I like seeing this sticker that's on my bathroom mirror for the week, because it's a sign that we're about to set out on an adventure.
This is a good time for me, and I think for Mike, too...he is always coming into my studio to tell me that he can't think about anything but Flynn these days. This morning, he lay in bed for ten extra minutes, imagining taking her on her first walk around the neighborhood.
For me, this is a sweet time, a honeyed time, a time of drifting and dreaming. As I've mentioned, January, February and March were a bit rough for me. That stage was the worst of the wait, when the unknowns and the unknowables really started to wear on my nerves. But, as tends to be true in life, there was a payoff, and this is it.
Our referral was the beginning of a phase of peace for me, and these weeks before leaving are the best of times. In spite of that rather stressful (if amusing) dream I had the other night, I am at my most relaxed these days. I sleep soundly and wake feeling happy and light. My head is clear, and I'm able to work with clarity and ease. My soul is happy.
There has been a lot of talk lately about the trauma of adoption, both as it affects children and parents. I think it's a good thing that this subject should come to light. I think that post-traumatic stress in adoptive children is a subject in which all prospective adoptive parents should educate themselves thoroughly. I also think that all adoption agencies should provide resources, reading lists, classes, post-adoptive intervention for those who need it. Like it or not, it is a reality. I think the effects of trauma on adoptive parents are less well-publicized than its effects on children, and less understood. I hope that more people will write about it as time goes on, and that the resources will grow.
We were lucky in that our state requires numerous class-hours of study on adoption issues prior to the adoption itself, and our agency here in Denver provides some excellent classes on subjects like attachment, trauma, grief and loss. While not comprehensive, the classes were an excellent foundation, and we were able to use them as a springboard for our self-education. We went on to read some wonderful books like Attaching in Adoption: Practical Tools for Today's Parents (Deborah D. Gray) and Toddler Adoption: The Weaver's Craft (Mary Hopkins-Best), which do a terrific job of explaining the effects of loss, institutionalization, and adoption, and the best ways of repairing the damage that is done. I was most fascinated to learn about the physiological effects of institutionalization on the brain of a child, which shows in very concrete terms why children react the way they do post-adoption, and how the atrophied pathways in their brains can, in fact, be repaired.
While it helps to know these things on an intellectual level, I doubt that any amount of book-learning can prepare a parent entirely for the reality of those first weeks with their terrified, traumatized or numb child. I am additionally very grateful for the shared experience of many fellow adoptive parents who have offered me their personal experiences and their emotional journey, and helped fill in some of the gaps. I know that we really will know nothing until we meet our child in person, and I know that we will struggle along with her, learn along with her, and find our way together.
I think that we are as prepared as we can be, intellectually. And, at this point, I'm not feeling afraid. What bigger adventure, what greater learning experience could there be in life than what we are about to experience? I don't feel that I have a preconception of who QiuQiu will be. She is, at the moment, a great mystery to me. I have no doubt that she will surprise me. I am honored to have the chance to get to know her, to learn from her, and to let her tell me who she is. I feel lucky to have this opportunity. I'm ready to close my eyes and go off the high-dive, cold as the water may be. I can't wait to begin this incredible learning experience, even if it is a trial by fire.