Yesterday, J and I met with a therapist who specializes in adoption and trauma counseling in order to complete a basic psychological evaluation required for our dossier.
It was another instance of laying ourselves bare, sharing about our childhood, our relationship, our strengths and weaknesses. This is something I did not realize would be a common occurrence through these initial stages. Justin joked with the therapist that we have become pretty good at this: via our written autobiographies, home study visit, complete stranger's inquiries, etc. I suppose that is true, but it is still odd for me to reflect on the fact that many strangers now know more about me than many of my friends do.
I don't think it's necessary for me to go into the details of the actual appointment, but I did want to share two "a ha" moments that we both had during our conversation.
1. Our child will come home having experienced things that we will never quite know. This will no doubt impact her in ways not visible to others.
As the therapist put it: When you have a child with a recognizable special need, such as being in a wheelchair, there are some 'societal norms' or typical responses that people tend to display: allowing more space to wheel by, adapting activities to encompass a wheelchair, or even acknowledging with sympathy (For the latter, I am not saying this is an appropriate reaction, at all, but realistically, is sometimes a response to someone with a special need or disability.)
However, our child, upon arriving home, will essentially have her "mind in a wheelchair".
What does this mean?
Well, we know that our adopted child will likely not behave her "biological age", due to myriad factors. For example, she may not be caught up with typical developmental goals, may not react in ways expected for her "age", etc. We are learning about techniques to support her and to create a healthy environment for attachment, growth, and stability.
However, our a ha came with the therapist's note that because her "special need" (this term appears to be very encompassing in the adoption world) may not be visible to the outside world, outsiders often don't know how to react. Based on her behavior, strangers will make comments that are unnecessary, inappropriate, and not helpful. Friends and family may be confused or concerned. My gut reaction, as a mama-bear, is to snap, "well it's none of their business". And that's true. But it is reality, and all in all, there is no perfect answer or solution--it just is.
2. We are at a kind of "disadvantage", already raising a biological child.
I'm sure I cocked my head to the right and either furrowed my forehead or raised my left eyebrow when the therapist said this; a knee jerk reaction, when I'd been working so hard to be open to listening and learning, and remaining neutral.
What she meant by this is that we have come a long way in our last 21 months, raising Eisley. We have read books and sought advice. We have tried many things to support her learning and development, to connect with and engage with her, to redirect and scold her (appropriately), to praise and celebrate her. We have failed and we have succeeded, and we have learned SO MUCH. In some of this, we know what works for Eisley: generally what responses to expect from her, what might work/might not work, and can sometimes safely rely on auto-pilot to get through various parts of the day. We have become parents!
With our adopted child, the parenting we've currently mastered (let's all pause here and laugh at this phrase) will just plain not work in the same ways. I know what you're thinking: "Duh, Jordan. I have two/three/seven/twelve biological kids, and I didn't raise any of them in the exact same way, because they're just plain different people."
Yes, that is true.
However, what is also true is that parenting a child from a hard place, a child who has experienced trauma, institutionalized care, malnutrition, etc....well, parenting that child is just different, and we cannot rely on our current library of knowledge from parenting Eisley. These differences range from how you handle food, physical touch, learning, discipline, sleep...the whole gamut.
A couple of examples:
One we've heard many times already is that time outs are not a method of discipline that is successful for a child who does not have a secure attachment to their mom and dad yet.
Another example: when developing attachment, baby-wearing is very helpful, and it is a good idea to ask others to refrain from holding and carrying our child for quite some time, in order for us to establish our connection with her: to demonstrate that we are not just another one of a multitude of rotating caregivers, we are mom and dad, and we are here to stay.
The final note we took away was simply a good reminder: we can read and learn to our heart's content, but we will not know what works until she is with us, until we know her and all her unique and special traits. And we just cannot wait for her to come home.
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