Seth's 3rd Birthday (3 months belated)

I was so overwhelmed with life when it was Seth's birthday that I never did blog, but I did write in my journal that day. I decided to revisit that day and post it.

It was Becca's birthday yesterday. Birthdays for adoptees are always very complex. A birthday is a reminder that you didn't start out with this family you have now, and that somewhere you have another family. I try to always take time on my adopted childrens' birthdays to acknowledge and honor their birth family. Alex's 14th birthday was sweet this year, because we've been able to reconnect with his Birth Mom and family. Yesterday as Becca and I were talking about her "China Birth Family" (I hope to share with you about Becca and how difficult this week has been for her) I felt I should go back and share my journal entry about Seth's China-Mommy here on the blog.

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Friday November 7^th, 2008

Today is our Seth’s birthday. He is 3 and it is his first birthday with us. I feel so much joy that we have him, that he is ours, for his zest for life, the way he’s thrown his arms wide open to embrace everything new that is thrown at him. But I also feel overwhelmed today with sadness for his birth family. They will never know his smile, his enthusiasm, and even more that they have no idea where he is, if he is warm, if he is safe, if he is even alive.

This morning I’ve been thinking about Siyuan’s birthmom. Who is she? Is she thinking of him as she goes through her day? Is she working in a factory making household items that may someday land in my home. Is she working the fields on a small family farm growing vegetable to sell in the market where she shops alone, childless, empty and aching. Has she given birth a again? Does she now have the perfect son, or has she settled for a daughter. Perhaps she is teaching a kindergarten class their first English words as her heart struggles with loss and regret, not knowing his English has surpassed hers.

I can’t begin to imagine the cruelty of a culture and political system where mother’s must choose, for the good of the family, to abandon their baby, because that baby had the misfortune to be born female, or with some other seeming imperfection. Usually babies are abandoned within a day of their birth, but my Siyuan was 5 days old before his mother found the strength to leave him, to walk away forever. I imagine her inner struggle, knowing that in this country, a son without a hand would never be allowed to work and could never support his aging parents, let alone care for a family of his own. But that didn’t mean she didn’t adore his round cheeks and thick black hair.

I feel angry at the injustice, at the prejudice, perhaps she does too. But nonetheless, she didn’t have choices, not any. All she could do was hold on to him, for one more day, and then another while her heart shattered, refusing to put itself back together. And then she wrapped him up and left him at an apartment complex. Was it hers, did she live there, did she watch from her kitchen window over the courtyard until a kind man took her son away? Did she watch that spot for days, wishing her Siyuan would somehow reappear, so she could snatch him up and take him home. Does she still walk past the spot on her way home from work and feel the emptiness of it?

I imagine the ‘not knowing’ is the worst. I picture her today wondering, “Where is my son? What does he look like now that he’s three? Does he have my eyes or my husbands face? Are people at the orphanage kind or cruel? Does anyone notice when he cries, or has he stopped crying altogether? Or was life so hard, without a hand and without a Mom that he gave up on life altogether?

Most Chinese find it difficult to imagine why a family would adopt a child with a disability like Siyuan’s. Everywhere we went in China people were shocked and perplexed as to why we would want him if he didn’t have a hand. I’m sure it has never crossed his China Mom’s mind, that anyone else would want this son that she wanted, but couldn’t keep. I wish she could peak at his life now. I wish she could see him riding in the jeep around the backyard with Gregory laughing with exultation. I wish she could see how six brothers and sisters delight in this little boy of hers, celebrating his every victory. I wish she would see him cradled in my arms, listening to a lullaby and stroking my cheek. I wish she knew how intelligent he is, imitating everyone, their movements, their speech, absorbing everything about his new life in America. I wish she could see how thrilled he is with the word ‘mine’ and to realize there are things in his life that belong to him, and him alone; His pajamas, his crocs which he must sleep and bathe with, his truck. When she wonders and worries if he’s warm as winter encroaches, I wish she could see him in his crib next to me, wearing his red striped feet pajamas, cuddled up with his flannel cowboy blanket fingering the edges as he drifts into a peaceful slumber. I wish she could see the pure thrill and enthusiasm he has to take a shower, letting the water him full force in the face while he laughs in delight. When she worries about how he’s faring without his hand, I wish she could hear his big brother Gregory tell his friends, “You gotta see Seth’s little arm. It’s RAD!” I wish she could see how uses it to eat, and build toys, and put on his favorite crocs. I wish she could see how I kiss that little arm a hundred times a day because it is so precious to me.

I am grateful to her, for my son. I wonder if his joy and wonder, and enthusiastic embracing of life came from her. I hope losing him, didn’t maim thatjoy in her. But his life, and his joy brings new life and joy to my life and into our family. Four months ago I met my Siyuan, nervous, not knowing who he was, how he’d accept us. But now he’s been mine, and I couldn’t bear to lose him. My life is richer, fuller, more joyful because he is part of it. And so today I honor and remember his China-Mom, and give thanks to God for bringing me my little Seth-Siyuan.