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Loss is a part of any adoption. A first parent’s loss of their child; an adoptee’s loss of their biological parents and the life that they could have had versus the life they currently lead; and in a much more minor way, an adoptive parent’s loss of the biological child they did not have. In an open adoption, those losses are much more stark, much more eaisly recognizable. Not that they’re any easier to talk about. Once things are out in the open, it’s at least possible to deal with reality rather than what might be, what could be – and not what’s real.
In our case, we’ve dealt with loss in many different ways, all of us. M had, I think, the most difficult time so far dealing with her loss. I mentioned in my previous post that M had dealt with depression for a period of time, when School Girl was 3 or so, and that we weren’t in contact with her for 2 years. According to her social worker, she had a very difficult time deciding to place. In fact, she changed her mind twice before her termination of parental rights (TPR) court date. We knew a little about the hard time she was having, and decided not to have School Girl placed with us until (or if) the court date happened. It partly explains why she deccided not to have more than two visits before School Girl turned 1. I have no idea about S. I do know that he was involved in choosing us as School Girl’s adoptive family. Once we were chosen, he dropped out of the proceedings altogether. He stopped visiting School Girl at the cradle care family. He failed to show up for his counseling sessions. At one point we were concerned that he wouldn’t show up for the TPR hearing. He did, and also was there on School Girl’s placement day. It was the only time we met him, and we have not seen him since. Before one of M’s visits with us, she had tried to talk him into coming along, but he chose not to come at the last minute. Right now it’s not possible for us to visit.
School Girl is quite young still – she won’t be 8 until February – but she works through her losses in her own way. When she was about 5, she decided for some reason that she absolutely, positively, had to see M. We never did find out why. I do remember it was the single biggest, longest, most horrific tantrum she ever had. So far, it’s the worst she’s ever had. It was awful to have to go through, and have no other answer to her screams than “I’m sorry, baby. We don’t know where M is. We don’t know why she hasn’t called us. She’s just not ready for a visit right now. It’s not you, but a visit’s something we can’t do right now.” She talks less about S, although she does know why we can’t be in touch with him.
On the way home from school the other day, she mentioned something that surprised me. “If I was still with M, I would get to show my All About Me poster this week.” Her class has All About Me days for everyone in the class, once a week, with the kids in alphabetical order. I asked her if she was sad because she had to wait.
“No, it’s okay. I talked to S (one of her closer friends), and at least she and I can do our posters almost together.”
Did she ever wish that she was still with M?
“Sometimes I wish I could see her more. But I’m okay with you and Daddy too.” We don’t usually have huge tantrumy moments about anything anymore, and I’m not sure what that means. I’d like to think that she can talk to us about what she’s thinking or feeling, but sometimes that’s hard for a child.
