Many children who are adopted have some special needs.
Children adopted from the foster care system may show emotional and behavioral needs related to neglect or frequent separations (although most of these kids do very well, contrary to the media focus on problems).
Children from overseas may have a birth defect which is correctable by relatively routine surgery common in this country but not in theirs, for example a cleft palate or club foot. In some cultures facial differences can make life harder and these children may be more likely to be placed for adoption.
Parents may consider a child with minor special needs, perhaps from a photolisting, because the waiting times are so much shorter.
There are varied reasons why adoptive parents may end up parenting a child with a special need. Today I’d like to discuss how to talk to the child and other children about that special need.
My daughter Regina has ptosis, otherwise known as a droopy eyelid. We’ve always tried to be matter-of-fact about it. Although Regina’s doctor told me that children don’t notice facial differences until about age 5, my experience was that three-year-olds asked me all the time “what’s wrong with her eye?” I would respond, “The muscles on that side don’t hold the eyelid up as high as the other one.” That usually seemed to satisfy most kids. I think it’s normal for kids to be curious, and I don’t want Regina to feel that her eye is too horrible to be spoken about aloud. I’m fine when kids ask about it. I did feel uncomfortable when one little questioner’s grandmother turned to him and said, “See how lucky you are? Thank God for your blessings.” I felt it was unnecessarily pitying and I didn’t want Regina to think her cosmetic issue was a bigger deal than it was. And I certainly don’t think God has blessed Regina any less than us “healthy” people.
Shortly before Regina’s fourth birthday, I observed her on several occasions looking in the mirror and trying to hold her eyelid up. One day she said to me while we were in the car, “Mommy, I don’t like my eye. It doesn’t go.” I clarified that she meant “doesn’t go up all the way [the eyelid]” and told her what I told other kids, that the muscle wasn’t as strong on that side and the doctors would fix it when she was older. She seemed okay with that.
Soon after, we learned that she would have to wear an eyepatch over her the other eye to keep the affected eye from becoming more “lazy”. Her brother and sister enthusiastically told her she would look like Captain Feathersword of the Wiggles. Her brother made her a sword out of craft sticks and feathers and told her she could have it only while wearing her patch. She was still very self-conscious at first, protesting and whimpering about taking a family photo before leaving my parents’ house, but she’s adjusted fine.
I realize that many families have to deal with much more serious conditions than Regina’s. I am also thankful that she received speech, motor and cognitive therapy through the state Early Intervention/Birth to Three program to combat early delays. She “graduated” from therapy long before she was ever self-conscious about being in it.
The discussion with Regina about her eyelid didn’t sound so much different from a discussion of adoption. Some of the principles I developed for talking about these things will be shared in the next blog.
Please see these related blogs:
How Early Intervention Helped Our Family
Putting on a Brave Face: Children with Facial Disfigurements
Early Intervention: Give Your Child a Head Start!