While I tend to be more of a push your sleeves up and get busy with the work kind of girl, I have to admit that the EI evaluation shook me a little. There were more gaps in L’s development than I expected, given her ability to accompish some of the big milestones. The logical part of me knows this is to be expected, but the mama side of me was hoping she was one of the rare exceptions who could make it through a year of institutionalized care virtually unscathed.
The niggling little worry I feel about it is similar to the way I felt about L’s time in the orphanage. My brain keeps playing a tug of war:
One side of me really wants to believe that L recieved excellent care and lots of love and attention. I can scrape up all kinds of evidence — the way the nannies seemed to really know L. (they knew quirkes about her personality, likes and dislikes), that she doesn’t appear malnourished, her orphanage was fairly small, etc.
The other side makes me cringe. Imagining L’s cries with no answer, L lying alone in her crib in a big scary room full of crying babies, the assembly line of care that would be necessary even in a small orphanage. My mind tries to tiptoe around the reality of institutional care, but when I am not looking it creeps into my consciousness.
I keep those thoughts on a very short reign and thoughts of L’s abandonment and that trauma on an even shorter one. I just can’t let myself go there yet. To think of this little baby, all alone being transfered from one person to another until she winds up in an orphanage… and then losing even that stability when she was handed to us with no warning. No, I can’t think about it right now. It makes me feel ill.
Most of the time, L seems like a normal baby. And honestly, I *want* to see her as a normal baby. But sometimes, I can’t deny the cracks in that normal baby facade.
For example today, when Mr. A made the mistake of letting L see me when he had managed to keep her calmly in his arms for a half hour, then she became so hysterical with wanting me she projectile vomited all over the yard. I kept weeding the garden, willing her to be a normal baby so I could have a tiny scrap of time alone with my thoughts. Try as I might to deny it, those were no normal baby cries. As if to reinforce the depth of her reaction for me, each time she has woken up so far tonight, her sobs are not just sleepy baby cries. There is panic and fear and loss there.
It is tricky, this place where I find myself. Knowing that L has been wounded but not knowing yet just how wounded she might or might not be. We are learning to parent her and meet her needs based on shreds of information about her past and our best guess about what she might be feeling or needing. It just sucks, because sometimes I know (after the fact) that we got it wrong.
To be clear, I believe in the resiliency of most kids who are adopted out of orphanage or foster care. In the short time I have known L, I have a gut feeling she will be ok. But that doesn’t let me off the hook, I still have to try to help her fill in the gaps.
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Given the previous post and this one, I also wanted to pass along an article I found. While I don’t have any evidence that L has problems this serious, I found myself identifying with the mom in this article:
That article resonated with me, as well. My daughter has insecure attachment and sensory issues; the sensory work we have done with an OT has made a world of difference. What she writes about, how “things fell into place”, is very similar to our experience with our daughter and the OT.
When I think about that first separation–it breaks my heart. When I think about that second separation, from a world–though not perfect, *her* well-known world–to ours, it breaks my heart.
But you continue on. It’s all one can do.
I struggle with this same thing. For our bio son, we coslept, never let him cry-it-out, breastfed on demand, woke up over and over all night, played with & comforted him all day. We worked our butts off making sure he was attached, happy, etc. And it is really scary to think that our little girl in China may have been crying all night.
Though it helps to have parenting experience, I know we have so much more to do to discover and address her needs. We will do the best we can, be patient and hope for the best.
Thank you for your honesty. Your blog is essential reading for me. While we are yet to travel, the article was important reading. I think no matter how traumatic the EI was the right thing to do. We don’t have that here yet I am going to set up appts with the relevant therapists despite it – as soon as rather than later.
How is M coping with L’s demands on youl?
Wow, what a powerful post and even more powerful article.
Regards
Debbie in the UK
This was an amazing post…thank you for putting it out there. The one thing that I hardly bargained for before meeting Sofie was the daily worry, above and beyond simple “parent worries”, that she was struggling, that I was missing a sign, that I wasn’t doing enough. Coupled with the sadness over her first ten months….it is too much.
Then I realize..if it is too much for me, how is Sofie going to feel about all of it? Then the cycle of emotions starts all over again.
I read that article yesterday, and it really did resonate with me. I printed it out to have for future reference.
Take care.
This was a brave, important post A. I’m so glad you wrote it because I know it will help other parents feel brave enough to confront the scariness, too. You are AWESOME!
It really is tough. My son wasn’t in an institution, so I don’t have that experience but just considering his losses is tough. When pre-adoptive parents start talking about how they’re not going to do anything special for their adopted child because they don’t want them to feel “different”, they should read this and know that things ARE different and the way they help their child grow through it might make or break their future. Not to put any pressure on or anything.
Don’t be too hard on yourself! And I am wondering if you are conflating attachment issues with developmental issues. Obviously they are related, but they are not the same.
Your little L could be totally on track developmentally but still have attachment issues–honestly, it’d be crazy if she wasn’t still in some shock after the transition she’s been through. Prefering mom to dad (or anyone to anyone else) at this point strikes me as a pretty healthy thing, actually. L crying for you isn’t bad–it means she has found a real connection to you. And that is great.
I have one son at home and am waiting to travel for our second son. I know he’s getting good care, but I also know the trauma of what he’s experienced is more than any kid should ever have to deal with. It helps to remember that his caregivers are doing the best the can.
Thanks for the link to the article. I’m struggling with the same stuff here. Our girl’s been home for as long as she was in the orphanage -8 months – and still won’t let anyone else hold her. Recently she screams, claws at me and has begun biting me when or if I try to put her down when I’m holding her.
We visited her orphanage and it haunts me. Like as to make me crazy some days and some nights.
How do I know my daughter lay flat on her back *most* of the time during her first year of life? Upon meeting her, her head was, and still is, completely flat in the back. She also has mild sensory issues that she will probably deal with for a very long time, but thanks to OT she has learned ways to cope. At age one, she weighed only 16 pounds, could barely sit up, let alone crawl or walk. But, when she did walk at 18 months, she took off and caught up on all the gross motor skills. Speech delayed at age two, now at age 4, she’s ahead of the game when it comes to speech and cognitive skills, but a little behind when it comes to concentration, focus, things of that nature (DHA supplements have helped, though.) My heart aches for her when I think of that first year she spent at her very poor SWI – but then I try to compartmentalize it and take the “it is what it is” approach – there’s nothing I can do about it but go forward. It’s hard, though. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this and for the article – very helpful.
[...] AmFam wrote an amazing post about getting help for her youngest daughter, L, who just came home from China a little over a month ago. Go read it. She is so brave and man, she’s walking her talk. [...]
That was an excellent article and a wonderful post. Thank you for sharing.
I’ve been highly sensitive about Emily’s first 14 months today because it was exactly one year ago today that we met her for the first time. She wouldn’t let me hold her – my darling husband had that privilege the entire time we were in China because he was the one she wanted. I had tears in my eyes this morning as I watched her run off to teeter totter with a friend at school, happily yelling “bye bye mommie! see you later!”
I appreciate the article. I have learned long ago that we parents sometimes need help from the professionals. My 12 year old bio daughter has many years of OT and speech therapy under her belt and has been diagnosed with ADHD. It is amazing how similar the symtoms seem.
Thanks for sharing!
I think this post (and the linked article) really should be required reading.
This was an incredibly important post, and one that it undoubtedly took great courage to write and post. And it will undoubtedly give other parents the courage to face their concerns, too. Thank you.
What I am left wondering about is how adult adoptees might
feel about the struggles adoptive parents have and how this
might impact anger. Very good post about attachment and
delays.
This stress model of attachment is one that is also taught by Heather Forbes & Bryan Post, Phd. They have a book out called Beyond Consequences, Logic, and Control. They also do workshops and though I’m still in line waiting for my daughter I want to be as prepared as possible so I’m signed up for a workshop in my area this coming summer. Their website is http://www.BeyondConsequences.com. check it out – they are highly recommended by the social workers and therapists at my large agency.
The first chapters of the book lay down a good description of what happens in the brain when under stress, much as the article you posted did. I find the theory interesting and very intuitive. If you are severly stressed your ability to make choices in light of consequences is very diminshed if there at all. This theory teaches you to think of behavior as arising from either one of two possible emotions fear or love… Anyway, I cannot do the book/theory justice so I just recommend everyone get a copy of the book – it’s small – and read it. The book also gets you free admission into a workshop.
Thanks for your honesty in your post. I know I will struggle with that same desire to hang onto the hope that my daughter will be the one who wasn’t impacted by orphanage care, all the while knowing the real truth in my heart. Thanka fo the article like. Very helpful! Best of luck with L
Thanks so much for this. Our son was in our arms on day 3 of his life and I know that he had issues. Our first night together he wouldn’t sleep for over 7 hours and I know he was wondering who we were and why he had been moved again to his 3rd set of caretakers. It wasn’t until he was about 6 months old that I sensed a change in him and felt him begin to really trust that we would always be around.
Whenever I mention this to anybody I get the old “kids are resiliant, he doesn’t remember blah blah blah” and it is so frustrating. He experienced a loss! Of course it is going to affect him. I know that this is not the magnitude of what you are describing with L, but I understand the feeling of something being “off” in the child’s interactions. The linked article was amazing, thanks for sharing.
ha!! ..slacker.
“While I tend to be more of a push your sleeves up and get busy with the work kind of girl”
I really like this post, and the article (Dawn linked to it, too). We haven’t met our future sons yet, but I venture into that place of imagining their loss and trauma, too. It is difficult and scary. But not nearly so much for me as the reality is for them, and that is even more painful to imagine.
I think it’s great that you consulted an EI, and I’d guess that just being as aware as you are will be a wonderful resource for L. I hope I can be as brave as you are.
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Like LaMar commented previously, I know my daughter spent her infancy flat on her back, causing her head to flatten completely in the back. It’s heartbreaking, I just can’t think about too much.
However, I also know that she was loved deeply by at least one nanny, who apparently took her home with her at times and was a constancy in her life. We’ve had an extraordinarily smooth transition, which I attribute (at least in part) to those bonds she formed earlier in her life. Most days I would say we’re solidly attached, and yet I know we’re still working on it, and will be for some time to come.
Thanks for your honesty and the link. It means so much to me, still waiting.
[...] April 7th, 2007 I have been reading American Family’s blog about the Early Intervention screening they had done for their daughter who is just adopted from China a month ago. They are dealing with some delays in her development related to her living in an orphanage for the first year of her life. It is touching to witness their process of coming to terms and making a plan to address her needs. Read the article she links to in the Wounded post – it’s a kicker. [...]
[...] Thanks to American Family for the link. [...]
[...] While L showed good signs of attachment, there have been little things that would niggle at the back of my brain. I have seen certain behaviors and reactions from her that were unusual, very intensely when we first met and less often but still occasionally now. But they weren’t attachment and I didn’t have any other framework to use to identify them. [...]