That Cosmic Connection

 

As Baby A’s due date approached, I admit one of my biggest fears was over that father-son bond that often comes so natural for birth parents. Would Baby A see me as a dad? Would he be scared of me? Would I feel that bond with him? Would I feel that he was my son? Or would there be a barrier in my brain that would keep me saying he’s my “adopted child?”

It’s just one of those things you worry about. I had never been a parent before, adopted or otherwise. It wasn’t unexpected that I had all sorts of anxious fears swirling in my head, mixed up with all the excitement as well.

I had read so much about adoption in 2021. I read medical and psychology pieces about adoption and forming bonds. I read tips on how to build on that, like skin-on-skin time. I also read many firsthand accounts from adopted dads. I read accounts from dads who felt that bond right away. And I read accounts from dads who didn’t feel it right away and had to work at it. And there’s no judgement there. They are wonderful dads, I am sure. Just the fact they were writing about it tells me how engaged they were. But they were honest and said it just wasn’t there at first. And I appreciated that honest.

But, when Baby A was born, I felt it. I felt that cosmic connection between us. Now, granted, in our arrangement we had the fortune of being there at his birth. He was placed in my arms only a couple of minutes after he was birthed. And I felt it. “You are my son- I was meant to be your dad”. I felt it right away, and I was overwhelmed with emotion.

Yet, I was also aware that to him, I was still a stranger. Of all the voices he heard in the womb, mine was not one of them except for a couple of days before he was born when I was able to have dinner with the birth mother. So, my voice was really new to him. And he had no biological connection to me. So ever though I felt that cosmic connection, I knew I had some work to do.

One thing I made sure I did was talk to him every single time I fed him. Sometimes it was very deep. And sometimes it was very trivial. Anything and everything, I talked to him about. And I made sure I never broke eye contact with him. With each feeding, more and more he would look more intently at me. And as he did so, I made sure I met his eyes. This was my way of letting him get the opportunity to know me and trust me. And even though we got chastised by so many experts for doing this, in those early weeks my wife and I were both getting up for every overnight feeding and spending that time with him.

And then in addition to those feeding times, I spent a lot of time with him during awake hours just engaging with him. Reading to him. Singing to him. Floor time with him. It was exhausting, but it was also fun. Those first five weeks, I was by his side nearly every waking minute. And then it happened. That one day I was holding him on my lap, and he just broke out into giggles at me talking silly to him. It was the first time I had heard him truly laugh. And he was so happy looking at me. And in that moment, I knew that it had formed in him. He saw me as dad. He felt that cosmic connection.

We are coming up on five months, as hard as it is to believe. Now when he sees either one of us as he wakes or he’s done with floor time, he’s throwing his arms up telling us to pick him up. He smiles and laughs around us so much. He splashes and laughs like a silly boy in the bath. And while yes, he does have his meltdown moments, especially at bedtime, he is just such a happy boy. And it’s just the best.

I would say, at least in my experience, it was a mix of both something that came naturally, and something that took some effort to build. On my end, I felt it right away. But for him, that work was necessary. And with the benefit of hindsight, I can now see that trepidation in him those first couple of weeks. Comparing his behavior then to know, it’s clear it took him a couple of weeks to get to know us and trust us.

But make no mistake. There is no “adopted child” barrier in my brain. I don’t even think about that most days. My brain, heart, and soul are all in unison with each other: he’s, my son.