Forever

After having Sam home with us for nearly three years now, it's easy to take for granted that he knows he's going to be part of our family forever.

I don't think that he remembers anything from life before us, but I do firmly contend that buried in his psyche is a bit of insecurity. I'm also fairly well convinced that it's this insecurity that may be at the root of some of his behavior issues.

If I ever wondered, he gave me good reason last night.

In the midst of reading books, after a VERY trying weekend (he was so out of control Saturday -- witnessed and recounted by our neighbor -- that my mom couldn't even get him to soccer) he made a comment out of the blue that blew me away. I don't recall what prompted the comment, but in the midst of reading a Dr. Seuss book, he started to pout and say that he was sad that we weren't "going to keep [him] forever."

We explored this conversation for a bit. He told me that his puppy told him that Mommy and Daddy weren't going to keep him. When I asked why puppy would think that, he said, "because it's true."

I asked if he thought that bringing a new baby home meant he wouldn't stay here and he replied that he feared that the new baby was "instead of" him.

Obviously, we didn't stick to our usual bedtime routine at that point and had a very long conversation about what it means to be family; that we'd be together forever; and that Mommy and Daddy needed his help when the new baby came.

I don't know that this has anything to do with adoption but might be fairly typical new-baby-on-the-way stuff, but considering the fact that we think his "psychological organization" (yes, we've been doing lots of reading) has been affected by his frequent changes in caregivers, we're extra sensitive.

I think that I also just knew last night that we'd had our first taste of the self-doubt that we've been warned all adopted kids will go through at some point. I don't know how much soul searching a preschooler is truly doing, but in some ways, it's scarier that he just takes it as a matter of fact that we might consider him disposable.

I held it together while finishing the conversation because I didn't want him to hear anything but enthusiastic reassurances that "our family is forever," but I was a wreck when I left his room.

Thankfully, he's much more himself this morning. I tested the waters by asking him what it means to be a family and he smiled from ear to ear and said, "it means you're going to keep me forever and ever!"