Nobody likes me. Nobody loves me. Nobody cares about me.
When we started the adoption process, we heard a lot about attachment, and we definitely wanted to get that part right. We carried our daughter in a body worn baby carrier. My husband and I split her first three months home, so she would stay with just us and not go straight to daycare. We also took care of her primary care giving needs the first three months home: feeding, changing, soothing, bathing, etc. We did everything we knew to do to foster a secure attachment and build trust, and it worked for us. Except now it feels like we have lost all the ground that we made.
On a daily basis we hear, “Nobody likes me. Nobody loves me. Nobody cares for me.” It’s exhausting to always offer the positive, “I like you. I love you. I care about you,” but we know from experience that arguing does not work. Logically explaining how everything we do everyday shows how much we love her, like her, and care for her gets us nowhere. I think she is seeking affirmation, and so though I want to scream, “Enough, that’s not true!” several times a day we say, “I love you. I like you. I care about you.”
Other times, she talks about when she was Vietnam and how she missed us while she was there. Then she used to weep after talking about Vietnam, but for the most part that has subsided. Now, when she is sad, she asks, “Mom, I’m sad so will you sing the Vietnam song to me?”: “Little, little, little Elise. You are such a precious baby. You are loved by your mommy and daddy. We went to Vietnam to get you sweet baby. Little, little, little Elise. You are such a precious baby.” Then at bedtime the routine question is, “But when I wake up will you still be here?” I say, “Yes,” and off she goes to bed. We do this every night.
Much of this started after the arrival of her little sister when we stayed 3 nights in the hospital. This apparently rocked her little world more than we could ever imagine. And we tried to support her through this transition as best as we could, but it feels like we’ve lost some of her trust. I keep wondering what all she’s trying to process and when our affirmations and assurances will be enough, but it hasn’t happened yet. Though I don’t know for sure what’s behind it, we will keep saying, “I love you. I like you. I care about you,” for as long as it takes for her to feel secure. We have to; it’s what she needs.
My husband wrote his thoughts in the post “Time, Love, and Family.”
PDF Also Found In: A Mother's Heart, Tapestry Blog