I’m no expert. Well, maybe I am. By way of experience, having adopted two children. Maybe I’m an expert because I have a medical background. However, I’m afraid to call myself an expert on anything because doesn’t that mean I hold all the answers? I do not. I do have the wisdom of having gone through PAD though. Yup, I went through it, it was ugly, and now I’m out the other side. Phew! Only took a year.
And so, I’ve decided to share what I learned here. My blog is fairly new and the focus of it was not honed, in fact it started to feel too scattered. I took some time to think about this and spoke with some friends about it and decided to refocus on what is important to me. And that is to bring light to Post Adoption Depression.
I still welcome all your adoption stories. I think we learn from each other so well that way. It’s like a reflection of ourselves to see others struggle with similar issues, and maybe learn new ways to deal with our own. Post adoption depression isn’t shameful anymore than postpartum depression is shameful. 65% of us adoptive mothers are going through it. And it doesn’t mean that we should not have adopted anymore than PPD means they should not have borne a child. To say that is silly.
So to start with I wanted to share something deeply personal (why not it’s only the Internet, right?).
When I was going through PAD I was completely lost to myself. I was a leaf blowing in a storm, totally ungrounded. I hated everything, my life and especially myself. I struggled to get a grip on a daily basis, but it seemed there was no one thing that could help me long-term. But something that helped a little longer than most was prayer.
Now don’t groan. I’m not a religious person at all, though I was raised as one. I needed something meditative to find myself again, to focus back on who I really was, and at that point I wasn’t even sure who that was anymore. I wanted the peace and focus of something to start me off on the right foot every morning, event though I knew by night fall I would have failed myself and my family 100 times over.
I could not find such a prayer, one that didn’t feel like just words, to a type of God I didn’t really believe existed. I turned to a book called Illuminata by Maryanne Williamson. She had penned some good prayers that I had liked in the past.
No surprise, she didn’t have a prayer about adoption. So I wrote my own to help me feel there was a lighthouse calming me to safety while I tossed in the waves. I share this with you (it’s also in my book).
Dear Loving Source
Through a complex journey overseen by you
I have finally been united with my children
I rejoice in this as the wait for their arrival was hard for me.
Our separation made me ache.
Now finally my children are home and I thank you
May I never dishonour their previous life
I give thanks especially to the women who gave them life and in whose body they were created.
I pray Oh Loving Source that she heals from the pain of releasing her child
And I pray she always knows how grateful I am to her.
Help me with the special challenges of our newly formed family
Help my children gain strong identities
Never to be shaken by their past
May they see their life history as unique
May they embrace it
May it never hinder them from shining their light on the world and completing their purpose
And be firmly rooted in the knowledge that they are loved and supported by many
Especially their family
Especially you.
Thank you.
Not Attached
November 16, 2009 in comments | Tags: attachment | by Elizabeth | Leave a comment
A comment by a reader, in part…
“Yesterday I got my first compliment from an acquaintance on my mothering skills and it sounded really genuine. She said I was calm and “non-hovering” unlike many first time moms. I thanked her, but my first thought was “well, that’s because I’m not that attached to her”.
I can so relate. My beautiful Mermaid Princess (her name for herself), used to fall down a lot. In front of me. On purpose. A complete klutz. It would infuriate me. How can she be so uncoordinated? Is she trying to drive me nuts?
Now I can see, without the veil of my PAD, that she was raining opportunities down on me, to step up and be her mother. Set her on her feet and kiss her boo-boos. I do so now. But not back then in the early days. She gave me so many chances to step up, and finally, eventually, I started to wake up to the amazing child in my life. But not initially.
She would trip at the park and I would bark at her to stand up. I was over it. I was not attached. But she was. She needed me to attach to her. She never lost the vision of us. I gradually woke up to it. She was the wise one until I could do it.
Amazing Grace. How I thank the Universe for her now.