I’m putting this whole thing below the cut for people who want to avoid any discussion about children of adoption missing their first moms. This is a hard one for me to write because I don’t know if I can do it justice.


We spent the day with Jessica today. We hung out at the historical museum and took pictures of the kids jamming at the toy exhibit going on there. On the way to pick Jessica up we passed the restaurant where Brett and I first met her with the social worker and Jessica’s friends. I said, “Hey! Look! That’s where we met Jessica!” and Noah said, “Yeah! That’s it!” I said, “You weren’t there, honey, you were with Gram and Gramps.”

“I was there!” Madison piped up.
“Actually you were there because you were still in Jessica’s uterus the first time we met her.”

Then later when Jessica was in the passenger seat Madison pointed her little finger at her and said, “I was in your uterus!”

This cracked Jessica up (it’s the word “uterus”) and she said, “Yes, you were. You were in there breakdancing!” Then she told Madison about how she (Madison) would be quiet when Jessica was out running around but as soon as she would sit down to rest, Madison would wake up and start kicking around. Noah was laughing, Madison was grinning and Jessica was demonstrating Madison’s in-utero dancemoves.

I had told Jessica earlier how interested Madison was in these kinds of conversations right now and I was glad that they were having this conversation. I have that oversweet “cozy and warm” description and I liked that Jessica is here to give a more complete version right down to the nocturnal breakdancing. It was really nice.

At lunch Jessica and I talked some about the open adoption article I’m writing and talked some about the sibling issue and it was a good, meaty conversation. Then when we were dropping Noah off at my sister’s (playdate with Frankie) we were talking about how adopted kids often yearn for more birth family connection as they head towards their teens and how I was glad that Madison would have that. We were joking about it. I said, “You know how teen girls are about their mothers and you know she’s going to be complaining to you about me and you’re going to say, ‘Madison, that’s just how Dawn is — she is of another generation.’” And we were talking about how Madison could maybe spend chunks of time with Jessica. Like if she moves away (as she might) that she could spend a summer there or something. I mean, this is what I want for Madison — real access whether or not she takes advantage of it. So it’s good when we revisit this, Jessica and I.

Ok, so that sets the stage. Lots and lots of adoption talk. Lots of lots of “Jessica is Madison’s mother” talk. Lots and lots of “Madison was in Jessica’s uterus” talk.

So I dropped Jessica off and Madison was snoring in the backseat. We drove home and she woke up as we pulled into the driveway but she was still woozy.

We got inside and she started to cry. Not unusual — she’s had a busy day and she’s only half-awake — but she was crying hard. She was inconsolable. I’m singing to her, I’m rocking her, I’m making soothing noises and she was sobbing, sobbing, sobbing. I thought to myself, “Wow, I haven’t seen her cry this hard since she was a baby and had colic.” Her face looked just the same. And her posture — belly to belly with me and her head thrown back, then curving her whole body into mine, cheek leaning on my shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. And just as I was thinking that she said, “I want Jessica!”

At first I’m thinking, “Oh it’s because Jessica was gone from the car when she woke up” but I’m also thinking, “No, it’s more than that.” But I was afraid of projecting because I don’t want to treat a skinned knee with major surgery, right? I mean, there’s a big difference between missing Jessica and missing Jessica. So I said, “You woke up and Jessica is gone and you are so sad!” “Yes,” Madison wails. “I want Jessica! Jessica! Jessica!”

“Do you want to call her?” I asked.
“No! No! I want Jessica!”

I thought, what do I do? How do I find out what’s in her little mind without putting something there? And I’m thinking this because when Noah was little and I’d say, “I know you worry about such-and-such…” My mom would say, “He wasn’t worried about any such thing ’til you put it in his head!” And even though I thought then that she was wrong it still made me worry, you know? And this primal wound stuff — it’s controversial and how much do I believe it? But I do believe it and I believe that children — especially around the age of two when they have some language and are still so close the the beginning — remember their births. And I believe that I know my kids and that my instincts are right on. This was all bouncing around in my head and still Madison was sobbing then I thought of a way to talk to her about it; I decided to tell her a story.

“When you were a little tiny baby,” I said and her sobbing quieted but she was still choking on the tears that kept running down her face. “When you were first born you stayed with Jessica in the hospital for three days. And then you came home to us and Madison, you were very sad then. Sometimes you cried a lot. I think it’s because you missed Jessica so much.”

It was like … I wish I could show you the look on her face. The floodgates opened back up but she had such … relief on her face. She was still crying, mind you. She cried for more than 45 minutes.

“It must have been scary for you,” I said. “You didn’t know me. You didn’t know Daddy. You didn’t know Noah. And you missed Jessica. You wondered where she was. I know she missed you, too, you have really missed each other.”

I told her all the things we did to comfort her. How we sang to her and carried her in the sling. How we patted her bottom while we bounced her and walked in circles around the room. I told her how we made that “shh-shh” sound and rubbed her back.

“It made you feel better but sometimes you still miss her so much. Even though you love us, you wish she was here.”

“Yes,” Madison sobbed.

“Sometimes,” I ventured (because what if I had it wrong? my mom’s admonishment sounding in my ears). “You wish you were Jessica’s little baby still and you wish she could be your mommy.”

“Yes,” Madison sobbed again.

I held her while she cried. What more could I do? I told her how much we love her and how it’s natural to sometimes feel so sad about missing Jessica. That when she’s feeling sad or scared that she can come and gets hugs from me or Daddy or from brother. I told her that when she wants to talk to Jessica then we can call her on the phone or ask her to come visit.

After a long time she decided she wanted a popsicle and she sat in my lap and dripped it all over me then she cleaned up by standing on a chair and swishing a lot of water around in the kitchen sink. Then she looked up and said, “Mebbe next time Jessica come over to our house to play. Yeah.”

I think that this came up because of all our talk and then because she wasn’t fully awake it was able to come through from deep in her heart. I hope it’s made it easier for her to bring it up again. I hope it brought it out from her subconscious to a place where she can access it and process it. I need to tell Jessica about it, too, but I need to do it in a way that doesn’t make her feel like absolute shit. Just today she said, “I think she knows who I am. You know, who I am.” And I said that yes, indeed, she does. I’ve always known she does. She just doesn’t have the words quite to explain how she knows and that’s why we talk about it. She absolutely knows in a profound way that Jessica was her very first mother, her primal mother, her (as politically incorrect as this word is) real mother. I’m not denigrating my motherhood, mind you, I’m just saying that she knows exactly who Jessica is and she knows what happened but the rest of it she’s just figuring out.

Can I tell you — I am pretty damn tired.

For those coming in on a link from a bulletin board:
Another entry that might interest you re., the teatime discussion. For this line, “My kids did not lose a family! They gained!” This one’s for you:
Adoption Verbosity

Hope you figure this out for your kid’s sake.

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