"If something tragic happened to my adopted daughter I'd be devastated, but I wouldn't die. If something happened to either of my two boys who I gave birth to, I feel I would die," says Tina Pattie. "I don't love my daughter any less, but it's a different kind of love. With my sons, my love is set in stone. It's that ‘die for you love' that would never change, no matter what. With Cheri, it's a love that develops and grows. It's more of a process than an absolute."
Ask most adopters whether they think their love for their children is any different than it would be if they had their own offspring, and you can generally expect a resounding no. Very likely, they'll be offended it even crossed your mind. But in families such as Tina's — where there are both biological and non-biological children — it's a question that is put to the test. It's a question that gets to the very heart of what it means to be a parent.
"I don't care how close you are to your adopted son or beloved stepdaughter, the love you have for your non-biological child isn't the same as the love you have for your own flesh and blood," wrote Rebecca Walker in her recent book, Baby Love. "Yes, I would do anything for my first [non-biological] son, within reason. But I would do anything at all for my second [biological] child without reason, without a doubt," added the estranged daughter of the prize-winning author Alice Walker.
Her comment has attracted much controversy, but Tina relates to it. She had always wanted three children, so when she was told it could jeopardize her health to have a third baby naturally, she persuaded her husband to adopt. Her preference was for a baby, but none was available and they were offered a little girl five weeks off her fourth birthday.
"I was totally and absolutely shocked to find that in the early years, I felt no love at all for her," recalls Tina. "It didn't even feel right to say she was my daughter. The word ‘daughter' describes a relationship, a connection — things we didn't have."
There was no one point at which Tina began to love Cheri, now 17. "It was a drip, drip, drip kind of process. Now, I love her a lot. I'm really proud of her and close to her, but it has taken time," she says.
Pttie has spent a lot of time "unpacking" the disparity in her feelings for her children. "I think there are several things going on. First, she wasn't a newborn baby, like my sons had been. There's nothing quite like a newborn baby. Second, when you get a stranger in your house, you're not going to love it straight away, you're just not.
Then there was the fact that Cheri was a hugely damaged and difficult child. Even now, I wonder that if she'd been sweet and easy instead of angry and violent whether it would have been different. Instead, I turned from a calm, patient mother into a monster. I'd never felt rage like that, ever. But even in the blackest moments, when there was no connection between us at all, there was never a question that I would give up."
Mary Cooper did adopt a newborn baby, but she too found it difficult to use the word "daughter" in the early days. "This was 37 years ago, when I was a psychiatric social worker and had my own three-year-old son. It was assumed I'd know it all, but I was not prepared for the difference between giving birth and adopting," she says. "You don't have nine months to prepare, you don't go through the birth and you don't breastfeed. I was completely a nurture not a nature person — I didn't think nature mattered — but I've changed my mind. I wasn't aware of the differences that I would feel or that Louise would feel as a result of us not sharing any genes. With my son, there was an instant bond. With Louise, there wasn't and every way you turned, it seemed she was different to us. If we had brown sugar, she wanted white. If I cooked something, she wanted (an instant microwave meal) ... . I don't love either of my children more than the other, but the nature of the relationship is poles apart."



