LilMtnCbn
02-06-2005, 09:21 AM
http://ww1.mid-day.com/columns/farahbaria/parentthesis/2005/february/103037.htm
Nature v/s nurture
By: Farah Baria
February 6, 2005
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Yesterday, I met a remarkable woman with three children. “Three
daughters,” she qualified, with quiet pride. “Wow!” I said, almost
wistfully. “I have two.”
“Do you want another?”
I shook my head vehemently.
“Why not?”
“Can’t handle another pregnancy.”
“Who says you have to get pregnant? I didn’t!”
“Oh. Immaculate conception, huh?”
“Something like that,” she chuckled softly. “Devika is our only
biological daughter. The other two are adopted.”
The first was a four-month infant, who slipped seamlessly into the fabric of
their lives. The second was 12 years old. And blind. “When she came from the
orphanage she was your average, rebellious adolescent,” remembers her mother.
“Today, she’s a mature, sensitive, intelligent young woman.”
“But why did you choose to adopt when you could have your own?” I
couldn’t help blurting, rather gauchely.
The woman thought about it, as if for the first time. “I’ve always been
lucky,” she said finally. “I had a happy childhood and loving parents. My
husband and I have a good marriage and enough money. So after Devika was born,
we felt it was time to repay our debt.”
“Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Ask it, anyway.”
“Do you love your adopted children as much as your own child?”
She smiled at my clumsy curiosity. “Let’s just say I love my natural
daughter as deeply as my adopted ones. Does that answer your question?”
Spiritspeak
To be honest, no. Because for most of us ordinary folk, adoption remains a
question mark. Can love actually transcend biology? What if we screw up? And
— scariest of all — will they reject us once they know the truth?
“But when you truly open your heart to let someone in, the questions
automatically disappear,” says another remarkable woman I know, who adopted a
girl after having her own son. I remember the day they brought the baby home,
two bleak, uncomfortably wise eyes staring out from an astonishingly adult
little face.
She would sleep with her fists tightly tucked under her chin, terrified of the
slightest sound.
Yet, miraculously, when I went back a month later, I found a new child: this
one had eyes like shiny black buttons in a round baby face. And she slept with
her arms wide open, as if to embrace the universe.
Psychobabble
If you have ever wondered whether adoption really works, my friend Tushna is
living proof that it does. (“Beautifully!”).
A psychotherapist by profession, Tushna was adopted at birth, something she
always knew. “My mother used to tell me I was a lucky little girl because
unlike other children who were given to their mummies and daddies, I was
chosen.
And so I grew up feeling kind of special.” What’s more, mother and daughter
share a relationship that would be the envy of many a ma-beti. “She’s more
than a mum; she’s a trusted aide, and my best friend.”
Tush, who gave birth to her own child five years ago and is eagerly awaiting
another, says adoptive couples have to work harder at making their children
feel safe and loved. But they probably make better parents simply because they
don’t take their roles for granted!
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
Nature v/s nurture
By: Farah Baria
February 6, 2005
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
------
Yesterday, I met a remarkable woman with three children. “Three
daughters,” she qualified, with quiet pride. “Wow!” I said, almost
wistfully. “I have two.”
“Do you want another?”
I shook my head vehemently.
“Why not?”
“Can’t handle another pregnancy.”
“Who says you have to get pregnant? I didn’t!”
“Oh. Immaculate conception, huh?”
“Something like that,” she chuckled softly. “Devika is our only
biological daughter. The other two are adopted.”
The first was a four-month infant, who slipped seamlessly into the fabric of
their lives. The second was 12 years old. And blind. “When she came from the
orphanage she was your average, rebellious adolescent,” remembers her mother.
“Today, she’s a mature, sensitive, intelligent young woman.”
“But why did you choose to adopt when you could have your own?” I
couldn’t help blurting, rather gauchely.
The woman thought about it, as if for the first time. “I’ve always been
lucky,” she said finally. “I had a happy childhood and loving parents. My
husband and I have a good marriage and enough money. So after Devika was born,
we felt it was time to repay our debt.”
“Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Ask it, anyway.”
“Do you love your adopted children as much as your own child?”
She smiled at my clumsy curiosity. “Let’s just say I love my natural
daughter as deeply as my adopted ones. Does that answer your question?”
Spiritspeak
To be honest, no. Because for most of us ordinary folk, adoption remains a
question mark. Can love actually transcend biology? What if we screw up? And
— scariest of all — will they reject us once they know the truth?
“But when you truly open your heart to let someone in, the questions
automatically disappear,” says another remarkable woman I know, who adopted a
girl after having her own son. I remember the day they brought the baby home,
two bleak, uncomfortably wise eyes staring out from an astonishingly adult
little face.
She would sleep with her fists tightly tucked under her chin, terrified of the
slightest sound.
Yet, miraculously, when I went back a month later, I found a new child: this
one had eyes like shiny black buttons in a round baby face. And she slept with
her arms wide open, as if to embrace the universe.
Psychobabble
If you have ever wondered whether adoption really works, my friend Tushna is
living proof that it does. (“Beautifully!”).
A psychotherapist by profession, Tushna was adopted at birth, something she
always knew. “My mother used to tell me I was a lucky little girl because
unlike other children who were given to their mummies and daddies, I was
chosen.
And so I grew up feeling kind of special.” What’s more, mother and daughter
share a relationship that would be the envy of many a ma-beti. “She’s more
than a mum; she’s a trusted aide, and my best friend.”
Tush, who gave birth to her own child five years ago and is eagerly awaiting
another, says adoptive couples have to work harder at making their children
feel safe and loved. But they probably make better parents simply because they
don’t take their roles for granted!
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
