High fancy words-bonding, attachment et al.
Love and affection do not come rationalizing.You like someone, that’s it.The moment you rationalize it becomes a deliberate action, it is not not spontaneous.The question of adjustment does not enter your mind at all.When such thoughts enter,be sure your initial action of love is not true and it is more of a pity and a craving for recognition from peers and society that you have done a great social service.
Again, it is advisable not to adopt children if you have children of your own for it creates problems for all children, including the adopted one later in life.
Imagine the position of the child being shunted out from home to home.
I have observed , in recent times, even one’s own children consider parents as a mill around their neck once they are grown up and find that they no longer feel that parents are needed and euphemistically declare ‘parents do not suit their lifestyle.’
All under the name of individuality!
One must remember you are what you are to day because of your parents and the anguish of parents that they are no longer needed is very painful,as Shakespeare puts it ‘Ingratitude of children,worse than winter’s bitterest cold’
Relationships have now become a matter of being useful to another.
One must remember, Tree will also produce seeds and seeds will also grow to be a Tree and seeds will again reject trees.
Story:
The first time I considered giving up my baby, Dan, I was lying alone in bed. It was midnight, my children were asleep and my husband, a serviceman, was deployed away from home. I was so taken aback by my thoughts that I sat bolt upright, ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. It was dark, but I could see my silhouette in the mirror and I stared to see if I was looking at a demon instead of Dan’s mother.
I ran to Dan’s room, afraid that he was already gone. But he was there, lying on his Thomas the Tank Engine sheets, sucking his thumb and breathing evenly. I caressed his cheek with two fingers and he exhaled. “I love you, little man,” I whispered and kissed his forehead, swallowing down the knot in my throat. I went back to my room and sobbed into my pillow.
Dan was my adopted son. He’s a little boy from South America who became part of my family several months before that frightening night. He arrived through Miami international airport on a Monday afternoon and I was so anxious that on my six-hour drive to pick him up, I dug my nails into the steering wheel leaving marks I can still see today. I couldn’t contain my excitement.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/nov/21/adoption-anita-tedaldi
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