As I fell asleep last night, I wondered again what it would be like to be adopted. What would I be thinking, feeling, wondering if I were them? I’ve been through this twice now, with three different children, and they were each unique in their response to being adopted.
I remember Kelly, the first of our children whom we met. She came into the office with a red bon bon bum in her mouth, a giggle bubbling just below the surface, and an expectant smile on her face. Her eyes were alight as I said, “Hola Kelly. Soy tu mama.” She gave me a big hug and sat on my lap to show me the pictures her foster mom carefully displayed in a scrapbook for all of us.
I remember Monica, whom we met a few minutes later. At first, we only heard her cries from the hallway. Then, she very shyly stood in the doorway, her chin pointed down and her big eyes carefully peeking at us. She was very clearly scared and did not want to be present at that moment. She did not want this to happen to her, whatever it was. I got down on my knees and said hello. I told her I loved her and that I was her mommy. She started crying again and the social worker took back into the hallway.
I remember Diego, just days ago, stepping out of the car, waiting patiently for las doctoras to tell him where to go, what to do. He walked up the steps, not quite sure of himself but going through the motions he had been so well prepared for. Give mama a rose. Give papa a sucker. Give us each a big hug. Then wait for the next instruction. He was not shy, not energetic, just content.
What is it like to be adopted? Adults who have popped in and out of your life in brief moments to check on you, now tell you to go live with two strangers and call them mama and papa. Go live in a hotel with them. Walk around each day looking for a new place to eat lunch. Wear the clothes they brought for you, which are not like the ones from your foster family. Let them help you dress, shower, brush your teeth, hold their hand, sit on their lap, and hear them say they love you. These strangers who you do not know. Do not trust. Do not understand.
Monica and Kelly are amazing. They have both been able to harness their feelings and experiences and start a new life, with a new family, in a new country. They are strong. They are happy. They love us and miss us and care about us. We are a family with them and it feels so right now, three years later. And though I’ve only know Diego for a week, I feel confident that he will fit right into the picture, as he was meant to be. He will rise to the occasion and take his cues from the rest of us, and learn to love us as we will learn to love him.
The process of legally becoming a bigger family begins today. Our Integracion went well. La Doctora was pleased with us as parents, and Diego as our son. She will go back to the office and write up a report of our first week together. Then our lawyer will submit our papers to the courts. While we wait, we’ll help Diego say his new last name, just as we did with the girls, so that in a few days, he can say, “Me llamo Diego Fernando Vander Veen!”
