Sharing our stories can inspire, empower, connect and sometimes even save the lives of others. But at what expense. There is a certain amount of intimacy within our stories, and it is up to us to determine what information is available for the sharing, and what is to remain within the privacy of our own hearts. It’s a fine line. Sharing this story is something I always knew I would do, in my own way and on my own time. As an adoptive mother it is my duty to advocate for my children, but more important than that, to protect them.

Adoption is not only about the adoptive parents. I’ve had to expand my interpretation of adoption to include the losses that both my children, other adoptees and their birth families have endured. I have learned to be empathetic to the wider adoption community’s experiences, even when they aren’t the same as my own.

In March 2021, I became instant mom to two biological siblings. From the moment we were presented with this match, I felt a deep connection like the stars had aligned for reasons that were much bigger than me. It is a conflicting position to be in because it feels beautiful, but the circumstances are heart wrenching for everyone involved. Birth families, foster families, social workers, adoptive parents, and most importantly, the adoptees. The reality is this, everyone gets hurt. Due to many factors that will remain private, but for the sake of context; we were told by our social worker in the early months of transitioning our children home, that our families experience would be a 10/10 on a scale of zero to hard.

I have always known I wanted to be a mother, and I was never one that was completely set on the process of how that would come to be. Adoption had been on my radar since I was a young woman and a path to family that I felt called to explore. But it never occurred to me that I would not have the opportunity to birth my own child, so the experience of infertility was unexpected, long, hard and soul destroying. Adoption is not a solution for infertility. This is a loaded, layered and grief filled acceptance that requires deep healing. If you are considering adoption after infertility, please be sure you take time. The grief and loss your adoptive child experiences while transitioning into a new home, will trigger your grief and loss of not birthing your own child. If you haven’t started healing, you and your family will be in trouble.

I believe in the magic of adoption deeply, but that magic comes with hardships. Adoption can result in joy but is based on loss. It’s been just over a year since my children came home, and I want to be sincere in sharing that my journey as a mother has been and continues to be the hardest experience I have ever and most likely will ever face in my life. Because it is a lifelong journey. No parent, no matter how loving, can “love away” the trauma in a child’s brain when there is a permanent separation from a birth mother. There are many effective techniques to establish a strong, healthy bond between an adoptee and adoptive parents, but they do not heal the losses.

I likely spend more time reflecting on the loss that my children, and many others who have been adopted have experienced than celebrating my unbelievable luck that I get to be the mother of two incredible humans through adoption. One of the biggest myths about adoption is that it’s a win-win situation. It is not. Typically, every member of the adoption story suffers in some way or another.

One of the biggest myths about adoption is that it’s a win-win situation. It is not. Typically, every member of the adoption story suffers in some way or another.

Adoption and trauma parenting raises a lot of insecurities but requires you to check ego at the door. Although I believe that to be true for all parents, adoptive parenting can often mean sharing your child with the memories of a birth family, the physical presence of one, or most difficult, the longing for the presence or memories of a birth family never met. Because of these losses and the need to build healthy attachment, grief and trauma parenting can be extremely counter intuitive. For months, I could not discipline my children, I had chronic back pain as I had to handle two growing toddlers like newborns, we were isolated from our families and friends not able to let anyone into our bubble until each child attached to at least one parent. To this day, we still hold back on allowing even our immediate family to feed our children, pick them up, and we rarely allow anyone to put them to bed or have sleepovers.

There are mutual emotions and challenges that come with parenthood. One of my personal pain points though, is when our children are compared to children who have been raised and nurtured by their birth parents. “All kids do that.” False. It is not the same. My children are not the same. I am not the same, how we parent is not the same, how my children’s brains are developing is not the same. Our experience as a family, it is not the same. And I simply do not have the time or capacity to educate every person on why.

Grief management and the necessity for a heightened awareness of daily triggers is a full-time journey that demands a level of learned emotional intelligence. It is intense and top of mind all. of. the. time. Triggers often cannot be identified because they happen at a brain level. You see the change in behaviour, you can experience significant regression, or a regular cry becomes an emotional grief cry; you can’t necessarily pinpoint what caused it. Sounds, smells, food, music, seasons, friends, teachers, school, language, birthdays, holidays, vacations, anything, and everything can individually and collectively trigger a child who has endured trauma. A change or transition requires thoughtful planning, but no matter how good you are as the grief manager, big emotions are guaranteed and unpredictable.

*Photography by, Amanda Weldon @belowtheblonde*

To an outsider looking in, one year may seem like a long time or give the impression “we made it”. But the truth is, one year as a blended family means we are still very much in our transition. We are still building our bond and managing big feelings. I recently read the book called What Happened to You by Bruce D. Perry and Oprah Winfrey. The two focus not only on a new understanding of people’s behaviour but also trauma’s effects on our own lives. It’s a subtle but profound shift in our approach to trauma that allows each of us to understand our past so that we may clear a path to our future—opening the door to resilience and healing in a proven, powerful way.

I am an overwhelmed mother, and I find myself spending a great deal of energy educating teachers, caregivers, and other parents. There is a particular narrative about adoption that exists in our society. It feels romantic and I believe gives potential adoptive parents the impression that the experience feels heroic. Unfortunately, that narrative is not only untrue, but it draws the attention away from the most important person in the equation, the adoptee. As a collective, we need to better understand the adoption and foster care communities. I never want my children to feel different, behind, or isolated because of what happened to them. My hope is that we can create a greater awareness that champions for children who have experienced trauma. So that more children can grow up in a loving and safe environment, know that someone’s got their back and have a voice.

Adoption Resources:

https://www.adoptontario.ca

https://www.childwelfare.gov/topics/adoption/adopt-parenting

http://www.oacas.org/childrens-aid-child-protection/adoption

https://www.adoption.on.ca/adoption-awareness-month

Blended, a Story about Adoption

One of the biggest myths about adoption is that it’s a win-win situation. It is not. Typically, every member of the adoption story suffers in some way or another.