A family takes an adaptive approach to the unexpected events of their adoption

by Colleen Thompson

My husband and I adopted our younger daughter, Celia, in 2006 through what is now known as the China Child of Promise program. Like many families, we started out in the standard program, and then switched tracks shortly after, as we learned more about this wonderful program.

Through our adoption experience, we learned some helpful lessons along the way.

Lesson 1: Embrace the information you receive, but don’t expect it to be complete.

Celia had a congenital limb abnormality of her left foot. After accepting the referral, Holt’s China staff got us updated photos of Celia – including close-ups of her foot – which we shared with our pediatrician. We knew Celia was not yet standing on her own, but our doctor’s initial assessment reassured us that Celia’s limb difference need not have a significant impact on her physical development.

What we didn’t know was that, during the three months we waited to travel, Celia was developing another medical condition that would prove much more challenging.

Lesson 2: Set realistic expectations for your own emotional well-being.

Being a “glass-half-full” sort, I was naturally drawn to all the heartwarming, feel-good stories of adoptive families. Without realizing it, I had created a fantasy in my own mind of how our story would play out.

By the time of our referral, Steve and I felt well prepared to accept Celia into our family. We completed the “Parents in Process”, read all the recommended books on attachment and bonding in adoption, and did our best to prepare our daughter, Sawyer, to become a jiejie.

Celia bonded with us quickly. We were, however, utterly unprepared for the upheaval of our life back home as our older daughter adjusted to a new sibling. For three months, we were challenged by physical violence, extreme tantrums, and regression in development – not by Celia, but by Sawyer.

There were days when I second-guessed our decision to adopt, and even more days when I doubted my qualifications to parent. Sawyer and Celia are practically inseparable today, I just wish I’d had more realistic expectations of what that transitional summer would entail and been better prepared emotionally to help Sawyer work through her transition.

Lesson 3. Let go of your preconceptions and accept that life is full of surprises.

At our orientation in Beijing the day before we met Celia, we received new photos and information on her. I cried tears of joy to see her running in one photo – evidence that her limb difference would not affect her mobility, and I was not particularly concerned to hear that she was battling a rash on her scalp.

When we met Celia the next day in Taiyuan, we were alarmed to find that the “rash” had developed into a large bald area covered with sores. With a visit to a Western doctor in Guangzhou days later, we began a medical odyssey that we had never contemplated for this child.

Over the next two years Celia was evaluated by a series of medical specialists, none of whom were able to provide a diagnosis or a cure. Last fall Celia underwent two surgeries to remove the unhealthy scalp tissue.

Our lesson learned, of course, was that knowledge and understanding of one existing medical condition doesn’t preclude the existence of others. As with biological offspring, we never know if or when medical, developmental, or emotional issues might arise. We were so prepared for Celia’s limb difference and potential bonding issues that we honestly never considered the possibility of another medical issue.

According to my favorite Chinese proverb, “A diamond with a flaw is worth more than a pebble without imperfections.”

For us, Celia is that diamond. Her resilience, affection, and good nature shine brightly for everyone around her. We have grown immeasurably through this experience, and we know the flexible, adaptive approach we learned along the way will serve us well as we raise our daughters.