Putting My Dreams on Temporary Hold

The adoption process is almost guaranteed to be frustrating, but sometimes it can be downright heartbreaking. There are families who dream of adopting and put their heart and soul into the process only to have their home study rejected for various, sometimes uncontrollable reasons. There are families who Foster to Adopt and although they expect the possibility that the child won’t remain with them, end up heartbroken anyway. Then there are those families who wait for what seems like forever before they find a match; the process for them is excruciating, never knowing at what moment their lives will change forever.

Adoption can be trying for everyone, and that’s why I’ve tried so hard to stay positive since losing my job last year and putting my adoption plans “on hold”, but I’ve not always been successful in remaining optimistic. Adoption is something I’m very passionate about, and it hasn’t been easy to talk about it, to visit my friends with kids or to focus on my volunteer work with FACES. There have been periods where I’ve had to block it out completely because it made me sad to even think about. I’ve had to shift focus to my other responsibilities and ambitions. I’ve spent more time reading and writing and hanging out with my family, which has actually been incredibly good for the soul.

Despite how difficult the last few months have been emotionally, I am still looking forward to getting back on track with my adoption plans very soon, and also allowing myself to take a break from it all in the meantime.

Posted by: Sarah

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“Mom, I’m in the Principal’s office.”

“Mom, I’m in the Principal’s office.”

This is how our week started.

The week continued with our quirky comedian tying a child to a tree and leaving him there, getting into several fights at school, puking up his breakfast on the table because he didn’t like the food and bouncing on his mattress so hard, wooden slats underneath broke through.  Our feisty butterfly has been screaming all day, every day for the last 10 days, except for taking the time to bathe herself in toilet bowl cleaner, pick holes in her clothes and create artwork on her wall with spit and blood from a nosebleed.  Our sensitive diva has decided that she no longer needs to sleep, do homework or brush her hair and has perfected stomping up and down the stairs to the tune of ‘I hate you’, returning only to let me know that I have made her scratch herself because I am so mean.  It has been a truly tough and terrifying week.

Through the adventures of the week though, we have seen some incredible things.

One afternoon after an impressive rage, my son was curled up on his bed, wrapped in blankets and we talked.  We talked about all the things he has been terrified to say out loud.  We talked about how a substitute teacher yelled at him.  How he didn’t know the substitute teacher and he didn’t know that his regular teacher wouldn’t be there that day.  We talked about how much it upset him, and how worried he was because he wasn’t sure what to expect from this new person.  He talked about how he didn’t understand why she had yelled at him, and that all the kids stared at him because she yelled.  We talked about how angry and scared that had made him feel.  He helped me understand that this happened on the same day that he decided to tie another child to a tree and wanted to fight the other kids on the playground.  The trauma in my son’s life has surfaced again…

My son also talked about his fears of moving into a new grade, with a new teacher.  My quirky little comedian starts every day ready to earn a smiley face from school to show me at home.  This smiley face means that he worked hard at school that day and used his amazing little heart in how he treated the kids and teachers around him.  As he’s explaining to me that he will be too old next year to earn that smiley face, he is wrapping himself tighter into his blankets, trembling, and trying to hide that he’s crying even as he is sobbing too hard to catch his breath.  My heart was breaking for him.  I could feel him melt into a hug, and then lean back and look at me like a huge weight had been lifted from him.  He has been a different kid since that conversation.

Our feisty little butterfly and I discovered something new this week.  As she is busy screaming, shrieking and howling, she will pause to hear what I have to say – as long as I’m not actually talking to her.  I played “I wonder”.  I started talking to myself, in a voice just barely loud enough for her to hear.  I “wondered” if she knew how much I missed her giggles.  I “wondered” if she knew how much I was looking forward to a big squishy hug.  I “wondered” if maybe she was feeling sad and lonely.  I “wondered” if she had forgotten how special and loved she is.  I “wondered” if maybe she was too angry right now to think about anything else.  I “wondered” for about half an hour, and she listened to every word.  She would hold herself tight and cry softly when I talked about being scared or sad.  She would turn her head to the sound of my voice when I mentioned the things I love most about her.  She would wait patiently to hear what I would say next, her little body leaning forward to make sure she didn’t miss anything.  It was amazing.

After I had run through all the things I could think of, I called to her and asked if she was ready to go back to her previous activity.  She hopped up, smiled brightly and asked who I was talking to earlier.  I told her that I was playing a game on my own, and asked if she had heard anything.  She looked at me very seriously, and told me that she didn’t hear a single thing.  Two minutes later, she worked up a big giggle and then told me that she thought maybe I might have been missing her giggles…  🙂  Things have turned around completely for us since then!

Our sensitive diva has been struggling lately.  Really struggling.  Every conversation turns into a battle.  Every request is a fight.  Every chore that she swears is complete, has been shoved into a corner.  After our most recent encounter with chores, I had left her in her room to complete the task she swore she had already done.  Once the door was closed, the name-calling and screaming began.  I walked back in the room, sat down on the floor and said that it sounded like there were some things that she would like to tell me.  I didn’t realize it then, but that was an incredible understatement…

We talked about the names she would like to call me, the words that she thought that if said, the police would come and take her away.  We talked about how she would like to hurt me, and hurt herself.  We talked about the bad dreams – that one night robbers were going to come into our house, ask me where the kids are and then take them away.  We talked about her friend’s family, dealing with divorce.  And then we talked about her birth family.  Her special memories of them, her scary memories, the fear she has because she’s forgetting them.  We talked about how hard it is to say goodbye.  We talked about ways to connect with her birth family.  We talked about writing a memory book so she could keep them close to her.  We talked about anger, sadness, loss and love.  She sat, curled in my lap and holding my arms tightly around her and sobbed.  My beautiful sensitive little diva has been keeping so many things inside.  With Mother’s Day arriving this weekend, my sensitive daughter has helped me realize what a special place in my heart her birth mom has too…  Even though I don’t know her, she is very much a part of my daughter, and for that, I’m grateful.

It’s been an amazing week.  It’s been a heartbreaking week.  It’s been a week that my beautiful, fragile and resilient children let their guards down enough to let me in, a little closer than ever before.  I am so thankful for that.  I can’t imagine a better gift than getting to love them, and to walk this part of their journey with them…  That being said, I’m looking forward to a boring, routine kind of week, next week!  🙂

Happy Mother’s Day to all the Moms out there!  I’m thinking of you all.

 Posted by: Cara