Laughter and Forgetting

What blows

You know what really blows? That when this horrific tragedy occurred last week, AP news felt it was relevant to put the word "adopted" in the headline. I will agree that that particular information is somewhat newsworthy, it is unusual that a family might adopt that many children, and the information does add interest to the story. But this should have been listed as an aside later in the story. By shouting it out in the headline it is demeaning to the family and to the children, as though they're worth is somehow different because of their adoption.

Many will argue that I am too sensitive. That the reporters didn't mean anything by it. And I'm sure they didn't. But subconsciously this headline enforces the values that so many in society put on adoption. That adopted children are different - it's not the same thing as losing "your own." If the headline was "Seven African American Children..." you can bet that there would be quite the uproar about them being singled out. Children are children, the critics would say, what does their race have to do with anything? I know most newspapers in the country try to avoid using racial descriptions unless it is relevant to the story. These children being adopted was not relevant to the fact that this whole family was wiped out in the blink of an eye.

Later I read this article, which explains that only four of the children were adopted (or about to be adopted) that the driver was a biological child, and two of the children were cousins. Nicky, the biological daughter, is depicted as a saintly caregiver who doted on her "adopted" siblings. Somehow it seems that she was that much more special because her siblings weren't biological.

In a totally different venue, it also blows that Us Weekly is reporting that an "expert" (I never said that I only read Harpers) has explained that Brad and Angelina may bond better with their own biological child than with their adoptive children; inferring that genes is the overriding force in parental love.

I know many people that have both adopted children and biological children, and I have read about dozens of others. Every single one of them has assured me that there is no difference in how they love their children. And it sucks that society at large chooses to believe that they are a. lying or b. saints who have abnormal capacities for love and generosity.

I have a coworker that is currently adopting a baby from Guatemala. Another well educated, intelligent and liberal coworker told me about it and said that "they are still planning on having their own children, but just want to do this now." I didn't say anything the first time, but by the third time I heard her explain to someone that the couple will also have "their own children," I interjected, "Mary, this child WILL be their own child. It may not be their genes, but it will be their child." Startled, she acknowledged that I was right, and apologized. I know people aren't malicious, that they don't realize the subtle prejudices that they reinforce, but when will they start to learn? When will "adopted" not have be a label that means "not real." When will it be okay to leave out the word "adopted in magazine and newspaper articles about families, whether they are celebrity families or families touched by tragedy?

I know a lot of people think I'm a whiney ass. "But you know what she meant," people say. Yes I know what she meant, but as an adoptee, if I am not my parents "own" child, then whose child am I? I am certainly not my biological parents child, and although I have met them, and like them, they are not my family. So when I hear people talk about "their own" children versus adopted children, I feel like they are dismissing who I am, that they are negating my personal history.

It sucks that during and after the miscarriages, I was slow to come to adoption for that very reason. I think it's the reason that more adoptive children don't embrace adoption. Yes, they want a biological connection that they missed as a child. I know I wanted that. But the main reason I resisted it is because I didn't want people to feel sorry for me, or my child. I didn't want my child to have to go through her life feeling that her family wasn't recognized by society. The turning point for me was when I realized that these children would be adopted by someone. By not adopting I was not going to save any child from going through the complicated emotions of adoption. I realized it might as well be me doing the adopting, that there are a lot worse parents than me for adoptees.

It blows that people criticize adoption as the buying of babies. I'm not saying black market adoptions haven't happened, I know they happen to this day. But the reality is that the alternative for most of these babies is a life in an orphanage or with multiple foster care providers. And the vast majority of mothers aren't selling the babies. They have made a decision that they cannot care for their child. It's a lovely thing that there exists a system where babies need good homes, and parents are more than eager to provide them. And another reality is that we buy our biological babies too. If I hadn't had health insurance I could have paid up to 20k for my c-section and extended hospital stay. People pay for their babies, it's just on the long term payment plan.

It blows that a year after putting the screeching brakes on our aspirations for a second child, that I still think about having a child, adopted or otherwise, almost every day. It's hard to imagine going back to babyhood when I have my independent six year old in the house. But I would do it. Because infancy and toddlerhood passes, and we're all just a few years older. What the hell would I be doing anyways?

I don't know if it blows that I'll never get the chance to find out. There are so many good things, lucky things, about where we are. But some days it makes me sad. Still.

cancer

My mother-in-law has quite the cancer record. Twelve years ago she was diagnosed with agressive naso-pharyngeal carcinoma. She did heavy duty chemo and radiation and went into remission. In the U.S., 3600 people a year get nasopharyngeal cancer, and it comprises one percent of head and neck cancers.

A year ago she had gallbladder cancer. Only 1000 Americans get this kind of cancer every year. It was totally unrelated to her previous bout of cancer. She appears to have beaten that cancer as well.

Now she has another tumor in her sinuses (naso-pharyngeal again). But this time it is a a sarcoma, almost certainly caused by the radiation that she received a dozen years ago. only 5% of cancer patients will actually have a recurrence of cancer due to their radiation treatments.

From the Cancer Care Alliance:

"Sarcomas are rare (only about 1 percent of all cancer cases annually), and they can be difficult to diagnose. The best place to go for diagnosis and treatment of these rare cancers is an academic medical center where our doctors provide the most up-to-date treatments to hundreds of people with sarcoma every year.

'We see people who are diagnostic challenges,' says Dr. Conrad, director of SCCA's Sarcoma Service."

That's my mother-in-law, the chronic diagnostic challenge.

All this just validates my opinion that statistics are strictly for doctors and insurance companies. Despite odds that seem overwhelming for or against one individual, when it happens to you, it's 100%. The numbers are just averages, and mean nothing, absolutely nothing, to the individual.

Unfortunately for my mother-in-law, this sarcoma has about a 99.9% of killing her. It is an incredibly fast growing cancer that has completely blocked her nasal passages and is spreading out it's killer tentacles with the abandon of a noxious weed. It's took a month to nail down a diagnoses and half the doctors have said, in so many words, "go home and make yourself comfortable, because it won't be long now."

A couple of other doctors have been more proactive, and pushed for treatment. Chemo is usually ineffective against sarcomas, so the more common treatment is radiation and surgery. My mother-in-law's tumor is inoperable due to it's proximity to the brain, and she cannot receive radiation because she already received her maximum radiation with her previous head and neck cancer. However, there is a brand new treatment, called a Cyber Knife (which, interestingly is radio-wave based), that is so precise it would not touch her surrounding tissue, only the tumor. Her radiologist here is pushing for using it, but the only operable machine is in Colorado, and the doctors there would need to agree to do it. On Friday, the Colorado doctor called and said he had concerns about doing the treatment. Again, in so many words, he expressed that he felt that the treatment would not be helpful. It would not do any good. It is her only option.

While we knew the treatment would probably not cure her, we thought it might give us more time. More time with her. and also more time to explore other options, and work with naturopathic doctors that might help slow the cancer. While I understand the position of the doctor in Colorado, he doesn't realize he is taking away all hope. And lack of hope will kill her that much faster.

As it is, my mother-in-law has recently turned to morphine for her pain. This from a woman who never has more than a half a glass of champagne, and who can't take codeine because it makes her nauseated. This woman is a martyr, if she is taking morphine she is in excruciating, take your breath away pain. She can hardly swallow, and breathing is an effort. She is in misery.

When my husband saw the most recent MRI, he described it as a "tumor the size of Texas" growing in her head.

So now, intermixed with discussions about doctors, and treatments and trying to get in to yet someone else, we are having talks about death. Immediate, in your face talks about what will happen next. What will happen to my father-in-law, who, although he is only 69 and in great health, cannot make a long distance phone call, because his wife does it for him. He doesn't pay the bills, or make anything more sophisticated than coffee. He has led a coddled life. We need a Do Not Resuscitate Directive. We need to buy a burial plot. You would think some of this would have been done before. But my in-laws like to live in denial, and frankly, up to now, it has worked for them.

Do you take your six your old to a funeral? We have determined yes, but explain the situation thoroughly before you go. How do you keep the memory of the favorite grandparent alive? Do we have the right recipe for her world renowned pie? How will we deal with the loss of a mother's unconditional love? How do we keep her close?

My mother-in-law takes care of people. That is her whole life; repressing her own needs for those of others. She cannot bear to stop taking care of people. My husband and I have both let her know that we will take care of the people she leaves behind. We will. And perhaps in that way we will get through this.