Today I am going to take a break from the Transracial Adoption ABCs (looking at my list of topics, I am nearing the end of that finally, but I am still looking for something for the letter "Z", if anyone has any bright ideas!) and I am going to write about attachment and adjustment in adopted children.

Belane has now been home for almost eight months. From the moment we were united, she has done extremely well. I don't know if it is because the nannies at her orphanage did an exceptional job of preparing her for our arrival, or if it is because she so desperately wanted a mom again or if somehow she remembered me and the love I had for her the first time we met, but this little girl who is very shy with strangers, has accepted me as her mom from the very beginning. From our first hour together, she wanted me and only me to hold her and care for her (although it did not take her long to realize that Dad was pretty awesome too).

For some people, just getting to the point where the child accepts that you are their parent can be quite a process.

With Belane, the challenge has been getting her to trust that I am not going to leave her, I am not going to disappear and I am not going away. That is something that only time, consistency and love can convince her.

In the very early days, I could not even go to the bathroom or take a shower with the door closed, because Belane would get so nervous that she couldn't see me that she would just shut down and cry. This got better even during the two weeks we spent in Ethiopia. During the first few days she would stand vigilantly next to the shower, ensuring with her tiny little body that no one came in, and that I did not sneak out. After a few days, she started running out of the bathroom for a few moments to get a toy or sneak a peak at the television. Gradually things switched to the point that she was spending most of the time out of the room playing and would come back in a few times to check on me, and then one glorious day, I took an entire shower without her coming in at all.

Things were similar when we got home. In the first few days here, she would literally panic if she looked up and could not see me. She always kept me in her line of sight. I would tell her when I had to go in the kitchen or in my bedroom or wherever, and she would just follow me. Then one day I told her that I had to go into the laundry room for a minute, and she said, "OK" and continued on playing with the toy she had. Progress!

Progress continued on in that way over a month or two, until we got to the point that as long as I was in the house somewhere, she was fine. She could happily play downstairs if I was upstairs. She did not worry when I took a shower. She was even ok when I went out into the yard to walk the dog.

And yet eight months after being placed in my arms, she still struggles with fear that I am going to disappear. The second she is awake from a nap or in the morning, she calls out my name. If for some reason I don't hear her the first time or I take longer than the 30 seconds or so it usually takes me to go down to her room, she gets nervous and cries.

On Sunday I had to teach a lesson at Sunday school. I had put Marcus and Belane down for a nap at home after our first hour of church, left Josh here with them and then went back up to church to teach my lesson, assuming I would make it back before she woke up.

She took a shorter-than-usual nap, and although she loves Josh and doesn't mind when he goes down to get her after a nap, as soon as she realized that I wasn't home she started to cry. When I got back (about 10 minutes later) she told me over and over, "I couldn't find you." "You didn't come get me."

I used the experience to show her, "See? Mommy was gone just for a minute and came right back, right?" She said, "right", but gave me the look that said, "but don't do it again." The next day when it was time for a nap, I put her down as usual and came upstairs. Five minutes later I heard her crying. When I went down to check on her she asked in a panic, "Mommy go bye-byes?"

The other day our son needed a ride up to the school. The school is right up the road and you can see it from our house. Normally the kids just walk, but the weather was nasty, so I offered to drive him up the road. Belane was playing with the four other girls, so I told them all I was going to take Nathan to the school and I would be right back (we are literally talking about two minutes TOPS). Belane said "ok", but then proceeded to fall apart and cry. I took her with us.

Knowing that she has already lost a mom that she loves and has experienced several moves and changes in caregiver in a short period of time, it is not hard to understand why she gets so nervous. Most kids do not have a reason to worry that their parents could up and disappear, but in Belane's reality, mommies do go away and don't always come back.

She is a mommy's girl. She loves having a mom. She rubs my face and strokes my hair and is happy to just be near me. She really, really, really does not want to go back to not having a mommy.

In the big picture, she is doing awesome. She embraced us right away. She is sweet, loving and very affectionate with us. She adores her siblings. She knows, trusts and loves many of our extended family members. She is super smart and does not miss a thing. Her health is great. She sleeps well and eats well.

Her fear of strangers and her nervousness when we go out have faded almost completely. In fact, last night we went to a big barbecue at our church, and although she clung to my leg and wouldn't talk to anyone for about half an hour, shortly after that she was off and running with the kids, and even let someone else hold her.

She has a very healthy relationship with Josh. She adores him, and handles it just fine when he comes and goes for work. She does not have any challenging orphanage behaviors, and is in fact, a really "easy" three year old and a joy to parent.

And yet I long for the day when she can truly relax, and trust that I will never leave her. I know that she "knows" it in her head now. She can tell you that mommy is always going to be there for her. But in her heart, she cannot trust that yet. Part of her still feels that she needs to keep me really close by to make sure that I don't disappear.

When I look at her today, I can see how much less anxious she is, even compared to a month ago. She is constantly improving and relaxing, bit by bit. I know that only love, experience and time will show her that she is safe and that she is not going to lose another mommy.

This sort of "anxious attachment" in newly adopted children is very common. In my next post, I will share some tips on how to help build healthy attachment with your child.

More reading on attachment:

Worries about attachment in adoption

Attachment Risks

Attachment Tips and Resources