Nous avions une apparence et une odeur différentes, et parlions très peu mandarin. Nous l’avons sortie de l’orphelinat peu après avoir fait sa connaissance pour l’emmener à un hôtel où rien n’était pareil. Je n’ose imaginer à quel point cette situation a dû être épeurante pour elle

We hurt from knowing the trauma our children have experienced and not being able to just kiss it better.

We did everything we could to prepare him for being a big brother. Yet one day, on a car ride to the grocery store, he asked, “When we get a new baby, who will I go to live with?

As I moved towards the bags to pick them up and bring them to the car, I saw it—the flash of terror in his eyes will be etched in my memory forever.

Nous avons testé nos nouveaux parents pour voir s’ils nous aimaient vraiment, pour voir qu’est-ce qu’il faudrait faire pour qu’ils nous renvoient comme les autres l’avaient fait.

We boarded a shuttle to the airport in Seoul, and it was as if our son understood what was happening: He was leaving his homeland with two strangers and would likely not return for a very long time. He became inconsolable.

My daughter was five and a half years old when she was placed with me. This was her fifth home. Her entire life had been marked by loss and instability.

We looked different; we smelled different; we spoke very little Mandarin. And we took our daughter away from the orphanage to a hotel where everything was different, very soon after we all met. I can’t imagine how scary it was for her.

He could not remember how many homes he had lived in. He could not remember the names of all his past caregivers. He had never finished a full academic year in one school.

We tested our new parents to see if they really loved us, to see what it would take for them to send us away, like the others had.

In the first months of our adoption, it felt like the exhaustion was setting into my very soul.

A new year always brings a little spark of ‘what if’ and this year is no different. As I continue to grieve the past, I can’t help but become excited for what this new year may bring

Intertwined personal and political factors led to my decision to adopt: I was turning 40, single, wanting children, and afraid it might be too late. I was also keenly aware of the environmental impact of adding another child to an overcrowded planet—that didn’t stop the wanting, it just added a layer of guilt and doubt.

No matter where you are in your journey, please know that all of us are here to support you. It’s ok to need more, it’s ok to ask for help, and it’s definitely ok to put yourself first during the holiday season.

My husband and I first heard the word “infertility” a year into our marriage. Immediately, we saw our picture perfect dream of becoming parents shatter into a million tiny shards of glass in front of our eyes. We grieved, we held on to each other as floating devices while we both sunk to the darkest parts of our despair.

Reaching out and receiving the readily given support that this organization provides was a game changer for us. We now know how to move confidently forward on our journey and know that in the future we have access to a second opinion, better understanding, another outside resource or just an objective listener through Adopt4Life.

Finding community to support you through this challenging stage can be really helpful.  If your personal circle has trouble understanding the emotions and support that you need during this time, reach out to Adopt4Life.

Developmental Trauma (DT) can lead to profound brain and body changes that put people at risk over time. The brain and body change in order to adapt to the stress that a person is living and experiencing. At the time, it is the brain and body’s way of responding and surviving—through adaptations—the adverse stressful experiences.

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.

Let’s dance. That is what we do, my son and I. We dance. We dance around so many things in our lives. It is a dance learned from the extreme trauma and loss my son experienced in his early life. It is a dance I learned instinctively in what I now know to be therapeutic parenting. It is a dance for our survival, individually and together.