It’s been a while since I’ve contributed a post, and I am interrupting a 3 part series that I was in the middle of with this post, but I am more in the mood to write thoughts than facts tonight.
So, I’ve been asked several times lately “Does he feel like yours yet?” It seems like such a straightforward question. However, I like to over-analyze questions (and think through them) before I give an answer. But, when I’m asked, I’m stuck…. answer and try not to sound stupid. So, my typical answer is an excessively committal “I guess.” Thereby, I answer nothing.
Why is this question so difficult? First, most people who ask know that I have at least one biological child. So, perhaps their real question is “Do you have the same feelings towards him as you do your other children?” The answer is simple and easy: My feelings towards Ty are nothing like my feelings towards Mia or PJ. The problem with the question though is that there is an assumption that my feelings towards PJ and Mia are the same. Of course, this is a horribly false assumption. I do not have the same “feelings” towards any of my children. So the answer to this question would be a resounding “No.” However, when I consider the original question, I am not sure that the answer “no” is correct.
So, I reflect back and perhaps the question is really “Does it feel normal to have him around yet?” I then contemplate “normal.” What is normal? I don’t think there is anything “normal” about our family and our life together. He’s part of our routine now. But it doesn’t feel normal because he doesn’t do things like the other kids. But then again, would any child? Would a newborn infant that had half of my genetic make up feel normal? Not a chance. But the question implies that a newborn infant that was half of my genes would be “normal.” So, in that case, I do not see a difference in the normality of the two and the answer would be a resounding “yes.” However, once again, considering the original question, I’m not sure the answer “Yes” is a perfect fit. Are you still with me?
So, alas, I am stuck reflecting upon the original question “Does he feel like yours?” So, before reflecting upon the concept of a person being “mine,” I have to move tangentially and consider what it feels like for anything to be “mine.” I am also forced to make a distinction between that which is mine and feels like mine and that which is mine and does not feel like mine. <Yikes> My favorite analogy concerning ownership is to describe the feeling when a twelve year old boy works all summer to earn money to buy a bike. That bike feels more like his than if someone gifted it to him or if he found it mystically discarded by someone into his possession. Now, it didn’t exactly take a lot of effort to get the first two kids, but boy did it ever take a lot of effort to get Ty. So, I am faced with a problem: Does Ty feel more like “mine” than PJ and Mia? Surely not. But what am I left with?
I’m left with a conundrum. In order to give a response, I must consider the concept a person being “mine.” If something is mine, it can only ever become “not mine” if either I bequeath it to somebody else, disown it, or it is taken from me. Now, if I were to die, I have not bequeathed, nor disowned, nor had my children taken from me. Why? Because my children aren’t truly “mine.” No matter how God has worked to add children to my family, I am simply a (can’t think of a great word) steward/caretaker/teacher/<insert other here>. So the direct answer to the actual question is “I have no idea” because I don’t know what it feels like to have a child be “mine.”
So, I am left with an “I guess.”
Huh?
sorry Patrick, I thought mel wrote this one.
When I read this the EMAIL and not the BLOG I felt like this was logic or the oposite which would come out of mine own head. When I switched to the BLOG and found out who posted it, I realized it had!!!
Melissa,
Your post reminds of something Tommy wrote on facebook.
The self is a relation which relates itself to its own self, or it is that in the relation [which accounts for it] that the relation relates itself to its own self; the self is not the relation but [consists in the fact] that the relation relates itself to its own self.”
By the way, I got bombarded, in the beginnig, with the “bonding” question every Sunday at church after we adopted Bethany. I said “No, I still feel like I’m watching someone else’s kid.” I can say there is a closeness that I can’t describe-different than when they laid Carrie or Tommy next to me after giving birth. I think when we admit that even some of our biological children aren’t necessarily a good fit, we can acknowledge that each child is a gift and an enormous responsibility. I’ve read that adoptive parents sometimes feel less inclined to admit that maybe there are things about the child that rub you the wrong way. The reason it’s hard to admit is the response you sometimes get-“Well, you wanted to do this.” Basically-you’ve made your bed, now lie in it. I’m not tryng to paint a bad picture, but a realistic one. I wrestled with the same questions (I also tend to overanalyze, as an adoptive parent. I also think that sometimes when I reflect on Peter and Bethany’s temperment or bent and wonder which parent that came from. Us or them. Also I know that Carrie and Tommy have traits, expressions and looks that can be attributed to a biological family member . I know I’m rambling here but there was a point at one time. : )