My daughter Natasha was adopted from Ukraine when she was 3.5 years old. And for some reason today…. I asked her what she thought was an important topic concerning Ukrainian adoption.
Her answer:
You have to do lots of paperwork… the process… the procedures.
And then you have to travel on a plane.
And then you do more paperwork to complete the adoption.
But then…. after a while… that is when love grows. That is the important part.
My darling is a smart cookie. She is almost 10 years old and has a good understanding that love is an action.
I didn’t love my daughter when I met her. In fact when I tell her adoption story, I will say something like:
I first saw you taking a nap. I looked at you for 5 seconds and thought that I could be your Mama.
I did not love you. You did not love me. We were strangers. But I thought we could love each other. I thought that we could be family.
You were not pretty. You had gray skin and were drooling on your pillow. You were sick with a cold. I don’t know anyone who is pretty when they are sick.
Luda shook you awake and told you that Mama arrived.
You were very confused. What was a Mama?
Side note: I was uncertain how to tell Natasha’s adoption story. There are certain aspects that aren’t pleasant. So I consulted with a children’s psychologist. She provided suggestions and coached me. She told me to be concrete. Natasha loves the little details like the drooling and gray skin.
Anyway, over the years I have expanded on the story. And we discussed when love started. Neither of us can pin point a particular date. But it did happen during Natasha’s first year home.
Right before I traveled to Ukraine to adopt my child, a coworker decided to provide some helpful advise. He informed me that I would never love my adopted child the same way that I would love a biological child. Loving an adoptive child was a second class love.
UGH!
Well I was surprised to see that my coworker isn’t alone. Rebecca Walker just had her book, Baby Love, published. And the New York Times printed a review of the book.
for Ms. Walker, being a stepparent or adoptive parent involves a lesser kind of love than the love for a biological child.
In an interview, Ms. Walker boiled the difference down to knowing for certain that she would die for her biological child, but feeling “not sure I would do that for my nonbiological child.”
Maybe Ms Walker doesn’t realize that love is an action.
Accepting the Referral for My Daughter
How To Talk to Children About Adoption
Talking with Children About Difficult History