A friend (who is an adoptive parent) recently suggested I read “The Primal Wound” by Nancy Newton Verrier. I have read numerous books about adoption, but most focused on search and reunion processes because I began reading as I was seriously considering my search (again) a couple of years ago. While Verrier’s book includes information about search and reunion, the core of the book is about the impact abandonment has on babies. I marked significant passages in the book and will likely write several posts about my reactions to those passages. I have not spoken much about the “wound” that I experienced as an adoptee, but I hope doing so now will give me peace in the matter and serve as a reminder to all adoptees that someone understands. Here goes…
The adoption process – a beautiful, loving experience – always begins with an abandonment. Those are not the exact words in Verrier’s book, but that’s how I interpreted what I read. Abandonment. It’s a word we don’t like to throw around much in relationship to adoption, which is why my adoptive parents took great pains to explain to me that only a mom who loved me so much could actually give me to another family. Turns out, they were right. My natural mom made her decision because she believed I would be better off with a two-parent family. But the abandonment occurred nonetheless.
As a kid, I intellectually acknowledged this loving natural mom who gifted me to my family, but emotionally I couldn’t help but process the feelings of it too – I was abandoned. Period. At times, I was so concerned about being abandoned again that I was basically paralyzed. I cried every day of first grade because I was afraid my parents wouldn’t pick me up from school. Literally cried. And made myself sick because I was so worked up. I waited anxiously every single day for a car I recognized because that was another day I would have a family. My adoptive parents never gave me any legitimate reason to question whether they would be there, but I questioned it anyway and likely drove them crazy trying to find solutions to my angst.
Verrier explores the power of the abandonment from an interesting perspective – it’s based on the bond a baby feels to her mother. A bond that is deep and strong regardless of whether the baby ever saw the mother or was held by the mother. The 40-week pregnancy experience is the source of the bond and allows the baby to know its mother’s smell, voice, touch, and, interestingly, allows it to pick out it mother’s face from a gallery of photos within minutes after birth (see page 5 referencing work by Dr. David Chamberlain). I wouldn’t have understood this idea prior to reuniting with my natural mom, but I get it. I get it because there is something about her voice that is soothing and washes peace over me – and it happened the very first time we spoke. We both wonder if it’s because of the countless hours she spoke to me while she was pregnant.
In my experience, abandonment is real. And it doesn’t go away. I still have abandonment anxieties that are played out in my every day life. For example, I have very few friends. That is driven, in part, by the fact that I am an introvert, but a piece of it is because I don’t allow myself to engage with people I don’t trust to keep me in their lives for a long, long time. Another example is in relationships. I have sabotaged several dating relationships because I was going to be the one doing the leaving. I knew it at the time, though I wouldn’t have admitted it then, but I didn’t feel like I had other good choices. Now, I am married to a great guy who, even in our toughest times, has never talked about giving up, but I have talked about throwing in the towel several times so that if he says “yes” it was really my idea. Intellectually, the whole thing is bizarre. If abandonment is so bad, why would I be willing to do it to someone else? But that’s just the thing. Abandonment isn’t about intellect. It’s about emotion. Emotion that comes from a child, a baby even. And that isn’t logical. And it’s all about self-preservation.
If you are the loved one of an adoptee who is dealing with these issues, please be patient with him/her. And if you are an adoptee and are experiencing these feelings, please know that other people have experienced them too. The wound is legitimate. And it’s okay to talk about it.
Through the Eyes of an Adopted Kid 
Hi Becky. I just stumbled across your blog. I am 36 and was also adopted as a baby. I could have written what you wrote almost word for word about crying at school in first grade. It’s comforting to know there are others going through a similar journey and experience. 🙂
Hi, Shana! Thanks for writing. Would love to hear more of your story if you feel like sharing at some point.
Abandonment is an issue I have dealt with my entire life with no logical reason until now. It’s interesting how you come across what you need when you need it.
My adoptive mother dealt with my extreme separation anxiety at school, at church, and in all life changing situations. I also made myself sick and wanted to be home from school with her.
Anxiety attacks have been a constant part of my life and I sabotage relationships so I am the one leaving. I’m sure I am difficult to understand.
Your blog has steered me to seek therapy. Thank you.
I’m so glad you’ve chosen to seek therapy. It has been very helpful to me. Thank you for sharing. And blessings!
I have browsed a number of blogs regarding adoption, and was pleased to hear a voice of reason – and validation – on this page. Thanks.
I was adopted as an infant. Mine was a forced adoption.
The Australian government has apologised to the victims – parents and children – of past adoption practices which made it possible for living beings to be sacrificed to ease the burden of infertility experienced by “good” married couples. Unfortunately, “sacrificed” is so painfully obvious now with the benefit of half a century of hindsight. My adoptive parents managed to negotiate their infertility with changing medical knowledge and go on to have their own biological child. The difference between the way my adopted parents have and continue to treat me (and also my genetically unrelated adopted sister) compared with their attitude and treatment of their biological child is really rather disgusting. I forgive them, and so does my sister, I just wish more people in the world would understand the ongoing injustice of the socially engineered practice of adoption. It is a difficult burden in a world where adoptive parents enjoy painting themselves as selfless caring people taking unwanted kids. Sorry, but I was never unwanted, just stolen.
Oh my, we sound like twins. I understand it all. I have been working on myself for years, however still have issues with relationships. Thanks for sharing and being so raw with your emotions.
Hi Becky, I found your blog while searching for an adoption support group for my daughter. She is 15 and we adopted her when she was 2. She is hurting so much right now. I have seen this fear of abandonment play out in my girl for years in different ways.
She has dreams that we stop at a gas station and then leave her there.
When she has after school practice, she asks for confirmation that we’re picking her up at x time dozens of times. I’d say, “have I ever not picked you up from school?” (Taking it as an affront to my ability to remember what time her practice was over, rather than realizing it was never about me.) It took weeks for me to realize it was a legitimate fear she had.
Thank you for sharing and helping me see that she’s not alone in these fears.
Jessica: I appreciate the efforts you are making to support your daughter. It takes a lot of understanding and patience.