We have been on this road to adoption for a long time. This November will actually mark 5 years since we signed our first official paperwork taking us down this path. During this time it felt like we were constantly counting down, running a race, to break the tape at the end of the marathon. Well we did it! We finished the race. But it wasn’t just a race. It wasn’t just a countdown. These are two very precious, very broken, and very strong children that we’ve brought into our family. Human beings in need of parents. Not many of us can say that we have been completely abandoned as our children can say they were. And it could have been for many reasons – one of them being love – that Jack and Charlotte’s first parents decided they could not care for them. There are two more mothers and two more fathers that are now a part of our family though we will in all likelihood never know their faces. A family had to break before a new one could be formed.
There is so much about the children’s past that we will never know. Many of the things we do know we are keeping private. It’s not our story to tell, it’s theirs. When they are old enough to hear it from us they can decide when and with whom to share it with. However I will say that in their short time on this earth they have had more changes that most people go through in their entire lives. Both children are in their forth home – be it birth parents, foster homes, foster families, orphanages, or us. To have gone through all these changes in less than 2 years old and 5 years old has had an effect on them. Wouldn’t it affect you? If any of us dealt with those situations, constantly switching hands from one caregiver to the next, would it not affect your ability to trust and love another human being?
Unfortunately both children are too young to fully understand and verbalize all that they have endured. They don’t have the language or ability to comprehend that they are truly and forever home. They just moved – again. No one asked them if they wanted to come. The day came for them to leave and they left.
This is that tragedy of adoption. This was not the way a child should experience family. When Ella was born she was small, without language and understanding. We surrounded her with our love and worked to meet her every need. This deepened our relationship with her, allowing us to grow towards a deeper love for her and her with us. From the moment of her existence she felt warm, safe, loved. She learned that Mommy and Daddy were hers – totally and completely – and that she could always count on us being there every night when she went to bed and still there every morning when she woke up.
Charlotte and Jack did not have this – at least not for long. They didn’t naturally learn the roles of parents to a child. In their minds parents = caregivers = adults. We were not special in any way to them. Newborns come with a blank slate (there are exceptions such as birthing trauma and fetal exposure conditions). There is a lifetime already written on Jack and Charlotte’s book – lives that didn’t include two very white people who talk funny. Which is probably how they would have summed us up the first few weeks!
Because of these differences we will be parenting them differently then we would parent a biological child. We need to build this parent-child relationship from scratch. Feelings of love and security won’t just come naturally as it would a newborn. They feel that they have been betrayed by all the caregivers that have come before by being abandoned yet again – what makes John and I any different? It will take a lot of hard work. We have to teach them what it means to be a parent. That the love we have for them and the care that we give them is different than any other adult. We have to work to connect and even to attain eye contact. We have to treat them as younger than their given age. They are underdeveloped not just physically, but emotionally and psychologically as well. We are cocooning right now – keeping the world around them small to enable them to learn who we are and what our roles are in their lives. That we are permanent. We are using this time to build relationships without the distractions of other people and activities. Trust needs to be earned and we have to prove ourselves to them daily.
We have already had many wins and many losses since we’ve been home. We celebrate every single step forward. A few weeks ago Jack gave me a hug, which he had done before, but he cupped his hands to grip my back. That was a huge step forward and I was so joyful! It sounds so small, but if you know where we came from on our first day with him you would understand. Instead of just reaching out for a hug and allowing himself to be hugged – he hugged back. He gave. He participated. It was momentous. It was a blessed moment.
Just because we have these wins doesn’t mean that we are suddenly “normal” (I’ll save my thoughts on that phrase for another time) or that they are “cured” of their previous experiences. Our children will never be "cured" – this isn’t a disease – this is trauma. It is very possible that we will be helping them work through many things until adulthood.
For the present time we have to make sure that John and myself are the only adults meeting their needs. Please refrain from offering them food and comfort. Feel free to point out and say “Jack looks hungry,” but allow us to take it from there. Please do not disciple them, bring anything questionable to our attention and we will handle it.
Please refrain from too much affection. For family, a quick hug is fine, but please don’t pull them into your lap and allow them to cuddle up to you. While it may be of comfort to you it is actually damaging the relationship that we are building. For friends or those that are meeting them for only the first or second time, even though they may go to hug you please gently decline and instead offer a high-five or fist bump. Wave at them, smile, engage them in conversation, but no more unless you receive a green light from John or myself. We want you to know our children, we just have a few lines we ask that you do not cross.
Charlotte in particular is a very friendly girl. She loves to receive affection and to give it – to anyone. Though you may have heard of her for the past year, viewed the pictures that we shared of her, and essentially watched her grow, you are still a stranger to her. For her to feel comfortable going to complete strangers for affection and comfort is not healthy. She will want to be held by you.
isn’t about you. It’s about what’s best for her.
There may be those that are critical of our approach. We can understand that, but hope that those that are critical can respect our wishes. If anyone has any questions at all please feel free to reach out at any time – we welcome your curiosity!
-Theresa
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Special thanks goes to several adoptive parents that shared with me their views on this subject and gave me some of the words that I had been struggling to say!