This past weekend I fulfilled a promise that I had made to my oldest daughter on the first day 18 years ago that I saw her olive skin and almond eyes in the far away land of Korea. We were traveling west to move her in for her first year of college 1600 miles away. Just like that first trip, my nerves were on edge for the entire time – anxious about having her so far away and excited for her sense of adventure and for the incredible experiences that she would have. Remembering the first time that we held her, I was reminded of that long ago promise – to raise her for 18 years, pay for her college and then she would move out of our life. Memories have a way of showing up at the most inopportune times. What a difference those 18 years have made.
Bonding to an infant or child is different for everyone. Sometimes it is instant and other times it takes days and months of care giving. When my biological children were born, I never thought too deeply about bonding. Nursing was a time when I allowed myself to slow down and focus on my love for their tiny bodies and connect thru their eyes. Bonding with an adopted child is a bit different – not bad, but different. They have already had time to be fed by someone else, to form a personality separate from their adoptive parent. Some adoptive parents bond instantly. That was not me.
I realized when I first saw my daughter that we may have completed this adoption for the wrong reasons. Was wanting a daughter to complete our family of 3 boys an adequate reason to take a child out of her homeland of Korea and raise her in a predominately white culture? Was I qualified to parent an Asian child? Was I doing a dis-service to my three boys by creating a family that would forever be viewed as different? And amidst all of those thoughts swirling in my head, I made the promise out of fear. Fear of the future. Fear of walking out of the room and telling everyone this had been a mistake and I was not up for the challenge. I thought I could fake the “bonding” for 18 years and then go back to my normal life. As we all know, life doesn’t work like that.
The process of caring for someone unrelated to you but who is wholly dependent on you for food and shelter eventually creates a bond just as strong as birth. I was able to fake being a loving parent for a few days and gradually the fear went away and was replaced by a steadily growing love. It may have taken a bit longer than a biological child but the eventual bond was no different. Now I have the same hopes, dreams and worries for my adopted children that I do for my biological children.
Within a day of leaving my daughter at college, she had her first stab of homesickness and questioning whether she had made the right choice by moving so far from home. I reminded her of my promise 18 years previous and how our lives would have been so different if I had decided to walk away from the unknowns. Now it was her turn to “fake it” for a few days or weeks or months until she grew to like this new phase of her life.