Thinking Through the Issues of Grief
I once read somewhere that you can move through grief, but never around it. Boy, was that disheartening. True, but still, disheartening. I sure would like to take grief, stick it in a box and put it somewhere in the back of the attic and not think about it again. But that’s just not possible and quite honestly, it’s a really bad idea.
As I continue to research and learn more about grief, specifically the grief felt and experienced by adoptees, I’m reminded of how important it is to grieve well. And while grieving is no fun, there is something good about needing to grieve.
Our son Wesley was born in Guatemala and at three days old, he was placed with an incredibly loving and caring foster family. His foster mother, Norma, took amazing care of him from the day he left the hospital until we were given the green light to fly to Guatemala to pick him up and bring him home. Our time in Guatemala was short, but we had the opportunity to spend a day and an evening with Norma and her family. During the hours we spent with Wesley, Norma and her family, we saw that our little boy had been loved well. He had been given the best possible care during the thirteen months we waited to be able to bring him home.
When it finally came time to say goodbye to Norma and her husband Francisco, Norma asked if she could put Wesley to bed in his crib in our hotel room. Of course, we said yes. This was going to be the last time she would put him to bed forever. She loving sang to him and laid him down in the crib, crying and telling him she loved him in Spanish. Somehow he knew that she was saying good bye for good. He stood up in the crib, reaching his little arms out for her and crying hysterically. Norma was crying. I started crying. It was one huge cry fest.
Norma’s husband, Francisco quickly led Norma out of the hotel room. My husband followed, walking them to their car, thanking them profusely in English and what little Spanish he knew. I stayed back in the hotel room, holding and rocking Wesley, trying to give him comfort.
As he reached for the door, crying, desperately wanting to go with Norma, I told myself over and over again, “If he loves Norma this much, he can love me this much.” In a way, his grief gave me hope for the relationship we would one day have as mother and son.
It has been twelve years since we brought Wesley home from Guatemala. He doesn’t talk often about Norma, or even Guatemala, but when he does, I can tell that a little piece of him feels broken and sad. I can tell by the questions he asks, by the intense interest he has in the country of Guatemala, that there is a hole in his heart for the country of his birth, for the foster family that cared for him, for the birth mother who placed him for adoption. And while those feelings can sometimes leave him feeling sad, or leave him a place of longing, I’m reminded that because he was loved well while he was there, he is able to love well here at home.
