Both the Hulu series and book by Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere, have sparked a blaze in me as I devoured both from the perspective of an adult adoptee, mother, daughter, and writer. In celebration of both the book and the on-screen adaptation, over the next several days I’ll be sharing some of my reflections on various themes that stood out for me. There will definitely be spoilers in this review series, so if you haven’t yet watched and/or read, you may want to flag these for a different time, once you have.

Little Fires Everywhere and Surrogacy

One of the things that struck me as I read the book was the theme of surrogacy.

Born by Surrogacy

There is the obvious storyline of Mia hired as a surrogate—a plotline that fascinated me because surrogacy is something that I don’t often ponder on a deep level. I’m thankful for Little Fires Everywhere for bringing this to my attention, helping me reflect on how children born through surrogacy can mirror some of the experiences of relinquishment that affect adoptees. Questions common to both experiences include:

• How is your identity shaped by not knowing a significant genealogical relative?
• How does parental loss and wondering affect you growing up, especially as you embark on the adolescent journey that’s all about making sense of who you are?
• How can withheld information and secrecy erode your relationship with the caregivers you need to trust?

In addition to the literal storyline of surrogacy, I also relished the way Little Fires Everywhere made me think about other expressions of mother surrogacy.

Mother Surrogates

Izzy and Elena had a strained mother-daughter relationship for various reasons. From my perspective having studied child development and attachment dynamics for the last decade through The Neufeld Institute, Izzy was born more sensitive for this world. This was portrayed through her difficulties breastfeeding and coming to a place of rest as an infant, and at the onset of adolescence, through her keen ability to pick up nuances that hardly blipped on her siblings’ radars.

Izzy (portrayed by actor Megan Stott), is also full of counterwill—a resistance that’s only natural during adolescence, but especially so when her mother’s agenda is so strong and leaves little room for anything that doesn’t squeeze into her tight box of what is considered “perfect.” Counterwill is important and necessary, but since unwelcomed and fought by Elena (played by Reese Witherspoon), it made for an especially rocky mother-daughter relationship with Izzy.

Izzy and Mia

Because of this strain, Izzy goes on the search for other mothers. As someone who’s written about my own experiences searching for other mothers when my own didn’t live up to my idealized image of “perfect,” I could really relate to Izzy as a character.

I also felt immense relief for Izzy as she found a mother surrogate in Mia Warren (played by Kerry Washington). While less than ideal that Izzy needed to go outside her family to find a caring adult who could see and accept her as she was, Mia turned out to be exactly the caring adult who Izzy needed, at exactly the right time. Mia, as a role model and mother surrogate, normalized Izzy’s complicated emotions, nurtured Izzy’s natural artistic emergence, and filled Izzy with hope for the future.

Pearl and Elena

Likewise, there were ways Elena Richardson served as a mother surrogate to Pearl (played by Lexi Underwood). Even if Elena had ulterior motives at times (portrayed in greater detail in the novel), she offered Pearl maternal support in ways that Mia could not: career advice, a sense of structure, and a more gushing form of affection. In the novel, Pearl’s initial observations are noted this way:

“Mrs. Richardson was quick to hug her—her, Pearl, a virtual stranger—simply because she was one of Moody’s friends. Mia was affectionate but never effusive; Pearl had never seen her mother embrace anyone other than her. And yet there was Mrs. Richardson coming home for dinner, pecking each of her children atop the head and not even pausing when she got to Pearl, dropping a kiss onto her hair without a moment of hesitation. As if she were just one more chick in the brood.”

Sometimes children are hard to parent. Other times parent do miss the mark in certain areas—especially when our own stuckness or humanity rubs up against that of our children. Sometimes we aren’t meant to be everything to every child all of the time. Sometimes we need the support of others from the community to fill in the gaps. And sometimes there is simply a natural human tendency to want what you don’t have. It’s where expressions like “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence” are born.

This isn’t always sinister. Even though it made more compelling drama on screen by having a dose of suspicion and secrecy at play, mother surrogacy doesn’t have to equate to two mothers pitted against one another. Because at so many times Little Fires Everywhere showed Elena pointing Pearl back to her mother for permission, and Mia doing the same, this important nuance felt honored. It was subtle, but we saw that two women can be allies in mentoring and mothering children together, even without intention.

But are mothers replaceable? This is a key question I had to wrestle with extensively as an adoptee and as a mother, and have written about as a key theme in my memoir, Searching for Mom. And so it is a question I considered throughout Little Fires Everywhere while thinking about the multiple mothers and daughters portrayed.

May Ling, or Mirabelle, and Bebe/Linda

This brings me to the emotionally charged situation of young May Ling (or Mirabelle) and the battle—in court and in the media—between her first/birth mother, Bebe Chow (played by Huang Lu), and her adoptive mother, Linda McCullough (portrayed by Rosemarie DeWitt). Again, two mothers pitted against each other: the adoptive mother, a surrogate for the first mother who gave up her child for a variety of complicated factors that I’ll get into in a different review.

As we learn the story of both mothers, it’s hard not to sympathize with each of them in different ways. Both Bebe and Linda have experienced a lot of loss—more loss than seems humane or fair for any mother to bear.

And here is where I had hoped for a little less subtlety. As an adoptee who has felt a massive mother-divide and spent a lifetime yearning for an honoring of both mothers, I really wanted Little Fires Everywhere to go a bit further in showing that both mothers could be the answer.

RELATED: Moses and Me: A Biblical and Personal Case for Honoring Birth Mothers

We see that, of course—through Bebe’s ongoing missing and pursuit of her lost daughter, and through the caring Linda expresses through physical closeness, affection, and an entire extra room filled with toys (however misguided coming from a place of such privilege). But we’re left to form our own opinions. This is always important in storytelling.

And yet, I would have loved a hint to an answer to the question, “Are mothers replaceable?” to be a bit more leading. I yearned for at least one character—even if not a major player, but the social worker, one of the lawyers, or simply a news reporter—to more strongly point Linda in the direction of honoring both mothers. It may not have been realistic, especially for the time period in which Little Fires Everywhere is set, when open adoption and honoring of first/birth mothers was still so new to the scene. But it would have been more helpful to the adoption conversation in this era.

Speaking of conversation, let’s have some! I’ve been really interested in others’ perspectives on the thought-provoking Little Fires Everywhere and surrogacy as it pertains to all of its expressions of motherhood. Are mothers replaceable? In what ways could both mothers be honored in each of the various mother-daughter relationships depicted? Is adoption surrogacy, or is it something else? What other examples of surrogacy did you pick up on? Join me in the conversation on Facebook or Instagram.

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