After 13 years of anticipation our desire to increase our family size through international adoption is about to become reality. More recently, the past 14 months of perusing countless times every photo of and every word written about our daughter longing to touch her soft skin, to kiss her perfect cheeks, to whisper in her ear "you are our daughter forever; we will always love you." This perusing . . . is about to end. This longing . . . is about to be fulfilled.
Just typing these words brings in my soul an unexplainable mix of anticipation and anxiousness. We could'nt be happier to be bringing our girl home . . . finally home.
So many of you (our family and friends) have supported our adoption journey with your time, prayers, gifts and words of encouragement. And we are grateful beyond words for your tangible help and obvious love for us and for Alyvia.
As we near the time we will bring Alyvia home, a generous handful of you have asked what we expect or how we expect Alyvia, not quite 2 years old, will respond to her new family. And how we plan to ease her huge adjustment into her new family.
Thank you for asking.
Thank you for caring.
Parental, Sacrificial LOVE is obviously top drawer. We expect our committed love for Alyvia will be crucial to her adjustment into our family--into her family. =) We are ready to do what we need to in the way of prioritzing her needs above ours for her benefit.
ATTACHMENT is A critical concept in parenting well any child. But Attachment is likely THE critical concept to understand and actively persue in parenting well an adopted child. Attachment is basically TRUST building.
In a biological or adopted-at-birth parent/child relationship attachment is usually developed naturally. The infant cries to have its needs met and the attentive parent responds . . . quickly, lovingly, repetitively. Over time, the infant comes to trust that this person (the parent) cares. This need's meeter is something special. Our bonds of trust have forged. He is my dad or she is my mom. They have met my needs, quickly, lovingly, repetitively and I trust them. They will be there for me. I'm sure of it.
In parent/child relationships formed through adoption the bonds of attachment are usually more difficult to forge for a few reasons.
FIRST, many adopted children have never forged familial/parental bonds of trust and attachment. As a result of having multiple, often unconcerned if not even mean, caregivers, many adopted children will learn for the first time in their new families what it means to have someone who loves you quickly, lovingly, repetitively meet your needs. That is hard and those days and nights are long.
Experts in the field report negative physiological and emotional effects of not being cared for by one or two consistent loving caregivers. Sadly, these kids have learned by repetition that no one can be trusted, no one will be there for me. I am sure of it. The hope is . . . the good news is . . . most of these kids do well. With adoptive parents who love them and chase attachment with intention, though it takes time (often years), most of these kids do well. Yes, once-neglected kids can learn to trust. They can learn to love and be loved. That is great news.
The SECOND situation that makes attachment more difficult to forge in most adoptive parent/child relationships is the simple fact that often adopted children are not infants and thus they do not necessarily "need" their parents to feed them, change them and hold them in order to physically exist. Does that make sense? The duties parents of newborns perform to build attachment are less "necessary" when your adopted child is not an infant. That presents adoptive parents with a challenge: find ways to build attachment with your older adopted child. . . create opportunities to build trust . . . meet your new child's needs of feeding and changing and holding as much as possible, quickly, lovingly, repetitively. Play games, be silly, build trust. Be there. Keep your new child's world small for a while. Build trust. You be the one to meet your child's basic needs until they are certain that you are their parent. You will be there. They are sure.
Grandma doesn't change Johnie's diaper. Aunt Milly doesn't give Johnie a bath. Uncle Mert doesn't give Johnie his dinner. Grandpa doesn't comfort Johnie in his sleep. Just for a while. . . Just til Johnie is certain you are his parent. You will be there. He is sure.
Every adoptive parent has to decide what is best for his or her new child. How much to cocoon your new child and how long to circle the wagons of protection is for each individual family to decide. It certainly depends a bit on your child and on your family. But it is imperative to be alert for signs of overwhelmedness and anxiety in your newly adopted child. No matter what their background and no matter what they have just gained by joining your family, your new child JUST LOST EVERYTHING FAMILIAR A.GAIN. And adoptive parents must consider what is best for their new child. What can APs do to make this complex transition as simple as possible?
I'm on a rabbit trail, maybe I should just write a book ;)
Here is a word picture describing the confusion . . . the conflict . . . the reason for the lack of trust built deep in the souls of many adopted kids.
IMAGINE FOR A MOMENT:
You have met the person you've dreamed about
all your life. He has every quality that you desire in a spouse. You plan for
the wedding, enjoying every free moment with your fianc?e. You love his touch,
his smell, the way he looks into your eyes. For the first time in your life, you
understand what is meant by "soul mate," for this person understands you in a
way that no one else does. Your heart beats in rhythm with his. Your emotions
are intimately tied to his every joy, his every sorrow.
The wedding
comes. It is a happy celebration, but the best part is that you are finally the
wife of this wonderful man. You fall asleep that night, exhausted from the day's
events, but relaxed and joyful in the knowledge that you are next to the person
who loves you more than anyone in the world?the person who will be with you for
the rest of your life.
The next morning you wake up, nestled in your
partner's arms. You open your eyes and immediately look for his face.
But IT'S NOT HIM! You are in the arms of another man. You recoil in
horror. Who is this man? Where is your beloved?
You ask questions of the
new man, but it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn't understand you. You
search every room in the house, calling and calling for your husband. The new
guy follows you around, trying to hug you, pat you on the back,...even trying to
stroke your arm, acting like everything is okay.
But you know that
nothing is okay. Your beloved is gone. Where is he? Will he return? When? What
has happened to him?
Weeks pass. You cry and cry over the loss of your
beloved. Sometimes you ache silently, in shock over what has happened. The new
guy tries to comfort you. You appreciate his attempts, but he doesn't speak your
language-either verbally or emotionally. He doesn't seem to realize the terrible
thing that has happened...that your sweetheart is gone.
You find it
difficult to sleep. The new guy tries to comfort you at bedtime with soft words
and gentle touches, but you avoid him, preferring to sleep alone, away from him
and any intimate words or contact.
Months later, you still ache for your
beloved, but gradually you are learning to trust this new guy. He's finally
learned that you like your coffee black, not doctored up with cream and sugar.
Although you still don't understand his bedtime songs, you like the lilt of his
voice and take some comfort in it.
More time passes. One morning, you
wake up to find a full suitcase sitting next to the front door. You try to ask
him about it, but he just takes you by the hand and leads you to the car. You
drive and drive and drive. Nothing is familiar. Where are you? Where is he
taking you?
You pull up to a large building. He leads you to an elevator
and up to a room filled with people. Many are crying. Some are ecstatic with
joy. You are confused. And worried.
The man leads you over to the
corner. Another man opens his arms and sweeps you up in an embrace. He rubs your
back and kisses your cheeks, obviously thrilled to see you.
You are
anything but thrilled to see him. Who in the world is he? Where is your beloved?
You reach for the man who brought you, but he just smiles (although he seems to
be tearing up, which concerns you), pats you on the back, and puts your hand in
the hands of the new guy. The new guy picks up your suitcase and leads you to
the door. The familiar face starts openly crying, waving and waving as the
elevator doors close on you and the new guy.
The new guy drives you to
an airport and you follow him, not knowing what else to do. Sometimes you cry,
but then the new guy tries to make you smile, so you grin back, wanting to "get
along." You board a plane. The flight is long. You sleep a lot, wanting to
mentally escape from the situation.
Hours later, the plane touches down.
The new guy is very excited and leads you into the airport where dozens of
people are there to greet you. Light bulbs flash as your photo is taken again
and again. The new guy takes you to another guy who hugs you. Who is this one?
You smile at him. Then you are taken to another man who pats your back and
kisses your cheek. Then yet another fellow gives you a big hug and messes your
hair.
Finally, someone (which guy is this?) pulls you into his arms
with the biggest hug you've ever had. He kisses you all over your cheeks and
croons to you in some language you've never heard before.
He leads you
to a car and drives you to another location. Everything here looks different.
The climate is not what you're used to. The smells are strange. Nothing tastes
familiar, except for the black coffee. You wonder if someone told him that you
like your coffee black.
You find it nearly impossible to sleep.
Sometimes you lie in bed for hours, staring into the blackness, furious with
your husband for leaving you, yet aching from the loss. The new guy checks on
you. He seems concerned and tries to comfort you with soft words and a mug of
warm milk. You turn away, pretending to go to sleep.
People come to the
house. You can feel the anxiety start to bubble over as you look into the faces
of all the new people. You tightly grasp the new guy's hand. He pulls you
closer. People smile and nudge one other, marveling at how quickly you've fallen
in love. Strangers reach for you, wanting to be a part of the happiness.
Each time a man hugs you, you wonder if he will be the one to take you
away. Just in case, you keep your suitcase packed and ready. Although the man at
this house is nice and you're hanging on for dear life, you've learned from
experience that men come and go, so you just wait in expectation for the next
one to come along.
Each morning, the new guy hands you a cup of coffee
and looks at you expectantly. A couple of times the pain and anger for your
husband is so great that you lash out, sending hot coffee across the room,
causing the new guy to yelp in pain. He just looks at you, bewildered. But most
of the time you calmly take the cup. You give him a smile. And wait. And wait.
And wait.
--Written by Cynthia Hockman-Chupp, analogy courtesy of Dr.
Kali Miller
Ok WOW this 3rd post on our blog is more like a novel than a post and I really didn't even lay out our plan for Alyvia and Attachment.
Suffice to say here, in public, that John and I will be the only ones feeding and changing and holding Alyvia for the first few weeks (if not longer). Our big kids will hug her and play with her and perhaps sometimes hold her. But we are her parents and we will be here for her. We will earn her trust by quickly, lovingly repetitively meeting her needs.
If you are a regular part of our life and we are blessed to see you the first month (or longer) that Lyv is home. We welcome your kind words to Alyvia. If she's a high fiver (which she may or may not be) go there, if you want. If Alyvia is down and around and comes to you for holding, please, direct her back to us. Maybe say, "let's go find your mama. She's happy to hold you." As soon as we are comfortable that Lyv knows we are her parents and we will be here for her no matter what, then we will welcome you holding and hugging and loving on her with food and snuggles. It won't be long. We want to share her with you. We know you love her, too. And we are glad.
Does that seem odd? It would to us, if we hadn't read what feels like a bazillion books on adoption and attachment. We have read plenty of stories of families who did NOT cocoon or guard the basic caregiving duties of their newly adopted child and they really regretted it. Lots of them. But we have yet to read of any families who DID cocoon and guard the basic caregiving duties who regretted it. No one we have read was sorry they guarded and protected and kept their new child's world small. It is often hard for the parents. But it is great for their new child.
Ok. done or not. this must go to print. I've got other babies to tuck in.
The PS here is I don't want to paint with a huge brush. Not all adopted kids and/or their new families are alike. I am not an expert on any of this. I totally admit it. I only know what I have typed here from the experience of adoptive parent friends who are kind enough to share their experience with us and what we have learned in classes, articles and books. The real education is about to begin and though crazy nervous, we are certainly excited. . .
Enjoy your last few days/weeks in your beautiful Korea, Lyv. We'll be there as soon as we can.