The Nature of Abandonment in the Adopted Child

I've shared a blog on FB that discusses things all Adoptive Parents should know about their children, and each time I read it I get something else out of it. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lesli-johnson/adoption_b_2161590.html here it is for you, if you wish to read it.

I often wonder if Turtle hasn't developed a "fake self" with her strict attention to rules and constant need for permission to do anything. She also apologizes for every little thing that goes wrong including things she has absolutely nothing to do with. If I drop an article of clothing on the floor, she apologizes and picks it up. She has verbalized that she is worried we will "switch her out for another child" and has even suggested it to us, as if to say we would be happier with a different child. She has never been a tantrumy child and is always watching us for clues on how she should behave. She will often ask (several times a week), "Mommy, if I cheated, would you still love me?" and other questions along those lines. My answer is always "There is nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you or stop being your mother. I love you for always and I am your mommy forever." As her mother, it's heartbreaking to experience these things with her because I can only imagine what she is thinking and how frightened she must be.

How terrifying for a 4-year old child to worry almost constantly that she will "switched out" for another child. To worry to such an extent that every little thing that goes wrong must be her fault including her mother's clumsiness. I have tried to disspell some of this for her by verbal reassurance, holding her whenever she wants (and carrying her when I am able, but at 37 pounds that is sometimes not possible), sleep with her every night, and never send her away as punishment (no timeouts for us - although I have done a few time-ins where she and I leave the environment and go somewhere quiet and talk it out). Last night we played games and read for an hour and half before bed. She giggled like mad over the game (it was Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed) and brought me story after story. She craves attention and, within reason, I try to give it to her. There are times when I just want to sit quietly and not run around the house playing airplanes and helicopters. When I just sit and do my own thing she often just sits in a chair doing nothing. I encourage her to play with her toys or look through her books and she says, "But Mommy, I will be lonely." So after a few minutes of rest for me, I re-engage with her. It is my fondest hope that I can help her find enough security that she can branch off and do her own thing without needing me to be ever-present. Independence is the greatest gift we can give to our children, but it is hard fought with Turtle.

Adoption is very much a work in progress as we help our little ones grow and struggle for security anyway they can get it. Turtle's self-proclaimed favorite activity is "snuggling and talking." So, we do that every night at bedtime. Our conversations are typically not very deep, but sometimes she asks questions about her past and we talk through them as long as she wants to.

Something non-APs rarely realize is the deep deep impact abandonment has on our children and their bodies. Sometimes the reactions to things are purely visceral and the child has no idea why she is reacting that way, but we as parents have some idea and must react with compassion and speed. There are times (not frequently) when Turtle will awake at 2:00 in the morning with blood-curdling screams. Sometimes these screams happen in the evening or late afternoon. So far, it hasn't happened in public, but I'm sure it will. When I try to calm her down she doesn't want me anywhere near her and screams in my face "You never take care of me!" Something way down deep is going on there. So, I sit a few feet away from her (ready to spring up at a second's notice because she is a runner and may charge headlong down the stairs or crash into things - I often try to sit between her and the stairs whenever possible) and just talk to her. I talk and talk and talk. I am very repetitive in what I say. Typically, it's things like "I love you. I'm your mommy and I'm here to help you. I'm never going away. I will sit here all day waiting for you." Slowly she will inch her way into my lap and then will collapse against me in the snuffly tears that come from a long bout of very hurt tears. And I hold her and tell her I love her and we sit like that until she is ready to return to bed or to whatever activity we were in the middle of when this happens.

Our children's sense of security is not to be taken lightly and it is our job to make sure that we have done everything in our power to give them security and a safe place they can turn to whenever they need it. I have had many non-APs tell me that "she will be fine." Typically, it's around sleeping in her own room, or overnight stays, or when we leave a situation where she is threatening to lose it (her signs are fairly obvious most of the time - her eyes roll into the back of her head or she exhibits rare very naughty behavior; sometimes she even comes right out and says, "We need to leave now, Mommy" as she did this weekend at a very crowded shopping mall - we left). And she probably will be fine, but I'm not staking my child's well-being on probably.

Sometimes just knowing there is a safe place is enough for children to launch themselves into life. Turtle clearly needs more reassurance, and I will give it to her always. She is my number one priority and someday she will know and understand that deep down in her heart. In the meantime, I tell her every day that I love her, that she is a treasure, that I am her mommy forever and ever. And I hold her tight for as long as she will let me.

It is a privilege to be Turtle's mother and a privilege to be the one to help her through these deep-seated issues that will never entirely go away. I only hope that we can help with coping mechanism that work for her and that we can teach her how to make decisions for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones. I hope that she knows, and will always know, how much she is cherished and loved, how much we longed for her, and how very perfect she is for our family no matter how naughty or nice she is at any given moment.