When I first met Dave and Janet, she was pregnant with their second child. He’s about 10 now, a slightly small in stature, captivating young man named Cole. He was born with a congenital heart condition, and the joyous celebration of his arrival soon gave way to much distress and fear. He was airlifted by helicopter to a hospital several hours away where his particularly unique needs could be addressed. Janet followed by ambulance—groggy, overwhelmed and afraid for her son.

After several surgeries, Cole is doing just fine. He still faces medical interventions, but he has incorporated his rougher-than-normal beginnings into who he is. His older brother and parents have made appropriate adjustments in their lives to include time, energy (both physical and emotional) and resources for Cole’s medical needs.

No one would think less of Cole if he occasionally, or often, resisted yet another visit to the doctor for more blood work, or more surgery. No one would think he was a “defective” child or somehow had something to do with being born with a heart condition. It just happened. No one would criticize Janet for being less-than-enthusiastic about having to repeatedly subject her infant son to pokes, prods and needle sticks. However, if Janet avoided seeking appropriate medical care for her son because she could not stand seeing him in pain—OR because she didn't want to admit he had a heart condition--that could have disastrous consequences! Janet couldn't ignore the elephant in the living room, even if she wanted to (and who wouldn't want to?)

Why is it such a stigma to admit our adopted children have started off life with a little glitch? Maybe (hopefully) they will bounce right up and keep on truckin’. But to pretend their prenatal experience and birth experience was completely “normal” is so unfair to our children! They have all had profound losses—they lost the woman whose womb supported them for nine months. They lost a biological connection that most of us take completely for granted. If birthmom was respectful to her developing child when she was pregnant, that child grieves the loss of a woman who clearly cared for them. If birthmom abused drugs and/or ignored her pregnancy, that developing child received a very powerful message about their lack of value. If birthmom cried for nine months because she knew she couldn’t keep this child, that emerging psyche absorbed that profound sense of loss and grief. How can we assume we, as adoptive parents, acquire a “blank slate” even if we take this baby home directly from the hospital? Never mind if more trauma occurs daily for however long it takes us to make this child our own!