A few weeks ago, I had a short visit with Dominic and his parents while I was in town for another engagement. I stopped in on my way home, knowing the visit would last only a couple of hours. I was so thankful for the opportunity to see him, even for a little while, instead of having to fly by the exit on the freeway.
Pulling into the driveway, I saw Robby waiting for me, with Dominic on his shoulders. I got out of the car.
“Hi,” I said cheerfully to Robby, then escalated the excitement in my voice. “Hi, Dominic!”
As I approached, Dominic furrowed his brow. The boy was only 9 months old, but he has always been an expressive baby. I could tell by his parted lips, gathered eyebrows and following eyes that he did not recognize me, nor did he know why this stranger was at his house, giving him a hug and kiss.
Robby placed him in my arms, but I barely kissed Dominic’s forehead before he wriggled out.
Who is this lady and why does she think she can kiss me, I imagined him thinking.
Once inside, Marie and I sat on the floor with Dominic to play. Since my last visit a few weeks before, Dominic started taking his first steps. I hadn’t yet witnessed his precocious development, so Marie stood him a few feet from her and called him over.
When he successfully walked to her lap and collapsed in a proud heap, I cried. Just a little.
Marie is always very sensitive to giving me one-on-one time with Dominic. When I am there, she lets me care for him as much as I want: feed him, change his diaper, put him down for a nap, give him a bath, take him for a walk — anything. Usually Dominic goes along with the shift in caregiver. But not this visit.
He acknowledged my presence while the three of us played on the floor, even giving my knee a hug. (He puts his head down and utters a high-pitched sigh with a little smile; he is very affectionate in this way, especially to the dog.) But he was not very interested in me. He constantly turned away from me, showing his toy to his mother, sitting with her, playing peek-a-boo around the coffee table.
When I tried to feed him dinner, he whined and cried. His dad finally spooned the food into his mouth with ease and efficiency.
I asked them to take a picture before I left; I thought the captured moment would show him crying with his arms out for his parents, while I’m smiling and holding a captive. But his parents got him to smile, so the picture belies the overall tone of the visit.
Obviously, Dominic has developed a preference for his parents.
After I related this story to a friend who is a mother of two, she assured me of its normalcy.
“It’s just a phase,” she said.
Research indicates that babies bond with their parents through scent. In her book that offers an extensive examination of infant and fetal brain development, “What’s Going on in There?”, Dr. Lise Eliot explains that a baby’s sense of smell at birth is the second most developed sense, after touch. She said babies have been shown to prefer their mother’s scent over a stranger’s scent. These scents are imprinted on the baby during feeding, so breast-fed babies learn to prefer their mother’s scent sooner than bottle-fed babies, but both eventually learn which smelly person gives them food. Logically, this scent impression leads to better bonding between mother and baby. [pg 166-171]
I think perhaps this first impression is one reason why separation may be difficult on adopted newborns. In a Huffington Post article, Marriage and Family Therapist Lesli Johnson — who was adopted as an infant — listed “10 things adoptees want you to know.” Number 8: Adoption is hard.
When an infant or child is separated from his or her birthmother, it is undeniably a traumatic event. All of the once-familiar sights, sounds and sensations are gone, and the infant is placed in a dangerous situation — dangerous that is, perceived by the infant….The parasympathetic ability to self-soothe isn’t available and baby needs his or her familiar mom to act as the soothing agent to help with self-regulation but she’s not there. Events that happen age 0-3 are encoded as implicit memories and become embodied because they place before language develops. Adoptive parents can be sensitive to this and later help put explicit language to the felt experience of their child.”
After first reading the article, I assumed this tidbit meant Dominic would always recognize me as his first mother. Moments after he was born, the nurses placed him on my skin. I rubbed him and breast-fed him. Neil and I took turns holding him for the first four hours of his life.
Then I handed him to Marie, so she and Robby could care for him in the hospital. My scent had only four hours to imprint on Dominic before other scents started feeding him, so why would I think he should recognize me as his first mother forever?
Moreover, I specifically arranged his hospital caregiving so that he would start to bond with his adoptive parents as soon as possible. (No, it was not possible for me to hand him over before four hours had passed, because I did not have it in me.) I knew the research showed that babies would bond with their feeder, so I wanted that feeder to be Marie in more of his early instances than with me. I wanted to minimize the jolt of separation as much as I could, for his sake.
But this does not erase the part of me that wishes I was his preference. I think I suffer the brunt of separation from Dominic, but better me than him. His behavior at my visit clearly indicated he has no idea who I am. However, I’ve visited him twice since then, and while his preference was still clear, it was less pronounced.
Sometimes I like to take mental credit for my “plan” working. I think by now he would have learned to bond with his parents and prefer them over anybody else, regardless of who cared primarily for him in the hospital. But in my mind, it helps ease the hurt I feel when he reaches for his mother when I take credit for the success of my choice.
Do you agree with the quote by Lesli Johnson, that adopted children are traumatized by a separation from their birthmother? Birthmothers, how do you feel when/if your child shows a preference for his adoptive mother over yourself? Share your thoughts in the comment box below.
Yes I agree with that quote… Oh I wish “Birthmother’s” or first moms would talk to adult adoptee before placement. I have spoken to so many first moms who have told me that if they only knew the REAL effects (they can be apparent or hidden covertly under the surface of an adoptee, remember we must please, and will do anything to be accepted by our new tribe) these mothers would NOT have placed. They would have found a way to love their baby. Who can knowingly inflict trauma on a newborn? Trauma that lasts a lifetime.
My first tweet when I signed was are there any adoptee’s that deal with chronic illness. The response was huge. (And I thought I had it bad) Next to debilitating real physical illness, there is a severely complex psychological component. So Real and Immanent is this threat, 1/4 suicides are adoptee’s. We take up 1/4 the permanent stay patients in long term mental facility’s.
Do you remember your first crush, or puppy love? The fantasy, hours spent daydreaming about a future together, what you will be doing etc… And along with the fantasy is a physiogical gut churning feeling (and you don’t know if it’s good or bad, but the feeling itself is all encompassing) That’s how adoptee’s feel most of their life. There is a pining for our mothers. We never connect with our adoptive mothers, it would be blasphemous.
I know you are knew to this. I encourage you to keep writing and exploring this topic. Self love is important, and I’m very envious of people who have a healthy dose. Adoptee’s ability to self love is closely entwined with whether we meet someone else’s approval.
As an adoptee I cried reading this article. I just kept thinking… If you only knew, at 9 months he does, he hasn’t let the other voices crowd out the bond. It hurts him so, because you leave and come back, and you keep leaving. It’s terrifying. Yes I’m saying the infant has terror memory. And is terrified this cycle of his first and only love, his life giver, will continue to leave.
Many Regards on your Journey,
I’d like to follow your writing.
My Name is Megan
You shared with me, I thought I’d share some with you.
Megan, thank you so much for your comment and for sharing some of your story. I certainly wonder every day how my son’s life as an adoptee will affect him. I’m sorry for how much you have struggled as an adoptee, and I hope you will work toward extending compassion and self-love to yourself, regardless of anyone else’s opinion. Self-love does not come naturally to me, but like many skills, it comes with practice and time. Thanks for encouraging me to keep writing, and thanks for being a reader. 🙂
Emily, I designed and conducted a workshop recently that included a segment on self-compassion. Here’s a great resource that I found and used: http://www.self-compassion.org
Thanks and best to you and to Megan. xoA
I just would like to add… I am a spiritual life coach, work as a childbirth educator, birth and post partum doula, a fertility coach, and teach parenting classes at a local high school. The curriculum I’ve developed will now be brought to three new inner city schools.
My experience in the birth world and evidenced based care plus access to directly work with woman and infants immediately after birth along with my experience as an adoptee has led me to a deep knowing regarding the devastating effects separating mother and child.
My experience as an adoptee is not unique. The pain and anguish adoptee’s feel is universal as is evidenced in many books and again, scientific and peer reviewed research. One of the most notable books is “Primal Wound” written by Nancy Verrier. I am not short on self love, and compassion. It is a practice that must be cultivated. The reason I share my story is the reason many adult adoptee’s do at this current time in our culture. Because we can, and it is finally being heard. BSE babies were silenced and expected to be “blank slate babies”. Until just a decade ago, talking about our adoption experiences was considered taboo. I appreciate you not censoring my comment. I hope that true to the mission of your blog, prospective birth mothers can come here and find information, and if they do choose to place, a place of love. Without hearing all the voices and hearing all of their options, the mission of the blog may become obsolete. Wouldn’t it be something if woman could visit this blog in particular and make informed choices, while being embraced no matter what they choose, free of agenda. Now that would be revolutionary. I will always struggle with the wounds and scars left with my adoption. I may live with a broken heart. But unlike many adoptee’s. I’ve escaped being institutionalize mad and I am still living.