I have to admit I never gave it much thought when I was younger. I personally didn’t need/want all the details until I was older. I don’t believe my mom actually told me the specifics until I asked and I think that was around Jr. High. My mom was always honest, but she waited until I was old enough to process everything. By the time I started to wonder…my bond with my mom was strong and I just wanted to know more specific details.

I won’t lie and say I don’t have any abandonment issues because I know I do. I look at this whole adoption thing as a long road I’m on. Sometimes I will be going down the road just fine and other times I hit snow and hail and all of these “issues” come up.

I sometimes feel really sad to think my mom just left me in a basket for whoever to find me. I wonder who found me and what did they think? I wonder if I cried or if people just passed me by. It’s a lot to process even now in my 30’s, but my mom was always honest and positive. She never said anything negative about my biological mother or her choices, but never made excuses either.

I have to say my mom is rather positive in general…so whenever I would have “adoption issues” she would address them and move on. Sometimes that was good and other times not so much, but overall her attitude has always been more about how blessed she was that I came to her. So she never really focused on the details of my abandonment so much. We’ve talked about it, but it has been something more I have dealt with on my own.

The question of abandonment continues to be one of the biggest things I have had to deal with in my life. The whys, the pain, the hurt, the loss and the effects are limitless.

In my case, I was born during a war. I remember knowing as far back as I can remember that there was a war and that was “why” I was now living in Canada with my adoptive family and not with my biological one. It all made logical sense, but I could not accept it in my heart. I was raised within a family and society that to the best of my knowledge at the time believe that children are the greatest gift to an adult and that war is “bad”. Of course it is much later that I can begin to piece together the complexities of such statements.

But, if I continue to accept that simple statement of how precious a life is, it can only lead to one question for me as an orphan: If I was such a wonderful gift why was it so seemingly easy to leave me near a garbage can or a market corner? This is something that goes deep into self esteem issues and has affected me in all areas of my life from my relationships – familial, friendship, romantic – right on up to my academic life and how I perform at work.

The notion of abandonment affects each of us differently, I’m sure. I’m still discovering interesting and frustrating ways it has affected me. As a child I was very angry and had some attachment issues (though I really only understand that later in life). I took great offence when I was seemingly left out of a discussion or a decision or a lunch that someone had made even though I didn’t like the lunch and was given something else. I didn’t do my best at school because I believed I wasn’t smart. I was bullied at school so as a result also bullied others. I went through many years of depression. I learned how to control my emotions to the point of having no emotion.

All of this I can recognize now as being a result of the pain and loss of a life I never knew, but it has taken years to recognize and reverse. Old habits die hard.

I am almost 34 years old and can still pinpoint its adverse affects on me.For example,  I still have to work daily on my self esteem and like when I was a child, I absolutely hate being left alone. I don’t mind being alone if I have chosen to be, but to not be given the choice can send me into a panic mode. I get frantic. Logically I know the reason, but deep inside me there is a fear I cannot control easily.

For me, it was important to understand the conditions which led to my birth and abandonment. In my case that was war and aggression and everything that involves. Whatever the situation surrounding your children’s adoption – war, political, environmental, sociological, economical, religious – these are big issues to deal with and for me as an orphan they are issues that aren’t just external but very much a personal issue. These are things that take a long time not only to process, but to understand and ultimately try to accept – accept that I am not to blame for my set of circumstances.

All that to say, I think your concern over your child’s reaction to his abandonment is justified. Of course a child can only process so much at certain ages. I think it’s wise for you to seek professional help with your son. He does deserve to know the truth – absoultely. But he needs to know what he can handle at a given time. A child psychologist or therapist can help you determine what to tell him when in terms of his mental health and his cognitive development. It’s a path you need to tread carefully – knowing when to shelter and when to reveal; knowing when to hold on and when to release. Again, I think that with the help of a therapist of some sort and by letting your son’s reactions guide you the right decisions can be made.

On the other hand, don’t wait too long to give him some understanding and some language of his own because once school begins he will need that language and fortitude to counter his classmates’ (oft ill-guided) comments and answer their (oft far-too-blunt) questions. Even if he doesn’t understand everything, he can repeat it and eventually, hopefully, accept its truths.

Adoption is trauma. I don’t fully understand it, but I’m beginning to appreciate the ways in which those (very) early experiences have shaped the way I live my life. There’s no reason to enumerate the sudden, dramatic changes adoptees experience – I will only say that even as someone abandoned and fostered under the “best” possible circumstances, I know that I was traumatized.

I’ve been aware of my adoption since I was fairly young, maybe around four years old. In fact, I brought it up myself – pointing out that I didn’t look like my siblings because “I didn’t come from Mommy’s tummy”. Little kids, they know what’s up. And so my parents, in that moment, were forced to talk to me about adoption. They did a very good job of painting a happy picture: a mother who loved me and a family who wanted me.

They always used the language that I was “given up” – so I grew up thinking of myself as separate from the kids who were “abandoned”. It came as something of a shock then, when during my senior year of high school I was forced to do a genealogy project and took my papers out of the safety deposit box. It was the first time I’d really read them, and there, in big bold caps were the words “ABANDONED” and “ORPHAN”. Yes, it took me until I was eighteen to realize that I was an orphan.

I think that in some ways, being sheltered from the idea of abandonment was harmful to me. It prevented me from growing in a lot of ways because it robbed me of my whole history. I was in my twenties before I could even begin to think about the ways in which adoption has negatively impacted me – and I’ve been in therapy since I was fifteen.

At first glance it probably doesn’t make any sense – why not shield your child from things that are potentially hurtful?

The problem is, those feelings of hurt are always going to be there. Those moments where I was just too clingy, too sensitive, too afraid were still there. And because I couldn’t trace it back to the source, I placed the flaw in myself. I internalized it. I saw my emotionality as something pathological, excessive and burdensome to others. Something to be squelched, stifled, silenced. In other aspects of my life I worked so hard to be the best, to be without fault. I had to be the perfect child: I intensely feared abandonment, but never called it that.

Now that I am conscious of these issues, I can manage them. When something triggering happens, I can (usually) stop myself from going down the path to crisis and instead think about the situation and why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling. Knowing that I was abandoned, that I was traumatized, legitimizes my emotions. It gives me permission to feel bad, but it also gives me the tools I need to feel better.

I can’t give you much advice about when and how to approach the topic. Probably not at three, but also not at eighteen. Somewhere in between. I’m glad to hear that you are open to the idea of counseling – but do your research, the right fit really matters. Someone who has experience with adoptees would be a plus, but there are plenty of other factors that count, too. I also suggest not underestimating the importance of other adoptees. I feel like a lot of growth can only come from interactions and sharing with other adoptees. Although when I was young I had very little access to other adoptees in that context, as an adult it has been something of a homecoming, and probably the first space where I could talk about my abandonment fears in a productive way.

Adoption agencies always talk about all the things your child is “gaining” in being adopted. They rarely mention what they’re losing. I think it’s important to support your child as he mourns those losses. Adoption is painful, both in the physical sense and emotionally – there needs to be space allowed for that pain.

Our first question comes to us from Margaret:

First I greatly appreciate that you have set up your blog in such a way that we aparents have the chance to ask questions. I feel it will really help my children in the long run.

I am the mother to two three year olds from China. My kids are very small now and we are just beginning to use the word “adoption” with them and to talk about their families in China, but they really have no grasp right now.

One of my biggest fears for them is how they will handle the issues surrounding their abandonments….I mean the actual physical act of having been left off in a given location, probably by a family member. My son, in particular, is a very very sensitive little boy and I’m terribly afraid of what this will do to him. The method of his abandonment was very similar to what JoLynn talked about in her bio. And then there’s the note he was left with…..no long good-byes, no I’m sorrys, no hoping to meet again. It was literally one line….telling us when he was born.

Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe he will handle it better than I think. Maybe I’m just pessimistic, but I am afraid of this doing such emotional damage to him….maybe enough to make him hurt himself.

I do believe that every child has the right to know the truth. I have no idea what age to tell him this. I don’t know if I should wait till he asks. I don’t know if I should have him in counseling ahead of time. I don’t even know if I can make the words come out of my mouth.