"On Selflessness vs. Selfishness"

Two gifts of selflessness

selflessness:  being more concerned with the needs of others than with your own needs; self-sacrificing

selfishness:  concerned chiefly or excessively with self and having little regard for others

Sitting down in my rocking chair with my morning elixir of green tea laced with honey and apple cider vinegar--with the "mother" of course, I began what has become my morning ritual, that of scrolling through various news feeds on my iPad.  I have forgotten the merit and value of the tea/honey/vinegar combination, but I think it has something to do with alleviating stiffness in the fingers.  While I refuse to apply the label arthritic, it does seem to help a bit. 

One of the first articles I read was about a young woman, pregnant with twin girls, having an abortion at 20 weeks.  One of her justifications for the abortion was that she already had two girls. After reading the details of what is involved in late-term abortions, I found a seething outrage developing within over what I could only see as an act of selfishness.   

"Children are a gift."  That is my mantra, "It matters not how they are given."  And I would add that, while some pregnancies may come at an inopportune time under difficult circumstances, they are not a mistake, the children an inconvenience.  Life is a gift.  

Many years ago, almost 50 in fact, I found myself in a place of desperately wanting a child and unable to become pregnant.  If you were to question my Heavenly Father, He would no doubt shake His head and rub His ears upon being reminded of that time in my life. The begging, pleading, crying, dare I say--harassing, was endless.  Driven by that intense desire with no fulfillment was one of the most difficult times of my life. 

Fertility drugs were still experimental but were presented as an option,  Multiple births were frequent and, after being told of a mother in Australia conceiving nine babies, I declined.  My thought was that I had asked God for a baby, not a litter.    

It was then the idea of adoption was placed in my mind, a door opening up.  Having stepped through, I've never looked back.

The phone call came from the adoption agency saying our little girl had been born.  My thoughts immediately went to her birth mother, the pregnancy, labor, and delivery she had just experienced, the sacrifice she was making, and the fact that she was going to leave the hospital empty-handed and broken-hearted.  I asked God to give her peace and to let her know she had done the right thing.  In a time of closed adoptions, where all records were sealed by the courts, I never expected to ever meet her or see her.
Thirty-one years later, I was given yet another gift when my firstborn grandgirl was adopted by my daughter and her husband through the same agency. Times and laws had changed.  This was an open adoption, one where the birth mother chose the parents who would provide a home for and raise the child she was carrying. It was agreed between the parties involved that a level of communication and contact would take place as she grew up.          

My son-in-law was President of the Oregon Logging Conference for 2015-16; as "First Lady," my daughter had certain responsibilities.  One was to present a charity at a dessert luncheon, the proceeds from the luncheon to benefit that charity of choice.  She chose Boys' and Girls' Aid Society of Oregon, the adoption agency both she and her daughter, my grandgirl, were adopted through.  Her plan was to make a video presentation rather than a verbal one, and she wanted to incorporate all those women in her life who had been a part of her very personal adoption experience.

We were to meet for a photo session and dinner.  There were five of us, ranging in age from 16 to 71, connected by a common bond, a thread which wove its way through all our lives, that of adoption.  Two birth mothers, two adoptive mothers, two adopted children. My daughter was the unique one to be both an adoptee and an adoptive parent. 

At the restaurant, my daughter's birth mother and I were seated next to one another. Birth mother and child had made a connection several years earlier.  I had met her then, but we hadn't really talked.  As the dinner neared an end, she leaned over to me.  "She's beautiful. You did such a good job raising her."  It was then I was able to thank her for the priceless, selfless gift she had given me.  I told her of my prayer for her--Yes, she had been given peace.  I told her of the first time I held her precious gift and that I never took for granted the pain she had gone through or minimized how difficult the decision was to give her child to another, never expecting to ever see her again. 
  
Whether one is selfless or selfish, those traits are not ones which can be covered up or hidden.  They are readily visible, manifest in behavior, actions, and attitudes; words never factor in.  A base, a foundation within each one of us, they are seen and felt by our families and fellow man.  At the core of all that we do, we come from either a place of selflessness or selfishness.

Facing the option of abortion and choosing instead to carry their babies full-term, two women made the ultimate sacrifice, that of giving up their children.  I'm certain it was the hardest thing they ever had to do.  I cannot imagine my life without these gifts.  My life and that of my family would have a huge hole in it, an enormous void were it not for this, the epitome of selflessness. I am eternally grateful--to these two and to the One who heard my cries and answered.




I am reminded of the One Who asked no more than what He, Himself did.  

"God loved the world so much that He gave His one and only Son....."