Adoptive parents, and adult adoptees alike... who have gone decades before us console us with the "normalness" of our adult adoptees behaviors.

When you take a minute and consider... It really does seem constant and natural...

...that those who had no say ...

...as their personal definition of family was changed... 

...EACH time social services stepped in...

...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...  (19 "agains" are in honor of our adopted daughter's bio-parents, the 17 failed/foster/adoptive sets of parents before us, and us... her 19th set of parents who were blessed with her and her half biological siblings from different paths just about a week before that little girl turned six years old)

...whether social services intervened 

to rescue the child

 from their biological family's

 inability to keep the small child

 safe from abuses

no child should have to endure...

...or... 

...to rescue foster/adoptive parents

 from child originated abuses

 no parent should have to endure...

When these kids (whose core-reality-based definition of "Family" has been botched so many times in a child's lifetime) become adults... it is normal, constant and natural for them THROUGHOUT THEIR LIVES, to re-define and re-define who is REALLY and not really their REAL family...

Just Giving Them the Love You Don't

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

20 Years Later Social Experiement 1995

Wow... 20 years of adoption.

Update.... SHE's BAAAACK....

Our 5.5 years estranged daughter began dating a man who ALSO has a one year old daughter, just like the grandchild we'd never met... sooo cool right???

Well, it turned out he attends our church... and our adopted daughter being the girl who wears masks to please whomever she's with, texted us mid-service asking if we'd like to meet our grandchild.

Our daughter was somewhere in our mega-congregation looking right at us.

yay.


About 10 months ago we'd gotten to meet our adopted daughter's daughter... she's cute like her momma. 

Since then, we've gotten together with our daughter about a handful times, had the privilege of treating a couple meals for our daughter and her daughter and her (then) boyfriend... and his daughter... and his daughter's half brother that is not his son.  Many meals we've sat politely smiling through her jabs, about our "abusive" writing assignments that has helped her to ultimately do quite well in her chosen profession... while the boyfriend defended our (awesome) parenting techniques.

We're grateful for progress... most days.

About 10 months have gone by since the "first" meeting... It is quite evident that RAD continues...

Adopted-daughter's-daughter's 2nd birthday happened... without us.  I wonder how old she will be when/if we get to celebrate her first birthday with us?

Turns out adopted-daugther now hates "the savior mommy" who initially "rescued" her from us almost six years ago.... and has in the interim selected yet another "new-mommy" and "new-daddy"

Not long ago they just buried the "new-daddy" our Adopted-daughter's-daughter's "pop-pop." 

My husband's heart aches... "Pop-pop" is his title for 'OUR GRANDKIDS"... Yet it's emblazoned all over social media "in memory" of our adopted daughter's drinking buddy's "Danny" (the drinking buddy's step-dad... poor guy... the female child he "daddy"'d never would call him "Dad.")  Who knows what our adopted-daughter called him... but as evidenced through social media crapola ...the recently-deceased-"Danny" got to know the joys of grandfather-hood via our adopted-daughter's-daughter.I understand why "that family" is so attractive to our adopted daughter... familiarity.  That "new mommy" herself I'm told lost her privilege of raising her own daughter (our daughter's drinking buddy).  Around the time we met that family when the girl was about 13 she had just been returned to "mother's care" under close supervision by the grandparents who seemed to frequently threaten to take the kid back. 

Adopted-daughter is doing well in her profession... She promised to let us know when she finds out about date for awards dinner... well... guess who is featured in "of the year" awards photos... her New-mommy number 21... (let's see... if I at adoption was "mommy number 19"... that would make her 21... and counting probably... right?) 

Oh yeah, but wait...  Hubby and I REALLY ARE mommy and daddy according to "The Forever Family Social Experiment" documents... right?????

We're real mommy and daddy?

Or is bio-mommy and bio-daddies?

How about all the the 17 foster/failed adoption placements before us... how real are they???  

Hubby and I keep consoling ourselves with 

"This isn't personal, it's not her fault, but it's not ours either."

We've found ALL we've been experiencing is SO VERY COMMON to adult adoptees who also have our adopted daughter's diagnosis of Reactive Attachment Disorder.

So... for the past 20 years our family has been unwittingly part of a social experiment...

I had never needed to signify our adopted daughter as our "adopted daughter" until as an adult she began crying abuse and "playing baby" to whomever would take her in after us.

Yeah, I'm not a fan of this social experiment.

20 years ago the social worker explained to us "It used to be rare circumstances would lead to involuntary termination of parental rights, but we've found these kids get raised in the foster system only to return to and perpetuate their parent's dysfunction.  Nowadays they TPR so the kids can have a chance for a different life than their family of origin could provide."

Well, they have a different life... kinda almost... both our RADs are serving in honorable professions... yay.  Mission accomplished????

On this side of it... 20 years in... I seriously question the ethics of adopting children whose parents are still living.

I don't question giving kids a safe home where they can be nurtured and grow... but I think for our adoptees... Foster could do... should do.

I think it is unethical for agencies to promote the lies of "forever family" to generous kind hearted families that have good lives and want to share their family and all it's blessings with underprivileged poorly-parented children who come from horrendously dangerous environments.

Did "our" adopted kids need a safer environment than they started out with????   Absolutely!!!!!!!!

Did they each need to have their three quite different last names changed to their bio-mom's last name as "the system" yanked them from the very-different homes they had lived in, so at TPR they could be promoted and ultimately placed as a "sibling group for adoption" under the lies of "The Forever Family Social Experiment"???? 

Absolutely not.

I'm happy/proud that our adopted daughter is being honored in her profession...

I'd still be proud, it would bother me so much less had she "just" been a foster child for all the crap she throws, that follows the pattern SO MANY adopted adults who have started with numerous caregivers... in foster-systems/orphanages.

It would bother me so much less for all the crap that has happened... and for all the crap that appears to continue to flow.

Excuse me... I feel nauseous.  

Proverbs 13:12Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

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.

Catching Up With an Old Friend

My hubby loves to fiddle with computers.  He considered making a business of it, but could never bring himself to charge much more than the part itself.  I encouraged him to do the work as a ministry to others... charging only for what he might need to lay out for a part he doesn't have.  He LOVES helping others... and he loves fiddling with computers... perfect match.

A friend I keep up with, sent a mutual friend I've not seen nor heard from in YEARS our way to see if DH could help solve computer woes.

The call came through me... and me and my friend from long ago got to "catch up."

This old friend knew me from "pre-adoption" days.   She knew me quite well through the "hoping to adopt soon" days.  We lost contact in the "gee adopting these kids requires so much more of my attention than I imagined, but I'm glad to give them what they need" stage.

In some ways it seems like only yesterday we were spending quality time together, in other ways it seems like ten lifetimes ago.  It was good to "catch up."

I noticed something as I was updating my friend on what's going on since we last spoke... my perspective of this ordeal is less focused on my pain.

 I kept emphasizing despite how very painful the RADtypical behaviors are for my husband daughter and me; we, the family scorned, we are certain our estranged adoptees must be hurting to extremes we simply can not imagine.


  

Our Daughter's First Sign of Attachment

The first time I ever saw our new daughter express genuine concern for our family, my heart was overwhelmed. 

Up until that day, most of the time our daughter walked around like a robot, and hugged like an ironing board, but as soon the social worker's car pulled up the driveway, our newest daughter would snuggle up to Daddy in a way that was far too "mature" and far to inappropriate for a little girl.  She'd giggle in in an saccharin sweet voice "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh Daddy.... tee hee hee!  You're soooooo funny!" while running her little fingers along his hair neck and shoulders. 

She'd stay in that spot until the social worker's car left the driveway.   Then she'd blankly-robotically go back to her room... and resumed her "ignoring" us behavior. 

I read it as "PLEASE SOCIAL WORKER DON'T MOVE ME AGAIN!"  

And I immediately notified the social worker that we ONLY saw that behavior when her car was in our driveway... we let her know it disappeared as quickly as it came. 

I think I've written about this before here... not sure if I ever posted it. 

The memories of who our kids were when we first met them, who they became as part of our family, who they became at the "age appropriate season of detachment as young adults" haunt me. 

Some memories haunt me more than others. 

The "attachment sign" memory is one that I don't mind popping up from time to time.  It continues to give me much hope.

Before we had a cellphone... hubby was stuck on the side of the highway with minor car trouble he felt he could fix if he could get his tools.  A good Samaritan stopped and loaned a phone for him to call me to come with tools. 

I piled the kids in the mommymobile (read minivan) and off we went. 

We had to pass hubby on the highway, exit, turn around and reenter to get to him on the other side. 

We spotted him.  Stuck on the other side. 

Our newest daughter began SOBBING.  She hated that he was stranded... and that cars were driving by... and that we had to drive by too. 

My heart breaks each time I remember the depths of her grieving her new daddy's lot. 

Those feelings were raw.  And REAL.  And CARING. 

This child who for as long as we'd known her SEEMED so indifferent to us all... really cared for him... for us.

I miss my caring daughter.  I believe she is out there... but the triggers of becoming a young adult... surrounded by "friends" tickling her ears about her "rights" as a young adult and "friends" my age who delight in poisoning her mind against us... because then she "needs" them.

Our daughter is out there wandering the junkyard of life out there in robot land... Officer RAD... big and tough... and ready to "take on the world."

She's heavily armored... She's been injured most by the "friends" trying to help her.  She's using everything she's got to protect the little girl we love... and miss.

Trying to Love My Enemies

Yeah.

Today I saw the family that's been running away from us in public places... we've been praying for them... really. 

Their crap hurts.

As often as their crap hurts us, we pray for them. 

It's obvious they don't have love to offer... and that alone is enough reason for me to pray for them.

Today I called the matriarch by name, she covered her face with her bible, pretending to be reading as she was walking,  I called her name again, she looked up... I told her we've been praying for you and the family.  We have, as a matter of fact I was praying for their family by name on the way to church because we often see their adult son there.  We've never seen the whole family there.

Today I saw a man who used to lead the homeschool sports stuff we brought our kids to.  I was told our "officer RAD" estranged three years responded to a call... "Hey, I saw your daughter not too long ago..." 

Normally I tell people if you see officer RAD... tell her her mommy and daddy love her very much. 



Today... mommy is tired of the bullshit. 

Today mommy would like to imagine life without the ongoing trauma traumatized kids have brought to our lives.   3 years and counting.  God help me.  Please.

So today I was daydreaming about requiring our adult adoptees to give back our name.

Yay...trying to love my enemies...

Matthew 5:43-48 Love for Enemies

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,  that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?  Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

"Forever Family"

Once upon a time my husband and I dreamed of adoption... all my adoption related dreams were all so-very-happy.

My husband and I were thrilled when our adoption dreams came true!  Sure!!! The early years were difficult!!!  There was a diagnosis in 1995 for our brand new daughter... "Reactive Attachment Disorder with Hypervigilance."  (16 years later and I still almost never find others using the specific wording our 6 year old's psychiatrist MD used to label our new daughter's mental illness...) 
The first three years were CHALLENGING to say the very least, but we were young and so-very-optimistic... and things in our family... in our home became so very beautiful!!!

We had a minimum of 10 beautiful years before the most severe living nightmares began... 

These days I go to sleep... 

I have nightmares 

about our once-upon-a-time

"dream children"...

I wake up... 

the real-life nightmares continues. 

I had nightmares again last night... all dream-sequence-absurdities that so very clearly sum up the real-life nightmare we have been living in the years since our RAD's started approaching "legal adulthood." 

I grieve... such tremendous grief!!!

It is so absurd... because...

I am grieving the living!!!!

I buried the ONLY earthly father I have ever had this year.

.

The ONLY  mother I have ever had is now his widow.

 .

Both are my biological parents.

.

My six biological siblings and I were raised by both of them, together.

.

 Had Dad lived a few more months...

Mom and Dad would have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this month. 

                                                           

Dad and I have always had a reciprocal loving relationship.

What a wonderful thing it is 

to be confident in love! 

Dad and I 
have always been 
part of 
a    REAL  
"Forever Family."

In Dad's "last years" our bio-daughter frequently commented with admiration how my Dad was loved and respected by MANY ...and looked up to as a "father figure" to so many fatherless individuals.

 ***

Certainly there is pain and grief regarding loss of my beloved "Daddio" here on earth!

                                                           

Yet,

the pain related to my father's death

is not nearly as 

deep
and as  

cutting

as the depth

of  

pain

and  

grief

related to our adult RADs' "RAD-typical" rejection of us.

"They" 

(adoption promoters) 

PROMISED us 

and our "new" kids that

we would be  

"Forever Family."

My definition of "Family" is directly related to my experiences.  

My kids draw their definition of  "Family" from their experiences. 

I believe one of our biggest problems

in our relationship with our adult adoptees is  

we've had different experiences.

I can't imagine going through life without the foundation of my Mom ALWAYS being my Mom... and my Dad ALWAYS being my Dad. 

I never had my parent's friends... "friends of the family" attempt at ANY LEVEL to "save me" from my biological parents... not from the chores they assigned, nor from the loving and healthy rules they had established for me.  No couple ever offered to become my "new mommy and daddy" once I was over 18.  (not before I was 18 either... not ever!)

We prayerfully hope one-day our RADaffected adoptees will be able to have loving reciprocal relationships.

And while we wait... 

my husband, bio-daughter, and I 

remain heartsick!!!!!!!!!!!!

 .

.

.

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
      But when the desire comes, it is a tree of life."

-Proverbs 13:12