What Isaac Knows

At the court hearing that made us a forever family!

One of the most common adoption questions that I currently hear surrounds how much Isaac knows. "Does he know he is adopted?" or "Does he understand he is adopted?" or "How much does he know?"

It's a good question, and I wanted to take the opportunity to answer it in detail. I use a lot of my blog entries to send to people who are asking questions. The more I can get "written", the less times I have to write it out over and over again. So here's what Isaac, and consequently Sidge (Abigail is too young to understand) know and talk about:

Isaac knows that he adopted.

He knows that he was in Bri's belly.

He knows that his brother and sisters were in my belly.

He knows that Joan and Roy and Bri are in our family even though they don't live with us.

He knows that he has other family members he barely knows that love him without meeting him or having met him often.

He knows that he was adopted like Jesus and Moses and Kung Fu Panda and Superman.

He knows and uses the word adopted and birth mom. He will never hear those words and be shocked by them. But I imagine there will come a point that he says, "What does that exactly mean that I am adopted?" or "What does that mean that I have and adopted mom and a birth mom?" 

Isaac's birthfather is not in the picture and most likely he won't be. We imagine there will come a day that he will ask about him. We will cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, we plan to tell him, when he asks, that his birthfather loved Bri and supported her as she grew Isaac in her baby and gave him life. But then, they decided to part ways, and our families did not know each other and therefore we do not have contact with him. If Isaac decided to seek him out when he is grown, we will support him in that desire. 

Isaac understands that Bri is now married. He doesn't understand at this point that he could one day have half brothers and sisters if Bri and her new husband, Robert, have children. This is exciting for me because Bri is also adopted. This means that the only person Isaac has in his life that is genetically related to him is Bri. It will be exciting if he has other brothers and sisters genetically related to him.

We do not fear the future in regards to Isaac's adoption. We do not believe that adopted children have any bigger issues than biological children.

When a child is "troubled" and biological, no one says, "Oh, it must be because they are biologically related to their parent." Why then do they say, "Oh, it must be because they are adopted?" We very well could have one of our biological children give us much more of a headache then Isaac. We will not attribute any "issues" any of our kids may or may not have to anything other than their choices -- not their genes.

I'd love to answer more questions on this topic. If you have any, please feel free to leave them in the comments. Any kind question will be kindly answered!

Adoption commercial

A tad corny but worth sharing:

Adoption Congratulations

On February 24, our friends Kristen and Aaron welcomed their third adopted miracle: Caleb James joined their family weighing in at 5 lbs 8 oz and 19 inches long. Aaron and Kristen were friends of ours in Rochester and are two amazing people. I am so excited for them that adoption has blessed their lives yet again!

If at first you don't succeed ...

Before trying to have kids, I'd never failed at anything. Though I still believe in planning and hard work, it was something else that brought me my two beautiful boys.

By: Emily Liebert

To read this article in its entirety, click here.

My parents always told me that I could accomplish whatever I put my mind to as long as I worked hard enough. Surprisingly, I listened. So when my husband and I decided, after two years of marriage, that we were ready to have kids, it never occurred to us that we couldn't make it happen. Sure, we'd heard stories from friends and family about how it took so-and-so a year to conceive. But, obviously, that wouldn't be us.

Three months later, when I held my positive pregnancy test in the air like a badge of honor, neither my husband nor I were particularly surprised. Immediately, we told everyone in our family, and I called my OB/GYN to make what I assumed would be the first of many appointments over the next nine months. The following morning, just for kicks, I took the second test from the box. I figured a little confirmation never hurt. Only this time, the test read: NOT PREGNANT. Huh? It felt like an affront. How dare the pregnancy test speak to me that way! Clearly, it was wrong.

Only it wasn't. And that was my introduction to the "chemical pregnancy"—a term applied when a woman miscarries less than a week or so after a missed menstrual cycle. Naturally, my husband and I were discouraged, but we were not defeated. Sure enough, three months later I got pregnant for the second time. But, again, I had a chemical pregnancy. I started to get anxious.

After seven months of Clomid with no results, I decided I needed something stronger, better, something that would work. Enter the IUI. A dozen of them, to be precise. And still, NOT PREGNANT. Why was this happening to me? I was working hard at it! According to my parents, that was the secret.

In the meantime, it seemed like everyone I knew was calling me with the "exciting news" that they were expecting. Everywhere I looked—on the street, on TV, even at my own family gatherings—all I saw were women with swollen bellies. I was a failure; something I'd never been before.

We turned to IVF. Three rounds. Roughly 200 shots. The result? One more chemical pregnancy. I hit an all-time low.

A Change of Plans
That's when a flash of inspiration hit. Adoption! Why hadn't I thought of it before? My husband and I wanted to start a family. It didn't matter to us whether or not the child was genetically related. I almost felt silly for having wasted so much time and money pursuing fertility treatments and hyping myself on hormones for so long. I started to research adoption agencies that day.

In April 2009, we attended an information session at our chosen agency. Squeezing each other's hands through the various speeches, we knew our prayers were finally going to be answered. For the next four months, we worked feverishly to fill out stacks of forms, collect character letters from friends and colleagues, and complete our home visit, among the many requirements in the adoption process. We were trying to sprint, knowing full well that we were running a marathon. By August, we were finally dubbed an "approved and waiting family." They told us 15 months was the average wait time. Of course, we hoped it would be shorter, but were comforted by the fact that the result could be nothing but positive.

Two Curve Balls
Two months went by and we heard nothing from our agency. We went about our lives as usual until the morning of October 15, 2009. As I lay in bed, waiting for my husband to get out of the shower and head to work, so I could do the same, the phone rang. I picked up and heard my OB/GYN's urgent voice: "Emily, my colleague delivered a baby yesterday. The mother wants to place her child with a loving family. If you and Lewis want the opportunity to adopt him, come to the hospital right now."

Suddenly, our marathon turned into the sprint we'd unknowingly been preparing for. Four days later, we took home our son Jaxsyn. One week after that, I got pregnant the old-fashioned way with our son Hugo. Two boys, nine-and-a-half months apart. I dare you to try to make it happen!

If we've learned anything from this experience, it's that you can work hard, you can set forth a plan, and you can hope that it will produce the desired outcome. The thing is, life throws curve balls. In our case, two. The most wonderful curve balls we've ever fielded. EMILY LIEBERT is the author of Facebook Fairytales and the novel You Knew Me When. She lives with her family in Westport, Connecticut.

Home

When you finally bring your child home, yes, you will feel elated. But many new adoptive moms and dads are surprised by the complex emotions that can sit on the outskirts of that joy—from lingering sadness about infertility to echoes of failed matches to becoming a parent literally overnight.

By: Joni S. Mantell, MSW

To read this article in its entirety, click here.

You are finally home with your newly adopted child, and you're thrilled—but what are those other feelings layered behind that joy? Adoptive moms and dads may have experiences and emotions, like previous failed expectant mother matches, unequal maternity leave, or residual feelings about infertility, that can complicate the passage to parenthood.

Unlike full-blown post-adoption depression syndrome (PADS), in which overwhelming despair, panic, a sense of disconnection from your child, and sometimes even frightening feelings and thoughts occur, the sadness of post-adoption blues is more subtle, and alternates with, or exists right next to, truly positive feelings about parenting. These lighter shades of blue, which are much more common than PADS, can be just as isolating. After all, your dream has come true! Any tinge of guilt, sadness, shame, or dissatisfaction during what is supposed to be a joyous time is unexpected, and makes the blues hard to talk about.

Understanding the unique factors in adoption that complicate new-mommy or new-daddy feelings, and knowing that you're far from alone, can pave the way for self-compassion and, often, swift relief. Adoptive parents share what they experienced, and how they worked through it.

THE INFERTILITY FACTOR
Becoming a parent after infertility is profound and unique. Facing infertility involves grieving the pregnancy and birth experience, and a biological connection with your child, and these feelings may not be fully resolved by the time you adopt. If such feelings run alongside your joy in your new baby, understand that being human involves having more than one feeling at a time. As a mom from New York City says, "I felt some incompleteness because I didn't go through the birthing process. At the same time, I feel deep gratitude for a successful adoption. I think it's a part of coming full circle to acknowledge both the joy and unexpected sadness that comes."

In fact, newer grief models recognize that grief is not linear; it does not need to reach a point of punctuation. It naturally ebbs and flows over the life cycle as different aspects of the loss emerge. We've also learned that acknowledging these feelings is the best way to get them to diminish over time.

Residual feelings take time to heal. "I was so shaken up by the failure of our medical treatments that I could not stop thinking about what might go wrong during the adoption process," says Alison J., of Princeton, New Jersey. "Now I want to enjoy our daughter, but I feel anxious and worried about her." Deborah, of Lambertville, New Jersey, says, "After we brought our son home, I would cry easily for no identifiable reason. It was as if I had tapped into a deep pool of emotions. Everything I'd held in for so long was released."

Losses may be triggered. Michele P., of Cranbury, New Jersey, says she was "stunned when the finality of our never having a biological child hit me at exactly the same time our baby came home."

FEELING UNACKNOWLEDGED
Our society's welcoming rituals, and even its policies, can be very different for adoptive mothers, compared to those typically enjoyed by pregnant mothers.

Different treatment from friends and family. Women may feel slighted when friends and family don't throw the same kind of baby shower they threw for their sister-in-law. Frequently, it is the preadoptive parents who ask their loved ones to hold off on throwing a shower or buying baby gifts, due to their trepidation. All the same, embarking on parenting without the typical fanfare can sting.

Some parents find that others amplify their anxiety about the adoption. A New York City mom says, "When I told my mom that we made contact with a birth mom, were making an adoption plan, and preparing for the arrival of our son, she said, ‘Don't buy too much.' It felt like she had said, ‘Don't get your hopes up, it might not happen,' and that hurt." A pregnant friend said something similar to Nancy, in Skillman, New Jersey. She replied: "What you are saying to me is akin to my saying to you, ‘Yeah, but you don't need to buy that because you might have a miscarriage.' I just want to feel like a normal mom. If the adoption fails, it won't be the drawer of baby clothes that upsets me."

Samantha, a mother from Princeton, New Jersey, concedes, "Almost nothing people did or said would have been ‘right.' I felt like a failure after losing so many pregnancies, and I was very sensitive to reactions that might be construed—by my paranoid mind—as judging me or my child to be ‘less than.'"

Maternity leave is a hot button. The leave women receive from their employers is commonly called "maternity leave," but technically it is "short-term disability leave" and is tied to pregnancy and birth. Some adoptive parents are fortunate enough to work for a company that offers adoption leave. Parents who work for a large enough company are entitled to FMLA (Family and Medical Leave Act) time, but that is unpaid leave. Parents who don't qualify for FMLA generally have to cobble together vacation time and sick or personal days, and still rarely get the same amount of time off to bond that mothers who gave birth are routinely granted.

A mother from New York City says: "Our lives were turned upside down in a span of three weeks—virtually no time to prepare a nursery, hire a reliable baby nurse, or even pick out paint colors. I found it blisteringly ironic that this was not considered a ‘disability' worthy of paid time off, while time off after giving birth was a given. Sure, we were ‘allowed' to take time off, but it was not paid and it was not equal."

AWARENESS OF THE "OTHER" PARENTS
When you become a parent through adoption, you know that there is another parent, or set of parents, who might have been parenting save for a different set of circumstances. Whether or not they know these other parents, many adoptive moms and dads feel guilty or sad on their behalf, or feel obligated to them.

Empathy for birth parents is common. "It was a terrible feeling to want to be a mother and, at the same time, feel that I had hurt another woman who might have been a wonderful mother to the same child under different circumstances," one new mom says.

Julia, from New Jersey, recalls, "When my daughter's birth father described his hopes for her and talked about how much he loved her, tears streamed down my face. When the day came for them to terminate their parental rights, my daughter's birth mom signed her first name, broke down, wept, and then pulled herself together to sign her last name. I can't tell this story without crying myself. Taking custody of my daughter after this, I felt incredibly relieved, but I did not feel happy for myself. My heart was grieving for her birth mother and birth father." After she was home with her child, says Julia, she "began to enjoy my child and feel happy that I finally was a mom."

A mother from New York City says, "My son's birth mother had become like a sister to me during our match. When he was born, I could not hold him or go to him—I only cared that his birth mother was OK. Upon returning home, I was extremely sad. I was able to care for my son, but I had to admit that I was not in love with him. I felt like I was raising someone else's child and, even worse, that I had taken a child from his mother." She reports that she fell in love with her son after a few months. It helped to "understand that his birth mother needed us to raise him as much as we wanted to be parents."

Wanting to please your child's birth parents. Diane, from Bordentown, New Jersey, reports that her child's birth mother visited at the hotel several times. "I felt so anxious that she feel confident that I was the right choice to raise her baby."

Kevin O., from Brooklyn, says, "Our son's birth mother went into labor two months pre-term, so he spent five weeks in the NICU, during which time I was never alone with my son. When I got home, I found that, for a long time, I felt ‘watched.' The twist was that, at home, I felt monitored by the imaginary eyes of his birth mother, too. I wondered if other adoptive parents felt the ‘auditioning' continue after winning the part. Our first post-adopt visit with our son's birth mother released me of a lot of these feelings. I could see that she trusted me to raise him well."

Sorting through etiquette and setting boundaries. Carla, of central New Jersey, felt confused and upset when her son's birth mother referred to herself as his mom and said, "Call me if he is sick." She was finally able to discuss this with her directly, saying, "I am just getting used to being his mom and I feel uncomfortable when you call yourself his mom, too. Can you use a different term?" The conversation was difficult, but it paved the way for an honest relationship going forward.


INSTA-PARENTHOOD
In adoption, it's common for the timeline to be unclear, or even nonexistent. When the process and match happen sooner than expected, the "insta-parents" feel a great flood of emotions while having to deal with practicalities—scrambling to get everything they need, prepare a nursery, learn about baby care, and find a pediatrician, all with a baby in tow.

Feeling guilty about being unprepared. "Our adoption came with very little notice," says a mother from New Jersey. "While this was nothing short of miraculous and thrilling, it was tinged with anxiety and apprehension over how ill-prepared we were to actually bring the baby home."

Deliberately avoiding preparation. Even with an expectant mother's due date or a timeline for receiving a referral, it is not uncommon for pre-adoptive parents to protect themselves with an "if-this-works-out" mindset and to avoid taking any concrete steps, or even thinking of themselves as parents-to-be. Jane R., of Somerset, New Jersey, says, "While we had many months to prepare, we didn't. When we got the call, it was like an emergency situation. Friends and family had to buy everything for us while we flew off to meet our new son."

Diving right in with an older child. Feelings about insta-parenthood can be ramped up when the child you bring home is not a baby but a busy little boy or girl. "Jumping right into being an older parent of a mobile and very energetic toddler who wanted to experience everything was tough," says a mom from Skillman, New Jersey. "Carrying her, chasing her, dealing with bedtime was exhausting—I lost 10 pounds the first month she was home!" She notes that her feelings were compounded by a sense of isolation: "Before we adopted I worked, and had a lot of personal freedom. It helped to talk to other mom friends who had adopted, and find that they had the same feelings."



ECHOES OF FAILED MATCHES
False starts in adoption can range from never hearing back from an expectant mother after a first phone call to being at the baby's birth, and perhaps taking custody for a short time, before learning that the adoption will not go through. Experiences like these take time to get over, and can haunt a subsequent match.

• Recovering from dashed dreams. "I got so excited the first time we were matched," recalls Madeline S., of Hopewell, New Jersey. "I started to picture myself as a mommy, strolling with my baby in the park, dressing her. Then, when the expectant mother changed her mind, I had to abruptly switch off these feelings."

• Difficulty trusting in the match. It's common for parents to try to shut off their emotions after a failed match with an expectant mother, or to become hyper-vigilant. This kind of behavior, whether conscious or not, can turn the next match into an anxious or confusing time. A mother from central New Jersey says, "We thought our first match was perfect. I would say to people, ‘You never know with adoption if it will work out,' but, in truth, I was not preparing myself for that reality." When she later adopted her daughter, she "could not stop reading something into every little thing, as if it were a sign as to whether this would be our baby or not. I was exhausted before we brought her home."

• Letting go of what might have been. When one mom met her son, she carried sad memories about the disrupted adoption of a newborn she had held and cared for at the hospital a year earlier. "I felt guilty loving my son while this little girl was present in my heart," she says. "Knowing of this girl's difficult family situation, I also felt guilty about not being able to parent her. My husband and I kept checking Facebook to see if the family was OK." Her son is now four, and she says, "Honestly, it took a few years to stop thinking about the little girl. Then I felt guilty for not thinking about her, all the while adoring my son and feeling some disloyalty to him for such thoughts."

MOURNING THE "FIRSTS" YOU MISSED
When you adopt a child beyond the newborn stage, you were not there for his first cries, first tooth, first steps, and so on. Although it's natural to think about the firsts you missed, many parents choose to focus on (and document!) the firsts they're a part of: first ice cream, first day of school, first bike ride, first time driving a car.

Feeling sadness on your child's behalf. "My four-year-old, whom we adopted at 11 months, often asks to see her baby pictures and hear stories ‘about when I was a baby,'" says a mother from New Jersey. "Although I feel sad that the stories I can tell her are about when she was one year old, not an infant, she's OK with that. She loves any stories about herself at younger ages."

A mom from Skillman, New Jersey, says, "I do regret that we missed two-and-a-half years of my daughter's life. I feel bad that I didn't get to rock her and hold her as a baby and go through all those milestones…but mostly I feel sad for my daughter that she missed out on having that with us, too."

Wanting to make up for the time you missed. A New Jersey mom says, "I often think about what I missed in my daughter's first year. It's as if she's grown up too fast, because I didn't have that time with her. I babied her a bit, probably to compensate, and gave her a bottle until she was two. So, I clearly had sadness about not having experienced my daughter's infancy."

DIFFERENT LEVELS OF "MEMBERSHIP"
Your baby is here, and you're ready to join "the club," but some adoptive parents feel that they don't quite fit in when they begin socializing in this new context. If possible, befriending other adoptive parents can help.

Joining the world of families can be hard. "Feeling like I ‘belonged,' that I was a mother, was one of the hardest things for me," says a mother in Brooklyn, who adopted domestically. "There are babies everywhere where I live—something like 52 born in November just in my immediate neighborhood. I left the first gathering of November moms in tears. I couldn't relate to any of the conversation—labor stories, breastfeeding challenges, and so on."

Deciding who and how much to tell about the adoption.  Moms are quick to ask each other, "Where was he born? How was the delivery?" This kind of small talk brings unexpected social pressure to some new adoptive parents. Rachel, from New York, says, "I just want to blend in and be like all the other moms. Answering, ‘Texas' and ‘the delivery was fine' may be factually correct, but it feels disingenuous."

Laura, of Princeton, New Jersey, shares the adoption of her son "with everyone, to pre-empt the questions and reduce my awkwardness." Erin, of Robbinsville, New Jersey, strikes a middle ground, stating, "I decide whom I want to be intimate friends with and who is just a playground friend for now. I trust my instincts about whom to open up to." Parents who adopted transracially, of course, may not get to decide whether to share or not.


FEELING MOER CENTERED, AT LAST
Time to adjust, compassion for yourself, loving your child, busying yourself with the everyday demands of parenting, and connecting with other adoptive parents will get you through the blues.

It helps to keep expectations realistic. Some parents-after-infertility feel guilty when they are tired or overwhelmed by caring for their babies or miss having a quiet dinner, as if they are not entitled to normal new-parent feelings, since they went to such great lengths to adopt their child. Being a parent is exhausting at times. Period. You are entitled to grouse about 3 a.m. feedings.

Your family's happiness can feel like pressure. "All my friends and family were SO excited and happy for us to finally have our daughter home. When they asked, ‘How is everything going?' no one wanted to hear about the screaming at night, the grief my daughter had, the adjustment and difficulty of the bonding process. They wanted to hear, ‘Everything is great!'" says one mom who adopted a toddler. "Even during the trip to Korea, when I was playing with my daughter on day two in the hotel, my stepmom said, ‘Oh, look, she's already bonded to you.' Of course, nothing could have been further from the truth, and I knew that, yet everyone around me seemed to expect immediate bonding and over-the-moon happiness."

Complicated feelings are understandable because, as one mom from New York City says, "Your world changes completely, sometimes literally overnight. You know that you love this little being looking up at you, and you think, 'I wish I had had you,' because the bond is so real. Making peace with the fact that you did not give birth to this wonder can be a tough pill to swallow. With time and perspective, you realize that you DID give birth—you gave birth to the idea and to the process that landed this little miracle in your arms, a labor of love that often takes much longer than nine months. And all that ‘I wish it had been me' turns into ‘it is me. It is me every day.'"

Beyond Happy

When you finally bring your child home, yes, you will feel elated. But many new adoptive moms and dads are surprised by the complex emotions that can sit on the outskirts of that joy—from lingering sadness about infertility to echoes of failed matches to becoming a parent literally overnight.

By: Joni S. Mantell, MSW

To read this article in its entirety, click here.

You are finally home with your newly adopted child, and you're thrilled—but what are those other feelings layered behind that joy? Adoptive moms and dads may have experiences and emotions, like previous failed expectant mother matches, unequal maternity leave, or residual feelings about infertility, that can complicate the passage to parenthood.

Unlike full-blown post-adoption depression syndrome (PADS), in which overwhelming despair, panic, a sense of disconnection from your child, and sometimes even frightening feelings and thoughts occur, the sadness of post-adoption blues is more subtle, and alternates with, or exists right next to, truly positive feelings about parenting. These lighter shades of blue, which are much more common than PADS, can be just as isolating. After all, your dream has come true! Any tinge of guilt, sadness, shame, or dissatisfaction during what is supposed to be a joyous time is unexpected, and makes the blues hard to talk about.

Understanding the unique factors in adoption that complicate new-mommy or new-daddy feelings, and knowing that you're far from alone, can pave the way for self-compassion and, often, swift relief. Adoptive parents share what they experienced, and how they worked through it.

THE INFERTILITY FACTOR
Becoming a parent after infertility is profound and unique. Facing infertility involves grieving the pregnancy and birth experience, and a biological connection with your child, and these feelings may not be fully resolved by the time you adopt. If such feelings run alongside your joy in your new baby, understand that being human involves having more than one feeling at a time. As a mom from New York City says, "I felt some incompleteness because I didn't go through the birthing process. At the same time, I feel deep gratitude for a successful adoption. I think it's a part of coming full circle to acknowledge both the joy and unexpected sadness that comes."

In fact, newer grief models recognize that grief is not linear; it does not need to reach a point of punctuation. It naturally ebbs and flows over the life cycle as different aspects of the loss emerge. We've also learned that acknowledging these feelings is the best way to get them to diminish over time.

Residual feelings take time to heal. "I was so shaken up by the failure of our medical treatments that I could not stop thinking about what might go wrong during the adoption process," says Alison J., of Princeton, New Jersey. "Now I want to enjoy our daughter, but I feel anxious and worried about her." Deborah, of Lambertville, New Jersey, says, "After we brought our son home, I would cry easily for no identifiable reason. It was as if I had tapped into a deep pool of emotions. Everything I'd held in for so long was released."

Losses may be triggered. Michele P., of Cranbury, New Jersey, says she was "stunned when the finality of our never having a biological child hit me at exactly the same time our baby came home."

FEELING UNACKNOWLEDGED
Our society's welcoming rituals, and even its policies, can be very different for adoptive mothers, compared to those typically enjoyed by pregnant mothers.

Different treatment from friends and family. Women may feel slighted when friends and family don't throw the same kind of baby shower they threw for their sister-in-law. Frequently, it is the preadoptive parents who ask their loved ones to hold off on throwing a shower or buying baby gifts, due to their trepidation. All the same, embarking on parenting without the typical fanfare can sting.

Some parents find that others amplify their anxiety about the adoption. A New York City mom says, "When I told my mom that we made contact with a birth mom, were making an adoption plan, and preparing for the arrival of our son, she said, ‘Don't buy too much.' It felt like she had said, ‘Don't get your hopes up, it might not happen,' and that hurt." A pregnant friend said something similar to Nancy, in Skillman, New Jersey. She replied: "What you are saying to me is akin to my saying to you, ‘Yeah, but you don't need to buy that because you might have a miscarriage.' I just want to feel like a normal mom. If the adoption fails, it won't be the drawer of baby clothes that upsets me."

Samantha, a mother from Princeton, New Jersey, concedes, "Almost nothing people did or said would have been ‘right.' I felt like a failure after losing so many pregnancies, and I was very sensitive to reactions that might be construed—by my paranoid mind—as judging me or my child to be ‘less than.'"

Maternity leave is a hot button. The leave women receive from their employers is commonly called "maternity leave," but technically it is "short-term disability leave" and is tied to pregnancy and birth. Some adoptive parents are fortunate enough to work for a company that offers adoption leave. Parents who work for a large enough company are entitled to FMLA (Family and Medical Leave Act) time, but that is unpaid leave. Parents who don't qualify for FMLA generally have to cobble together vacation time and sick or personal days, and still rarely get the same amount of time off to bond that mothers who gave birth are routinely granted.

A mother from New York City says: "Our lives were turned upside down in a span of three weeks—virtually no time to prepare a nursery, hire a reliable baby nurse, or even pick out paint colors. I found it blisteringly ironic that this was not considered a ‘disability' worthy of paid time off, while time off after giving birth was a given. Sure, we were ‘allowed' to take time off, but it was not paid and it was not equal."

AWARENESS OF THE "OTHER" PARENTS
When you become a parent through adoption, you know that there is another parent, or set of parents, who might have been parenting save for a different set of circumstances. Whether or not they know these other parents, many adoptive moms and dads feel guilty or sad on their behalf, or feel obligated to them.

Empathy for birth parents is common. "It was a terrible feeling to want to be a mother and, at the same time, feel that I had hurt another woman who might have been a wonderful mother to the same child under different circumstances," one new mom says.

Julia, from New Jersey, recalls, "When my daughter's birth father described his hopes for her and talked about how much he loved her, tears streamed down my face. When the day came for them to terminate their parental rights, my daughter's birth mom signed her first name, broke down, wept, and then pulled herself together to sign her last name. I can't tell this story without crying myself. Taking custody of my daughter after this, I felt incredibly relieved, but I did not feel happy for myself. My heart was grieving for her birth mother and birth father." After she was home with her child, says Julia, she "began to enjoy my child and feel happy that I finally was a mom."

A mother from New York City says, "My son's birth mother had become like a sister to me during our match. When he was born, I could not hold him or go to him—I only cared that his birth mother was OK. Upon returning home, I was extremely sad. I was able to care for my son, but I had to admit that I was not in love with him. I felt like I was raising someone else's child and, even worse, that I had taken a child from his mother." She reports that she fell in love with her son after a few months. It helped to "understand that his birth mother needed us to raise him as much as we wanted to be parents."

Wanting to please your child's birth parents. Diane, from Bordentown, New Jersey, reports that her child's birth mother visited at the hotel several times. "I felt so anxious that she feel confident that I was the right choice to raise her baby."

Kevin O., from Brooklyn, says, "Our son's birth mother went into labor two months pre-term, so he spent five weeks in the NICU, during which time I was never alone with my son. When I got home, I found that, for a long time, I felt ‘watched.' The twist was that, at home, I felt monitored by the imaginary eyes of his birth mother, too. I wondered if other adoptive parents felt the ‘auditioning' continue after winning the part. Our first post-adopt visit with our son's birth mother released me of a lot of these feelings. I could see that she trusted me to raise him well."

Sorting through etiquette and setting boundaries. Carla, of central New Jersey, felt confused and upset when her son's birth mother referred to herself as his mom and said, "Call me if he is sick." She was finally able to discuss this with her directly, saying, "I am just getting used to being his mom and I feel uncomfortable when you call yourself his mom, too. Can you use a different term?" The conversation was difficult, but it paved the way for an honest relationship going forward.


INSTA-PARENTHOOD
In adoption, it's common for the timeline to be unclear, or even nonexistent. When the process and match happen sooner than expected, the "insta-parents" feel a great flood of emotions while having to deal with practicalities—scrambling to get everything they need, prepare a nursery, learn about baby care, and find a pediatrician, all with a baby in tow.

Feeling guilty about being unprepared. "Our adoption came with very little notice," says a mother from New Jersey. "While this was nothing short of miraculous and thrilling, it was tinged with anxiety and apprehension over how ill-prepared we were to actually bring the baby home."

Deliberately avoiding preparation. Even with an expectant mother's due date or a timeline for receiving a referral, it is not uncommon for pre-adoptive parents to protect themselves with an "if-this-works-out" mindset and to avoid taking any concrete steps, or even thinking of themselves as parents-to-be. Jane R., of Somerset, New Jersey, says, "While we had many months to prepare, we didn't. When we got the call, it was like an emergency situation. Friends and family had to buy everything for us while we flew off to meet our new son."

Diving right in with an older child. Feelings about insta-parenthood can be ramped up when the child you bring home is not a baby but a busy little boy or girl. "Jumping right into being an older parent of a mobile and very energetic toddler who wanted to experience everything was tough," says a mom from Skillman, New Jersey. "Carrying her, chasing her, dealing with bedtime was exhausting—I lost 10 pounds the first month she was home!" She notes that her feelings were compounded by a sense of isolation: "Before we adopted I worked, and had a lot of personal freedom. It helped to talk to other mom friends who had adopted, and find that they had the same feelings."



ECHOES OF FAILED MATCHES
False starts in adoption can range from never hearing back from an expectant mother after a first phone call to being at the baby's birth, and perhaps taking custody for a short time, before learning that the adoption will not go through. Experiences like these take time to get over, and can haunt a subsequent match.

• Recovering from dashed dreams. "I got so excited the first time we were matched," recalls Madeline S., of Hopewell, New Jersey. "I started to picture myself as a mommy, strolling with my baby in the park, dressing her. Then, when the expectant mother changed her mind, I had to abruptly switch off these feelings."

• Difficulty trusting in the match. It's common for parents to try to shut off their emotions after a failed match with an expectant mother, or to become hyper-vigilant. This kind of behavior, whether conscious or not, can turn the next match into an anxious or confusing time. A mother from central New Jersey says, "We thought our first match was perfect. I would say to people, ‘You never know with adoption if it will work out,' but, in truth, I was not preparing myself for that reality." When she later adopted her daughter, she "could not stop reading something into every little thing, as if it were a sign as to whether this would be our baby or not. I was exhausted before we brought her home."

• Letting go of what might have been. When one mom met her son, she carried sad memories about the disrupted adoption of a newborn she had held and cared for at the hospital a year earlier. "I felt guilty loving my son while this little girl was present in my heart," she says. "Knowing of this girl's difficult family situation, I also felt guilty about not being able to parent her. My husband and I kept checking Facebook to see if the family was OK." Her son is now four, and she says, "Honestly, it took a few years to stop thinking about the little girl. Then I felt guilty for not thinking about her, all the while adoring my son and feeling some disloyalty to him for such thoughts."

MOURNING THE "FIRSTS" YOU MISSED
When you adopt a child beyond the newborn stage, you were not there for his first cries, first tooth, first steps, and so on. Although it's natural to think about the firsts you missed, many parents choose to focus on (and document!) the firsts they're a part of: first ice cream, first day of school, first bike ride, first time driving a car.

Feeling sadness on your child's behalf. "My four-year-old, whom we adopted at 11 months, often asks to see her baby pictures and hear stories ‘about when I was a baby,'" says a mother from New Jersey. "Although I feel sad that the stories I can tell her are about when she was one year old, not an infant, she's OK with that. She loves any stories about herself at younger ages."

A mom from Skillman, New Jersey, says, "I do regret that we missed two-and-a-half years of my daughter's life. I feel bad that I didn't get to rock her and hold her as a baby and go through all those milestones…but mostly I feel sad for my daughter that she missed out on having that with us, too."

Wanting to make up for the time you missed. A New Jersey mom says, "I often think about what I missed in my daughter's first year. It's as if she's grown up too fast, because I didn't have that time with her. I babied her a bit, probably to compensate, and gave her a bottle until she was two. So, I clearly had sadness about not having experienced my daughter's infancy."

DIFFERENT LEVELS OF "MEMBERSHIP"
Your baby is here, and you're ready to join "the club," but some adoptive parents feel that they don't quite fit in when they begin socializing in this new context. If possible, befriending other adoptive parents can help.

Joining the world of families can be hard. "Feeling like I ‘belonged,' that I was a mother, was one of the hardest things for me," says a mother in Brooklyn, who adopted domestically. "There are babies everywhere where I live—something like 52 born in November just in my immediate neighborhood. I left the first gathering of November moms in tears. I couldn't relate to any of the conversation—labor stories, breastfeeding challenges, and so on."

Deciding who and how much to tell about the adoption.  Moms are quick to ask each other, "Where was he born? How was the delivery?" This kind of small talk brings unexpected social pressure to some new adoptive parents. Rachel, from New York, says, "I just want to blend in and be like all the other moms. Answering, ‘Texas' and ‘the delivery was fine' may be factually correct, but it feels disingenuous."

Laura, of Princeton, New Jersey, shares the adoption of her son "with everyone, to pre-empt the questions and reduce my awkwardness." Erin, of Robbinsville, New Jersey, strikes a middle ground, stating, "I decide whom I want to be intimate friends with and who is just a playground friend for now. I trust my instincts about whom to open up to." Parents who adopted transracially, of course, may not get to decide whether to share or not.


FEELING MOER CENTERED, AT LAST
Time to adjust, compassion for yourself, loving your child, busying yourself with the everyday demands of parenting, and connecting with other adoptive parents will get you through the blues.

It helps to keep expectations realistic. Some parents-after-infertility feel guilty when they are tired or overwhelmed by caring for their babies or miss having a quiet dinner, as if they are not entitled to normal new-parent feelings, since they went to such great lengths to adopt their child. Being a parent is exhausting at times. Period. You are entitled to grouse about 3 a.m. feedings.

Your family's happiness can feel like pressure. "All my friends and family were SO excited and happy for us to finally have our daughter home. When they asked, ‘How is everything going?' no one wanted to hear about the screaming at night, the grief my daughter had, the adjustment and difficulty of the bonding process. They wanted to hear, ‘Everything is great!'" says one mom who adopted a toddler. "Even during the trip to Korea, when I was playing with my daughter on day two in the hotel, my stepmom said, ‘Oh, look, she's already bonded to you.' Of course, nothing could have been further from the truth, and I knew that, yet everyone around me seemed to expect immediate bonding and over-the-moon happiness."

Complicated feelings are understandable because, as one mom from New York City says, "Your world changes completely, sometimes literally overnight. You know that you love this little being looking up at you, and you think, 'I wish I had had you,' because the bond is so real. Making peace with the fact that you did not give birth to this wonder can be a tough pill to swallow. With time and perspective, you realize that you DID give birth—you gave birth to the idea and to the process that landed this little miracle in your arms, a labor of love that often takes much longer than nine months. And all that ‘I wish it had been me' turns into ‘it is me. It is me every day.'"

Maintaining Privacy, Not Secrecy

"Children who have been adopted have the right to privacy. Privacy is not the same as secrecy. A secret is something that is kept from someone to whom the information pertains. Privacy involves sharing personal information only with people who have a relevant need to know."

By: Lois Melina

To read this article in its entirety, please click here.

Lesley was casually piling potato salad on her picnic plate at a family reunion when one of her nieces looked at her and knowingly said, “You’re not Austin’s real mother, are you?”

Caught off guard, Lesley answered, “No, we adopted Austin when he was a baby. His real mother was very young and didn’t have a husband, so she asked us to be Austin’s parents.” She then spent the rest of the time at the family gathering mentally rehashing the conversation, imagining how she could have handled the situation better.

She’d certainly encountered adults who had asked questions like, “What do you know about Austin’s real parents?” She’d been ready with a response that subtly communicated both preferred language and her desire for privacy: “You mean his birthparents? We have quite a bit of information actually.”

But somehow a question coming from a child seemed to require more information and a greater tolerance for using language that wasn’t “politically correct.” After all, Lesley felt more responsibility to educate her young niece than her acquaintances about adoption. With Lesley’s input, perhaps this niece would grow up with a more understanding attitude toward adoption than was common among the general public.

Later, though, Lesley imagined next year’s family reunion, when this niece might come up to her son and say, knowingly: “I know your real mother gave you away because she wasn’t married.”

Lesley’s situation was not unique. Just as parents use a friend’s or family member’s pregnancy to teach their children about reproduction, parents who adopt often find that their experience becomes the example by which their friends and family members teach their children about adoption.
Consequently, many adoptive parents find themselves facing Lesley’s dilemma: How can they help children who weren’t adopted develop a positive understanding of adoption without violating their child’s privacy?

Only Those Who Need to Know
Children who have been adopted have the right to privacy. Privacy is not the same as secrecy. A secret is something that is kept from someone to whom the information pertains. Privacy involves sharing personal information only with people who have a relevant need to know.

For example, if a child has a birthmother who was an alcoholic, that fact is important information for the child to have at an appropriate time. In addition to being a significant detail about his life, he needs to know that there may be a family tendency to addiction. It is also important information to give the child’s physician or even a school counselor, so that they can be aware of signs of fetal alcohol syndrome or fetal alcohol effect, while maintaining professional confidence. It isn’t information that needs to be shared with other people, however, including close family members.

The adoptee might choose to share that information, but it is his choice—not the choice of his adoptive parents. Once information is given away, it’s out—no one can control how it spreads.

Children do not always know what the boundaries are regarding personal information. They sometimes ask questions that adults would be reluctant to ask. So it’s important that adoptive parents be prepared to draw the line. When the neighbor’s child asks, “Why did Cassie’s real mom and dad give her away?” parents can say, “That’s something you’ll have to ask Cassie when she’s older.” Without getting into a philosophical discussion or conveying any sense of shame, such a response tells the child that the information belongs to Cassie.

Provide General Information About Adoption
Parents can turn an intrusive question into an opportunity for learning simply by sidestepping the personal aspect of the inquiry and providing general information. After letting the inquiring child know that they aren’t going to provide specific details about the reason their child was placed for adoption, parents can add, “But I can tell you some of the reasons some birthparents might make that decision.”

In providing details to children outside the family, parents should remember to tailor their discussion to the child’s age and developmental stage.

Children can’t understand adoption until they can understand reproduction—somewhere around the age of four, five, or six. Children younger than that probably will not understand the connection between pregnancy and birth. They will probably not question why Uncle Peter is going to Texas to adopt a child, while their mommy went to the hospital when their little brother joined the family.

Like children who were adopted, children in the middle childhood years—ages seven to eleven—will have more curiosity about why the child was placed for adoption, and will evaluate whether having been adopted is a difference that matters, or one that doesn’t. They also will be curious about the “mysterious” people who gave birth to the child and then placed her for adoption.

As children reach the teen years, their questions are likely to reflect their own newfound ability to put themselves in another person’s shoes and imagine what it might be like to have been adopted—or to relinquish a child for adoption.

Talking points
Marsha and Trent tackled this issue even before their child arrived. As soon as they knew they would be traveling to Guatemala to adopt their daughter, they wrote a letter to their family members and good friends. They explained why they intended to keep personal details of their child’s story confidential.

They also gave a brief explanation of the questions children were likely to ask at different developmental stages, and requested that they use terms like “birthmother” instead of “real mother.”

They also addressed some common errors made when talking about adoption. Among their suggestions:

• Explain that adoption is one of many ways of forming families. Families also are formed through the birth of a child, marriage to a person with children, or with medical assistance such as donor insemination or in vitro fertilization. None of these ways of forming families is better than another. Children who were adopted are not to be pitied, but neither are they to be described as ‘special.’
• Children may wonder if they were adopted, although they may not verbalize this question. Parents may want to address this question directly or ask the child to tell them which of these ways he joined his family.
• Adoption should not be compared to the acquisition of a pet. Although pets are often loved and included in family portraits, they are not permanent members of the family in the truest sense, and the comparison trivializes the adoption of children.
• It is difficult for children to comprehend the complex problems that face birthparents who make an adoption plan. In explaining the decision, parents should emphasize that it was the birthparents’ problem—not a result of the child’s behavior or temperament. Parents can say the birthparents would have been unable to care for any child born to them at that time in their lives.
• Children shouldn’t be told that birthparents make an adoption plan because they love their child so much. While adults understand that relinquishing a child means the birthparents made a huge sacrifice and put their child’s needs above their own emotions, children can’t make that connection. They are such concrete thinkers that they may conclude that parents who love their children give them away. That can cause them to wonder whether they will be given away, too. They can be told that the birthparents probably think about their children a lot and care about them forever.
• Children can be told that sometimes children who are adopted know their birthparents and sometimes they don’t. If the family has an open adoption, children should be clued in to the identities of the child’s birthrelatives when other members of the family are told about them.

Parents can remember that even though information can never be taken back, it’s always possible to go back and correct or add to it. Lesley might give her niece a call and say, “You know, I forgot to mention we like to call Austin’s real mother and father his birthmother and birthfather. We don’t want him to be confused because to him, we’re pretty real.”