Adoption Under One Roof

Last week, MSN.com ran an interesting article entitled Perfectionists at risk for postpartum blues. According to that article, “New mothers who think they should be perfect parents might be at risk for postpartum depression.” That got me thinking about whether perfectionism might tie into suffering from post-adoption depression (PAD).

I did a search of our website on post-adoption depression, and I was shocked to discover that I have not blogged about this topic. I, myself, suffered from it, and I just assumed that I must have covered it at some point. Wrong! I definitely felt the pressure to be the “perfect” adoptive parent, so it would not surprise me to learn that perfectionism does, in fact, tie into experiencing post-adoption depression.

I really did feel pressured to be a “perfect” mother. It started with the home study (if not before), when I had to “prove” to a “complete stranger” that I was “good enough” to adopt a child. On this side of the adoption, I understand the need and purpose for a home study. However, when I went through it, I felt judged and that I had to prove how “perfect” I would be as a parent.

Then, after we were matched with my son’s then expecting mother, I felt even more of a responsibility to be a “perfect” mother. I believed that she chose us to parent her baby because of our “perfection,” so I must live up to that standard. Ironically, I am willing to bet that my son’s birth mother just wanted us to love and care for her baby. I doubt she expected me to be a perfect mother, but I sure put that pressure on myself.

I had longed for, cried for, and prayed for the moment that I would be a mother for 4-1/2 agonizing years. So, when I finally held my son in my arms, I assumed that motherhood would be the be-all and end-all of the universe. That did not happen.

Being a new mother was hard work. I got sporadic sleep with my son needing to eat at 8:00 p.m., 11:00 p.m., 3:00 a.m., and 7:00 a.m. We had only moved to our community the year before, and the only friends I had in the state were from my job, which I had quit to be a stay-at-home mom. This meant that I had no support at home. I was lonely and overwhelmed. I finally had a meltdown when my son was five weeks old: I bawled my eyes out and watched Sleepless in Seattle at 3:00 a.m. just so I could have some “me” time and remember who I was before my life revolved around feeding and changing the diapers of this baby who gave me nothing in return. (He smiled at me the first time the next morning, which really helped a lot.)

What helped me pull out of the post-adoption depression was meeting other new mothers. I believed that I did not have the right to complain about anything involved in being a new mother. I thought that I waived that right forever when I agreed to parent an adopted child: I had to be 100% happy about every single aspect of parenting. However, the bio moms I met were quick to complain about how much it sucked not getting eight hours of sleep or having to deal with poop diapers all day.

Soon after this, I allowed myself to get annoyed with my son over something minor. I believe that was the moment that I embraced my adopted child as my child. As long as I needed to be the “perfect” parent, I was not treating my son like family. Once I allowed myself to feel what I was feeling, the post-adoption depression lifted, and we became a true family.

Photo credit: Lynda Bernhardt