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A dream becomes reality
Almost a year ago, I found out I was going to be a mom. After months of training, licensure, and so much excited anticipation, we were matched with our daughter, a healthy and beautiful 18 month old little girl. This was truly a time of celebration and thankfulness. We could not wait to meet her and begin our life as a family of three! We spent about a month visiting her, and each time it felt so surreal. I could hardly believe that this sweet little girl was going to be our daughter!
Meeting her was the realization of a dream I had held in my heart for years, and while I was a little nervous about what being a parent would mean, I was so happy for this gift of adoption. She moved in with us and things were great. My heart was so full of love for our daughter, even though I was still getting to know her. I couldn’t believe how well she was adjusting to us, our home, our friends and family, our crazy dog...and then things started to slowly fall apart.
The honeymoon is over
While she used to want hugs and cuddles, now she pushed me away. She would hit me, kick me, and bite me multiple times a day, every day. She wasn’t happy when I came home from the store or spending time with friends. While most toddlers will run towards their mom or dad for a hug when they get home, she would yell, “No, Mommy!” and either run away or try to hit me. She recoiled from the affection I offered. Despite all of that, she was still clingy, but only on her terms. If I said “no” when she was doing something wrong I would, without fail, be hit or bitten. When I changed her diaper, she would, quite relentlessly, kick me as hard as she could.
I knew about the honeymoon period in adoption, but I didn’t realize the whiplash I would feel when it ended. Not to mention that the entire time we were in training, I assumed we’d be adopting a kid who was old enough to talk and fully understand what was being said to them. But here we were with a toddler who couldn’t tell me she was sad or angry or if she missed her foster mom. I was left to guess what she felt, remembered, or understood.
When other people came over, whether it was social workers, friends, or family, she was almost a different child. She would smile, sing, dance, laugh and play with our guests. She would willingly offer them hugs or affection. Everyone told us how lucky we were to have her and how amazing it was that she was just like any other toddler...you couldn’t even tell that she had been through separation or trauma. Some people commented on how nice it was that we got to adopt a younger child who doesn’t even remember her loss.
What is wrong with me?
When people said these things, I know their aim was to be encouraging. They were excited for us! They were happy that we were so blessed with a child with “no issues.” However, those comments were like salt in my wounds. If she was such an easy child to deal with, why was I struggling so much? Why was it so hard to bond with her when others seem to instantly connect with her? Why do other people bring out the best in her while I bring out the worst? I must be the world’s worst adoptive parent. Maybe I shouldn’t have adopted at all if I can’t even handle this sweet toddler. What is wrong with me?
The worst part of it all was that I started to live for the moments I wasn’t with her, which were few and far between. I would count down the hours until she went to sleep so that I could finally be alone, away from this child who was causing me pain because of the pain she was feeling. I was so, so tired. There was the normal exhaustion of being a new parent, but it ran deeper than that. This was an exhaustion of my soul, of who I was (or at least who I thought I was).
It wasn’t like there weren’t good moments sprinkled into the bad ones. We had sweet times where she would cuddle up and read a book with me, or hug me without being asked, etc. But those moments were few and far between. Most of my day was rejection after rejection on top of the normal toddler behaviors like testing boundaries.
Through tears one day, I told Nick:
“I love her...but I don’t like her. And I hate myself for it.”
Even saying those words made me feel sick. Why couldn’t I like this little girl who, despite all of those behaviors, is incredibly deserving of all of the love I have to offer? Why was bonding with her, which felt so natural at the start, so incredibly difficult now?
Just as she physically recoiled from my affection, I found my heart recoiling from her. We were both acting out of self-preservation. I knew I needed to fight it. I did my best to maintain my calm with her and put on a good “poker face” when she constantly rejected me, but it hurt. Even though I consciously knew why she was behaving this way, it was hard to face that rejection day after day. It wears on a person, even when you know it will likely happen.
Isolation
I felt alone in these thoughts, believing that if I told anyone they would either be shocked at my callousness or just brush me off. I mean, why wasn’t I happy? This is what I wanted for so many years! I didn’t want to tell anyone how I felt because I imagined them saying:
“I told you adoption would be really difficult. I guess you are learning the hard way now.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted? You acted like you wanted to adopt so badly...so why are you complaining?”
“You made this choice, so I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”
“It’s not any different from parenting a biological kid. She’s totally normal...you just think it’s harder.”
“How could you not love spending time with such a sweet kid? What is wrong with you?”
I even felt like I couldn’t talk to other adoptive parents about it. Even though looking back I know they would have met me with grace and understanding, I was afraid they would tell me that their kids had way more problems and I should just be happy that I am not dealing with those issues.
Whenever I had a sweet moment with my daughter, I told myself these feelings weren’t a big deal or that it was just one bad day. The reality is I struggled with feeling like this on and off for months, and there seemed to be no end in sight. I thought things would never change.
You are not alone
Turns out, as alone as I felt in this experience, this is a very common situation for adoptive parents, especially adoptive moms. While I didn’t realize it at the time, I was experiencing signs of what is known as Post-Adoption Depression or Post Adoption Blues.
Post Adoption Depression Syndrome (or PADS) shares many traits with Postpartum depression, which is more widely recognized. A study from Purdue University found that 18 to 26 percent of mothers experience depressive symptoms within the first year of a child being placed in their home for adoption. Men appear to share this experience although it is not as well documented.
The symptoms of post-adoption depression are generally:
Exhaustion
Anxiety/Fear
Anger
Grief
Shame or guilt
Feelings of hopelessness
I wouldn’t say that I experienced all of these feelings, but I was in a dark place for the first few months after our placement. I didn’t even fully realize how bad it was until the last few months when I have started to come out of the fog.
Now I am really learning to enjoy my daughter each day. I find myself spending extra long putting her to bed at night because I love singing with her and reading her stories. There are moments where we belly laugh together over something silly she says or does. There are even moments where she shows me such empathy and concern if I seem even a little bit sad...it honestly brings tears to my eyes to see how our relationship is growing and turning into something beautiful.
I struggled so much with writing this post because I never want anyone to think I am ungrateful for our daughter or that I have been feigning happiness on social media or in person. She truly does bring so much joy to us, and when I post things or tell stories about her, they really are things that I absolutely love about her. Those moments were not fake, but they also didn’t tell the entire story. There were some really difficult and lonely times. There were times where I cried on my bedroom floor while journaling my heart to God, asking him to change my perspective and give me strength. It took time to get to where I am now.
Honestly, we are all still bonding as a family. We haven’t “arrived” and still have a lot of room for growth. However, when I look back at how far we have come, I’m amazed at what God has done in our family and especially at how he has used friends and family members to encourage and support us. Even when I felt alone in this journey, I wasn’t.
If you are an adoptive parent and are struggling with feelings like the ones I experienced, I want you to know this:
There is nothing wrong with you.
These feelings are normal and many adoptive parents feel them.
You are not alone. Reach out to someone you trust. You’ll be surprised at how much more gracious your friends are with you than you are with yourself.
And please feel free to reach out to me! I have walked this road (quite recently) and I understand the guilt and shame that come along with it.
Love,
Katie
PS: If you resonated with my story, check back next Thursday to for Part 2 where I discuss why post-adoption depression occurs and how you can cope with and overcome those negative feelings.