A Lapse in Judgment

Remember the entry back in March about leaving Sarah in the church nursery and how uneventful it was?  Well, that was then, this is now.  I brought Sarah to the nursery again this morning.  She was reserved at first but then jumped right in and started playing at the train table.  The mom-on-duty coaxed her over to the play kitchen, and Sarah happily started cooking with her.  Of course, this was as I stood about two feet away.

They played for a few minutes, then the mom said, "I think it works best if you leave right away."  I hesitated, but then, since Sarah seemed relaxed, I thought she might be right.  I said a quick goodbye and stepped out into the hall.  Sarah immediately started screaming.  I waited to see if she'd stop soon, and when I didn't hear her for about 15 seconds, I thought she might have.  I realized she'd been holding her breath when she drew in another and continued to wail. 

I waited for about five minutes, but she kept getting more panicky.  I went back in, and she lunged for me.  I sat on the floor and tried to get her to play with me, but she kept crying and signing "car" and "home."  We stayed for the rest of the hour, and she did finally play on the slide, but she ended up crying again before it was time to leave.

I'm sick about this.  I should have known that I needed to stay longer before I left.  I made a snap decision, and it was the wrong one.  I'm afraid that I've set Sarah back again in terms of trusting me to be there for her.  She is certainly not over her separation anxiety.  Looking on the bright side, maybe I proved that I will come back when I leave, but she didn't seem to appreciate the lesson.

Some people have told me that there isn't much difference between parenting biological and adoptive kids.  I agree that the similarities outnumber the differences, but those differences can be profound.  Biological kids have such a solid foundation with their parents that most of life's transitions, no matter how difficult, are mere speed bumps.  For adopted children, the same events can be like hitting a brick wall.  That doesn't mean that all adopted kids have trouble with change; it just means that adoptive parents need to be vigilant and proactive.  It adds another layer of complexity to parenting.

I know that this morning's incident hasn't scarred Sarah for life, but I fear that it may have set her back in terms of trust and independence.  It seems we take two steps forward, then one step back.   Adopted kids' development tends to be fluid, rather than linear, ebbing and flowing.  It's not uncommon for them to regress in some areas while making progress in others.  Sarah's sleep challenges have certainly taught me that I can't count on issues being resolved permanently.  They can be triggered anew by certain events.

Of course, temperament can override an individual's life experiences.  Some kids are born unflappable, while others are naturally sensitive.  Even the adoption experts assured us that letting Sarah cry was the best way to get her to sleep well.  We found the opposite to be true.  When it comes down to it, a child should be parented according to his/her specific needs.  Parenting is an art, not a science. 

My scientific background isn't helping me much in the parenting department.  Neither is my tendency toward black-and-white, all-or-none thinking or my penchant for order and completion.  Children don't come in tidy packages, they don't fit into prefabricated boxes, and they don't follow checklists.  My creativity is being tested, and I'm dealing in more gray than ever before.  Sarah isn't the only one growing around here.