The opening statement by Cindy Probst was exactly the emotional meltdown I was experiencing,  I had no idea the barrage of sadness that would envelope me during this process.     

Why do I cling so desperately to this hope that if I look hard enough, I will be able to find all the answers?  Could I help fill in that hole that will always be there when he realizes he knows very little about that part of his life? Is it that I think that having one more answer and piece to his puzzle would actually change the person he will grow to be and his self image?  Not likely.  If Jacob's self image is wrapped up in those first unknown and unknowable days and months of his life, then it will be a long road for us all.  And how can I ever expect him to move beyond these feelings if I can't?  The journey has given me a chance to face and digest my own feelings about his beginnings before I have to present them to him.  I am so thankful for that opportunity because when the time comes, I want Jacob to see that his life is a beautiful treasury of a story tinged by sadness and hope, sacrifice and love, and made into a perfect compilation to tell the story of God's redeeming love of our little guy. 

Even those of us who know the ones who birthed us, we are still far from our true self identity if we don't recognize that we already know the One who gave us life.  And He wants us to know Him intimately.  It is He that writes our lifebook and it is in Him that we must trust with the knowable as well as the unknowable.  He is the creator of our first days, our now days, and our next days.

I have a wonderful friend that has been helping me walk through this process.  Just her presence and help alone have given me comfort.  She reminded me once that a child's lifebook is a living document.  It can be changed and transformed as needed and as new information is found or thought about. 

And so, I will keep plugging away, always looking for more opportunities to fill it, and being thankful that I have been blessed to walk this journey beside our son.  This thought filled me one night as I was driving, having just finished the first four pages to his book.  I was thankful I had begun to put his life down and it gave me such a sense of accomplishment and excitement that I cannot wait to share it with him.  Our lifebook not only intends to be a tool for healing and learning for our son, but has also become a place of healing for his Mother as well.