e-mail
As many of the regular readers know, my family is in the process of adopting a baby boy from Ethiopia. I don’t write about it much here, because to be honest, there’s really not too much to write about just yet. We’re hot on the paper trail, which is good, but it is also a very quiet time. We are wrapping up our home study and have a fair clip knocked off our dossier already. This is a good thing.
It’s a very good thing, actually, but here’s another confession: the holidays are sometimes a little hard when you’re in wait. And here I am, in wait. Now don’t get me wrong: Bear and Beauty make everything amazing. Thanksgiving, Christmas, everything in between…it will all be positively fantastic. But I will miss him, our baby boy in Ethiopia. Call it selfish, call it sappy, but it is true and I remain unapologetic: I am allowed to miss someone I love very much.
When I was still new in my adoption experiences, I agreed with an original poster on a message board thread about the holidays; I mentioned how deeply I longed for Beauty on such occasions or events important in my family (not that I didn’t long for her always, but the topic at hand was strictly related to holiday festivities). What I meant by this sentiment was something benign but valid. Suffice to say, it wound up a somewhat warm topic in which some internationally adoptive moms thought it selfish and above the “right”, and others firmly planted in the opposite path. To this I asked, and still ask, who has the “right” when it comes to personal emotions? I began to realize that many internationally adoptive moms (and dads) grapple with their feelings on such issues at times. Was I selfish for longing for Beauty even though she had yet to be born and I wasn’t yet her adoptive mother but only a PAP? Was I selfish when I wished she could’ve experienced her first Halloween with us? I don’t think so. I never wished that M., Beauty’s birth mom, had to place Beauty for adoption; in fact, as much as I love, adore, and celebrate my daughter daily, I do not celebrate the fact that her first mom was unable to raise her, even as grateful as I am for the opportunity. I prayed for M. then, as we do as a family now, every night for her strength and for her peace. But yes, here you have it, the cold hard truth: I missed my daughter very much. And I wasn’t–and am still not–sorry about it one bit.
I believe the best gift you can offer a child is unending, encompassing love. This gift can come from a first mom, an adoptive mom, a grandparent, an aunt or uncle, whomever–ideally, it’s headed at the child from all directions. That said, it’s perfectly normal and healthy to miss and long for your child during the holiday season or any time at all. While it’s always best to stay focused on the joyful times your family will experience in the future, pausing to think of your child and miss him or her is not unhealthy.
So what can you do to combat the holiday blues? Write a letter to your child. Beauty has a book filled with letters I’ve written, from the day we accepted her referral to her homecoming and beyond. Feel free to include your prospective adoptive child in your family traditions. For instance, even though Beauty wasn’t born until March 2007, she has a December 2006 ornament for our tree. I wanted her to see that even before we knew she had taken her first sweet breath, she was very much apart of our family and so very loved. Observe a holiday as traditionally done in your child’s birth country. Above all, take this time to celebrate the love you have for your child and his or her birth family.
