I think sometimes as adoptive parents, we think that attachment is warm and fuzzy with lots of bells and whistles, but if we’re going to be successful adoptive parents, we have to look at attachment in different ways. I have found as an adoptive parent that love comes very easy. Life is full of intention and purpose, and it literally multiplies the more that you need.

I am not sure, though, if we understand attachment fully.

Let’s talk about attachment in infant adoption first. Those parents who have adopted infants—the moment they are handed that child—there can be this internal bond that involves purpose, faith, and connection. An adoptive parent of an infant will say, “I knew this was the child I was waiting for.”

More complex is the bonding and attachment that you have for an older child.

You spend months preparing, getting through the broken barriers of the child welfare system usually, and out comes this eight-year-old little girl that you have dreamt about. You’ve logically chosen eight; you’ve balanced all the reasons, and you have an instinct when you see them.

Attachment to older children can come later, and we have to allow ourselves that honesty. Sometimes it’s like a bolt of lightning, but that bolt of lightning might come after they’ve been with you for five months.

My one son who was 12—who I had known for many years in the system—always had my love from a distance.

The day I knew he was mine, his placement was breaking down in another state and he was getting on a plane to come back to foster care in our area. As an administrator, I knew what was happening on the cases. He was 12 years old, and when I learned of his disruption, I got this pain in my heart, and I swear it was God’s voice in my head that said, “That is your child.” I would liken that pain to the ache a mother feels when a breastfeeding child cries. It was instantaneous, and it took over my whole body. It did not involve logic, thought, preparation—it just was. I went to my boss that day and asked to be taken off anything with this child work-wise because I was adopting him.

What I did not know is that for all the years I had known him, I also had a place in his heart. He walked into my home two days later, and the basis of our bond and attachment was firmly rooted.

Which was really good, because as a child who had been in 47 placements, there were lots of behaviors ahead.

Adopting my mirror 17-year-old son was quite a different journey. I had known him most of his life too, and the system absolutely did care and love him. I wanted him to have a better family than I could give him, and so I recruited for a very long time. One of our recruitment efforts went viral—thousands of families asked to adopt him. He was given to one family, and that fell apart in three months.

He called me and asked me to adopt him now, and I said yes. I knew I loved him, but it was logic that led the way, and it’s hard to instantly attach to a 17-year-old who is very, very independent. Bonding came in small moments—like getting a pedicure together on our shared birthday, or the moments when he would come and talk about his faith and his deep feelings about life. In those small moments, my attachment grew. I believe his attachment grew and eventually extended to our family as a whole, but after 17 years and an incredibly broken system, it had to be so hard for him.

In the end, my love for him led to my attachment and bonding to him. If you lined all my children up, the love would be endless—but the attachments would be unique, all deep and heartfelt.

It was their teenage testing that made it difficult at times.

Children we adopt from the child welfare system—because they come from trauma—usually take more time to attach than the adoptive parent. I think it’s fair to say that the adoption systems in foster care follow the goal of the child, but I have rarely seen a child truly understand what comes with adoption. Asking them to instantaneously bond is asking them to forget all their trauma and pain and become a wonderful, happy child completely attached to this adoptive parent.

That seldom, if ever, happens. It’s like asking someone who has just gotten divorced, “OK, now you need to get married. Oh wait—here’s your spouse. Love and attach to each other forever after.”

Attachment and bonding in older-child adoption come in small moments for the child: when they realize they have a warm, clean bed; when they don’t have to worry about being fed; when their fight-or-flight finally settles down. Suddenly there is consistent, structured routine, and they feel safe. And when they test this caretaker, the caretaker is strong and consistent and nurturing and unconditional. Slowly, small connectors form—a bonding and attachment.

It does not happen suddenly or overnight. It’s important for adoptive families to understand that. And it is when we, as adoptive parents, walk through the pain with them—in their steepest and darkest moments—that we come out on the other side more connected than ever.

I think if everyone thought of adoption as an unconditional connection to another human being that, no matter what, cannot be broken—over time, again and again—that is where we suddenly find healthy attachment.