Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Guilt

I had an interesting call from an adoptive mother of a 3 year old chinese girl yesterday.

First of all, I thank this woman for being so candid and open. I also thank her for her refreshing opening statement.

“I am nervous to speak with you; after all, I view you like my child. I am at the end of my rope and feel guilty for feeling this way. I hope you don’t judge me. I was scared at the notion of speaking to you, but I knew I had to do it. I knew I had to hear you out.”

Wow! What openness and vulnerability. I reacted in shock, but with understanding and thankfulness for her honesty. I have seen the emotions on parent’s faces for years, but had yet to encounter the words. Thank-you.

This honesty is laced with such guilt that I can empathize and in some way feel bad for this mother. This mother feels lost, overwhelmed and confused. She believes that her child rejects her on a minute basis, and no matter what she does or doesn’t do she feels like she is drowning. Of course this incurs a reaction from the mother, and now she lies in her pool of guilt.

It is unfortunate and unnecessary that this mother and the majority of families are repeatedly led down this dark path of international adoption with no flash lights. What I mean to say is that families are set up for overwhelming disappointment, alienation from their immediate family members from lack of support and confusion. Like many parents I speak with, they are just starting to realize what Reactive Attachment Disorder is, and typically this happens years after the adoption in a very frenzied and fed up mind. For me personally, it drives me mad with no avail to hear time and time again that adoption agencies are not educating and preparing the parents properly and accurately.

This mother poked and prauded at my childhood and my thoughts on my abandonment and adoption. She seemed confused as to why I don't speak of my adoptive parents in conjunction with my story. My adoptive parents adopted me - yes. But my adoptive parents did not choose for me in particular to be abandoned. I don't hold them accountable for my pain. I don't expect them to even understand my pain. My story and my pain is just that...mine. I can't expect my parents to heal me, it is not their story to heal. Yes, I am their child, but the line is drawn there. Yes, I am sure my adoptive parents have had many years of feeling accountable for it, but I sure hope they don't anymore. Even if they do, that is ok too. Perhaps this mother feels the need to "heal" her child and thinks since her child is so unhappy it is because of her lack of skills. Hopefully in time she will learn that no matter what she tries, does or says, it will never erase this life lasting imprint.

I told this mother a quote that I told a producer the other day “the problem with adoption to begin with is that adoption is not a natural process. Naturally, human beings should be cared for and live with their biological roots, so it’s no wonder why we can feel so lost.”

And isn’t that it in a nutshell? Yes, adoption is a good thing – and all humans should be loved and have a proper home and upbringing. But to be rejected by the body that made you is a hard feat, let alone being abandoned and institutionalized to boot. It is not a natural, nor a healthy way for any life to begin in this world. And unfortunately for most of these children, it is an imprint that never fades. This needs to be accepted, understood and respected by adoptive parents.

I was quick to try to resolve her guilt by referring her to Nancy Spoolstra of Rad Zebra http://attachment-disorder.adoptionblogs.com/

If only she knew how many other adoptive parents out there feeling the same way and how often adoptive parents are let down, then perhaps the guilt would dissipate, but then perhaps this emotion would be replaced with anger?

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Home Sweet Home...

My trip home was fairly uneventful with the exception that I almost missed my flight home. That fleeting thought enabled my sprint full of determination and I managed to check in two minutes before the cut off time.

I knew that my boys were waiting for me, and I could not tolerate knowing that they would be disappointed and then waiting for hours.

When I came through Customs, my boys were waiting and I heard their little voices cheering my name "mom" from the crowd. When our eyes engaged, my heart melted. My boys hugged me with Taylor studying my face. He then said “open your mouth”…which I did. I looked at him confused and then he replied “oh good, you don’t have vampire teeth. You haven’t changed, phew!” I too must confess, that I also stared at them to make sure that they were still the same. And that is exactly what we were both counting on after a week and a half….familiarity!

The more I thought of that, an experience in Romania conjured up my own natural desire of biological familiarity. During my trip with Mr. Ted, he took me through a small town where his family came from. Mr. Ted honestly felt like this experience was common place, and to his surprise I reacted with excitement. Honestly, to drive through family history was very exciting. It is the very thing I have craved my entire life.

I explained to Mr. Ted that my thought (or dream) of a biological background can easily be played in my mind and what a wonderful concept that is. My home is what others had chosen for me and what I adjusted to...and as an opera once said in 1832, it's home, sweet home.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Adoption Life Book

A life book is a great way to teach your child their story and show respect for their past and biological connection. It is a powerful exercise that assists with the bonding and attachment process between you and your child. It truly is such a powerful tool, that I believe all adoptees would want this as a child.

The photos in this entry are of my actual life book. I made that 4 years ago during my search. It was a very powerful project for me to do, but I suppose the underlying tone is that I did this so late in my life, and I did it alone.

A life book is something that you can start the moment you receive information on your child. Every photo, quote or piece of information is golden, and as such you should treat it that way.
I recommend that you start an official book in a scrap book format and take the time to make it colourful and visually appealing to your child. There are websites that give ideas and inspiration…try: http://www.scrapandtell.com/

Michael's Arts and Crafts also does regular in-person scrapbooking workshops.
You should document all major milestones, from your adoption paperwork, photos of significant days including meeting your child for the first time, airplane ride, entering your home for the first time and medical information. Additionally, any paper work relating to your child’s orphanage or foster care experience, or feedback or quotes from the caretakers should be documented. Keep in mind that all minute details such as how many other children were in the orphanage, or address of the foster care home is very important to document. Do not decide for your child on the details that they should know.

In the case that you have very little information relating to your child, then try to be creative and document information on your child’s country of origin or worldly facts that were happening in the time frame your child was born.

Do not trust yourself and think you will remember everything. There is no way during an emotional adoption experience that you will. So, document it clearly and accurately and find an appealing way to make this sacred life book for your child.

Once your child has been in your care for at least a few years, take on a project for your child to make their own. Photocopy the originals, facts and quotes and help your child create a life book that your child will solely possess. The importance of photocopies can not be stressed enough as your child may have moments in their life where anger can be so prominent that they will endeavor to destroy or subconsciously hide this book.

I also recommend a back up file with photocopies in case this may go missing. If you have the option of a safety deposit box, or out of home storage – you should also consider putting photocopies there. Keep in mind that there is little forgiveness from the adoptee in the case anything may go missing.

Seventh Day

The seventh day at House of Angels was particularly interesting and initially brought a different and surprising reaction to my presence.
My morning began as I entered the play room. It was quite somber, and brought a very different reaction.
I walked in and the children were colouring or sitting on the couches watching television. There was no grand reception of hello’s, yells and rambunctious moods. Instead, one the boys (who I sense to be a leader of the group) addressed me with “Leaving today?” and modeled his body like an airplane to describe my immanent departure. His body language was aloof and cool.

I replied “Yes, but later today”, and he reacted with a blank facial expression and simply walked away. It was quite the reaction to experience, but I understood immediately why they were reacting in such a fashion. So, I sucked it up and surveyed the room. A little boy was colouring in the middle of the room, so I gently sat beside him and we smiled at each other. In a few minutes, another little boy came to join, then a few girls, and another boy.

Soon after, I started receiving “love” notes from the girls and thank-you cards from the children and staff. A few other children also drew me pictures.

Not long after I found myself in the typical swarming of children melting into my legs and arms. They became very rambunctious and forgot that I was leaving. I whipped out my camera and not before long, it was complete chaos! The children were tumbling, flipping and yelling “Jana! Jana!” I tried taking as many photos as I could, but I realized I couldn’t keep up with their standards of attention and clicking capabilities.

A few hours passed and it was time for me to go. The head caretaker Vicky rounded up the children and they all hugged and kissed me. It was a very quiet goodbye, with plenty of hugs and kisses and little words.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Fifth Day

The fifth day at HOA was a regular day. I played and did English/Romanian lessons over a colouring book with the children and drew more portraits.

The girls have been very sweet and loving. They are always holding my hand, hugging me and attaching to my waist. Speaking of that, they have asked me on several occasions why I am so skinny and pinched my tummy. They said why no “fat?” and they spread their arms large. Ofcourse I didn’t translate my answer well, as they simply were left with confused faces and stares. And again, my blue eyes were the topic again. One little girl came up to me and touched my eye…she honestly believed that they were fake.

Many of the children simply sat by me, with their legs melted to mine and would simply colour or do whatever I was doing. It was very sweet to see their desire to be involved with some strange lady that acted like Santa Claus and hangs out with them all day. I can easily understand the present infatuation; however I must say that I was quite surprised by their ease of attachment.

The caretakers of the children at HOA are all quite lovely and always smiling (or chain smoking outside). One caretaker in particular Miss Vicky was quite lovely and spoke quite a bit of English. She is often seen hugging the children; drawing art or putting out a fight between the children. She also pointed out a child and told me that he was born by a mother, aged 27 and the father was 80! Wow! That is a huge age gap!

Later that day, Mr. Ted and I went for an excursion to see the major cities of Romania. We traveled north through the Carpathian Mountains and Transylvania (Central Romania) to Brasov; Sighisoara; Sibiu, Bran and Sinaia. Mr. Ted and I drove through the mountains singing to James Blunt, Maroon 5, Gorillaz, Family Kelly and Nickelback. The interesting experience of poorly sung notes and dreamy lyrics was as unique as the areas surrounding us. For miles we would drive through a beautiful lush landscape of red, yellow and orange trees on gorgeous rolling hills to suddenly fall into a remote village. Older woman and men lined the streets with their cows (and yes, I perceived them to be walking their cows since they had them leashed with a rope), although Mr. Ted laughed and thought otherwise. Most of these villages were full of small homes in disrepair all hanging on a common thread of poverty.

To learn more about Romania's child welfare and government crisis, click: http://danielaministry.org/why_romania.htm#background