Confessions of an Adoptive Parent

One of the amazing things I get to do occasionally is help launch books. I have no idea how I got into this, but I am so grateful that I did. I have read some amazing work over the past few years, and even met an incredible author. Not too long ago, I noticed a post on Facebook looking for people to help launch a book by Mike Berry, who writes the blog Confessions of an Adoptive Parent. The book, with the same title, is coming out in February and a launch team was being put together. I jumped on that. I loved reading in general, but something related to adoption?! I mean, come on!

I could not have anticipated the affect this book was going to have on me.

The day it arrived in the mail, I decided to read the first chapter or two, just to get started. Can I just tell you that by 10pm, I had finished the book. I could not put it down. I didn't want to. For the first time, I found a book (or maybe I should say the book found me) that perfectly described the thoughts and feelings that I experienced as we went through our adoption processes, specifically with Alex. These were things I had only shared with Matt because they felt too terrible to share with anyone else. I down-played everything when we were going through it all. I let people know that things were hard, but I made it sounds like a scratch when I was really dealing with a gaping wound.

I can't say for sure why I didn't share everything. I have a tendency to need to "have it all together." I didn't want to complain when we went out of our way to bring the two younger boys home. I literally chose to have this level of chaos in my life. Honestly, at the time, I couldn't see how bad it really was.

Looking back, I wish I had been more honest. I wish I been totally transparent with people. Sure, I shared my struggles with friends, but I don't know that I fully opened up with everything to anyone other than Matt. It was embarrassing and shameful in my mind.

In the book, he talks about the power in seeing someone else raise their hand and say "I've been there too." So, I am going to share some of my more personal thoughts and feelings. Maybe it will help me relieve some of the shame. Maybe it will make someone else feel normal. Regardless, I have always prided myself on sharing everything, and now I am going to.

I regretted the decision to bring home both boys. Or at least, I thought I regretted it. Lack of sleep and jumping into a level of parenting that I was not prepared for probably exaggerated my feelings. Either way, I went to bed more than once telling Matt that we did not make the right decision. I hated that I couldn't handle my middle son. I was resentful of the chaos that became our family norm. I couldn't stand the looks and judgment I would get from strangers who assumed that I was just raising a spoiled child. I was sad that the family I dreamed up was not the family God gave me. I feared that I would not be able to handle this life for much longer.

And then came the shame. Good mothers are not supposed to regret adding a child to their family. Good mothers don't resent their children. Good mothers figure it out. How could I feel this way when I worked so hard to bring these boys home?

Here's the problem with comparing myself to other mothers...most mothers, at least the mothers I know, are not dealing with brain damage due to drug and alcohol exposure. Their children were not going to have the same struggles that mine had. I was comparing apples and hamburgers. Of course I wasn't prepared for what was coming. There was no way to anticipate how easy or hard it was going to be.

I realize now that it wasn't really regret that I was experiencing; it was fear. At the time, I was certain I had made the wrong decision. I was afraid of failing. I was terrified that I had jumped into something that I could not handle. In those desperate and challenging moments, I didn't think life would ever be fun. Today, I watched my boys play Legos for two hours together. They giggled, shared, and created fantastically creative Star Wars battle ships.

Don't get me wrong. We have hard days. I still struggle to parent Alex. I have no idea what to do most of the time. The difference? The amount of hope in my heart is greater than the amount of fear.

If you are a foster or adoptive parent, I would highly recommend this book, especially if you are parenting a child with special needs. I found it to be very validating and encouraging. If you are considering foster care or adoption, I would also recommend this book because he provides some great insights and suggestions as you begin. Please don't let the severity of his circumstances scare you though. I just wish I had a more realistic idea of what could happen, as opposed to the candy-coated world I was creating in my head. Finally, I think this book would be a great read for anyone supporting a family through the adoption process. It isn't always easy to explain what adoption is like, especially to someone who hasn't been down that path. I think this can give you a solid idea of some of the feelings.

Bio Siblings

If you have followed our story, you know that we have maintained an open adoption over the past 6 1/2 years. I never would have guessed that I would appreciate having such an open relationship, but I love it. It gives my boys a connection to their biological family, and that is important to me. I want them to be able to find answers when they start asking questions.

You may or may not know that they have had two sisters born since Jake. Both were placed for adoption. While I was so happy that they are being parented by loving families, I was a little sad that the boys have family that they may never meet.

One day, I was texting with our birth mom, and she shared that the girls' adoptive families would be open to communication with us. She sent me one of their cell phone numbers (with the promise of sending the other number soon). I expected to be super excited, and I was, but I was more scared than anything else. What if I reached out and she chose not to respond?

I held onto that number for months.

One day, I read a devotion about being brave. I am not always able to directly apply devotions to my life, but this one was different. I knew almost immediately what I needed to do.

I typed out that text about 14 times. I second guessed the words I had chosen. I read and re-read it so many times that I questioned whether or not I was spelling words correctly. Finally, I knew I just had to hit send and be done with it. If she chose not to text back, so be it. To my surprise, she responded almost immediately and was open to communicating with us. Hallelujah!

Now, we haven't texted since then, but it still feels awesome to know that we have a connection to one of their sisters.

Two weeks ago, we made a trip to visit our birth mom. When I texted to see if she was free, she said that the other adoptive family might join us too! I hadn't been in touch with them before, so I had no idea if they were interested in getting to know us. How amazing that our boys might have a chance to meet their half-sister face to face!! They agreed and we set the times and place.

As the reality of the meeting set in, I became nervous. I don't actually know why. I wasn't trying to impress the other family (well, maybe I was). I didn't need them to approve of us (although I wanted them to). It was a very bizarre feeling. I think it was basically me feeling overwhelmed by how huge this was for our family.

When we got to our meeting, only our birthmom was there. We had actually feared that the adoptive family had changed their minds. Thankfully, they were just delayed because of some car issues. As they walked up, the fear disappeared.

For the next 90 minutes, we got to know each other and shared our adoption stories. It was such a unique experience to have two adoptive moms and a birth mom hanging out. While I had been so nervous, it felt so natural!

We did introduce the boys to their half-sister, and told them who she was. They didn't seem overly interested, but then again, we were at a park and they just wanted to play. I am sure questions will pop up down the road, and we'll answer them as they come.

For now, I am just thankful that our family is extending out even farther than I could have imagined.

Living by the minute.

I will be the first to admit that I am parenting 3 challenging boys. I don't pretend like we have it all together. I try not to make excuses for their bad choices. I fully acknowledge that we are a circus most days of the week. There isn't a whole lot I can do about it, aside from laugh...or cry.

When you have a child with severe emotional extremes, you learn to live by the minute because that is how quickly things seem to change.

This morning, as we dropped off CJ, Alex had what can only be described as a volcanic eruption of emotions. I was actually concerned that someone was going to call the police, assuming that I was kidnapping this poor little boy. A mom behind me actually took our her phone and held it up in a way that had me wondering if she was taking a picture or video. Paranoid? Maybe. I am sure it was just coincidental timing. Maybe.

We had a five minute walk back to the car. Let me correct myself...it should have taken 5 minutes. Fourteen minutes later, we pulled up to our van. In those 14 minutes, I walked past 7 or 8 moms who were most likely thinking "gosh, I am glad that isn't my kid." They each gave me a sympathetic half smile; some muttered "hang in there."

It then took an additional 4 minutes to simply get him from the stroller to the van. For being so small, he sure is strong when he wants to be. Last night he "couldn't" open the back door because it was "too heavy." Today, he held onto that stroller with a grip that most could only muster to prevent themselves from falling over the edge of the Grand Canyon.

Once everyone was buckled into their car seats, the stroller was put away, and I was blasting the AC to counteract the incredible amount of sweat I had worked up, we began the 12 minute drive home. 11 minutes of which involved screaming, kicking and being told "you are terrible, mom."

We were almost to our house, when Alex noticed a dog being walked. Just as quickly as the tantrum arrived, it left as he said "oh, I like that little dog." The light switched had been flicked in the other direction. I had survived.

Living by the minute really is all I can do some days. Trust me when I say some of those minutes take hours to live through. Mostly, they fly by. I go minute by minute because that is how Alex does it. Most of the time, there is no future or past with him. He lives in the present. Actions and reactions are immediate. I cannot tell him "when we get home you have a time out" because by that time he will have almost no recollection of why he is in trouble. It can be hard to do this, but it's harder to try to force my preferred parenting style on him. He needs something very different, and it is my job to figure it out and help him through.

One day, we'll look back and laugh at the craziness. Until then, I hope people around us will be understanding and patient as we navigate life minute by minute.

It's been awhile...

It has been well over a year since I last posted here. What can I say, life is a little nuts with 3 boys!

Over the past few months, life has been challenging. We have had a lot change in a short period, and I felt the need to write about it. I assume very few people read this, so it seems like a safe place to let it all out.

We've known that there would be potential challenges and/or issues for our boys (specifically CJ & Alex) due to their exposure to drugs and alcohol before they were born. We had mentally prepared ourselves for Alex more than CJ because we knew his exposure was greater. I think that is what makes a recent diagnosis for CJ so hard to accept. We weren't prepared for it. He's always seemed to have a little more energy and a little less focus than the average kid, but I didn't anticipate it creating real problems for him.

After a difficult kindergarten year, we decided to have him evaluated, assuming that it was ADHD due to his behaviors. Honestly, I had almost forgotten that he was exposed in utero. When the diagnosis came back, it was directly tied to the substance exposure. I was a little devastated. Ok, a lot devastated. ADHD seemed so much easier to handle. Drug and alcohol exposure causes brain damage. That did not seem easy to handle. The evaluating psychologist gave us a list of things that would help him - occupational therapy, behavioral therapy, meds, play therapy. The list felt super long.

I'll pause here to share that all of this was presented to us 2 weeks before school was to begin. Seriously, for a Type-A, planner like me, this was insanity. I already had it in my head how life was going to look, and now I had to completely change that. Yes, I'm being dramatic, but this is my brain. I can't help it.

We made the decision to retain him in kindergarten to take some of the academic pressure off and give him a little more time to mature. We even attended a meet-up for other kindergarten parents. Just a few days later, we met with the staff at his school to talk about a plan. We realized that the help he needed was not available there, and made the decision to withdraw him and enroll him in a public school for the upcoming year. This would give him the opportunity to get a little extra support and get him back on track.

All the planning in the world did not prepare for the emotions I felt Monday morning.

As I dropped CJ off for his first day of school, I realized that I was struggling with his move to public school more than he was. I took a lot for granted last year. I missed the security of knowing that Matt was on the same campus with him. I was sad that he would no longer have religion and faith built into all of his classes. It had been a safe place. I felt like he was protected. In reality, he is still safe and protected. Yes, he may be exposed to things that he wouldn't have before, but is that so bad? We may have to have certain conversations before I feel ready, but that is ok. I may also be taking a "worst case scenario" mindset.

There are lots of great things that will come this year. He has a male teacher, which I think is amazing! He is excited about not having uniforms (I am not. Uniforms are soooo much easier!). As he told me this morning "every day is free dress day!" He couldn't wait to run around on the grass field, something they didn't have at his last school. I'm not going to lie, the extra funds in the bank account each month helps a little too.

Can I also admit that I am struggling with feelings of failure? My head knows that there is nothing that I could have done to prevent this, but my heart still aches for the challenges that will be coming his way. I am also trying to hold my head up while knowing that people have been talking about us. Guessing the reasons why we withdrew CJ. Making assumptions about him and our family. It hurts. You know what, I can't let that bother me. I'm too freakin' busy to worry about their discussion. I got my own crap to deal with.

Sometimes, we have to admit when our plan is not the best plan for our children. And that is hard. Like, really hard. While I would love to think that private education is the best path for everyone; it's not. He is going to get the resources and support he desperately needs right now. I can't ask for much more than that!

Eggshells

I think I've mentioned before, but we have dealt with some serious anger and behavioral problems with our middle son. I didn't look back to see what I wrote, but I'm guessing I probably downplayed it a bit. We know the cause, or at least part of it, and have gone to counseling in the past to try to help manage the outbursts. Honestly, I thought we were past the worst of it.

We are now on day 4 of a tantrum cycle. It ain't pretty. I live my life walking on eggshells because I am terrified of the next fit.

Let me give you a glimpse into life at our house, so you'll an idea of what is happening:

We are playing a game. I pick up the wrong piece. Tears and screaming. He sits in timeout to compose himself and starts hitting himself. I sit with him to try to help and he yells at me to sit someplace else. I walk away and he yells for me to come sit with him. (20 minutes passes) He calms down and we go back to playing. Snack time comes. I open the granola bar from the "wrong end." Tears and screaming. I set him back in timeout to calm down. He starts hitting his head on the wall, so I put him in his bed to calm down. (20 minutes passes). He comes out, says he's calm and we go back to snack time. Repeat about 15 more times because I have either driven down the wrong street, not acknowledged his dinosaur properly, given him the wrong color spoon or any other totally logical reason to melt down.

It got so bad that I cried at preschool pick up two days ago. He was having a fit about a toy that was taken away. I had to pick up my oldest, so into the school we marched. All eyes were on us because the screams made it sound like he was being attacked. As we approached the door to the classroom, I made eye contact with the teacher and lost it. She took my screamer aside and a friend wrapped me up in a big hug.

I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I can do to help. You know what I realized, my reactions to his temper are a trigger for the larger tantrums. I can hold it together for awhile, but then on the 15th scream, I fall apart. That makes him get a little more upset and together we snowball into complete madness.

Today, I woke up determined to make it better. I promised myself and God that I would do everything in me to remain calm, no matter how tough it got. I decided to take a moment if needed before responding to him, to ensure that I was not the cause of the issue.

This morning, as he started falling apart because I wouldn't let him buy six dinosaurs at Walmart, I took a breath and calmly reminded him that we didn't need to buy any. It took a few minutes, but he eventually realized that I wasn't going to change my mind and he calmed down. Success!! Maybe I can do this!

It's easy to stay calm for a few hours, or even an entire day, but can I do it forever? Probably not. Honestly, it's not reasonable to think that I will always be 100% calm. You know what? As long as I wake up with a good attitude, take a few breaths before I respond to him, and forgive myself when I mess up, I think I'll be ok.

Dear birth mom...

This past week, Simply Real Moms allowed me to share a letter that I wrote to our birth mom. Honestly, it was one of the harder things I've shared. I'm open about most aspects of our adoption, but I tend to be very protective of my relationship with Brooke. This was definitely one of the more personal things I've written for the website. I get asked so often about having an open adoption. I think the idea scares most people, but after living it for five years, I wouldn't have it any other way.

http://www.simplyrealmoms.com/posts/dear-birth-mom

Happy National Adoption Month!

I do not have enough words to describe how much adoption has blessed my life. It is a road I never imagined we would journey down, but I am grateful for this path. It has connected me with amazing people, many of whom I would not have built a relationship with otherwise. It has taught me a lot, both about myself and the world around me. It has turned our lives upside down in the best way possible. It wasn't easy. It stretched us to our limits at times...many times. In the end, it was totally worth it. I thank God every day for our birth mom, three crazy boys, and the many friends I have made along the way.