The Beginning Part 2

Taking a baby, 2 year old and a 3 year old in was more of a challenge than we could have ever imagined. Our “honeymoon” period with the kids was really nonexistent.

When you take the classes to become a foster parent, they tell you all sorts of horror stories about children that have been in care. Week after week, they literally try to scare you. I assume they want to prepare you for the worst possibly scenario and also make sure you are serious. We sat there, knowing their were rough kids out there, but knew that wouldn’t happen to us. We also were certain that if we had a child like one of “those” kiddos, we’d love them, be consistent with them and “fix” them; that’s all they needed, right?

Our oldest child, who was 3 by the time we got him, was far beyond any horror story we heard in classes. He hit, bit, kicked, spit, scratched, pinched, tried to poke eyes out, threw things, jumped on siblings, intentionally wet and pooed his pants… If put in the same bathtub or a wading pool with a sibling, he’d grab them and try to hold them under water. He could not be left alone for a second. He spent better part of every day in time outs spitting for hours on end. We could not physically punish him, so we’d have to stay close by him to make him stay in his spot. Every time you got near him you became the victim of all his rage. He lied incessantly, for no reason at all at times. He acted out sexually. He had serious eating issues.

In all that we faced with him, the scariest part of all of it was how much pleasure he took in doing harm to others. They cried, he laughed. It was scary! It was impossible not to picture him as a future psychopath.

Despite his behavior at home, he charmed the socks off of everyone he met outside the home. He never met a stranger. Everyone thought he was sooooo adorable. He was so manipulative I can’t even begin to describe it. At 3, he told me how to do everything, how to drive, where to turn, how to cook, sweep, fold clothes….. It took an entire month with our counselor who had years and years of training and experience with this type of child to recognize that our son was manipulating her and running their sessions.

We committed to loving him, but liking him, was an entirely different matter. The state made us take them to daycare. At first, I was adamantly opposed to them not being at home with me. I took them a few hours a day a couple of days a week. Soon I began to live for the days when someone else would watch him for a while. Everyday when I went to pick them up, I was greeted by a swarm of children all wanting to tell me how many times and ways my child had hurt them.

If you haven’t already guessed it, he has Reactive Attachment Disorder or RAD. Getting him diagnosed was a nightmare. He was so young, no one on our team saw any need for anything but a consistent home. After the diagnosis, the counselor wanted us to get him “labeled” as a behavioral or therapeutic level child. (Our state has differing levels of foster kids and parents: traditional for “normal” kiddos, behavioral for those with beyond normal behavioral issues, therapeutic for extreme kiddos and medical for those with medical issues. How a child is classified determines how much the state pays you and what options are available to you in caring for the kids). When I approached our caseworker, she chewed me out in front of the entire foster team as nothing but money hungry and threatened to take the kids away. I was stunned to say the least. We were very close to being able to finalize the adoption and being rid of our “wonderful” case-worker, so against the counselor’s recommendation, we dropped it.

Nine months after we took the children into our home, the adoption was finalized. At the age of 45, we became the parents of 6 children. I am now one of those “weird” people with a mess of children. Because our older set of children are out of the house, it still feels like we have 4 kiddos (one is still a foster placement). I still have a hard time spitting out that I am the mom of 6.

At the beach with 2 of our kiddos

Our 1st post adoption family portrait

Caught off Guard

As a mom of 6 and foster parent of 1, I should be prepared for almost anything. Lately though, I have found myself caught off guard a lot. Sometimes it’s silly things that catch me off guard; like our foster daughter, Ali, finding it necessary to wake me up at 3:00 am to tell me she had an itch.

Sometimes it is frustrating things. For example, now that the newness and cuteness of our children has worn off, our free babysitters have disappeared. I don’t know why I expected more support than we have gotten; but I did. We are the ones who adopted, no one owes anything, I just had unrealistic expectations that didn’t pan out too well.

Lately though, it has mostly been my own feelings that have thrown me for a loop. We have been foster parents for four years now and had more than 25 children through our home. I have been here before, but I am finding myself surprised again by my feelings.

I am surprised at the depth of feelings that I have for our non-biological children. I never had any doubt that we would love them as much as we did our biological children. But, it goes so much further than that. I guess I expected there to be a difference of some kind between our children and our children. I know I did because of how upset I get when I hear stories of how far people go and how much they spend getting treatment so that they can have children that are “theirs.” I know I would have felt the same way if we had been unable to conceive many years ago. Now I get so defensive when I hear the terminology because all 6 are our children.

I also know that the warm fuzzy feelings you should have for your children take a while to grow for foster children. When you fall in love with that special someone it starts out with simple attraction, maybe a little flirting. Then maybe you hang out together, have long phone conversations and get to know each other. If you are still attracted to each other, you may meet their family and share meals together. Over time you find yourself falling in love before you commit to each other and head down the isle to a permanent life together. The process is completely reversed when you take in an orphan. When the phone rings, you have a only few moments to think and pray before committing your life to a child. You have no idea what the outcome of that commitment may be. You are allowed to ask questions about their behavior and situation, but rarely is the person on the other end able to provide good answers. You commit to love a child and then in very short order they are dropped off to you. You won’t know each other at all. Both of you will have expectations, habits and standards that the other will not live up to. It’s uncomfortable but you are now committed to love them, even though they don’t love you and may treat poorly.

It will take months, a year or maybe even longer before the love that you give out become actual feelings for that child that last. You will ask yourself ridiculous questions from time to time to try and gauge how you are doing. You will have moments you want to give up and quit and you will have to remind yourself what it would do the child. Eventually the questions and fears fade and feeling grow. But it takes time and it’s harder than you expect it to be.

I am going through this now with Ali who has been with us for five months. She is by far the sweetest and easiest placement we have had in our home. She is bubbly, well behaved and delightful, but life was still simpler without her.

The thing that has caught me most off guard is how incredibly selfish I can be. I am shocked by my feelings of jealousy. We have tried to physically hug, hold Ali as much as she is comfortable with. As she has become more comfortable in our home and with us, she has become a very affectionate child.

Terry is an amazing daddy. He has done a wonderful job with her, allowing her to crawl up in his lap, holding her hand when we are walking in stores or into church. He treats her like she is our daughter. I love that about him. But, I still find myself having to fight my desire to find an excuse to break in between them. I am jealous both for “our” children and also for myself at times. It’s hard, but it is all as it should be.

Love that is worth having will never be free. It will always cost something. For us, this is not something we have done because we love children, although we do. It isn’t something we did because we couldn’t have children of our “own,” we have three besides those we adopted. This wasn’t a result of us losing our mind, although I feel like I have some days. We simply understand, at least in part the love God freely gave to us in adopting us. How can we refuse to do likewise when he asks.

Our three younger children and a friend

The Most Wonderful Season of All, NOT

I used to love the whole Christmas season.  As the song says, it was the most wonderful time of the year.  I loved the lights.  I loved the decorations.  I loved that people went out of their way to think of others first in finding that perfect gift.  I loved shopping.  I loved cooking for family and friends.  I loved the food.  I loved the hope of a white Christmas, even though it rarely happens here.  I loved having children in the house and their simple joy at nearly everything.  I loved the music.  I love the Christmas movies and television shows.  I loved decorating our home.  I loved having family and friends around and looking for people to include and share a little love and hope with.  Besides the maddening traffic and long lines, I loved everything about Christmas!

Then we adopted.  After taking in our 3 little munchkins, who were not quite 1, 2 and 3,  we were so excited about having kids the the house again for Christmas.  We still loved buying for our older children, ages 25, 22 and 18, but Christmas with small children is just magical.

You will learn more about our adoption journey and children later, but for now just know our little guys weren’t “normal.”  They were and remain some of the most adorable children God ever created.  They were unbelievably charming and cute, but under their beautiful little faces and smiles, resided one little monster, one unbelievably sad depressed girl and one crying blob.  They technically placed with us right before Christmas, although they were still going back and forth between our home and their previous placement in an effort to ease them into our family as permanent members. We were so excited, so in love and so very naive.

They have been with us now for almost 5 years. It took us 2 years to catch on to the issues we were dealing with, but every year when the fireworks tents come out and then again when Christmas decorations begin to appear in stores; our little monsters reappear. You see, even though our children were very young when they were placed with us,  we were their 5th home.  In addition to the other supposedly permanent homes, they were shuffled from one respite provider to another at every opportunity.  Their biological home was obviously not good because they were removed from it by our state.  Their first long-term foster placement lasted about a year and a half and was worse than the biological home.

It was easy to understand why they had “issues,”  but that didn’t make the issues any easier to deal with. The first year was a nightmare  and their behavior at our second Christmas together  didn’t catch us off guard because it was just a continuation of our new “normal.”

Things did slowly improve from there, very very slowly.  By our third Christmas, our children were far from “normal,” but they had made enough progress that we were definitely taken aback when we went backward with behavior.  They began to have tons of bathroom “accidents” again.  The oldest once again became the monster we thought we had loved away.  They lied about anything and everything.  Our daughter had continual meltdowns and rarely stopped crying for long.  The baby also cried  more, but did not regress as far as his siblings.

We were shocked.  At first we blamed it on our lifestyle.  I was mostly a stay at home mom who spent most of my time with our children.  But, we own a catering business.  Christmas is a crazy busy season.  I worked a lot more and they were in daycare a lot more durning the holiday season.  I am sure this did not help, but it wasn’t the root cause either.  The fun begins before I start my longer hours.  It also occured beginning in late June for six to eight weeks.

Somewhere in the midst of my whining to God, it dawned on me.  They were removed from their biological home and their second longest placement at Christmas.  They were removed from their biological home a second time and from their longest placement around the 4th of July.  By this time, they had no memory of any home but ours or any other parents besides us.  But, subconsciously there is a fear in them that affects their behavior tremendously during these seasons, even 5 years later.

When they are peeing and pooing in their pants, when they cry at the drop of a hat, when the oldest tries to sufficate a sibling and becomes outrageously controlling and mean,  it becomes very difficult to have the warm fuzzy feelings a parent should have for their children.  At times it is a struggle to like the eldest at all.  That is a very painful thing to admit, but it is true.  He hurts everyone in his path is not a very likable little guy at times.

But, when we are shopping and see a new mom with her baby standing in line gently rocking her baby and cooing at him trying to keep him happy, I know my son didn’t get that.  I know he wasn’t fed enough.  I know no one rocked him.  I know his diapers did not get changed frequently.  I know he spent his time on a filthy floor crying and no one responded.  I know our daughter was placed in a home that was forced to take her or lose her brother.  I know they did not want her and complained about taking her.  I know they abused her horribly.   I know they determined she was mentally challenged and treated her that way.  I know they did not respond to her and did not hold her, rock her or love her at all.  The baby had the most “normal” upbringing and we don’t know as much about how he was treated.  But I know one home he was in had many children and he spent his days mostly in his car seat, where he was given his bottles, played and slept.  He had a good foster home, but still it was his third and he still did not get the attention or love he needed.

At times my children make me crazy.  I genuinely do not enjoy the Christmas season much currently.  It’s miserable!  My children are awful.  I find myself wondering what possessed me to want to adopt, especially 3 bitty children.  Some days I think I can’t do it.  Some days,  I am surprised we all survive.  Then, my heart breaks for them and what they have missed.

We have come so far with them.  They genuinely are mostly “normal,” at least most of the time.  We actually get compliments on how well behaved they are sometimes.  That ladies and gentelmen, is a bonified miracle.  But the Christmas season, well that’s a different story; it’s awful, really really awful.

Christmas may be awful, but for me, it is also a great reminder of how far we’ve come.  God has done a miracle in our kiddos. It’s good for me to be reminded of what they’ve been through and all that was unjustly withheld from them.  I know this too shall pass.  I know I am living a miracle with our kids.  Christmas may not be the most wonderful time of the year for our family, but it is still a time of the miraculous.  God sent his son to a people who did not love him, to give them a new life, hope and a future.  I have the amazing opportunity to see this lived out on a daily basis. God asked us to give our three little munchkins a new life, hope and the opportunity of a future.  I can’t yet see what they will choose to do with that opportunity.  In a sense, we rescued them, but what they do with that life is still up to them.

You face two similar decisions.

The first question you face, is are you willing  give a child a new life, hope and a future.  Most adoptive parents don’t have as many issues as we have had.  But all children, like all people have issues and problems.  Children who are available for adoption, all have suffered loss and pain or they wouldn’t be available for adoption.  Many have stories that will not just break, but will crush your heart.  As awful as our kids past has been, it is actually fairly mild.   It may well be the most difficult thing you ever do.  You too may suffer through some horrible seasons, but think about what these kids suffer.  They are inconvenient.  They are a lot of work.  They will turn your world upside down.  But they need you.  Without people like you and I, they have no family, no one who really loves them, no hope, no real future.  You have the ability to change all of that.  Your can make a huge difference in their world and maybe the world in general by offering love and a home.

The second is the most important decision you will ever make.   God sent his son to rescue you and offer you a new life, hope and a future.  What you do with that gift is up to you.  You can choose to accept his gift and live for him, or you can reject the gift he gave and try to it on your own.

Our children may never understand completely what they were rescued from.  They won’t remember the squaller or abuse they lived through.  You too may not completely see your life for what it really is either, but God  has so much more for you.  I am not promising you an easy or prosperous life.  If you stick with  my blog, you will soon know our life has been anything but easy and prosperous.  But, I am never alone.  I always have hope and a joy that is simply not understandable given our circumstances. I have an amazing future ahead of me and a love that is indescribable.  I am forgiven and guilt free.

I am frustrated by my inability to accurately describe the gift Christ offers us, but I hope and pray that you are intrigued and will talk with someone at a local Bible-believing church near you.  I will be happy to help you in any way I can as well if you ask.  The most important person to talk to is Jesus.  Without any help from me or a local pastor, he can set you free and give you the abundant life you have searched for.  You just have to ask.

Soapbox

I know I just started blogging. In spite of only just having begun telling our story, today I am taking a break to talk about a huge pet peeve of mine.  

Since adopting our little crew three years ago, we have continued to be foster parents.  We never set out to be foster parents.  I still have a hard time spitting out that I am the mother of six, but I aml not sure that our family is complete, so we’ve kept our options open.   I am sure I will share more about it all in future posts, but right now we have a 7 year old little girl staying with us.  For now, I’ll call her Ali.  

Ali came to us in August.  In many ways she is very typical of many children in foster care.  No one knows the location of her dad.  The last time anyone knew where he was, it was because he was in the penal system.  Ali’s mom isn’t entirely typical.  She has been a good mom to Ali in many ways.  However, drugs control her life leading her to make other poor decisions. When Ali was removed from the home, Ali’s mom immediately signed herself into a rehab unit.  She stayed longer than required.  She attended more classes and took every extra step she could to get her daughter back.  She was getting more phone calls and more visits with Ali.  We were trying to include her as a member of our family and everything looked like Ali would soon be going home.  Ali’s mom had a tough road though.  All her family, all her friends did drugs.  It was all she had known for her entire life.  She did her best to avoid old friends.  She moved and tried to change her life, but old friends found her again.  Probably because she is a soft-hearted lady who has difficulty saying no, she let them back into her life and is back where she started, only worse.  She just looks and sounds like she has lost all hope.

Tomorrow Ali’s team meets to decide what is best for Ali.  They will cut off phone calls and shorten visits.  They will put more restrictions in place; trying to protect Ali.  All of this is appropriate, they should take every step possible to protect Ali.  She is a very sweet innocent little girl who needs protecting.  Here is my soapbox though.  While mom was doing well, in an effort to protect Ali, they have not involved extended family a lot.  They initially contacted grandparents, but they didn’t want to have to go through all the classes to be able to get custody of Ali.  They contacted other family, but haven’t moved too quickly in trying to get them ready to take Ali.  If Ali was going to go home, they didn’t want to have to put her through another move or another change in schools.  Now it’s all different.  Mom could still potentially get Ali back, but it will be a long tough road.  Now the team, by law has to give preference to family.  Paternal grandparents that Ali has had minimal contact with in her 7 years, whom didn’t want her  badly enough to go to a few classes,  will get preference.  An uncle (dad’s brother) who once helped the dad kidnap Ali  in an effort to get mom to get back together with him, will get preference.  Dad didn’t really want to take care of Ali, he quickly dumped her a few days later and hasn’t had contact with her since.  Dad, who has had multiple stays in the state penn and has not had contact with Ali for over a year and a half, could get preference in a more long term placement of Ali.  

I can not understand why DNA makes a stronger family.  My younger three children are every bit as much our children as the three born to us are.  God makes families, period, end of story.  It isn’t blood.  It isn’t even always adoption.  We have had teens who were in difficult situations stay with us.  Even though their stays were short, they were part of our family. DNA doesn’t always have anything to do with it.  

I am not advocating taking children from families where mom and/or dad are genuinely trying to get their lives together and who want to parent their children in favor of a family who may have better financial provision, or  two parent home over a single mom.    When possible, a child should go back home if that home is stable and safe.  But, why send a child to a family member they know even less than they know their foster family?  Why take them from a stable home where they are doing well to place them in a home with someone else who may or may not work out, just because they share a little DNA?  

The government and our society in general have a false idea that DNA makes a family stronger and better.  No one means any harm by holding these beliefs.  Even though I always wanted to adopt, at one time, I would have said things like I want to have children of my own.  What I, like others failed to understand or maybe failed to believe is the simple truth.  Family doesn’t have to have anything to do with DNA.  

The problem with with this misconception is that is cheapens what we have done in adopting. We can’t ever be as good as their “real” family no matter how great a job we do as parents.  It leaves those who were adopted feeling like they somehow got second best.  It makes them feel like they can’t be whole without connecting with their “real” family, even if that “real” family is not healthy.  

Real families are the families who play together, eat together, pray together, who love, protect and defend each other.  DNA doesn’t make a real family and it makes me insane that DNA determines placement in cases where it just shouldn’t matter.  I am reluctant to admit that although this has bothered a little for awhile, it didn’t really matter as much as it should until it became a person and had a name.  Her name is Ali.  

I, on the other hand, have no options.  I can do nothing to protect her.  I can do nothing to keep her.  I know just enough about her family that the idea of losing her to them, terrifies me.  We weren’t currently looking to adopt again.  We hoped Ali and her mom would be reunited. If that can’t happen, we would be willing to adopt her.  If there were a healthy loving family member with whom Ali had a good relationship, I’d me sad when she left, but I could let her go; but not like  this.  If they chose to move her, I can do nothing to keep her from feeling like we abandoned her.  I will not be able to convince her she has done nothing wrong.   This attitude will also impact our children as they grow and are forced to face it.  I hate that I can’t protect my kids from this.  It’s everywhere, but when it has a face it becomes a much bigger deal.  I am sorry I didn’t understand before, I hope maybe reading this might help you understand and care a little more. 

Honesty

I have no idea where to start, how to start, what to say, how much to say.  I am not really even sure what the point of this is.  In spite of that, I feel like this is something I need to do. I’ve been putting it off for a long time because it’s just too overwhelming.  I have been afraid I’d be more depressing and discouraging than encouraging.   How is that for an inspiring reason to follow my blog?

More than four years after we started down this road with our children, I still ask myself regularly what on earth possessed me to do it.  The truth is, nothing on earth possessed me to do it.  It was heaven inspired;  but the adventure has been far from heavenly.  Life after adopting has been more chaotic, more  difficult and more wonderful than we could have ever imagined.  It has taken us places I never wanted to go.  It has turned our lives upside down and inside out and I hope in spite of that, I hope to somehow inspire you to do the same thing.  Come back and laugh with me, cry with me and pray with me.