Undercurrents and Rip Tides

Adoption begins with a loss...

It doesn't matter how an adoptive family is created. The story begins with a loss. In preparation for the adoption, we learn our child's sense of grief and loss can ebb and flow. This ebb and flow reminds me of an ocean's undercurrent. It's always present, sometimes gently moving the grains of sand gently to and fro. Other times, the grief and loss can become a voracious rip tide or tsunami wave.

Tonight, C experienced his first rip current...

Earlier in the evening, the family (including Oma and Opa) were playing croquet. All seemed well. C was enjoying himself. Toward the end of the second game, C became upset with a play that he thought had not occurred. Being C (and drawing close to bedtime), he made choices that indicated an increasing level of frustration. As E and I worked to help him get ready for bed (and to de-escalate), he began hyperventilating.

With him being placed on my lap, I began trying to help him slow his breathing and calm down. As his breathing slowed, the sobs began increasing. So, I asked what he was thinking about. "Dinah," he replied.

Dinah was one of our two cats we had been placed with last September (after the death of our 16 yr old cat Bella). Recently, my asthma exacerbated, so my allergist suggested I undergo allergy testing. Among my multiple allergies, I discovered I was allergic to cats. Therefore, we had to relinquish the cats. This, as you can imagine, was tough for C. However, Mommy needs to breathe, since my lungs are only functioning at 70% of their capacity.

Back to tonight...

As we sat together, C worked through his sobs and asked if Dinah and Felicia were going to another family. I looked at him and said, "Since they can't be with us, I hope they can be placed with another family who will love them just as much as we do." With tears in his eyes, he asked if that's what happened to him.

(Insert Mommy inhale and exhale)

Since we know some information about C's birth mother, I answered as honestly as I could. I told him that, yes, his birth mommy was unable to care for him. Yes, she wanted him to be with a family who would care for him and give him the love he deserved.

After a few more words, I continued sitting by his side. I held his hand as he sobbed, slowed to a cry, and began slowly falling asleep. Before he fell asleep, I laid my head on his and whispered, "You're my favorite C in the whole world and I'll never stop loving you. I love you forever and ever and always."

My heart is heavy. I will never truly and fully replace the love my children would experience had life circumstances given them the opportunity to remain with their birth parent(s). Since this journey we call life gave us the opportunity to be united as a family, I will do my best to love my children fully and unconditionally, giving them the love they need, in the way that love is needed. I will be there for their laughter and happiness, when their faces beam more brightly than the sun. I will be there for their undercurrent moments. And, most importantly, I will be there when the rip tide or tsunami wave threatens to pull them under.