We’ve struggled with how much of our babies’ stories to keep private. We want to share every detail, but we stop ourselves because at some point, these babies will be children with questions (some we can answer, some we can’t) about where they come from. The thought of Drunk Uncle Rick (no, I don’t have a drunk uncle Rick) making an offhand comment that birth parents didn’t want them or that their earliest weeks were spent at such-and such place (or a place we don’t know of at all) makes me cautiously protective of what we share and what we don’t. But to help illustrate why attachment is such a concern in international adoptions, I’ll share a part of their stories here.
When Baby Girl first came into Orphanage 1, it was at least her 3rd “home.” At least the 3rd new cast of characters (orphanage staff) to now act as caregivers for her and handfuls of other babies. A new place with new smells and milk (or not much milk at all) and new faces who are sometimes there and sometimes not because 19 other babies are crying to be cuddled at the same time.
Baby Boy came into the same Orphanage 1 a few weeks later. This was at least his 2nd “home.” Within a month, Baby Boy and Baby Girl were moved from Orphanage 1 – which sits far outside the city – to Orphanage 2, inside the city. Strangers picked them up, packed them into a vehicle, and took them to another new place. With new faces. And different tasting milk (although probably more of it). And new cribs. Blankets. Walls. Everything. The occasional cuddle from a somewhat-familiar smelling orphanage worker was gone. Now they were surrounded by new orphanage staff, who did the best they could to care for still-too-many babies at once.
We’ve seen pictures of Orphanage 2, and we’ll visit when we’re there. The walls are bright and cheerful, painted in vibrant colors. The babies spend almost all of their time in brightly-painted wooden “cubbies” that serve as cribs. From other families’ reports, the staff love the babies and do the best they can with limited resources. There, the babies eat a pre-measured amount every 4 hours. If a baby is hungry sooner, they have to wait. There’s just not enough formula to give them more than the calculated rations.
About 3 months later, after they’d learned the faces and smells and voices of Orphanage 2 staff, after they’d been soothed by these workers and started to bond and gain a sense of stability in their short little lives, they were moved again. This time to the well-stocked and well-staffed Agency Orphanage 3, where they each share a “nanny” with only 1-2 other babies and get as many little milky baby bottles as they want. But even though the surroundings are better, the formula mixed properly and the rooms cleaner, they had to leave the only peices of familiarity (Orphanage 2) behind. The women who fed them, soothed them, changed them are now gone. And they’re surrounded with (yet again) all new faces and different everything.
They’ve been at Agency Orphanage 3 for at least a month now. When we get there, they will have had 2 months in this new “home.” And then two foreign woman, who look different than anyone they’ve ever seen, will scoop them up, and love them and cuddle them, but at the same time, will bring about another traumatic life change. Another new home, as we set up camp in our Bed-and-Breakfast suite. More new milk – American formula, so desperately needed by their growing brains – yet so different tasting (not nearly as sweet) as what they’re used to. New smells, new voices, new beds. A different language to be whispered in their ears as we soothe them to sleep.
So much differentness.
Almost too much differentness for one little baby to take in the first 6 months of life.
And then (because our journey is hardly over when we have them in our arms), after a month and a half of this new home, just as the surroundings start to become familiar, we will spend over 24 hours on 3 different planes and in 4 different airports. More differentness. But at least this time, the faces stay the same. Our home, the nursery we spent weeks preparing, the playroom (still “under construction”), the kitchen where we’ll whip up those delicious frothy bottles, will be Baby Girl’s 7th home, and at least Baby Boy’s 6th.
And when the set and cast and script have been pulled out from under your feet every 2-3 months for your whole little life, it’s going to take a while for you to really believe that these new mamas aren’t going anywhere.
I could write chapters on the process of infant attachment. Lots of people have. Sixty or so years of research from around the globe leads to the same conclusion: Suffice it to say that the cornerstone of healthy attachment (which is crucial to healthy childhood and adulthood) is having a responsive, warm caregiver who is consistently there to meet your needs. Thus far, our babies have had handfuls of (mostly) warm caregivers that have disappeared after a few months.
See where the problem is? Why should the new mamas be any different? (in their minds)
And so, to help their little souls understand that we are family now and we’re not going anywhere, we have to do a few things differently than parents who bring their baby home from the hospital. Here’s some explanation of how our parenting style might seem a little unique:
- Physical Contact – We plan to carry them as much as possible and use Kangaroo Care (skin-to-skin contact) for bonding. We’ll use things like jumperoos and strollers minimally for the first little while. Being carried around by the New Mamas is one of the easiest ways for our babies to learn that we are forever parents, not temporary staff.
- Hands Off Please – Because our little ones will have had so many caregivers by the time we bring them home, it’s important that they not be passed around like hot potatoes. For the first little while home, only The Mamas get to feed, change, and cuddle, because we are the faces they see everyday for forever. The rest of the fan club still gets to play with, talk to, and adore our babies, but not while holding them close. We know this will be excruciating for our closest people, but it’s just something we have to do to ensure their well-being. It won’t be forever, we promise. And the good news is that if we start the adoption right, attachment concerns will quickly be a thing of the past. The No-Holding Rule is the linchpin in it all – this is the biggest threat to attachment for babies with too many previous caregivers.
- Hyper-Vigilance to Their Needs – as much as possible, we want them to learn that when they squeak, we’re here. Too many orphanage babies have learned the painful lesson that their cries are useless, so they stop crying altogether. While that might make for a quiet house and an “easy” baby – its horribly unhealthy. We’re going to try to teach our babies to be a little bit “needy.”
- Baby our Babies – We are not concerned about developmental milestones or getting to “the next stage” with our babies. They need to be babied and (at times) treated like tiny newborns. We’ll pay little attention to things like switching to a sippy cup at age 1 or toilet training by 2 or sleeping through the night, because rushing through infancy is not our goal and can lead to regression down the road.
- Nutrition – early malnutrition means that we need to be vigilant about everything they put in their little bodies in the first 3 years. We are choosing (per doctor’s advice) to stick to wholesome, fresh-as-possible food. This doesn’t mean that our toddler’s won’t get “treats.” It just means that we’ll choose whole-fat chocolate milk over KoolAide and ice cream free of preservatives over Twinkies.
- TV and Development – The American Academy of Pediatrics strongly recommends no TV until 2. Early TV viewing is linked with increased risk of ADD and learning disabilities. Since our babies didn’t always get enough food early on to feed their developing brains, we’re not going to give them any additional “help” in developing a learning disorder. No TV until age 3 for our babies (recommended age for “at risk” infants) is our family rule. That means even having an adult program on and within view of the babies is harmful to their development. When they’re 18 months and you think it would be lots of fun to watch Lion King, we’re going to say no. Sorry. Development Nazis. We whole-heartedly welcome books, face-to-face interaction, and good old fashioned play.
Despite all the doom-and-gloom of attachment issues and early trauma and the sad reality of their many moves, babies are resilient. It’s typical for infants from orphanages to be behind the first several months and then catch up without any problems. We’re not pre-diagnosing our children with various disorders, just being cautious and doing our due diligence in giving them the best possible start to life we can. So, when you reach to hold our babies and we say no, just know that there’s a reason behind it.
Barefoot in the Dirt 