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Birth Parents in International Adoption

Sat, 02 Jun 2007 09:01:19 GMT

Right from the beginning, I want to admit two important facts that have been part of my belief system for a very long time:

I've never wanted to find my own birth family. I was domestically adopted at birth in the USA, and I have had very minor interest regarding my birth family. Nor have I had any identity issues that would lead me on a search for a 'missing piece' of myself.
Twelve years ago, my husband and I chose international adoption for the specific reason that "birthparents will not be part of the picture." I had no intention of sharing my child with some unknown family. I wanted things to be straight forward and absent of anyone or anything that complicated my or my future child's life.�

Being adopted myself has afforded many benefits to parenting adopted children that I had not anticipated. I understand their basic curiosities about their origins. I feel no insecurity when they talk about their birth parents, because I know that at their ages I also wondered if I was really a princess who had been mistakenly 'lost', and wondered if my first family thought of me on my birthday. My advantage also allows me to anticipate questions they might be hesitant to ask and bring those inquiries into our daily lives and conversations.

Although I have a lack of desire to search for my own birth family, I have made it abundantly and frequently clear that this is simply my own point of view. That there are many adoptees who have a strong desire to know more and understand the details surrounding their birth/adoption/life-story.

What I did not expect or anticipate, however, is how my own five children who came to our family through adoption would feel freedoms of expression and emotion that I never had. My open attitude has allowed our girls, who came to us at all ages (and are now ages 8-17 years), to explore and claim their rights to know and understand their heritage. They want whatever answers are available, and feel it is their absolute right to know every moment of their own history, as is the right of a child born into a family.

As a parent, these issues aren't a smooth or easy road to walk. My daughter from Korea will have the option to search for her birth family and a very good chance to find them. My four daughters from China have extremely limited options. Going back to their orphanages they might receive information about where they were found, or a copy of a note left by a birthparent when they were abandoned. While we as parents cherish these little details, stepping back we must realize how tiny and insignificant they will be to our teenage and adult children. They offer no real answers, only more confusion and questions. These little scraps of information do not answer the essential questions my daughters and thousands of other adoptees are asking:

Who are my birthparents?
Why, specific to me, (and not in general i.e.: poverty, single parenthood, government policies) was I abandoned/placed for adoption?
Do I have birth-siblings?
Did my birth family want me?
What do my birthparents look like?
What would my life be like if they had kept me?
Did they love me?
Do they ever think of me?
Do they miss me?

I can re-assure my children over and over again, but I also now understand this: Knowing what I know now, my attitude has completely changed. If I could choose, I would have some type of contact with the birthparents of my children. I would try to bridge any social or cultural gaps between us and I would absolutely welcome them into our lives.

Not as co-parents..no. That would not be impossible. But as the birth-parents, the first parents of the beautiful children I love with every piece of my heart and soul.

When my children were younger, it was easy to tell them, and have them accept, that they would meet their birth parents in heaven. They were at peace with this idea and I felt I was doing a good job. Now that I have 2 pre-teens and 2 teenagers, I know this assurance is simply not enough. Regardless of whether or not the answers can be found for all of their questions, the issues MUST be explored.

Less than a week ago, I returned from a birth-land trip with my daughter, Jennifer WuQin, who was adopted at age nine-years from China. She has now graduated from high school and we took this trip as her graduation gift. Her primary goal? Contact the orphanage and see her file and gain any and all photos of herself as a child before we adopted her. Through the hard work of Lotus Travel, she was able to visit her orphanage and many caretakers, but her requests for more information were denied.

Did we feel cheated or disappointed? YES. We did. While I fully respect the adoption process of this country, I also feel that there was a file, sitting just a few floors above us in the orphanage, that probably contained very minor information. But those tiny details would have given her some hope that she could someday find the answers to the puzzle of her life.

My daughter Jennifer is the most amazing person. I love her more than could ever be described. Will this incident truly affect her life? I think not. But this trip helped me understand even better what I now know to be true: International adoptees are organizing themselves and demanding information that is equivalent to our open-adoption system in the USA. Nothing any adoptive parent attempts to do will deter this. These young people want answers and will not stop at the first closed door. My daughter fully intends to find another road to the answers she seeks.

As adoptive parents we have only three choices:

Tell our children their birthparents loved them but could not parent them due to circumstances in their lives (yes, this may be very true).

Open ourselves to the reality that our children absolutely will be able to find their birthparents (it's a reality: genetic testing in the next 20 years will match our kids to their birthparents through-out the world) and support our children.
Vainly try to brainwash our children into believing that their birthparents do not matter and/or are bad people.

I know that last option does not go down well. But the truth is, I receive articles all the time that are warm and loving in the telling of the adoption story, but mention the birthparents as alcoholic, street-people, unmarried mothers of many, etc..facts? Maybe. But honestly..these are human conditions that yes, may have led to the placement of the child in an orphanage, but do the fully describe the parent/human that is your child's link to life before adoption? And is this the primary information you want your child to believe? The honest truth that I have seen played out again and again in adoptees is this:

When parents emphasize that a birthparent had specific problems, the child will often work very hard to have those exact same problems. It's part of forming identity. The best option for an adoptive parent is to love their child fully, while also supporting their child's journey of identity, culture/racial issues and knowledge of self. This helps a child seek out the positive and the truth, and at the same time view the adoptive parent as a truly supportive, loving parent who is not threatened or fear-filled. Because the truth is, adoptive parents need to accept that we are the parents of our children, and we do not lose that identity or our children's love simply because they wish to explore their history, culture or origins.

I've spent the bulk of this article dispelling the 2^nd fact I presented in the beginning. It would be dishonest to end it here. I have made the decision to carefully wade into finding my original family. My birth-family.

I was adopted in 1968, and my parents (my adoptive parents/real parents, who raised me) were pretty forward-thinking. They truly raised me to have a great respect for the choice my birth-mother made. And yet, there is this tinge of guilt, this shame I feel for wanting to do this. I know my parents do not understand, and do not truly support this search, though they are trying to appear supportive.so I continue to put off papers I could file or roads I could take, because of the guilt I feel.

I admit this now because it is the honest thing to do. Five months ago, just after my 39^th birthday, I suffered a minor heart attack. 16 years ago, I had my first run-in with skin cancer. For these reasons, I would like to have some type of contact that would allow me to have access to my birth family's medical records. And I have met a brick wall. Even today, in the USA, my records are impossible to 'unseal'. They exist, but I cannot reach them. I might as well be back in China two weeks ago, with my daughter asking for records that are there, but being denied access. And that needs to change.

As an adoptee I want only this single message to get through to adoptive parents:

We love you. You are our parents. If you fill us with guilt because of your insecurities or fears, it does not stop our needs or longing, but only makes us deny or hate ourselves for wanting some simple facts or knowledge. And eventually our anger turns inward to ourselves, our outwards to you. Love us enough to be secure and know we love you also, as we can love no one else.

As and adoptive mom I want my children to know this:

I am fallible. I won't always hear your need, or know your longing, but I am trying. I am secure in your love for me and I want you to explore every avenue for your life.

I'm not afraid anymore. Is that strange to say at my age? Probably as strange as saying that I am glad I had a heart attack. It freed me from any guilt that I may have had. I love my parents and accept them as well. But I also know and do not fear that I losing their love. I have to follow my own path.

By loving my parents and my children, I have become a bridge. An adoptee and an adoptive mom. I need to find my answers and I respect that my children also need to find their own answers, in their own time. My desire is for everyone to get past the fear and embrace what I tell my children daily:

Love is the only thing in life that multiplies the more you give it away.

A Child's Guide to Adoption

Mon, 11 Jun 2007 12:50:52 GMT

How is a family created? Most people think that a family is made when a couple gives birth to children. That's true, many times families are formed in this way.�But there are also other ways families are formed. In the old television show The Brady Bunch, the mother and father get remarried, combining their two families into one. Another way to create a family is by adoption. In legal terms, once a child is adopted, the adult who adopted him is his parent.

Why do people want to adopt children?

There are probably as many reasons for wanting to adopt kids as there are children waiting to be adopted. Some couples are not able to have children for medical reasons but still want to raise a family. Some single adults, although they don't have a partner or want to get married, desperately want to be a parent. Other kids' parents might remarry and their new stepparent might adopt them. Whatever way a parent and child come together, whether it's through birth, marriage, or adoption - a new family is born.

What's Adoption and How Does It Work?

The process of adopting a kid can be pretty long and involved. Some single adults and couples have to wait for years to adopt a baby. People wanting to adopt go through extensive background checks including, in some states, having their fingerprints sent to the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI).

People who want to adopt kids also meet with social workers or representatives from an adoption agency who ask questions like why they want to adopt, their attitudes toward children, and how they resolve family disagreements. This process is needed so that kids are placed in good homes where they can grow up happy and loved.

Why Do Kids Need to Be Adopted?

Of course, the financial side is only part of adoption, a very small part.�Babies and kids are a huge responsibility and not everyone is equipped to handle being a parent, or ready to parent when a child is born to them. If you've ever taken care of a puppy, you know that taking care of a pet can be very demanding, and they require lots of attention. Taking care of a baby is probably a hundred times more work! But this is only one of many reasons why there are so many kids waiting to be adopted.

In many cases, a young or single woman who gives birth to a baby can't handle that responsibility so she makes an adoption plan for her baby. Other times, especially in the case of adoptions from other countries, there is war, sickness, or poverty, and a parent may believe that the baby would be better off in another country. Sometimes a child's parents may pass away and he needs to go to someone else who can take care of him.

If You Were Adopted

Kids who were adopted are no different than other kids. But if you were adopted, you may have a little more on your mind than your friends. Sometimes, learning you were adopted may make it hard for you to pay attention in school. Many kids who were adopted wonder about their birth parents and why they didn't keep them. Sometimes they feel abandoned even if they love their parents and are happy in their home. They may also wonder where they came from and what nationalities they are. These feelings are normal and should be talked about with a parent or another adult who you trust so you can put your mind at ease.

Some kids do not find out they were adopted until they are older - sometimes not until they are adults themselves. Their parents might have put off telling them until they thought they would be able to better understand or because they feared what their reaction would be. Finding out later that they were adopted can be more of an adjustment for an older child or adult. That's why experts say it's best to explain to a child that he or she was adopted when they are around age 3 or 4, when they are first putting sentences together and can understand complex things.

If Your Brother or Sister Was Adopted

If your parents�gave birth to�you, you may have heard others refer to you as your parent's 'real child'.� How does that make you feel? Does that make your adopted brother or sister fake? Of course not! Being adopted doesn't make a sibling any less real or part of the family. There is no question that there are differences between you and your brother or sister. But there would be differences between you if you were both born into your family as well. No two people are alike. Think how boring that would be!

The facts are, your brother or sister - adopted or not - is going to be a part of your life for a very long time and you will rely on each other even more as you get older. Talk to your adopted brother or sister about his or her concerns. You might be able to help him or her sort out his or her feelings about being adopted or encourage him or her to talk to a parent or another trusted adult. You might even suggest that you talk about the situation as a family.

If Someone You Know Was Adopted

If you find out that someone you know, maybe a good friend, was adopted, there is no reason to treat them any differently. Your friend is still the same person they were the day before. If your friend wants or needs to talk about their situation, listen. Your friend will probably feel better just talking about his or her feelings, and by being a good listener, you've been a good friend. Knowing how your friend feels about their situation will allow you to stand up to anyone who tries to make fun of them for being different.

Adoption can be hard to understand, especially for those who may not have an adopted sibling, cousin or friend. Part of growing up is learning that families are formed in many ways, and accepting and embracing the differences that make each of us unique.

Thoughts on Attachment

Tue, 12 Jun 2007 15:58:09 GMT

Most of what I read in the popular literature makes attachment sound like a rope that runs between a child and a parent. Either your child is holding the rope and is "attached" or he/she has dropped the rope and has attachment problems. Needless to say, this is a simplistic image. The fact is, attachment is a complex relationship between parent and child and there are a wide range of variations and problems. Both parent and child contribute to the health of this special relationship.

I think of attachment as many woven strands between parent and child. These strands grow gradually and continually throughout the relationship. Both parent and child have to work at creating the weaving. When the weaving progresses smoothly, and the relationship is mainly cooperative, we call the attachment "secure". Secure attachment provides the child with a safe base (a parent) who helps the child maintain physical and emotional balance as the child moves away from the parent-base to explore the world and become an individual person. Reconnecting with the parent is a way for the child to regain equilibrium and to process experiences.

Before a parent can be a "secure base", infants have to know how to locate and signal or call the parent. When a parent initially anticipates and then responds to the signals, infants learn to communicate and trust that adult. There are a multitude of ways that this intimacy helps a child maintain physical and emotional balance. If the tasks of development (trust, social relationships, mastery of skills, identity) are the high wire act, then attachment is the combination of the ladders, guywires, balance pole, and of course, the ever-present safety net.

When a child looses birthmom, has a succession of caregivers, and finally is adopted, I imagine the base feels more like a foundation for a building constructed by several different construction crews. Each crew had it's own set of plans, and poured separate concrete slabs next to and/or on top of each other. To make matters worse, the building that must rest upon this base is grieving for the departed contractors.

To gain a child's trust, an adoptive parent must acknowledge not only the piecemeal foundation but the fact the child may still be waiting for past workers to return. This expectation resurfaces each time a developmental reorganization occurs. No matter how early the separations occurred, the child will be cognizant on some level of the patched together pieces. Without the acknowledgement of these facts by the adoptive parent, the child feels a bit crazy, "Am I imagining something? Why do I feel this way?" The infant or child cannot relax and trust deeply no matter how good or kind or consistent the adoptive parents may be. This unshared piece leads children to become "very busy" or "always happy" as a way to avoid feeling puzzlement, grief and the gap in the present relationship. This is initially a small but real hole in the fabric of attachment. However, as adolescence arrives, the hole widens, precisely because it was previously unaddressed. It offers teens an additional excuse to feel distrust for their parents. When adoptive parents address the issue, the child feels completely "known" by the parent, this is calming and the child can "play" and "feel" more fully.

A child with a patched base history may become demanding, coercive, helpless or threatening in the attachment relationship. Indiscriminant friendliness, or difficulty maintaining emotional or physical balance, difficulties in sensory integration may also occur. When these behaviors prevent the child from accomplishing developmental tasks or interfere with the parent-child relationship the attachment is called "atypical". The weaving has knots or gaps with strands in need of strengthening or repair. Adoptive families may have secure or atypical attachments, just as non-adoptive families do. In early childhood these issues are subtle and resemble difficult phases or temperament. Left unattended, these strands of early childhood difficulties can affect learning, behavior and social relationships.

Reactive attachment disorder (RAD) is quite different than what has been described so far. It occurs when a child has experienced global neglect, that is neglect of every need for many months or years. It is when all or nearly all of the strands that form attachments have been torn to the point the child no longer wants to enter into a genuine, interdependent relationship with an adult. From time to time, nearly all children with complex histories will show behavior that resembles an individual symptom of reactive attachment disorder. These behaviors stem from the time when there was no consistent or responsive caregiver available. Most children and their adoptive parents have the will to repair the strands, and to tolerate the melt-downs that are part of growing up in a family following a difficult early life.

Normally, children become disorganized emotionally and physically before each developmental leap whether it's rolling over, crawling, talking, going to pre-school, learning to read, or preparing for college. Children get cranky and have more than the usual number of a melt-downs. The communication suddenly shifts to baby talk and tantrums. Under the stress of disorganizing, adopted children frequently regress, or revert to survival skills they developed in institutions. These behaviors are typical when a child's brain is reorganizing. (They are also typical when a child is overstimulated, tired, or getting too little attention from a parent to remain in emotional balance.) During periods of reorganization, children need more help from their parent to maintain emotional balance. Since children cannot notify parents of what is happening to them, parents need to anticipate, or at least recognize, these points of disorganization, by learning about child development. A child needs parents to restrict stimulation and demands during this period. It is not the time to start a new music class or increase household chores. T. Berry Brazelton has calls these points of disorganization "touchpoints" because they offer parents and children a powerful opportunity to deepen their attachment.

In looking for guidance, adoptive parents are thrown off track by parenting books and pediatricians who do not take into account our children's early experience with separation and loss. How many parents have had friends, family or pediatricians who say, "throw that bottle away!" just a few months after an infant or toddler has been adopted. These well meaning advisors are forgetting about the importance of sucking for comfort for a child who has recently lost everyone and everything familiar. Throughout an adoptive child's life, sensitive parents must ask themselves if a parenting strategy or technique takes their child's history into account. Many parents worry that a stage will be permanent if they don't immediately eradicate the behavior. Sensitive and authoritative parents can take a step or two back when necessary, while keeping reasonable expectations for the future.

Adoption issues often come up when developmental reorganization occurs. Along with learning to share and wait in line, adopted pre-schoolers want to know "who will take care of me if mommy or daddy dies?" (which non-adopted children almost never ask) As they master times-tables, reading and writing, school aged children want to know if they can be "readopted" to another family, (non-adopted children don't spend time worrying that their parents might give them away or "throw them in the trash.") When adolescents take foreign language classes and advanced chemistry, they threaten to run away to China to find and live with birthparents. All of these are expressions of anxiety about their "secure base", and a wish for reassurance. These demands on parents are more typical of children with complex histories and are not an indication that the attachment or parenting have failed. In fact, they are indications that the attachment is operating as it should, the child is working with the parent to regain equilibrium.

An adopted child may depend more, and for a longer time, on the help of parents. Making sense of adoption on a daily basis is a task that takes time and energy for both child and parent yet it promotes deeper, more meaningful attachment.

My seven year old is learning to read; we sit down to our twenty assigned minutes of homework. "You hate me and I won't read," my child announces. "No I don't hate you," I reassure her. She curls up in a ball, like she used to at four. "I'm a baby." she says. What sort of signal is this? I realize after several weeks of trying various parenting strategies that are "age appropriate" responses that the developmental leap of reading is causing her to reconsider her feelings about adoption. And the reading material is also stimulating questions about separation and loss. The next time we sit down to read, I ask her if the story of the elephant growing up and leaving his mother makes her think about her first parents. She gazes up at me, "I love you mom" she sighs. Now she knows that I know how she feels and our attachment wraps around us like a quilt. The oppositional reading struggles vanish.

�At seven, and probably eight and eighteen, she will sometimes need me to intuit her needs when adoption issues arise. I keep re-learning that if we can connect about her feelings in this area, shortly thereafter she will meet my age appropriate expectations.

The growth of attachment after international adoption takes attention, work, and guidance from a parent. We can rebuild attachment relationships if we are mindful that attachment is not a rigid pattern described in the latest parenting book. Attachment begins with attentiveness, and is an elastic and changing process that fosters growth for parents as well as children.

Can Attachment Problems Turn Into Reactive Attachment Disorder?

Most adopted children have some issues with attachment, which is to say they have a more complicated attachment history that adoptive parents must integrate into the parent-child relationship. These children have occasional to frequent behavior difficulties which are judged atypical as compared to age appropriate behavior of securely attached non-adopted children. A few children who have spent their entire life in an institution or bouncing from one foster home to another, enter adoption with the symptoms of reactive attachment disorder.

Many adoptive parents are worried that somehow mild to moderate attachment difficulties (atypical attachment) will suddenly become RAD. Is this true? From my experience both in observation and reading of cases, I would say there are three reasons for atypical attachment to move towards RAD.

1. Parents deny or minimize or even normalize the atypical signs and symptoms, and therefore those needs of the child remain unaddressed.

2. Parents treat the symptoms as evidence of the child's "badness" or "willfulness" etc. instead of recognizing them as signals and communications. Many of these parents are struggling with their own early history of hurtful parents and feel the child's needs and/or demands are replays of prior abuse. Some parents come to the conclusion their child is "bad" based on philosophical or religious ideas.

3. Parents expect that because their adopted child is "doing well" they can give them the amount of attention and support a non-adopted secure child would receive. Having decided their child is "adjusted", they fail to leave time and space in their lives for the work of attachment. This neglect is felt deeply by the child and incorporated into the adoption and grief and loss issues. Because children with complex histories sometimes delay asking for help, or try to be "extra good" to get attention, the negative feelings are suppressed until some trigger releases them and they overflow.

Black, White and the Cornrow In Between

Thu, 21 Jun 2007 16:19:01 GMT

It was very late and my middle daughter and I were the only ones still awake.� I rose stiffly from the sofa and muscles weary from my labors.� My daughter yawned sleepily, and I kissed her goodnight.

"Go ahead."� I said.� "We are finished.� You can go take a look."�

She smiled, shook her hair back and forth to hear the beads click and clack, and then ran off for a quick look in the mirror before bed.�We had spent most of the previous three hours on her hair.� It is an activity usually reserved for Saturdays, but daily time spent in the pool had taken its toll and a style that started out incredibly cute a few days�before had gone south very quickly.�I knew that if we were going to survive the next few swim lessons, it was time to put her hair in cornrows and beads.

I am white, and new to this skill, so unfortuantely for my girl a process that would take a long time anyway always takes even longer.� So, hours earlier after dinner was finished I�had given�her the summons.

"Come on, Baby," I called.� "It's time to do your hair."

She scurried off to find toys to entertain herself for the first stretch of taking down the old style and combing through a multitude of tangles while I gathered the tools of the trade: wide tooth comb, rat tail comb, detangler, spray bottle filled with water, and a pair of tiny scissors used to cut the elastics free.

I sat on the sofa with her in front of me in a small chair and got to work.� Soon, three of her siblings gathered there with us and began to play as we settled into one of the comfortable expressions of our family culture "doing hair", just one way this family morphed into a new entity when our girls came home from Haiti.� As a African American friend once told me, "You are now the white mother of a family of color."

Later, after I washed�my daughter's hair and began to�cornrow it, �my children passed the time by watching the BBC's DVD of Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis, leaving me time to think.��As always, I found the process of styling my black daughter's hair profoundly humbling.

It is not that I am bad at it, I am actually pretty good to be honest.� Each Sunday, I receive the highest praise possible for my efforts from the people who should know:� African American women.� Still, each time I pick up the comb and place my hands on one of my daughters' heads I feel a little nervous.

"What if I don't do a good job?� What if�my baby is�ashamed of her white mother's creation?"

Because I know hair matters.

It matters because it is such a definitive expression of the African race and all their descendants scattered by the diaspora across the globe.� It is both the pride of heritage and�so often the focal point of the pain of discrimination.� It is at once a deep heart's cry to be validated as the unique creation of God but at the same time to not be defined by any one characteristic of one's race.

It matters because as a white family, we had a choice to make when we brought our Haitian daughters home.� Would we strip them of their culture and force them into our white world, or would we lay aside our own and meet them there.� Black, white, Haitian, and American.� Descendants of the oppressed and descendants of the oppressor woven into a family.

And a white mother with a cornrow in her hand.

"I am not my hair.� I am not this skin."� India Arie

What Lies Beneath

Thu, 21 Jun 2007 16:42:41 GMT

Long ago, years before the possibility of adoption even entered my mind, I was in a local shop and as the manager assisted me with my purchase, we began to make small talk.� I was a young mother, so it did not take long for the topic to turn to children.� When I asked him if he had any children, he not only responded affirmatively but shared with me that he and his wife had struggled with infertility and eventually ended up adopting a baby girl.�

�They were white.� She was black.

�"Yeah," he said.� "Her mother is in prison and the father is nowhere to be found.� We applied to adopt and once our paper work was completed, only waited a couple of weeks before they offered us the baby."

�I was taken aback by this watershed of personal information offered to me, a complete stranger, but it was nothing compared to what he would say next.� With no hint of realization of the impropriety or destructiveness of what he was relating to me he said,

�"We just love her to death.� My wife calls the baby her little (racial slur)."

�I was stunned.

�Since that time, I have had the opportunity to receive a vast education concerning both black/ white race relations in the United States and the complexities of transracial adoption.�While this scenario I witnessed so long ago is most certainly extreme, it is also a vivid illustration of�the pitfalls of adopting transracially.

�I consider myself extraordinarily blessed that before my husband and I came anywhere near beginning our adoption journey we first became a part of a church that was begun and led by an African American man to be deliberately diverse and serious about racial reconciliation.� Honestly, when we entered the sanctuary doors, I was perfectly confident that I was racially open-minded and unbiased.� What I found as honest discussion flowed, was that I was largely blind to the deep roots of racism woven into the fabric my life, passed down from generation to generation through my family.� I have since termed it like this:� The song of racism was sung to me over the cradle.

�Since then, I have discovered that I am not alone.� The implications and daily challenges of living as a racial minority in society are lost on most of those who make up the majority, which is why it is imperative that white parents who are adopting transracially go the extra mile to gain the understanding their children will desperately need to navigate the murky racial waters ahead.

�Not too long ago, a dear African American friend of mine and I were discussing these issues and I told her I had come to a conclusion that some might find extreme.

"You know," I said.� "I believe God intended for children to be reared in families, not orphanages, but if the white families raising them do not first honestly explore their own racial attitudes and then deliberately educate themselves about racial issues, it is an injustice to the child."

�"Yes," she agreed somberly.� "Good intentions are not enough."

�So true; and love, although tremendously important, is not enough either.� If minority children are going to thrive in transracial adoptions, they need so much more from their parents.� I have found it takes more patience, humility, and hard work than I once would have thought possible,�but it is achievable.

�And it is no more than every, single child deserves.�

Handling Indiscriminant Friendliness

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:31:30 GMT

For months my newly adopted daughter, Mei-Mei, had been shouting "Hello" loudly enough to embarrass me as we entered any restaurant, store, or even walking down the street. She insisted on greeting everyone effusively as though she had known him or her a long time and hadn't seen them in years. Likewise, when we were leaving an establishment, or ceased chatting with a neighbor, the good-bye's were loud and unending, as though she expected never to see these people again.

I tried to stop her. "Don't say, 'Hello' to strangers," I told her. She looked at me blankly and ignored every word. For the first several months I was often running after her snatching her back from climbing into some kindly stranger's lap. It was the same when she said, "goodbye".

Eventually I realized how stupid I must sound; to Mei-Mei everyone was a stranger, even her own newly adopting family. So if she said "Hello" to us, kissed us and sat in our laps, why not with everyone else? Once I realized that everyone was a stranger even Mommy, I tried to explain the concepts of "stranger", "friend", and "family". Although Mei-Mei was still F.O.B. so to speak, she was following English well and had the intellect of any bright three-year-old. Mommy, Daddy, big sister, the dogs are family," I told her. Mei-Mei would nod wisely. "We have more family : like Nana and Grandma. With family you can say hello and goodbye, kiss them and sit in their laps, if you want to. "

I found it easier to define these categories of people on the basis of acceptable behavior towards them, rather than on how long we'd known them or how close we felt with them. Specific actions were concrete and easy to pantomime; lengths of time and types of relationships or feelings were too vague for a three-year-old with three or four months of English experience.

"Then we have friends: Emily and Rowan. We say hello and goodbye, but we don't kiss, we shake hands. Sometimes Mommy has a friend that you don't know. That person isn't your friend yet. You can say hello, and goodbye, but you don't kiss them or sit in their lap until you get acquainted."

Strangers were harder still. "A stranger is someone Mommy doesn't know. We don't know a stranger's name, or where she lives. So if we say "Hello' it's once and maybe you could shake hands if Mommy says it's O.K." But how do I explain the checker at the market, Peggy, with whom I chat so cozily ? Is she a stranger?

I didn't and still don't know the answer to these questions. This is a confusing area to children coming from an orphanage setting. Relationships are a mystery. There is no previous experience with which to match them. Even the relationship of Mommy, Daddy, siblings, grandparents are unfamiliar and therefore confusing.

When I first introduced Mei-Mei to her maternal grandmother I explained that this was "my mommy" and Mei-Mei became terrified. She would have nothing to do with her grandma until I realized her fear must have something to do with what "mommy" meant to her. "Mommy" was defined, I suspected, as " the new person who took you away from where ever you'd been before". Given this understanding, it was no wonder she was terrified: she feared being given to a "new mommy", this old smiling round-eyed, white-skinned lady who looked nothing like the older Chinese women Mei-Mei might have seen. With this realization I reassured her that, "I am your mommy and you will stay with me. This is Grandma. We are saying Hello and then Mei-Mei and mommy will go home together." My daughter relaxed visibly as she absorbed this information. At last I knew the right words to use to calm her ever-present fears of being passed from one adult to another without end.� �Patty Cogen

My Daughter the Banana

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:36:39 GMT

There are long days when I finally glimpse myself in the mirror and am shocked at what I see. It's not the gray of my hair and wondering if I'm too old to be the mother of a toddler that alarms me. It's not how tired I look; I know this too shall pass. Rather, I'm shocked because I look "white", I look Caucasian. I expect to see an Asian face look back at me.

I spend most of every day face to face, in close proximity with my daughter. She is Chinese by birth and American by adoption. After focusing upon her for hours at a time, my internal world is permeated with her black almond shaped eyes, her glossy fine black hair, her warm-toned skin and her broad dimpled face. When I look in the mirror my internal self is still seeing in Chinese. My eyes grow wide at the disparity between what I expect and what I see.

I thought when this happened it would wear off in a few days. I asked a "white" friend who adopted a Chinese daughter three years earlier if it happened to her. "Yes," she replied, "and it never wears off."

I puzzled over this. Why were two grown women with good self-esteem having trouble keeping a firm hold on our self-images? My next thought was, if we adults are having this happen, what is happening to our daughters? The most pervasive image in their daily lives is our faces, our pale, high and narrow nosed, blue eyed, red or brown-haired visages. What then do they expect when they look in the mirror? To see a "white girl" I suppose.

Whenever I look at my family I see the diversity we present: three Caucasians and an Asian. However, when my Asian-American daughter looks at her family, she sees only Caucasians. What does this mean for us and for her? My sense is that we are overly aware of our diversity whereas she is less than fully aware. In our politically correct community and circle of friends there are no negative remarks. But there are no positive remarks made either, perhaps because people don't know what to say. What would I like them to say that would give all of us a good sense of who we are without being corny ? I wish I knew.

Since coming to America at four years of age my daughter has gravitated towards Asian people, or any dark-haired person. If there are three Asian women dining in a restaurant, she has to go and say hello. If there is an Asian child in the park she wants to play near by.

Reading the book, We're Different, We're the Same, my daughter often picked Caucasian features as those most like hers. Sometimes she seemed confused about what her features looked like. She was more certain about picking what I looked like. Could it be that in the year she's been in our family, she is loosing the image of her own face?

I try to have us look in the mirror together when we brush our teeth or comb our hair. I try to take time to focus and comment on our looks, and how they are different and how they are the same. I decide to share my experience with my daughter, to let her know we both are struggling with this issue. This is an opportunity to talk about what makes skin lighter or darker, how birthparents contribute to and shape how we look.

My daughter is obsessed with making us the same regardless of our different racial origins. First it was a barrette thing. I bought a bunch of barrettes for her and she had her own ideas about their use. Everyone in the family, including both dogs, had to wear them. For weeks the entire family (including Dad) went around the house with a selection of colored plastic in our hair (or fur).

When we went out I would forget to remove mine and people would comment, "Oh, look, you match!" I found myself delighted that finally people acknowledged we were a mother/daughter duo. Who else would wear matching barrettes? My daughter loved being seen as belonging to me. For both of us it became a wonderful way to forestall the strangers' inevitable question, "Is she your daughter?" and the unspoken implication that if we didn't match racially, we couldn't be related.

Now the matching takes other, more conscious forms: we both wear sun-glasses, we both wear a red shirt and blue pants; we both have eggs for breakfast, we both have a bandaged "hurt" on our left thumb. I am thrilled we have found ways to be the same and yet different.

There's a non-matching piece as well. My daughter insists on wearing mismatched socks. Is this a comment on how two things that don't appear to go together actually can do quite well? I like to think so. The other day she stared at an African-American man and a blond woman strolling together. We talked about how they were "different" and the "same", just like we were. The concept of race is not one easily explained to young child, so I just leave it in simple, concrete terms: pale skin/darker skin; big and little noses; round eyes/almond shaped eyes; straight black hair/kinky hair/ brown wavy hair etc.

My daughter spent four years seeing herself reflected in Chinese faces and bodies. Somewhere inside she has a picture of herself through the mirror of these other people. But that image has been occluded in less than a year by her new family, her new environment. Consequently I considered it vital to find a school which had a diversity of teachers, and families; a school that was proactive in helping children identify and appreciate their own and others similarities and differences. I was fortunate to find such a school and in less than a year my daughter's drawings and self-descriptions became both accurate and confident.

One of my Chinese friends laughed when I told her about my mirror experience. "Your daughter is going to be a banana, " she said.

"What do you mean, 'banana'?" I asked, slightly offended and totally puzzled.

"You know, a person who's yellow on the outside and white inside is a 'banana'" she explained. "You are an inside out banana!" and she went off into gales of laughter. I realized she was right, recently I had felt I was "passing" for Caucasian.

"Yeah, I get it, " I said, chagrined, "It's an Asian 'Oreo'".

My friend stopped laughing. "What's an 'Oreo'?"

� Patty Cogen

Seeing Things Differently

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:39:31 GMT

Children raised in families have an assortment of non-verbal behaviors to cue their parents to their needs and feelings.Out of this communication arises "family skills" for getting needs met. Children who have no maternal caregiver develop a different set of cues, and a different set of skills, survival skills. Sometimes these children show a lack of cues, or their skills may rely on coercive, aggressive or manipulative behaviors to get what they want. A few cues may be unique to the child$s country/culture of origin.

The list below compares the behavior of internationally adopted children to the behavior of children raised in a middle class anglo home environment from birth.

Internationally Adopted Child		Birth Child
Eats anything and possibly everything		Picky about food and often eats very little after about 6-8 months of age.
Never whines or fusses. Parents describe their child as "too good to be true" or "the perfect child"		Whines and fusses when tired or needy, when parent is distracted or on the phone.
Goes to sleep alone in a dark room and doesnt make a peep allnight. Waits in bed in the morning until parent retrieves child.		Doesn't want to go to sleep, especially alone. Wakes in night and calls for parent. Gets out of bed or calls for parent in a.m.
Does not expect or ask verbally or non-verbally for help or to have needs met, even when frustrated. An older, verbal child may express need in an overly adult fashion ex. "We have a problem here..."		Expects and demands help frequently and usually vocally.
Is exceptionally persistent and never shows frustration with task.		Becomes frustrated several times a day and lets parent know.
Has minimal or no facial/body expressions beyond a serious gaze or is "happy all the time". Child is either completely controlled or falls apart, often without any gradual shift.		Child has a variety of moods and feelings conveyed by a range of facial and body expressions including sad, mad, puzzled, tired, thrilled, irritable. throughout the day even if generally even tempered.
Cries or vocalizations all sound the same regardless of need.		Has different cries or sounds for different needs.
Child doesn't appear to notice or feel temperature changes. Never cold: no goosebumps or shivering.		Child shows signs of cold and notices temperature changes.
Child ignores wet and/or dirty clothing or diapers.		Child shows signs of disliking dirty or wet clothing/diapers and often alerts parent to fact after 8 mo.- 1yr.
Appears unaffected by transitions or changes in routine or major moves from one location to another. May have a delayed reaction hours or days or after event. Or, is unable to handle transitions including small changes without "falling apart" i.e tantrums, withdrawing, becoming clinging etc.		Reacts to changes of routine with protest after 6 months of age, and to larger changes with clingyness and sleep disruptions.
Child (10 months or more) shows no concern when parent leaves the room.		Child cries, fusses, watches parent, and may follow parent who leaves the room after age 6 mo.
Child plays alone without checking back with parent or expecting attention, often for long periods of time.		Child plays briefly alone after walking is established, but checks in frequently and runs out of "parent juice" within 10 - 30 minutes.
Child uncomfortable with dependent relationship, rejects parent's help and takes care of self in ways that indicate child doesn't expect to be cared for by adult, i.e. refusing to let parent hold bottle for child, ignores parent when being changed or dressed.		Child enjoys and is comfortable with dependence on parents and shares caretaking tasks i.e. holding bottle together, makes eye contact when being changed.
Child uncomfortable and may avoid with physical closeness especially with parent and/or seeks closeness indiscriminantly with other adults.		Child enjoys, seeks, and prefers physical closeness with parent.

Tips to Encourage Attachment

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:43:01 GMT

For any of the areas below, consider your child's "family age", the number of weeks and months your child has been a member of your family, rather than chronological age as a guide to "appropriate behavior and expectations".

Feeding: Anticipate your child's hunger. Encourage your child to make eye contact with you as she eats. Hold child on your lap while you feed him or her or while child feeds herself. Help child to recognize feeling empty and full. Make eating a time of physical and emotional intimacy.

Sleeping: Have child sleep in your room; a separate bed is fine. Tell child you are always available, and respond even to small sounds or cries in the night to develop your child to trust you at night as well as during the day. Stay near your child as he/she falls asleep. Remember, your child is only a few weeks or months old in "family time"; you wouldn't expect a two month old baby to put himself fall asleep alone.

Bathing: Bathe with your child and engage him/her in water play and body exploration. Skin to skin contact as well as eye contact are critical to building attachment.

Toileting: Help your child relate to you with eye contact and vocalizations when you change a diaper. Help your child learn to tell you when he/she is wet or dirty. If your child was toilet trained prior to adoption, expect accidents and perhaps a return to diapers. Remember to teach about and help your child to use our style of toilets.

Dressing: Dress or help dress your child, using this as an opportunity to have safe, contained physical contact, to teach vocabulary of body parts, and to comment on similarities (claiming): "Look we both have fingers on our hands!" or " You have brown hair and I have black hair: we both have hair!"

Injury: Respond, regardless of whether your child does, to any hurt or bump no matter how small. This is the way to teach your child to expect care when hurt, emotionally or physically. Model or encourage crying when it's appropriate, not stoicism, even in older children.

Emotions: Name and model all sorts of feelings. Use exaggerated facial expression and body language, and give words, phrases and dialogue for how to react emotionally. A basic beginning repertoire includes: happy, sad, confused, mad, and tired. Additions include: thrilled, furious, and frustrated.

Playing: Play with your child. Don't expect your child to know anything about toys or objects that are most familiar to you. Teach your child how to play.Minimize frustration; begin with toys that are for babies and toddlers.

Verbally: Describe what you and your child are doing to develop both vocabulary and your child's understanding of "how and why the world works". Include frequent references to how it might have been done one way in the orphanage (you sat in a chair and were fed quickly because lots of other kids were waiting) but in a family it's done a different way (you sit in my lap and I feed you slowly).

Picking up/Carrying: Remember "Family Time" when you debate whether to pick your child up. Most infants are carried without question until they can walk well, around 15-20 months. So give your self a good year of carrying. Get a backpack or front pack to help when you're doing chores. This close physical contact is critical to attachment and to bonding.

Socializing: Don't let your child go to other adults indiscriminately. Develop your child's sense of appropriate intimacy and expectation of care from just parents. Only parents should hold their child for the first month, and after that only extended family, if the child is comfortable. Define the following levels of intimacy : parents, family, friends, acquaintances, and strangers.

Frustration tolerance: Help your child develop ways to express frustration by demonstrating facial expression, physical and verbal ways to ask for help. Recognize when your child should be frustrated and coach your child to ask for assistance at that time. Emphasize the pleasure of getting (and giving) help.

Getting attention: Help your child learn to ask for attention. Demonstrate physical and verbal ways of asking for attention. Note when your child lets you "ignore" him or her for too long (phone calls, conversations with friends), catch yourself and explain to your child they have the right to ask for your attention, even when you are busy. Encourage child to do this.

Sharing: Children from orphanage settings sometimes share because they don't thing anything is really theirs. Help your child learn that certain things, including parents, belong to them and can not be taken away. Expect a short period of sharing, then a long period of possessiveness and eventually a genuine ability to share.

Sibling and Family Rivalry: Adopted children are often more jealous of sibs and parents or even parents showing affection to each other.

Regression: Expect it, even encourage it. This is your child's chance to be a baby with you.

Attunement/ Mirroring: Attunement is mirroring the emotional tone of your child. This and mirroring behavior and vocalizations helps build a child's sense of self and attachment. � Patty Cogen

International Adoption: Risks & Realities

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 19:11:09 GMT

There are numerous reasons why parents choose International adoption, but each case usually has a unique story attached to it. Some people have an affinity for a certain culture, some for humanitarian reasons, and some because they believe the risks are less than those for domestic adoption. Whatever the reason, any family considering international adoption must be well informed and accepting of the risks and realities of adopting internationally.

Lack of Information:

The information that is received on any child is typically minimal. The referral information will most likely include little to nothing about the birthmother. The child may have a genetic predisposition for medical or psychiatric illness which will not be known as family histories are not provided. A history of alcohol/drug abuse is not often known. Whether or not pre-natal care was obtained is typically unknown. Complete orphanage records are not sent. Sometimes diagnosis are made and test are performed that do not make any type of medical sense. When parents are lucky, a medical report may be available providing information as growth parameters, past medial history of what occurred in the orphanage and many times a video and pictures. While all children from International adoption are considered to be at minimal risk, this information when taken to a Pediatrician can help to uncover other more significant problems that are not visualized by the referral source.

Medical Uncertainties:

The countries where children are primarily adopted from usually have inferior medical technology and limited diagnostic capabilities. Although most of the children have some form of medical care, the standards of medical care for the children may not be the same as that for the general population.

Until recently, many infectious diseases were relatively rarely seen in the the United States, but they are a way of life in many countries. Children may be tested for certain diseases and be negative at the time the test was taken. However, that does not ensure the test was accurate or that the child has not subsequently become exposed to the disease. Viruses and infections can sweep through an orphanage. Children who have had frequent colds and ear-infections (not always known) may have built an immunity to some medications and some may have some hearing loss.

Orphanages do not provide children with well-balanced diets so the children tend to be small in stature and underweight which can have immediate and/or long-term medical implications.

The lack of well-balanced diets can lead to vitamin deficiencies or other associated conditions. Due to the lack of physical and intellectual stimulation, the children are generally developmentally delayed with poor muscle tone which may or may not mask a medical or neurological condition.

Environmental Conditions:

Uncontrolled water-air-soil pollutants, lead paint and industrial use of lead are some of the environmental hazards faced in some countries. Alcohol abuse and cigarette-smoking are socially acceptable behaviors in many countries, even during pregnancy.

Children With Special Needs:

The definition of "special needs" has come to mean children with physical disabilities or medical conditions, however, it is often not so simple.

The lack of a medical and social history, available medical care, living conditions, environmental conditions, disease, and incomplete and/or inaccurate referral information leave so many unknowns that we can not say any child is healthy.�

Although International Physicians may be capable at diagnosing visible medical conditions, there is little to no awareness of psychological problems. The emotional and physical impact of the living conditions may lead to long-term difficulties. The younger the child, the more unknowns there are as the child has not reached many of the physical and developmental levels necessary for more complete assessments.�

Many children are described as "healthy" by the referral sources or foreign government, but this needs to be taken in the context of the above conditions and the unknowns should be considered carefully.��

Other Risks and Realities of IA:

No-one can predict the future of any adoption program in any particular� country. Referrals of children should be considered tentative until the adoption has been finalized and the child is home. Countries may unexpectedly close, laws and requirements may suddenly change causing delays or moratrarium on all adoptions. (like what occurred in Romania). Other reasons, such as birthparents changing their minds, referrals lost to in-country adoption, or children may become seriously ill, could result in the child no longer being available for adoption.

If all of the risks of IA were to become realities, no-one would choose to adopt internationally; however, many times� the risks do not always become realities and there are many families who have adopted healthy, happy,� flourishing children who are thriving under the loving care of their new parents.

The Transracial Adoptees Bill of Rights

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 19:35:00 GMT

Adapted by Liza Steinberg Triggs from "A Bill of Rights for Mixed Folks," by Marilyn Dram�

� Every child is entitled to love and full membership in her family.

� Every child is entitled to have his culture embraced and valued.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that this is a race conscious society.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that she will experience life differently than they do.

� Every child is entitled to parents who are not looking to "save" him or to improve the world.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that being in a family doesn't depend on "matching."

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that transracial adoption changes the family forever.

� Every child is entitled to be accepted by extended family members.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that, if they are white, they benefit from racism.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that they can't transmit the child's birth culture if it is not their own.

� Every child is entitled to have items at home that are made for and by people of his race.

� Every child is entitled to opportunities to make friends with people of her race or ethnicity.

� Every child is entitled to daily opportunities of positive experiences with his birth culture.

� Every child is entitled to build racial pride within her own home, school, and neighborhood.

� Every child is entitled to have many opportunities to connect with adults of the child's race.

� Every child is entitled to parents who accept, understand and empathize with her culture.

� Every child is entitled to learn survival, problem-solving, and coping skills in a context of racial pride.

� Every child is entitled to take pride in the development of a dual identity and a multicultural/multiracial perspective on life.

� Every child is entitled to find his multiculturalism to be an asset and to conclude, "I've got the best of both worlds."

This article is published with permission from Pact Press.Pact, An Adoption Alliance,4179 Piedmont Avenue, Suite 330, Oakland, CA 94611Website :www.pactadopt.org Email :info@pactadopt.org

�

A Gift Only Adoptees Can Give

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 13:53:51 GMT

It's a gift adoptive parents can't give, birth parents can't give, or adoption professionals can't give. Only other adoptees can give it to one another.

I'll never forget sitting next to an adoptive mom at an adoption carnival where I was speaking. At the end of the day the time came for the children and teens to come on stage and show the parents an adoption art project they had been working on.

When all the kids were in place one of the therapists yelled, "Who's adopted here?"
Everyone's hands flew up and squeals of delight burst forth from the little ones.

"Me!" they yelled in unison.

The mom leaned over and said, "I've never seen that expression on my daughter's face. Look at her! When she said 'me,' her face absolutely glowed!"

Something unique happened to her daughter that day. What was it? Was it the excitement of being with kids the same age? Was it a sense of pride about her artwork or love of the spotlight?

I don't believe so. I believe it was because she had been given a gift that was brand new to her-the gift of fellow adoptee friendships!

The psychological drive that makes this gift so special is that it involves our basic need for connection. Drs. Brodzinsky and Schechter, adoption specialists with 30 years of combined experience, say that connection to an adoptee is like food to a starving man.

But connection to what or whom?

As an adoptee, I would guess it involves something to do with our lost heritage.
For those adopted at infancy or a young age, any connection to our heritage helps satisfy that need. Original birth certificates. A name or photo of our parents. An adoption story that included our birth parents. A reunion with our birth parents.

If we were foster kids and adopted at an older age because of troubled parents, that need for connection may manifest in an unexplainable loyalty based on vestiges of fantasy of what life might have been like had we had nurturing parents and remained in their home.

Many times this connection with our birth families is not an option. International adoptions often make it impossible. Sealed records keep vital information irretrievable.
Nonetheless, our friendships with one another are downright amazing!

The Amazing Gift

By being in the presence of fellow adoptees, we discover:

. We Are Like Family. Linda says that knowing adoptees has created a wonderful bond because there is a kind of "sisterhood" and "brotherhood" amongst us that has filled some of the void of not knowing her heritage.
. We Are Drawn to One Another. Gary said that his young daughter seemed to gravitate to other adoptees in her preschool class. Of course she didn't know they were adoptees, but there was that pull.
. We Have a Unique Emotional Language. Sherry says that adoptees can "read" each other from just a few words or their body language, which she says makes adoptees feel like they belong to each other.
. We are like Triple-Chocolate Cake. I never had an adoptee friend until I was forty-five. Her name is Jody Moreen. We spent hours in our favorite little tea room sipping spiced tea and "talking adoption." Life doesn't get much better than that!

Looking back, I can say that not having a fellow adoptee for a friend was like going through life and having missed triple-chocolate cake!

If your adopted child doesn't have fellow adoptee friends, start searching!

� Sherrie Eldridge, 2007. Based on Sherrie's second book, Twenty Life-Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make (Pinon Press, 2003)

The Love Language of an Adoptee

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 14:20:46 GMT

Imagine yourself facing a huge blackboard and running your fingernails over it, from end to end! It's enough to make one cringe just thinking about the possibility.

There is an emotional reaction within many adoptees, comparable to that finger-over-the-blackboard, sensation. To clinicians, it's called cognitive dissonance but to lay people, it's mixed feelings. A good example would be feeling happy and sad at the same time. For moms describing it to your kids, you could call it "double-dip feelings."

Adoptees experience mixed feelings when good-intentioned people make certain statements about adoption. Whenever I speak with parents on this topic, I share the following chart of six well-intentioned statements, how the adoptee often hears them, and then how to translate the intentions into the love language of the adoptee. This is adapted from my second Twenty Life-Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make.

There is one requirement before you read these statements. You must not let yourself feel guilty! We have all said these things at one time or another.

Communicator's Intent	Well-Intentioned Statement	Adoptee Translation	LOVE Language
Child will not feel rejected; cast good light on birth mother	Your birth mother loved you SO much that she gave you to us!	"Love is what got rid of me."	Your birth parents weren't able to parent ANY baby/ANOTHER baby at that time.
Create a sense of being wanted	You are a chosen child!	"I might have been "chosen," but first I was given away."	You have 2 sets of parents, one who gave you birth and another that gave you home and love. We are so glad that we got you!
Adoption is a blessing	Accentuate the Positive! (Count your blessings..count them one by one.)	Only say nice things about adoption or mommy and daddy will get upset.	Everything in life is happy and sad. The same is true for adoption. It's okay for you to feel sad and happy and to talk to us about ALL your feelings.
Describe parentage; ignorance	Illegitimate	I am a mistake.	God made you and He doesn't make mistakes!
Create self-esteem	You are special!	It's not okay just to be me. I have to try hard and do good so they'll like me.	We love you and always will, just as you are!
Create sense of belonging, inclusion	We love you JUST LIKE our own!	Why are you trying to make me like you? I'm not!	We love the unique things you add to your family!

Speaker and author, Sherrie Eldridge, an adoptee herself, is passionate about assuring those touched by adoption that they can grow because of the unique challenges adoptive family living presents. She is the author of the highly-acclaimed books Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew and Twenty Life-Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make and FOREVER FINGERPRINTS...An Amazing Discovery for Adopted Children (EMK Press). As President of Jewel Among Jewels Adoption Network, Inc., a non-profit adoption educational organization, she offers extensive online resources, including inspiration, encouragement, projects for parents and kids, newsletters, and free workbooks (www.adoptionjewels.org). For speaking, www.SherrieEldridge.com.

Helping Adopted Children and Teens with Identity

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 15:02:39 GMT

Imagine a May pole, with three shining ribbons streaming from the top. One ribbon is the deepest of purples, another, the richest of greens, and the third, the most vibrant of reds.

It's a beautiful summer's day and several young children dressed in white are dancing around the streaming ribbons, with arms outstretched, trying to touch the ribbons. They have no idea of the significance of the ribbons, or that their life task as adoptees is to braid these ribbons someday.

They do know, however, the basics of adoption because their parents have openly shared with them from day one. Adoption and the subject of birth parents are not foreign subjects-they are part of the beautiful dynamics of our family. "We are so happy that your birth parents gave you to us!" "Let's pray for your birth parents before you blow out your birthday candles."

As early as age three, your child may ask when she can meet her birth mother/father. However, adopted children don't truly comprehend the depth of meaning in those words and "parrot" their birth and adoption stories, grinning from ear to ear. This is misleading for parents because you may believe the big grin and happy story are indicative your child's peace about adoption. Remember, that adoption, just like everything else in life, involves pain as well as pleasure, and your child will discover that in the years ahead.

Start Early with a Coloring Project

By the age of two or three, when your child shows likes coloring, grab the opportunity to engage him with a coloring project called "The Story of the Braided Ribbons," located at www.adoptionjewels.org (downloadable on your computer). To make it a keepsake, print it in color on parchment paper. Reinforce the words "Birth Mother/Father," "Mom and Dad," and "Adoptee." Explain to the child "Red is for you, because you were adopted. Purple is for mommy and daddy because we adopted you, and green is for your birth mother and father because we love them for giving you to us." Every time you mention a color, have the child color part of the braid. Coloring will be scribbles, but you will be taking your child to the next level of adoption awareness and understanding. Perhaps your child can create one of these each year and you can include them in his Life book.

Buy Ribbons for a Braid

When your child reaches seven or eight, her cognitive abilities have further developed and she'll be able be able to reason, "Yes, I was adopted, but first I was sent away." Questions and tumultuous emotions will arise at the most inconvenient times (while you're in the bathroom or in the car at a busy intersection). "Why did she give me away?" "Was I a bad baby?" "Did I cry too much?"

This is prime time to teach them how to braid their ribbons because they now have the ability to begin understanding abstract concepts. Tell your child that you're going to do a fun adoption project together. Prior to this, you may want to show him the braids he colored when younger, reminding him of the meanings of the colors. Take him with you to the fabric store and let him choose red, purple, and green ribbons.

Tell her that an exciting part of being an adoptee is coming to understand how each person involved in her adoption is related to her and what they have given her to help her become the wonderful person she was created to be. Say, "Each ribbon has a purpose, each a vital contribution, and each a unique position with the other ribbons. Each ribbon is a work of art, but braided together, they become a magnificent masterpiece."

Teach that every time she discovers something new (feelings, thoughts, or facts) about her birth and adoptive families, whether hurtful or happy, it is an opportunity to make an addition to her braid. Explain that it's okay to feel sad, mad, glad, or scared about adoption and that she can share these feelings with you.

Deepen the message about the significance of the colors. "The purple ribbon represents your adoptive family, chosen to nurture you when you were given to us from your birth family. The green ribbon represents your birth family and their special gifts to you, like the gift of birth. The red ribbon represents you--a unique weaving together of nature and nurture into one marvelous human being, with awesome potential."

Teaching your child to weave every part of their story, whether painful or pleasurable, opens the door for helping them resolve upcoming teen identity issues of integrating their dual identity, of nature and nurture, and biology and adoption.

Get Creative-How to Begin

Young Children: Color the Braid (www.adoptionjewels.org)
School Age: Make a May pole with long, streaming ribbons
Teens: Make a friendship bracelet with purple, green, and red

Why Adoptees Get Mad at their Moms

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 15:05:00 GMT

Many moms of adopted children can't figure out what they've done wrong, what makes their children reject them, even though they have literally poured their very souls into their children. This anger may manifest in shouting matches, temper tantrums, refusing to let you hold her hand when walking through the parking lot, or refusing to go for a walk with you on Mother's Day.

It's downright hard for a mom not to take this rejection personally, but it is absolutely necessary that you don't-both for the welfare of your child and your own sanity.

If you understand the core reason why your child is rejecting you, it will be easier for you to detach from an emotional response and help your child comprehend the source of her anger and deal effectively with it.

Misplaced Anger

Anger is a scab over a wound, a secondary emotion. In other words, it happens in response to another occurrence, which is pain. No doubt, your child has the anger problem, which manifests in rejection toward you as a mom, but what is the great hurt? You haven't hurt her! You've done everything humanly possible to demonstrate your great love for her.

In reality, the anger is misplaced. Your daughter is not angry at you; instead, she is furious at her birth mother for leaving her behind. No matter how loving the birth mother and the adoption plan, the absence of the birth mother translated to your child as pure abandonment. That is the deep hurt beneath the scab.

Because your child doesn't understand this dynamic, she lashes out at you, with misplaced anger. The birth mother isn't around, so you receive the brunt of her anger.

You may be at the end of your rope, feeling crushed beyond belief by her multiple rejections. Truth be known, your child may wonder what is wrong with her-what is the cause of this overblown anger toward you?

How to Help

Understanding adoptee loss is the key to helping yourself and your child overcome this common adoption hurdle. Many parents read Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew, make notes in the margins, and then give it to the teen to read. This has opened many conversations.

If you can help her understand the source of her anger, then she can begin to manage it through grieving her loss (professional help may be needed here) and going forward toward healthier relationships, with you and others.

Changing an Adopted Child's Name

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 15:08:13 GMT

Changing an adopted child's name is of great concern to parents of international and domestic adoptions. One mother wrote, "When a child is adopted at age five or six, or later, do you feel it's appropriate to change the child's name? Should we consult with the child's wishes? Doesn't changing the name give the message that the birth family is bad, or something that should be hidden?"

There is core adoptee issue in this mother's questions about names.

A Name Establishes a Sense of Connection

Adoptees have a deep need for a sense of connection. Adoption experts Drs. Brodzinsky and Schechter say in their best-selling book Being Adopted: The Lifelong Search for Self that an adoptee's need for connection can be compared to a starving man's need for food.

Because the adoptee's connection with the birth parents was severed at birth, or later, there is a deep need to feel a sense of connection to them. This may not always be possible, in fact, with the increasing number of international adoptions, it may be next to impossible. However, there are other ways of establishing a sense of connection, such as visiting the country of origin, attending a heritage camp (www.heritagecamps.org), or fixing an ethnic meal.

Another aspect of connection needs to happen with you! We need to know that even though "we aren't bone of your bone or flesh of your flesh" that we grew in your hearts instead of under them. We need to hear our adoption stories, repeatedly. My dad delighted in saying, "You were so small, I could hold you in the palms of my hands," until his dying day. In addition, I delighted in hearing it just as much as he did telling it.

Bottom Line about Changing Names

Should an adoptee's name be changed? Personally, I believe it should be preserved and honored at all costs. It IS the link to the "past" portion of our dual identity. For parents to wipe it out would be one more severing and loss for the adoptee. It is something we can be proud of-something that proves we aren't "aliens," as many adoptees secretly believe. If it is changed, it likely will cast an unfavorable light on the birth family, instead of honoring them. Birth parents deserve much honor, even though their history may be negative or missing, for they gave you the gift of a beautiful child.

Our grand daughter who joined our family through adoption was named "Gracie" by her birth family. Our adult children have honored her birth mother and the heritage she gave by preserving the designated name as her middle name and adding their own first name-"Megan." By the way, Megan means "pearl." She's our pearl of a girl!

A Tool to Help Adoptees Resolve Loss

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 15:10:13 GMT

Loss? My child hasn't experienced loss! This is what many adoptive parents want so badly to believe. However, it is a reality of adoptive family living. Connie Dawson, Ph.D, an adoptee, author and speaker, and attachment specialist says, "Understanding how grief and loss affects adoptive relationships is an inoculation geared to prevent later problems."

It's one thing to understand that your child has experienced loss, but it's another thing to know how to help him grieve it successfully.

An Adoption Project

This tool can be used with children, ages seven and up. It can be used as a family project, as a parent/child project, or a counselor/client project. Here are the steps:

1. Tell him that you are going to work on an adoption project together.

2. Find a box that can hold several items-possibly 12 X 16 and 6 inches tall.

3. Make a "Sad List"----about his birth family, about the failed reunification, etc.

4. Select items together that are representative of each loss and put them into the box (You can use small items or photos from magazines and newspapers. Go to the dollar store-it's a great place to find the items. One teen that I worked with from Romania said that she had tears inside that wouldn't come out. We found round, blue pieces of glass wrapped in mesh, and those represented her unshed tears). Put the lid on the box.

5. Have child take items out one at a time and tell you how he feels about each one-- how he felt, where he was, what other people said, the smells, and the sounds. Help him get in touch with his anger. Explain that it is okay to be angry and to "get all the angries out." Assure him he can say anything-things he thinks are unspeakable. "I hate my mommy for not keeping me." This has to be done to get all the pain out. With truth and confession, there is freedom!

6. Validate his emotions. To validate means "to say that it's okay to have that feeling."

("If I were you, I would feel the same way." "It must really hurt, doesn't it?" Or, "You have a right to be angry!")

7. Teach him to forgive each person who has hurt him. (I like to use the illustration of having the person who hurt you strapped to your back. Ask him how heavy that would be. Ask him what awful things that person might say. Ask if he wants to grow up with all that happening. Then tell him that to forgive, means to cut that person loose. You might even want to draw pictures with him around this theme.)

8. Teach him that hurtful things can cause us to grow strong. Have him replace each item and say thank you and ask how he thinks he might grow stronger from each hurt.

9. Teach him to let go. Tell him that you'll put the box in a special place until he needs to use it again and then at that time, add another item.

Whenever I share my personal grief box, some people say, "Isn't it depressing to take it down for another loss and look at all the losses you've experienced?" I always assure them that the opposite is true-it is a reminder of how much I've grown!

Moms, look for changes in your child's emotional and spiritual health after doing this exercise, after he's had time to process it. You will be amazed that the grief box has turned into a gift box, and that grief was really a gift in disguise!

Named With Love

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 16:10:18 GMT

Our kids are starting to talk. Our son yells "DOG!" from one side of the room to call one of our Corgis towards him. Our daughter runs up to my legs and throws her arms around them, saying "Maaa" to let me know she wants to be picked up. I watch them daily as they discover that they have names for all that they love.

While we waited for our daughter's referral, we worked at picking out names. I remember the lists, the combinations; all we did to try to make sure we'd give her the right name. On the day the call came, one of the first things we were asked was if we'd chosen a name. We had: a first and middle name. But the name we gave when asked that first day was not the name she had on her original birth certificate, nor, as it turned out, the one she would have on her amended birth certificate either.

During the wait for our first adoption, the reality of another women as my daughter's first mother changed shape in my heart. She evolved from a ghost to a court report to a picture to a name; a person. She became no stranger; as my love began to grow exponentially for our new daughter, I also came to feel more bonded to her first mother by our mutual love. No stranger, because if I were to see her one day, I know that I would chose to reach out to her, call out her name.

Several nights over the past eighteen months I've fallen asleep and dreamt of her. Usually, the dreams are the same. We're sitting on a courtyard in Guatemala speaking in Spanish. We're playing that game of exchanging what we love best about our daughter, reminding each other of new things to say. She tells me what she wants from me, and I promise her two things: that my mouth will never forget how to form her name, and that the name she gave our daughter won't be taken away, as it is changed.

The first time I had this dream, we were a few months post-referral and I hadn't thought twice about changing our daughter's birth name. But then, that dream awakened that idea that, if we took away our daughter's birth name, her first mother wouldn't have the same access to her in dreams and prayers. Some people believe that, in international adoption, the children's first mothers are the ones my husband and I are supposed to bury as the ink dries on the final adoption decrees. That we should swaddle our children close and let ourselves forget a time when we were not yet with them.

But how could I forget the presence of the woman who called our daughter forth, a woman who loves the same person I love?

We ended up keeping our daughter's birth first name as her middle name and adding a first name of our choosing, so she'll always have a special name for all the people who love her to sing in dreams and prayers. A whole name that honors her origin and acknowledges that her great story did not begin with us while also making room for our soul-shaping love in her life. We've done the same for our son. I thought of names again more recently, when we received the surprising phone call from our agency telling us our son's first mother had just given birth to a baby girl she'd like to place with us for adoption, if we were willing, and we were asked to chose a name. I held the phone to my ear as our caseworker passed along to our lawyer that we'd accepted the referral, tears coming to my eyes when I heard that her first mother and my husband and I had all chosen the same name.

Sometimes, despite the unlikelihood of connection, connection takes place. I'm thankful we were wise enough to open ourselves to it. As we wait for our new daughter to come home, I watch our toddler son and daughter open their mouths and call their desires into the world, and smile, knowing that the names we call them reflect the love of the women who brought them into the world, as well as that of the parents who'd move the world for them.

Bones That Float: A Story of Adopting Cambodia

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 16:12:19 GMT

Even before we adopted, I loved hearing and reading birth and adoption stories. I always found something so fascinating about the way a child arrived into a particular life. Imagine my thrill then, when the latest book I received to review featured a luminous storyteller writing about love, friendship, and destiny through the experience of adopting a son from Cambodia. Kari Grady Grossman's Bones That Float: a Story of Adopting Cambodia (Wild Heaven Press, 2007) is my favorite type of book- impossible to put down and haunting long past its end.

From the first page, the reader is drawn in by powerful questions such as: why do certain children come into certain parents' lives? how profound is the transformative power of parenthood? and how can love make up for loss? It's in the mystical journey these questions inspire that Grady Grossman's writing weaves three stories.

In one, Kari and her husband long for a child and eventually adopt Ratanak from Cambodia; the couple travels, photographs and experiences the country, and lets its history begin to sink into them. After they return to the U.S., they struggle to give their son the best of both U.S. and Cambodian cultures and to determine what their duty is towards their son's first country and family.

In another, the reader follows Amanda/ Maly Prom, a Cambodian refugee and dear friend to the Grady Grossman family, as her family suffers and survives the violent rule of the Khmer Rouge, and eventually emigrates to rebuild a life in the western U.S.

In a third, the reader follows Sovann, Kari's moto driver and eventual friend and employee, and glimpses what it might be like to make a life in this ravaged country with no possible escape.

It's these three stories which add amazing depth to this memoir of adoption and go such a long way in helping the reader understand the hypnotic horror and hope Cambodia has to offer in an intimate and unforgettable way. Each of Grady Grossman's chapters begin with an epigraph, but the one that sticks with me the most as I consider her work is: "Life shrinks and expands in proportion to one's courage," attributed to Anais Nin. To adopt internationally and write this story is courageous, but what is most courageous of Grady Grossman is her continuing effort at making a difference in Cambodia.

By founding the Grady Grossman School in the Chrauk Tiek village, by donating a generous percentage of the proceeds of her book and by remaining engaged with her son's birth country and culture, she brings education, possibility, and hope to those facing "dismal poverty, government corruption, and environmental destruction" in her expanded world.

I offer Bones That Float high praise and believe this spellbinding story deserves a place on every bookshelf, as a book that makes its reader aware of the reach of love, as well as of the connections between all citizens of the world. For more information on Bones That Float, The Grady Grossman School and what you can do to help, please visit: www.BonesThatFloat.com and www.GradyGrossmanSchool.org .

Babyproofing Your Marriage: How to Laugh More, Argue Less, and Communicate Better as Your Family Grows

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 16:14:43 GMT

Like many adoptive parents, my husband and I gained experience in childproofing long before we gained experience in parenting a child.

We childproofed our house for our home study visit - outlet covers secured, toxic materials raised to high shelves, safety latches attached to the windows- early on in the process. By the time our daughter arrived home, childproofing wasn't even fresh in our memory. It was just something we'd done to prepare our home for our child, to make it safe and welcoming.

The book Babyproofing Your Marriage: How to Laugh More, Argue Less, and Communicate Better as Your Family Grows (Collins) by Stacie Cockrell, Cathy O'Neill, and Julia Stone springs from a similar concept; it's the how-to behind keeping your marriage healthy and fun as you welcome children into your family. Written by three friends, it collects the marriage and parenting experiences of the authors, their friends, and a considerable number of perfect strangers into a practical guide for today's trying-to-do-it-all parents.

Cockrell, O'Neill and Stone dive into issues such as romance, communication, sex, child rearing, work, housekeeping, time management and in-laws with purpose and a sense of humor. Babyproofing Your Marriage is full of advice to help you integrate your original husband and wife roles with your new dad and mom roles.

Moms and dads will find something (if not many things!) to identify with as the book fairly presents male and female perspectives throughout various phases of parenthood. Even better, you'll both find great tips such as the "Dad's Training Weekend", "Five Minute Fix", and the essential and too-easily-underestimated "Divide and Conquer" which are sure to refresh your approach to each other and to your new familial responsibilities. Cockrell, O'Neill and Stone make sense in their observations and suggestions; they give straight-forward advice from a "been there, done that" point of view.

It's true that Babyproofing Your Marriage employs stereotypes such as the workaholic, sex-starved dad and the bathrobe-wearing, martyred mom to represent common pitfalls of parenthood, but the authors' hyperbole seems used to catch the reader's attention, to wake you up. Sort of a "Hey! Just because your new child is helpless doesn't mean you can ignore your partner! The joy of your marriage is what made you want to grow in your love in the first place!" Their nudging works.� By the end of the book, you've paid attention to all the little things they suggest and realized they might just make a big difference. You're ready to cast off the stereotypes and become your own version of a happy, healthy spouse and parent ready to enjoy the chaotic wonder of your life.

Spend some time with Cockrell, O'Neill and Stone- their chapters are great stand-ins for your real-life parent friends dishing their advice over lunch.particularly if your real-life parent friends are too overwhelmed or sleep deprived for this kind of chat. Whether you're a first-time parent, a parent in the process of adding more children to your family, or just a parent needing a boost of spirits, I highly recommend Babyproofing Your Marriage. It may not be an adoption-specific book, but the help it provides is just as necessary for adoptive moms and dads.

True Bravery

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 16:17:47 GMT

I think of my husband and myself as brave. After all, we have embarked on one of life's ultimate adventures: an international adoption. We put on our bravest faces every day when we pass the still baby-less nursery, when friends and family continue to ask, "Any news yet?", when no one seems to understand how difficult it is for us to put our total faith in the hands of adoption professionals in a different country, and most of all, to wait when our arms ache for the presence of the daughter we know only from dreams and from pictures.

Day after day, it amazes me that we keep persevering, having faith that our family will be united one day. It makes me very proud of us, but I can get a little self-pitying too. On those days when we're waiting for updates, when we feel so alone in our personal struggle, we need a sense of perspective that we won't take from those around us, unless they're adoptive parents themselves. At least that was how we felt until we got the ultimate perspective in the form of a new personal heroine: our daughter's birth mom.

We received the DNA results required by the government for Guatemalan adoptions on a Saturday afternoon in April. My husband got our mail from the box and leafed through it while walking up our driveway. We were not expecting to get the results, which include scientific proof of parentage and a picture of your child in the arms of their birth mom, for another week, so we were surprised to find a large Labcorp envelope peeking out just in front of our junk mail.

Anxious to see another picture of our daughter, and to finally see her birth mom's face, we tore the envelope open. What we saw inside can only be summed up as a revelation. Imagine the emotions that you might feel when looking at a photograph of a work of art, such as the Mona Lisa, or a natural wonder such as the Grand Canyon . Take that sense of awe and wonder and multiply it by a million. That's what we felt when we saw the picture of our daughter's birth mom holding her in her arms.

We were amazed by her beauty, her lips and skin and eyes a carbon copy of our daughter's. Most of all, we were silenced by the strength and courage that emanated from her birth mom's eyes, and by the admiration that this made us feel. After all, in all of our bravery as adoptive parents, could we compare ourselves to this young woman, making the ultimate sacrifice of losing her child to provide her with a life of opportunity? Could our love ever be that brave? We will never know the answers to these questions. Our love for our daughter will play a different role in her life. But what this experience of coming face-to-face with her birth mom's presence has shown us is that we must always honor her bravery; how could we ever downplay or ignore something so significant? Because although she is thousands of miles away, this woman will always be part of our parenting- that part which urges us and shows us how to be better parents every day by opening our hearts in the face of both easy and challenging circumstances. She will forever be a part of our lives as our family loves her in silence and in conversation.

We will cherish the force of her birth mother's love so that our daughter may always know where her own brave eyes came from.

The Complete Book of International Adoption

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 16:19:08 GMT

When my husband and I started our adoption journey, there were a lot of books about international adoption we didn't buy. This is a major statement from two book lovers, but a true one. It seemed that the majority of the books on the adoption bookshelves were either too negative (focusing solely on the challenges of parenting a child through adoption), too shallow (treating Guatemalan adoption the same as Russian adoption) or just too dry (and when you're in the middle of paper-chasing, you need a real page turner to keep you going). So we went against our nature and mined other resources in order to become educated and bolstered throughout the process.

Our minds expanded with new information, though our nightstands lacked the expected adoption reading. My nightstand void remained until I received Dawn Davenport's The Complete Book of International Adoption: A Step by Step Guide to Finding Your Child (Broadway Books) to review. Having been in the process with either our daughter (now home) or our son (still in Guatemala ) for 14 months and being blessed/ cursed with an ever-so-slightly obsessive personality, I consider myself to be well-informed about international adoption. Davenport 's book, however, presented me with even more information than over a year of experience, other research, friendships and internet groups have. Furthermore, it was a pleasure to read.

The Complete Book of International Adoption: A Step by Step Guide to Finding Your Child actually lives up to its title by carrying its reader through the initial considerations of whether or not you should adopt internationally to adjusting to your child's first months home to celebrating his/ her personal history and birth culture. It's a great find, with clear, detailed, and up-to-date information on the international adoption process between the U.S. and 17 other countries: China , Russia , Guatemala , South Korea , Ukraine , Kazakhstan , Ethiopia , India , Colombia , Philippines , Haiti , Liberia , Taiwan , Mexico , Poland , Thailand and Vietnam . Davenport covers the emotional and practical aspects of international adoption evenly and seamlessly. Some of my favorite sections dealt with how to find and choose an ethical agency, how to survive the wait, how to travel internationally and still keep your sanity and how to deal with insensitive adoption comments.

To broaden her coverage even more, Davenport includes several pages of perspectives from a variety of adoptive parents at the end of each chapter. Best of all, I loved Davenport 's voice. From her incredible My Prayer for All Children in the beginning of the book to her 50 page-long resource section, she comes across not only as an expert, but as a mom you'd want to sit down and chat with. Her compassion and sense of humor reach out to you and draw you in.

Whether you are embarking on your first or fifth international adoption, I highly recommend The Complete Book of International Adoption: A Step-by-Step Guide to Finding Your Child as one of the best books on the subject. Davenport will open your eyes and brighten them as she carries you through the life-changing journey of international adoption.

Medical Conditions in International Adoptees

Fri, 13 Jul 2007 13:01:40 GMT

Potential medical conditions

Orphans from Asia, Eastern Europe, Africa, and the Americas tend to be from the lowest socio�economic stratum and suffer from all the diseases of poverty. International adoptees may have intestinal parasites, tuberculosis, HIV, syphilis, hepatitis A, B, and C, hypothyroidism, metabolic disorders, malnutrition, lead poisoning, anemia, and fetal alcohol syndrome.

Medical problems in adoptees vary with the children's countries of origin. Hepatitis B, C, and HIV infections, although rare, [2] are more common in children adopted from Asia, Eastern Europe, and Africa, and are encountered less often in children from the Americas. [3] Lead poisoning can be expected in all adoptees, but it is found most frequently in children from Asia. [3] Fetal alcohol syndrome is most prevalent in children adopted from Eastern Europe. [3]

Developmental, psychological, and behavioral issues

International adoptees also can be expected to exhibit developmental delays, since the developing brain is sensitive to early insults, such as severe maternal malnutrition and neglect in the�first year of life. Alcohol, in particular, is a direct toxin to the fetal brain. Children may look normal, without features of fetal alcohol syndrome, but still be profoundly compromised. Also, life in an orphanage causes 20%-33% developmental delay, especially in speech (T. Ochs, MD, unpublished data, 2004).

Furthermore, the longer a child lives in an orphanage, the more likely he or she is to suffer developmental, emotional, and behavioral problems that can be especially challenging for new families. Creating and maintaining emotional attachments can be difficult for previously neglected children who have been forced to turn inward for comfort. Reactive attachment disorder may occur after severe emotional neglect and multiple caretakers, without one becoming a surrogate parent. These children may act like angels outside the home and like demons with their adoptive families, and consequently, nobody believes the parents' horror stories. Also, autistic spectrum disorders are not uncommon in this population. Children with self-stimulating behaviors (eg, rocking or head-banging) need immediate evaluation. In addition, all adoptees may have symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder when they are removed from familiar surroundings.

Remarkably, the vast majority of international adoptees do quite well in their new families within a few months, despite initially demonstrating developmental and relational deficits. In some children, however, difficulties may remain over longer periods or worsen.

Internationally adopted children also may suffer from inherited psychiatric disorders that typically are unknown to the adoptive parents, who are given little or no medical and psychiatric history of the child's biological family.

Immunization concerns

Immunizations may or may not have been given, even if appropriately recorded. Also, efficacy of administered vaccines is debatable due to host and storage concerns. These factors make orphanage vaccine records unreliable, although South Korean and Central and South American records are the most likely to be valid. If the immunizations noted in the record look valid, and 2 doses of a specific vaccine were given, the last at least 6 months ago, immunization titers may save repeated vaccines.

Repeating immunizations is also a reasonable choice. Pneumococcal conjugate vaccine (PCV7), Haemophilus influenzae type b (Hib) vaccine, and varicella vaccine are not commonly listed on adoptees' �immunization records, and rubeola vaccine is often given at less than 12 months of age. Also, a rubeola vaccine may not include rubella. Even in children with positive immunization titers, a booster dose of vaccine may be indicated.

BCG vaccine is almost always given to orphanage children, but is, unfortunately, not completely effective in preventing tuberculosis infection. However, the PPD (purified protein derivative) relies upon an appropriate cellular-mediated immune response, which may be adversely affected by malnutrition. For this reason, placing the PPD may be delayed for a couple of months, or, if given at the initial exam, should be repeated in 6 months. A fresh BCG scar means that the PPD can be delayed for 6 to 12 months. A positive result is greater than 10 mm of induration, in which case the previous history of BCG vaccination must be disregarded. [4] A chest x-ray and appropriate treatment must follow.

Recommended screening tests

Laboratory results included in adoption referrals vary in reliability, since laboratories in developing countries are not regulated as tightly as those in the U.S. Multiple patients getting stuck with the same needle may test negative for hepatitis B or HIV in the country of origin, but yield a positive serology in the U.S. It is recommended that these tests be repeated 6 months after initial testing in the U.S. See Table 1 for a complete list of recommended screening tests for international adoptees. [4]

Table
1

Recommended Screening Tests for International Adoptees

Hepatitis B* (HBsAg, HBsAb, HbcAb)
Hepatitis C* (HCAb)
HIV 1 & 2 (ELISA screen, then PCR if positive)
RPR for syphilis, and may need treponema antibodies if positive
PPD (If done on first visit, repeat in 6 months, if negative)
Stool for ova and parasites
Stool for culture, if indicated
Complete blood count
Complete metabolic profile

Thyroid stimulating hormone
Lead level
Immunization confirmation
(If older, or parents insist. Repeating vaccines is a cost-effective option.)
Developmental screening
Ophthalmological exam
Dental exam
Psychological evaluation, if indicated

*Repeat in 6 months

For adopted children who may have developmental delays and are under 3 years of age, a referral can be made to the Early Intervention program for free evaluations and free or low-cost therapy. For older children, the public school system is obligated to do educational evaluations and interventions. Private therapy is often indicated as supplemental or complementary to school services. Resources related to international adoption services are listed in Table 2.

Table
2

International Adoption Resources

Organization

Services

International Adoptee Clinic, Children's Memorial Hospital

Contact:
Physicians call:
1.800.540.4131

Parents Call:
1.800.KIDS.DOC

Comprehensive screening tests and follow-up care for infectious diseases
Written comprehensive assessment, treatment plan, and referral recommendations to primary care physician
Onsite neurodevelopment, speech pathology, nutrition, and other specialist services

Adoption Pediatrics, Ravenswood Medical Professional Group

Contact:
Todd Ochs, MD
773.769.4600

Formal or informal consultations
Review of medical information, physical examinations, developmental evaluation, comprehensive laboratory evaluation, and follow-up care
Referrals to Early Start Program (Early Intervention), and to adoption medicine specialists in Chicago metropolitan area

American Academy of Pediatrics, Section on Adoption and Foster Care

Contact:
www.aap.org

Connections with adoption medicine providers nationwide
Educational material and links to adoption sites

Early Intervention, Illinois Department of Human Services

Contact:
www.state.il.us/agency/
dhs/earlyint/

Contact information for Illinois Early Intervention services and other resources for children with potential developmental delays

Joint Council on International Children's Services

Contact:
www.jcics.org

Education and networking resources via annual conferences (Aprils in Washington, DC)
Country-specific adoption updates

Comeunity

Contact:
www.comeunity.com/
adoption/health/growth

International growth charts

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention

Contact:
www.cdc.gov/travel/

International travel health guidance system

Conclusion

Upon arrival to the U.S., internationally adopted children must be screened for a number of infectious diseases. This is important for the health of the adopted child, the new family, and the community. Pediatricians also need to appreciate the complex physical and emotional challenges faced by these children. Then, it is possible to arrange appropriate evaluations and care for the potential medical, developmental, psychological, and behavioral concerns specific to international adoptees.

Is HIV a possibility?

Fri, 13 Jul 2007 13:06:03 GMT

HIV testing of international adoptees is a controversial topic in the field of international adoption. Debate regarding this topic has been fueled by reports in the press about the increasing incidence of HIV in China. As a result, many adoptive families traveling to China (as well as to other countries) have requested more information about the HIV status of the child they are seeking to adopt. This has resulted in families seeking HIV testing before or during the adoption process, as well as adoption agencies offering this test to families, often while they are in China completing the adoption process.

In many cases, the foreign governmental adoption authorities (e.g., China Center for Adoption Affairs in China) have responded to the requests by doing the basic HIV ELISA screening test.

Screening tests for HIV are designed to yield some false positive results, but not false negative results. This means that the initial test done (usually the ELISA, which identifies antibodies for HIV) will show positive results in some people who do not have HIV. Once the initial test is positive, then more specific tests are routinely done. Frequently individuals with a positive ELISA test will not actually have HIV. With HIV, the ELISA is backed-up frequently by one of two tests, the Western Blot or the PCR. Both of these tests are is more specific than the ELISA in identifying antibodies to HIV. The PCR, or Polymerase Chain Reaction is designed to identify the viral genetic footprint. Unfortunately, the PCR is a very expensive and complex laboratory test to perform, and results from the PCR are dependent upon the quality of the laboratory doing the test. Regulation of laboratories in adoptees' countries of origin is often problematic.

In addition to problems performing the HIV ELISA test, is that performing the test itself may increase the child's risk of actually acquiring HIV. For this (and other reasons), most adoption physicians recommend that testing for HIV (as well as Hepatitis B and Hepatitis C) be performed after a child arrives in their home (adopted) country, and then again six months later.

The real problem with HIV testing is that the antibody tests do not discern between maternal and child antibodies. HIV antibodies can cross the placenta. Maternal antibody may persist in the child's blood stream for two years, or more. So, it is not hard to imagine what happens to children who test positive for HIV antibodies, without the benefit of back-up tests. The Russian experience has been tragic for infants, who were warehoused until their ELISA's turned negative. Two and three year-olds have been so damaged by neglect, by the time they converted to negative, that they suffered from the effects of prolonged institutionalization. Undoubtedly, some antibody-only children became infected during that time, and children who needed anti-HIV medication were not identified early enough to treat them.

A final dilemma is what to do about children who are adopted in their native province, and then are tested (as per parent or agency request) for HIV and have a positive ELISA test. The majority of these children will not have HIV, but it is doubtful that a safe, timely and accurate PCR test will be able to be done for those children. Unfortunately, their adoptive parents may be confronted with a decision that will undoubtedly be very difficult. Do they turn down their adopted child, not knowing whether or not she/he has HIV or not? And, if they do disrupt their adoption, do they get another referral, and, if so, when? Do they bond with their adopted daughters and sons, or should they wait until the HIV ELISA is negative?

In short, many physicians experienced in international adoption medicine do not recommend routine testing of HIV in China for the following reasons:

Back-up testing, which is more accurate and utilizes the PCR test, is not widely available, reliable, timely or safe. Even back-up testing, if done before the test itself has become positive, may not be 100% reliable.
Exposing a child to multiple blood draws will increase his/her exposure to blood and body pathogens without significant benefit for the children.
False positive testing with the HIV ELISA test will result in children being labeled with HIV who, do not in fact, have that diagnosis. It is possible that these children will not be retested, at least in a timely manner to expedite adoption at a young age.
About 3 to 5% of children who test negative for Hepatitis B while in China actually test positive once they are in their home country. Thus, experience with this similar blood borne pathogen shows that the testing for such infections is not reliable, even though the test for this disease entity is more widely available, more easy to perform, and the disease much more prevalent.
The current risk of a child being adopted in China, and actually having HIV, is currently very low. No adoption pediatrician has seen a Chinese adoptee with HIV in 8,000 tests, in a recent survey. In addition, it revealed that the actual number of internationally adopted children with HIV is less than 0.2% of the total numbers of children being adopted all over the world.

Undoubtedly, it would be tragic for a family to adopt a child in China and find out, upon arrival testing in the home country, that the child has HIV. But if we remind ourselves that adoption is all about finding homes for children who are in need of permanent families, then it is easy to see that this child will have a much better prognosis in a family than continuing to live in an orphanage, where it is unlikely that aggressive treatment for this devastating disease will be available.

The decision for HIV testing in a child to be adopted is one that needs to be made by each family, in conjunction with the adoption agency, after careful consideration of the risks to the child and benefits for the family. Again, focusing on the overall purpose of adoption as being for children may help families to better accept the risk that comes with NOT having testing done in China. Until HIV testing can be done reliably, safely, timely, and with no risk of false positives (or negatives), it cannot be recommended as being in the best interest of children or adoptive families.

Todd J.Ochs, MD,  FAAP Adoption  Pediatrics,  S.C. 841 West Bradley
Place  Chicago, Illinois 60613  773-975-8560	Fax: 773-975-5989    Deborah
Borchers,M.D.,  FAAP Eastgate Pediatric Center  4357 Ferguson Drive, Suite 150 
Cincinnati,OH  45245  513-753-2820   Fax:  513-753-2824

A Different Perspective

Fri, 13 Jul 2007 22:08:55 GMT

Imagine for a moment.

You have met the person you've dreamed about all your life. He has every quality that you desire in a spouse. You plan for the wedding, enjoying every free moment with your fianc�e. You love his touch, his smell, the way he looks into your eyes. For the first time in your life, you understand what is meant by "soul mate," for this person understands you in a way that no one else does. Your heart beats in rhythm with his. Your emotions are intimately tied to his every joy, his every sorrow.

The wedding comes. It is a happy celebration, but the best part is that you are finally the wife of this wonderful man. You fall asleep that night, exhausted from the day's events, but relaxed and joyful in the knowledge that you are next to the person who loves you more than anyone in the world.the person who will be with you for the rest of your life.

The next morning you wake up, nestled in your partner's arms. You open your eyes and immediately look for his face.

But IT'S NOT HIM! You are in the arms of another man. You recoil in horror. Who is this man? Where is your beloved?

You ask questions of the new man, but it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn't understand you. You search every room in the house, calling and calling for your husband. The new guy follows you around, trying to hug you, pat you on the back,...even trying to stroke your arm, acting like everything is okay.

But you know that nothing is okay. Your beloved is gone. Where is he? Will he return? When? What has happened to him?

Weeks pass. You cry and cry over the loss of your beloved. Sometimes you ache silently, in shock over what has happened. The new guy tries to comfort you. You appreciate his attempts, but he doesn't speak your language-either verbally or emotionally. He doesn't seem to realize the terrible thing that has happened...that your sweetheart is gone.

You find it difficult to sleep. The new guy tries to comfort you at bedtime with soft words and gentle touches, but you avoid him, preferring to sleep alone, away from him and any intimate words or contact.

Months later, you still ache for your beloved, but gradually you are learning to trust this new guy. He's finally learned that you like your coffee black, not doctored up with cream and sugar. Although you still don't understand his bedtime songs, you like the lilt of his voice and take some comfort in it.

More time passes. One morning, you wake up to find a full suitcase sitting next to the front door. You try to ask him about it, but he just takes you by the hand and leads you to the car. You drive and drive and drive. Nothing is familiar. Where are you? Where is he taking you?

You pull up to a large building. He leads you to an elevator and up to a room filled with people. Many are crying. Some are ecstatic with joy. You are confused. And worried.

The man leads you over to the corner. Another man opens his arms and sweeps you up in an embrace. He rubs your back and kisses your cheeks, obviously thrilled to see you.

You are anything but thrilled to see him. Who in the world is he? Where is your beloved? You reach for the man who brought you, but he just smiles (although he seems to be tearing up, which concerns you), pats you on the back, and puts your hand in the hands of the new guy. The new guy picks up your suitcase and leads you to the door. The familiar face starts openly crying, waving and waving as the elevator doors close on you and the new guy.

The new guy drives you to an airport and you follow him, not knowing what else to do. Sometimes you cry, but then the new guy tries to make you smile, so you grin back, wanting to "get along." You board a plane. The flight is long. You sleep a lot, wanting to mentally escape from the situation.

Hours later, the plane touches down. The new guy is very excited and leads you into the airport where dozens of people are there to greet you. Light bulbs flash as your photo is taken again and again. The new guy takes you to another guy who hugs you. Who is this one? You smile at him. Then you are taken to another man who pats your back and kisses your cheek. Then yet another fellow gives you a big hug and messes your hair.

Finally, someone (which guy is this?) pulls you into his arms with the biggest hug you've ever had. He kisses you all over your cheeks and croons to you in some language you've never heard before.

He leads you to a car and drives you to another location. Everything here looks different. The climate is not what you're used to. The smells are strange. Nothing tastes familiar, except for the black coffee. You wonder if someone told him that you like your coffee black.

You find it nearly impossible to sleep. Sometimes you lie in bed for hours, staring into the blackness, furious with your husband for leaving you, yet aching from the loss. The new guy checks on you. He seems concerned and tries to comfort you with soft words and a mug of warm milk. You turn away, pretending to go to asleep.

People come to the house. You can feel the anxiety start to bubble over as you look into the faces of all the new people. You tightly grasp the new guy's hand. He pulls you closer. People smile and nudge one other, marveling at how quickly you've fallen in love. Strangers reach for you, wanting to be a part of the happiness.

Each time a man hugs you, you wonder if he will be the one to take you away. Just in case, you keep your suitcase packed and ready. Although the man at this house is nice and you're hanging on for dear life, you've learned from experience that men come and go, so you just wait in expectation for the next one to come along.

Each morning, the new guy hands you a cup of coffee and looks at you expectantly. A couple of times the pain and anger for your husband is so great that you lash out, sending hot coffee across the room, causing the new guy to yelp in pain. He just looks at you, bewildered. But most of the time you calmly take the cup. You give him a smile. And wait. And wait. And wait.

--Written by Cynthia Hockman-Chupp, analogy courtesy of Dr. Kali Miller

Tuning In

Sun, 15 Jul 2007 20:10:11 GMT

When my husband Ralf and I adopted our first child, Paul, in 1989, we knew virtually nothing about raising a child from another culture. We knew very little about Paul's birth country, had no connections with the Korean American community, and knew few Korean adoptive families. "Unprepared" doesn't begin to describe how little we knew about our impending parental experience. Looking back, it surprises me to remember just how unprepared we were!

That's not to say we weren't eager to learn. But even as recently as fifteen years ago, the focus of transcultural parenting was on the parenting more than the transcultural. The prevailing attitude at that time seemed to be to let things take their course, and to let our children guide us to the right amount of Korean-ness to weave into our family's fabric. There is a We were taught not to "force" Korean culture on our children. Discussion of genetic ties was practically nonexistent, and not unlike other adoptive parents, we felt safe adopting from Korea because there was less chance our children's first families could attempt to "reclaim" them. We became "tourist parents," got more familiar with Korean history, geography, and food, but didn't delve much deeper into the Korean American community than that. We were told that "love would conquer all," and that made us experts.

The wake up call came when Paul arrived at Washington National Airport in September 1989. When he was placed in our arms for the first time, everyone else in the airport literally faded away. The only ones who remained were Paul, my husband, me - and Paul's mother. Her presence was haunting - looking at him, I could picture her with the same eyes, him with the same mouth. Even if we never met, we were bound to one another in a way that no policy, social convention, or personal choice could ever change. How strange that this woman I had once feared in the abstract could become so real so quickly.

I was beginning to tune into reality, and a second experience in 1992 really opened my mind. A good friend and I had an opportunity to travel to Korea as escorts for our adoption agency. In addition to a whirlwind tour of Seoul, our itinerary included visits to my children's birth towns - the Seoul suburb Seongnam (where Paul was born), and Jeongson in Gangwon-do (Mara's birth town).

We visited Jeongson on a sunny October Sunday. We took advantage of a beautiful day with a leisurely stroll through the town. It's hard to explain how wonderfully ordinary Jeongson is. Apart from the gorgeous mountainous countryside that literally rings the town, there's little else to distinguish it. We passed shops, apartments, a small hotel, the police station, city hall, and a market.�Laughing children rode by on bikes, couples walked hand in hand, and music wafted out of open windows. Any one of them could have been a neighbor or friend of our daughter's family, or even her mother herself. Leaving was painful, the thought of never returning harder still.

I realized suddenly that this place, these people could have been our daughter's life, had circumstances been different. But they were lost to her forever. Even if she returned one day, and even if returning brought her back to her family, she could never fully regain the life she would have known there. The enormity and gravity of those losses hit hard. After just one afternoon in Jeongson, Korean people and everyday Korean life could never again be brushed aside as distant concepts. They were real - and they were very, very good.

During the adoption process, adoptive parents and adoption professionals prefer to focus on the positive aspects of adoption. Yes, adoptive parents are told about the challenges our children would face if they stayed in Korea - lives on the fringes of society, lack of family and education, probable poverty. But by and large, the discussion stays with positive topics - forever families, parenting, and the good lives our children will have with us. The role of Korean culture in the family is raised, but in terms of adoptive parent choice. We are encouraged to incorporate Korean culture into our lives, but are also told that it is really up to us. And although the subject of making and maintaining contact with our children's first families comes up, it rarely goes beyond advice to send letters and photos to our children's Korean adoption agency files. Rarely are adoptive parents given opportunities to consider more open adoption experiences. Although they do occur with somewhat more frequency now, they are certainly not the norm.

The adoption community generally uses the fact that children gain a family as the primary justification for intercountry adoptions. It's a potent argument - in the case of Korean adoption, loving families and security on one side, an institutional childhood and fewer life opportunities on the other. Although domestic adoption in Korea is increasing, cultural biases make its advancement slow. And with few social services available to mothers and families who place children in adoption out of financial need, intercountry adoptions from Korea are likely to continue for the foreseeable future.

But the families and material advantages our children gain through adoption come at a high price - the loss of cultural heritage and genetic connections. Yet gaining an adoptive family and maintaining birth and cultural ties don't have to be mutually exclusive. How much healthier for the children when adoptive parents know, right from the start, that nurturing their children's cultural and genetic identity is as important as nurturing their physical and spiritual health. And how much healthier for the parents when they understand that they are the catalysts for reconnecting their children to what they have lost.

To be that catalyst, adoptive parents must acknowledge some things that we may not have anticipated would be part of our adoptive parenting experience.

We have to accept our children as individuals and as Korean Americans. Playing down their ethnicity and ignoring first first families isn't the way to do that - embracing their heritage and accepting that they have families in Korea is. Acknowledging our children's genetic connections doesn't lessen our parental status in any way, because we fulfill it when we make the choices that serve our children best. Loving and supporting them for who they are does just that.

We need to acknowledge the misfortunes that brought our children's parents to adoption, and from which we have benefited. We therefore have a responsibility to speak out in favor of improved social services in Korea so families on hard times don't have to relinquish their children. We must offer our support to mothers who choose to parent their children rather than place them in adoption, and we must also work toward increasing and improving domestic adoption in Korea and by Korean Americans.

We must encourage the professional adoption community to teach new parents the importance of nurturing their children's self-esteem by nurturing their ethnic identity. Parent preparation must include the tools to do it, too: like more agency post-placement resources, earlier Korean community connections, and networking with other adoptive families. Parents should be counseled to disclose the kind of descriptive information about themselves and their families that will give their children a better sense of their genetic roots. And they should also be made aware of possibilities of increased openness, through intermediary communication and earlier reunions.

We must remember that our children didn't choose to be taken from their families, country, language, and culture. Therefore, nurturing their heritage isn't our choice - it's our children's right.� I returned to Korean in 2001, this time with my family. We went to Seongnam and Jeongson, and together celebrated another step on our family's journey. It's hard to describe the look on our son's face as he stood in the hospital nursery he had been in at birth, or on our daughter's as we shopped in the market in we know her family must visit frequently. Priceless. We are planning to return in a couple of years, and who knows where the next steps will take us?

In the blink of an eye, Paul and Mara have turned 15 and 13. They still are forming their identities, sometimes trying new ones on like sweaters, other times lapsing into the same personalities they displayed as toddlers. But several things are clear: They know they are Korean and are proud of it. They know they are connected to family in Korea that we feel connected to, too. They know we encourage and support them in their search for their identities and roots. In the truest sense of the word, this is what family is all about.

First printed in KoreAm Journal in 2004, and updated here to reflect my current preference for the term "parent" or "first parent" as opposed to "birth parent."

Pendulum

Sun, 15 Jul 2007 21:05:07 GMT

I'm on a pendulum that's swinging from side to side, taking me with it.

On one side of the pendulum is a family. Husband, wife, children. The family lives comfortably; although not rich, they have enough. The children are active, do well in school, have friends and activities. They speak a language different from their homeland's, don't look like their parents, and share no ethnic heritage or genetic ties with them. But the family is happy, its members content to be related as they are.

On the other side of the pendulum is another family. I'm not sure who this family's members are, if there is a husband, wife, other children. I don't know how they live, whether or not they have have necessities and luxuries, or if they struggle. I do know that the family's members look much like one another and that they live in the country of their family's history. I also know this: That someone is missing from this family, a son or daughter who was parted from one or all of them. I also know that someone in this family wonders if they made the right decision all those years ago.

The pendulum swings back and forth. When it swings toward the first family - mine - I feel the deep happiness that comes with being a parent and living a typical family life. But when the pendulum swings toward the other, I feel conflict and pain. Without this family's loss, my family wouldn't exist.

Now, years later, a birth mother, birth father or birth family lives with a loss I cannot begin to comprehend. I can't change the past that led to their loss, but I can affect the future. And I can tell them this:

I acknowledge your pain
I recognize that you were pushed to your decision by circumstances beyond your control
I am sad that I have the parenting experience that is rightfully yours
I love our children with all my heart
I hope you meet and know them one day

Would my husband and I have still adopted had we known then what we know now? I honestly don't know. But to cast that decision in today's light would be a betrayal of the commitment I made to my children then to love them for all time.

And so the pendulum continues to swing.

Originally published at Third Mom.

Neurodevelopmental Reorganization

Mon, 16 Jul 2007 11:19:54 GMT

About six months after my child arrived home as an infant, I began to notice some subtle areas of concern. Issues with sleep, behavior, mood-although "normal" toddler behaviors, a factor frequently pointed out by friends with bio kids-were occurring with frequency, intensity and/or duration that I had never experienced with my other children. Reading about how in-utero stress, early separation, moves and transitions may have had an impact on the developing brain, I worried. Although my child had been in good foster care, it was still not permanent and certainly not the way anyone would choose to begin life. If professionals were correct, that the less-than-optimal early environment had wired the brain in unhealthy ways, I wanted to know what I could do to make changes, especially since the young brain was still in a highly malleable state.

We visited a neurodevelopmental center, where the practitioner explained some basics. The brain develops from the base, up. When a child has less-than-optimal beginnings--including separation from the birth parent, foster care, or institutionalization--the brain may wire in dysfunctional ways. She presented us information that described how wiring problems at various levels could lead to certain symptoms. When I read the symptom list, I quickly recognized symptoms that come up again and again on adoptive parenting lists: problems with attention, speech, behavior, attachment or sensory issues. Neurodevelopment Interrupted: Signs and Symptoms

Through a series of non-invasive tests-creeping, crawling, eye movement, cross-midline movement, walking, and more-a neurodevelopmentalist pinpoints areas of the brain that need attention. Children who begin life in less-than-optimal circumstances are often found to have wiring issues in the lower, more primitive neurological levels. The brain may have flooded with stress hormones in-utero. Early infancy may have been spent in transitional environments instead of a sensory-rich surrounding with a single known caregiver present consistently from the moment of birth. In the case of a child who has undergone trauma (including separation from the birth mother, moves & transitions) or medical issues, it's feasible that the fight/flight/freeze parts of the brain were activated for months on end...when other parts of the brain that have to do with self-control and regulation should have been developing. The brain may be developmentally immature...or may have wired in unhealthy ways. That doesn't mean the child isn't smart or that the child is immature in other ways...it simply means that the brain development was altered because of those early life experiences. Unfortunately, problems associated with lower brain levels may not show up until a child reaches school age and begins to depend on his cortex. The cortex, the higher-level "thinking" part of the brain, relies heavily on the lower, "foundations" of the brain. When blocks in the foundation are missing, the child may not be able to function at his maximum potential.

Yet adoptive parents have the ability to impact those primitive parts of the brain -- the earlier the better. Research demonstrates that the human brain has certain windows of opportunity in which the brain is more "plastic" and open to change. Although some professionals are learning about later windows, most agree that changes can be made more easily and with more success when a child is still young. Children who retain birth reflexes can be given daily exercises to diminish and eventually eliminate these primitive responses that, while needed at birth, are no longer necessary and can hamper development as a child ages. Lower levels of the brain can be "rewired" or reorganized through movement specifically targeting areas that are not functioning at optimal levels. Specific exercises can diminish the signals to the fight/flight/freeze centers and increase the pathways in the regulation centers.

When I first heard about the connection between behavior and movement, I wondered if I was being sold snake oil. The neurodevelopmentalist detected what to me seemed like very benign problems, things that I never would have noticed without her professional eye: uneven midline movements, eye tracking difficulties, slight imbalances (virtually imperceptible to me) in creeping and crawling. Yet she assured me that these indicators of my child's neurological function were directly tied to the emotional/behavioral issues we were seeing. She gave us a list of daily exercises including: creeping, crawling, patterning, sensory stimulation, vestibular movements, and masking. Over time, the exercises were modified based on our child's progress. It wasn't easy to complete the number of required repetitions, but we knew it was essential to the program's success.

And slowly but surely, we saw changes. Through a local support group, we came to know other adoptive families who were experiencing similar breakthroughs.

After just 7 months of work, one mom reports on the progress of her daughter:

"She has "graduated" from pons work (YIPEEE!!!!) and has made a lot of progress in her midbrain work, and residual birth reflexes are gone. One area that has really improved is her eye tracking. This improvement has had a great impact on her visual acuity--she had perfect vision at her well-child check-up. Since the pons seems to be functioning normally, she no longer has that constant "DANGER!!" warning going in her head. I've been able to use a question or statement to redirect her from an anxious downward spiral in the past few weeks. Before, she couldn't stop herself. In addition, her dominance (eye, ear, foot, tactile, writing) is all moving toward the right. Previously she was all over the board--left eared, right eyed distant, mixed eye close, mixed tactile, right handed, left footed.

Here is a partial list of some of the things she has done in the past 2 months (keep in mind that she has always been an obsessively cautious child): ridden her bike with no training wheels (undeterred by multiple crashes) ;-); slid down fire poles on play structures; swung upside down on trapezes; walked Boomer, some friends' German Shepard (she has been TERRIFIED of dogs--now she says, "Mom I'm still afraid of strange dogs, but Boomer is nice so I'm not afraid of him"); and gone to her first day of kindergarten with enthusiasm (just yesterday). She did great in K, aced her "Primary Literacy Assessment," and can't wait for next week. She has become so much more affectionate and snuggly. I'm so encouraged and have fallen head-over-heels-in-love with my first great love all over again."

Another parent shares about her son's success:

"Our therapist began requiring all of her clients (working on attachment/trauma issues related to adoption) to get a neurodevelopmental evaluation. She found that when her clients did a neurological reorganization program that impulse control issues resolved that weren't "cured" through therapy. My son used to have outbursts of anger. He whined constantly. No "normal" parenting methods seemed to curb this behavior. The neuro work in conjunction with therapy resolved it.

In addition, our son used to have inappropriate response to pain. Our neuro evaluator has taught us that pain response is rooted in the pons part of the brain...an area we've worked very hard on. He's gone from not noticing when stung by a bee to normal pain response. He went from regular nightmares, night terrors and nap terrors to none. New situations and changes used to be very stressful for him and are no longer a great cause for concern."

Another mom reports that while they first had a neurodevelopmental assessment in the hopes of helping her daughter's speech that the first improvement they noted was a surprise.

"[At our first reevaluation], there were some areas where our daughter had improved, but speech was not one of them. You may find it interesting that the areas we noticed involved how affectionate she was. She has always been sweet, but hugging and kissing and cuddling have never been part of her personality. Well, she is so much more affectionate now, even hugging sometimes on her own. She babbles much more now, and picks up on words that we say and will try to say them."

A local center provides support for families with older children who are working at neurological reorganization, as the process is even demonstrating success with teens and adults.

Two years into a neurodevelopmental reorganization program, our child is happy and healthy. We credit neurological reorganization as being one of the primary tools of healing.

Race, Culture and Adoptive Families

Tue, 17 Jul 2007 09:35:56 GMT

Respecting and nurturing my kids' Korean race and heritage is something I take seriously. It's my responsibility as an adoptive parent, something I have no right to ignore or dismiss based on my personal views on race or culture. Parental belief in a color-blind society or a single human race is no good reason to deny children contact with their culture and community, nor is the fact that they may, from time to time, exhibit little interest themselves.

So presuming you agree, how do you go about doing it?

I think the first place to start is to think about the purpose of your efforts. Is it to make your children experts in their folk culture? Or is it to empower them to take their places in their racial and ethnic communities here in the US?

Although learning about folk culture may certainly be one of many steps along the way, I believe it's the latter. And if you don't share your child's race or ethnicity, you won't be able to do this on your own. You're going to need a lot of help.

So where do you get that help? Lots and lots of places. If you're like my family, you may start by "tourist parenting" - doing all you can to absorb your child's culture from any available source. I think this is an important phase in any adoptive family's cultural training, but it shouldn't be the only or last phase. In our case it was a way to get our cultural "bearings," so to speak, but it was only the beginning.

When children start school, and their racial awareness increases (and with it, the possibility of racially-motivated teasing from others), the focus has to change from folk culture to community. And this is something you can't learn from books or movies - this is something that takes contact with the people who share your child's racial and ethnic background.

My family is fortunate to live in the DC area, which has a Korean American population close to 100,000. This has given us access to people, organizations, activities, and events that would otherwise be unavailable to us. It has also allowed us and our children to make friends who have in some cases become our children's mentors - our daughter's taekwondo coach, for example.

We've been able to connect with the Korean American community in many ways. For example, through a Korean adoption support organization I'm active with, Korean Focus, my family has made connections with the Korean American Coalition chapter in DC, and with the Korean American Youth Association, another community service organization. These organizations have welcomed adoptive families into their activities, and have given us opportunities to volunteer - to roll up our sleeves and work alongside them, not just to attend their events as guests. But if organizations aren't for you, you can certainly still find ways to make individual connections and friendships - through parents you meet at your children's school, through churches, and through your activities.

Adoptive parents struggle sometimes with the decision to attend culture school, culture camp, and other cultural activities. There has been some dialog, even debate, over the years as to the importance of these. My opinion is that the debate is unnecessary - there's always room for more culture, and culture school may be your best source for Korean language lessons. However, I don't think that attending camp or school can be where your efforts stop.

Which brings me to Korean language. As someone whose educational background is in foreign languages and applied linguistics, who taught German and ESL for eight years in the public schools and another two or three more in community and private adult ed programs, I can speak with some authority on this subject. And I recommend putting the effort into learning the language if you possibly can. However, I know from my non-Korean-speaking Korean American friends that learning Korean can be as challenging to them as it is to adoptive families. But it's one thing I would have tried to do differently if I had it to over again, because I have learned from many adoptees how frustrating it is to go to their birth country without the language. Don't forget that there may be sources for Korean language lessons in your community even if you don't have a culture school - adult education classes through your public school system, for example (which is where I'm taking lessons this semester), or even online and computer-aided courses (like Rosetta Stone - my son is learning Japanese with Rosetta Stone, and hopefully in a few months I can offer some feedback on how Level I went. Anyone have any experience with the Korean version?)

A word about keeping up with Korean and Korean American issues: do. In the internet age, this is easy. Korea.net, the Korea Herald, and the Korea Times are online (as are many other Korean and Asian periodicals), and some offer news updates to your mailbox. There are any number of magazines you can subscribe to - we get KoreAm, Korean Quarterly, and Audrey, but there are many more. And don't forget that Korean movies, TV and music are one of the best ways to learn about popular culture.

And go to Korea!!!

Originally published at Third Mom.

Race, Culture and Humility

Tue, 17 Jul 2007 09:40:36 GMT

In my intercountry adoption experience, the discussion of race and racism is often lost to the belief that a color-blind society is possible. Looking back on my early adoptive parenting years, I can honestly say that the subject of race was rarely broached, and if so, only superficially. You'll have to figure it out, we were told. Love will conquer all.

But race and racism are something that white transracial adoptive parents need to look squarely in the eye. And on this topic, our opinions mean nothing, our idealism is meaningless. Away from the coccoons of our families, our children will face a world that we have never experienced and never will.

I think the very first thing an adoptive family like mine needs to do is acknowledge reality: Two white people can't give their non-white children the experience they'll need to navigate our race-conscious and often overtly racist society. And since no one in my family is culturally Korean American, reaching out to the Korean American community has been the only way to bring our children into contact with those who can teach them. This has meant creating as many opportunities as possible for our kids to develop meaningful relationships with other Korean Americans, through the schools they attend and through their and our family's activities.

But there's a rub. For some, transracial adoption amounts to no more than white ownership of people of color, ill-guided altruism, white privilege at its worst. Adoptive parent attempts to join the race dialog may be rebuffed. And our efforts to embrace our children's ethnic heritage may be seen as cultural appropriation - deserving of criticism rather than affirmation; laughable, artificial, lame.

When this happens, it should also be no surprise that some white a-parents throw in the towel. After all, if every effort you make to support your child's heritage is criticized for one reason or another, why even try? But how sad for the children, who then grow to adulthood unaware of what they may face as adults in our color-conscious society, and locked into false identities that fail to acknowledge who they are.

It takes humility for white parents to recognize and accept the challenges of raising children of another race and culture. Humility to accept that racism exists; to recognize the inherent privilege we enjoy as white people; to get out of our comfort zones and into our children's communities; to defer to people of color on the line between embracing and appropriating our children's culture; and to recognize that no matter how hard we try, on one level or another we'll experience failure.

But if we can find this humility, our children will gain immeasurably. They'll gain knowledge of the culture and community they lost when they were adopted, and the confidence to claim these as their own - things that all the love in the world, including ours, can't give them.

Originally published at Third Mom.

The Neuropsychology of Bonding And Attachment Disorders

Wed, 18 Jul 2007 14:20:24 GMT

While the role of the Developmental Neuropsychologist is to evaluate intellectual-cognitive, memory processing, learning aptitude, and problem-solving strategies, a critical duty may actually be in the evaluation of a child's emotional integrity and perception of relationships. The interplay between neurocognitive development and emotions encompasses basic neurobiology which suggests that human emotions, reactions, interactions and attachments may be strongly mediated by a combination of genetic, neurochemical, neurocognitive and environmental factors. As there has been a tremendous amount of discussion regarding "attachment disorders" in the post-institutionalized child, the current psychological research focuses almost solely on the effects of deprivation and abandonment and the creation of an "attachment disorder" without a more detailed understanding of the role of innate neurocognitive functioning.

While abandonment and institutionalization most certainly has a profound impact on a child's ability to develop trust, bonding and security in newly adoptive relationships, an emphasis needs to be placed on the integrity of the post-institutionalized child's higher-level neurocognitive abilities with a comprehensive assessment regarding the availability of "innate skills" needed for bonding, attachment and the development of appropriate social-interactional and reciprocal behaviors. While many children with post-institutionalized attachment disorders may display a combination of unattached or even indiscriminant behaviors (Ames, 1997), many post-institutionalized children display a very intense pattern of behavioral dyscontrol; aggression and violence; destructiveness to self and others; a lack of cause-and-effect thinking; indiscriminant affections to strangers as evidenced by being inappropriately demanding and clingy; or a pattern of social withdrawal, isolation and maintaining a self-stimulating posture. A principle complaint from parents adopting an older child is that the child may be out of synchrony with their environment resulting in difficulties in providing management, structure and organization.

The concept of a "neuropsychologically-based attachment disorder" seems most appropriate for many post-institutionalized children, particularly the child who shows a history of high risk pre and post-natal factors which may have influenced neurocognitive development. For example, there is a documented interaction between growth parameters and neurologic competence in profoundly deprived institutional children assessed in Romanian institutions (Johnson and Federici et.al., 1999). Children who have shown documented medical and neurological impairments along with extended time in institutional settings typically display very pronounced impairments in the development of appropriate social-interactional skills. Combined with suspected impairments in neuropsychological abilities, behavioral patterns can often be quite aberrant and intense in nature, often overwhelming the newly adoptive family.

Therefore, it seems only appropriate to broaden the horizon when assessing children for bonding, attachment or general psychological dysfunction by including a comprehensive assessment of neurocognitive abilities or deficit patterns. As children from institutional settings are at highest risk for medical, neuropsychological and emotional problems, an assessment of only the psychological or behavioral manifestations provides only a partial understanding of the adjustment issues which often produce tremendous stress on the newly adoptive families and treatment providers attempting to intervene and provide services (Johnson, 1997; Federici, 1999).

Careful differential diagnosis regarding neuropsychological versus psychosocially-based attachment disorder can help provide newly adoptive families with better parameters of understanding the post institutionalized child. Additionally, neuropsychological and neurocognitive rehabilitation approaches should typically supersede solely psychological or psychiatric/pharmacological therapies as providing direct interventions and increasing speech and language, sensory-motor, abstractive logic and reasoning and, of greatest significance, visual-perceptual analytic abilities. These brain behavior interventions strengthen the post-institutionalized child's ability to adequately "perceive" and process human relationships, emotions, facial expressions, social cues, and the necessary sequential "steps" needed to move towards a more healthy level of bonding and attachment. Too often, children from institutional settings are quickly categorized as having either a "reactive attachment disorder" or modicum of psychiatric syndromes ranging from Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, varying types of depression and anxiety conditions or, very commonly, oppositional and conduct disorders or even autism/pervasive developmental disorders. While many of these psychiatric patterns may be co-morbid conditions, there needs to be a very aggressive but yet conservative approach in assessing the post-institutionalized child. Rank ordering developmental disabilities of the child as opposed to relying solely on the assessment of families or treatment providers may avoid misleading diagnoses and nonproductive therapeutic interventions.

Neuropsychological Evaluation and Rehabilitation of the Post Institutionalized Child

Wed, 18 Jul 2007 14:25:07 GMT

International adoptions have become prominent worldwide with the United States receiving the largest amount of immigrant visas issued to orphans. Eastern European countries, particularly the former Soviet Union and Romania, have been attracting families from all over the world due to the high volume of available children with desirable ages, ratio characteristics, and the definitive aspect of parental rights termination which has been a subject of recent controversy in the United States. Recently, there have been landmark cases in the United States overturning long-term custody of the adoptive parents due to the resurgent interest of the biological parents years later. In general, families completing international adoptions find the procedures much more expedient and cost effective as opposed to waiting on a list for infants in the United States which can be years of waiting, or the worrisome possibility of adopting an older child who has a clear documented history of abuse and neglect. Another motivation for families moving towards international adoptions has been media presentations worldwide which have highlighted deprived children residing in Eastern European institutions. Thousands of families have flocked to these countries with the hopes of rescuing a child from life-long institutionalization.

Interest in the post-institutionalized child has gained great attention in all medical and psychological disciplines throughout the United States and in the United Kingdom. International adoption clinics have surfaced throughout the United States following pioneering efforts by Dana Johnson, M.D., Ph.D. of the University of Minnesota, International Adoption Clinic; and Laurie Miller, M.D., Director of the International Adoption Clinic at the Floating Hospital for Children in Boston, Massachusetts. As there has been a significant increase in the amount of internationally adopted children coming to the United States (up nearly 130% since 1990), the need for international adoption medical specialists has surfaced. Specialists from all disciplines of pediatrics and developmental psychology have been on the forefront of evaluating internationally adopted children of all ages. Research has shown the long-term neuropsychological and neurocognitive status of these children can often present a challenge to adoptive families as the "hidden disabilities" of the effects of institutionalization may not surface until the child is of school age.

Post-institutionalized children have been exposed to a volume of high risk pre and post-natal factors such as poor maternal care, malnutrition, fetal alcohol exposure, smoking, neurotoxins, infections, prematurity, low birth weight, and a host of other potential complications. Goldfarb (1943), Bowlby (1951) and Spitz (1945) have clearly defined the effects of institutionalization or "hospitalism" as being strong contributing factors to later neurocognitive and emotional problems, particularly bonding and attachment deficits. Johnson (et.al., 1997) along with numerous medical researchers have intensely researched the health status of children from the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe and have further documented the high risk factors which may impact later cognitive, learning and emotional performance. Rutter (1998) discusses developmental catch-up and deficits following adoptions after severe global early deprivation and finds a strong tendency towards resilience and short-term catch-up in the younger child group (adoptions completed prior to 25 months). Rutter goes on to explain that global cognitive improvement over the long course of time is still an unknown factor in many of the Romanian adoptees who have been exposed to high risk factors.

There is controversy regarding assessment and treatment procedures for the post-institutionalized child. Many professionals believe that the effects of institutionalization and deprivation will spontaneously abate and a "wait and see" is adopted in addition to the ideology that parents should "give the child time to adjust" as opposed to implementing aggressive assessment or premature diagnoses of handicapping cognitive or emotional conditions. Federici (1998) has emphasized the importance of immediate and aggressive neuropsychological and neurodevelopmental evaluations for all children, particularly the older post-institutionalized child who may present with very prominent behavioral and adjustment difficulties, whereas the child under the age of 24 months requires time to re-stimulate and reattach. Evaluations in the child's native language are of paramount importance. Many families worldwide are adopting children greater than 4 years of age and often find the child very challenging from the first day of adoption although may have been advised by various professionals or agency personnel that there needs to be this "adjustment period" and a family system emphasizing intensive stimulation, love and bonding in order to promote "developmental catch up" and normal family adjustment.

Given the research and current understanding regarding the damaging effects of institutionalization and the numerous high risk medical factors which may lead to neurocognitive and emotional delays and deficits, the need for aggressive neurodevelopmental and neuropsychological assessment of impairments followed by aggressive neurocognitive and psychological rehabilitation appears to be a necessary inter-vention for children coming from profoundly depriving backgrounds. While long-term follow up regarding the internationally adopted child are still being gathered, early information strongly suggests both neuropsychological and emotional sequalae of institutionalization for a large percentage of children being adopted at an age greater than 4 years. While many children appear to have been unscathed as the result of institutionalization, Johnson (1997) suggests that children who have resided in institutional care become a high risk population. Early intervention programs appear to be a critical factor in promoting optimal development and recovery from institutional damage although many "delays" may be chronic and static in nature.

Presented at the Conference for Children and Residential Care

Stockholm, Sweden

Institutional Autism: An Acquired Syndrome

Wed, 18 Jul 2007 14:30:35 GMT

The Tragic Downward Spiral of Institutionalization

Comprehensive medical and neuropsychological evaluation helps define current and future needs of the post-institutionalized child. Many children who have resided in very deprived institutional environments may present with a pattern of autistic-type behaviors which can often present as being overwhelming and confusing to newly adoptive families and treatment providers. Pervasive Developmental Disorders and autistic spectrum disorders typically involve biological and genetic abnormalities; coexisting mental retardation; varying levels of speech/language; motor and sensory impairments; stereotypic movements and ADHD patterns; obsessive-compulsive behaviors; and varying levels of impairments in social-reciprocal relationships. Newer findings in the causes and treatment of autism are focusing on a multi-factorial approach in the assessment and treatment with extra emphasis on understanding dopaminergic and serotonergic systems relevant to the pathophysiology of pervasive developmental disorders (Potenza, 1997).

A child with multi-sensory neurodevelopmental delays can often be diagnosed as having mental retardation with coexisting autistic spectrum disorder. Many children from post-institutionalized settings live in an environment where there is a mix of neurologically delayed children with children who have been abandoned and neglected. While there is certainly a high incidence of children with classic neurologic disorders and neurogenetically-based autism or mental retardation, careful research and evaluation of children residing in Romanian institutions have strongly suggested a pattern of atypical autism that may be related to institutionalization or an "Acquired Syndrome" (Federici, 1996, 1998). While accurate statistics are not yet available, more cases of atypical autism in post-institutionalized children are being reported by families and treatment providers around the world.

Rutter (1998) discusses Quasi-Autistic Patterns following global privation in Romanian and Eastern European orphans. Rutter discusses "autistic features" which were evident in children raised in severely deprived environments, with these features being very similar in some respects to those found in "ordinary" autism. These quasi-autistic patterns were found to be associated with prolonged deprivation and grossly interfered with the ability of the child to develop appropriate attachments and reach optimal cognitive potential.

A child's neurocognitive and emotional development rapidly moves towards a downward spiral following extended time in an institution. Hopelessness and helplessness sets in, with an increase in anger, frustration and extreme loneliness and despair. For children who have a relative degree of cognitive and emotional stability at the time of institutionalization, these relative "skills" can often be compromised following an ongoing lack of human contact and stimulation, or a chronic exposure to children having significantly more neurocognitive and neurodevelopmental impairments. In particular, children who may show classic autism or mental retardation in an institutional setting typically have very pronounced self-stimulating behaviors and rituals which tend to be automatic neurologic responses, whereas the relatively stronger institutionalized child may develop or "imitate" these responses over time as a way of finding a degree of social interaction, attachment and mode of passing time. These ritualistic behavior patterns may also serve to "detach and defend" against profound anaclytic depression and despair (Spitz, 1945).

More specifically, as children in institutional settings become more resigned to the pattern of despair, trauma, emptiness and true "detachment" from an outside world, a loss of developing motor, sensory and intellectual-cognitive skills ensues. Regression begins and becomes an insidious pattern. While there may be no precise measure to assess how long this regression (and loss) of neurocognitive abilities may take, estimates suggest that for every two months of institutionalization that a child may be delayed one month in cognitive and emotional skills (Johnson 1997).

Federici postulates that, as a child's memory of the few positive experiences of life gradually fades away, he or she may regress to the most infantile (safe) stages of development. This regression can ultimately lead to a very infantile and autistic state in which the child exhibits an emotionally detached and preoccupied personality structure and presentation which is virtually indistinguishable from classic autism.

Additional characteristics of Institutional Autism (or an "Acquired Syndrome"), are as follows:

Actual loss of physical height, weight and growth in the absence of a documented neurological condition. The profound negative effects of malnutrition, untreated medical problems and social deprivation may result in a degree of psychosocial dwarfism.

The child does not look to be anywhere near their actual age, nor is the sex of the child easily discerned.

A cessation of current language functioning with a documented history of appropriate language usage.

Rapid deterioration of behaviors to the point where the child exhibits primitive acting out behaviors due to profound attachment disorder and institutional trauma.

Profound nutritional and medical neglect over the course of years which may mediate body and brain development with the gradual emergence of an organic brain syndrome impairing language, attention and concentration, development of confusional behaviors and deficiencies in memory and learning.

Complete regression to self-stimulating behaviors such as rocking, head banging, hair pulling, self-injurious behaviors, and institutional language.

Regression and "detachment" from relative healthy and normal human contact to an "attachment" to others with similar pathology. This "group model" represents survival in an alternate form of social-interaction based on modeling, imitation and developing any type of attachment in order to survive institutional life.

Improvement in autistic symptoms following removal of trauma and with cognitive and emotional rehabilitation. Resurgence of autistic symptoms upon returning to institutional environment.

In promoting a better understanding of this unique and highly complex institutional autistic syndrome, families may be better prepared to adopt and raise an older child from an institutional setting. Furthermore, more in-depth understanding of a potentially institutionally autistic child may help neuropsychologists and allied medical and mental health professionals appreciate the impact of institutional effects on neurologic and psychologic functioning which is then altered over the course of time. Awareness of acute and chronic trauma on brain behavior relationships may expedite the implementation of cognitive rehabilitation strategies to be used by families immediately after adopting a post-institutionalized child.

In summary, comprehensive neuropsychological evaluation and proper understanding of the post-institutionalized (potentially traumatized) child may help develop an assessment and treatment model as current neurological and psychiatric categorization often does not allow for the nuances of atypical patterns. The complexities of many internationally adopted children has now presented families with a new set of challenges requiring multidiscipline interventions.

Building the Bonds

Thu, 19 Jul 2007 08:58:49 GMT

OUR SON

Our first toddler adoption was a little boy from Korea.� When his foster mother handed him off to me, she cried, and I cried.�� He barely whimpered. I felt relieved that he took to me so easily. I carried him in a baby carrier and slept with him at night. By the time we left Korea, I figured we were on our way to good attachment.

Once home, I carried him frequently, rocked him at bedtime, and slept with him at night if he woke crying. When he woke�at night,�he howled if I held him close.� He preferred to rest his head on my forearm, his body a careful 12 inches from mine. Just adjustment pangs, I thought, confident he'd soon warm up to me.

After a month, he was still stand-offish, and I was frustrated. Why didn't he feel more comfortable with me?� I blamed myself. Worked harder. Hugged him more. But he still remained standoffish.� And just as troubling, it seemed that my usuall in-love, mommy feelings-- the ones that had come so easily with my other five children -- just�wouldn't come.

�After reading about toddlers and attachment, I paid closer attention to his behavior. He would whine to be picked up, then arch away and slither down my hip, or he'd lean limply outward, making his 23-pound body feel like lead. On my lap, he leaned far away. If I didn't hang on, he would tumble off. And when I hugged him, he cried and thrashed as though my hugs were torture.

If I smiled at him, his eyes skittered away. If I tickled him, he resisted laughter with every iota of his being. He seemed constitutionally opposed to having fun with Mom. Not only that, he'd pinch tiny bits of skin on my arm, or pull one hair on my head-accidentally, I first thought. Except that those things happened too often to be accidental.

None of this was big stuff. But considered together, it left me with a constant low-level irritation and a feeling of being rejected. When I recognized his behaviors as a sign of attachment difficulties, I was both scared and relieved.

There was a reason I was struggling with my feelings towards him. I wasn't a rotten mom. I felt differently about him because he wasn't doing his part in the dance of attachment.

� Attachment, after all, is a relationship-a two-way street. A mother falls in love with her infant partly because of the lovable things the baby does-nestling in, quieting when being cuddled, enjoying being fed, smiling and cooing, preferring Mom above everyone.

So why was he so resistant? It wasn't because he was a rotten kid.� No.� It was fear, plain and simple. He'd spent his first seven months of life in a hospital, with no chance to become attached to anyone. His next 13 months had been with his foster mom, who handed him to a stranger-me-and walked away.

He feared losing another mommy, so he was doing everything he could to make himself unlovable. Resisting hugs, avoiding eye contact-it was all self-protection.

It broke my heart to realize how wounded he was. But it also spurred me to act. Since we'd missed out on his infancy, I decided we would redo some of it. I treated him like a much younger child. He went everywhere with me. I slept with him. I fed him bites at mealtime and bottles at bedtime. I played on the floor with him. I began rocking and holding him close every day, giving him kisses and reassurances that I would always be there.

This cuddle time made him cry -- he resisted it fiercely at first.�� But I persevered.� And�each day, as I cradled him and told him how much I loved him and wiped away his tears, I found myself truly falling in love.

I still second-guessed myself often. It was tough, tiring work, and I worried that stirring up so much emotion wasn't good for him. But�each day�after being held and allowed to cry his sadness out, his spirit unfailingly seemed lighter. He seemed relieved that I'd stuck with him through his tears.

His eyes sparkled. He accepted cuddles. He was playful. He'd have hours or days of better behavior, and I'd get glimpses of the child he could be. Over the days and weeks, cuddling bothered him less and less.� His rage subsided.� He even began to seek out hugs and love.�

I still remember exactly where I was when he came and climbed into my lap and asked for a hug all on hs own.�� It was possibly the sweetest hug I ever got in my life.

After six months, I could look back and see how far we'd come. We still had work to do, but by then he was so much better-more loving, giving hugs, sharing laughs with me. It was harder and slower than I ever imagined, but completely worth it.

Now, at age nine, he is a normal well attached, happy kid.�� Recently he was playing a game with cousins where you had to answer questions.�� Everyone was asked what they loved.�� Other kids said ice cream and pizza.� He said, "I love my mom."�

OUR DAUGHTER

Three years after our son came home, we decided to adopt another child. When we were referred a 10-month-old girl from Ethiopia, I hesitated. I had hoped for a younger infant. Even though our son at that point was doing well, I was so afraid of dealing with attachment problems again.

But when my husband saw that picture, he knew in his heart he was looking at his daughter.� Bolstered by my husband's certainty, I added my signature to the referral papers, and prayed everything would be okay.

A month later, our agency's director visited Ethiopia and decided that our daughter was probably six months older than the original estimate. Estimated age on homecoming: 20 months. Exactly the age our son had been.

My heart clutched. Yes, we had gotten through it with our son, but, oh, I did not want to go through those highs and lows again. I cried for days over that new birth date, even though I knew that a number on a piece of paper didn't really change the child. She was the age that she was, and in spite of my fear, by that point I also was convinced she was meant to be ours.

I gave myself pep talks.� Our experience with our son made us better equipped to parent a child with attachment issues. I reread my favorite books on attachment and gathered my courage.

And then came our daughter. After living with her birth family for her first year of life, our daughter had spent the next 10 months in a busy Catholic orphanage. She was one of 15 or so toddlers in a tiny, crowded room with one or two caregivers. Halfway through her stay there, she was moved to a different room with different caregivers, but the same overcrowded conditions. Not an ideal start at life.

The day the nuns handed her to us, she was very still. She barely moved for two days, just watching us. Then she began reaching her arms out to me. I carried her everywhere, fed her bottles, and slept with her at night. By the fourth day she had turned into a sparkly, delightful cuddle-bunny.

For weeks I waited for the honeymoon to end, but it never did. When she had been home seven months, while cuddling at naptime, she said to me, "Thank you, mommy. Thank you, happy, me."

She came to me with an open little heart, fell in love with me immediately, and never let go. I know now what a gift that is.

I still wonder why our two children responded so differently to the trauma in their lives. Maybe our daughter had excellent nurturing in her first year, and that's what carried her through those long months in the orphanage. Maybe our son found those first seven months in the hospital so traumatic that he was unable to bond with his foster mom. Then again, our daughter is a people person, and our son is more reserved.

�Maybe it simply comes down to personality. We'll never know for sure. We do know, however, that we are tremendously grateful-for our son's healed heart and for our daughter's miraculously unbroken one. Though their adjustments were very different, both children were meant for our family.

Making a Difference in the World

Thu, 19 Jul 2007 09:21:49 GMT

This morning I read a post on a friend's blog describing a kind of restlessness she feels.� I could really relate to what she wrote.

John and I have recently been having similar discussions about Ethiopia, wondering if there is something we could do there that would be truly meaningful, and in a bigger way than just through adoption. Adoption is huge for a few children, and we are so grateful to be able to do that. But adoption doesn't touch the true need in Ethiopia.

In the reading I've done about poverty and disease (The End of Poverty by Jeffrey Sachs, Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder), it seems that most experts have concluded that monthly food hand-outs and bundles of hand-me-downs from first-world countries aren't the answer.

Poverty-stricken communities need the opportunity to help themselves. To do that, they have to be healthy enough to work, and they need basic things like clean water and affordable schools and health care to be freely available.

John and I have wondered if there is truly a way that we could do something lasting- something that would truly impact a poverty-stricken community in a positive way. We keep coming back to the water thing. Can you imagine being productive if you had to walk three hours a day just to get your family's water supply?

I read about a couple who retired to Africa, where they supervise the drilling of wells in poverty-stricken communities. John and I talked about how neat it would be to go to the communities where our Ethiopian daughters were born (Wollaitta, Ethiopia and Harar, Ethiopia) and drill wells. Even just a well or two in the most poverty-stricken parts of both towns seems like it would make a difference for a lot of people...

It sounds like a stretch to me.part of me thinks we're being grandiose to think we could make a meaningful difference. And there are so many unanswered questions.� Where would we get the money?� Would our children understand?�� Would they be safe?

To tell the truth, I'm not sure if I'd want to live in Ethiopia full-time. I'm an air-conditioning, hot showers, and microwave kind of gal. And yet I do know I want to do something.� Maybe�a three month mission trip�would be�more my speed.� We'll keep on thinking, and praying, and dreaming.� Who knows what doors will open in the future?

Educating My Daughter

Sat, 21 Jul 2007 06:51:17 GMT

When I adopted my daughter Alesia in 2004 she was 13 years old.I knoew school would be a challenge for her, but I never imagined the hassles I would face from educators and an indifferent school.

I had met her when my choir sang at her orphanage in 2003, and instantly knew she was my daughter. I thought she was about 7 years old and was astonished to learn she was 11. She was so tiny. I decided that no matter what the challenges, she was meant to be my child, and went ahead with the adoption. Alesia has made an amazing transition and she is a wonderful child. There have been challenges, but I wouldn't trade her for anything.

Alesia is a very smart, creative girl. She figured out the remote controls on my TV the first hour she was home. She can fix anything around the house. She loves to take materials around the house and make things - without any prompting from me. She likes Kleenex boxes. She makes photo frames from them. She took a Barbie stand and fixed it with pieces of coathangar to hold her jewelry. She made a little basketball hoop for her little brother the first day he was home. So I know she is highly intelligent.

We live in an area with good public schools nearby. When I enrolled her in school, she was tested in Russian, and placed in 7th grade. She was in 7th grade in Russia, so I thought it made sense. There was a 6 week intensive ESL program for several hours a day, right at first. Her communication skills grew tremendously. I was told after that, she was given a lot of breaks in class, because the teachers didn't expect her to be able to comprehend everything in English.

The first summer she was home was 2005. We had just moved into a house with my mother. We planned to tutor Alesia intensively that first summer, so she could keep up in 8th grade. My mother fell and broke both shoulders, and there was no tutoring possible. The whole summer was a nightmare of hospital and nursing home care, then a huge amount of in-home care. I was working full-time. So Alesia's tutoring just didn't happen.

By the time Alesia had been in 8th grade just a few weeks, I knew something was terribly wrong. She could speak English pretty well. She couldn't really do her schoolwork, though. I would re-teach her everything, every night when I got home from work. Mother helped her, too. She just didn't "get" it. We worked one night on Thomas Edison. I talked and talked about him. We read about him.After breaking for dinner, I asked Alesia what he invented. "New York and Chicago?" she replied. My heart sank.

I talked to her teachers. They said she was fine, it was just a language issue. I knew they were wrong. I talked to a friend who is a teacher. She urged me to push to get Alesia help. The school flatly refused to test her for learning disabilities. I had her tested at Sylvan in January. They said her reading was barely on 2nd grade level. The teachers at school kept grading her based on "how hard she tried" and ignoring her real issues. I finally got a meeting with the school psychologist in the spring, and he refused to give her an IEP or test her for disabilities.

I was so frustrated. I talked to the school board about getting Alesia the help she needed. They wouldn't help me - even though my county has all kinds of programs for kids that are special needs, that are violent, that get pregnant, etc. I talked to the principal of a charter school that helps immigrant children with language issues. He refused to admit Alesia because she would be older than the other kids by a couple of years.

I enrolled Alesia in a tutoring program called Kumon. It helped her some, but I didn't feel it really worked that well, for her.

Finally, I had Alesia tested for learning disabilities. She has an auditory processing disorder. Finally, there was a name to it! I enrolled her in Lindamood Bell, a program that specializes in tutoring kids with learning disabilities and increasing their reading and math skills. She bloomed. Her reading comprehension went from 2nd grade to 6th grade. She even talked more clearly, after just a couple of tutoring sessions. The change was remarkable.

I had to take Alesia out of school and homeschool her last year. She didn't pass the test to go to high school and I didn't feel she was ready. The school offered no remedial help - just a repeat of 8th grade. At great expense, I hired tutors and Alesia worked through the lower grade curriculums for months. She did really well, despite the Auditory Processing Disorder.

In a few weeks, my bright beautiful daughter starts high school. She reads all the time now, for fun. She loves to learn. I think she will be fine. I have already asked for an IEP, and now they have to give me one because she has a documented learning disability.

What parents of older kids have to do is to become advocates for their children. Even a good school doesn't know YOUR child. You have to insist on the right care, test them, find tutors - do whatever it takes. Never assume the school will do the right thing - they don't know your child like you do.

� Dee Thompson, 2007

Dealing with Nosy Questions

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 14:21:41 GMT

The guy in the pharmacy waiting room pushed me over the edge. My daughter Alice, a sweet but rambunctious toddler, was having a timeout in one of the vinyl seats, occasioned by her urge to run away from mommy in the store. I kept one eye on Alice and the other on the pharmacist who was filling our prescription.

The waiting area was empty except for us and a pleasant-looking, fortysomething man. Predictably, the questions started.

"Is she adopted? Where's she from? How long have you had her? Was it really expensive to adopt her? Isn't it a shame how people in some countries just throw away their girls?"

On and on the interrogation rolled, undeterred by my terseness. The man seemed completely unaware that he was probing into parts of our lives that we have every right to keep private. How does one deal with a person whose idea of small talk is telling a 2-year-old that she was "thrown away?"

Mercifully, the pharmacist called me to the counter. As I completed my transaction, I kicked myself for even answering the man. A person with a legitimate need for information about international adoption deserved more than I could give in two minutes. A person who was simply indulging his curiosity deserved much less.

Families formed through transracial adoption, whether international or domestic, are naturally conspicuous. Most people who adopt across ethnic boundaries love to talk about it, given appropriate circumstances. Our children are cherished; they have filled our hearts with joy.

We teach them about adoption; we attend playgroups where they can meet other similar families. We advocate for our children in schools. We locate resources and role models that will help our children balance their birth cultures with their American lives. Despite our best efforts, the incessant questions from strangers chip away at our foundations.

At home, we're telling our children that adoption is a special way of creating a family, and that their birth cultures are something to celebrate. Meanwhile, repeated encounters with people like the man in the pharmacy send them a different message. The message is that our children are peculiar; that their families are not normal; that the people whose DNA they share are barbaric.

And, often, that the kids are "lucky" to be adopted by "would-be saints" such as their parents. These negative messages are usually, but not always, unintentional. People have an instinct for categorization; when they see situations that don't fit the norm, they comment. Most exchanges are harmless. But the cumulative effect is to undermine the legitimacy of our families.

We knew that our decision to adopt transracially would mean kissing our cozy anonymity goodbye. But our daughter never volunteered for this ride. And people often speak to us as if our child is deaf-as if she does not hear and internalize conversations that go on around her. So I'm printing up business cards with contact information for our adoption agency and several good Internet sites. The next stranger who plies me with private questions in a public place is going to get one, with the comment, "Oh, if you're interested in adoption, here are some excellent resources."

When Alice is old enough, we'll discuss whether she wants to handle inquisitive strangers or prefers us to run interference. And we'll teach her ways to respond without revealing information that is hers alone. Meanwhile, don't be surprised if you meet me in the check-out line and I politely decline to recite our family history when you ask, "Is she adopted?"

Alice is not a public exhibit. She deserves to be protected from adult questions that subtly invalidate her family's right to exist. Alice was adopted, once upon a time. But now she is simply my child and our hearts are knit as tightly as any parent's and child's can be.

Julie Higginbotham and her family live in Chicago. This article originally appeared in Adoptive Families Magazine.

Quietly Mothering

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 14:46:46 GMT

Open Adoption Birthmotherhood is interesting, especially when visits are involved. I find myself often feeling motherly towards Ariana, even prior to the birth of Nicholas which brought out a whole new realm of Mom-type-emotion.

Upon our first visit, which was when Munchkin was roughly four months old, an overwhelmed Me walked into Jeff and Denise's home, taking in the home of where my Baby Girl was being raised. I found her sleeping, peacefully, though we were making quite a ruckus, on her playmat in the middle of the living room floor. I knelt before her, awestruck by both her beauty and how much she had grown in such a relatively short amount of time. She was no longer the wrinkly, pucker-faced little newborn. She was now an adorably dressed, full-bodied, curly-haired baby. This was my first experience in thinking, "They grow so fast."

True, I had been sent many pictures between her birth and that first visit. But pictures don't always feel real. Part of me has always felt as though I was staring at some other woman's child, not my own. To see her, so beautiful, in front of my face, in live, three dimensional being, I was overwhelmed with a sense of love. And pride.

And then it happened.

One of the reasons I placed was an all-consuming fear that I wouldn't know how to be a Mother. No one told me that you learn all of the "Motherly-type-things" once you become a Mom; it happens, instinctively. Once Nicholas was born, I realized that you just know how to wake up in the middle of the night, change a diaper with your eyes half shut and half-sleep your way through a feeding. I thought that, since I wasn't feeling overly happy during my pregnancy, that I would never learn to love my child. No one explained that an unplanned pregnancy can bring ambiguous feelings and stress but that, yes, you will be able to love your child more than anything you've ever known.

So, as I sat staring at this beautiful child, the dog bounded into the room, excited to see company. While Jeff and Denise tried to calm the dog down, she jumped over Munchkin, knicking her face with one of her dog-fingernails. Immediately, before Ariana could even open her eyes and begin crying (which she did), I scooped her up and cuddled her close to my chest.

The feeling was indescribable. And so very confusing.

Here I was, holding my child to calm her down and soothe her pain and it felt so very right, so very natural. It was then that I realized, oh, it is an instinctual feeling. You do just "get it." It was at that moment that I began to feel a sadness creep over my soul. My eyes were just then beginning to open to the many lies that I had told myself or let myself believe about my ability to parent. I would have been a fine Mom, just strapped for cash. I could have learned the same things that every other parent learns by the seat of their pants. (Because, how can you learn to do it until you do it? Right? Right.) And the love, so natural, was always there, I was just scared to open my heart to any of it.

And so, now on visits, I have to walk that fine line between being a birthmother and being a Mother. Munchkin is not my child to say, "No, we don't hit people." It feels weird to sit idly by while someone who came forth from my body is parented by people she refers to as Mommy and Daddy. I often sit, quietly Mothering in my head, and say, "No, no, Ariana. It's okay. Come to Mommy, I'll make it all better." Yet, to tell her to go to her Mommy, she would walk in the opposite direction of me and it is simply something I have to live with; it's just the way it is.

(Originally published at The Chronicles of Munchkin Land in January 2006.)

Getting Real

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 14:48:28 GMT

"What happened to your REAL family?"

The classic playground question -- to which the adoptive parent often replies (and coaches the adopted child to reply) that of course, the adoptive parents are the real ones. Well, sure we are. But so are those people who birthed our children.

Sometimes I think the syndrome of adoptive-parent reluctance to allow the term "real" to be used for any parent but the a-parent goes hand-in-hand with the a-parent's terror regarding the idea that their child/ren may someday want to search for their biological (genetic, first, birth, real....) parents. I'm working hard to talk the talk regarding support of search and hope that, when and if push comes to shove, I'll also be ready to walk that walk with my kids.

I hope by the time the issue arises I'll feel strong and ready to support my kids, always repeating the mantra, "it's not about me, it's not about me...." Acknowledging that my kids' first parents are real, and really important, is an early and crucial step in that journey. I sometimes wonder how much our fear of sharing the term "real" (or "mother" or "father") with the birthparents stems from a root insecurity about our own right to be parents.

As one who struggled with infertility, I believe this can be a particular problem for adoptive parents who have never made biological children, because then the whole infertility/insecurity syndrome gets thrown into the mix. (But infertile parents don't have an exclusive on the behavior pattern.) If you're trying to be an effective a-parent of an internationally/transracially adopted child, I've learned, you're better off accepting and openly acknowledging several tough truths, to wit:

Your child had a life before the adoption.
Your child's biological parents are absolutely as real as you, the a-parent -- even if you've never seen them and in fact are currently unable to get information about them. Your child has a right to call them whatever your child likes. You're real, but they're also plenty real, just like your child is real. Conceiving and birthing a child are huge, real things, just like daily parenting is a huge, real thing. Why not acknowledge all that with your child at a young age, instead of letting this term get to be so loaded by stubbornly insisting that you're the only "real" one? Your child's ultimately going to use the terms he/she prefers anyway, regardless of the words you teach and use.

Adoption can be a band-aid for a problem, but it's not a perfect fix. Your child may always feel a hole... the lack of information and daily contact with genetic family ... and for some kids, that's a huge hole. For some kids, not. But the hole is not about YOU, the a-parent. It's about your child and your child's first parents. Don't try to come between them, or even between your child and the "ghost" of those folks, if the real people aren't accessible. You can acknowledge and support the child's feelings about the lack, whatever those feelings are, but you'll never be able to fill that hole -- you're not the right shape. It's not your fault; that's just the way adoption is.

A second big loss of international adoption is loss of the right to navigate and understand the birth country as a native. Do whatever you can to acknowledge and remedy that loss, but don't ever pretend it doesn't really matter. Don't allow yourself to believe that the joys of being Western and speaking English (or whatever) like a native and having a middle-class (or better) upbringing make up for that loss. They don't. To be an adoptive parent means, in a deep sense, that you are always sharing your role -- and this is true even if your sharing is only psychological, rather than sharing time with a bio-parent-on-the-scene. Parents who are raising their biological kids don't have to do this, and it's a hard thing. It's a knife in some ways--that lack of full "ownership" of your child and your child's filial love. (Even though, of course, no earthly person truly "owns" the child, not even a biological parent.)

Nevertheless, you must come to some kind of inner peace about that sharing -- and to openly acknowledge that you know you're sharing, and that your child can have very strong (sad/mad/glad/whatever) feelings about the first family, and that this is all OKAY. This heart-work has to be done if you're not going to become toxic as a family, to some degree.

International adoption has turned me into a much more grown-up person than I ever was, and I say this as someone who came to it pretty late (39) and after a lot of prior heartbreak. It can be a slow process, and painful, but it is possible to move from a place of ignorance/naivete to a place of more understanding. I think many people are willing to learn for the sake of their kids -- though it sometimes takes a long, long time. In the tale of the Velveteen Rabbit, being deeply loved is what makes the rabbit "real." May we all love our children so deeply that we're willing to expand our ideas about who a real parent is, and create a family circle that encompassess all aspects of who our children have been, are, and will become. Julie Higginbotham

I Cannot

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 14:55:52 GMT

I cannot change the past. What has happend is forever a part of history, our life stories merging with one another through choices, lack of choice, circumstance, fate and love.

I cannot change how I feel. That isn't to say that how I feel doesn't change; it does. But all of the pointing out how what I feel is wrong won't make me magically see the light. My experience, which I cannot change, have shaped those feelings. I feel because I have been.

I cannot change your own reality. For I cannot change your past. I cannot change how you feel; that is up to you to do through your experience, your choices, your lack of choice, your circumstance, your fate and your love. Your passion. How I live my life, how I love my children and how I accept my reality doesn't change your reality unless you let it. I am not responsible for your choices, your lack of choices, your circumstances, your fate or your love. I can only tell you of my reality.

I cannot predict the future. I don't know how my children will react to my reality in the years to come. Yet as I just said, I cannot change their reality. As they grow, mature and make their own choices and accept their circumstance in life, they will form their own realities. How that includes or discludes me will be up to them; my reality will be to accept their own. My reality is raising them with the knowledge to make those future choices, whatever they may be.

I cannot stop wanting change. For all of the things that I cannot change, I yearn for it. I beg for it at night. I plead for it in my prayers. I push for it in my words, knowing full well that I cannot force you to believe, feel or change anything about your own reality. Even still, with that knowledge, I want that change. I want my children to live in a world, someday, where they don't have to be ashamed to say, "My sister was adopted but we're still siblings even if she does have boogers," and, "My Mom raised my brother but not me but it's okay because we're all kinda kooky, even the awesome parents who raised me." I want them to be accepted, black and white, parented and placed, water and wuh-ter, as siblings, as friends, as children and as adults. I want the change to help foster that aura of acceptance.

I cannot change the world on my own. But maybe, just maybe, if more people begin to accept others' realities as different from their own but mutually acceptable, maybe then, just maybe, that change won't be big and scary. Maybe then, oh please, my family will be allowed to operate in whatever fashion we see best fit.

(Originally published at The Chronicles of Munchkin Land on my birthday, 2007.)

The Difference in Motherhoods

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 15:03:17 GMT

He likes chewing on the monkey's hand. He gets frustrated when he can't pull said monkey down off the playmat arch. During bath time, he likes to hold a wash cloth, his rubber duckie or his wash cloth. He doesn't like water in his eyes. When he wakes up in the morning, he greets me (or Daddy) with a big smile. He loves to be naked. And he will pee on you without warning.

His current favorite sound is a gurgling "g," which he can do for hours on end. He loves to chew on his Taggie blanket and now, just purchased, his Taggie book. Speaking of books, he loves them; we read to him constantly. He likes his mirror but he will wing it at your face. Sitting in the bouncy seat shortly after a feeding is usually a pretty good way to get him to poop. He watches Martha Stewart; perhaps someday he'll bake me a fantastic cake.

Watching him get his shots breaks my heart. When it comes to binkies, he's picky. He's nosy. He snores in his sleep. When he gets excited, he kicks his little feet and waves his arms all while making the cutest cooing sound known to mankind. He smiles the biggest smiles in the world when Daddy says, "Boo!" His pouty lip can bring tears to the eyes of stone cold Men. His skin is so soft and it always smells good. Except when he poops.

He rarely spits up unless I say, "He rarely spits up." Then he likes to prove me wrong. Rebelling all ready! He doesn't mind me dressing him for the day. Sitting in his high chair is a new excitement, even though we're not feeding him solids yet, just getting him used to the chair. I take a million and one pictures and the child doesn't mind. Music makes him move. He likes to lay on the big bed. He likes fans, light fixtures and his fishy mobile.

When he is ready to go to sleep for the night, he gets a little fussy. He wants to cuddle in close. He will flail his left arm around if you don't hold on to his hand. And he wants his butt patted. The Butt Pat is magic. If he starts fussing again, just start patting the butt. Magic. And as soon as he falls asleep, his whole body relaxes. He smiles in his sleep. Sometimes he makes giggling noises. And when we lay him down in his crib for the night, he stretches his arms and legs, finds his little spot and drifts off to dream land.

I can say all of this about my son. I could say more. I could go on and on about the little intricate details of his wonderful daily life for pages upon pages. I could tell you every last thing he likes and doesn't like. I could tell you what makes him giggle and what makes that lower lip stick out further than my own. I could tell you what will scare him and what won't have any adverse effect. I know which diapers will work and which ones will give him an allergic reaction.

And he's not even five months old yet.

My daughter is over two years old and I can't tell you half of this information. Not because Denise doesn't do a good job at telling me but because I'm not there. I don't know her nightly bedtime routine. I don't know if she has a blankie. (Though I do know she has a cup that goes downstairs with her.) Allergies? I don't think she has any but I can't say that for certain. I don't know what her favorite toys are though I know she likes to line them up around her. I don't know what she's scared of and what is normal.

There are some days when I feel so close to my daughter. And there are days like today when I feel like the farthest thing from her soul. It hurts, really. I'm gonna go cuddle my Little Man to sleep.

(Originally published at The Chronicles of Munchkin Land in April 2006.)

Call Me Mom

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 17:39:50 GMT

I know this may be controversial, but I just wanted to give my two sents' worth on the issue of older adopted kids addressing their adoptive single parents.

I first became a single mother at the age of 41. For months before I went on my first adoption trip, I wondered what my daughter would want to call me. She was 12 years old on that first trip.

My Russian was minimal, although I was making a big effort to learn the language. I carefully thought out how I would tell her, "Look, you can just call me Dee until you feel comfortable enough to call me Mom."

My process had begun when my choir sang at Alesia's orphanage, and I started thinking about adopting the little blonde girl I met. I got in touch with a missionary who worked at the orphanage and started writing notes to Alesia. So I had been writing to Alesia for months before adoption trip #1. Thus, Alesia knew me, a bit. I always signed the letters Dee, however, to avoid awkwardness.

The first meeting in more than a year was awkward and touching. I got out of the car and saw Alesia walking with a friend. I called out to her, just her name. She turned and scrutinized me, then screamed "Dee!" and ran up to me and threw her arms around me. I had to work hard not to cry. She was all skin and bones, and dressed in ragged mismatched clothes that were miles too big.

We went into the orphanage and met with the social worker, who didn't want to be cooperative. The agency rep asked her to walk outside. That left me and Alesia and another agency rep inside the office. Alesia was shy and clearly felt awkward.

The other agency rep said to Alesia in Russian, "This is your new Mama." Alesia was shyly looking down, studying her feet. She looked apprehensive at the word "mama" - which is the same as the American word. I knew enough Russian to know what was said. I said quickly "Tell her she can call me Dee, until she feels comfortable with Mama, or Mom. In America, I call my mother Mom." They translated that, and Alesia looked relieved.

She called me Dee that first day, around the other girls. She led me around by the hand, always huddling against me, protective of her mama-to-be. I felt so sorry for the other girls who had nobody. It broke my heart, the more time I spent with these lovely, smart 11 to 14 year olds. The second day or so, Alesia was calling me Mom-Dee, then finally, just Mom. She has never called me anything but Mom since then.

I don't have any great insights to share about attachment or bonding, except that I truly believe calling me Mom helped my daughter attach to me. I know another single mom who adopted two older girls and they don't call her mom, they call her by her first name. I don't think that's the best situation. I think the mother should've insisted on Mom or Mommy, or something along those lines. The attachment has taken longer. That's just my observation.

My daughter doesn't confuse me with her birthmom, who she lived with until age 6. To her, I AM her mama, and her birthmom is her birthmom. Her birthmom never called, wrote, or visited Alesia in 6 1/2 years in the orphanage, so Alesia was out of practice using any term for mother.

When I adopted my son, the first meeting went a little differently. The orphanage assistant director, a kindly older lady, introduced me, asked him if he wanted to be adopted, and we talked for a while. He looked at a photo album of my home and the other family members. Finally, he was asked what he wanted to call me. He looked at me and grinned. "Mama!" was his enthusiastic answer. We all laughed. "OK, then, that's fine with me!" I said. "Or you can call me Mom, like Alesia."

My attachment with my son has been swift and easy. He calls me Mom. He went around the first week hugging me constantly and gazing up at me in adoration, saying over and over "My Mom." He has been home now since May 2007 and is already well attached.

Some children who are older may associate the word "mama" with negative feelings, so it's understandable they would feel awkward using the word. However, if there is another "mother" word they can be taught to use, I feel like that is the best situation.

As a single mother, I never really felt like a "Mom" until the first time I was in a store and I heard a little voice calling Mom! and I automatically looked around for my daughter. When I realized this little person would always know me as "Mom" my heart just melted.

To older adopted children who crave a stable home and family, you are the mama [or daddy] and I think using those terms helps solidify the bond, even if it seems strange at first.

� Dee Thompson 2007

Women Who Notice

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 19:19:39 GMT

My second daughter, adopted as a baby from China,�was a challenge to parent. She came to me with an awareness of�her loss, memories of a woman she loved, a sensitive nature and an intense personality. My first three years with this beautiful and intelligent child drained me emotionally and physically. I learned what I had to do in order to help her with her adoption issues, and re-wiring my life, I did what was needed. I don't remember the details...but I remember being tired! And scared and anxious and resigned. We made progress together, but teaching a baby to love you is a lonely business.

My daughter grew to feel safe and secure in tiny little steps. I rejoiced in the smallest of things: her first unsolicited kiss at 15 months old almost stopped my heart! I spent most of my day, every day (and a lot of my nights) meeting her needs and teaching her to trust; it's hard to�comprehend the immense amount of energy that can go into adoption-parenting, unless you're familiar with the bittersweet experience of bringing a child back from the edge.

I had a lot to learn about support systems, both for my child and for myself, and if I had to do it again I would be as proactive in finding�assistance for myself as I was about finding resources for my daughter. I would help my family and friends understand the work I was doing with my child, and I would ask for their emotional support. I would let them know exactly what I was dealing with, and how important it was for them to put their arms around me and my baby, literally and figuratively. Adopting a child opened a whole new world for me, but I think I was too blurry-eyed to realize that my friends and family weren't sure of how to offer to help, or even what I was trying to accomplish. What had become second nature to me in doing attachment-work with my daughter probably made me look like a rigid and over-protective parent to an outsider, and probably made me appear unapproachable.

I�wanted a coach, a mentor, a friend who understood--I needed the village that was supposed to help me raise my child! I didn't get the whole village, but I did find women who reached out to me, who extended sisterhood and who told me I was doing something valuable by mothering. They noticed. I held on to their words of honesty and support, and was enormously touched whenever another mom mentioned how well my little girl was doing. Simple words�had a powerful impact:

"You are a great mom," my own mother told me one day, after watching me slog through months of attachment-parenting.

"You are a strong woman," an adoption therapist told me, which gave me�the mantra to get through my week.

"We are so thrilled for her!" a group of moms told me with excitement when�my toddler was finally able to sit happily�on the play parachute at Gymboree. It was a big day when she decided to go for a gentle circle ride with the other babies, instead of clinging to me in fear. The moms' sincere celebration of my baby's big�step forward�surprised me; that they had noticed what�my daughter was working to overcome, and had shared�their appreciation of her accomplishment, meant the world to me.

More than time alone or bubble baths or even chocolate, the�words and company�of other mothers re-energized me to be the kind of parent I wanted to be. Moms who understood what I was trying to achieve, who acknowledged and validated my time with my daughter, were my cheerleaders. They gave me the words to go forward and the words that re-filled my inner reserve. I was, and continue to be, extraordinarily grateful for the women in my life who spoke up and reached out to me, who helped keep my attitude healthy and happy, and Who Noticed when I needed it most.

There is invisible strength in Motherhood, and we need to watch out for one another. Giving a struggling mom�a compliment, noticing the incremental progress of�her child, or offering your encouragement (or shoulder to cry on) are�not-so-random acts of kindness that fuel the thankless job of parenting. Showing up with a flat of flowers and planting them, dropping off a video and a bag of chips & dip, or simply sending an admiring email, are�motherly gestures we can do for tired moms that help void the feelings of isolation that parenting challenging children can engender. We can do this for each other; we can extend a hand, we can connect, we can all notice a mom who is in need of the essential, human magic of other mothers.

Excerpted from Adoption-Parenting: Creating a Toolbox, Building Connections (2006 EMK Press)

�

Connecting With Our Children

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 19:48:53 GMT

"Adopted children must learn the important developmental skills of connecting their feelings with their thoughts and actions."
(Dee A. Paddock, MA, MTS, NCC)

Fear, anger, loss and grief. Most of us would prefer to not have to deal with adoption fall-out. It is emotional, messy, complicated stuff that most of us were not raised to handle. But somewhere between the ages of four and ten, our adopted children begin to realize that in gaining an adoptive family, they have suffered some very significant losses. Suddenly, they need help interpreting both their positive and negative emotions and they need acceptance for what they're feeling on all levels. They look to us for help, and if we can't, or if we come up short, they proceed on a long, lonely journey all by themselves.

Adoption fall-out is an opportunity that parents should grab with both hands! It is a chance for you to stretch yourself as a mom or dad, and a chance to keep your child fully in your life. Typically, fall-out first begins in the car, on the schoolyard or at bedtime. It may start with a single question. It can enter your life with a child's amazing and bewildering breakdown, or creep in silently with a child's sullen look and angry silence. It is often attributed to "ages & stages", and it may go underground.but it doesn't go away.

Once we parents realize what we're dealing with, how do we ever equip ourselves with the tools to help? How do we teach our internationally adopted children to cope with the sources of adoption fall-out, and how do we give them what they need to grow? How do we help our children, mostly pre-verbal when adopted, express the feelings of anger, sadness or confusion over the life choices that were made for them-emotions that they may carry but can't explain?

Teaching our children to understand their emotions and allowing them to express their feelings about the beginning of their lives is a powerful first step toward fall-out containment. Many of our internationally adopted children come to us with very little history, and a very big need to know the "facts" of how and why they began with one set of parents and ended up with another. They crave a structure of knowledge that will help them navigate the enormously complex feelings that accompany abandonment. They need hands-on context to aid them in keeping their self-esteem while dealing with feelings of unworthiness, and the ultimate core question: why didn't my birthparents keep me?

The Seven Core Issues in Adoption can provide parents with the insight and information needed to create a toolbox that will enable them understand the feelings of an adopted child. Deborah N. Silverstein, LCSW, and Sharon Kaplan Roszia, MS, have identified universal adoption issues that trigger emotions that are experienced, to some degree, by every single adoptee:

1) Loss

2) Rejection

3) Guilt and Shame

4) Grief

5) Identity

6) Intimacy

7) Mastery / Control

These seven issues are the basis for an adoptee's thoughts, feelings and reactions. They are a parent's key to understanding a child's perceptions of herself and her view of her biological and adoptive families. The seven issues are inter-related and overlap, and they decisively affect most every aspect of an adopted child's life.

Rather than being viewed as a pile of negative emotional baggage, the seven core issues can be utilized by an adoptive parent to guide a child to self-awareness, strength and resiliency. Some of the seven issues have a panacea-- "prescriptions" that a parent can apply to help a child grow and heal, while others simply demand acceptance. One of the hardest things for any parent is to see a child in pain and not be able to make the pain go away, or fix what is wrong. Especially in adoption, a parent's role must sometimes be the "facilitator", instead of the "fixer" that we'd really like it to be. The facilitator role is an important one however, and it is essential to an adopted child and her family circle.

Psychologist Doris Landry has created a set of four prescriptive tools for parents to use to help them steer their children through the seven issues, and to alleviate some of the alienation and confusion categorized by Silverstein and Kaplan Roszia. Children who are dealing with core issues may be helped with one or more of the following:

. Education

. Understanding

. Ongoing Awareness

. Acceptance

A parent's job entails guidance and support; it requires a mom or dad to allow and encourage a child to feel every emotion deeply, while using the education, understanding, awareness, and acceptance tools that give a child permission to move forward. For an adoptee stuck in a core issue, the world is a scary, insecure place. Mom or Dad might not be able to fix the world, or a child's losses, but according to therapist Dee Paddock, parents have an important role. A parent.

".can model doggedness, mastery, moral courage, love and hope. Our adopted children can grow into adults who are optimists, who believe it is possible to transcend sorrow and fear, and that things do change."

LOSS
Through abandonment and adoption, our internationally adopted children lost their birthparents and biological siblings, and their extended family of aunts, uncles and grandparents. Our children lost their birth country, birth culture, racial identity and language. Some of our daughters and sons lost orphanage caretakers that they cared about; others lost foster families that they had loved and lived with since birth.

Children who have lost their birthparents, foster parents or primary orphanage caretakers have had the rug whipped out from underneath them one too many times. They come to expect fear and loss as a normal consequence of loving and living; they know it can happen at any time and without warning, because it's happened to them before. Internationally adopted children can suffer from intense separation anxiety, and may have difficulty with transitions and separations of even the innocuous kind. Camp, sleepovers, moving, or attending a new school are small hiccups that can re-awaken conscious, or unconscious loss issues. A parent's death, divorce, or hospitalization are severe trials that need to be recognized as major earthquakes for a child with a previous loss trauma.

Birthmother loss is especially poignant for an adoptee. A birthmother's rejection cuts deeply, sharply and permanently. If a child was adopted as an infant, the birthmother is the person the child 'remembers' on an unconscious, primal level, and is symbolic of the "loss soup" that contains the overwhelming longing an adoptee may feel for her previous life. As a parent you can give your child permission to love two mothers, one who gave her life and one who will take care of her, make good choices for her and love her forever. You can also give your child permission to feel anger at the choices a birthparent made for her. Abandonment may have been the birthmom's only choice, but even if a child understands this intellectually, it still hurts and the hurt needs to be expressed. Your child may even need permission to express feeling angry with you - for not being there when she was a baby and needed you, or for 'stealing' her away from her birthmother and country. Some children get temporarily caught in birthmother loss and need concrete ways of processing:

. Include the birthmother in normal conversation with your child.

. Celebrate adoption day, your child's birthday or Mother's Day with a birthmother honoring ceremony the day before the holiday ("Mother's Day Eve"). Help your child make the day of her own symbolic design, using letter writing, picture drawing, cake-baking, candle-lighting or moon-wishes.

Reinforcing a place for two "real" moms within one family is a unifying gesture, and one that affirms the reality of a child's love and loss, past and present. It's important to remember that focusing on adoption loss does not equate with fixating on unhappiness.

There is no tool to 'cure' loss, and there is no closure. A parent's understanding of a child's loss won't make the loss go away, but it will forge an empathic parent-child liaison based on honesty and trust. Acknowledging loss is an important first step in acceptance and moving forward for our children, and we have to stop ourselves from trying to amend their reality by painting an entirely rosy picture of their early lives-a rosy picture that may not entirely jibe with what they are feeling inside. Our children don't need us to make life pretty; to grow, they need to be taught to examine their feelings and be able to decide if loss is unfairly over-influencing an emotional reaction. Adoption loss can't be eradicated, but a child can learn to recognize it, own it, channel it and control it.

LOSS SOUP: "When my daughter from China was four years old, we went into the trenches together to address her adoption issues. I agonized over how to address the loss in her life. Who was she mourning? What was causing her pain? It seemed like she was fiercely grieving an actual person; did her dimly remembered foster mother figure more prominently in her "sads" than her lost birth mom? Which loss should I focus on when talking to her about her past? The therapist told me it didn't matter; that my daughter's multiple losses were dumped into one pot, and that I needed to address them not as separate incidents or separate people, but as one FEELING.

Loss Soup. My daughter and I went for the loss 'feeling', knowing we couldn't banish it, but both of us learning to live with it. I include myself here, because although it was my daughter's story and her pain, I also had to learn the skills that would help her-- and help ME put aside my stoic upbringing and be the mom she needed. It is heartbreaking to watch a child in any kind of physical or emotional pain, but it is strengthening to work through the pain together. Adoption loss doesn't go away, but it can become a dimension of joyful living, rather than a sad view of life." (Jean MacLeod)

REJECTION
A child's feelings of rejection are directly related to abandonment. Children without a way to express their confusion, fear, sadness and anger over their perceived rejection by their birthmother, may act out with inappropriate tantrums or behaviors (or act in, with depression, boredom and withdrawal). A child may be extra controlling, or exhibit intense anxiety about loss or separation. Adopted children may feel shame ("I must be bad / unlovable for my birthmother to have given me away") and live with poor self-esteem. Adoption is a lifelong process; understanding the ongoing need for communication and learning the words to use may feel simplistic, but it is part of the prescription:

Does your child have words to identify and regularly express the four basic emotions that people are born pre-wired for?

Mad, Sad, Scared and Happy

Some children really have no idea why they are feeling the way they do inside-- no one has helped them make the connection between their lives/losses in their birth country and their current feelings. They do not understand what is triggering their reactions, and over-reactions. They honestly do not know why they are feeling angry, why they are taking it out on their mom or dad, and why they carry so much inexpressible emotion. Once they become aware their relief is often immense, and they can begin to work on coping mechanisms.

Does your child have your permission and encouragement to express her feelings?

"I wish I still had my birthmother" is hard for a child to say if she believes her mom would be sad or angry in hearing the truth about what she thinks or how she feels. If a mother takes it personally, it is far too risky for a kid to be honest ("my mom will leave me if I tell her this"). Our children's #1 fear is of abandonment, and they will suffer in silence if that's what it takes to avoid causing the unthinkable to happen again.

GUILT and SHAME
Guilt and shame are by-products of rejection. They are a child's paralyzing, toxic reaction to the belief that something must be intrinsically wrong with them, or that they must have done something really bad, to have caused their own abandonment. Shame is secret and silent. Adults understand that birthparents have grown-up reasons to relinquish a child, but children view the act personally as a reflection of themselves, and are deeply ashamed of not being 'good enough' for a mother to keep. The prescription for shame is to blast it out in the open and help children understand that their 'rejection' and abandonment was not about them:

"Detect it, Expose it, Dump it!"

Shame and guilt can only exist in dark, untouched secret places. Bringing the reasons for a child's self-incriminating feelings out into the light and exposing self-held secrets to the truth will begin to eliminate shame, rejection and guilt's internalized triple grip.

GRIEF
A pro-active parent can help their child explore the past, live fully in the present and develop the resilience necessary for the future. Therapeutic parenting is a term that describes the extra level of pro-active parenting that is required to help a child discover and recover from their childhood trauma. Children exhibit expressions of grief according to their experience and their temperament, and they may present grief in very different ways. Some children display sadness by fighting, some are unable to play, and some children demonstrate little expression and no excitement about life in general. Others are excessively nervous or shy, and worry more than is normal.

A therapeutic parent uses all four tools (understanding, awareness, education, acceptance) to help a child with grief. A parent can gain valuable insight into a child's feelings by introducing sensitive or painful topics, by really listening, and by being watchfully aware of a child's activities. The content of a child's imaginative play is a window into what they are feeling, and by observing without interfering, a parent may be able to decipher if a child is trapped in the grieving process. Without skills to become "un-stuck", a child will repetitively play out his or her issues. A useful twist on 'misery loves company': a therapeutic parent using the four tools can relieve a child's burden by sharing play and conversation, and by examining and validating the child's emotions. Part of the miracle of therapeutic practice is that simply talking about an inner issue like grief can take the issue outward, re-shape it, and change a child's perceptions about it.

MASTERY / CONTROL
"The adoptee often feels as though he/she has had no control over the events of his/her life. Decisions surrounding relinquishment, choice of adoptive family, and information to be shared with them were all made by other people. The adoptee feels helpless and frustrated that life seems to be a series of uncontrollable events. As a result, the adoptee's need to be in control of "something" often becomes a problem." (Judy Bemig and Betsy Keefer)

Paradoxically, post-institutional (PI) adoptees suffer from a lack of control over the early-life decisions made for them, and also suffer from demanding too much of the unnatural kind of control, at too early an age. Ideally, children learn autonomy in steps, and learn control over their world under the watchful eye of their mothers. A healthy bio infant/toddler trusts that his or her world is a safe place to investigate and master (control). An abandoned, PI child skips over the trust, to desperately trying to control his or her environment in order to survive. A child that is having difficulty dealing with the seven core issues is unable to let herself believe that "father or mother knows best" and will engage in continual power struggles with her parents, and anyone else in authority. These children must control friends, play-dates, conversations and parental attention. Some children will feel pushed to hoard food, tell lies, or even steal, in order to demonstrate complete control over their own world. A child lives through an orphanage experience by taking care of herself; to later trust an adult to take care of her feels dangerously life-threatening.

Part of the control problem is solved when the parent and the child become aware of what the underlying problem really is (an adoption issue), and what is fueling it (a child's base fear for survival). Working on changing control patterns takes dedicated, non-punitive action and lots of loving, but firm limit-setting. A parent needs to withdraw the unnatural control and decision-making from the adopted child and work at building a basis of trust and love. The adoptee has to learn to allow the adoptive parent to make good choices and decisions for her, while the parents continually demonstrate trustworthiness. Giving the child the gift of healthy, inner self-control is based in attachment-parenting plus parent control, enforced with kindness and affection. When an adoptee feels safe, and in control of her inner self, some of the need to control the outward universe disappears. Although frustrating, the hard work a parent does with an adopted child on her post-institutional behaviors should be an affirming experience for both; shame is debilitating for a child and anger is self-defeating for the parent.

IDENTITY
"Adoption, for some, precludes a complete or integrated sense of self. Adoptees lacking medical, genetic, religious or historical information are plagued by questions such as: Who are they? Why were they born? Were they in fact merely a mistake, not meant to have been born, an accident?" (Silverstein and Kaplan Roszia)

Helping a child develop an identity that includes the past, the present and the future is integral for a child to feel whole. An adoptee's realization of the blank space in their family history exacerbates the hollow spot they carry inside, with a profoundly sad result.

Past Identity: Without a foundation to build upon, a structure crumbles. Creating an honest life narrative, or Lifebook, helps provide a sense of history, or life structure, for adopted children. Our internationally adopted sons and daughters come to us encoded with information that we can backtrack, react to and connect with. Everyone has a story, but the facts of an internationally adopted child's babyhood are not as important as how she feels about her early life, how she interprets pre-adoptive events, and how she views her place in the world. Resilience, a trait that allows a person to view and react to adversity as a challenge rather than as a trauma, plays a large part in how a child defines herself through 'past identity'. A child who suffered a harsh orphanage experience had a difficult start in life, but can be taught by a parent to be re-defined by her bravery and courageously strong survival skills. A 'powerless victim' internal working model can be changed; not by ignoring sad facts, but by embracing them.

"Reframing is at the heart of resilience. You go back to an incident, find the strengths, and build self-esteem from the achievement. It is a way of shifting focus from the cup half empty to the cup half full." (Hara Estroff Marano)

Resilience may not be an innate trait for some, but it can be learned. Parents play an integral role in modeling behavior and feelings, and by demonstrating their own resilient responses to life. Resilience researcher, Dr. Steve Wolin, believes that the give-and-take, the emotional insight, and the support that are components of a healthy reciprocal relationship, will ultimately generate self-esteem and permanent, integrated strength in an individual building internal reserves.

Present Identity: A child's identity in the present is to a large degree, familial. It is a huge comfort for a child to feel that she belongs in her adopted family, that she has full membership along with her parents and siblings, and that the membership can never be revoked. A child derives strength from kinship and family claiming behaviors! A parent can emphasize family by celebrating connections, and by dedicating time and importance to building a strong family foundation. Building awareness and mutual a

. work and play together

. describe and appreciate the special attributes of each family member

. brainstorm family goals

. talk about family unity

. design simple family rituals

. celebrate spiritual or religious beliefs

. draw or talk about what families do to stay close

. ask each member to list three things that make it difficult to stay close, then problem-solve the difficulties as a family (Landry)

Some adopted teens and adults cite feeling alienated from their adoptive families; it makes sense that time, effort, and priority should be put toward underscoring the fundamental need to be together. A strong family provides a safe base to explore from for a child, and a secure safety net for a teen experimenting with independence.

Future Identity: Family claiming and connection, life narratives, and Lifebooks are tools to help a child learn to integrate her past, understand the present and take charge of her future. Giving a child ownership of her life story and her thoughts and feelings builds a foundation for further construction. Kaplan Roszia and Silverstein warn that a:

"Lack of identity may lead adoptees, particularly in adolescent years, to seek out ways to belong in more extreme fashion than many of their non-adopted peers. Adolescent adoptees are over-represented among those who join sub-cultures, run away, become pregnant, or totally reject their families."

Reinforcing your child's whole identity, co-creating and re-framing her story while facing the difficult truths together, will strengthen your child's trust in herself and help give her the resilient fortitude to live with past, present and future shadows.

INTIMACY
For a young child, intimacy is measured in peer friendships and in a child's relationship with her parents. If a child is grappling with adoption issues, it can interfere with all of her interactions. Grief, shame, loss and rejection may motivate a child to steer clear of any relationship with potential to bring more of the same.

"Adoptive parents report that their adopted children seem to hold back a part of themselves in the relationship. Adoptive mothers indicate, for example, that even as an infant, the adoptee was "not cuddly." Many adoptees as teens state that they have truly never felt close to anyone. Some youngsters declare a lifetime emptiness related
to longing for the birthmother they may never have seen." (Kaplan Roszia & Silverstein)

Working on the intimacy issue requires a great deal of trust, communication and vulnerability from children, and from adults. A parent must be willing to discuss topics that are uncomfortable (infertility, for example) and be willing to participate in painful conversations (a child wishing for her birthparents). It is up to the parent to introduce adoption subjects, and to be willing to accept the notion of a child's biological family as an intimate part of their own. A parent who is distressed or embarrassed talking about personal issues or who refuses to visit the loss-laden 'dark' side of adoption, will not be helpful to their child and will probably not get many shots at parent-child intimacy, either.

Holly van Gulden and Lisa M. Bartels-Rabb, authors of Real Parents, Real Children, suggest using the Pebbles Technique to open a conversation about a sensitive adoption topic.

"Pebbles are one-liners, not conversations, that raise an issue and then are allowed to ripple until a child is ready to pick up on it."

An example might be mentioning your child's beautiful, black hair and wondering out loud if she got her hair from her birthmother.essentially, throwing out a conversational pebble for the child to catch. If a child chooses not to respond to the pebble, the parent has still communicated a willingness and ability to talk about difficult subject matter, and can toss out another pebble at another time.

Because adopted children are fearful of hurting their adoptive parents, and are unwilling to risk rejection, parents must be the discussion initiators. Parents must model understanding and acceptance, and pro-actively be part of a child's internal world. An un-addressed intimacy issue can quietly decimate an important relationship, leaving a child alienated and a parent sad and confused. How intimate we are with our young children now, will have direct repercussions on their teen years:

"When an open, accepting environment in which the child can talk about and tackle adoption-related issues is established early on, the child will feel freer to turn to his parents to talk about problems as a teen. If parents deny their child's feelings or sweep them under the rug, then the family-parents and child alike-will have no system for addressing them when they intensify in adolescence." (van Gulden and Bartels-Rabb)

Adoption fall-out is a blessing in disguise. Our children's sadness, anger, confusion, and questions are all there for us parents to pick up and run with now, perhaps circumventing some of the bigger outbursts in adolescence. Adoption issues will continue to re-appear at times of transition throughout our children's lives: entering school, moving, marriage, pregnancy and birth, divorce, medical interventions, deaths of friends and family, mid-life and old-age. How our children handle each challenge depends on their personality and on their preparation. The Seven Core Issues and 'parenting prescriptions' give us tools to interpret our children's thoughts and emotions, and allow us the insight to guide them to self-awareness. We can't fix the fall-out, but we can help our children with their feelings, and with their healing. We can demonstrate our own resiliency and teach our sons and daughters that their journey of adoption is more than survivable; that it has shaped them in remarkable ways, and with our help, it can also make them strong.

A Note to Parents
Adoption-parenting can be challenging, puzzling and frustrating. Our children are huge joys, but they come with to us with a history and a worldview that we sometimes need to work to connect to. If the seven core issues have raised their head in your household and you are in need of an additional skill set to deal with them, there is help! Attachment or adoption therapists are trained to understand the needs of internationally adopted children, the issues of loss, and the effects of post-institutionalization. For parent-recommended therapists, and therapists registered with the national organization ATTACh, go to the following websites:

www.attach-china.org and www.attach.org

REFERENCES
Lifelong Issues in Adoption
By Deborah N. Silverstein, LCSW, and Sharon Kaplan Roszia, MS

Doris Landry, MS, www.adoptionparenting.net

The Art of Resilience
By Hara Estroff Marano / Psychology Today.com

Orphans and Warriors, The Journey of the Adopted Heart
By Dee Paddock, MA, MTS, NCC

The Resilient Self : How Survivors of Troubled Families Rise Above Adversity
By Steven J. Wolin, MD and Sybil Wolin, Ph.D.

Real Parents. Real Children
By Holly van Gulden and Lisa M. Bartels-Rabb

Adoption and Divorce

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 20:11:53 GMT

Divorce isn't the ending that any parent envisions when they begin the journey to adopt. In addition to the normal stress of a dissolved relationship, a parent may feel extra guilt over inflicting an additional trauma on a child with a history of loss. How you handle yourself during the process of divorce can mitigate some of the guilt: recognize that when a parent chooses to demonstrate a "good" ending to a bad situation, it can set an incredibly important example. Whether a couple's divorce is amicable or acrimonious, a child needs to be guided through his own pain and confusion. When a parent is able to display emotional leadership, and implement a family emotional-behavioral plan to weather the upheaval of divorce, it teaches an adoptee that there is life-after-loss. Ask yourself:

1) What is your behavior modeling for your children? How are you "teaching" them to handle adversity/sadness/anger?

2) Are you expressing YOUR feelings in a healthy way?

3) Are you age-appropriately HONEST with your kids about your divorce? Do you answer (or bring up) questions in a straightforward manner, without getting overly upset?

4) Do your children truly understand that THEY had nothing to do with YOUR divorce?

5) Are you allowing your children to mourn the loss of "how life was" with two parents (even if the ex-spouse was less-than-perfect)?

6) Do you give spoken/unspoken permission to your children to love their other parent, and do you reinforce that relationship?

7) Do you validate your children's emotions?

8) Are you showing them how, in spite of divorce-loss, to be happy?

9) Are you allowing guilt over divorcing one of your child's parents to immobilize your good parenting (are you able to confidently set boundaries, and enforce house rules)?

10) Can you put your adopted children's emotional needs as your HIGH PRIORITY over everything else, for at least the year after your divorce?

. Understand that you and your spouse are the marriage role models that your children internalize and replicate. Divorce is a sad solution, but worse, is staying in a bad/sad/mad marriage and allowing your children to understand your negative relationship with your spouse as "normal". Your marital relationship could become THEIR family structure as adults.

. You cannot be the parent you need to be for your kids IF YOU ARE CHRONICALLY UNHAPPY or in a dysfunctional relationship. Get help or Get out.

. Avoid building a loving, fantasy parent out of an absent-by-choice ex-spouse. You don't want your child to be hurt by a parent who shows little interest in visitation or who "abandons" your son or daughter, but it is better to place an honest, non-denigrating explanation where it belongs (on the absent parent's personal problems, or sad choices, for example), and to help your child deal with this loss upfront. Covering for an ex-spouse in order to protect your kids' feelings will eventually backlash at YOU.

. Normalize therapy for your kids: Therapists are Feelings Doctors and we all could use a tune-up. If you are seeing a marriage counselor or individual therapist, tell your kids in a serious, but matter-of-fact manner. Talk about why smart people seek help. Your normalizing therapy as a healthy choice will go a long way in helping your child see a counselor, if it is indicated.

. Divorce will trigger an adopted child's loss issues. It is an opportunity to identify and talk about the core issue of loss, validate feelings, offer empathy, and help build your child's resilience with coping skills. An adopted child's awareness of his feeling that divorce = abandonment, and WHY he feels the way he does, is a huge step toward him being able to successfully deal with the stress of this major life change.

Copyright 2005 MacLeod, All Rights Reserved
Originally published in Adoption Parenting: Creating a Toolbox, Building Connections edited by Jean MacLeod & Sheena Macrae, Ph.D.

RESOURCES on DIVORCE for Parents
Divorce After Adoption: Practical Tips for Parents
www.adopting.org/adoptions/divorce-after-adoption-practical-tips-for-parents.html

Books about Divorce for Adults, Teens and Children
www.divorce-books.com

Helping Your Kids Cope with Divorce the
by M. Gary Neuman

FAVORITE BOOKS about Divorce for Children
Help! A Girl's Guide to Divorce and Stepfamilies (American Girl Library)
by Nancy Holyoke

Dinosaurs Divorce by Mac Brown & Laurie Krasny Brown

Let's Talk About It: Divorce by Fred Rogers

It's Not Your Fault, Koko Bear by Vicky Lansky

Sandcastles Way

Just for Kids on Mother's Day

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 20:21:12 GMT

Do you think about your birthmother? Most adopted kids do! It's normal and natural-- your birthmother is part of you, and you may yearn to know about that piece of yourself. You may have questions for her; you may wish to know details about your birth, or the real answer to why she left you.

Mother's Day can be a day of mixed emotions for internationally adopted kids who have no contact with their birthparents. You may feel love for your absent birthmother, or sadness, or even anger! You may even feel guilty for thinking about your birthmother if you believe your adoptive mother would be hurt by your questions or sad feelings. You may feel ALL of these things occasionally, and it may feel confusing to have all of this swirling around inside. Try to remember:

. It's okay to love two moms

. It's okay to feel happy or sad or mad when you think about your birthmother

. It's okay to share your real feelings with your mom or dad

Honoring your mom on Mother's Day is a wonderful tradition. It is an opportunity to make your mom, who loves you and cares for you on a daily basis, feel special and appreciated! Mother's Day can also be an opportunity to think about the woman that gave you life. It can be a chance to focus on understanding how you have become a beautiful part of BOTH of your moms.

Creating rituals and taking symbolic action are ways people deal with deep emotion. Sometimes 'doing' can help you express yourself when finding the right words for what you are feeling is difficult. Talking about adoption and birthparents can be tough! You may wish to choose an action or ritual that symbolizes your thoughts or feelings about your birthmother (or create one of your own), and enlist your mom's help. Honoring your birthmother doesn't diminish your love for your adoptive mom on Mother's Day. It simply recognizes your birthmother's essential contribution to your being, and enlarges your family circle to include an important piece of YOU.

IDEAS
Write a letter to your birthmother, and keep in a special box. The box can be a place to store your thoughts and feelings, and small treasures that remind you of your early life.

Paint a picture: use your feelings and your imagination and make a picture of you
with your two mothers

Make a cake the day before Mother's Day to celebrate your birthmother on a new occasion: "Mother's Day Eve".

Talk to your mom about your feelings about your birthmother. Your mom will understand, and sharing your emotions will make you feel lighter inside.

Create a book about your life, and describe the traits you think you have inherited from your birthmother, and what she might look like (look in the mirror!).

Light a candle, and send a blessing, a thought or a prayer to your birthmother.

Plant a flower or a small tree, as a symbol of your own roots (your birthmother) and blooming branches (your adoptive family).

View the moon when it is full, and know that it is the same moon your birthmother views at night, from across the ocean. A moonbeam connection!

Copyright 2007 MacLeod, All Rights Reserved
First published in Mei Magazine 2007 www.meimagazine.com

Seeking Therapy for an Adopted Child

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 20:43:46 GMT

Parenting is a tough job. Adoption Parenting is a tough job that comes without directions. Baby books, Child-Care books, and Parenting and Discipline Books are all based off the societal, biological "norm". Without any kind of a map, how can you discern which of your child's problematical behaviors are derived from age-related flare-ups and which are evolved from the life-long issues of adoption?

Without some help, you probably can't. Adoptive parents are not prepared by the adoption process or by the model of child-rearing they themselves were raised with, to understand the extra layer of emotions that adopted children live with. Moms and Dads have not been taught to recognize the masked anger, sadness, shame or fear that is a part of some adopted and foster children's psyche, and they have not been trained to help their children deal with the emotions that spring from the pain and loss of their children's early lives. Adoption Parenting is different; children who were adopted domestically and internationally, at birth or as an older adoptee, will process core issues and experience life transitions on a different timetable and with a different twist than their biologically parented peers.

The cause of troubling behavior in a child is a tough call to make when a parent is left in this kind of uncharted Adoption Parenting twilight zone. It is easy when a child is young to rationalize his or her objectionable behaviors as being part of the terrible twos, threes or even fours. It becomes more difficult to accept as the child gets older, and it becomes terribly frustrating for an adoptive parent trying unsuccessfully to use traditional disciplinary methods on a rebellious pre-teen or adolescent. It's important for a parent to realize that a child's behavior is only a symptom. The real underlying problem may be an adoption-related issue.the difficulty is deciding if your child's issues are disturbing enough to himself or to others, to seek professional assistance. Children who harm others, animals or themselves, or act destructively, need immediate help. For other children, who move in and out of intense emotions or behaviors or who try to hide their trauma, it's harder to discern if therapy is required.

Questions adoptive parents can ask themselves to help evaluate the need for a therapist consultation:

Is your child's behavior interfering with a normal enjoyment of her life, school and family?

Is your child's outward compliance or quiet opposition, really a control, anger or fear

issue? Is she passively angry at you for leaving her at school or at daycare; are there hidden or underlying abandonment issues?

Is your child acting out (angry, disruptive) or acting in (depressed, withdrawn)?

Is your child's anger frequently inappropriate?

Is your child's supreme "self-control" or manipulative behavior really an underlying need to control you, and everything else in her life?

Do you find yourself parenting "around" your child's issues and hot-buttons? Do her tantrums (and the timing of when she decides to have one) control family life and activities?

Does your child whine constantly?

Does your child have anxieties and fears that she can't control? Do her fears change over time, but never really go away? Do they rule where she'll go, what she plays or whom she'll see?

Does your child have difficulty with her identity? Are there cross-cultural or trans-racial concerns to factor in?

Does your child's behavior affect her relationship with you, your spouse or her siblings?

All children may exhibit some of these issues while growing up, but parents usually recognize a red-flag behavior by its intensity and persistence. Worrisome moods and behaviors can fall at either end of the 'healthy' spectrum; everything is a matter of degree, but if your parent instinct has 'concerns', you are wise to listen to it and to seek help.

Finding a Therapist
Finding a therapist skilled in the specific issues of adoption and attachment can be a challenge. Your homestudy or placement agency may have the names of highly regarded local contacts. The Association for Treatment and Training in the Attachment of Children (ATTACh) is a national organization that lists member therapists and clinics on their website: www.attach.org. ATTACh has instituted a detailed membership registration, which is now required for qualified therapists who wish to be eligible for referral. Other highly informative websites that provide names of parent-recommended adoption and attachment therapists can also be found by doing an online search.

Attachment therapists recognize that a child's minor or major adoption issues can interfere with a secure, intimate attachment with his or her parents, and can negatively impact the family as a whole. Attachment is about relationships, and a reputable adoption/ attachment therapist will treat not just the child, but include the immediate family. Traditional talk therapy and behavior modification may not be as effective in correcting adoption-based problems as some of the methods used by attachment therapists. Theraplay, nurturing Holding Time, Re-parenting, EMDR, Biofeedback and Narrative Therapy are popular techniques, and a competent therapist should empower the parents with the knowledge and skills to reinforce the emotional work at home.

When parents are finally at the point of seeking outside help for their child, they are usually stressed, worried and confused. Many parents have had no previous experience with psychotherapy and are not sure what to expect during the process. An initial parent-only consultation with a potential therapist to discuss his or her philosophy and methodology is important to finding the best 'fit' for your family. If you have adopted internationally, it is essential that the therapist you choose is aware of the realities of institutionalization and its effect on a child, both developmentally and emotionally. Is the therapist knowledgeable and experienced with:

Attachment Theory and Treatment?

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)?

Sensory Integration Disorder?

Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD)?

Institutional (physical or sexual) abuse?

Transracial adoption issues?

Does he or she understand that post-institutional or internationally adopted children may also display sensory, neurological, neurobiological or speech and language issues that need to be addressed by a "team" of specialists, concurrently with attachment therapy, for best results?

Domestic adoptions bring their own set of complexities. Is the therapist experienced with the intricacy of open adoption, birthparent search or the data compilation and personal review of a child's pre-adoption history? Many children adopted domestically, particularly from the foster care system, have vivid and often painful memories of living with their birth families.

An informed therapist will understand that your child's present behaviors are in part a consequence of his or her past, and will not blame the child's resulting conduct on your "inadequate" parenting.

Fees and Philosophies
Parents should not be afraid to ask what a therapist charges per session and how they accept payment. How long is each session and is there some flexibility built into the session time (can you go overtime five or ten minutes for an appropriate closure)? Is the therapist available for consultation in between sessions by phone or email, and does she or he charge extra for these services? How can the therapist be reached in a crisis?

Parents should also ask what therapies will be used in the office and what your role as parent will be. Unlike most traditional therapy, you should expect to be participating fully, and interacting with your child in each session. For an adopted child, attachment and security with you is the primary point, with the ultimate goal of the child internalizing that relational strength and self-regulating their own behavior.

Every therapist works a little differently; styles vary with the different kinds of therapists, the work they do, and the needs of their clients. A child may really benefit from multiple approaches, including the services of other professionals from neuro-psychology, sensory integration, and speech and language. Your therapist may continue to strategize as your child progresses through the stages of healing, building on treatment with variations. Successful adoption or attachment therapy takes a creative and united team of therapist and parents to support the child while trauma is resolved.

The timeframe for treatment is also varied, ranging from a few consciousness-raising sessions to a much lengthier process for more severe problems. As therapy advances a therapist will constantly reassess the client's progress and treatment plan, and therapy can be either shorter or longer than originally anticipated.

Parent Support
Support for parents is an important component of successful adoption or attachment therapy. If a Mom or Dad is too overwhelmed, depressed or emotionally burned out to participate in the child's treatment, then therapy will fail. A therapist should ideally provide the parent with educational resources, a parent support group and if necessary, a referral to a personal therapist and anti-depressive medications. Recognizing that the parent continues the work done in the office at home, seven days a week, is vital on the part of an empathic therapist.

Adoptive parents need to realize that their child's troubled behaviors can be a normal result of what their child experienced before joining their present family. As parents, you look for ways to protect your children and to soften the kind of life-blows that some of our children have received, and that no child deserves. Therapy can be challenging work for any family, and it won't allow you to soften or protect. It will open feelings and conversations over the truthful realities of your children's beginnings and will give you the insight and the capability, the map and the directions, to bring your family very close together.

RECOMMENDED READING
Straight Talk about Psychological Testing for Kidsby Ellen Braaten, Ph.D. and Gretchen Felopulos, Ph.D.

Parenting the Hurt Child: Helping Adoptive Families Heal and Grow
by Gregory Keck, Ph.D. and Regina M. Kupecky, LSW

Attaching in Adoption: Practical Tools for Today's Parents
by Deborah D. Gray

Nurturing Adoptions: Creating Resilience After Neglect and Trauma
by Deborah D. Gray

Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew
by Sherrie Eldridge

Adoption Parenting: Creating a Toolbox, Building Connections
edited by Jean MacLeod & Sheena Macrae, Ph.D.

Parenting With Narratives: The A, B, C's of Adoption Stories

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 21:48:04 GMT

"All children struggle with "Who am I?" as well as "Who are we--as a family?" The story of the life of an adopted child "needs to go deeper" than statements of fact. The adopted child needs to experience her story from many perspectives and with both the mind and the heart. He needs to know that the mystery of his spirit is fully welcomed by his adoptive parents. She needs to know that her unique story has its place among the community of stories that have emerged over the generations, among the cultures and nations of the world. By bringing stories into the home and by creating their own stories--together--parent and child are jointly creating interwoven stories of their family history.

Stories need to have a central place in the ongoing development of the adoptive family." (Daniel A. Hughes, Ph.D.)

Once Upon a Time is a magical phrase that conjures up a faraway world from long, long ago. For our internationally adopted children, it is also a phrase that bridges the huge chasm between their early lives and who they are now. When life feels like a fairytale of good and evil, love and loss, reality and fantasy, it sometimes takes a story to create sense and meaning. How will your child see her or his adoption? What "story" will they read into their own lives as they gain awareness of what happened to them as young children? Parenting narratives (stories with purpose) help the child to see a complex tale from different perspectives, and can give a child the opportunity to examine serious thoughts and emotions in a familiar format. They also allow the parent to present the truth in several age-appropriate ways and provide point-of-views that are personally empowering to the adoptee.

Parenting narratives can take shape through a parent's use of

. Children's literature

. The oral tradition of storytelling (a favorite at bedtime)

. A co-created Lifebook

. Adoption videos or photographs

Realizing that there are gentle and creative ways to approach the issues of adoption and the intense feelings of adoptees, and that children's books and story-telling can help provide the tools, is a relief for all of us adoptive parents who have taken on this monumental job without much tech support.

A child's attunement to his or her adoptive parents, and co-creating a Life Narrative with an adopted child, are both part of an overlapping, circular process. The parent-child narratives

Adoption issues are normal. Some require a therapist's attention, but the issues that most often get expressed by adoptees are usually addressed at home by mom or dad. We want our children to express all of their feelings surrounding adoption because it allows us to do our job: we are the responsible parent and we need to encourage, support, listen to, and walk with our adopted children through their personal stories and beliefs.

The benefits of Parenting Narratives are what I call The A, B, C's of Adoption Stories:

Attunement and Attachment -- stories can help teach a post-institutional child the meaning of family, and help him or her to learn to love, trust and feel secure

Building Identity -- children need a foundation for "self"; they need the truth AND they need to feel empowered by their story. Kids can't go forward without a past!

Communication and Connection -- children need to be able to talk about adoption's tough stuff, and they need to be able to count on YOU being there next to them when they do

A = ATTUNEMENT and ATTACHMENT
Our internationally adopted children come to us missing the first steps of the Dance of Attunement. Attunement happens between a newborn and a mom as they learn to pick up and respond to each other's verbal and non-verbal cues. Voice, eye contact, facial expression and touch, all play into this amazingly essential give-and-take; a baby learns she has control over this all-important mom (equating to control over her own world), and she learns she can trust mom to understand and respond to her needs.

This natural dance between mom and baby is the foundation of attachment. It takes place in hundreds of moments every day, and is so hard-wired into healthy moms and bio-babies that it is not even noticed. When a child and a parent are attuned to each other the child is able to self-regulate. This doesn't mean that she is tantrum-free, but that she is able to draw upon the inner structures she has in place (from her mom) to calm down and make sense of her moods and feelings. A child who is securely attached is not ordinarily out-of-control angry or fearful; she is attuned to her mother's unspoken words and expectations. She knows the

A post-institutional kid has missed the early formative groundwork that moms and infants do with each other, and must be taught to attune/attach. It is much harder to do with an older baby, toddler or child who has had their trust bruised, but it is crucial in having the kind of bond (and behavior) that brings joy to the entire family. In order for us to have the relationships that we dreamed of having with our children, we need to work a little more at connecting to them-and we need to teach them to connect to us. Attunement is a graceful dance between two people who know the steps, who can both lead and follow, and who can anticipate the change in music.

How do we foster this dance, this connection, in our toddlers and older children? Most of us are not experienced attachment therapists or adoption social workers, yet we parents can do what moms and dads have always intuitively done to connect: we can create shared emotional experiences with our children. We can involve our children's "perceptions, thoughts, intentions, memories, ideas, beliefs and attitudes" (Dan Siegel, MD). We can use our facial expressions, voice, and body movement to MATCH and/or RE-DIRECT our children's affect and response. We can verbally help our children understand what they are feeling by communicating our own feelings.

We can tell stories.

Stories are universal and personal. They can be utilized as shared emotional experiences, and we can use dramatic voices and active body language to help our children become involved. We can share our own emotions, and help a child reflect back on their own. When we are aware of our children's body signals and emotional cues, we can tailor our storytelling to feed our children's needs.

We can connect on the cognitive level, and from our hearts.

Adopted children may need to re-learn to love, trust and feel safe. They may need to learn about families and relationships-children who have lived some or most of their young lives in an institution cannot be expected to understand the unseen structure of a family, or the role of a mom or dad. Stories and books don't make attachment happen, and they don't heal a traumatized child or cure attachment disorder. But used with a parent's awareness of attunement, they can provide a "warm fuzzy" on the long chain of warm fuzzes that are necessary to build a loving relationship.

CHILDREN'S BOOKS can provide the tools to facilitate stories that promote parent-child attunement. Tools are not always easy to use. reading a story to a child is fun; reading a

Storybooks can assist children who are navigating a new environment. They can be used to begin a conversation or open a topic, and can be personalized to a child's circumstances. Books are user-friendly and non-threatening, and can help a parent find the words that unlock shared feelings.

Parenting favorites that claim and celebrate the nurturing bond between a parent and young child:

Baby-Steps by Peter McCarty

I Love You Like Crazy Cakes by Rose A. Lewis

Even If I Did Something Awful by B. Shook Hazen

I Promise I'll Find You by Heather P. Ward

Little Miss Spider by David Kirk

I Don't Have Your Eyes by Carrie A. Kitze

Mama, Do You Love Me? by Barbara M. Joasse

The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown

I Love You As Much. by L. Krauss Melmed

Hush Little Baby by Sylvia Long

Over the Moon: An Adoption Tale by Karen Katz

Tell Me Again About the Night That I Was Born by Jamie Lee Curtis

The Little Green Goose by Adele Sansone

Hazel's Amazing Mother by Rosemary Wells

Owl Babies by Martin Waddell

Using Books to Create Closeness
Almost any book with any kind of happy or sad "feeling" can be used to leverage attunement. Older children can be similarly reached with a good tale and an exploration of its theme. I read the dog classic Lassie Come Home (the big, beautiful, illustrated version of the original, by Susan Jeffers / Rosemary Wells) to my nine year old, who had been adopted from China as a baby. We were both teary-eyed by the end of the story, and I took advantage of the opportunity. I asked, "How do you think Lassie felt when she was lost and all alone?"

We talked about poor Lassie, who had been abandoned and who was searching for her birthparents-oops! I mean human family. Well, you get the idea. adoption, and the feelings a child has about her/his adoption, can be discussed via a story without an older child shutting down. The attunement came after we discussed Lassie's sad, dire circumstances: I told my daughter "If Lassie had been my dog, I never would have let her go! I would have searched every inch of England AND Scotland, and I never would have stopped looking until I found her!"

I didn't change the sad stuff the poor dog had to experience, but there is always more than one take we can make on every finish. "Changing the ending" of a sad story doesn't mean I stealthily add an ending that is happier... it means that I can help my child change HER PERSPECTIVE of the ending. The truth never changes, but our understanding of it can.

"Changing the ending" are words for a powerful tool: our parent voices giving our children alternate perspectives, choices, and control over circumstances they may encounter in their own lives. It doesn't mean censorship even in the 'protective' sense-- it means empowerment. Words ARE powerful and although they can be hurtful, they can also help heal and strengthen.

My daughter and I ended up in a hug after sharing our sadness (and relief over Lassie making it home!), sitting close together, both of us enjoying the moment and each other.

When using stories to do "the dance of attachment" with your child:

. Infuse your stories with drama and feeling

. Take verbal and non-verbal cues from your child (listen and watch!)

. Reciprocate with the next-step verbal/physical cue (show them!)

. Give actual words to shared emotion

. Encourage physical closeness

When reading stories, keep in mind:
Books that might appear "too young" for a child's chronological age, may be very appropriate for that child's emotional age. Do not hesitate to use younger-level picture books that have stories that touch all ages on a deeper level. The books do NOT have to be about adoption to be useful.

Reading a book with your child in your lap is cozy and comforting. Alternate with having your child sit directly in front of you, knee-to-knee, while holding the book up and open.�

"The most powerful of our non-verbal communication instruments is the face. A child's face, and yours, is a barometer expressing interest, investment, curiosity, joy, fear, anger, confusion, or doubt." (Dr. Bruce Perry)

Some children are wigglers, and have a difficult time sitting still to listen. Author Susan Olding suggests a solution that worked for her family:

"A few disastrous experiences showed me that if I ever hoped to get my daughter to accept me as I am (somebody who loves to snuggle up with a book or twenty), I'd also have to show her that I accept her as SHE is (somebody who NEEDS to move, to think!) So from the time she was about eighteen months on, I built in time before, between, and after stories to shake the sillies out. In our house this even included the special privilege of jumping on the bed. At that stage, I also read a lot of "action" books to her (Eric Carle's Head to Toe comes to mind) and we'd both act out the pictures. I also allowed her to turn pages (until and unless she sabotaged that, in which case I would just put the books away.)"

Use a lot of expression! Be passionate! Use gestures! Some children have difficulty in "getting" non-verbal cues, and are helped with story interpretation through exaggerated, dramatic interaction. Change the tone and volume of your voice (whisper to get a child's attention). Stories with repetition and catchy say-aloud lines are fun to read together.

Be aware of your child's physical and verbal cues. If a story makes him or her uncomfortable, stop and talk about it. Trust and emotional safety are key to attachment, and it is up to the parent to listen to the child, acknowledge the child's discomfort, and take the lead in either continuing the story, deciding to offer another story, or by suggesting a different joint activity.

Story-time can be an example of "reciprocal communication of thoughts and feelings, and shared activities" (Dan Hughes, Ph.D). Dr. Hughes' P.L.A.C.E philosophy --Playful, Loving, Accepting, Curious, and Empathic interactions--reinforces attunement, and according to Dr. Hughes, facilitates the capacity for fun and love. Ask your child specific questions about what they think and feel about the story. Share your own opinion/feelings. "Spin" the story and explore alternate endings. Have fun together!

There is no perfect, pre-determined set of children's books that work for every child. Therapists that work with narratives believe that the parent understands the child better than anyone else, and will have a better feeling for stories that will touch the child on some emotional level.

Narratives are a PROCESS; There is no "right" way to tell a story; if you screw up, there's always another chance to re-tell it!

Dealing with Disney; Disney movies are a particularly vivid form of cultural "storytelling" that children (and parents) either love and cherish, or hate and fear! We can use these films, if our children are open to them. Elaine Hannah wrote:

"Disney movies can be a wonderful starting point for discussing bigger life issues. When my daughter has expressed fear of the necessary mean character, be it witch, queen, or stepmother, I explain that without evil there can be no happy ending. Without a nasty character how would we measure the character of the good one? In life good things happen and bad things, there are good people and bad. There can't be one without the other. I try to boil the story down to the bone. There is challenge and evil, but courage and pureness of heart triumph and everyone lives happily ever after. Sometime on a daily basis."

A Disney movie, like a dark fairy-tale, is an opportunity for talk, and for a release of emotion. It is an opportunity for a parent to attune with a child and help them emotionally "re-write" the ending. We can use Disney to declare what we, as parents, would do to help our children no matter what happened. AND what our brave, creative, strong children could do to help themselves!

CLAIMING NARRATIVES take parent-child stories a step closer and deeper, and offer a warm and caring "re-write" to a missing early chapter of the relationship. Typically, a claiming narrative is told in first person using storytelling's oral tradition, and is used to build or repair an emotional bond.

Claiming and Re-parenting
Mom or dad tells the story of how they would have taken care of the adopted child, if he or she had been born to them. The tale can begin in imaginary-utero and progress to the detailed, daily maintenance of a well-loved infant. Most children, even older children, like to be occasionally babied, and a claiming narrative allows a parent to physically act out caring for a "baby" while simultaneously telling the story. The emotional connection of re-enacting a happy, playful infancy is further reinforced by expressing the poignant, underlying wishes of both parent and child:

Mom: "I wish you had grown inside of me"; or, "I wish you had been my baby from the very first moment of your life"; or, "I wish I could have taken care of you the way you should have been taken care of"

Child: "I wish you had been my birthmother"; or, "I wish my birthmother could have taken care of me"

A child that expresses a wish to be with his or her birthmother is generally not taking a personal shot at the adoptive parent. A child feeling "safe" enough to express this kind of honesty is usually speaking to the loss that has rocked his or her world, and is not trying to be

Dan Hughes said that a parent that helps their child "co-construct an interpersonal reality gives a child the tools that she needs to make sense of the internal and external worlds in which we live."

We parents give meaning to our children's experience, and we help them learn to analyze how they feel and what they think. Our children borrow our strengths, and our filters, and by sharing ourselves (our thoughts AND emotions) we help them grow. Ultimately, an attuned dialogue on a sensitive topic like birthparents could prove to be an affirmation of the strength of the adoptive parent-child relationship. Children's books can provide an introduction into this kind of sensitive parent/child dialog:

"I may never know you
but I wonder
who you are,
and what you look like.

Do you wonder too?

The full moon glows
heavy in the night sky
a beacon of
beauty and truth.

Why did you leave me?

It's soft light
filters through rustling leaves,
making shadows
that play on the grass.

Do you remember me?"

(excerpted from We See the Moon by Carrie Kitze)

Claiming and Family Membership
Claiming narratives have traditionally been used to pass on a family's history and rituals. Older adoptees can benefit from "family stories" that introduce their new family members (Great-Grandma Millie and Crazy Uncle Ed), and that include the adoptee in the group experience. It is a huge comfort for a child to feel that she belongs in her adopted family, that

Susan Olding made audio-tapes for her young daughter that recounted stories from Susan's own childhood, and used the connecting power of a mother's voice:

"The stories on my daughter's most recent tape are indeed 'family stories.' Tales about me when I was a little girl, and a first version, storybook-style telling of her own baby story. The Family Narrative has been so important for my daughter. She ADORES those stories of my own childhood naughtiness or silliness. She likes to hear how her grandma (my mother) responded. This morning she asked me if Grandma was young when she adopted me. I gently reminded her that I was born to Grandma, not adopted by her. For a second I thought this might upset her. But instead, she said, "Hey! I know a birthmother!""

A claiming narrative does what the Story Maven, Sharon Falter, states is the most important reason for reading books and telling stories in the first place:

"Storytelling creates a connection between people. What more can a parent give to their child than the gift of a story? It is a gift of meaning. It is a gift of understanding. And it is a gift of self."

B = BUILDING IDENTITY
"When a child is born of the Bear clan, you've got to tell him what it means to be part of the Bear Clan. He's got to be given a name that fits with Bear Clan customs. He's got to know that he has this whole identity and that identity goes right back to the myth, right back to the beginnings of time. That is strength. That is power. That makes you feel good about who you are. And if you don't know who you are, then you don't know where anything else fits." (Native American / retold by Rev. Katie Lee Crane of First Parish of Sudbury-UU)

Helping a child develop an identity that includes the past, the present and the future is integral for a child to feel whole. For adopted children five to ten years old, identity may be the consuming core issue. Their realization of the blank space in their early family history coincides with the hollow feeling they carry inside, with a profoundly sad result. They don't know who they are.

How do we help our adopted children develop a sense of identity? Particularly, how do we help international adoptees feel pride about where they were born, AND help them be comfortable in the world they live in?

We can tell stories.

"I still wonder about my life in China.

I love my parents very much and I
wouldn't want any other family, but
I think I will always miss knowing the
parents that weren't mine to keep.

My mom says that I am a brave kid
and that my life has been an amazing
adventure-that I have experienced
enormous changes, and I have survived
them all. I like to think about it that way;
it helps me bring both my sides together.

I was born in China and now I'm from
here, and my before and after is all part
of who I am: one girl from two places
who is growing up to be at home in this
big, wide world."

(excerpted from At Home in This World by Jean MacLeod)

As parents, we also tell stories to change a child's view of themselves. For instance, the protagonist in At Home in This World has had sad things happen to her, but she is not a victim. She is coming to terms with her story and it's enigma, and she is empowered by her (and her parent's) particular view of her life. The Family would categorize At Home in This World as a "Successful Child Narrative". The Dulwich Centre, specializing in Narrative Therapy, would call it an "Alternative Story".

"There are many different sorts of stories by which we live our lives and relationships - including stories about the past, present and future. Stories can also belong to individuals and/or communities. There can be family stories and relationship stories.

An individual may have a story about themselves as being successful and competent. Alternatively they may have a story about themselves as being 'a failure at trying new things' or 'a coward' or as 'lacking determination'. All these stories could be occurring at the same time, and events, as they occur, will be interpreted according to the meaning (plot) that is dominant at that time. In this way, the act of living requires that we are engaged in the mediation between the dominant stories and the alternative stories of our lives. We are always negotiating and interpreting our experiences." (Alice Morgan, Dulwich Centre, Australia)

How do we negotiate and interpret these important stories about identity in a way that allows our children to really integrate what we are saying about them? A narrative can help to change a child's reality (or "internal working model", as trauma-specialist Dr. Bruce Perry calls it). Dr. Dan Siegel has been researching the kind of narratives that have the power to effect positive change in our adopted children. What he has found is that certain interactions can model and facilitate brain-integration of the thinking and feeling-the key is in using verbal and non-verbal signals at the same time to help integration of the story take place (language plus emotion, for example).

Dr Siegel uses the word collaboration for attunement, and he stresses that it can be taught to parents to use with their children. This includes involving a child by sharing "eye contact, facial expression, tone of voice, gestures and timing and intensity of response." This also means sharing reflective dialogues about inner "thoughts, feelings, perceptions, memories, sensations, attitudes, beliefs and intentions."

Both Dr. Siegel and Dr. Hughes have researched and clinically validated the importance of marrying thought and feeling when working on attunement/collaboration and attachment. It is impossible to really help a child deal with their adoption stories or adoption issues, without having or fostering parent-child attunement. It is the BASIS for telling stories, and on a much deeper level, for building a child's identity. Healthy growth isn't possible without a firm foundation.

Attunement with our children helps them to create their own positive self-image. Therapist Denise Lacher said, "If you change the story, you can change self-understanding." I just call it "spin", but they both work the same way. When you talk with your son or daughter about their birth story and abandonment, you have the power in your words to make your children feel like Heroes or like Victims. We are all multi-storied people, and we have choices we can make about our life-narratives.

Narrative Spaces
Narrative Therapy uses a correlating concept called "Narrative Spaces", that is helpful to apply to our kids. Below, I am using an example with permission from the Dulwich Centre website, but applying it to an adoption story:

Picture Stonehenge. Between the gigantic boulders that form the circle, are big spaces. An adoptee is used to getting his or her story told by the big, powerful boulders (society-at-large and the media), and has not had much choice but to internalize a demoralizing reality: "unwanted, abandoned, unloved, left on a street corner."

But the spaces "in between" the boulders are equally powerful. A parent can utilize those spaces to bring a different, alternative meaning to what the boulders have proclaimed. For example, the space-in-between: a child who was left on a street corner as a baby and later adopted is not a pathetic, perennially wounded kid. He/she

By helping our children to see the spaces in their story and in the world around them, we can give them a tool that is truthful and life-changing. Words have the power to change; it is a force majeure to hand that power to our children, so they know that the rest of their story, their ending, is within their control.

Lifebooks
A pre-adoption life story, or Lifebook, can help define a narrative space, and an adopted child can better learn to acknowledge the empty places in her history when they are re-framed and normalized by the principal adult in her life. It's all about empowerment; a co-created Lifebook (shared words and emotion!) gives a child ownership of her life story, and all of her thoughts and feelings.

Dan Siegel said that we can "collaborate in the construction of a coherent reality for our child, and help them connect the past, present and future to create an autobiographical form of self-awareness."

LIFE NARRATIVE BOOKS for children
At Home in This World, a China adoption story by Jean MacLeod

Twice-Upon-a-Time: Born and Adopted by Eleanora Patterson

Before I Met You: A Therapeutic Pre-Adoption Narrative by Doris Landry, MS

When You Were Born in China by Sara Dorow

When You Were Born in Korea by Brian Boyd

When You Were Born in Vietnam by Therese Bartlett

Over the Moon: An Adoption Tale by Karen Katz

We See the Moon by Carrie Kitze

Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born by Jamie Lee Curtis

Through Moon and Stars and Night Skies by Ann Turner

When I Met You by Adrienne Ehlert Bashista

The 'Baby' Lifebook
A 'Baby' Lifebook is easily created by putting chronological photos in a sturdy mini album. Begin in your child's birth country, with the earliest referral photos you have of your child. Include photos of the birth family, foster family or orphanage caretakers, if you are lucky enough to have them. Add photos of your child's city or province, the local people and rural countryside (use the internet to obtain pictures if you or your friends were unable to take them yourselves). Periodically flip through the album with your young child, and matter-of-factly discuss each photo. No writing required! This automatically, naturally and regularly makes parents use words like adoption, birthmother, orphanage, abandonment, finding place, Baby House, and foster parents.

The photos also give parents a chance to talk about how the child must have felt at the time of each photo, judging by the facial expressions and body language in the pictures. Talking about the 'emotion' in the photos help children to think a little more deeply about what they are looking at, and helps parents get comfortable with adoption conversation. Use copies of the original photos for a Baby Lifebook, so that a child can keep the album on his own shelf. You can end the album at a first birthday at home, or first adoption anniversary, but it doesn't really matter; the focus just needs to be on the child's life, pre-adoption, and on his transition to his new family and home.

C = COMMUNICATION AND CONNECTION
Stories COMMUNICATE our thoughts and emotions. They CREATE A CONNECTION between people, AND between the past, present and future. Life Narratives are an identity tool that can present an opportunity to use stories and mixed media as part of an attuning activity. Creating a Lifebook, watching and discussing an adoption video, and looking at pre

ADOPTION VIDEOS and PHOTOGRAPHS can be used as a jump-off point to conversations about a child's early life, and can give clues to a child's pre-adoption history. Looking at these tools analytically, a parent and child can discern the emotions of all involved and sometimes deduce relationships, level of pre-adoptive care, and a physical and developmental history.

In looking at your child's adoption day video or photos and the first months or year at home, it's important to talk about the emotions that the baby in the images might have been feeling, and the emotions your child has today watching herself on tape. It's okay to talk about the fact that she might have been scared, or grieving a caregiver or foster family during the adoption, and you might point out how your own happy expression does/doesn't match hers in the video. Ask her if she can see the difference, and can she guess why?

"Where did I come from? What did my birthparents look like... what will I look like? What was my life like before I met you? Why was I abandoned?" are questions my daughter has asked me, and she and I have looked for clues together. We might never find definitive answers, but we piece together what we can and find comfort in the process.

How can adoptive parents make sense out of the sometimes trivial, sometimes confusing, sometimes overwhelming information we have for our children?

We can tell stories.

My daughter and I watch her adoption video and discuss the feelings she had when she met us, that are evident by viewing her reactions on tape at ten months old. We talk about how happy I look, and how wary she looks. We watch her private interaction with her caretaker and understand more about her life in the orphanage. We watch, and talk about the area she is from, what the local people look like, and why she might have been placed where she was found. Without a lot of concrete answers to give our children, a lot of small clues can be surmised by viewing video footage or early photos of the adoption, and of the first months at home:

What was the caregiver's personality? Name?

Was your child healthy, well-fed, happy? Developmentally on target? (if not, look for visual clues "why")

What was she wearing?

How did he play? What amused him?

What was her reaction to you? Is this how she still deals with change? (one clue to personality and early life experience)

Did he look sad, happy or scared when he met you, and did his expression change over the next two weeks together, and next couple of months at home? What do you think she was thinking/feeling?

If you visited the orphanage, where did he spend his time?

What was the atmosphere? Who were his friends/crib-mate?

What were How did your child interact with her/his caregiver?

What were her milestones, once home? First tooth, first word, first step?

Photos and video helped to familiarize my daughter with her beginnings, and the visuals helped me to talk with her about the bittersweet side of adoption. Our video is part of my daughter's life story; it is part of my 'mothering' story. It is a precious piece, because it captures loss and love, and the first tentative moments of family connection.

Pictures do tell a story. but it's equally important to communicate how you and your child feel about what is gleaned from these visual puzzle pieces. An empathic, attuned parent-child relationship will remember the "dance" steps through the questions of childhood, the angst of pre-adolescence, and the teen identity crisis. Ultimately, we want our children to be comfortable with all of their pieces and with who they are, and giving a child ownership over their history is part of a Parenting Narrative.

Attunement, Building Identity, Communication and Connection.

The A, B, C's of adoption stories provide us with some of the fundamental tools of family. We can't be untruthful about a child's life story. but we can help our children connect a narrative that hangs together from the fragments that are known, and re-story the whole with our love and strength.

NARRATIVE RESOURCES

Connecting with Kids through Stories:
Using narratives to facilitate attachment in adopted children

Parenting with Stories:
Creating a foundation of attachment for parenting your child (WORKBOOK)
By Melissa Nichols, M.A., Denise Lacher, M.A., and Joanne May, Ph.D.

Adoption Lifebook, A Bridge to Your Child's Beginnings
By Cindy Probst

Lifebooks, Creating a Treasure for the Adopted Child
By Beth O'Malley

Daniel A. Hughes, Ph.D.
www.danielahughes.homestead.com

Daniel J. Siegel, M.D.
www.drdansiegel.com

Bruce Perry, M.D., Ph.D. / Childwww.ChildTraumaAcademy.org

Dulwich Centre / Narrative Therapy
www.dulwichcentre.com.au

Trauma Academy

By Denise Lacher, M.A., Todd Nichols, M.A., MPAff, and Joanne May, Ph.D.

and post adoption photographs together can combine the most basic collaborative, co-constructive attuning elements of Dr. Hughes' and Dr. Siegel's theories and research.

was a brave, strong baby with an iron will to survive, who overcame the odds. and who is imbued with traits to conquer the world!

Attachment Center

s he has full membership along with her parents and siblings, and that the membership can never be revoked. A parent can emphasize family kinship by telling stories that celebrate connections.

actively hurtful. It is actually a remarkable opportunity to attune: an adoptive parent that meets this sort of sad, wistful statement with empathy, and words of understanding, will help the child desire to turn to mom or dad for comfort.

child will see the illustrations, and also be able to read your face. "The most powerful of our non-verbal communication instruments is the face. A child's face, and yours, is a barometer expressing interest, investment, curiosity, joy, fear, anger, confusion, or doubt." (Dr. Bruce Perry)

I like to discuss a story a little when it's over, and acknowledge what the main character has or hasn't done with what has happened. What would my daughter do? What would I do? What are the choices?

story that evokes emotion, shared conversation and empathy, is a little harder. The beauty of using narratives to adoption-parent is that it is already part of what most of us normally do with our children. It is just done consciously with an extra level of awareness, and with an end result in mind.

steps! What the mom offers, teaches and imparts to the child is reciprocated back to her in a solid relationship-- it is the dance, tightly and lovingly choreographed. As a child pays attention to the mom's requests, and the mom pays attention to the child's needs, trust grows and invisible boundaries are laid and respected....

that I advocate are NOT meant as therapeutic tools. Several forms of narratives are used by professionals to help children who have been traumatized or who are seeking help for specific social or developmental difficulties. An excellent source for further information can be found in the book and workbook from the Family Attachment and Counseling Center (see resources), or in the work of attachment therapist Daniel Hughes.

Josiah's Journey Home;

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 21:51:43 GMT

Josiah's Journey Home...four days of a mother's journal while bringing a little boy to his family..

Day One; January 20, 2003

Someone asked that I give more details of our trip to bring Josiah home this past week with thoughts that it would be helpful to those preparing to travel or waiting hopefully to travel. With that thought in mind I will try to give some highlights and perhaps provide some points of interest if someone has a specific question.

So.....we left Indianapolis on Saturday.......flew United to Dulles, Washington, to Vienna, Austria to Sofia, Bulgaria. We arrived Sunday at 1:15 in the afternoon.........having flown LOT Polish Air in March 02 and having that as my only point of reference, all I can say is: WOW! Austrian Air is the BMW over the Yugo I flew last year! They outdid themselves in everyway..........high marks for their entire group from comfort, timeliness, food, politeness, helpfulness and cost. We booked through Northwest Travel in Portland, OR and they too did an amazing job..........the same flight schedule with a local travel agent was much more: Northwest has a "frequent users" discount as they book lots of European travel.

We were met right on time by our coordinating team in Sofia (only one of the many things I really appreciate about this team: they are very prompt and if they say they will be someplace at a certain time, they are!), and delivered safely to our hotel. As we were not picking Josiah up until Monday, we had a little down time to try to catch up our jet lag.........what a great thought.........unfortunately, we were so excited that we couldn't sleep so watched TV in two hour shifts all night long! We met our driver/escort as planned at 8:15 am in the lobby and renewed a nice friendship while we traveled to Targovishte.........about a four hour drive on a "normal" day...........this day we encountered snow and a closed road so it was much closer to 5+.

Leaving the orphanage..........

They range of emotions at this point is hard to describe..........excitement, anticipation (how much had he grown and changed in ten months?), even sadness knowing that the chance of our returning to this place/people again is probably small. The Director met us outside as she was going to go home for the afternoon (she had working the early am shift on this day) and was waiting for us to arrive before she left. She was VERY effervescent and hugged me very hard and kissed me on both cheeks.........I sensed her mix of emotions also.........she had cared, TRULY cared for our son from six days of age........and tomorrow the orphanage would be much quieter with him gone! (I have told you before he is "mischievous".......another word for strong willed.........which pleases us no end as he has a strong "survivors heart")

We went to her office and while there was much shuffling of paper and conversation, they asked me for his new clothes. I asked if they wanted me to dress him and the head nurse(through translation, said "no, this is special for me to do for him")............It would have been special for me too but understood her needing to have this time of transition and saying good-bye...........while I would have this joy for many years to come. She returned in a few minutes and said he was sleeping........I asked her to not wake him as I knew we had something's to complete and some pictures to take for some other families(figured that a well rested toddler might travel better than a tired one....).

SO we relaxed somewhat..............and about ten minutes later I happened to glance toward the door and there he stood. How can I even begin to write the flux of emotions? He held up his arms and came right to me........ I was fairly sure that he did not remember me at all but it sure melted my heart (as if it wasn't mush already!!). Thumb stuck in his mouth, he snuggled in for almost five minutes before wiggling down. His big brother traveled with me (aka: "THE STROLLER") and Josiah took an immediate like to the big guy on the couch...........they snuggled together while we finished the "formalities" and then it was time to go.......into the snowsuit and out the door...........all very quickly done in about an hour and a half. I was not allowed to see any other children this visit..........sure glad I took advantage of the Director's offer to show me the whole place in March. She explained it is hard on the children not leaving when someone is going home.........that is why the actual "transfer" takes place in her office. Once outside, she again gave me a hug and kiss and said "chou, chou" to Josiah and into the car we went..........what a mix of feelings...........he was such a trouper..........we had much discussion and many jokes about the number of times the car had been throw up in! Josiah went to sleep to handle his stress.........he traveled beautifully........we took turns passing him back and forth and kissing on his little head!! We had a little "unplanned stop" arranged by a Sofia policeman...........we made him a "gift" and were quite silly by the time we returned to the hotel...........more plugs for the Hotel Rotasar.............they are amazing..............they brought room service due to our extreme exhaustion and unwillingness to put Josiah through much more on his first day out...........we did do a bath which was mostly traumatic.............my heart melted once again confirming my choice to bring "the big brother" when the hulking 16 year old offered to put on his shorts and show him how to take a bath.............clean boy, clean jammies, joyful hearts, full bellies, dreams fulfilled, thumb in mouth and off to sleep he went.............not a peep until six the next morning..........

DAY TWO: January 21st, 2003

I must not have bored all of you to tears last night........granted.........some had tears.............

So small son snuggled down in the middle of that big bed and slept soundly: while mommy did not. It was a strange type of night that I wanted to cherish for as long as possible and sleep seemed like such a waste. So many nights we (my husband Brad and I) had talked of this little one and dreamed of "the firsts" that we would be blessed to experience in the days ahead. This first night with him was one of those "firsts": his first bath behind him, smelling of Johnson's baby lotion from a soothing back rub, curls still damp, thumb firmly in place(such a comforting friend, I am sure), I lay next to him and listened to him sleep. I was exhausted and yet sleep would not come: so many times I reached over to touch his cheek just to make sure he really was there. Sofia is noisy at night: dogs barked, car alarms sounded, people passed beneath our windows and the sun came up.

Josiah woke with a look of confusion which quickly changed to a grin and two little arms reached up to be held. What more could a mommy hope for but to be needed and asked for so quickly? We awakened his big brother with a pounce and a tickle........much to the delight of both boys. They chased each other through the apartment while I showered and thought seriously of a quart of espresso to go................perhaps two quarts............perhaps an IV of espresso.............

We wandered downstairs to the dining room for breakfast of eggs and veggies, orange juice and yogurt and honey for Josiah. The ladies waited on us like we were royalty and the little prince had only to smile to have them running here and there just for him! He absolutely refused to sit in the evil torturous highchair and chose mommies lap instead (I really like this boy's style!).

We met our translator in the lobby at ten and were off to his medical exam. First into a small office where a woman looked in his ears and down his throat...............neither of which impressed Josiah in the least. The woman was pleasant, I thanked her and upstairs we went to another small waiting room. The Dr. came out and apologized, called Josiah by his Bulgarian name (he obviously was anticipating us) and explained that he must see two ill children first. We assured him this was fine and waited perhaps 15 minutes. The Dr. was wonderful with him: pulled Josiah up on his lap while he worked on his paperwork and gave him things off of his desk to keep small son's hands busy. The exam was very non invasive and more "procedure" than actual "physical". The Dr. wished us much happiness, helped us on with our coats and we were done. Downstairs to pay the bill..........we were told to pay in US dollars but they wanted to give change in lev. Our translator was not impressed and let them know rather clearly what she thought of their efficiency!! She departed with our US dollars, told us to wait, went and exchanged the money for lev and paid them in lev. She told them she would be back in a few hours with another US family and they should get themselves together before then!! Sure glad she is on our team!

Off to have his VISA picture taken: very specific shot that required one ear to show. He looks like a convict, a very tired convict. Back to the hotel for a snack and a nap for all.........with him curled in my arms, we grabbed a two hour snuggle/rest. We had planned a walk/shop trip when we awakened but found that Josiah was having such a great time playing that we were content just to watch him explore and stayed put. I brought lots of fun toys..........and wastebaskets and paper were the chosen things to move around. Such simple joys.

Bath number two went off with less stress and fewer tears..........another day passed and our little one was processing his changes fairly well..........we were just in awe...........how many of us could/would exchange homes, people, food, routine, clothes, noises, and still smile, play, initiate hugs, and sleep in the midst of such change? I had been told repeatedly that he is "strong, mischievous, and sometimes difficult".................and how those things were holding him steady now. We are blessed.

OFF to the Consulate tomorrow and then..............home!!! Kay

Day Three; January 22, 2003

The end of day two arrived, Micah(big brother, 16) and I agreed, we NEEDED to sleep and so with that in mind, we shut off the TV and found our respective blankets(those wonderful heavy duvet covered blankets.....such a smart idea). Using Josiah as an alarm clock at the beginning of day two proved to be hazardous to breakfast and allowed time only for quick showers and out the door.............this time we called the reception desk and asked for a six am wake up call. With good intentions, we turned out the lights and hoped to rest. Well.................that same elevated level of watchfulness and excitement from night one crept in again........I watched Josiah sleep and counted our blessings. All the determination and "I can do it myself" slipped from his face as he slept. All that remained in sleep was a sweet little boy that miraculously was my new son.......loved for almost a year and now within touching and kissing distance...something that I took advantage of and finally rested while he did the same.

Breakfast was wonderful, the espresso more that wonderful, closer to heaven like (sure that God knows Bulgaria is the master of Shopska salad and excellent coffee!). Josiah ate well: banana and yogurt with honey and all of my cheese from my plate. Still hesitant to drink much of anything offered: milk, juice and water. I rethought the answers from the parting conversation with the orphanage Director............she said he was used to having slightly sweetened tea each day.......ahhhh...........much better response when offered tea. I needed a "brain jogger" but then remembered him drinking tea from a bottle back in March. Once again, he absolutely refused to sit in the highchair and preformed that marvelous toddler maneuver: back arched, legs stick straight, arms flung wide and voice yelling..............we decided that whatever the reason for such strong feelings......we would skip further highchair discussion until we got home.

We met our translator in the lobby at 8:15 and off to the US Consulate. The one stop that I was concerned about and had "power dressed" for...........I think I confused this interview with a previous instruction to "wear a dress"(must have been for going to court if I planned on attending the hearing), none the less, I dressed very nicely and felt confident.......I was however, not prepared for the uncomfortable feeling that came when our translator, with us in tow, cut in line outside the Consulate office. (Side note: I am the person that when grocery shopping allows EVERYBODY to go in front of me because of the quantities of groceries we have to check out). So I was probably oversensitive to the looks we received as we went to the front of the line. Our translator said "all children are prioritized and go first" but it was strange to move in front of people who had been waiting longer than we had. The procedure was easy: slide your passport (and your child's) through a slot outside the building, wait for them to look it over and slide it back to you. A metal door opens and you literally "slide" through into the building. All baggage is scanned (dumb me, the man asked me if I had anything mechanical in my purse: I gave him the camera and forgot to give him the little CD player....and then the batteries......duh...........). We moved out of that area, out a door into almost a courtyard and then back into a room with another waiting line..........once again we were moved ahead of people............a woman appeared and called our name.........we quickly paid our fees........waiting while he really perused the US dollars.......he gave me a receipt and the woman herded us upstairs to a large office where she took her place behind a desk. This is where the big brother, "Micah the Stroller" really came in handy...........he played with Josiah while I worked with the lady behind the desk. She frequently glanced over at the two boys and smiled.........very low key and pleasant as we went through the papers she needed. Our packet was a combination of things I had brought with us and things that the Bulgarian team had made sure were prepared. This part was painless and woman was quite nice: she took us to another room to wait again. Two other American families were also waiting. One by one we were called up to a window......passports checked again............a few questions asked by another very pleasant woman: "Are you aware of his ethnic background, do you know of any siblings, are you aware of his medical need(Josiah is missing his left eye), and we were done with her. Our translator said "very well, we are done here" and we were...........hey, this was supposed to be scary! It was not!!

Side note: DO NOT TAKE PICTURES OF OR AT THE CONSULATE! Very bad idea: our translator stopped Micah before he clicked...........said "not allowed at all".....just a word of warning.

We returned to the hotel and let Josiah relax a little...........he was very comfortable in the apartment but was defiantly showing stress "out and about". He let me rock him to sleep and a little nap was enjoyed by all.

When he awakened we decided that this being our last day, if we wanted to do any shopping, we had better go. Josiah figured out the routine and ran to get his hat as soon as we picked up our coats. Into his sling (being a wiggly wiry guy I wasn't sure this would work..........he loved the closeness and settled right in) and out we went. A big thanks to Fred for his warning that Bulgarian elevator doors swing out.......not slide back like they do in the US! I would have spent allot of time in full panic if I had not known this going into the cute little stainless steal 3 X 3 very small movable box they claim is a "full size" elevator. Sure looked like a dangerous demo toy size to me!

Sofia is cold, snowy, icy and somewhat dirty right now.............kind of that "morning after look". Glad that we chose a sling over a stroller as I don't think he would have tolerated being that far away from us plus the "sidewalks"(almost non existent) are virtually impassible due to ice and snow. We wandered for about an hour, bought some coffee and chocolate (what more could you ask for: coffee, chocolate and a new baby!). Josiah was not impressed with the noise and crowds of people and almost shrunk into my shoulder..........big brother was the one who said "enough, he doesn't like this"........so we headed back to the hotel.

We decided to be daring an order something "Bulgarian" off the menu for dinner..........no English translation on these things. Well ...let's just leave it being said "it was an experience". Our translator stopped by to visit that night and laughed so hard at us..........we had managed to order the greasiest non vegetable items on the menu! Live and learn!

Very very mixed feelings as we bathed Josiah and tucked him in for one last night in his country of birth. We began to pack and some tears were shed...........mixed sadness/joy/anticipation again. Grieving the departure and parting with people we have grown to know, enjoy and respect. Reality of the term "sweet sorrow"...........it is not likely we will ever see these wonderful people or this amazing country again............an ending and a beginning. It was time to go......the next step in the journey to bring Josiah home. Our hearts and arms full................we listened to morning come and watched the sun wake up the city as we wakened a little boy and dressed him to travel from this wonderful place. Time to go home to his new family.

Now..........do you REALLY want to hear about the twenty -two hours that Josiah did not sleep on the way home?

Day Four; January 23, 2003

........I hope that this journal is bringing you some smiles and hope............both for those families waiting to travel and those are just getting started. It is adventures of a lifetime.........what a blessing to be allowed to have one of these little one's join our family.

Day four started in the dark early morning of January 23. We had both taken time to roam the apartment during the night...........big brother and myself. Josiah seemed oblivious to the major changes that had taken place in his short little life...........so many more changes awaited him and he had no idea of how big the day ahead would prove to be. We were grateful that he slept. Bags were all packed...........all that remained was to awaken Josiah and dress him for the big day of travel.

As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes his look of confusion broke my heart.........he had put forth so much of a brave front all week in the midst of all the new sounds, new people, new environment, car rides and picture taking..........now he looked at me as if I somehow could help him make sense of it all. My spoken Bulgarian is weak at best so my heart had to fill in the void..........I wrapped him in his blanket I had brought him and we rocked in the darkened room as I told him of the day ahead. We turned on the light and I began gently to dress him............as soon as he hit the floor, he looked at the bags and his big brother waiting with his coat, flashed a grin and pulled his hat on. One last glance around and we headed for the elevator. We were all somewhat quiet.

Our driver met us in the lobby...........right on time as usual. As we checked out of the hotel, I thanked the young woman behind the desk for taking such wonderful care of us all week..........she shyly accepted the praise and said something in Bulgarian to Josiah............Micah had already taught him how to give a "high five" and he held up his little hand to her and then burrowed back into my neck. We piled bags into the car and were on our way.

Leaving our driver was hard......this was my second opportunity to spend time with him..........a shy quiet young man with a quick sense of humor..........he was amazed that I had brought him a gift this visit...........I assured him he was a vital part of the "team" and we were grateful for his help. I slipped him my remaining lev and told him to go to breakfast.........he ducked his head and gave me a quick hug and he was gone.

Into the airport..........it seemed different than when I had passed through in March..........perhaps my memory was bad or perhaps it had been improved. We checked our bags and wandered towards the gate.............Josiah stayed very quiet during our waiting period. As the plane left the ground, tears slipped down even though I tried to hold them back. Such a gift the people of this country had allowed us...........here he sat in my arms after such a long wait. Exhaustion, joy, and anticipation filled us again...........how many more days of such extreme emotion could we survive?

We landed in Vienna after a very short flight............Josiah traveled fine, enjoyed the snacks and was content to just sit with us on the first "hop" towards home. I was silly enough to show him that we could actually get out of our seats and walk! What ever possessed me to show him this activity? What was I thinking? Well..................we boarded the flight from Vienna and our long day REALLY began..........we walked, we talked (I am fairly certain that we met EVERYONE on that flight!), the flight attendants were charmed so they were at his complete beck and call. The headset connected to the Mozart Lullaby's was a total bust.............evidently the ear sets were almost as evil as the highchair or certainly closely related!! Food is a great thing..........of course.........one hopes that all those new foods are going to stay put because I sure didn't want to see them again! The "throw-up" bags turned out to be our best friends..........not in the more traditional use of them but as trash bags...............he walked up and down and asked everyone for their trash!! He filled three of them and I thought surely now that the entire plane was clean he would sleep a little......Mommy and big brother desperately needed to nap! Didn't happen.....................we landed at Dulles, Washington after 9 hours and 50 minutes with a pint sized janitor still raring to go.............

We only had two hours to disembark, claim our luggage, clear customs, clear INS, recheck our luggage, find our terminal and check in................I was loosing my easy demeanor at this point and was sure there was no way we could accomplish all these things in such a limited amount of time. I handed over the manila envelope that I had been told to guard with my life to the customs man.............he was very nice and pointed me to the INS office..........again...........we were met with smiles and went right to the front of the line...........personally, I think that everyone should travel with a beautiful child........seems to make people remember their priorities. They took his passport and we sat down (well, Micah and mommy did!) the small person had kicked into overdrive and boy was he driving...................within five minutes, we were done and ready to go (perhaps they took pity on the two exhausted adult type people with the small one with the Eveready battery!). As we left the room..........they clapped for our new son who was now an American Citizen. It was nice to be home...........at times in the past week we had experienced a wide range of response from people we met............not all positive........was it the blonde American with the obviously Roma child? Was it the young "husband" that I was traveling with? Was it the "adoption" itself that guarded people's smiles? We will never know.........but as we left that government office...........there was nothing but acceptance on the face of the workers.........thanks.

We actually made our connecting flight............right up until it was supposed to board and they cancelled the flight. Now the tears were truly frustration and exhaustion.........Josiah was doing wonderfully............he had no idea that things were not going as planned. United offered to put us up for the night and fly us out in the morning.............I told them this was not acceptable..........I had told my three year son that "Mommy will be home with your new brother on Thursday and you can come to the airport to pick us up". No way was I not going to show up for him. Feeling like we had walked all the way home..........I didn't know what more to do. I looked up at what I am sure is one of God's "direct front line workers": this wonderful United employee began to speak Bulgarian to my son...........and he grinned from ear to ear! She told me that she just told him that she would work this out..........to hold on for a few minutes longer. She called Chicago to check the weather as she wasn't going to allow us to fly into nasty snow. She made another phone call and handed me boarding passes and $30.00 for dinner and said "head to gate C"............you will have to fly to Chicago and then to Indianapolis but you will be home tonight! She told us she was from Varna...........and profusely thanked us for "loving a small one from my country".

We landed in Indianapolis at 11:10 pm and were greeted by one very sleepy three year old in pajamas that matched his new brother's jammies (prearranged!) and five other siblings...........our oldest was unable to meet us due to a college commitment. Josiah unwrapped from around my neck and went right to his daddy...........a first meeting for them. A year of prayers answered.

Thanks for sharing...................Kay

My Unique Family

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 22:10:52 GMT

If someone had told me a few years ago that I would build my family through the overseas adoption of older children, I would have probably just laughed. I had been a single woman, plowing through the choppy seas of the dating world for many years, but I was still looking to get married and start a family the normal way.

Now, I am still single, but I am an adoptive parent. My life is great, but my family is very different than most. My 15 year old daughter was adopted from Russia almost 3 years ago, and my 10 year old son is newly adopted from Kazakhstan. .

Adopting my daughter was an amazing adventure. I have never even considered international adoption

In 2003 I was asked to be part of a choir to go to Khabarovsk, Russia, to sing Handel's Messiah with the symphony there. We sang at an orphanage and I met 11 year old Alesia. I knew she was my daughter the moment I saw her. I had dreamed about her the night before - even though I had no idea we would be going to her orphanage the next day.

It took more than 18 months to make the adoption a reality. I had to contend with bureaucratic snags, an orphanage director who didn't like Americans, a lack of money, an unsupportive agency, some very negative friends and family members, and a boyfriend who couldn't handle the idea of fatherhood. I was a bit anxious about adopting an older child, but my heart told me it was the right thing to do. Through it all, I prayed a lot, and focused on bringing my daughter home.

Alesia has been home now for two and a half years and is now 15. We have had some challenges, but we are a strong family, held together by love, faith in God, and a lot of laughter.

Older children who are adopted by singles or couples face many issues that babies or toddlers don't. Older children have usually had to learn to be tough to survive in orphanages. Many develop a range of PI [post institutionalized] behaviors - everything from hoarding food, to an inability to show affection, to chronic lying. They often have little capacity to love and trust. I have seen these behaviors in my daughter, although not to a great extent, and she is over them now. Alesia spent her first 6 years with an alcoholic, single teenaged birthmother. Despite that, Alesia is now a sweet, good-hearted girl - she just had a rough start in life.

In 2005, I decided to sell my condo and buy a house with my mother, who was looking for a retirement home. I would be there to assist her as she grew older, and she would help me with childcare. We were fortunate to find a lovely older home in a quiet residential area of Atlanta.

A few weeks after we moved in, my mother fell and broke both shoulders - a disaster. My daughter had been home less than a year and still wasn't speaking English too well. My house held many boxes to unpack. I was working full time. For several days, I was in shock, spending hours at the hospital while a friend cared for my daughter.

When he was able, my only sibling, my brother Bruce, came over from his home of Columbia, SC [three hours away] to help me with everything. If he had not come, I would have had to take a leave from work, unpaid, and I couldn't afford that. I was so heavily dependent on him throughout the crisis that it really made me think. I began to feel strongly that my daughter needed a sibling. I am in my 40's and obviously won't be around forever.

Once my mother was out of danger and on her way to recovery, I started researching, trolling the internet looking at photolistings of children available for adoption. I decided to adopt another Russian speaking child, to help my daughter with bonding, and because I also speak a little bit of Russian. It's heartbreaking, looking at all the photos and wondering, which child should I choose? Which child would fit in our family?

Finally, I prayed about it. I asked God to give me some help, some sign to know which child to choose. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw a listing of a little boy named Igor. He was missing his right hand due to a frostbite accident while in the care of his alcoholic birthmother. He looked very similar to how my brother looked at age 9 - same burr haircut, freckles, unsmiling little face. He was born in July 1996 - the exact same month my father died. This was my son. I felt it.

It took some time and prayer to get my mother and my daughter onboard with the idea of adopting little Igor. He was not too adorable in the photo. My daughter, who had never seen anyone with a limb difference, was appalled. In Russia, people who are in any way not "normal" are hidden away, out of sight, usually in remote institutions. My mother just worried that raising a "handicapped" child would be too difficult.

looked at other listings, but little Igor stayed in my mind. I prayed and prayed about it, for months. Finally, one night Alesia was in my room, sitting next to me at the computer as I looked at photolistings. I deliberately went back to Igor's listing. She shrank back. "No Mom, not that boy!"

I said gently, "Alesia, a lot of people will simply not adopt a child who is 9 years old. He has no chance if he stays there. People thought I shouldn't adopt you because you were older - but you needed a mom. You needed a family to love you. Don't you think this little boy would love to have a mom? Think about that."

Alesia changed her mind. My mother gradually accepted the idea. I knew they were both scared for me to go overseas for several weeks. I wasn't thrilled with the idea. However, I just knew this was the child for us. The agency coordinator cut the fees so I could afford it. I cashed in a 401-K rollover and started the paperwork.

Last summer, while waiting for my INS clearance, I wrote and published a children's book, aimed at helping my son adjust to America. I based it on personal experience, and did a lot of research. I called it Jack's New Family, An Older Child Adoption Story. It's written from the standpoint of Ilya, an 8 year old Russian boy who has lived his whole life in an orphanage in Russia. Now that he's been adopted he must adjust to life in America with his new mom and older sister, learn English, and try to become an American boy named Jack. As he tells the story in his own words, he marvels at the many differences between an American home and a family, and his experiences as an orphan.

I knew what a tough transition it would be for my son. When I had adopted Alesia, she had never been to a restaurant, rarely used a napkin, and never lived in a place with decent plumbing. She had only ridden in a car a few times in her life. I was totally unprepared for how unsophisticated she would be. I have learned so much since she came home. That knowledge went into making Jack's New Family a unique book.

In February 2007, when I finally got word I could travel, I was thrilled to finally be able to get my son home. I had just gotten the published copies of the book and had a copy for my son ready.

After a grueling total of 15 hours flying and a one day layover in Astana, I arrived in Petropavlovsk, Kazakhstan. I spent a month in Petropavlovsk - the coldest March of my entire life! I had never seen so much snow. It never melted. Petropavlovsk is just below Siberia. I have lived in the south my whole life.

Every day, as I spent time with "Igor" at the orphanage, we became close. Kazakhstan has a mandatory 14 day bonding time required before court can take place, which is a very good thing. Every day, I told my son stories about my family, and gave him photos. He was fascinated.

On the 4^thvisiting day, I showed him a list of American names, explaining through the translator [ironically also named Igor] that life in America would be easier with a more American name. He chose "Michael" with no hesitation.

When the judge pronounced Michael mine a few weeks later, I jumped up and down and hugged everyone with me - the translator, the agency coordinator, the social worker from the orphanage. Finally, with tears in my eyes, I ran outside and grabbed up Michael and said in Russian "I am your MAMA!" He grinned and gave me a big hug. Just remembering it makes me want to simultaneously smile and cry.

Michael has been home since May 9^thand is adjusting beautifully to everything - even the Atlanta heat. Despite the fact that Michael spent his first 8 years with an alcoholic mother who severely neglected him, he has a sweet nature. He is the most loving and affectionate little boy. He is mischievous, too - he regularly pops his big sister on the fanny, vetoes wardrobe choices, and mimics his mother and grandmother's southern accents - but not in a mean way. He also doesn't let his missing hand stop him from doing anything.

Michael read Jack's New Family in Russian a couple of times before he came home. I think it helped him to understand that America would not be full of cowboys and movie stars, and he wouldn't get everything he wanted, every minute of the day. He has chores here. He has a bedtime. He has to eat vegetables. He also has a Mom, sister, and Granny who adore him.

Jack's New Family was published by United Writer's Press. It's a valuable resource for children who speak only Russian, because it's in Russian and English. It's great for parents, because it gives them an idea of how big a transition it is for an older child to go from living in an orphanage, to being in a family.

Jack's New Family is also a great way to teach American kids about a different culture, and it tells a timeless story of an orphan finding a forever family. [You can order it at www.unitedwriterspress.com/bookstore/childrenyoungadult.html ]

I have recounted my son's adoption adventure in my blogsite, Jack's New Family, An Older Child Adoption Story.

I hope my story will inspire others [whether or married or single] to adopt older children, whether here or abroad. There are so many wonderful children who need and deserve a loving family. My children have enriched my life so much, and I have made it one of my life's missions to help older children find homes.

� Dee Thompson, 2007

Lifebooks Create Memories Where There Were None Before

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 22:25:00 GMT

What is your earliest childhood memory?� Think really hard, and don't continue reading until you have something in mind.

For me, I thought it was when I was three years old.� I went on a camping trip with my parents in Kentucky and fell in the campfire.� Fortunately, my quick-thinking daddy caught my arm before I had suffered any burns.

Back to your earliest memory.Do you actually remember being there?� If you're like many of the people I've asked, you don't actually remember your "earliest childhood memory".� Rather, the image etched in your mind is courtesy of a story or photo presented to you and therefore you feel like you were there. Incidentally, my first actual childhood memory (where it is truly my memory and not that of a story or photo that described the event) is of a birthday party my parents threw for me when I was five years old.� Now, do you have a different answer to my original question?

With biological children, baby books are often used to preserve your memories of everything surrounding the child's birth and subsequent milestones.�� Rolls upon rolls of film are developed and shared with excited family members.� However, with internationally adopted children, there is almost never a baby book, only occasionally any photos, and rarely an opportunity to hear personal anecdotes.� As your child grows, his "earliest childhood memory" is likely of you!

For the adopted child, it is important to have access to a lifebook containing the images (when available) and story of the life a child has before joining the adoptive family.� The lifebook is child-centered and therefore generally starts at the child's birth and continues with pages about:

�� the birth mother and father

�� the place from which they came (town or country)

�� the reasons leading up to being placed for adoption

�� the time they spent in foster care or in an orphanage

�� people that provided care during the transitional time

The lifebook usually ends with placement in the new home.� It can also include pages about legal documents or court appearances, referral pictures and medical information, and other events or milestones occurring prior to joining the adopting family.� The list is endless!

Creating a lifebook may seem like a daunting task, especially when there is not an abundance of information about your child's life before becoming a part of your family, but it is actually easy and fun.� There are numerous books and web sites available with information to get you started, tips for handling the unknown or any sensitive parts of a child's pre-adoption history, and (if the child is old enough) suggestions for ways to include your child in the creation of the lifebook.

If you take the time to do this, your child will thank you many, many times.� A lifebook helps fill in the missing pieces, creating "childhood memories" where there were none before.

Considering the 'Why I Was Placed' Page in the Lifebook

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 22:43:35 GMT

Someone recently posted a question to one of the lifebook discussion groups I moderate on how to phrase the "why I was placed" page in the lifebook. It seems that what the birthmother had said was that she refused to raise her. Shortly afterwards, other group members shared their beliefs that the reasons stated in the paperwork were not always true and because of that another member suggested that she was goingto wait until she could get information from the actual birthmother, with whom she had recently made contact, before any lifebook pages dealing with "why" were solidified. Following the "wait and see" comment, a birthmother in the group shared her belief that it was likely a birthmother's circumstances *at the time* that helped her make the decision to place her child for adoption.

My thoughts actually came closest to those shared by the birthmother in our group...

�First, I think we have to be proactive when it comes to discussing adoption and lifebook content. I don't think we should wait for our children to come to us. Children have active little minds. Curiosity is at an all-time high. They need to explore. I think it is one of our roles as parents to encourage that exploration and cater to their curious nature. Knowledge is power! If you tell your child her life story and talk with her about adoption topics, the more comfortable she will be when confronted outside of your presence. Often, we as parents address inquiries in public or also from within our family and circle of friends about something related to our child's "adoptedness" or process of adoption. Although your child may hear your responses to such questions, the types of questions that other children will ask of her are quite different in nature. I think it is better to prepare our children for the inquisitive comments from their peers than wait for them to relay those questions to us as after the fact.

NOTE: This opinion of mine is even stronger when in reference to a child adopted internationally or by a parent (or parents) of a different race or culture, because I'm assuming that inquisitive peers will initiate adoption/race/family questions earlier when there are apparent differences, such as skin color.

Although it is not the best correlation, perhaps you could think of the familiar slogan (is it by a cigarette company?) that says "truth...the anti-drug". When parents wait for signs that their child is sexually active or drinks, smokes, uses drugs, is failing school, etc. to talk on those topics, it is most often too late. I am awestruck, myself, at how early children are exposed to negative influences and how early these topics need to be discussed these days! Yikes!

Believe me, I'm not suggesting that adoption conversation is negative in any way...the point I am trying to make is that when parents are proactive, children are "armed" with the knowledge that will allow them to react appropriately and with confidence. Naivet� is not always a good thing and being caught off-guard is awkward for anyone!

Second, there is something to be said about the (in)accuracy of the information put in the adoption paperwork. I'm pretty sure that I am victim of that myself! The way this is handled in the lifebook, in my opinion, is only *partially* based on whether or not you intend or expect birth family contact. Obviously, hearing the words directly from a birthmother, face to face, in the same language that you speak, is pretty convincing. However, even if you develop contact with an international birth parent through an intermediary searcher, something could still get lost in the translation, either by the information relayed by the intermediary or through the
language barrier. Or, if enough time has passed, there is also the possibility that *Time* has caused the originally stated reason to be thought of in a different light. For example, when a birthmother makes an adoption plan, perhaps she is feeling some of the following: fear, worry, anger, bitterness, confusion, doubt -- and makes the decision out of desperation. There are likely umpteen factors that go into such a decision. There could also be outside factors, such as alcohol or drug dependency that play into it. Especially if the pregnancy resulted from something that the birthmother is less than proud of, she may spend the months and years following the birth and relinquishment/abandonment to justify her actions so that she can begin to make peace with herself and allow herself to move on.

How many times have we done something we regretted and then later made excuses for why it happened? Perhaps a birthmother that originally says "I refuse to parent my child" later realizes the lost opportunity she had.� Maybe five or ten or twenty years ago her life circumstances were different, youth may have made her immature, or she faced difficult times. Now as a more established and mature woman with time for reflection, the birthmother may be expressing feelings of love or grief for what she lost and insists that the feelings she experienced years ago were similar to the ones she feels now. Maybe?

Who knows? Perhaps "I refuse to raise her" really means "I refuse to let her grow in an environment where she is not nurtured and does not receive appropriate or adequate care." The ultimate sacrifice!

Third, if birth mother contact is not possible, likely or desired, I think we *have* to use documented details of our child's adoption paperwork.� Denying the information we have just because it may not be true may come back to bite us. If you have a *strong* reason to believe that the information is false and you don't think you will ever be able to hear verifiable words that would contradict it, I would offer as a suggestion:� "The paperwork says .... and while we cannot verify whether or not this is true, this is the information that was included in the paperwork at the time your adoption was processed."

That way, when your child is old enough to browse her own adoption papers, she will not find anything that contradicts what you have (or have not) told her.

How many times have we spoken about something -- sometimes even with a strong conviction! -- and then later discovered that we were wrong.� Admitting when we are wrong is a very powerful character trait. There is nothing to be ashamed of when our original statements were based on a sincere wish to share our child's history with what we presumed to be factual information. You never know... perhaps I will need to retract my stance on these issues! I, myself, could be wrong.

Good luck with your lifebook pursuits!

Lifebooks: From the Child's Perspective!

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 22:53:02 GMT

I have been helping people with their lifebooks for several years now.� I'm always careful not to insist that a lifebook can only be done one way, as each child and each adoption is different.� The parent is the best judge of what approach will work best with a particular child.� However, when people misunderstand that a lifebook is the child's story and not the parents', I kindly voice the opinion that the lifebook, a therapeutic tool, discusses the following:

�� The child's birth

�� The birth parents

�� The reason an adoption plan was made

�� Interim care between life with birth family and adoptive family (if applicable)

�� Meeting the adoptive family

�� Finalization of the adoption, with emphasis on adoption being permanent

Thankfully, there are some, albeit limited, opportunities to intersperse personal thoughts and feelings, for example on the page that deals with your first meeting.� Overall, I think many adoptive parents have a comfort level with knowing their own story and therefore feel more adequately capable of telling it than the topics more commonly found in lifebooks.� If you want to record your thoughts or describe your path to adoption, perhaps consider a separate album, journal or diary for your child to be given when the child is older.� But, if you honestly want to create a lifebook, then remember the focus...the child.

Think of it in this light...� a few years down the road, when your child begins questioning her origins and wondering why her birthmother didn't "want" her (the child's words and not mine) I'd be willing to bet that text describing her parents' courtship and infertility, for example, aren't going to mean much.� If you can anticipate the questions, the text will come more naturally.

Just something to think about...

Why are you writing the lifebook?� What questions will it help answer?