Every Fall

Today, my R said two very precious things:

ONE:
"Mom, I'm soooo proud of you!"
"Aww, that's sweet, baby, why?" I reply.
"Beedu you've been weawy good dis week!"
"Thank you princess!" I say with a smile, and we give each other a big hug.

TWO:
"I weawy lucky beedu I have a mom a dad an' a sister!"

It is in these simple moments I find such joy in being R's mom. And in the back of my mind, I'm always thinking of HER-- R's birthmom, Y-- who misses out on all these moments.

It's fall now, or nearly so.

The past 2 falls, R has been home with us.
The past 2 falls, R has had difficulty. Our social worker told us once that children who have experienced trauma often relive some of that experience around the anniversary of it's happening.

Without going into details of my daughter's private story, my R was born on Nov. 12, 2007. She was referred to us on Dec. 7, 2007. Obviously in those few short weeks of her life, she experienced the loss of her birthmother.

Knowing how attached my child is to me, I can only imagine how scared my tiny baby must have been as this was happening all around her. Honestly, I try not to think about it too much because it is hard. Very hard.

I think often times that people think I'm being silly when I say that I think this is what R is experiencing. They remember that R was just 3 months old when we brought her home, and they think that babies that young can't possibly understand or experience grief/loss/trauma.

BUT. THEY. CAN. and do.

My daughter's attachment to her family is secure; in that I have no doubt. But in the fall, she always regresses a little. This always manifests in sleep issues. Her first fall home, this meant that she would wake at 10 or 10:30pm every night and stay up until 3 or 4 or 5am. Her second fall, she would often need to come to bed with A and me and would wake frequently.

This year, it's happening again. For months and months, she's gone to sleep on her own, no problem at all. About 2 weeks ago, she started having to come downstairs multiple times before finally staying in bed for the night. This week, however, she's added to the mix by waking up many times during the night. Each time, whether before I've gone to bed or waking me from a dead sleep, she says (in a pathetic voice), "I want to be wit you, I weawy want to be wit you."

My poor child. In her own way, she knows that something is missing but is still too little to understand what. I think constantly of our decision to adopt and of Y's decision to make an adoption plan for her. I love her so, so much, my R, and I can't imagine life without her now. But I think, too, about Y. How does she cope with this loss?

Undoubtedly, R's quality of life is better here in the US with her momma and daddy. There is no question that we can provide far more for her than Y could.

But in these months, when my child tries to work through her grief and loss in a way only a small child can, I start to have doubts, too.

I want so very much to be the RIGHT choice for my child. But with all my child will face because she was adopted and seeing her go through this mourning period...

And, so, my child's insecurities become mine, and we will get through this difficult part of the year. Together.

My dear sweet precious R, I love more than you could ever know or possibly understand.