It happened to me…
When our daughter was about one year old, the euphoria of being a mother began to wear off, and I understood, for the first time, how difficult the loss was for our daughters birthmother. I felt very guilty and sad when I thought about breaking her heart. Our continuing contact has helped enormously. She has been unswerving in her conviction that she made the right decision; hearing her voice as she heals has been so helpful. I am a better parent, I believe, because I can convey both the sadness and the joy of adoption to my daughter. My advice? Recognize your sadness. Talk to others or keep a journal. Seek treatment if your depression interferes with life.
Oh boy, did I ever have post-adoption depression. I was a brand-new mom, irritable and restless. I had no idea what I was doing. I cried a lot and slept poorly. I muddled through and finally started exercising more. Being able to talk to our daughters childcare provider, the mother of a child the same age as mine, gave me some sanity. With child number two, the depression was even worse. Everything set me off. Ultimately, I went on antidepressants. Im a much better mother, wife, and friend now. I wouldnt change any of what I experiencedit brought me here and I like where I am.
I had sudden onsets of sorrow, panic, and anxiety, and I was afraid Id never attach to my child. We had waited so long for this, so why was I sad? My supportive husband reminded me, gently, that we had spent eight years in infertility and two in the adoption process, and now, it was over. We had a beautiful daughter! We were parents! I was fortunatethe depression lasted only a few weeks, and I formed a strong attachment to my daughter very quickly.
I found myself crying over my newborn son, wondering if his birthmother missed him, and feeling sad because I, and not she, was holding this beautiful little boy. My husband was patient but didnt understand. I finally got used to the idea of a new baby, and now feel our sons place is with our family.
It was a mixture of sleep deprivation, grief for the birth
Our first sons arrival, just before the holidays, along with jet lag and illness, set me up for depression. Fortunately, our adoption medical specialist recognized what I was going through immediately, and helped me through it. When our second son came home, I should have been ecstatic, but we had lost two referrals, as well as my dad, only months earlier. So, instead, I felt overwhelmed and unfit. Making matters worse, our sons foster family in Guatemala would have adopted him had they been able to afford it. Seeing their pain made it impossible for me to rejoice. This time, I sought counseling. I hired a helper. I made time to write, shop, and relax. My counselor said that adoptive moms seem to feel so lucky to be parents that we put our childrens wellbeing before our own. Its not good for usor our kids.
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