Ever since Madison and I talked on this day about her concerns that I would be jealous if she openly expressed her affection for Pennie, things have been better. A lot better. Madison is much more open with me about her Pennie feelings and much more spontaneous in bringing her up in discussion. That’s not to say that things were bad before because they weren’t but it turns out they could have been better and now they are.

Here, I’ve got to stop and say that there is a huge lesson for me in this. I hear so often from other adoptive parents that their kids are “fine” because they never bring up adoption, never talk about their birth parents, never seem interested in their adoption stories, seem neutral about visits, etc. Never bringing it up or bringing it up cautiously or appearing disinterested might be the norm for some kids (I’m not discounting that it might be) but it also might be because we adoptive parents do such a good job of sending our kids the message that their curiosity, concern, love, passion, fear, anger, sadness, grief or other messy feelings are unacceptable to us. I believe it is so so so important to bring it up first and bring it up often in casual, not-necessarily-serious ways. I think they will tell us when we get it wrong (as Madison humorously did here) so I think it’s worth the risk.

Anyway, Madison was excited about two things today: 1) Seeing black Santa; and 2) seeing her beloved Pennie.

On the way to the bookstore, she started talking about when Pennie eventually has another baby because Madison has decided she’s against this. She likes being the only child and she thinks that’s how things ought to stay. I asked her how she thinks she’ll feel when/if Pennie does have another baby. She thought about it and said, “I would be pretty down about it.” (She brought this up because she was talking about family size and how some of her friends have bigger families while she thinks two kids is about perfect. Fortunately, I happen to agree.)

I feel for Madison here. I am awaiting Pennie’s someday parenthood with equal parts excitement and worry. I will be so happy for her and can’t wait to meet (and snuggle) her future babies but I know that no matter what, it’ll be hard for Madison and I dread her hurting.

So we met Pennie and we didn’t meet black Santa (I’ll write about that tomorrow — we were all disappointed although Madison and I also had a good conversation around the lack of Santas of color but this is a pretty full entry already). Pennie was starving so we headed out to eat. Pennie & Madison were giggly girls running across the street and getting lemonade and eating nachos and talking about hair products. Good times. Then we drove home (with plans for Madison to come make cookies with Pennie on the 24th like they did last year).

And on the way home, Madison talked about not liking to share Pennie because Pennie brought a friend along and I told her she needed to tell Pennie that and Madison said, “Why, because it would make her feel good?” And I said, “No, because she probably doesn’t know that you’d like to spend time with just her sometimes.” Then we got home and I was checking my email and Madison came into the kitchen with her tights off and her fancy dress all crooked and said, “Why am I not living with Pennie?”

And I told her what I felt like I could tell her (because truthfully, I feel like the answer to that question is going to take her whole life to figure out and even then it’ll be just one piece of a huge, complicated story).

Now I can see the path Madison took to get to that question. She’s been asking for the book Madeleine over and over (she spontaneously recited the first few stanzas over lunch) and I think this inspired her to ask the other day if she was alone in the hospital when she was just born. I told her that she was NEVER alone in the hospital and that the hospital was when Pennie was taking care of her. I said, “That was the time when Pennie was just being your mommy and not your birth mommy. I was not your mommy until you came home with us and the hospital was a very special time for just the two of you to be together. You were NOT alone.” (And was anyone else wigged out as a kid that Madeleine’s parents couldn’t even take it upon themselves to visit? I envied the dollhouse but I couldn’t figure out why her parents only sent it instead of rushing to bring it themselves.)

I won’t say how I explained Pennie’s decision to become Madison’s birth mommy and make me Madison’s mommy mommy here just because it feels sensitive (some specifics) but part of what I say emphasizes how much Pennie has always loved her and will always love her and that it was a difficult complicated decision. And I told her that she can talk to Pennie about this even though it’s hard. And I emphasized that her birth was a joyous occasion for all of us but I think even a 4-almost 5-year old can hear that there are no easy answers.

Madison asked twice why she wasn’t living with Pennie. She didn’t ask why she couldn’t; she asked why she wasn’t. It’s an important distinction. The first time she asked, she wanted an answer. The second time, it was rhetorical and she was sad. And I was sad for her. She was extra cuddly tonight and our first night of Hanukkah was fairly low key in part because we were both feeling moon-y.

At the beginning of our open adoption, I hadn’t realized how their relationship would change. It was short-sighted of me but then I’d never done this before. There was a time when Madison seemed angry with Pennie and a time when she didn’t seem much to care. In hindsight I appreciate that these were part of Madison’s developmental path but I also appreciate how easy it would have been to let them define our whole adoption. I can see why — without support and information — an adoptive parent might let those developmental snapshots dictate the course of openness. I can kind of understand how a person might say, “She finds the phone calls upsetting so we decided to stop” or “he just shrugs when we look at his lifebook so I put it away for now” but I will say again that I think this is a mistake.

Openness — not simply visits or cards or pictures or phone calls, because I know that there are those adoptions that don’t lend themselves to this for lack of information or because of safety issues — but true openness, which is meeting our children with honesty and a willingness to share, it brings it all out into the, well, open. And I think that’s nothing but good.

I cried today after Madison fell asleep because it’s not easy to see her hurting. If she hadn’t seen Pennie today, I don’t think she would have brought up her adoption. I don’t think she would have expressed such sadness. But I do believe the sadness would have been there only maybe she wouldn’t have words for it or known why she felt sad. And to have an experience that helps her put name to her emotions and to have some relationship even if it’s not the one she might wish for, that’s so important. I believe it goes such a long way to helping her be a strong survivor, to develop her resiliency and self-esteem.