Adoption Truth

Recently I referenced blog post called "After the Airport", which talks about what adoptions like ours can really look like in the long haul- after all the balloons and flowers, happy-as-can-be family photos, and all the other hoopla that surrounds coming home with our new child. As much as it seems like our story has a wonderful, happy ending- after all, we made it home with our long-dreamed-of little girl after years of waiting- in actuality, the story was just beginning once we hit U.S. soil and stepped foot back into our homes and our lives.

I was recently introduced to a blog called "A Safe Place to Share" where other adoptive couples like us are sharing their reality, instead of the just the positive, rosy picture that is typically talked about after adoptions. This has been so helpful to me, to know that I am not alone in struggling at times. Because I want to be transparent about both the ups and the downs of international/older child/special needs adoption, here is a little bit of our own truth.

I have had a lot of people tell me lately that they think it is so wonderful what we are doing for Flor, or some variation of the same. But in all honesty, there have been many a day where I have wondered if we are actually doing any good at all. My response to those heaping praise on us is typically that they would be surprised if they know what happens behind closed doors. That happy family in all the cute pictures we post? Yeah, that happens sometimes. But, the reality is that more days than not include crying, screaming, loss of patience time and time again, and a lot of trying again.

Just in the last week or two have I felt that things are really starting to improve. We have gotten into a routine. We understand Flor a little better. She understands us a little better. We are making forward progress. But before that? It seemed like a far off, nearly unattainable place when the good days would outweigh the bad. I would sometimes get glimpses of such sweetness, joy unlike I have never experience before, but those experiences were the exception, not the rule. Even still, since moving forward into a 'better place' (for now), there are still times that are just rough. No other way to describe them.

Our "Honeymoon Period" with Flor lasted maybe a week, and then times started to get hard. It didn't help that we were in Ecuador and not in our home, our own routine, etc. Where we should have spent that time just focusing on her and bonding (and there was some of that), I don't feel like we gave her everything she needed there because we were too caught up in the stress of the process and of getting home. I kept telling myself, "Things will get better (bonding wise) when we get home because of x,y, z." I do feel like bonding has come more easily and more readily in the 7 weeks that we have been home, but part of that is probably the time factor, too.

Some other adoptive parents report having a hard time loving their adopted children, but in all honesty, I feel like love is not the issue for us. It may be splitting hairs to some of you, but I feel that love and bonding signify different things. These definitions came from Merriam Webster's Dictionary:

Love: (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties 

Bonding:
(1): the formation of a close relationship (as between a mother and child or between a person and an animal) especially through frequent or constant association 

I have felt a strong sense of affection (love) for Flor for six years. I care about her deeply and I feel similar feelings for her that I do for Jace and for Hallie (I won't say the "same" because even my feelings for Jace and Hallie differ-- I love each of my children separately and for different reasons. The feelings are intense, personal, and deeper than anything I have ever felt, yet feel different for each. Does that even make sense? One of those things that is difficult to put into words).


However, when it comes to bonding- the last part of the definition hits home- bonding comes especially through frequent or constant association. We haven't had frequent or constant association with Flor for six years. An occasional picture and a short blurb about how she is doing do not suffice or work as a substitute for constant, hour after hour, day after day, week after week caring for, playing with, and yes, even disciplining of her. I have said multiple times that one major difficulty for us in getting to know Flor is that she has seven full years of history that we can never possibly know or begin to understand. Our newborn babies come to us and we have a say in how they are raised, how they are disciplined, and how they are loved. We never got that say with Flor, until now. But, she already has a whole history and background. It is not like we are starting from scratch. I love this thought from a blog post I read recently:


Have you ever tried un-parenting and parenting at the same time?
It’s ummmm……fun?
Nope.
Pretty sure that’s not the word I am looking for.
(From HERE:  www.wearegraftedin.blogspot.com)

Seven years is a long time to form habits, behaviors, etc. that we don't understand. And we have A LOT to "unparent" with Flor. This is the main source of my frustration. I wish I knew why she bites herself when she is upset. I wish I knew what had happened the day she started to rock herself to sleep. I wish I had been there instead, to help her to not have the need to develop that self-soothing behavior (this isn't just a little rocking- sometimes she has to hit her head against the wall in order to fall asleep. Less now luckily, but still not unheard of). I wish I knew why she screams and cries for no apparent reason sometimes. I wish I knew why she pulls hair out of the blue. And on and on. But the fact is: we weren't there. We haven't been there. We weren't in her life until four months ago. 7 years without us, four months with us= she barely knows us. She still resists soothing quite often when she is upset. We can't go back and turn back time, so instead we get to pick up the pieces and hopefully help her attach and bond now, now that she is seven years old.

We are also Flor's fourth home, which may mean she is unsure of how long she will be here. Maybe in her mind this isn't permanent. Just a solution until the next place comes a long. I don't want her to feel that way, but lack the words and the ability to express that to her in a way that she will understand.


I think the thing that has been most painful during this process are the truths that I have learned about myself. I have generally considered myself to be a pretty good person, but let me tell you- I have never felt so exposed, so full of weakness in my entire life. I have a lack of patience that I don't even understand when it comes to Flor's negative behaviors. I think it is because I don't understand their source, the whys, and I don't often know how to help Flor.  And not to mention that Flor can't communicate what is going on in her mind with us and we in turn can't communicate to her the things that we want and need in way that she understands. It's a guessing game all the time. I feel like I have been and am being tested, stretched, and taught more than I ever have in my life.

 A scripture comes to mind, though, that is always a comfort to me:


"And if men come unto me I will show unto them their ^aweakness. I ^bgive unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my ^cgrace is sufficient for all men that ^dhumble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make ^eweak things become strong unto them." (Ether 12:27)

I look forward to the day when my weaknesses become strong.

As I said, things seem to be steadily improving, and I hope that the worst of the storm is over. I feel like our best friend in this situation is time. Time will help heal Flor's wounds. Time has already deepened the bond and love we feel for Flor and will continue to do so. But, in addition to that, Devin and I have talked often and have set specific and personal goals for our relationships with Flor. We want her to know that we love her and that we care about her, no matter what. These goals include increasing our patience during the negative behaviors, overloading her with praise for positive behaviors, time spent daily with just her, as well as daily physical contact with her from each of us. She may cry during the time (which she does sometimes when being held, hugged, etc.), but eventually we hope that she will comfortable with this and understand that being a part of a family includes consistent physical affection. It's odd that she seeks out affection from outsiders, strangers, people she doesn't see often, but shies away from it from us a lot. I have some thoughts and theories on this too, but that could be a whole other blog post, so we won't go into that.

I know there is a reason for all things and I can never doubt that bringing Flor into our family was the right thing for us. I have had the whisperings of the Spirit confirm that to me time after time. As such, I have been able to avoid any thoughts of not having her with us or of dreaming of the "perfect" days of the past. I truthfully would not change things. I would go back and do it again. I would do it again for another child if I felt it was right for us. But- that doesn't mean it has been easy.  I know, too, that the struggles that we are enduring will be for our good and will be for the betterment of our family. I am grateful for what I have already learned about myself from Flor and look forward (maybe...be careful what you wish for, right?!) to the future things she will teach me.

I hope this dose of reality may help other families out there who are thinking of, pursuing, or in the middle of an adoption like ours. It's a whole new ball game--full of many ups, downs, and in betweens. I wish I had been a little more prepared (but how can you be, really) for what to expect with Flor. I was too caught up in the joy of bringing her home finally to really sit and ponder how things might be once we got here. I had some ideas, but the reality has been harder and much more exposing of my own weaknesses than I had ever imagined.