Her Genetic Code

Genetic Code. Sounds like a scientific thingamajig that would be featured in one of Emma's sci-fy fantasy novels. I have always firmly believed in one's genetic code affecting his or her eye color, propensity for athletic talent, predisposition to certain diseases. What I guess I never considered much was how it may affect what a person likes, how he or she feels about things, his or her hobbies. I have always believed you could nurture the nature right out of a person. I regret that now.

I regret that because, in trying to nurture the nature out of a person, I believe I've also been communicating to her--however subliminally and unconsciously--that my way is right and her way is wrong. That she is, in fact, wrong and NOT GOOD ENOUGH.  That kills me to write. What kind of horrible parents have we been, making our daughter suppress her feelings all these years?

Well, honestly, we've been the kind of horrible parents who have always wanted the best for our daughter, and tried to give it to her. We've given her opportunities and encouragement and experiences, just like we should. But, it wasn't until a conversation with a friend of mine that I realized, maybe these weren't the right opportunities, encouragement, experiences--for Emma. Not because we were bad parents, not because she was a bad kid, but because we're different. We have different genetic codes.

Years ago, my cousin, who had been adopted at birth, gave me a book entitled, The Primal Wound (author Nancy Verrier). I read a bit of it, flipped through chapter titles and, honestly, thought it was a bunch of hooey. The parts I read were about how adopted children, even those who were directly placed with their adoptive parents, felt a sense of abandonment deep down. Well. I reasoned, there was no way that was a problem for Emma. First of all, her birth mother had played a cassette tape of my voice to Emma in the womb (I know, amazing lady). I had been in the delivery room and had been the very first person to hold Emma: skin-to-skin. I had used this crazy tube contraption to "nurse" Emma for the first six days of her life. No, this kid had no abandonment issues. Give me a break.

Well... Here's the thing. We had super special circumstances, I know that. But, recently, a friend of mine who had also been adopted at birth (now in her thirties) referred me back to this Primal Wound business. And I cannot deny the similarities between some of Emma's troubles and what this woman was saying. So, if you're an adoptive parent, I'm just saying, read the book or watch the lady's videos on YouTube. You may find good advice. I do, unfortunately, think there may be some truth to this wound for Emma. For other adopted children, even at birth, I definitely see now what the lady was getting at. Just good information to pack in your parenting bag of tricks. But I digress. (I know, you're shocked. Try to stick with me.)

So, the other part of The Primal Wound, the part I never even bothered to read, was genetic code. It is about how you are genetically wired to like certain types of foods, or hobbies, or vacation spots, or careers, or communication styles... So many things. I read this and just wanted to smack myself across the face. Let me give you an example.

When Em was six, we took her to Disney World. Every little girl's dream, right? We visited Ariel and Belle and had breakfast with the princesses. The whole time, Emma had this pained, rectangled-mouth, smile-attempt look on her face. The only things she seemed to enjoy were the safari (got to see a real, alive giraffe--her favorite animal), The Flying Carpet Ride (Eric drew the short straw because we both hate rides), and she LOVED "Soarin'" (a movie/ride that made you feel like you were flying over mountain tops and forests--I had to close my eyes so I wouldn't puke). Do you see a theme there? She liked the rides, we didn't? Yeah, we did not see the theme. We thought--to be real with you--that she should have been more grateful that she got to go to Disney. We know TONS of kids who would have wanted to go. To further cement that in our minds, we took Ben to Disney when he was three. We visited every character he loved and rode two rides (Toy Story and Buzz Lightyear). He loved every single minute of it. "SEE?" We said to our haughty selves. "That's appreciation!"

No, that's genetic code. Eric and I like the same things because we CHOSE one another. We knew going in that we both hate roller coasters, love sitting up late reading at the cabin, want to meet the "friends" we watch on TV. Ben liked the Disney trip we planned for him because his genetic code has channeled him to like the same things we like, and we encourage that. He felt RIGHT liking the characters. Poor Emma not only probably hated the trip, but also felt WRONG for enjoying the rides and not wanting to chat with the princesses.

I told my mom it would be like me being adopted by a family of daredevils. Every year we would go to Cedar Point on vacation. I would hate the roller coasters, The Demon Drop, and whatever else they have there. I would act miserable and scared and sullen. My family would say to me, "What is wrong with you? You never appreciate anything we do for you! There are tons of kids who would want to come here and you're pouting in line, saying you don't even want to go!" Worst of all, I would feel WRONG about hating roller coasters. I would be angry at myself and think, "What IS wrong with me? My brother and sister love it, why don't I? I really must be a rotten kid."

I cannot tell you how many times in her life Emma has said to me, "I'm just mad and I don't know why." Or "I try so hard, but I'm never right." Unfortunately, I have to own up to my part in those feelings, to communicating to her that "The Hall Way" was the only way.

The good news is, I read the stuff. I read it, I opened my mind, and I realized what had been happening for years. Then, Eric and I apologized. We said, "You need to figure out what's right for you. What DO you like?"

You know what we've learned? She doesn't like the cabins. She likes "stuff to do." She wants to live in a big city with tons of people around (my worst nightmare). She isn't even sure she wants to get a driver's license, because she has no plans to own a car. She doesn't like spicy food. She loves raw vegetables. She was crushed when, at age 5, she realized her big Christmas present was a giant dollhouse (the present of MY five-year-old dreams) and not a shelf on which to keep her Nutcracker collection. She's not sure she wants to go to college right after high school. She loves cheerleading and wants to focus all her energy on that in high school.

Just asking her, talking to her, letting her know that HER genetic code was just as valuable and "right" as Ben or Becca's... I really think this has made a huge impact on our relationship the past two weeks. I know it has completely changed some of my thinking.

I feel like I am finally getting to know my daughter, the REAL her, for the first time.  And now, I not only love her all the way to God and back. I also really like her.