Adoption day finally arrives, the day that at times seemed an eternity away. The home studies are over. The “what ifs” are behind you. Smooth sailing from here on out.
The birth mother tearfully signs the adoption papers as the nurse dresses the baby in the outfit you bought. The relatives gather at your house in anticipation of the homecoming. A meal is prepared. The mood is festive. Voices are loud and cheerful.
Cameras flash and videos roll as you carry the baby into her new home for everyone to see. “Isn’t she beautiful!” they all say one after another. Grandparents hold her first, then the aunts and uncles and cousins. The baby lies quietly in each person’s arms, seemingly oblivious to all that is happening around her. However, no one knows that beneath that crisp white dress is a tiny grieving heart … a heart that wonders where Mommy is. Her smell. The sound of her voice. Her heartbeat. Her body. Where did she go?
Such is the primal loss that your adopted baby experiences on the day she comes to live with you. Before you ever held her in your arms she lost her birth mother and all she represents. It is a crushing blow that will affect her life forever. It can be likened to a toddler having both parents wiped out in an automobile accident, except in this case there is no closure. No funeral. No acknowledged grief. How different is the baby’s emotional reality from what is happening around her. She is grieving, others are rejoicing. She is wounded, others are unaware. She needs comfort and nurturing, others are celebrating.
These are difficult words to hear, especially for adoptive parents who want nothing but the best for their children. Learning that your child experienced such a blow before adoption ever occurred can produce feelings of helplessness and keep you running away from your child’s reality rather than helping her deal with it.
The subject of adoptee loss is often uncomfortable for parents and mental health professionals alike because the depth of pain an adopted person feels can be overwhelming.
Eileen Simpson, author of Orphans, describes this fear of entering into another’s pain well: “Orphans provide no entertainment. They don’t cry, scream, shout, or behave bizarrely. Instead they observe visitors in searching silence. It was an unwillingness to look into those eyes, and to read their message, that kept people away. It was fear of being pulled by invisible strings into a web of sadness.”
Entering your adopted child’s emotional world can feel intimidating if you’re not sure how to deal with what you’ll find there. The second part of this book is dedicated to giving you practical preparation for interacting with your child’s reality effectively and for helping her grieve her hidden losses successfully. But first, let’s look more closely at the adoption experience through your child’s eyes.
A key concept to remember is that your child’s perception about adoption began not at birth, not on adoption day, but during the first nine months of life in the womb of his or her birth mother. This is where your child’s core personality was mysteriously woven together.
Listen to the amazing words of Dr. Thomas Verny and John Kelly in their book The Secret Life of the Unborn Child: “Many studies concur that the baby in the womb hears, tastes, feels and learns, and that what he thus experiences begins to shape his attitudes and expectations of himself. He can sense and react not only to large undifferentiated emotions in the mother like love and hate, but also to shaded emotions such as ambivalence and ambiguity.”
You may be saying “This is a little far-out for me!” Those were the words of Ellen, an adoptive mom, when she heard Dr. Verny say on tape that a three-day-old adopted infant is a grieving infant. But then she asked her seven-year-old son, who was adopted at three days of age, what his perceptions were of his adoption day. His response was startling: “I didn’t know who any of you were. I didn’t even know your names. I was so afraid.”
The first part of your child’s life narrative begins in utero and forms an emotional lens through which he interprets life from birth onward. While many birth mothers love the child they are carrying even though they must choose adoption, others reject the child and contribute to the pain he carries with him into life outside the womb. Because most adoptions of infants are the result of crisis pregnancies, there is the chance that the birth mother’s constant emotional distress will have a negative impact on the baby. If she chooses the way of self-protection, emotionally detaching herself from her baby, the child will sense this rejection and it may become the lens through which she views life.
Dr. Verny says, “What a woman thinks of her child makes such an important difference. Her thoughts—her love or rejection or ambivalence—begin defining and shaping his/her emotional life. What she creates are not specific traits such as extroversion or optimistic aggressiveness. These are largely adult words with adult meanings, too specific, too finely tuned to apply to the mind of a six-month-old unborn child. What is forming are broader, more deeply rooted tendencies—such as a sense of security or self-esteem.”
Rebecca, a teenage adoptee, describes her trauma: “When I was in the womb I was neglected, forgotten about, and rejected … even before I was born. My biological mother was only eighteen years old at the time, unmarried and all by herself in another country. I was born with intrauterine rejection syndrome. I wouldn’t respond to touch or emotion, and I was literally forced to drink milk. Both my adoptive parents and my brother and sister tried their best to give me love, but I still wasn’t responding to it.”
I believe that one of the most sacrificial acts of love adoptive parents can do is to give up their preconceptions and agendas about what their child’s views “should” be and be open to hear the conflicting emotions and thoughts their child often experiences.
Listen to the words of Susan Fisher, M.D., and Mary Watkins, Ph.D., adoptive mothers and the authors of the insightful and practical book Talking With Young Children About Adoption: “My wish has always been that my children will feel normal, that they will feel that all their questions about their adoption have been resolved, and that they will experience being our children as a wonderful and natural occurrence. And so, in telling the stories (adoption and birth), which of course often reveal what a painful conflict being adopted is for them—and this is their reality no matter what my wish—in effect I have to confront the split between my wish and reality. It strikes me as I write this that Teddy and Anna often confront this split. They—we all—need to stay aware and continue to try to find the words for this split as we stay in the reality that this indeed is our family.”
All right, you may be thinking. I’m with you! I am willing to set my beliefs aside, realizing my child’s perception about adoption might be much different from mine. But how do I access his world?
First, here are seven surefire ways to miss access and thus miss out on helping your child successfully resolve his hidden losses.
Avoid the topic of adoption as long as possible. Hope that your child will never ask about his or her past.
Deny the differences between your adopted child and your biological family. “You are just like us” or “You look just like your daddy” are prime examples.
Correct any expression of uncomfortable emotions about adoption by accentuating the positive: “Count your blessings” or “You’re so lucky to be adopted; you should be thankful.”
Pretend your child’s life began on adoption day. Don’t mention her birth or birth family—it will only upset her and you.
Enforce an unspoken “no talk” rule through your body language. A quivering lip or a clenched jaw speaks volumes.
Be sure to take offense if your child uses words like “real parents.” Interpret them as a rejection of you rather than an innocent expression of your child’s curiosity and unresolved grief.
Foster silent shame about your child’s need to consider searching for his birth family. Say “Why not let sleeping dogs lie?” or “Let bygones be bygones.”
In order to enter your child’s world successfully, you’ll need to several more courageous approaches instead. We’ll be talking a more about these in the second part of this book.
Acknowledge the reality of adoption, from day one if you can. When diapering your infant or cuddling your older child in your arms, use adoption language: “I’m so glad we adopted you. I’m so glad you’re ours.” This way, the subject becomes familiar instead of denied.
Initiate conversation about your child’s preadoption perceptions: “Do you ever wonder about your birth mother? Do you ever wonder if you look like her? I wonder about that sometimes.” Or, if you have adopted an older child who spent part of his life with the birth family, you might say: “What was life like for you with your birth mother/birth father? Whenever you want to share your memories with us, we are always ready to listen.”
Validate the fact that your family has been touched by adoption and has special challenges. Webster’s Dictionary’s definition of the word “validation” sheds a lot of light on what your child needs: “to substantiate, confirm, to make valid, authenticate, to give official approval to.” One adoptive mother of five says that adoption is a daily topic for her and her children, for adoption impacts their daily lives and is not just a onetime event.
Create a nonjudgmental, safe environment in which your child feels free to express any emotion, thought, or question. Learn to say to your child “It’s all right to feel as you do. Tell me more about it.”
Celebrate the differences between your adopted child and your biological family: “Your creativity brings such an added dimension to our family. How blessed we are to have you!”
Be sensitive to your child’s possible unspoken need for a tangible connection to his biological past. One birth mother I know gave her daughter a silver bank on adoption day—a reminder that she will never be forgotten. On every anniversary of their daughter’s adoption, the adoptive parents put a $1 bill in the bank, telling their daughter that the money is a reminder of the gift of life the birth mother gave to her.
As your child grows older, respect his need to consider searching for or reconnecting with his birth family someday. Verbalize your support. Even if your child joined your family because of abuse or neglect in his birth home, he may need to reconnect in some way with his first family in order to resolve past trauma. Trust your child’s instincts about what he needs while providing safety and security regardless of the outcome of his journey into his past.
The approaches you have just read may seem foreign to you. You may feel defensive or angry: “There’s no way I want to bring up my child’s birth family. That would only invite disruption and chaos in our family.” Let me clarify what I’m suggesting by differentiating the kinds of adoption that are available today.
Closed adoptions are those arranged by an intermediary, such as an attorney or adoption agency. There is no direct contact between the birth and adoptive parents. Adoption records are sealed and only non-identifying information is available to the adoptee, should he choose to request it from the court of the county in which he was born. The adoptive parents are given an amended birth certificate with their names inscribed in place of the birth parents. Everyone involved is urged by well-intentioned adoption professionals, family, or friends to “put the past behind you” and move on with life.
Semiclosed adoptions occur when there is an intermediary but also a limited flow of information between adoptive and birth parents. The birth mother makes a list of what she desires in a prospective couple, the adoptive parents write a letter describing themselves, and the birth mother makes the choice of who the parents will be. The relationship between the birth and adoptive parents may continue, but only anonymously through the intermediary. Photos may be requested by the birth mother as the child grows, but the granting of these is totally at the discretion of the adoptive parents. Gifts may be sent from the birth family to the child through the intermediary, but again, the acceptance of these is left to the adoptive parents’ discretion. The adoption records of the child remain sealed and only non-identifying information is available. There are no formal adoption statistics on the percentage of these adoptions, but many adoption professionals believe this is currently the prevalent type of adoption in the United States.
Open adoption acknowledges that both adoptive and birth parents can make a significant and vital contribution to the child’s development. This form of adoption creates and fosters an ongoing relationship between the birth and adoptive parents, for the good of the child. Their relationship often resembles a blended family, where both share the role of bringing the best life has to offer to the child, thus providing a double foundation for the adoptee to build his life upon.
Please understand that I am not proselytizing one form of adoption over another. I know how complex the issues are for every adoptive family, and open adoption is often impossible. However, I do advocate openness in adoption. By openness I mean that ALL the child’s history is shared with him in an honest and forthright manner at the appropriate time. There is no holding back of information; it is freely given when the child is ready.
One reason many adoptive parents find such openness difficult and scary is that they have bought into some of society’s negative, stereotypical notions about adoption—messages that portray birth mothers as sluts, adoptees as damaged goods, adoptive parents as second best. In addition, many adoptive families have unknowingly accepted the shame-based myth that they should be just like families formed through birth. In some circles, just the mention of adoption loss is considered a sign of ingratitude or disrespect.
The fact that adoptive families are not formed by birth is not a bad or shameful thing, nor is acknowledging this truth giving a bad rap to the institution of adoption. Maintaining that the adoptive family is just like any other family is like saying a tree formed through grafting is the same as any other tree. It simply is not! Families formed through adoption have their own set of challenges as well as their own unique beauty.
In grafting, the two parts of the plant retain their separate identities. The genes do not intermingle. Pears produced on branches grafted into quince may become larger, but they will still look and taste like pears. In adoption, the adoptee also retains a separate biological identity. A significant portion of his emotional reality is formed long before the adoptive family ever lays eyes on him. These differences need not be a threat to the adoptive parent, but instead a springboard for celebration of the adoptee’s unique identity and personhood.
Entering the secret world of your precious child takes wisdom and sensitivity. The rest of this book is dedicated to giving you the best set of tools I know to help you hear the things your child wants you to know and then respond to her in ways that will heal her broken heart.