You Are Doing WHAT?!

Lately I've found myself disgusted by the concept of "adoption disruption".

First of all..."disruption"? Puhlease!!!! Let's not be so PC when referring to the "giving back" of an adopted child! It is true that the "return" of an adopted child is a disruption for the child. No arguments there. As one definition shows, disruption certainly defines well what is happening FOR THE CHILD - "To throw into confusion or disorder" seems about perfect in this usage! The problem for me is that when a-parents use the term disruption they do so because it sounds prettier than "return", "give back", "let go", etc. So, for those people, let's call it what it IS! It is the removal of a child from your home because YOU can no longer cope with the downside of adoption!

Secondly..."adoption disruption"? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?! This concept angers me to the core! More often than not the children involved in disrupted adoptions are children adopted at an older age who learned quite quickly, through no fault of their own, that the only person on whom they can rely in their life is themselves! They are then thrown headfirst into a family who wanted nothing more than to have a child to call their own. When this child does not reciprocate the joy and excitement of joining his/her new family as expected, circumstances take a serious turn for the worse! Because these parents refuse to accept any responsibility for the child's reaction to their family and because they choose not to empathize with the pain and fear exhibited through the child's behavior, a-parents lean on diagnoses such as RAD, ODD, and OCD to label their anguished, scared, hurting, and confused child. And once these labels come along the child ceases to become a child, but rather a falsely advertised product!

"I wasn't told there was a history of abuse!" "I didn't know the child had been abandoned 3 times prior." "The agency failed to inform that the child showed signs of RAD and ODD." "What am I supposed to do when a child threatens to murder me in my sleep?" "I must protect my family and my marriage." On and on and on the defenses go! But you know what?! YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT A CHILD!!!! A damaged, scared, hurting child! Don't tell me not to judge you until I walk in your shoes! How about walk in your child's shoes for just 1 FREAKING day!!! How dare you put your own wants, needs, desires, and dreams above that of the child you welcomed into your home! How DARE you!!!

Adoption disruption - where's the bucket?!

A Name? Or is it a Label?

I have come to realize that there are many different names by which people choose to call the woman who gave birth to them or to the child they adopted. I have even occasionally found myself somewhat caught up in the great terminology debate. As a child and young teenager I would often refer to my natural mom as my "real" mom. Not to take anything away from my adoptive mom...it was just the easiest way for me to distinguish between the two if I ever found myself in a conversation about my adoption. I must have eventually realized how demeaning such a term could be to my adoptive parents because at some point I began referring to my natural mom as my "biological" mom. It made sense to me...I was connected to her through biology so naturally she was my biological mom. And then I began the adoption process.

In the adoption classes DH and I attended we learned that the "proper" way to refer to a natural mom is to call her a "birth" mom. Again, this sort of made sense. She gave birth to the baby (me) so it seemed perfectly acceptable and appropriate to refer to her as birth mom. As you can see in my early posts on this blog, I embraced the term birth mom, even shortening it for the sake of writing, to b-Mom.

However, I soon realized that even the term "birth" mom resulted in negating a very important person's role in the whole adoption process. By simply calling her "birth" mom I am merely giving her credit for the birth. I am taking away from the effort she put into protecting me and raising me for 9 months while in her womb. I am also taking away from the natural instinct she felt as a parent...that instinct to nurture me, love me, and then make the hardest decision she probably ever made in her life. I am taking away from the grief she felt in making such a decision due to her natural connection to ME! Thus, I chose to begin referring to this very important woman, both in relation to me and to the child I am adopting (C), as our "natural" mom. And this feels a LITTLE better to me, but not entirely right either.

You see, I have decided that the only thing any of these names do is LABEL a person! A person to whom I have a very personal and direct connection. And it seems so IMpersonal and cold to constantly refer to someone using a label. I feel the same way when speaking about people of a different race or culture. Why must a person's position always be labeled? Why can't a person just be a person? We don't refer to the Moms of children NOT placed for adoption as "natural" mom or "birth" mom or "real" mom. Just...MOM! So why must we do so when referring to a child's mother...the woman who sustained life and then bore that life into the world? It seems preposterous to me. And I refuse to participate in it any longer.

From this point forward, when referring to C's Mom I will use her NAME!!! Because you know what?! SHE HAS A NAME and in order to honor her and her memory in her daughter's life I MUST refer to her using her name! When speaking of my own "natural" Mom, since I do not have a name, I will call her my Mom. I owe her that much. She loved me enough to give ME a name and to care for me for 2 years. In doing something so simple as calling her my Mom, I at least recognize those sacrifices she made as my Mom, if even for a short time.

Learning Lessons While Avoiding Mistakes

As I come closer to ending my time as Potential a-parent and entering the realm of a-parent, I have become increasingly aware of those things that I experienced as a child that I intend to avoid as a parent. Below are a list of things my a-parents did in raising my a-brother and me that I wish to repeat and those things that I hope to do differently.

Those Things I Wish to Repeat
1) My a-parents never expected me to be like them nor did they try to turn me into something I wasn't. At a rather early age I showed a propensity for music...something which neither of my a-parents shared. Despite their own interests, my gift and love for music was fed, and watered, and given the sunlight it needed to grow. To this day it amazes me how supportive they were of my own musical endeavors when they, themselves had very little interest or talent in it.
2) My a-parents showed me the true meaning of unconditional love. They were very forgiving. They allowed for mistakes and did not hold it against me when I made them.
3) Family time was more important than money! While some families practically hoard their money, my a-parents chose to spend their money on family outings and vacations. I know there is a lot of stigma associated with a-parents and their use of money to "buy" their a-child's affection but in our case the money was always used to enhance family time, and I am thankful for that. I hear so many stories about friends whose parents never took time off work and never took a vacation together, all in the name of saving that hard-earned American dollar. Our vacations were so important to our relationships! My a-Dad was a workaholic except for those 2-3 weeks a year when he would take time off of work and devote every waking minute to his family!
4) My a-parents were God-fearing Christians who devoted their lives to following the teachings of Christ. They raised me in the church but as I grew older they allowed me to explore religion as I wanted. I very rarely attended church with them but rather chose a Youth Group at another church where I felt welcome and comfortable. They supported my decision to do this and never pushed me to be more involved in "their" church.
5) My a-parents gave me the right to choose what I wanted for my own life. They didn't push me in any specific direction when deciding on a college and a career. All they ever expected of me was that I try my hardest and do my best. They never expected perfection...just that I reach my God-given potential in all I tried.

Those Things I Hope to Do Differently
1) For whatever reason, my a-parents never TOLD me about my adoption. I was 7 years old when I overheard my a-Mom telling a postal worker that I was adopted. IMO this is too late and it is information that should never be discussed with others before sharing with the child. My daughter will know her adoption story from Day 1 and all others, including family, will only hear the details when and if SHE is ready to share it with them.
2) My a-Mom expected a certain amount of gratitude for the life she and a-Dad gave me. I strove very hard to please my a-parents but every once in awhile, in their eyes, I would swerve off the tracks. When, as a teenager, I expressed displeasure or frustration at not being able to go out with friends or having to help around the house my a-Mom would say, "Well, you could have been an orphan and be living on the streets!". Not until now did I realize how damaging such words could be, especially to an adopted child. I will never expect my daughter to show gratitude for being adopted nor will I remind her of the kind of life she might have had were it not for us bringing her into our home.
3) My a-parents were not very open in talking with me about my adoption. I only recall having one lengthy conversation about my adoption and that was when I was 16. At that time a-Mom told me that when I was ready I could have my OBC with my birthmother's name on it. The problem with such an offer is what kind of parent-pleasing 16-year old is going to ask for information about her "other mother"? I will make my daughter's adoption a part of her every day life so that she doesn't have to ask. She will know she is adopted and we will talk about it often, whether she brings it up or not. I will never force the issue but I will make it clear to her that her adoption is something that we welcome talking about and are not interested in keeping a secret.
4) My a-parents did not give much opportunity for adoption to even be discussed outside the home. While maybe not necessarily other people's business, we always had some cute way to explain our differences in appearance. It was like an inside joke...someone would make a comment about my looks taking after my a-Mom's and she and I would just look at each other and smile. So many times I wanted to say, "But she's not my 'real' mother. I'm adopted." While that might have been hurtful to my a-Mom and I might not have actually spoken those words, it would have been nice to have the freedom to share that with people and not have to lie or hide what I really thought inside. I want for my daughter to feel free to say what she wants to whoever she wants. If she wants people to know she's adopted then that is her perogative and I cannot allow my own poor self-esteem or fear of rejection to get in the way. She will have feelings that need to be expressed, whether to me or to others, and I want her to know that's OK and I want her to feel comfortable sharing her emotions with anyone she chooses.
5) My a-parents knew very little about me, my birthmom, my family, my culture, etc. On those rare instances when I would actually voice a question or concern they were not able to answer me and hopes of a conversation would diminish. I want to know as much as possible about my daughter, her mother, her foster family and home, her culture, and her country before I EVER bring her home. If not fully informed, then I want to at least have the resources available so that when she comes to me with questions I can either answer her or help her find the answers for herself. I want the opportunity to learn as much as possible about her mother so that when she is old enough and makes the decision for herself to meet her a relationship will already be in place to make that possible. I believe this is a valuable relationship for her to have and a key in helping to maintain some connection to her past and her culture...this is a relationship that I am more than willing to help foster and nurture to the best of my ability.
6) Although my a-parents never tried to "mold" me into something I wasn't, I was always treated like "their" daughter...like I belonged to them and had always belonged to them. In not talking about my adoption they made it clear that they wanted to view me as "their own". According to my a-parents, I was meant to be their daughter...it was a part of God's plan. If that were true then it was also a part of God's plan that I be neglected for 2 years and that my birthmother experience the pain of giving birth to me, raising me for 2 years, and then making the decision to relinquish me. I cannot believe that is true and I will not raise my daughter to believe this either. I intend to be honest with her and tell her the story of how she came to be a part of our family. She will know the culture and history of her country as it relates to women and single mothers. She will know that her birthmother did not make this decision so that I might have a child...she made this decision for her daughter. I was never in the equation when she made this decision, nor should I ever put myself on such a pedastal to believe I was. To express any form of gratitude toward her birthmother for giving me the honor of parenting her child would demean the real reason HER daughter is a part of MY life.

I know I'm not perfect and will sometimes stumble along the path to raising my daughter. I just hope that starting with the above list of "do's" and "don'ts" as learned from my a-parents will help me in continuing the valuable lessons they taught me while also preventing me from repeating past mistakes.

Do Looks Really Matter?

Do looks really matter to adopted children? What can parents do to ensure that their adopted children feel comfortable regardless of how their looks blend with the family? Is this even possible?

My answer to the first question is a resounding "YES"! I looked very different from my a-parents. My a-Dad had several stereotypical Native American attributes including jet black hair, brown (almost black) eyes, a large, hook-shaped nose, and red skin. My a-Mom had dark brown hair, blue eyes, very pale skin with freckles, and a petite, thin build. Both my a-parents were average height. I, on the other hand, have red hair, green eyes, light skin tone with freckles and a more medium build. I never grew to be even close to the same height as either of my a-parents. When I was little strangers would always ask me where I got my red hair. As modeled and encouraged by my a-Mom, a simple "From God" accompanied by a little tilt of the head, angelic smile, and twinkle in the eye was all that sufficed. The result? Oh, those inqisitive (er...dare I say nosey?) people would respond right on cue! They would "ooh" and "aah" as they beamed from ear to ear and would walk away cooing to one another, "Well, isn't that just the cutest thing?"! Ah...from the mouths of babes!

But you see, there arose a problem in this grand scheme of a-Mom's and mine. It was only cute for so long. Once I got to be 14, 15, 16...that little head tilt, angelic smile, blah blah blah, just didn't seem to work anymore. I had to get smarter. Time passed, and while my a-parents seemed to reach an impasse on how to answer this question without stating the obvious, I became a high school student who for a very short period in my life absolutely loved BIOLOGY. Yes, I said BIOLOGY! I most particularly found myself interested in the study of genetics. I quickly learned that although red hair is a recessive gene 2 parents with dark hair might have the red hair gene but it is dominated by the dark gene, so they themselves might not have red hair but they can produce a child with red hair. AHA!!!! There was my answer. Only, do you notice something about this new explanation? Without even realizing it I found a way to cover the fact that I was adopted. I found an explanation that would make it reasonable for any normal person to assume that my a-parents were actually my b-parents. And it wasn't until just this week that I realized that's what I was doing, or at least it certainly appears to be what I was doing! W-O-W! What a startling realization! All this time I never thought looks mattered, yet there I was, as a teenager in high school looking for a way to make it appear as if my family was "normal"! As if I was normal! So, do looks really matter to the adopted child? You bet! But how can a-parents help in making their children feel comfortable in a family that looks so different from them? Tough question...

• I believe you need to be honest with your children and share with them their adoption story from day one.
• You need to ensure that your children have pictures of their b-parents so they know the origin of their hair color, eye color, and the shape of their nose, chin, and mouth.
• You need to allow your children to ask questions about their b-parents and if you don't have the answers be honest about not knowing and together look for ways to obtain those answers.
• You should not fabricate a cute anecdote for your children to use in explaining to others why they look different from the rest of the family. Allow them to be honest with those curious enough to ask and allow them to provide as much or as little information as they wish to disclose. It is their information to do with as they choose, but you must provide them with that information in the first place. Should people ask before the child is old enough to respond you must be willing and able to share a very small part of the truth, which is that you adopted them. Nothing more...nothing less. No big hoopla about the why or where or how of the story. Just a simple..."our child is adopted".
• You must not allow your own fears and inadequacies to get in the way of what is best for your children!
• If at all possible you must allow your children to have a relationship with their b-parents. While looks might be reflected through photos all other personality traits can only be revealed through direct, personal contact.
• Finally, you must ALLOW your children to feel uncomfortable. It's not a reflection on the quality of parenting. It's allowing your child to feel what is inevitable. You cannot change your children's physical appearance and you cannot change the fact that YOU chose FOR THEM to join your family. It is what it is. They look different because they are different and no amount of wishing OR love will change that. The only thing you can do is empathize with them and be there for them when they come to you. If you are honest with your children from the begininng they will learn to trust you and they WILL come to you when they are ready! No matter how hard you try, you cannot force the relationship to happen. All you can do is nurture it and then stand back and allow it to grow freely!

No Greater Act of Love…Or So We are Led to Believe

I entitled my blog “No Greater Act of Love” because IMO the single greatest act of love that I have ever experienced was the day my b-Mom decided to place me for adoption. It’s not a moment I remember or even care to remember and I pray it’s not a moment that haunts HER, though I fear it might. I consider my relinquishment an act of love because that is what I was told, which giving them the benefit of the doubt, might also have been what my AP’s were told. Poor, neglected Irene…left alone in her crib for hours and days on end, until…poof…one day my fairy Godmother came along and whispered in my b-Mom’s ear that I deserved better. That she could not handle the responsibility, so why not give me to someone who could?

I have so many mixed emotions as I think back to that day, that moment in time. How was she feeling? Why, after 2 years, did she make this decision? What circumstances in her life changed? Was this an act of love, an act of desperation, an act of coercion? Who did she turn to for help? Was there anyplace for her to go? Why…why…why? So many questions yet who is there to answer them?

As I have gotten older and reconsidered my naïve acceptance of the “truth” I have begun to wonder whether this really was an act of love. Certainly as far as my AP’s are concerned it was…for them. They loved me the moment they set eyes on me. They couldn’t imagine loving another child as much as they loved me. And you know what…I don’t doubt this for a second. And what about for me? Well…if I take the story I was told as fact then yes…it was an act of love. I was neglected for 2 years. When my AP’s adopted me I couldn’t talk and at 2 years of age barely tipped the scale at 20 pounds. I needed a family not necessarily for love or even material things…I needed a family for SURVIVAL!!! So it was an act of love in THAT respect.

But then again…a child loves unconditionally. At 2 years of age, regardless of the hell I might have lived in I am sure that I was very emotionally attached to and in love with my b-Mom. And what did leaving her mean and do to me? Did I not talk for my first year in my AP’s home because I was in shock from the trauma of being ripped from the only home I knew? And what about my b-Mom? I now know that there is no possible way she viewed this as an act of love. No matter how much she felt I deserved better, losing me after trying desperately to care for me for 2 years must have torn her heart and soul in two! She may have only been 16 when she finally made that decision, but she was ONLY 16! Perhaps, for the first time in her life, I taught her what it was like to be loved and depended on, and in the blink of an eye, in the single beat of a heart, I was gone. Out of her life, never to be seen or heard from again.

Yes…I was loved by many people but the act of adoption itself is not one shrouded in love. It is one to be reflected on and learned from, and for many people involved, viewed as an act of pain, heartache, grief, and especially LOSS! And to think that I once considered this an “act of love!”