Parenting
By: Emily James
Updated: June 2, 2020
Originally Published: August 23, 2015
My son is one of the most courageous souls I’ve ever met. It may sound odd to say that about a 5-year-old, but it’s true. My partner and I brought him into our lives through adoption from China when he was just three. In a single afternoon, everything changed for him—and for me.
One morning, he woke up in a place he recognized, having spent his last night in an orphanage that was the only home he ever knew. The caregiver who had been with him since infancy likely told him about the joys of having a forever mommy as she helped him get dressed. But when you grow up surrounded by rows of cribs, the concepts of family and forever are hard to understand.
Later that day, he encountered a loud redhead who spoke in a strange tongue (that’s me). After a whirlwind of paperwork and hurried farewells, the woman from his orphanage took with her the last remnants of his familiar world—forever.
I often wonder who was more terrified: this fragile little boy or me. His skin was pale, and he was incredibly tiny. I could count every rib.
For eight months, I had looked at his pictures—almost the length of a full-term pregnancy—imagining the moment I would become his mother. I had convinced myself that I already loved him. However, we later found out that he had likely been bundled up in those photos. He was underweight and malnourished, grappling with serious medical issues we hadn’t been informed about. We were completely unprepared.
In that instant, I realized that my feelings didn’t align with what I had expected.
Shockingly, I did not feel love for this child. Instead, I felt panic, discomfort, and then guilt for feeling that way. He was unwell and emitted an unpleasant odor. Yet he was now my son—forever.
I vividly remember sitting on the bathroom floor of our hotel in China, thinking, “I can’t do this … I can’t be his mom.” I can still picture myself on that cold tile, resting my cheek against the bathtub, sobbing behind a locked door. No one knew how frightened I truly was.
For a fleeting moment, I contemplated leaving him behind in China, even though I knew deep down that I couldn’t. We took him home. Were my actions driven by maternal instincts, pity, or the fear of judgment? I don’t delve too deeply into that question, as it’s too uncomfortable to confront.
Eventually, we found our rhythm. Our days filled with countless doctor’s appointments—specialists, nutritionists, early intervention services. His world had been shaken, but he was adapting remarkably well. He began to trust us and learned English with impressive speed. And oh, could he eat! This little guy could really pack it away.
Though I still experienced moments of panic and uncertainty, his progress inspired hope. If he could adjust, I felt that I would find my way there too.
Loving him became a conscious choice. The phrase “fake it till you make it” is not something I typically embrace, but that’s exactly what I did.
Adoption agencies prepare parents for bonding, yet the focus often doesn’t include helping parents emotionally connect with their child. It can be incredibly challenging to parent without that bond. I know; I lived it.
Looking back on our journey, I’m amazed by how far we’ve come. Today, my son is a healthy, secure child brimming with life—and mischief! He has gained weight and lost that gaunt appearance. He knows there is always enough food and understands what it means to be part of a family.
Seven months after he joined us, I passed by the den where he was watching TV. “Mommy, sit here!” he beckoned, patting the couch. I hesitated, busy with other tasks. I didn’t want to stop everything to watch some quirky show about dancing fruit salad.
Yet I sat down, allowing myself to relax for a moment, even if the Wiggles weren’t my cup of tea. Those days left me perpetually exhausted, burdened by endless appointments and my own emotional turmoil.
Then he climbed onto my lap, tugging at my hands to wrap my arms around him. “Mommy, we best friends,” he proclaimed. I drew him closer, resting my cheek on his head and inhaling the sweet scent of a little boy, smiling because I realized that this gesture of affection was genuine. I wasn’t pretending. In that moment, I thought to myself, “We’ve made it.”
This journey has not been a fairy tale or a predictable storyline. Still, I cherish the bond we share even more because of the fear that we might never reach this point.
My husband and I chose adoption, and while I may say I chose to love this child, in truth, I believe love chose me.
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Summary:
Adopting a child can come with unexpected feelings, including a lack of instant love. Emily shares her experience of adopting a boy from China, detailing her initial panic and uncertainty. Despite not feeling an immediate bond, she chose to love him and eventually formed a deep connection. Their journey wasn’t easy, but the love they developed over time transformed their lives.