She Will Be Different

I think it goes without saying, that most parents assume their second child will be different than their first. Most parents don't have to be convinced of that. Personalities are different . . . birth order makes a difference . . . what worked for your first may or may not work for your second. In adoption, I think it's more than an assumption. I'm pretty sure it is a fact.

I don't talk a lot about the "after" of adoption. I don't talk about bonding and behavior issues and sleep deprivation and tantrums and food struggles. I don't talk about those things, not because I don't think they exist or that we'll face them, but because I haven't lived them yet. It's the road we've yet to walk, but one we know exists. It's life after the orphanage . . . after the gotcha day magic has worn off . . . it's life in the trenches, and it's not always pretty.

Andrew was not an easy baby, and I would be lying if I said that we bonded immediately. He was whisked off to the NICU before I even had time to even get a good look at him. He was born prematurely by emergency C-section. He weighed 4 1/2 lbs the day we brought him home from the hospital. He HATED to eat, and all he wanted to do was sleep. When he finally did wake up, he cried. Between trying to chart feedings and not sleeping more than an hour at a time, I was exhausted, and we were in sheer survival mode. However, over time we bonded, and I fell madly and deeply in love with my little guy. And thankfully, Andrew turned out to be an easy toddler and continues to be easy to this day. He has his rough moments and even days, but he's pretty obedient and he has the sweetest heart.


I was thinking about all of this and about the likelihood that our next experience will be drastically different. Andrew never threw tantrums. I didn't allow them. If and when he started, I shut him down immediately. BUT Andrew has never been without. He has always been loved, hugged, fed, spoiled, and wanted. He knows he can trust us. But our daughter will not know this. She will have known neglect, true fear, lack of love, and quite possibly hunger. She will come from a place of lack.

When we received our first referral, we had to fill out an extensive questionnaire dealing with discipline and bonding and all the "after" issues that we may face. As I was thinking about this, I realized that we need to look at our daughter as if she's a newborn. When Andrew was around 4-5 weeks old, he woke up to the world, and by woke up, I mean he started crying. There were nights when he would cry for hours. There were times that I thought he would cry forever. But I didn't punish him. He was a baby. He didn't understand. He was learning about the world around him, and so I rocked and I soothed and I sang old hymns. Eventually, he stopped crying so much. Eventually, the smiles and then the giggles broke through. I realized that we're going to have to look at our daughter in some ways as a newborn. She's not going know us or trust us. She's going to be full of fear. There is going to be a huge learning curve. It takes more than a few days or even a few weeks to build trust. It takes months and even years. It takes a lifetime for some kiddos to heal.


I'm not saying that we're going to let her run amuck. We will set boundaries. We will teach her right from wrong. But things will be different with our daughter. We will take our time. We will give her time to learn to trust. We will allow her to grow and learn. Yes, things will be different. She will be different. But different can be good.