Prayers Please

Sometimes real life is just hard.

My grandma is back in the hospital. We love her so much. We miss her even more. She needs to be back in BC with her family, yet for many complicated reasons, she's isn't. It's not our choice. And now she is sick, and we are not there. I hate this. I hate feeling so helpless. And I love my Nan more than you can imagine. I need her even more.

A life long friend is sitting by the bedside of her mother who is dying of lieukemia. I am far to far away.

Another life long friend is sufferring from Lyme in a way that is robbing her and her family of so, so much.

Two people I care about dearly are about to have babies.

I miss my friends. My family. I want to multiply myself to be where I am needed.

And I live in the middle of nowhere. Far, far away.

Reunion Thoughts: Supporting the One Who Chooses Not To

EDITED: Eric has asked that I remove "needy" from the list of descriptors. Eric says he is NOT needy, he just likes things a certain way and chooses things to be THAT way.

Eric.

Feisty.
Emotional.
Sensitive.
Wounded.
Stubborn.
Determined.
Needy.
Complicated.
Loved.
Cherished.
Adored.

No one could ever convince me there is one standard response children come up with to a complicated life history including abuse, foster care, adoption, and trans racial parents.

Why you ask? Because I have two children who have faced every experience in their short lives with completely different outlooks.

Two children with the exact same genetics. The exact same life experiences. The exact same pre-natal care. The exact same parents, 3 times over. And exact opposite personalities.

From day one, their view of the world has been very different. Eric lived with his first parents, his biological parents, for a much shorter length of time than Greg (4 months vs. 19 months) yet the effects of abuse on him, his psyche, his personality were far deeper. His Post Traumatic Stress Disorder diagnosis carried over with him through his toddler years and into the early elementary experience.

Eric's goal in life was to protect himself from any further pain by controlling the environment around him. Earning Eric's trust and respect is still a challenge. Those who know Eric in real life could tell you that it can take YEARS before he relaxes enough to show you his real self. He has no problem challenging the authority of those he doesn't respect and never automatically gives control over his behavior to someone just because he "should".

Eric is not an easy child to parent.
I can already hear the comments and laughter from those that know us. This, my dear Internet friends, (those left anyways) is the understatement of the year.


Eric challenges every boundary there is to make sure it's still there. He needs routine, clear expectations and quick consequences for crossing the line just to feel safe. He needs ME to be a strong and effective parent in a way none of my other children do.

His physical behaviors can be challenging, frustrating, ever changing and at times, mind blowingly obnoxious. And that's the easy part.

Eric's emotional needs run deep. There is one person in the world Eric has truly let in. Its me.

It took alot of work. It TAKES alot of work. The weight of this responsibility is enormous. Its rewarding in a way you cannot even fathom unless you have faced these challenges with a child yourself, and its exhausting in a way that only other mothers of similar kids could ever understand.
Eric has made me a better mother and a better person. We are so intricately tied together that my emotional health directly affects his emotional health still today. If I am out of sync, Eric is out of sync. If I have a bad day, Eric has a bad day. We are close. Very, very close because Eric needs us to be in order to grow and heal and become the Man God intended him to be. And I love that little boy so very much. We have both earned, through intense, laborious work, the relationship we have today. And there is much, much work still to come.

But I digress, because the story of how Eric views his adoption and life history started long ago.

When he first transitioned into our home at the age of 3.5 Eric acted as if he was simply enjoying a lovely, lengthy vacation with some really nice people (us). Greg catapulted into deep grief immediately missing his foster parents, coming to terms with the fact he wouldn't be returning to his birthmom and working on attachment with us. Eric, not so much.

For seven or eight months Eric acted completely indifferent to the change in his circumstances. The change in his parents. The change in his family structure. He showed some confusion, but little fear, grief or loss.

Then it hit like a fire storm. All consuming, he gave himself over to the emotions and we held on for dear life hoping we survived intact. We did. We came out stronger. Better for it. But never, ever wanting to go through that process again. None of us.

Eric holds on to dear life now to the ones he trusts to keep him safe, FOREVER. Eric could not, would not survive the loss of stability again. The loss of a family. The loss of a mother. His resiliency has been used up in his survival so far.

And that's how he views reunion. A threat to that which is most important in the world to Eric. Stability. Safety. Family. Routine. Me.

The choice to come on our trip with Greg was left completely in Eric's hands. But I will be honest, I wanted him to come. Practical reasons mostly. Two kids + One Trip = Less Money than Two Kids + Two Trips. His first family wanted him to come for obvious reasons. His foster family would have loved to see him. Eric took the adamant stance of NO.

Thank the Lord for a stubborn child. The trip and the emotional consequences of it that Greg sailed through would have devastated and terrified Eric.

Coming home, as we pulled into the driveway he stood there with a gigantic smile on his face. Both with relief that I was home, but also anticipation that I had a suitcase full of gifts for him.

I hugged him. I placed his face in between my hands and stared deep into his eyes. (Eye contact. Never, ever take it for granted.)

"You made the right decision Eric. Don't you worry for one second that you SHOULD HAVE come. You made the right decision for YOU and I am so proud that you knew that even before the trip "

Tangible relief. "Really??!!??" Half question. Half statement.

For now. For who Eric is today, reunion is not the right decision. One day he may chose to face his fears face to face in the eyes of his other family, but for now, Eric's security is far more important to him than his curiosity.

He likes the pictures. He listens intently to the stories. He enjoys the letters.

But mostly, he loves the distance.

No one, no way, no how will ever threaten Eric's world again if he can at all control it.

We work with Eric on his fears, but for now, I respect my son who made the decision that was best for him. And I respect the son for whom reunion was what he needed.

Two boys. Two different needs. Two different stories. Same mom.

Cuteness, 2002 Style

Two and a half years home.

Caden 1, Eric 5, Tanner 4, Gregory 6

Reunion Thoughts. The Post in which I lose all my Friends

Your blog has calmed some of my secret fears - that K will resent me
for taking him away from his birth family at some point. I have
clarity in that I will be able to tell him that he was going to be adopted, most
likely by a white person or persons, and that I was lucky enough to be matched
with him. I'm adopted, for Christ's sake, and I know that a child can be
completely attached to a non-birth family - even though I didn't achieve this
with my adoptive family but that was their failing not the adoptive relationship
at work. But there's a fear in me that one day K will reject me and
identify more with what he missed then what he has. I will have no problem
honouring and supporting his grief around that separation; it is more his
rejection that I fear. I don't think I had allowed myself to voice this fear until reading about Greg's clear attachment to you (you are his mom, you and Shelby and the other kids ARE his family) stilled it somewhat.

A (adoptee/amom)- email

This is a post that's very difficult to write. A post in which I am choosing total honesty, from my perspective, while at the same time realizing that my words may hurt people I love and respect. There are so many in this adoption world I know and have learned from. So many voices that have taught me much. First parents, adopted adults, other adoptive parents who are my friends. So as I lay it bare today, please know that I am choosing this to put a voice to the secret and inner fears of many adoptive parents, but am not trying to attack anyone who thinks or feels differently. And to those who may think or feel that my secret thoughts are wrong or offensive, I am sorry for any hurt they cause you, but I am fallible, human and trying to be transparent so that others can learn and maybe be better for it.

There was a point on our trip that I actually said out loud "SCREW YOU INTERNET". Screw every person who ever belittled my motherhood. Who called me an "abductor" or an "adoptress". Who told me my sons could never REALLY bond with me. Who instilled a deep, even unacknowledged fear that I could never be a real mom to my sons. Screw the people who said we weren't really a family. Who forced me to defend my children's relationship to each other. To ME. To their Dad.

I am angry at myself for letting those words seep in to my soul. The foundation of my motherhood. My womanhood. For having to make a conscious decision to face those secret fears. Its not "your" anonymous opinion I have EVER cared about, but you made me question my sons' opinion of me.

I KNEW how I felt about my sons. That my love for them was the same as my love for the sons I birthed. I knew that MY bond to them was unmoveable. I knew my committment level to them was lifelong and miles deep. You random internet people have dared question me on that, but I knew. I KNEW. You could never, ever shake MY love for my boys.

But you placed fear in my heart of my sons' view of me. And for that I am angry. I am angry because it was wasted fear. Wasted times I have worried. Wasted energy that I could have spent simply BEING their mom. The mom they needed. The mom they needed to heal. The mom they needed me to be.

We can carry the weight of a loving, complex, imperfect, flawed family. And we are better people for knowing our roots and having known the people that helped make us who we are.

L - email

I have never denied the need for openness if at all possible. The need for adopted children and adults to know and have a relationship, if at all possible, with their first families. The need for open records. The hole that some adoptees feel that can sometimes never be filled. I dont deny attachment issues (heck we've lived them). I don't deny that there is abuse in all sorts of families, including adoptive. I don't deny that there are some really crappy parents out there who don't try to understand the needs of their children through adoption. And I certainly don't deny that some adoptions are completely unnecessary.

But hear me loud and clear internet. Listen to me because I am not going to ever bother to explain or justify again.

I SAW in my son's eyes on this trip I AM, without a shadow of a doubt, his mom. A REAL mom to him. Never again will you instill in me fear that I am not enough. That I have or will inevitably fail him. That he doesn't love me, or need me, or that I am a poor substitute. We ARE a family.

I hate what I let you steal from me. I hate that I let you create in me an insecurity that didn't need to be there. Never again, dear random internet people, will I believe your lies.

And more importantly, neither will my son.

All this introspection is hurting my brain

So I am distracting you all with cuteness.

Eric on Okanagan Lake

Tanner. Slip And Slide.

Caden. A happy swim.

Greg playing football in the lake.

Reunion. My Thoughts. A Question of Time

Time. Timing. All in God's time. All in good time. Too much time. Not enough time. Time's running out.

Time played a huge part in our reunion trip and our decision to take it.

Trust that Greg knew it was a good time for him. Trust that we as his parents knew it was the right time for our son. And we took time to prepare him and ourselves for the visit.

Late Summer, 2007 during the course of a conversation with Greg he expressed a desire to meet his first family, particularly his father, mother and little sisters. We took time to talk about this decision with Greg. We gave him time to change his mind, let him vacillate between wanting to go right away and wanting to wait.

I took that time to prepare. We became "approved prison visitors" so that seeing Sr. would be a possibility. We looked at ticket prices. We took out a loan to pay for the trip. I began counselling to prepare myself. We sought counsel for Greg.

Greg took more time. He changed his mind. He didn't want to miss hockey. School kept him busy. It wasn't the right time, yet. But THE time was coming.

May, 2008. Hockey season is over. Our summer stretches before us. Long weeks already filled. I find the boys' long lost brother on Myspace. Through him I find their mother, numbers changed repeatedly since our last contact, and she has moved several times the last year.

But the lost are now found. I consider this a sign of God's Timing. The Right Time.

Greg has decided that now is the time. The pieces of our trip begin to fall into place.

Now I have to make a decision. HOW MUCH TIME? How much is long enough? How much is too long?

This is an expensive trip for us. Hotels, meals, car rental, air plane tickets, entertainment. Its not a trip we can afford to do once a year. It has to be long enough that it feels like enough, but not so long that it drags on. Having never been through this before, I read, I ask, I pray.

Prison visiting restrictions mean that we can only visit Sr. around weekends. I make the decision that our trip should encompass at least two weekends in order to accommodate an additional prison visit if Greg wants it. We will arrive on a Friday night and will leave the following Sunday.

Foster family is in St. Louis. Sr. is incarcerated an hour from St. Louis. Mother and family live two and a quarter hours away in Jefferson City. Our time will have to be divided. Two weekends in St. Louis. 5 days in Jeff City.

And then smaller divisions of time. Time with friends. Good times. Distracting times. Play time. Times that were right to take for our sanity. A very good decision.

Time with foster family. Parents to my sons for three long years. They deserved quality and quantity time. The woman who chose me to be the mother of my sons. Who gave up her own automatic rights of legal motherhood if she wanted it but she chose us. She needed time with Greg and we wanted time with their family. 3 good days. Excellent decision.

Time in prison. First visit was perfect. An hour and a half. Good length of time.

Second prison visit. 3 and a half hours. Too long. Time stood still. It dragged its lazy butt forward minute by minute. Learned my lesson. Visits where we sit across from one another and talk need to be kept shorter. It's healthier. It's funner. It's less stressful for my son. We will use our time management with this in mind throughout our week.

Third prison visit. No time. Greg chooses not to go back. Sr. didn't know it was an option so wasn't hurt by Greg's choice to use his time differently. This is Greg's time. I trust him to know if he needs more time with his father. No, he wants more time with his foster father. We use the allotted prison visit time to take his foster family out for supper.

Time in Jefferson City. I have been asked why so much time? Why continue to spend time when things started to badly?

Greg was able to articulate before our trip the number one thing he wanted was TIME with his siblings. The siblings live in Jefferson City. Yes, they also live where his mother, aunt and grandmother were. Strangely, the best part of the trip was the seemingly endless amounts of time we spent alone with the kids.

Monday. Good day. Awkward times. Fun times alone with boys. Tired times. Very glad for day one.

Tuesday. Great day. Fun times. Lots of alone time with all the kids. Feels like strange times to me. The cracks in the adult relationships begin to show but barely. If our time was up on this day, I suppose, the picture of our visit would have been different however, we would have left with a very incomplete picture of the reality of his first family.

Wednesday. Awful Day. Should have been a fun day. Tried to make a fun time. Tried to buy a fun day. Failed.

L choose to lose the rest of her time with Greg by placing pressure on him. By asking him if he wanted to stay she lost out on all future visit time with Greg. My son, our son, is a strong boy. From that moment in time, our time with L was done. Over the next 2 days of our visit we spent a grand total of one hour and 10 minutes with L. Not a word exchanged from Greg to her after Wednesday. No desire on his part for more time. Her loss of time.

Could I have left then? Should I have ended our time together because of what L did? No. Greg wanted more time. Time with the children who have to live with the consequences of being parented by L every single day. He needed that time with his siblings, they needed that time with him. L lost on HER time, no more should the kids pay for her mistakes.

From Wednesday night through to Friday morning Greg and I spent many hours talking together, processing together and needing each other. We had special time. I gained time with my son to be together. To let him lean on me. This was HIS time, HIS visit, to make the choices about. He chose how to use the time we had there, and the time to leave.

On those last two days we spent over ten hours alone with his sisters. Precious, irreplaceable time. Precious memories of time that would have been lost if I took Greg's time because of L's words.

We spent 15 hours with his brother. Boys sleepover time. Long overdue time.

Time to leave Jefferson City. Time to let Greg enforce his personal boundaries. Time to say goodbye. Time for them to let Greg go again. Time for tears. Time for relief. Time to talk.

Ten minutes. Greg had decided it was time to leave.

I have spent much time wondering if Sr and his family get the glory in our memories because our time was so much shorter with them. What would have more time been like in a family with active drug addicts? With people so obviously struggling? Is our picture of them incomplete too?

But I continue to go back to what Greg wanted from this visit. Time with the kids. To meet his father and his mother and spend time with the kids. He met. We spent time. Children need time to begin to open up. To play together. We took the time to make memories. I have no regrets about that.

It was a good time. It was a hard time. It was definitely the right time for my son.

Reunion. My Thoughts. Part One

I have been trying for a week to formulate an entry that separates what I think we did right in this journey, and what I think I would change if we were to go through it again. My mistakes and blunders as compared to what I feel I did accomplish.

Its just not coming.

So instead, I am going to take a few days to ramble about my feelings, my experiences and how those feelings and experiences affected both my son and myself.

My feelings and personal insights aren't meant to offend, or to dictate how someone else should or would feel in a similar circumstance. But based on the emails I am getting, I do believe that an honest assessment of this process, from an adoptive parent perspective, is needed. If it helps one other family, one other child, one other parent then its worth it.

1. Trip Preparation: Pride and Regret
Pride
I feel proud because as much as I could, I helped to prepare Greg for the trip. We talked about feelings, boundaries, possibilities, eventualities and possible difficulties endlessly. We talked with the help of a counsellor, and we talked on our own. We forced him to think about the trip when he would have rather just taken it on a wing and a prayer.

I honestly believe that my preparation with Greg was the key to him not being completely overwhelmed by the experience and by his willingness to share with me what he was thinking and feeling DURING the trip. No topic, no feeling, no discussion was off limits between us. Because of our communication I was able to know exactly where he was at, and help him get what HE wanted out of the experience.

Regret

With L, however, I completely failed in my preparation of her and her family for THEIR reunion experience with Greg. Yes, I know that they are adults and should take responsibility for their own relationship but the reality of foster care adoption is that I am their only source of information on Greg. I am ALSO their only source of information on adoption and what that means to both the child, adoptive family and sadly, inevitably to the birth/first family as well.

When L's rights were terminated, she wasn't counselled on what that would mean long term in regards to the kids. The focus was on HER behavior, her parenting and the consequences to HER. When it was determined that she would not or could not be a safe parent to the two boys, her involvement in their care and future ended from the point of view of the state. Her behavior chose adoption for her children but it was not her own seemingly educated or conscious choice. And so today, she deals with the consequences of her actions without any foundation of knowledge or understanding.

I did try. But I tried to be gentle. Soft. Blunt the edges of the kids' truth a bit. I wanted her to like me. I didn't want to be the one to hurt them. Instead, I left that to the reality of a 13 year old very much different than the baby they remembered, or the son they wanted back, do it for me. Greg's outward emotional indifference to them and fear of them spoke louder than any words I could have shared but if I had been honest before hand, it might have been less of a shock and made the experience easier on them. They might have been more prepared.

I wish I would have said, "Greg will not call you mom, aunt or grandma on this trip. There is no chance he will because he has told me emphatically he will not. Respecting that will make things easier on him."

Instead I said "I don't know what Greg will call you. We have told him he could call you anything he wants so the option is up to him."

I wish I would have said, "Greg has asked that I stay with him for the entire trip. Unless his comfort level significantly changes while we are down there, he does not want to be left alone at anytime. I will always be available and accessible to him to help him through the visit."

Instead I said, "I am sure we will have lots of fun together. Maybe Greg would like to do that with you, but I am not sure. We will have to wait and see."

I don't know what they expected I just know the reality of Greg was not it. Greg HAS a family. Greg HAS a life. And even harder for them, Greg HAS a mom he is close to. I do not know if L and her family have the capacity to understand his truth due to a variety of issues, but in my attempts to be "liked" by them and not be seen as the possessive adoptive mother I didn't do a good enough job of stating that before we arrived. And they didn't try to understand that while we were there.

I am proud that my experience with Sr. was completely different. Sr. has written us hundreds of letters over the years. Those letters, and our replies, took the time and effort for him to get to know who we are as a family, and how his sons fit into that picture. He has read any and all adoption books we have sent him. He took the time to learn about what GREG might be feeling going through this, and his entire focus was on GREG. It makes our relationship with him so much easier. It makes GREG'S relationship with him so much more comfortable.

Nothing about our interactions with Sr. made Greg feel like it was an "either / or" proposition. Sr's role was in addition to Greg's place in our family. A positive, loving addition. Nothing is taken away by his place in our family, nothing is taken away by his place in Sr.'s family. We can come together to surround who counts the most in this, Greg and Eric. I am proud of that.

I wish L could have understood that by holding on to what she dreamed about with Greg, she lost what was possible with Greg. Because she so wanted one type of relationship with him that he wasn't willing to have at this time, she lost out on what could have been. Maybe forever.

Camping, Common Sense Style

We had sun, wind and rain. Plenty of fun toys to keep the kids busy, and plenty of friends to enjoy the weekend with, and plenty of time to just relax. Some new friends, some old friends and a couple birthdays to boot. Caden quickly decided that riding the tube with his big brothers was a scary, scary experience.
Tanner got thrown from the tube three times. And loved every minute of it.
Greg had lots of practice being the super cool 13 year old he is. And then we would tease him mercilessly about it.
Eric loves the wind in his hair on the boat, almost as much as his dog does.
Tanner wouldn't get out of the water. 5 long water skiis later we told him that was enough for today. And of course, we just sat around and did nothing. Right.

Ended the night with s'mores, glow sticks and sparklers. A perfect camping trip, again.