My hope is that once in a while another adoptive parent, or adoptive parent-to-be stumbles across this blog and finds some insightful commentary, some experience that I'm able to pass along or — at the very least — a chuckle at my bumbling efforts in the crazy world of parenting.
One of the most challenging aspects of being an adoptive parent is that your child has a history that you had no part in. The months and years that your child spent in the care of someone else. Without you. One could, for example, drive oneself crazy wondering if their child had been picked up and comforted when they fell down. If he or she went to bed hungry. If the birth mother or father of your child bent down and kissed them good-bye before they walked away? did they whisper secret confessions? promises? a family name? loving words as tears fell down their faces? Oh yes, one might spend moments in the wee night hours, gazing into the faces of their sleeping children, wondering these things. Such is the job of an adoptive parent.
My son has had a remarkable easy transition into our family. So much so, that I've worried he hasn't grieved, or processed the enormous changes that his 2 yr. old little mind had to work through. In all I've read and heard, I've taken to heart that the grieving process is vital for healthy development. That grieving at a young age will be easier than trying to process it at an older age. I've also read that many adoptive kids have real fears of being "taken back" to an orphanage, of loosing their forever families. So, how do I best support my 2 and a half year old, beautiful, happy, steady-as-a-rock son who wakes up in the middle of the night and asks "I want A'yi, Mommy, I miss A'yi" and "I go back Mom, I go back to Pink Castle?" (the nickname of Lu's orphanage) as he looks at me with his questioning deep brown eyes. Lu remembers. He was very lucky to get extremely loving, mostly one on one care from a kind young woman who we had the good fortune to meet. He remembers what she gave him and he misses her. He remembers crying the day she put him in my arms because when we talk about our time in China he says to me "I cry and cry and cry Mommy". Small tears trickle down his cheeks but he's quiet. My heart breaks. I hug him. This is grief. I tell him it's okay to feel sad. I tell him I love A'yi too. I take his little hand in mine at 3:00 a.m. and we go downstairs, get a plate of homemade cookies and glasses of milk and he sits in my lap as we eat them, a smile spreading across his face.
I don't know that my words or actions help Lu, I'm not sure I know what I'm doing ... He's on his 3rd night of waking up and asking for A'yi. Her picture is by his bed and he can hold it, I'm always right there and I listen as he asks again "I see A'yi Mom? Tomorrow? Tomorrow Mom?".
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Our family will soon grow from 3 to 4 with the addition of our son Lu, born on June 7, 2006.
The Chaputs
- Mel, Pete and Clara
- We're excited and proud to be adding to our family with a second adoption from China. We'll update our progress and add photos over the next few months as we work toward bringing Lu home.
1 comment:
God Bless You.
Its so hard when our kids struggle. Heck I struggle with the thought and emotions around their history. My oldest daughter is struggling with it now too. We talk about it whenever she needs to but I worry about my younger daughter. She doesn't want to talk about. But, thank you for your blog today. It reminds me to keep trying with both girls because they need to know they are still loved by me as well as their families in China.
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