I don’t watch Harry’s Law. I have enough lawyer/law/police TV on my already full TV watching schedule and a DVR that’s too full to catch up on everything anyway. But sometimes the TV gets left on, and twice now I have seen this episode, entitled “American Girl.” I missed the judge’s speech the first time around and it made my breath catch in my throat tonight.

The premise of this particular story is that a Chinese biological family traced their daughter to Ohio. They did not place her for adoption; she was stolen and adopted by an American couple four years prior. The American family thought that they had done everything properly, and all legal documents show that they had. They had no knowledge that their child had been abducted and placed for adoption in an illegal manner. They all landed in court in front of the judge. And she had some questions.

“Have you all gotten together with the child.”

“The attorneys have met briefly with the child.”

“But my question is have you all sat down and tried to work this out.”

“No, your Honor.”

“You just lawyered up and charged into court. Alright. Let me tell you how this is gonna go down. I’ll hear from your side, then yours. But you all need to get this. Right now. Those are the biological parents. You cannot change that. And you need to get this. This little girl has been raised, by them, since the age of two. They’re a part of her life. A big part. Like it or not, you’re all in this pot. One side does not get to erase the other. Do you understand me? The five of you will likely be in each other’s lives forever.”

There are some things here that are generally awesome, especially for television.

First and foremost, that we’re even discussing that illegal, abduction-based adoptions even exist is a good thing. There are things that need to be considered and understood when starting down the path of international adoption. The scenes where the biological parents are freaking out that she no longer remembers them and the little girl speaks up in Chinese and says that she does, in fact, know who they are and that she remembers them… well, count me as one of the sobbing. I’m not a member of the international adoption niche, but I can tell you that the more discussions we have about ethical adoptions the better. Even if we’re not talking about my little niche of adoption, I want ethical reform. For all adoptions. For all members of the triad. End of discussion.

Harry's Law.

Of course, the episode got into some undertones of adoption when we see that the judge, herself, was adopted and, thus, struggled with her own emotions. It’s really another point that not even judges come into adoption law without their own personal opinions as to who a child really belongs with. Again, it’s an important discussion: It’s hard to change society’s views because everyone thinks that their experience is the right one.

Getting beyond that part, let’s get to the meat and potatoes of what the judge said.

“Like it or not, you’re all in this pot. One side does not get to erase the other. Do you understand me? The five of you will likely be in each other’s lives forever.”

I want to send people that statement every time they start whining about the other side of the triad. When a birth parent does something “unsavory” or, gasp, cusses. When an adoptive parent pushes too hard — or not enough. When the two adult sides can’t manage to act like adults, be civil and work together. I don’t care if she’s snobby. I don’t care if he’s rude. I don’t care if you’d never otherwise hang out with that person under any other circumstance.

The truth is this: That child brought you together whether you really wanted to be brought together or not. Get over yourselves. Get your head in the game. Get back to the heart of the matter. Whether you shut the door or not, you’re still in each others’ lives. Why not act like a compassionate, real human being?

All that said, don’t watch the end of the episode unless you want your heart ripped out. And stepped on. Twice over.

 

Let’s ignore the horrible ick-squick factor of the Puck-Shelby kerfuffle. I have to or my brain explodes. (And I repeat: Juno did it first and it sucked then. End of story.)

Let’s dig into the meat and potatoes of why I cried last night while watching Glee (when I wasn’t sobbing over Santana).

Puck to Quinn: I’m not angry at you. I let you down. We all did. You just spent a whole week helping Santana with a secret everybody already knows, and not one person took ten seconds to help you. And you’re a freaking mess. You have been for three years… ever since I knocked you up. You don’t need a baby or a dude or anybody to make you special.

Quinn and Puck

I had to pause and get more tissues, as Santana’s storyline had exhausted them all.

Finally. Finally someone acknowledged, with words, that Quinn is a freaking mess. Everyone has been calling her the crazy, baby-stealing birth mother, but I said that I saw a birth mother who was obviously, without question, hurting. No one had offered her any help, a kind word, any counseling. No one had even mentioned it in a season. She had a baby. And it was never mentioned again save for the last episode of last season and then, bam, this season.

Yes, she’s hurting. Yes, she’s a freaking mess. You don’t relinquish your child without some kind of freaking mess. The best of us are able to talk it out with unbiased counselors who have experience with birth parent grief and loss. The worst of us… they don’t make it. The ones in between, the majority of us, try to find ways to piece it all together, to make it work, to enjoy the good, to grieve the bad, to make some sense of the hurt, the pain and the fear. Some of us hide the freaking mess better than others. Sometimes even those who are masters of disguise fall apart in public sometimes when we’re poked or prodded or put on display as some kind of role model — for the good or the bad.

And I can assure you that not one of us wants to be a freaking mess.

I don’t enjoy the hole in my heart. I don’t like how, as her birthday draws near, my first instinct is to hole up within myself, curl into a ball and hold very still until it all passes. I don’t wish this pain, this hurt, this emptiness on even my worst of enemies.

I understand those who lash out in anger. I understand those who put on the happy face. I understand those who turn to alcohol or drugs. I understand those who put on the ambivalent face of disinterest. I’ve done it all — save for drugs and alcohol (and probably only the latter because my kidney disorder makes me a rather cheap date). I understand that all of that comes back to the hurt, the ache and wanting someone, anyone — just one damn person — to understand how it feels. To ask you if you’re okay. To sit in silence with you as you stare at her picture on her birthday.

I understand.

Yes, Quinn is a freaking mess. I may never have tried to prove Dee as an unfit parent. I may never have tried to get my daughter’s birth father to sleep with me to create another perfect baby. But I’m a freaking mess too. I just hide it better. Maybe because I’m older. Maybe because I’m not a fictional character on a television show mostly aimed at teenagers. But make no mistake: I hurt just as bad as Quinn. I just deal with it differently.

All of that heartfelt stuff aside, I figure Puck’s actions and revelation to Quinn about said action won’t bode well for any real open adoption relationship between Quinn, Puck, Shelby and Beth. I predict a very big and dramatic end to this storyline, all tidied up nice and neat when Quinn decides to go off at the end of the school year and follow her dreams.

Like a good birth mother should. Right? Sigh.

© 2011 The Chronicles of Munchkin Land Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha