“Oh look how cute you were when you were little!”
I had to hold back my urge to kiss her. On the mouth. It would have complicated things between us. And I’m not sure she’d want to visit again.
And I’m embarrassed to tell you that my heart leapt in delight. It took a great deal of self-control to refrain from sitting her down to obtain a feature-by-feature comparison, demanding she outline in detail, exactly where she felt the similarities lay.
I don’t have any pictures of myself before the age of seven. I’ve written about all that before: being adopted from Bangladesh, the orphanage, my birth mother. But the thing is, when you have no point of reference like a baby photo or more importantly, someone who knew you as a baby to say, yes, your children do in fact resemble you, well having someone suggest this, is nothing short of finding a fifty dollar bill in an old jacket pocket.
This not having my birth parents around to affirm my likeness to my kids isn’t the only part of being adopted that weighs on me as a parent. I wonder all the time how and when to tell my boys about the other half of their ancestry. Shaune brings with him a clan of beautiful family to make his birthright come alive for our boys. Gramma and Grampa are a steady part of Deaglan and Naveen’s lives so that they will naturally learn about their paternal roots. I’m so grateful for that. And of course my parents, Mimi and Papa, can fill them in on my life after the age of seven.
But I lived in Bangladesh for long enough that it’s more than the place I was born. I knew my biological parents, spent the most formative years of my childhood being influenced by severe poverty, a deeply entrenched Muslim faith, and even a completely different language. I want the kids to appreciate that, learn from it, and as a result, become conscious of the rest of the world. I hope they someday realize how lucky they were, being born into abundance, hope it enriches them in a way that will see them grow up to become kind, humble and tolerant men.
I don’t have the right answer. I certainly don't want to see the day when I hear them say “yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it; you walked five miles to school, in the snow with no shoes.”
I’m pouring my heart out with Shell.
Wow! I never really thought about what you are going through.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great friend to give you a such a wonderful gift without even noticing it.
I am glad you refrained from the kiss, though. I think you are right it may have freaked her out a bit!! :)
What a beautiful post! I'm not adopted but I'm also bi-racial and so is my son (or is he multi-racial?). I want him to be able to identify with the cultures that defined me and at least have a sense of his history.
ReplyDeleteLove how you pour out your heart...
ReplyDeleteYour beautiful boys will learn so much from your example. They will have a strong sense of their heritage because you share your heart in love and through your writing. This blog will be a wonderful gift to them forever.
Maybe you could plan a holiday every few years. It would be great for them and you. You don't necessarily have to go to the city/place where you grew up but even a different city would help them gain that sense of "where you come from".
ReplyDeleteThere would be so many new and exciting things for them to see that it could also help with the "yea yea I get it" syndrome as well because they would see for themselves that not everyone lives the same as they do.
This touched my heart. So much. I am sorry that you don't have photos but what a moment of beauty in your friend's comment. My kids are biracial too, and I am tickled we have that in common!
ReplyDeleteThe kiss..that would have been awkward.
ReplyDeleteI can understand what you are going through. My husband is from Mississippi while I was raised in a Polish home with my parents who were straight off the boat. We only spoke Polish in our house and I am hoping to pass down my heritage, culture and language to my son but it is hard to do that as just one part of the half.
Kim, I think I would have just given you a hug had I been with you now. I can hardly imagine how you must have felt when you wrote this post. But, you are so right. I was born in an altogether different city from the ones where my parents were born. So, I have all the habits, culture influences and the ways of both parts of this country. However, often times people put me in a box because I look certain way characteristic of a particular culture. Ever since I have been fighting that I do not belong to any of the ascribed traditions. Both cultures form a part of me but they do not define me. The day when I will adopt my kid, I will make sure that she is given the freedom to choose whichever religion, culture or tradition that she finds comfortable unlike the choice given to me.
ReplyDeleteWhen Amy was a baby, all people ever said was "Oh, you look like your daddy!" It was really starting to get on my nerves, until one day in the grocery store the clerk commented on how much Amy looked like me. I wanted to kiss her too, but then we wouldn't have been able to shop there any more, and it was the only grocery store in town!
ReplyDeleteI'm guessing that some day your boys will feel fiercely proud of their heritage-and they will grow up to be extremely kind, humble and tolerant men. And in that respect-they will be even more like their mother:)
xx
What a wonderful gift her comment gave to you! So sweet.
ReplyDeleteNaveen looks just like Deaglan so they must both resemble you. I cannot even imagine what it would be like to not even have a photo of myself from before age 7.
ReplyDeleteBut I do know that your boys are so lucky, not because of what they were born into, but the parents their were born to.
I think you're amazing. At some point in my life, I want to adopt a child. I'm not sure when or how, but it is a calling I feel strongly about. This post has given me a different perspective to think about when it comes time for that- how to honor the birthmother, AND birth place of a child I won't have known for it's entire life. I don't think your story is one that your kids will ever brush off!!
ReplyDeleteWonderful post Kim. Your boys are beautiful and Im sure you were too as a child. I can definately see your features in Deaglan. Bless you for always being so honest with your writing. It always gives me some perspective.- Cheryl
ReplyDeleteGoodness! I never really thought of your situation in regards to your children either. I think they look like you, too - revel in that because my kids don't look like me at all! Excellent perspective:)
ReplyDeleteI can only imagine how tough it may be at times without your biological parents. You however are a wonderful mother, and I know your mom would be so proud. I enjoy your stories so much Kim, I am blessed to be your friend.
ReplyDeleteI really LOVED this post. Thank you for sharing your story.
ReplyDeleteKim, Thanks so much for your email - sorry I haven't written back - I will soon:) So impressed you actually dug up my address! I would have lost it for sure.
ReplyDeleteI have to say, ever since I started reading your blog, when I look at pics of Deaglan all I see is.... YOU! Seriously. He is so you. The smile, the sparkle is his eyes, all his mama. It really strikes me more as he gets older - he reminds me so much of the new cousin I met many years ago...
Did you read the Mommypants moment this week by the Kitchen Witch? She talked about biracial children as well.
ReplyDeleteThose genetic moments matter. My youngest is blond and blue-eyed, like his dad, and Like you, I study him for my ancestors.
But like you, I get what really matters...the stories and traditions and values that make you and your family, well. YOU!
I feel your struggle to instill your heritage in your kids. I didn't appreciate my grandma's and mother's tales of growing up in the Jamaican countryside until I was in my twenties and had gone to Jamaica myself.
ReplyDeleteMy MIL was adopted at the age of 4. When she had breast cancer several years back she asked her sister if she knew where she was adopted from. She had never bothered to ask her mom because she didn't want to hurt her and she didn't care to really know. But when it came to her health she realized she needed to know. Sadly, her sister who is 22 years older than her told her that she didn't know that she was adopted and stopped talking to her.
ReplyDeleteGood for you Kim. I think it is such a wonderful thing to keep this part of you vibrant for your boys. And from what I can tell, you boys will grow into fantastic men! Well done. ;)
ReplyDeleteHow interesting - you just got a picture into your early childhood through your child.
ReplyDelete"I had to hold back my urge to kiss her. On the mouth. It would have complicated things between us." This made me crack up.
I came from RemembeRED. I was going to comment on the first two posts but somehow this caught my eye.
ReplyDeleteI was also adopted, but I was 6 and I still had my mom .. but it hasn't taken away the need to know what parts of me are from "him".
I'm slightly jealous you remember some of your years beforehand .. strange as that may sound, I remember nothing. I loved this post. Bittersweet and truthful. It made my day.