Fear and worry became most real to me when my journey to motherhood began. In the past, I was never one to struggle with anxiety; it’s just not something my personality was prone to. When we started our adoption process six years ago though, all of that changed. When we chose to grow our family in a way that was full of complexity, full of guarded hope, and knowing all the risks we were taking on, fear became real. And other people’s opinions didn’t help.
“Aren’t you scared that their real mom will try and come and get them back?”
“Aren’t you worried that they’ll want to go find their real mom one day and run away?”
“Oh my gosh, I could never do that, I’d be too afraid I’d get too attached and something would go wrong.”
A lot of these types of statements were clear stereotypes and mostly surrounded the fear that somehow, I wasn’t “real.” That this adoption would be final yet not permanent, and most people assumed that my biggest fears would be surrounding the “other” mom.
The truth is, I do have fears as an adoptive mom (just like all moms do), but none of them have to do with the relationship with my son’s biological mother. That relationship, if we’re ever blessed to have one, has never been something that I’ve feared. I think what you will find is that most mothers will resonate with these things, adoption just brings a different layer to it.
Here are four of my fears as an adoptive mom:
Despite my best efforts, nothing I do will be enough. Books upon books to learn about trauma, attachment, how it affects the brain and how to help children heal. Taking trauma-specific courses and changing the way I parent. Doing everything I can to learn about and incorporate birth culture, learning how to fix his hair, changing churches, choosing a neighborhood based on diversity, learning about my own white privilege and biases and learning to undo them as much as I can. Making sure I am having both the positive and the hard conversations with my son about his specific story in age-appropriate ways. Listening to all the members of the triad, especially the voices of birth parents and adoptees. Learning about my child’s specific needs and seeking help when we need it. Staying on top of the ever-evolving adoption language and ethical practices. Add in the“normal” mom things like sleep regressions and skills they should know at certain stages of development, our own faith and family values…and sometimes you just have an overwhelmed mom who is trying to juggle it all and do it all. I know I will drop a ball and not be able to do it all perfectly, but what if I drop the wrong one? So, yes, there is fear that, despite all my best efforts, it will still not be enough.
I will cause more hurt and pain. Though I don’t know what being a birth mother is like, I think this is a fear both birth moms and adoptive moms likely have in common. We already know that hurt and pain is inevitable in adoption on all sides, It’s just part of the brokenness. But my fear as an adoptive mom is that, despite my best efforts, I will say or do something (or not say/do something) that my child internalizes, that then becomes a belief, that then follows him into adulthood and causes him to struggle even more in his sense of identity and belonging. What if, in an attempt to overcorrect the narrative that adoptees have heard for too long, I focus too much on the grief and pain part? What if I tip the delicate balance of the both/and in the opposite direction and my child doesn’t see any of the beauty and only sees himself as broken? What if I say something that unintentionally sends the wrong message about his birth family or birth culture? What if I center myself way too much in this narrative and he feels I made it more about me than I did about him? As a mom, I have an irrational fear that my son will grow up and his memories of the hard days and all of my hard moments full of regret and mistakes will far outweigh the good memories full of love and magic. These extra layers that adoption brings just makes it that much heavier.
He won’t find enough safe spaces to process and heal along his journey. I tell my son often that he is allowed to feel however he needs to feel about his adoption. I tell him that, because I know that healing is a process, that grief comes in waves, that triggers can be unpredictable and different emotions will ebb and flow in different seasons. My hope is that his dad and I will always be safe places to land, that we will cultivate a space in our home where everyone is free to struggle and still be loved and accepted right where they are. I know though, that there are going to be things we simply don’t fully understand, because we’ve never experienced what he is going through. I have learned so much the importance that community and safe spaces can bring, the power of walking alongside like-minded people and people who truly get it. My fear is that he will struggle to find that community, and how that might affect him processing his story.
I won’t give myself the space or grace to process and grow. Guilt is a really easy thing to feel as a mother, but adoption and foster care can add that extra icing on the cake. I remember our first year home, I felt like I was undeserving to ask for help, couldn’t let on that there were hard things that came along with this and nobody seemed to want to hear or acknowledge them, so it must be something wrong with me. Sometimes I wonder is it even possible for me to handle the weight of responsibility of all of this in the right way? The more I continue to press in and uncover, I’m so tempted to look back and beat myself up at all the things I’ve said and done wrong so far. Even now, as much as I love social media, it’s created its own set of lies we believe. I fear that any slight mess up, any incorrect language used, anything I say or do is being scrutinized amongst the adoption community itself, and the internet is just waiting to screenshot something and make an example out of me, as if there is no room for growth or conversation.
Did you notice that everything I mention here are actually good, valid concerns that this community encourages us as adoptive moms to think about, explore, and apply? Fear is a natural, human emotion, but it’s not a good motivator. I think it’s important for us as moms to acknowledge, first and foremost, that the fear is there. But after that acknowledgement, we have three choices: We can sit in it, paralyzed, we can run from it and pretend it’s not chasing us, or we can, through brave vulnerability, face it and move past it. So when fear does come, meet it. Ask yourself why it’s there, where is this stemming from? It’s so necessary to think about and work through and learn all the complexities and overlapping social issues that come with adoption and foster care so you can best walk with your child through them, but don’t give your fears too much weight. In my home, a common phrase is, “We don’t make decisions based on fear.” Because we know from experience it never ends well.
I have found one of the best ways to combat fears is to bring them to light. When we allow them to weigh on us in silent struggle, they can be crippling and overwhelming. I believe that when we share with vulnerability, we truly get to see each other and compassion and truth rises. We realize, “Oh, I’m not alone!” We need more of that in this community, for we are all dealing with fears and lies, and only when brought to the light can we speak life and truth over one another. This is the beauty of the triad sitting at the table together. This is how we become better together.
Christa is a wife, mom via adoption, coffee consumer, and Mary Poppins wannabe. A born and raised Texan, she is doing all the things she said she never would, like homeschooling, going gluten and dairy-free, using essential oils like they are going out of style, and writing her first book. She and her husband are both former social workers-turned-writers and entrepreneurs. She loves sharing about the joy and pain of adoption and helping to prepare others along the way. She keeps it raw and real, and you can find her rocking the mom-bun, making more coffee, and processing through words on her blog at spoonfulofjordan.com and other real-life shenanigans over on Instagram @spoonfulofjordanblog.
