I do a LOT of reading and listening and watching about foster care and adoption. I follow blogs, I listen to podcasts and books, and when I spend time on TikTok, I’m just as likely to be watching videos posted by foster parents or adoptees as I am to be watching silly cat videos. I can’t help it. I want ALL THE INFORMATION.
As someone who is fairly likely to be adopting a kid in the not-too-distant future, the most important thing I can do is listen to adoptees about their experiences. What did their adoptive parents do right? What did they do wrong? How do they feel about being adopted? My goal in listening to these voices is two-fold: I want to know all the possible reactions that I can so I’m not surprised by anything my potential adoptee might feel some day, and I want to do as much as I possibly can to make my potential adoptee’s experience as good as it can possibly be.
Adoption = Trauma
To do my best by my kid, I need to be aware of the bad parts of adoption: for my kid, that’s the trauma of removal from family of origin and being old enough to remember how terrible that day was, removal from a unique culture, loss of first language, and loss of connectedness with the first family. All of those things = trauma for my beloved kid. And no matter how good my adoptive family is and no matter how hard we try, we can’t erase that trauma.
What we can do, though, is acknowledge the child’s pain when it comes up, and sit with her in it, and support her in every way we can. We can provide therapy and understanding as she comes to understand her journey in ever changing ways. And we can foster the best connection with the first family that we can.
We can also provide resources as options for the child. A summer camp for transracial adoptees? It’s something she might some days be interested in, so when she’s the right age we will present that as an option for her. We of course won’t force her to do it, but we can give her that opportunity if she wants it. We can also seek out other adoptees, preferably transracial, in our own community and offer opportunities for connection. We can read age appropriate books about unconventional families with her. And we can make it clear that we are always always always willing to talk about whatever she wants to talk about related to her family and adoption.
Most importantly – and we already do this – we can hold her tight when she’s sad about missing her first family, and just sit with her in her pain. We don’t try to distract her or cheer her up, we just sit with her and hug her if she wants hugs.
Adoption also = something to celebrate
All the heaviness of what I wrote above is only half the equation though. We DO want to celebrate that this child is a permanent part of our family if the day comes. We want her to know she’s very much wanted and loved and adored and doted on. We want her to know we are so damn glad she’s our kid.
I loathe the “Gotcha Day” tradition that some adoptive families have of throwing a big party every year on the adoption anniversary. It seems to be purely celebration of “acquiring” a child, and not an acknowledgement that that acquisition came at a heavy price.
That said, we do want an adoption to be part celebration, as well as an acknowledgement of all the hard parts. We want the adoption day itself to be a one-time event that is significant. I spent an hour talking to an adoptee who is a coach for adoptive families today, and she suggested letting the child decide what she wants her adoption day to be like. Does she want friends/family over? I already know who she’d say she wants here. Does she want a cake? Does she want it to be an event? Or does she want it to be immediate family only and a quiet day? Our kid is young but already has strong opinions about, well, everything. So we will let her decide what she wants her adoption day to look like if it happens. And it will be a one-time event in her life, not an annual celebration of her “Gotcha Day.”
The best thing I can think to do right now is keep listening, keep learning, and keep seeking out adoptee voices that are writing/speaking/making videos/doing podcasts/coaching or whatever other way they’re choosing to communicate. And I can keep letting my kid feel whatever it is that she feels and acknowledge those feelings and listen to her and hug her tight when she’s sad and celebrate when she’s happy.
