Umbilicus: An autobiographical novel

PSYCHOBABBLE

        'THERE'S SOMETHING I'VE BEEN wanting to ask you, and I hope you don't think I'm prying. Some people don't like talking about these things, and I will totally understand if you don't want to. But I was wondering if you got any counselling, any therapy, related to your adoption? I mean, I was assured by Child Welfare you were a happy, healthy, well-adjusted child, but I must admit I had my doubts it was peachy keen all of the time.'

'Hah! They lied. They just told you what they knew you wanted to hear. I was a very happy kid, yes, but I was not a happy teenager. Oh God, I gave my parents so many grey hairs. Unfortunately our relationship is still strained to this day.'

'I knew it. Gosh, what's the point of asking for updates on your child when they're just going to spin a bunch of bull. Dammit, it makes me so mad! I guess I was always worried about how you were coping, if you were coping. If you had someone to talk to, about some of the things I imagined must be going through your mind.' She pauses and takes a loud, angry sip of coffee.

'Well, no, I never had any counselling about being adopted per se. But my folks did send me to see a shrink. Once. It was after I nearly got expelled for taking cigarettes on a school tour in Standard Seven. This chick was a colleague of Dad's who touted herself as a specialist in treating "troubled teens," or whatever they like to call it, but when I cottoned on to the fact she didn't have a frickin' clue about adoption, I just shut down and refused to go back. What was the point? As far as I was concerned, it was a complete waste of my time and my parents' money. Like a lifelong teetotaller trying to connect with and counsel a raging alcoholic. What a joke!'

'Did they not then try and find someone who specialised in adoption for you to talk to? Or perhaps group therapy, where you could speak to other adoptees, people who were in the same boat as you?'

'Nope.'

'So you've received no professional counselling on your adoption whatsoever.'

'Nope. I basically grew up with this big fat elephant in the room. Everything I know about adoption I've learnt from books.'

'Really? Any in particular?'

'Well, as a kid it was all these sweet little picture books that my folks gave to me, or read to me. 'Moses in the Bulrushes' and 'Mowgli' and 'Superman' type stories. But just over the past year or so, these two great new books aimed at adult adoptees came out. I found them in the library. Someone apparently donated them. The one talks about a primal wound*, and the other about a ghost kingdom**.'

She nods encouragingly.

'Okay, so the first author believes all adoptees, even those adopted right from birth, retain memories of the separation from our birth mothers, and these memories will have effects on our emotional and psychological wellbeing, right through childhood and into adulthood. She says the bond between a mother and her biological child goes right down to a cellular and spiritual level, and the severing of that bond, even if the child is still a tiny baby, results in a primal wound, a hole in that child's soul. If that wound is not acknowledged, then the hurt can manifest itself in things like depression, anxiety, genealogical bewilderment, and acting out in self-destructive or anti-social ways.'

'Bewilder—what?!'

'Genealogical bewilderment,' you laugh. 'It's what happens when there are huge chunks missing from a person's narrative. For someone like me, who grew up knowing virtually nothing of my past, it can be difficult to form a coherent sense of self.'

'Got it. Makes perfect sense.'

'They say that genetic ancestry gives you knowledge about yourself, your heredity. Which in turn gives you knowledge about who you are, your identity. And the knowledge of both heredity and identity are needed for normal psychological development.'