As we navigate through this mix of excitement and nostalgia, I can't help but think about a few things I wish we had known back when we were fresh to the whole post-adoption scene.

When entering this new world, this new home, you are never navigating your demons alone.

I often feel like I am a disappointment because I could not be everything she needed. But then I remember, long ago, that we promised to support Stephanie in becoming the happiest person she can be. And we have done that. By never giving up, and always doing what is best for her.

Within your daily chaos, between the appointments and advocating, don’t forget to take a moment to remember your why, to do small things, to remind each other that under the pile of clothes, dirty dishes and diapers, is your relationship. And until you get there: pop, pop, milk, salad.

Finally, in a coffee shop, I met with the woman through whom I have the greatest gift. Slowly, our nervousness lifted—or mine at least, I cannot speak for her, but I think we both warmed up a little. As we shared photos and stories our common admiration grew.

Because none of this is about giving up or breaking down. It all about finding solutions that are best for our children, supporting individual mental health needs, and setting our expectations to ensure success, not failure.

Developmental trauma impacts little ones deep within, it prevents them from growing up with curiosity, with a heart open and ready to embrace the world. The journey through adoptive parenting is complex and at time so very challenging. But when we sit still for a moment, and look at how far our children have come in order to develop trust (through their exhausting testing), we are reminded that, healing is possible.

Today my son’s fish died, and for the first time in 5 years, after spending time in attachment therapy, learning therapeutic parenting, taking courses and hours of research, my son was able to identify his real emotions. Thanks to Mr. Fish for giving my son the opportunity to learn from this.