"She's still young...she won't remember
anything from before you adopted her."
While this may be true to an extent when a child is older, what this statement fails to take into account is how influential a child's first days, months and years are to their development.
This brings me to the topic of grief…
When we bring Zoey home, she will be grieving the loss of the foster family she has known for more than a year – the majority of her life. To Zoey, we are strangers taking her away from everything familiar and the people she loves. This will not be easy and it makes me sad to think about causing her grief…
I'm glad I came across this descriptive scenario for the "grief" that adopted children naturally experience during the adoption transition. It's an eye opener and really made me understand better what children deal with during their transitions from birth mother to various foster families or institutions and finally to their forever families. Its long but worth reading…
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 fiancée. 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 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.
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 asleep.
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.
