Orientation (continued)

Day 2:
This was the emotional day.  There were three panel discussions.  One each from adoptees, birthmothers, and adoptive parents.  Without going into a lot of detail, I will say there were a couple things that stood out and I feel they will 'stick' with me for a long time.
The first is this: I seem to have a habit of underestimating the heart of a child.  For a while, my biggest fear was whether an adopted child would love me as much as a 'real' child.  Wouldn't they always wonder about their birthmother? Wouldn't they always wish [at least partly] that they were a 'normal' child? Even now, writing these out, I realize how silly they sound/look! What child doesn't wish they were more 'normal'?! What child, at one point or another, thinks, "What am I doing in this family?! I am so completely different from all of them!" So, giving myself a smile and a mental shake of my head, I heard something so insightfully obvious...do children not usually have two grandmothers/grandfathers? multiple aunts/uncles? Am I arrogant enough to think their hearts are not capable of loving every one of these people for exactly who they are? Listening to the adopted children (adults now) talk about their parents sealed this in my mind:  They KNOW their parents! They LOVE their parents! They are able to say, "I look just like my birthmother, but she hates Italian food...I definitely take after my MOM." Those are some of the most comforting, beautiful words I have ever heard from a complete stranger.
And the second: the birthmothers showed such compassion and love for the couples they entrusted with their child.  I realize I was hearing from three representatives, the ones that maintained at least some relationship with the agency months/years after-the-fact, so hardly the majority.  However, for them to sit in that room staring at 20 faces of complete strangers, sharing intimate details about their experiences, and having the courage and compassion to actually help make ME feel better about all this?! I am still in awe.  They offered advice as to how to support the birthmother and shared what not to say/do.  What was again very eye-opening, was the blatant differences in each of their stories.  Literally, not one adoption story is just like another.
I won't say much about the adoptive parents' panel, because honestly, I found it to be the most frightening and least helpful (not a reflection on anything except my current emotional state: the people were lovely and their children were precious).
I will backtrack to share this gem: before any of the panelists arrived, a staff member shared a story that flattened every single one of my toes and twisted something sharp and pointy right into my heart.  A woman who had experienced two miscarriages and a stillbirth was to be the adoptive mother.  At the hospital, the birthmother had signed away her rights and was standing in a room with the couple she had chosen.  Just when the birthmother is about to place her baby in the woman's arms, she [the adoptive mother]says, "I can't do this" and takes off down the hall.  The stunned birthmother looks at the adoptive father, says, "Hold your baby" and takes off down the hall after this woman.  She catches up to her and proceeds to say, "This isn't the same...you've lost babies before, but this is not. the. same." Apparently, knowing the pain of losing a child was not something she was willing to inflict on anyone, even if it was their choice.
I was sitting near the front, so I don't have a clue what was going on behind me, but I turned into a tearful mess...for pete's sake, it's not even 9:30...HOW am I gonna sit here all day with stories like THIS?
But, thankfully, that was the only breakdown.  Incidentally, I believe that particular adoption worked out...I really can't say for sure because I was...a mess.
It did make me think some other things though...those that have studied the behavioral sciences and the therapist/client relationship have dealt with counter-transference.  In one 'picture' I have in my head, I'm in a hospital room with a woman and we are just sitting together, hugging, and crying.  In another, I am unable to go into the room because how can I ask this woman to witness MY tears? To share in MY grief that I feel for her? I'm not talking about the happy tears when I look at my child; I'm talking about the 'can I really allow this woman to do this?' kind of tears.  I can not and will not ask her to deal with my sorrow for her anymore than I can ask her child to deal with my feelings of incompetence from infertility.  So, dear friends, All of you who have promised to pray for us, may I ask this of you? Be really specific in this matter for me.  If I am put in this position, may God please equip me to be there FOR HER.  May the words, "I'm sorry" NOT escape my lips.  I applaud the courage and wisdom of the birthmother in this story, but I can't say it was right for her to be put in that position.  Making me feel better about what is happening is not her responsibility.
I know this was a lot; thanks for listening.