The need to know

Nine years ago today was the day we first brought our boy home with us from the hospital. We’ve been telling our son his birth story since the day we brought him home so it has never been news to him. If you were to ask my son about his adoption story he would be very comfortable telling you about it and about his birthparents as they are as familiar to him as his aunts and uncles.

I am so thankful that we took this open approach with my son and that he knows where he came from. Every adoptive child is different in their want or need to know about their birth family but I can tell you with certainty that OUR son is glad to know.

We recognize this through his favorite stuffed animal, Blue Dog who has been at our house since just before our son’s birth. Usually when someone gives me or my son a gift I am good about remembering who gave it to us and when it came into our house. However, in the case of our son’s favorite stuffy, I can not for the life of me remember who it came from and my son is really, REALLY bothered by that. He has asked me repeatedly over the years who gave him Blue Dog and despite my narrowing it down to the packages I received right before he was born I haven’t been able to pin point the sender.

“Ma, think!” He will say, “You must know who. Just ASK some people!” Which I have! There were a few people that gave us a bunch of stuff right before our son was born and I’ve asked them all, one friend even as recently as this month, yet still I have no clue of his origins.

“Why do you care so much where he came from?” I’ll ask.
“Because I’d want to thank them for him,” he says.
“But isn’t the important thing that he is here now for you?” I’ll ask.
“Yeah, but I still want to know where he came from!” he’ll say.

OK. There is no arguing with that. It’s his favorite stuffy after all. But I told him that this is something he may need to accept that we won’t ever know.

In my head I say silently to myself, “Thank goodness we did an open adoption!” Thank goodness this is a stuffy we are talking about and not his birthparents we are trying to find since he obviously cares very much about a things source.

In terms of his stuffy, sometimes I think it’s actually better not knowing its sender. Instead we can envision that Blue Dog divinely appeared in our house 9 years ago and was placed charmingly inside his crib to be there for my son to love.

At least that’s the current story I’ll tell my son and I plan to stick to it unless I hear otherwise!

Do YOU know where his loved Blue Dog came from?