Loss: The (often) Unspoken Side of Adoption

How do you define love?

What about family?

Attachment?

Grief?

What about the definition of adoption?

The legal definition of adoption is creating a new, legal, permanent parent-child relationship where one didn’t previously exist.  Technically there isn’t anything wrong with that definition, but the reality of adoption is much, much more.  Like trying to define love or family, adoption can be an intangible denominator that both divides and unites; heals and hurts.

Several years ago I heard a respected colleague with a lifetime of adoption experience define adoption as:  the severing of natural bonds of love, affection and legal rights, and the formation of new ones.  It was the first time I'd heard all members of the adoption triad considered in a definition of adoption, and the first time I'd seen the unspoken reality of loss included in the same definition.

Just as divorce, medical diagnoses, disabilities, unemployment, and other losses don’t define an individual, the losses that are a part of the adoption process don’t characterize the individuals involved in adoption.  Adoption isn’t about loss, but loss is a part of adoption.  Adoptive relationships are relationships formed, in a very real sense, out of loss:  The loss of a birth mother as she places a child for adoption, the loss of the adoptee as they lose one family and gain another, and frequently the losses of adoptive parents as they face challenges of infertility or as they watch an adopted child struggle with their own losses.

Luis Mann said, “Only eyes washed by tears can see clearly.”

Grief is a natural process of adjustment that accompanies any form of loss.  Grief is a normal yet highly personal response to loss.  Unresolved in any form, these losses can lead to complications in relationships between parents and children, between siblings, and even between adoptive parents.  In adulthood, unresolved loss in the life of an adoptee can lead to repeated patterns of loss (loss of employment, friends, relationships, etc.).

Grief is not necessarily a long, involved process, and doesn't always involve complicated emotions.  In fact, when children are guided in a grieving process and emotions are validated as they surface, they are free do the work of making sense of the information that is their life.  They process difficult and sometimes conflicting realities, and when supported in their explorations, they acknowledge feelings of loss as they surface and learn to integrate it as part of their identity.

However, in cases where adoptive parents aren’t comfortable with those explorations, or the child is afraid of upsetting the family by bringing up questions about adoption, the natural grieving process can't take place, and the result becomes a life time of unresolved, complicated grief which, as stated above, can shape adult relationship and behavior patterns.

Ideas for resolving adoption loss in children:

• Allow emotions, even the uncomfortable ones:  Listen and acknowledge the child’s reality, even if it isn’t your own.  
• Don’t be afraid to go on difficult emotional journeys.  The need to make adoption into a happy experience is a parental response to trying to protect children from being hurt.  Acknowledging the loss doesn’t mean you caused it, and once acknowledged, the pain can be healed.  Imagine refusing acknowledgement to a child who comes to you with a scrape or an upset stomach.
• Don’t shy away from questions about difficult histories.  These too must be acknowledged.  Parents can present negative parts of a child’s history along with good pieces of information about heritage.  A history isn’t all bad or all good.  Information that is withheld can imply shame.  And always check for accuracy before sharing information.  If you’re not sure, share what you know and let the child know that you’re trying to find out more information, and as much a possible, include them in the search.
• Acknowledge and work through prejudices about lifestyles and choices of birth parents.  Children can sense when you have reservations about any part of their history, and will hide or deny their feelings to avoid the discomfort they feel from a parent who shows hesitation or reservation about their heritage or history.
•  Engage in activities to integrate feelings and history.  Share in making life books; celebrate milestone days; do art projects together about the child’s life; launch balloons with messages to a birth parent; write letters to give to a birth parent at a later date; create a time capsule; visit old caregivers, friends, schools, neighborhoods...  Ideas are as limited as your imagination.

Ideas for resolving adoption loss in adult adoptees:

• Identify supports in going through a grieving process.  If you acknowledge the loss, feelings of grief are sure to follow, and you’ll need to be able to identify people who can support you in that process.  Hopefully members of your adoptive family are a part of that support network, but some adoptive families can’t acknowledge that loss is reality of adoptive family living.  Don’t make it part of your journey to change what is.  Surround yourself with people who are ok with what is and begin your journey.
• No apologies about searching or not searching.  Adult adoptees who don’t search for their roots either 1)  report satisfaction with their identity, not feeling a need to search or 2) are afraid of hurting their adoptive family.  Adult adoptees who search for families identify reasons for searching as 1) desire to know genealogical roots; 2) desire to increase sense of identity; and 3) desire to establish a relationship with birth parents.  Interestingly enough, increased searching is identified with issues of unresolved grief, such as feeling incomplete, or uncertainty of life events leading up to adoption.  (Sobol, 1983)  Your history and identity are real, and deserving of acknowledgement.  If you choose to search, don’t apologize for wanting to find your roots.  Have you ever heard a biological family say their ancestry doesn’t matter?  There is an entire field devoted to searches of family ancestry.  Why would that same curiosity not extend to adoptees?
• Identify your losses.  What did you lose when you were adopted?  I asked that question once to a teen girl in therapy.  It took her a while to respond, and she was thoughtful about her response.  She knew she had a family, so she didn’t want to identify that as her loss.  After some discussion of the question, she said, “I lost the idea of a family.”  Perceived loss is just as real as actual loss.  If you were an infant when you were adopted, at some point in your life you had to realize that other people, sometime, somewhere loved you, and probably still do.  Resolving the idea of loss is important grief work.
• Seek professional resources.  If you’re embarking on this journey, fear is natural.  You'll have fears of rejection from those you have spent a lifetime loving, or fear of what you might find.  Fearing the unknown can prevent necessary journeys, and processing those fears in a professional counseling setting can move the journey forward.  Similarly, if the grief is more than you expected, or the disappointment of not finding what you were looking for has you feeling more loss, it would be helpful to seek guidance through the grief process.  Professionals remain objective, while others in your support system might have stronger opinions or feelings about your process.
• Imagine and look forward to a time when all the pieces of the puzzle finally fit.  It’s important to keep a vision in mind for the journey.  Be deliberate about the process.  Don’t give up.

Remember, adoption isn't about loss, but loss is a part of adoption.  Celebrate all that is good about adoption, but don't be afraid to step back and see the entire picture.

Read more about adoption issues here.

Information about the adult adoptees study cited above was obtained from:  (Michael P. Sobol and Jeanette Cardiff:  A Sociopsychological Investigation of Adult Adoptees' Search for Birthparents; Family Relations; Vol. 32, Number 4 (Oct. 1983) pp. 477-483.  


Background information:  This study was one of the first published in the 1980's about adult adoptees' attitudes on adoption.  Adoptees are referred to "the invisible member of the adoption triad" before the 1980's, when issues faced by adult adoptees first began to be publicly acknowledged.  Additional studies have shown that adults adopted prior to this time period report difficulty with feelings of loss and identity confusion during adulthood more frequently than their counterparts adopted after loss began to be acknowledged and discussed as a natural part of the adoption process.

Adoption Language: Why It Matters

"Are these your real parents?"

"How many real children do you have?"

"Why did you get taken away from your parents?

"How could you give up a child?"

"The agency is helping us find a baby."

Rita Laws, an adoptive parent and author, wrote the following about adoption language:

Natural child:  Any child who is not artificial
Real parent:  Any parent who is not imaginary
Your own child:  Any child who is not someone else's child
Adopted child:  A natural child, with real parents, who is all my own.

She humorously sheds light on the need for awareness of the language we use when discussing adoption.  A lot of people hear about respectful adoption language and think it's just a politically correct or sensitive way of speaking about adoption.  While that is partially true, the way in which we speak about adoption is much, much more.

Language evokes emotion.  It is both direct and subtle, intentional and accidental.  Each word and and inflection carries with it complexity from which our minds learn to decipher meaning.  From language we understand intent:  sincerity, sarcasm, uncertainty, energy, healing, and hurt.  There are a lot of theories about how we develop language and begin to communicate with our environment.  Included in most theories are the elements of imitation and emotion and the influence of environmental and social conditions.  As parents and adults, our communication with children becomes the foundation of the narratives for their lives.  Narrative psychology refers to the way in which human beings deal with experience both through the construction of narratives and listening to the narratives and stories of others.  In other words, our behaviors are connected to our stories, and our stories are formed through the use of language.  How important is it then, to make language intentional and purposeful in speaking with others about adoption?

Imagine the following narratives from the perspective of a child:

• A child hears a parent tell another adult they have "couldn't have children" so they "had to adopt," vs. a parent saying they decided to parent through adoption, or that they built or created their family through adoption.  It's the difference between a story built on a second-best choice vs. an intent to parent children or process by which a family was formed.
• A child hears an adult say to a parent who is adopting, "They're so lucky to have you," vs. a comment that "We just love your family."  One statement communicates love and support for a group of people whose bonds were formed through adoption, and one isolates the child's life as accidental rather than intentional.  (Most adoptive parents would say they're the "lucky" ones.)
• A child is adopted vs. was adopted.  It's amazing how changing one tiny word can shift the meaning of a statement from that of isolated identity (is adopted) vs. a description of the process by which a child entered a family (was adopted).
• An adult discusses a birth mother who gave up a child vs. a birth mother who placed a child through adoption.  The change in wording shifts the meaning from one of abandonment or rejection to one of a planned parenting choice about what was best for a child.

Other terms that matter when discussing adoption (the positive/respectful term is first and the negative term is second):

• Birth parent or biological parent vs. real parent or parent.
• Birth child/biological child vs. own child or real child
• My child vs. adopted child or own child
• Court terminated or rights terminated vs. child removed or child taken away
• Parenting choice vs. keeping or giving up
• Child placed through adoption vs. given up for adoption
• Child placed for adoption vs. unwanted child
• Planning to adopt vs. finding a baby or child
• Intercountry or international adoption vs. foreign adoption
• Child adopted from (country) vs. foreign child
• Citizenship status vs. alien or foreign status
• Child's rights vs. parent's rights
• Medical or special needs vs. something wrong or handicapped
• Waiting child or child vs. adoptable or available child

The list could go on and on, and as with all language choices, awareness is the key to being deliberate about communication.  In the month of adoption awareness, the message that language does matter can be spread in how we choose to talk about adoption.  Words become narratives which become life stories about human beings.

Remember:  "A good story cannot be devised.  It has to be distilled."  Raymond Chandler

Adoption Language: Why It Matters

November is national adoption month, so the topic of the month is...

Yes, adoption.  I love this subject!

Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy's and one of America's famous adoptees became an advocate for adoption later in his life.  He said, "Every child deserves a home and love.  Period."  I agree.

700,000.

The estimated number of children in foster care in the United States in 2009.  That number was down from 800,000 the previous year, and since the year 2000 has fluctuated between 500,00 and 800,000.  In the past decade, US adoptions through foster care have climbed from around 50,000 per year to an estimated 57,000 in 2009.

During that same time span, the number of international adoptions completed by American families has fluctuated between just over 12,000 to almost 23,000, with 2009 being the lowest, which is explained primarily by worsening economic conditions (international adoption is expensive).  Fewer international adoptions have also taken place over the past 5 years as there have been changes in international laws governing adoptions.

Of course the need is always greater than the resources, but kudos to adoptive families.  That's a lot of adopted children!

Over the past 15 years, I have worked with birth mothers, adoptive parents, adoptees, attorneys, legislatures, boards, committees, and even the US Attorney's office on issues relating to adoption.  I've seen every side of adoption, and as an adoptive parent have also experienced the personal side of adoption.

Home studies and background checks to make sure I'm a fit parent.


Uncertainties about how to raise a child who was loved and let go.


Questions from well-meaning strangers who are trying to make sense of the odd mix of individuals standing before them.  "Are you a daycare or a family?" a woman once asked me.


Combing lice out of my infant daughter's hair on the first night I met her.


Holding my daughter while she screamed at having to drink formula she had never tasted from a stranger who looked nothing like the person who used to feed her.


Holding another daughter as she sobbed giant tears over the loss of her family...again, and again, and again.


Hearing the words, "Is is ok if I call you mom?" from a child who needed desperately to speak those words to another human being.


Sharing birthdays, Christmases, first days of school, trick-or-treating, and school programs.


Hearing, "I love you," and watching as bonds of friendship form between siblings who were once strangers.

All part of the journey of adoption.

Every family has a story, and most stories are filled with the twists and turns of life, but adoption is a ride all it's own.  Two of our four children are biological births and two were adopted into our family.  We have also begun the process of our third adoption.  Adoption has truly become a part of our family identity.  This is our story.

Both our biological children were the result of complicated high-risk pregnancies and deliveries.  We were twice blessed and happy to be parents.  Twice we had rolled the dice and the result had been two healthy boys and a healthy mom, but knowing the risks involved, we decided two was enough.  We thanked God and looked forward to a life of joy with our boys.

A week after our youngest son was home from the NICU we got a phone call from a family that knew both my husband and I, asking us to adopt the infant daughter of an extended family member who couldn't care for her.  "We already have a baby," was our first reply.  But what if...  It would be like having twins without the pregnancy and labor. Twins?  No!  Absolutely not!  But what if we never got the chance to adopt again?  A month later, child number three joined our family.  As we expected, it was a blur for the first few years, but a very fun blur, and we couldn't imagine our lives any other way.

As our babies became preschoolers we started looking into adoption again.  We didn't want to raise our daughter as the only adopted child in a family.  Once it almost worked out, and when it didn't we were heart broken, but tried again.  And again.  Finally we said, "Maybe not now."  We needed a break from the roller coaster of emotions that is adoption, and once again we found ourselves looking at the blessings right before our eyes and feeling very thankful to be parents.  We had three amazing children.  We couldn't want anything more.

Then our lives changed again in an instant as late one August evening I found myself standing with two grandmas over the hospital bed of a niece, searching for words that didn't want to come.  How do you tell a child that she no longer has a family?

The funerals and days, weeks, and months that followed were once again a blur.  Then one day she stopped calling me Aunt Mary and started calling me mom.  And I'll never forget the first time she relaxed as I scratched her back, or the first time she fell asleep in my arms.  I remember being in awe of the resilience of a child who could let herself be held and loved after losing everything.  Love is truly an amazing gift.

Once again we found ourselves looking through the eyes of healing at the blessing of being able to share our lives with four amazing children, still feeling the need to complete a journey we had started years ago.  A journey that was our own, one that we could reclaim from a life interrupted with grief.

And so it is that we are once again on the adoption journey.  In the adoption world, it isn't over until it's over, and we know that anything could happen to change the course of our journey at any given moment.  Hopefully not.  (We're pretty excited around our house.)  And if the roller coaster dips again, we're on this ride for the duration and count ourselves blessed to share the amazing lives of children we might not have ever known had it not been for adoption.

Other posts by Mary about adoption:

Adoption and Loss

Adoption Language