Monday, August 3, 2009

Adoption: The Dream and the Reality


Someone sent me an email with this picture in it today, it was sent as a commentary in life in general. But it started me thinking about adoption. I think for many adoptive parents, we start out on this journey expecting to find a pot of gold. We often end up, though, as a porta-john, a disposable dumping ground for all the pain and anger in our children's lives. We are told that with love and stability, our children will heal and become productive members of society. We dream of the day when we will visit them in their homes, and take pride in their careers and our grandchildren.

Too often the damage is too great, and our children will never live up to our dreams for them. We downsize our dreams. Instead of dreaming of a lawyer, we dream of someone who is able to stay out of jail. Instead of dreaming of a teacher, we hope for someone who will finish high school. Instead of dreaming of marriages and children, we pray they stay out of abusive relationships and worry about the safety of our grandchildren. It's not just the big dreams that are compromised.

I knew Daughter was having a rough day, so I fixed a salad she loves for supper. I was planning to go for a walk while she was gone, but I remember she's always saying we should walk together when she gets home from the workshop, so I held off until we could go together.

She got home and I told her to check out the bowl in the refrigerator. She did, but with no enthusiasm. She began her sighing and moaning that indicates she's in great physical pain (since she won't talk about her emotional pain, it comes out in vague physical symptoms). I told her we were going for a walk. She told me she wasn't. I insisted, so she ran 2 houses ahead of me and then turned around and headed back for the house, telling me she was done. I stopped her, and explained that we were always talking about walking together, and I had thought this would be a good day to begin. She reluctantly turned around, but then started in with her verbal abuse.

I told her to forget it and turned around and headed back to the house. She was shocked. I told her I had tried to do some nice things to make up for her bad day, but she'd been verbally abusive since she got home, and I wasn't going to listen to it anymore. She then informed me I had never cared for her and that was her whole problem, the fact that I didn't give a damn about her. Yes, the preacher's kid in Tiny Village went storming up the street swearing and telling the world about how terrible I am. I said, "Stop it!" She informed me that was it, she was packing her stuff and leaving. I told her that wasn't the point. She stormed to her room, and after several door slams, began throwing things at her door. There is now silence, so I suspect she has gone to sleep.

We have good days, and I am grateful she is in my life. But too often I am her dumping ground. I have watched my dreams for her vanish as she becomes more dependent and requires more one on one supervision with each passing month. For me, the end of the adoption rainbow didn't hold a pot of gold. Love and structure were not enough. Yes, she has healed. Yes, she has made progress. When she came to me she had shut off her hearing and was nonverbal. She was shutting out the world to protect herself from the horrors of an abusive family. Even with all the healing, her adult life is not about discovering her independence, but about proving to me that she can't live without me, and then punishing me because she can't.



I do not regret adopting her, but I have not become an advocate for adoption, either. How could I wish this life on anyone? How could I let anyone set off thinking they would find a pot of gold and discover a porta-john instead? Yes, I know there are adoption success stories, and I am happy for those families. But there is also a great deal of pain in adoption, and that pot of gold is too often elusive.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

YEP YEP YEP. THE NEGATIVITY IS VERY WEARING. Sorry for the caps. But I know you understand. prayers, owl

angela said...

Very honest post. If we didn't have the rainbow in our eyes, none of us would be parents at all I guess. Seems like adoptive children are as full of all that drama as the rest of children.

My husband used to say "lets get 'em young enough we can warp em our own way." Of course we can already tell that that is not going to work.

Teens. Are. Impossible. All of them seem that way anyway. I hope you have someone to talk to beyond the computer...

Reverend Mom said...

Owl,
That club of understanding is not a fun club to be in. How's your daughter doing with school and life?

Angela,
I think adoptive children have more drama-- they have a primal wound, and have a very difficult time trusting their parents. Daughter still has trouble trusting me-- even for little things, like getting her to softball games. Every so often I ask her when she's going to learn to trust me. I'll always remember her answer on one such occasion, "How can I trust you when I can't even trust myself?" I do have friends beyond the computer, but in this isolated corner of the world, it is through the computer that I connect with other adoptive parents of damaged children.

In Tiny Village most people think it's terrible that I medicate Daughter. I think it's better than having her go through life hearing voices telling her to kill me. They think she's making all of that up. They think she was too young when she was molested for it to have had any impact on her-- it continued until she was almost 3. They think her problems are my creation. But even in Tiny Village there are those who approach me with great caution to tell me stories of the sexual abuse in their families. They know I will understand.

Fortunately, we have an excellent therapist. That helps.

Anonymous said...

I agree. When young people tell me that they think they will adopt in order to make a family for a child who would otherwise not have family I say "don't do anything rash. Talk with me first." I'm not an advocate for adoption, especially of older (older than 2) through the public system. I'm not sure that there are any families strong enough to survive traumatized kids.
But you and I and many others are into it now, so I guess we need each other to help us survive the siege. It's not the fault of the kids, but it's really hard to like their behavior. Maeve

Anonymous said...

I love rainbows, but hate being the porta potty.

Hugs,
Chris

Reverend Mom said...

Maeve and Chris,
Amen!