Too Brave

We have all faced painful loses in our lives. We all know the hurt that comes from the death of someone important to us- someone who has helped to shape us into the people we have become. We have all wished things could have been different, that they could have stayed with us a bit longer, that we had said what we needed to, that we could hold them just one more time. It is a universal experience that all humans share.

Imagine the pain you would feel if you had lost both your parents.......four times. Think of the hurt your heart would feel and the challenges that would bring. Now, add being taken from the only home you have ever known- the culture, the language, the sites, smells and sounds. Imagine all of that is suddenly gone. Finally, add being a toddler. All of this pain happened in just two short years. Your first two years of life. This is what you have known.

This is adoption.

This is a happier version of adoption.

Many adoption stories come with so many more hardships.

Our daughter is "lucky".

Actually, I hate that word. Our daughter is not lucky. She is not lucky to have us, she is not lucky to have lost so many people throughout her journey to us, she is not lucky to be loved. Her past is not the product of good fortune and aligning stars. In turn, we are not lucky to have her. We were meant to be her family. We worked hard to bring her home. Luck had nothing to do with it.

Many have/will say that she is lucky to be so young. "She won't remember", "You will be the only family she knows". But that's not true.

She will remember. She will always remember.

Maybe not true memories with her birth mother, or cuddles with her first foster family, or her first steps with her second foster family, or playing with her foster sister while with her third foster family. She may not actually remember these things, but she will always remember that they are absent. That there are so many parts of who she is that won't ever be the same.

Adoption trauma is one of the worst, in my opinion. Mainly because it is the only form of trauma not really recognized as such. So many people see her as being "saved". We did not save her. She had a beautiful life in Korea with her foster family. We took her away from everything that she knew. At this point, her experiences are more in line with being held captive- the opposite of being saved.

Our little girl has been through so so so many hard things in her precious life. She has recovered from things that adults can not cope with.

Yesterday, I watched my brave little girl fill ten-ish vials of blood without a squirm or a sound. Part of me was so proud of my beautiful girl- how strong and brave she is. Then it hit me- no two year old should feel the need to be that strong and brave. Not that I was hoping for screaming and flailing, but she showed no fear or concern of strangers poking and prodding her. None.

Although supporting our little girl has always been a given, we now see a very specific area of focus. We will prove to her that we are not leaving, and neither is she. She doesn't need to be so brave with us. We are safe, her feelings are safe, her memories are safe, and her past is important to us too.

This special little girl shows so much strength and love in her smile, in her hugs, in her giggles and in her tiny hand as she reaches for mine. Even after all that she has been through, she still has such a strong sense of self. She is confident, smart, kind, goofy, organized, and has no problem making her plan known (especially if it is disrupted).

We will ensure that these qualities won't get lost in her grief. We will preserve the truest version of our daughter. We will do all these things by checking our needs at the door- at least when she needs us to. We will be open and honest with her about what we know of her story. We will address the struggles that her trauma will uncover in the best way we know how. We will seek support for everything, because we know that she (and we) are not alone.