Will I Love my Adopted Child as Deeply as my Own?

People often wonder if adoptive moms really feel that bond with children who did not grow in their womb. There is that undeniably special joy and bond that is formed as a little one is growing inside their mother. After birth, there’s an elation of guessing who the little one looks like – Mama’s eyes, Daddy’s ears, Grandma’s smile, Grandpa’s monobrow. But how do adoptive parents handle this apparent missing piece of the very important growing up puzzle? Can they truly bond with children who have the potential to look and act so vastly different from them?

How Did You Know You Wanted Me?

One day when Remy was 6 years old, he asked a question that made me stop in my tracks. 

“Mommy, how did you know that you wanted me to live here?”

He was referring to his adoption two years prior but I wasn’t prepared for the sudden inquiry.  

We are parents who have adopted four boys from foster care and I was absolutely certain that the first time I saw “the one,” I would feel it. I expected some kind of electricity, a sureness that I was looking at the child who was meant for me. The one that was born to another woman but that grew in my heart. One that I had longed for and was finally laying eyes on for the first time. For me, it didn’t happen. And it shocked and saddened me and made me feel like maybe adoption wasn’t meant for me.

Adoption Match-Up Party

We first met Remy at an adoption match-up party. This was for kids in foster care who were looking for an adoptive family. They were already orphans with parental rights terminated, hoping to find their forever family. They were brought together at a fun event where prospective families could meet them. While we were checking them out, they were also checking us out! As I sat and painted a young girl’s fingernails, she grilled me very unexpectedly.

“Do you have animals? What kind of things do you make for dinner? Do you like girls with black skin?”

It was an uncomfortable moment. They knew why we were there. And they determined to pick their own family, not wait until someone chose them.

Off in the corner we saw a little boy in a blue shirt. Red shirts mean the kids are spoken for or are biological kids of prospective families. Other colors mean the child may be available for adoption. Mr. blue shirt had just recently been released from medical hold and they brought him just in case a family might be interested. We asked to spend time with him and so did others. As we watched a particular family interact with Remy, we walked away knowing he had found his forever home….with that family, not with us.

Fostering is Full of Surprises

Fast forward almost three months and suddenly Remy’s caseworker reached out to us, saying she’d been waiting to hear from us. 

“What? That other family didn’t adopt him?” I asked.

“No,” she said, “I was waiting on you. I knew you were the family for this little boy.” 

But I didn’t. There had been no bolt of lightning, no surety in my heart that I had found the child meant for our family. Does that make me sad? A little. But more than anything, it embarrasses me. I expected this thing called adoption to be a beautiful fairy tale of sorts where mommy, daddy and little child destined to be together finally find each other, embrace and walk off into the distance as happy as can be.

My goodness. Too much Disney, anyone?

A Fierce and Protective Love

Yet here we are, many years and four adoptions later, including Remy who was officially brought into our family nine months after that first encounter. I sit in my children’s room, quiet my heart and just listen. My rough and tumble boys make my heart skip with love for them. There’s a warmth that rushes through the marrow of my bones and a fierce protectiveness that gurgles up for these boys, my sons. Where does it come from? How is it possible to love so deeply someone who was not borne of my body?

As I sit with my eyes closed and a little catch in my throat, I can’t help but smile. Goodness but how I would go to the ends of the earth for these little ones entrusted to me. I have been chosen as their protector. I do not think for one single heartbeat that I’ve missed out on any special bond between us. Just as a mother who gives birth to her babies is filled with an inexplicable love, deep devotion, fierce determination to protect. Who has a soft, soft spot for their little ones. I find myself in that same place.

The Miracle of Adoption

The miracle of adoption, for me, is that the moment my boys stepped over the threshold into our home, each and every one of them already belonged. They grafted into our family unit as if all of their experiences that were a mystery to us had happened so they could be a perfect fit into our family. Our boys love to travel and would sit like champs in their car seats for long rides to our next adventure. Not a peep. How is it possible that all four boys love to travel as much as we do?

One of their biggest joys is being in the garage with Daddy, getting dirty on his latest motorcycle or go-kart repair project and learning everything they can about cars. They come running to the kitchen when I put out the call, “Who’s going to be my chef-in-training tonight?” And they love making yummies for their tummies while I wear my chef’s jacket and teach them how to check if muffins are cooked through. Things we cherish are things they love, as if they’d been here growing and learning from us since the beginning. A friend came to visit a week after our last group of siblings were placed with us and commented that it’s as if they had always been here, they just gelled and fit and were part of the family from the start.

The Adoption Bond is Real

So for anyone wondering about the adoption bond, here’s the reality: don’t even try to come between me and my cubs. They are my children, as real and true and mine as if they’d grown in my womb. We love them fiercely, dream for them extravagantly, and not for one moment think of them as anything less than our own perfectly darling sons in this perfectly blended family.

What about you? Is there a little voice whispering that this might be for you? This big thing called adoption from foster care that seems to deep and difficult? I have walked the road and I offer this encouragement. There is nothing more beautiful than a child joining your home, grafting into your family, and firmly lodging themself into the crevices of your heart. Do it. Take the step. And join the conversation on my website through the subscription option at www.LoisJRodriguez.com.

Until next week, my Savoring friend!

*portions of this article were previously published in Fostering Families Today.