This is my essay about our experience and I decided to re-post it here on my blog because some of you have asked me, so here it is.
David
The first time I considered giving up D. I was lying alone in my oversized bed. It was about midnight, my children were asleep and my husband was deployed. I was so taken aback by my thoughts that I bolted upright, ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. It was dark, but I could see my silhouette in the mirror and I stared to see if I was looking at a demon instead of D.’s mother.
I ran to D.’s room, afraid that he was already gone. But he was there, lying on his Thomas the Train sheets, sucking his thumb and breathing evenly. I caressed his cheek with two fingers and he exhaled. “I love you little man,” I whispered, and kissed his forehead, swallowing down the knot in my throat. I went back to my room and sobbed into my pillow.
D. was my adopted son. He’s a little boy from South America who came to our home several months before that frightening night. He arrived through Miami International Airport on a Monday afternoon, and I was so anxious that on my six-hour drive to pick him up, I dug my nails into the steering wheel for the duration of the trip, leaving marks I can still see today. I couldn’t contain my excitement. After waiting many long months, I’d finally hold and kiss my son.
I had wanted to adopt for a long time, even before I met my husband or had my five biological daughters. I’ve always wanted a large family, like the one I grew up with in Italy, and I love the chaos and liveliness of many kids.
I did lots of research on adoption, including attachment problems and other complications that older adopted children can have. I spoke to my therapist and went through a thorough screening process with social workers to figure out if I, and my family, could be a good match for a child who needed a home. We were approved, and began the long wait for a referral. When they told us about D., I was ecstatic and convinced that I’d be able to parent this little boy the same way I had done with my biological daughters.
When he arrived in the U.S., our pediatrician diagnosed our son with some expected health issues and developmental delays. His age was not certain — he had been found by the side of a road — but the doctor estimated he was a little younger than one year. D. lacked strength in his legs and had a completely flat head, from lying in a crib so many hours a day. The first few weeks at home, people often asked me if he had experienced a brain injury. D. also suffered from coprophagia, or eating one’s own feces, which my pediatrician assured me the majority of children outgrow by the age of four. Most mornings, when I went to pick him up from his crib, I’d find him with poop smeared on his face and bedding.
But the physical or developmental issues weren’t the real problem. Five or six months after his arrival, I knew that D. wasn’t attaching. We had expected his indifference toward my husband, who was deployed for most of this time, but our son should have been closer to his sisters and especially to me, his primary caretaker.
His social worker, his pediatrician and his neurologist all told me that he had come a long way, and that attachment issues were to be expected with adoption. But D.’s attachment problems were only half the story. I also knew that I had issues bonding with him. I was attentive, and I provided D. with a good home, but I wasn’t connecting with him on the visceral level I experienced with my biological daughters. And while it was easy, and reassuring, to talk to all these experts about D.’s issues, it was terrifying to look at my own. I had never once considered the possibility that I’d view an adopted child differently than my biological children. The realization that I didn’t feel for D. the same way I felt for my own flesh and blood shook the foundations of who I thought I was.
I sought help and did some attachment therapy, which consisted of exercises to strengthen our relationship, mostly games because of D.’s age. He fell in my arms many times throughout the day, we sang songs, read books, repeated words while we made eye contact. We built castles and block towers and went to a mommy and me class.
Still, I struggled. One day (I’m still not exactly sure what was different about that particular day) I was on the phone with Jennifer, our social worker, who merely asked “what’s up” when I blurted out that I couldn’t parent D., that things were too hard.
As soon as I said these words out loud, a flood of emotions washed over me, and I sobbed, clutching the phone with both hands. Jennifer didn’t say anything, she waited patiently, and when I had nothing left, she asked me to start from the beginning. We talked about my family; about the problems my husband and I were having with D. and, as a result, with each other; about the girls and their partial indifference toward D.; and about some of my son’s specific challenges.
For the next several weeks Jennifer and I spoke daily. She mostly listened and told me to focus on D.’s future and well being above everything else. Eventually I told her that I’d look at profiles of potential families, but stressed that I wasn’t committed yet, just considering options.
My thoughts and emotions were disjointed and came in waves. One moment I was determined to keep D. because I loved him. An instant later, I realized that I wasn’t the parent I know I could be, and that I should place D. with a better family, with a better mother.
As I wrestled with these demons, things remained very tense in my home; whenever my husband was stateside we fought incessantly. I felt I was swimming upstream until one early morning Jennifer called, and told me that she had found a great family for D. They had seen his pictures, learned about his situation, and fallen in love with him. The mom, Samantha, was a psychologist, and the family had adopted another boy with similar issues just a couple of years before.
I spoke to Samantha and her husband a few times on the phone and right off the bat I felt comfortable with them. During one of our conversations we decided that she’d come down to meet D. by herself, to ease the transition.
This meant that the decision was final. D. would leave my home.
While waiting for Samantha to arrive, Jennifer helped me to talk to my kids, to family members, even strangers, but most importantly she held my hand when it came to speaking with my son. I explained to him that he’d be joining his new family and that we loved him very much — that he had done nothing wrong. I don’t know how much he understood because of his young age and because he never reacted to my words.
For my first meeting with D.’s new mom, I was a wreck. I dressed D. in one of his cutest outfits, white polo shirt and blue khaki pants, strapped him in the car seat and took off to meet Samantha at a nearby McDonald’s.
The car ride was short, but each time I approached a traffic light, grief assailed me, and I turned around, determined to head back home and keep D.
The five-minute trip turned to a 30-minute journey, and when I finally made it to the McDonald’s parking lot I was frazzled. My hands were shaking, my mouth was dry, and my eyes were red. Samantha recognized us as soon as we got out of the car and rushed over. Her eyes lit up the moment she approached D., and she lowered herself to his height to hug him.
Over the next few days Samantha and D. got to know each other, and then it was time for him to leave with her. That morning, I awkwardly let her into the house and willed time to stop. With my hands shaking, I handed her D.’s bag and some of his favorite toys. My daughters were watching SpongeBob and said goodbye to their brother almost nonchalantly, as if he was just going out for a bit and would soon be back.
I opened the front door of my home in slow motion. It felt heavy and my feet stayed glued to the ground. Samantha told me she’d give me a few minutes alone with D. and quickly walked to her car. I kneeled down and pulled D. close to me, desperately wanting to impress an indelible memory of my son on me, and me on him, inhaling his scent, feeling his soft skin and touching his coarse hair. In our last moments together, I stared into his eyes and told him that I loved him and that I had tried to do my best.
His new mom would love him so, so much; my little man would be OK.
He didn’t cry, he stared back at me, then looked to Samantha and asked for more juice. I was too overwhelmed to utter another word, but Samantha squeezed my hand and reassured me that D. would know I had loved him and that I had done a good job.
The next few weeks I felt a mix of emotions, desperation, relief, sadness, guilt, shame, and acceptance. After a couple of months at Samantha’s home, I learned that D. was doing well and adjusting to his new life. He was struggling with some issues, but I know that Samantha and her husband are the best parents D. could possibly have. They went to great lengths to legally adopt him, to welcome him into their home and provide him with the best care he can receive. The fact that he also has a sibling who has dealt with similar issues has made the transition easier. Samantha told me that D. can’t get enough of his brother or his dad’s attention.
My husband had originally asked me not to write about D., because I’d only open myself up to criticism. But I wrote this essay because D. taught me a lot about myself and about parenting and because I hope that by sharing this experience others can feel less alone in their failures. D. deflated my ego by showing me my limitations. Because of my little man, I have more compassion for the mistakes we make as parents, and I’m far less willing to point my finger at others’ difficulties.
I’m still processing this experience and I think I always will.
I don’t have anything left from D.’s time with us. Samantha didn’t want D.’s clothes, I think she preferred to make a fresh start, so I donated everything to the Salvation Army. We don’t have D.’s pictures around because my husband thought it’d be too difficult, but in my wallet, I carry a small close-up photo of D.’s face, which I took after his first haircut at a barber shop. When I think about him, I take it out and look into his big dark eyes as a deep endless sadness fills my heart.
Thank you little D. for all that you’ve been to me, to us. Despite my failures, I loved you the best way I could, and I’ll never forget you.
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English
Bless you. This was very brave
Good for you. That took a lot of courage to post something so painful. Thank you for sharing.
That has got to be one of the bravest things I have heard of someone doing. I’m so happy for you, your family and David because I think in the end it worked out for the best. It is also wonderful you spoke up about it, because I’m sure others are struggling the way you were.
Thank you Captain and Kelsi, thank you for your kind words.
Anita
Flutter,
as always I appreciate your support.
Ciao
Anita
Reading that was powerful. It’s clear his journey didn’t begin nor end with you, but his life will never be the same because of you. He was nurtured and loved and given a safe space to grow into the person he will become. Moving on seems like part of the journey that will allow him to continue getting more of that love, just in a different place.
Wow. That is one of the most honest things I have ever read. Kudos to you for having the courage to be so open about this experience- and for knowing what the right thing was for little D.
Thank you for sharing your story. You are very brave and selfless and your honesty is sincerely heart tugging. May God shower you with blessings and peace.
-Rachel
Thank you for your kind words Rachel.
Hugs,
Anita
After reading your article, I actually had to seek out a way to contact you. As a new mom, your article really struck a cord. Thank you for being so open and honest. It’s scary sometimes how much I love my son. Since I was older (40) when I had him, we have thought about adoption but since having my son, I have wondered whether I could love an adopted child as much as my biologic child. I think that it is possible but sometimes things don’t work out the way that we would hope for, particularly when you rescue a child. Sometimes these children are too damaged to bond. I think that you were courageous to recognize that you couldn’t provide what D needed and let him go. Although painful, I believe that your primary allegiance is to your husband and the children you already have and it sounded like D didn’t bond with any of them either and made your relationship with them more difficult. God bless you for trying but you should not beat yourself up for this not working out. Let it go and embrace the wonderful family that you do have!
I would just like to say that your story written here is so much more enlightening than how it was portrayed on The Today Show. While it was heart wrenching to read, I can barely fathom how hard it must have been to experience. Thank you for sharing your story, and I hope you are not judged too harshly for it. I pray that D flourishes with his new family. And I am glad that you kept a picture of him. I think you would have regretted it later if you hadn’t.
I just saw you on the Today show and my immediate reaction was my jaw dropped. I am a grown adult who was adopted as an infant. So my reactions come from being an adopted child not a mother. I must say I admire you for being so honest. I also question why you chose to adopt – a child is not a pet that pees on the carpet too much so you give him back to the shelter. A child whether birthed from you or chosen out of love by you is yours forever. As a baby I was chosen by my family – parents and two older brothers – and thankfully I did not have any of the experiences that D had but I did not bond right away either. My mom often comments on the fact that I would cry endlessly and pull away each time I was held but she persevered and would hug me for hours. I was unable to speak unable to share my emotions. As an adopted child I suffered trauma at the beginning of my life – not bonding with my birth parents – this was the reason that I did not bond with my family right away. Any adopted child has the issues of abandonment (subconsciously or consciously) and I have dealt with these throughout my life even though I could not be loved more by my family – I was obviously meant to be with them all along. D’s beginning of life seems unspeakable to me and it is no wonder why he didn’t bond with you or any member of your family – he didn’t know how, he had not had the luxury of being shown or taught that. Bonding and belonging together is what families teach one another. I imagine D’s journey in life will be a long one and I hope that his family will be able to show him how wonderful he is and how lucky they are to have him as his family. Families are complex, always have an underlying level of dysfunction (it’s normal) and don’t always get along or bond. I have a brother who is biologically my parents and he and my dad took years to finally get along and bond. I am blessed that my mom chose to continue to hug me and that my family did not give up on me no matter how difficult things were throughout my entire life. Another thing that can be paralyzing to an adopted child is that if they do the wrong thing they might get send back so if you aren’t brought up with UNCONDITIONAL love it greatly affects the person you are to become. The key to loving a child is that is done UNCONDITIONALLY. I hope that D’s family will be able to love him as UNCONDITIONALLLY as their other children (if they have any other children).
I wish you and your family well. You are a brave person to go through this experience so publically, open to everyone’s comments and opinions. I hope it helps in your healing.
As an adoptive mom when a friend told me about your interview my heart was crushed. For everyone involved. But as I try to do with stories that only show a glimpse I searched for the real story behind you letting your son go. Thank you so much for posting you and D’s whole story. I read it with tears in my eyes and know without a doubt that you did everything you could and acted in the best interests of your child.
I struggled with bonding with my daughter for a long time. At first I didn’t even realize it. And then I just kept living trying to ignore it the best I could. I’ve never admitted is that I wondered sometimes if I should find a new home for my daughter.
But for me, upon admitting that I was dealing with post adoption depression and seeking help and reading I started to realize what the reason for my lack of attachment was with my daughter. I’ve since been able to remove some of the hindrances from my life but am still working through it.
I can’t thank you enough for sharing your personal story with the world. It helps those of us that have struggled to know we’re not alone.
Anita, when I first read the story, I felt admiration for your honesty. I’m an adoptee and an adoptive mother. But as I sat here thinking about it I have changed my mind. I have nothing but disgust for what you have done to this child. Not for finding him a new family. HOW DARE YOU use this situation to promote yourself! HOW DARE YOU tell his personal story to the world. It’s not the world’s business that he was found by the side of a road or that he ate his own excrement. One day Anita this child will become a man. What if he googles your name. All of your press along with the comments of bloggers, their followers and the random trolls will be within his view.
Do David and the world a favor and slip back into anonymity where you belong.
Anita, the only thing disgusting about this posting are the hateful replies by random people. I hope you don’t give them and their comments a second thought. God has a plan. Often time we do not know what that plan is and most certainly we might wonder why He is creating things in our life. It takes strength to own your limitations, especially when it has the outward appearance such that others feel so free to judge. I am a foster parent. Only until we started fostering did I understand the complexities of bonding and bonds in general. We had a foster daughter that I loved. I did all the things that mothers do with her. After having her for many months it became a slow creeping feeling that the bond was not there. She was our first foster child so I didn’t have any other experience to compare it to. We knew the was a long term placement and most likely was going in the adoption path. It was hard for my husband and I to admit that adopting her would break down our marriage, our children, and as a result of those thing; our foster daughter herself. We tried to play out making the decision that on the surface seemed in her best interest, us adopting her. We couldn’t figure out how it truly was in her best interest to adopt her when we didn’t think we would survive as a family. Kids are amazingly attentive and in tune with the unspoken words. Due to our other children’s ages, our family dynamics went haywire. Why should she have to endure living in a home where there was not enough emotional space to live? How would that be best for her? She is now thriving. She has the emotional support and life we could not provide for her. I know understand that those aspects are vital for placements to work. It is never an ideal situation for a placement to get disrupted for anyone. Grief is always going to be the centerpiece for any adoption/ foster care placement. These children need the right people to get them through that grief. We have since had other foster children and I know that it does work another way. I have had children that I had an unspeakable bond with immediately. My most intense grief over a child leaving our home (not my choice) was an older child that left us after only 7 days. I had wondered if the bond could be created with an older child. Could I really suddenly become the mom of a 7 year old? Yes, I can. Can I for any child 7 or otherwise? No, each child is different. It has nothing to do with his or her behavior. It is something that is unspeakable and can’t be pinpointed. My journey has made me wonder about the adoption process and how this concept is accounted for. I, like you, have wanted to adopt before I ever met my husband. He knew it was on my mind and he too began to share my ideals. In fact, we got into foster care with the desire to adopt. My first foster daughter taught me there is a distinguishable (and important) difference in love and bonding. I still love her. She will always be in my heart. She will always be a part of our family. We do still have photos of her. We still talk about her as a family. You are not alone. You are not a bad person. Based on what I have read and seen you did not treat him like a dog, as someone else referenced. Until someone has walked in those shoes they just don’t get it. It’s always easier to think they could do it better or different.
Sorry to be so long winded but my heart just goes out to you all. I do imagine that Samantha has a great appreciation for the work you did with him and that you were part of his journey to get to her! Best wishes to you all!
Hi Anita! I was an unwanted adopted child. My parents had a child of their own a year after adopting me. It was obvious my adoptive mom changed her mind and didn’t want me after having her dream baby. She was schitzophrenic and so was her “real” son and they both hated me–I never bonded with either of them. My life was hell. I wish I could have gone into another home when I was 18 months old–I might have had a chance of having a family to really bond with during my formative years. I’m 40 years old now and the pain of never having family to bond with carries with you throughout a lifetime. Ignore the nasty comments. Your son will go on to have a wonderful family and do great things, and someday might look you up and thank you for doing what you did.
I hope your family never chooses or is approved for adoption again.What if you don’t bond with the next child? Will you be applauded again for “abandoning another child” after he/she was abandoned the first time?
You did make a good choice giving D to someone who would love him.You said you loved D,love is unconditional and you don’t abandoned the ones you love.
You stated you got out of bed to check on baby D thinking he was already gone? What did you mean by that? Were you having thoughts on harming baby D?
Anita,
Please ignore all of the hateful comments from people that have not taken the time to really ingest what your actions meant. They see someone making this decision superficially, and taking it back in the same manner. If your decision to give him back had been due to his “mild disabilities” as the last poster assumed, you probably wouldn’t have taken him into your home in the first place.
I firmly believe that you were crucial to David’s life. Because of you, he had a lovely home and a caring family while God waited for the right way to introduce him to his forever family. And these things hurt, but nothing as complex as a parenting relationship is ever easy, especially in the manner you experienced it.
Will you still be involved in David’s life? Even in a small way? Were your girls as unaffected by his departure as they were by his arrival? How have your husband and you come to terms with this experience? Has it strengthened your bonds of family? as parents? Will you adopt again?
I hope that you do. The love and thought that you put into your thoughts for David seem like ones of true motherhood. You understood what it would take to raise him, and rose to it. You also understood what he wasn’t receiving in your care, and what you weren’t receiving from him or giving to him, and you found him a family that he bonded more fully with. Severing a mothering relationship can never be easy, but I hope you find peace.
God Bless you, momma. You are a wonderful woman.
Holly
sweet.pea.passion@gmail.com
Anita,
I do applaud your honesty and vulnerability in this piece. But I am left to conclude that you lack the self reflection required to even consider adoption. If David truly has an “attachment disorder”, the worst thing one could do is exactly what you have done– pass him on to someone else. The first 3 years of a child’s life are most crucial to emotional and cognitive development. Do you think it is fair that this child has been passed over so many times? Did you receive that kind of treatment as a child, and if not, what makes you feel you have the right to do such a thing to this boy? You are an ADULT, and as such you have an obligation to think through your actions before they harm the lives of others, especially those you supposedly “love.” This boy is just a child! I think you let yourself off the hook too easily when you said that you “did not fail him.” You did fail him, and you should be honest with yourself and live with that awareness.
If you did “research” on adoption, you would know that it is considered equivalent to birthing a child. Would you ever consider giving up one of your biological children because you were unable to “bond” with them?
I know that you might dismiss any negative comments to this blog and reply only to those who congratulate and applaud you for your “bravery.” If you are truly the journalist you aspire to be, I invite you to address some of the more difficult questions raised here and revisit the question of whether or not you can honestly say that you have done this poor child no harm. By the way, he is not “your little man”– I don’t understand why you refer to him as such.
I also would like to see your responses to the negative posts, not just the positive ones. You are presenting yourself as a journalist, so that is a basic expectation.
I agree with the analogy of that you treated the adoption of a child like getting a puppy from the pound. What research did you do before adopting? You must have known that adoptive kids often have serious problems with attachment as well as developmental delay. so, why then did you do it?
I think you romanticized the idea of a big family with lots of kids around without recognizing what kind of responsibility that is. Next time, take some responsibilities for your decisions. And stop crying for the camera.
I think you are disgusting.
I love the eloquence and good points that people bring to the blog. It always makes for a good read.
BTW – people if you like to leave more than one comment under different pseudonyms make sure you use a different computer I do see your IP address and haven’t disallowed comments so you can post as many times as you like with the same name.
Good Day
Anita
hi Anita,
My wife and I both used the same computer– we did not use pseudonyms.
Still waiting for a response to the critiques listed here; or are you not able to do that for some reason? In which case I don’t believe you can continue to self identify as a journalist.
good luck to you.
That’s very funny because I actually wasn’t referring to you, but good to know.
You don’t want response you would like to engage in an argument which consists in attacks on your part, You’ve already drawn your conclusions and the great thing is everyone is entitled to an opinion. I’ve already explained in my essay and interview what we did and why we thought we were a good family for a child and what led us to believe that the best match for him was another family.
This is a personal blog it’s separate from my journalism or any of the work that I do for publications.
The reason why I leave my comments open is so that if someone would like to comment or express their opinions they can. It by no means requires a response.
“Next time, take some responsibilities for your decisions. And stop crying for the camera” I’m not certain what kind of answers you seek except I suggest looking inside yourself perhaps that’s where the answer to your anger resides.
Good day
Anita
Thank you for replying– I guess we will have to agree to disagree. Please review the thoughtful comments of all those who replied and look carefully within yourself as well.
good luck.
First, I think it’s disgusting that you plan on writing a book, that you will make a profit off of this terrible situation. I have no understanding how all the focus seems to be on you, when it is this little boy who is the obvious victim.
“I wrote this essay because D. taught me a lot about myself and about parenting and because I hope that by sharing this experience others can feel less alone in their failures. D. deflated my ego by showing me my limitations.”
I don’t believe you wrote this essay to share your experience, but to get fifteen minutes of fame. You took another life in your hands, a life that had already been through hell, and you expected him to bond with you in 18 months? Seriously? I could commend you on your honest and bravery if I thought you were actually being honest and brave. Honestly, I think you are still lying to yourself.
I am glad that little boy is no longer in your home. He deserves better. The fact that your girls had no real objection or worry when he left says a lot about how much you tried.
A.
I can not believe that you actually left out the part about you being pregnant when you adopted.. and purposefully not telling the agency.. or the fact that you went on to have another after D’s adoption.
You a horrible example to any one who is suffering real adoption disruption and has tried.. how can you give it your all, when you are busy with 2 other babies.. accept the fact that you failed and you can not blame a baby for not bonding.
I first learned about your disrupted adoption this afternoon and have spent a lot of time reading everything I can about it. Your letter was so touching to me because I live with many of the same thoughts about my own adopted son.
People who have not been a mother to a child that cannot attach do not understand. It is one thing to live with a child who is indifferent, it is another to love a child and be rejected by them over and over…day after day. It is excruciating. It hits a level so deep and so primal in a mother it is indescribable.
Our son is 5 now. He was almost 3 when he came to live with us. We thought we were prepared and we thought we knew what we were getting ourselves into. I laugh now, because we had no idea.
I am sure that if we had children under the age of 10, we would not have been able to keep him living with us. Mostly because it would not be safe for anyone. What people do not understand is that children with severe attachment issues believe that love equals death. They will fight love with whatever they can. When they are young, this is rejection. As they get older it can get more dangerous. We are lucky, I am able to be home with our son and focus only on him. My only bio-child is 19 and he and the animals have learned to take cover when it is unsafe.
Some days I don’t believe I can go on anymore. After three years I love him with all my heart. But it comes at such a huge price. Most days my son tolerates me. Sometimes he almost loves me. Often, my love is too dangerous for him and he attacks me. Fortunately we have a lot of support, and we have made a lot of progress.
I applaud you for realizing your “limitations” and finding an appropriate home for D. Perhaps your limitations are your strengths, too. I have heard of many stories where the children are not so lucky and wind up in terrible situations.
Thanks for sharing. It DOES help for those of us actually going through it.
You are a brave and introspective woman who has made a terribly difficult decision in order to provide the best outcome for D and for your biological children.
He is now with people who can and will love him unconditionally. Without you, he would never have found them.
You should be applauded for your actions and for your honesty. I believe that bringing your story into the public arena will help many many other families who are suffering in similar issues.
I think it’s absurd and unreasonable for anyone to judge you unless they have walked a mile in your shoes.
may peace be with you and your family, i cannot imagine your struggle
Wow. So if one of your daughters has some rough teens years…I am expecting you to give her away, right? I think it is sick that people are giving you a pat on the back for this like you did something noble. Are we serious here? You just screwed up a screwed up kid. Granted, he is better of without you and with someone who can love him as their own. I am an adoptive parent and I am so disappointed in you. And disappointed that your agency thought you would be a fit parent. Because you are not.
Oh, and HOW AWESOME IS IT THAT NOW YOU CAN PROFIT FROM YOUR FAILURE AND BE ON THE TODAY SHOW! WOW, CONGRATS…I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE STOOP SO LOW FOR A LITTLE FAME.
I’m praying for you and for David. I’m not someone to cast judgment on your actions in regards to adopting him, especially since I don’t know all the details. I do think you made the right decision in the end by giving him up to a loving family. It’s not like you simply threw him to the wolves and I hope you find peace in this decision.
I usually sign comments on something controversial such as this as “Anonymous” but I thought it might do you some good to get positive feedback from a “real” person.
Poor, sweet David. May he find the acceptance elsewhere that he was unable to find here.
Dear Anita– you have my understanding and support.
My first son (now 16) was born two months early, and they told me he might have trouble bonding due to his extended hospital stay, but he never did, and we had/have an incredible bond, even though he has never been a warm, huggy child.
I was thrilled to give birth to a second son two years later, and absolutely in love with that beautiful new baby. However, right from the start he didn’t seem to need me– instead of falling asleep in my arms he’d push away from the breast after eating and want to be left alone.
I thought he was my easy baby, because he wasn’t needy like his older brother, but that very quality nagged me. I loved him, but even though he was the warm and huggy one, he wasn’t bonding to me in the same way as his brother.
I loved him regardless, didn’t give it a second thought, and enjoyed his quiet disposition and other attributes. But as he aged, it became more evident that something was amiss. There was a wall between us and it had nothing to do with my parenting or love for my son. Instead, it was the wall of autism.
Luckily my son has a mild case that does not affect his cognitive abilities, and our bond has grown stronger and stronger over the years. We’ve climbed that wall together because we share so many of the same traits, interests, perspectives– turns out we’re joined at the mind– but it’s the biology of genetics that has given us that edge.
When I read about David having a flat head and playing in feces, and the lack of bonding, the first thing I thought was this is a child with either autism or one of the several genetic conditions that present with autistic traits. I often hear parents talk about a flat head from lying on the back in a crib, but a flat head can also be a dysmorphic feature found in children with autism and other genetic conditions. Since David was found to have development delays, I’d say there is a good chance he’ll ultimately be diagnosed with something along these lines. Diagnosis is very often delayed in adoptive children because it’s assumed their “trauma” is what has caused the delay.
Most children with autism do bond with others, but the bonding can feel very different than “typical” bonding, and depending on many factors, can take years to become mutual. It sounds like this is what you were trying to express. It’s not that you loved your daughters more, it’s that there was something going on with David that prevented a “natural feeling” bond from developing. You could sense a difference but didn’t know what it was.
Please disregard those who call you selfish or irresponsible. The only irresponsible party was the one who left David by the side of a road. You were an intercessor, plain and simple. It’s easy for others to say you could have found a way to help David, but there is no way to predict that. In my opinion you did the right thing for David and for your own family. You not only recognized, within a matter of months, that there was something terribly wrong that you were not capable of resolving, but you found a person with the perfect background to get David the help he’s going to need.
Wow what a story. That had to be the most difficult thing ever! I have to say very unselfish of you to give him up. You did what was best for the child that is amazing and most of us couldn’t or wouldn’t do the same.
You are very courageous for sharing your story. My husband and I adopted our 3 foster daughters 5 years ago. We also have a an adopted son who was also our foster child. We got him at birth, but our girls were preschool age. We are bonded very strongly with our son. We have tried everything to try to bond with our daughters, but they just don’t respond. They don’t see us as their parents, and they still wish they could be with their bio-mom who abused them (including sexual abuse). We have found out since the adoption that their caseworker kept some information from us, such as the details of their abuse. All 3 of them have tried to hurt our son, including trying to smother him with a pillow and knock him down the stairs. They have even admitted that they want to hurt him. We have to lock our bedroom door, and our son’s door at night, and we recently had to buy a safe because one of our daughters was stealing money and jewelry; she is only 9, by the way. The girls have done very destructive things as well, including clogging drains and toilets, urinating on the carpet, tearing down window shades. No form of discipline effects them, and they are never remorseful for their actions. We haven’t pursued reversing the adoption because we are afraid of what would happen legally, but clearly, they will never view us as their parents, or respect us at all. These girls are destroying our home and our property, our family, and our marriage, and I deeply regret adopting them, especially since we weren’t told many details about their lives before coming here. They absolutely refuse to bond with or attach to us, because don’t want to be here. I applaud you for your honesty. I wish we could reverse our daughters’ adoption, but I just don’t know where to begin. And to all of those out there who are making judgments, you cannot possibly understand what this is like if you haven’t been there. It is good that you did this when D. was so young, rather than waiting, because it would’ve been much more difficult. May God bless you and your family.
There will always be people that agree, and that don’t agree with you. Especially those that have never parented a child such as David. Be strong and know that you have indeed done the best that you could, both for this child (now in the home that may not have been available for him before you helped him), and for the countless others who have had to say goodbye while their family, friends and strangers just couldn’t understand. May God bless you and let you know that you have succeeded, by trying, by realizing, by finding a family for David, and by still caring.
Anita, your essay and struggle over David moved me. Never mind the naysayers. They REALLY have no idea what it was like. And selfish? Really? You people who says this about this woman are whack jobs.
You did the very best you could and there was no way to predict how it would turn out. You recognized what David needed and that it wasn’t a good match for your family and for David. It takes a massive amount of strength and introspection to do something like this.
There will always be the ignorant whack jobs out there who will try to knock someone down. Just know that for every three or four of those, there is someone who understands. And even if you can reach just one person, it may make a difference.
I wish nothing but the best for you, your family, and David.