Do you sometimes look at your children and get overwhelmed by their vulnerability? I’m guessing all parents not only adopters would answer yes to that question.
I watch my 7 yr old and the general turmoil which is her usual state of being. I see her tip from calm to calamity in seconds with alarming regularity. In public places I see her make a beeline for unfamiliar older children and adults following them round and trying to ingratiate herself. At home her every action screams notice me, give me more and more of your undivided attention but she is unable to accept that loving attention when it is proffered by me. Yet when we’re out and about she demands and welcomes attention from total strangers.
Generally the calm and rationale part of me says:
I should concentrate on the here and now,
I should try not to think too far ahead.
I can’t be sure what the future may hold.
There’s no point worrying about things that may never happen.
But she is my little girl. She may not want to be but she is. She is difficult and challenging, often wishing she was not my daughter. But she is indeed my daughter – unconfident, frightened and incredibly vulnerable. I want to gather her in my arms and protect her from those who might harm her as she grows up. I want to lock the doors and keep her away from the world.
Every now and again, in weeks like this one, questions jostle into position in my head, crowding out my more reasoned thoughts:
How do I continue to show my love for this child who believes she is unloved and unlovable?
How do I meet the needs of a child so resistant to me?
How do I keep a child safe whose very pores scream out her vulnerability?
How will I protect her from herself and from others as she gets older?
There are no definitive answers to those questions.
I will wait patiently for the fear to pass