Out of the Blue She Brings Up Adoption

Can you believe there are friends who don't know we've adopted?  

Man.

For a while there it seemed the "common issues" of adopting traumatized children out of fostercare would forever be all consuming.

Life does go on.

I was chatting with a friend recently.

Innocently she brought up how a newly adopted child she knew was FLOURISHING in the new family... how she hoped the child appreciates all the sacrifices this kind hearted family has made to positively impact this young life pulled out of a dung heap.

I got misty-eyed.  Not at all a big ugly cry kind of thing.  Just misty.

My friend asked if I was okay.  Had she offended me?  If I ever need to talk... Etc.

I told her my heart breaks for that family.  I told her it turns out there's many adoption related issues that arise when children are adopted out of trauma. Yes, indeed the child's life has been positively impacted.  Yes the child needed to be taken out of the dung heap.  Yes indeed the new family's sacrifices are worthwhile and making a remarkably tremendous positive impact in the child's previously traumatic life... But unfortunately it's quite likely the child will grow up to despise the family that will lavish love health and healing in that child's direction for the rest of their days.

My friend looked at me with a puzzled expression.

You know we adopted a special needs sibling group... Right?  

She honestly had no idea.

I explained our adoptees' "special needs" are mostly psychological resulting from their traumatic origin.  All adults now.  All doing far better in adulthood than their family of origin... Well... All Except for one...   It's a long story.

Sorry, yes, I do agree the child is flourishing. That family is really blessing that child.

Just Giving Them the Love You Don't

Can you not see, that with your good intentions, you are actually hurting our children?!

Many Have Traveled This Path Long Before Me

Hubby and I were enjoying an anniversary cruise to exotic locations.  Dinners were at a set time with the same delightful couples.  Breakfasts and lunches were "open seating."

During a delightful lunchtime "chance" seating... Dear Hubby and I joined two other couples.  One couple was chronologically about 10 years behind us... and the other couple about 30 years ahead of us.  The older couple started to say how they were celebrating an anniversary that actually occurred the month prior, but preferred to celebrate it while children were in school.  They said September is a great time to sail, because most kids are in school... except homeschoolers!

I laughed and agreed, then confessed we were one of those "homeschool families."

I started to say something along the lines of "when we found out what they were and weren't teaching in school... we pulled them out..."  But stopped myself mid sentence because while that is why many choose to homeschool, it was not why we homeschooled.

Darn!  I didn't want to talk kids... talk RAD... again.  Not here, not now... not in the middle of this gorgeous dining room, on this gorgeous day with delightful people cruising in the middle of the sparkling cerulean sea.  When will the pain of this journey of adoption be over?

I corrected myself and said, "actually..." years ago we adopted a special needs sibling group who were very troubled.  Our daughter had 17 families before us when we got her at almost 6 years old.  Homeschooling helped her... tremendously... but sadly the process of becoming an adult reawakened many of her and her half biological brother's abandonment issues.  They've been estranged from us for 4 years now...it's heartbreaking... "but what can anyone do, except pray for the best for them"

The older gentleman to my right said... I know exactly what you're talking about.  He patted my arm and assured me that me and my husband gave our kids what they needed... and that is what is important.

He shared how he and his wife had five beautiful girls when a commercial on tv encouraged viewers to become foster parents because there was such a tremendous need.   The couple made a call and became foster parents to a young baby.... had him for 2.5-3 years and were able to adopt him.  This man kept talking about his youngest daughter (in past tense form) and shaking his head... and referring to the fact that of his six kids, he and his wife only had three "remaining"... (he didn't specify... and seemed like he felt he was already talking too much about it... but it sounded like at least one of his kids had been "lost" through estrangement... like there was a grave price for the biokids to pay because the adopted child required so much of their time and energy and attention, he kept inferring that his biological children suffered... greatly.)

As this adoption veteran, who served so many years before us, was patting my arm and consoling me... he seemed to take comfort in his own words...

We've given these destitute kids what they needed when they were small.
That is what is important...
...and it hasn't gone unnoticed. 

4th Anniversary of Their Conjoined Meltdown

Today, I'm giving myself permission to grieve if I need to.  Today is THE official date that first comes to mind every time I think about "scheduling" grief so it won't consume my life.  Other dates "of significance" are slated, but they don't stand out as THE day.  Today is THE day.
 
Today marks the 4th anniversary of our adoptees' conjoined meltdown. (Which makes 10 years in total that we never knew our adoptive daughter, 6.5 years we never knew our adoptive son.)

Today just happens to also be the day our oldest, who flew down to celebrate our birthdays, is flying home.

I'd marked the calendar to grieve if I wanted to...

Hopping out of bed to drop our sweet daughter at the airport so very early, it was so very easy to grab the simple "mourning" outfit I'd selected so long ago for this "special" date...

Daughter commented how pretty I looked in my easy breezy black floor-length dress.  Pretty wasn't what I was going for, she didn't have to know that.  On the drive in to the airport, daughter, hubby and I talked about today's "anniversary" and hubby and I encouraged her that it's okay to grieve if she needs to... no pressure.  She thought it was weird and preferred to forget the date not remember it.  We explained it was a counselor's suggestion to acknowledge grief, and schedule it so we can readily and really enjoy other dates without grief over taking us. 

Anyway we said a quick goodbye at the airport with awesome hugs and had to hurry home for hubby to start work on time.

Today I'd planned to light my candle if I need to, so far I'm not feeling the need.  I'm probably more tired than anything.  When our daughter is in town late nights and fun running around keeps us a tad sleep deprived.

The fact that August 1 happens to be "National Girlfriends Day" it REALLY helps me feel grateful and encouraged!!!!!  I heard about "National Girlfriends Day" for the very first time yesterday on TV.  I'm so very grateful to have so very many truly beautiful life long friendships!  I'm also so very grateful there is also this on-line blogging sisterhood of parenting RAD that has allowed me to meet, talk with, email, text etc... etc... etc.... so very many awesome women I've met through sharing my experiences in parenting RAD.  These newest "girlfriends" who have also devoted their hearts to welcoming traumatized children into their families, seem to be living our parallel universe.  I'm so very grateful for the friendships that have developed seemingly out of the rubble left behind when RAD attacks.

Today, is earmarked for grief... but I'm not yet feeling it... I've given myself permission to grieve all day if need be, but honestly, right now... I'm more grateful than grief filled.  Each moment that passes it  seems I accept a little more the fact we invited them to be part of our "forever family" but their concept of "family" and forever has been marred courtesy of their birth family and the system that poisoned their minds.  Their experiences long before we ever knew them told them again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again that forever, and family never lasts.

It's not their fault.  It's not ours either.

Peace.

The Birthday Call

So, on hubby's birthday, our loving attached and healthy-through-no-fault-of-her-own was on the phone wishing The Best Daddy in the World a Happy Birthday, before she flies in to see us... and his cell phone rings.

When mentally ill-through-no-fault-of-their-own adult children are estranged... phone calls, texts, emails, mailboxes are the places you hope they'll one-day-some-day-especially-on-special-days send a little love.

Hubby excuses himself from our devoted daughter's call and hands her over to me... and I overhear... on his cellphone half a conversation full of... awkwardness.... I'm finding it hard to attend to the delightfully-attentive child... well because... it's another day of significance... and there's a call... and it's awkward.

I promise our darling that I love her, will call her back, am eager to see her when she'll fly in later the same day... "bye sweetie!"

I had to know what was going on... who was on the phone????????  What had rustled my sweet love on his birthday????

Well... sweet little officer RAD sick-and-spiraling-downward-through-no-fault-of-her-own can't pay her student loans... (that we've cosigned....away from school... and she's postponed and compounded her student debt since....)the bank wants to know how they can get a hold of her.

Nothing says "I'm thinking of you on your birthday, I'm grateful for you, I'm glad you're my Dad" like having your RADchild's delinquent student loan collections rep calling to find if we've got "better" contact with her than they do.

I really have the best husband in the world.  He is a prince! He's loving, and generous and selfless, and devoted. And sooooooo very forgiving of the pain they continue to inflict.  Despite how the crap continues to fly, he prays diligently for all our kids, and our estranged-through-no-fault-of-her-own grandchild we've never met... yet... he prays for us all... morning, noon and night.
 

Don't Let Grief Steal Your Days

Today is a day of significance for our family... courtesy of adoption... and so today, for a little while... I'm allowing myself to grieve what Reactive Attachment Disorder continues to steal, from our adopted kids, and our family.

It is fast approaching 4 years after our adoptees' RADtypical meltdown and attack against us.  This year our "Adoption Day" anniversary had passed more than a month before I realized it had come, and gone.   I kind of consider that progress.  I kind of am surprised.  I had always treasured that date... the date of the beginning of our dreams come true.  That date, after RAD attacked, became a source of pain... and this year, it passed without anticipation, or remembrance.  It just passed...  We were busy, and having fun... and honestly didn't notice.  It wasn't an active effort to try and forget the date... I actually intended to honor that date.  It simply passed, unnoticed.

Quite a while ago, Hubby and I had a counselor suggest we schedule dates and times to grieve, so our adoption grief could be honored and expressed without robbing us of the pleasures available to us in every day life.

I was very surprised when my first "appointed day" for grieving arrived and I didn't "feel like" mourning... I was having too much fun.  Our counselor explained that was the point... "If the day arrives, and you don't feel like grieving, you don't have to..."  It seemed like her point was to not let grief steal our days.


Back when "scheduled grief" was prescribed... I giggled (a lot) as I envisioned how I might grieve who our living children had become.  I imagined myself dressed in black with a shawl and a hankie... mourning.

The days where overwhelming sadness would flatten me, I'd tell myself, this isn't the day nor time to mourn, but I will, at the appropriate time... then I'd begin imagining what that would look like... and start giggling again.

During my planning grief gigglefests decided I'd someday "light a candle" when the time to grieve arose.  I was raised in a denomination where one could put coins in a box and pay to "light a candle" for prayer intentions.  I remember my mom tearfully lighting candles for her prayer intentions, as we'd visit older churches that still had the red-glass votives.  As I got older, the candles became electric push button and the price to ignite was listed in dollars... I'd always found the concept that a paid candle would pray for me to be a bit weird, but when I envisioned what grief should look like... those candles were part of  the picture... even though they make me giggle.  

That same year for Christmas I got an OLD brass and red glass votive from a friend who had a knack for finding treasures and glitzing them up to make holiday gifts for friends who are dear to her.  Perfect!!!  Not perfect for my decorating style... not even my holiday decorating... but perfect as my grief candle.  I removed the holiday embellishments and set it up for our kids. 

I've placed the candle on my front entry table as a reminder when grief comes, there is a time to grieve, and when the time comes I'll do so... if I feel like it.  And I smile.

Today is the anniversary of a day of significance regarding our adoption... a formerly celebratory day, but a day I'd set to grieve if need be.  Today grief fits, not for the full day... It's a day my hubby and I have decided to celebrate with or without our beloved adoptees.

... And we WILL celebrate today...

                       but for this morning... 

for this mourning... 

I've lit a candle.