Month: June 2019

Why are you so loud? And direct? And maybe crude? And kind of rude about your kids and life? And why do you swear so much? 

I guess the question is really, why do I write this blog, and more specifically, in writing it, why am I so painfully honest and/or fucking intense?

(Surprise! It’s not alcohol that makes me honest!)

There’s a few reasons.  First, it’s selfish.  I cannot overstate (except I DO! Regularly! In this very blog!) exactly what an emotional roller coaster I have found this process, from deciding to try to have children at all despite my own history of trauma and personality difficulties, to not being capable of physically having children, to the analysis of whether and how to have children when the easy way didn’t work and weighing the pros and cons of so many different alternatives now that “just relax and have some sex” isn’t useful advice.  Shouting into the void gives me a way to organize my thoughts and, often, to let the immediacy of the emotions slide away, and to bring some logic to the pure emotion of the situation.  Life is nothing but decision after decision and I can’t even start the pros and cons list until I get my general belief system sorted out.  I have almost always done that by writing.  And I feel a real sense of calm and release after I write and post blogs.  It’s not just venting endlessly to friends, it feels more contained and process-oriented, even though it is descriptive of experience.

OK, sure, but why so PUBLIC?

When I started walking this path, I didn’t know anyone who had done this.  I knew lots of people who had done parts of it – I knew women with miscarriages, I knew families that had adopted, I knew some adult adoptees.  I was not close with ANY woman who had lots of miscarriages; I was super-lucky to have one friend who had, and who gave so much more of herself to me than any human should have to. But she was the only basis I had for personal journey.  The internet has A LOT of support for women experiencing infertility, but very few to none of those writings felt like ME. There is a lot of god in many infertility stories, and a lot of “being a woman is…” – none of those felt particularly accessible.  None of them helped me process my own journey.  None of them made me feel “normal”.

Then, when we moved through the different ways of adopting, and the idea of adopting through foster care in particular, I looked everywhere for true and honest discussion of this journey of adopting non-private and more specifically, non-infants…and I just again did not find much that matched the road we are walking. You can find some saccharine shit about being some sort of saviors and the joy of being a child’s last hope.  You can find religion-based journeys, but those do not resonate to my own journey – different motivations and positive feedback loops.  You can also find a LOT of absolute horror-stories of people who reversed adoptions and/or placed their adoptees in basically asylums for being psychopaths. I especially was not able to find any long-term honest journeys of BOTH the joys and the pain.  And I still haven’t found any stories that start in misery and move into joy.  I really want to be the success story that I was looking for when I started –  the honest one, so people fee connected and supported and NORMAL.

But why are you so MEAN?

I actually do not think that the way I talk about my kids is MEAN but I do think it is way more honest than many parents are – or should be, with their kids when they are kids.  In contrast, I believe that honest discussion between adult parents and their securely attached adult children about the reality of parenting is really important and could help a lot of people make a lot more informed choices and walk forward with intention.  But in general, I think most of us have negative thoughts about the weight of parenting.  And some of us, who CHOSE this, but are not NATURAL at it, (surely, surely, I am not the only woman like this!) have more than most.  And I share that because we all know that visibility matters – I talk to women all the time who wonder if they are bad people or bad moms because they have so many doubts, and fears, and even anger.  And moments where just falling apart seems so much easier than going on, but it would be so EMBARRASSING to tell anyone how HARD it is to do this thing that is supposed to be the pinnacle of human (or at least women’s) existence.

I am a lot more direct than many people – some people find it stressful and off-putting.  Which is totally fair! I find Minnesota-nice, passive-aggressive, beating-around-the-bush, being nice over resentment, off-putting and I deal really really well with people just calling me on my shit and then we deal with issues.  Since I cannot be the ONLY person in the entire world who has ever found direct honest self-reporting and self-reflection refreshing, I feel totally fine with my tone.  There’s plenty of bubbly happy mom-blogs out there for those that are looking for that version.

You really swear…a lot. 

I DO! Well, I do on this blog.  Amazingly, since we got kids I think I have only dropped one f-bomb in front of X3! She came already full of swear words and as a result we have cut our own usual use of swearing down to almost nothing – way more that we would have with natural-born or opted from infancy children.  With her, we REALLY have to live the life we describe, there is no “do as a I say, not as I do”.  We have to model every second of every day.  As a result, I swear ALL THE TIME when I am not around children.  It’s like a swearing pressure that must be released! Also, I think swearing is really important punctuation when used appropriately.  Also, I think swearing is just funny. So, if swearing is not your thing, my blog is probably just not really your thing either!  That’s ok, there’s lots of mommies out there that DON’T swear.  Go read THEIR blogs you fucking prig!

 

I have been so miserable for so long I have been entirely unable to update this blog.  It was a vicious circle of outside misery input that I could not change, and constant internal questioning my life choices and self-blame for always, always, walking the hardest path, and self-flagellation and shame for BEING so miserable for a grouping of situations that I chose to walk into with my eyes wide open.  The last few months were FUCKING HARD.  And it’s only when you have 22 seconds to breath that you (me) can accept that life can actually BE that hard, and it’s ok to just be goddamn fucking miserable and regret every choice that led where you have landed.  AND, to be able to see through that cloud of misery to a time that you were not THIS miserable and to hold onto that memory like a talisman to keep drawing you forward to a future that, if there is any fairness or hope in this universe, will not be this miserable.

And you know what? At last, AT LAST, we made it (back – we have stopped here before in the last year) to the ultimate goal – less miserable!

So, where have we BEEN and WTF have we been DOING that caused SO MUCH MISERY?

Well, there’s the every day reality that parenting a child of trauma is just endless and hard.  X3 went through a huge regression, that consisted of a few months of (1) a nighterror of spiders – up LITERALLY SCREAMING hours at night.  Trust me, we tried EVERYTHING. Yes, we tried that idea you are thinking of right now.  She eventually spent over a week sleeping in full body-covering PJs with no blankets or pillows or stuffies or anything that could possibly allow a spider to hide, in the direct middle of her bed; and then, (2) a general trauma regression at school which resulted in multiple days of problem behaviors such as swearing, running away, taking off her pants, hitting other children, and rage-flipping entire tables; and then (3) a trauma-regression of general reactive attachment of general horrible home behavior; and (4) finally, approximately a month of night terrors (this is post-spider!) with 2+ screaming wake-ups every night that require an adult to remove her to a lighted area, force her to do jumping jacks or dance or move her body to come back to it, often while she is sobbing, until she is present enough to be aware and then be ABLE to start calming down.

At the same time, X2 decided she isn’t all that into sleep herself, and then there were two! Either alternating back and forth wake-ups or one for the first half of the night and the other for the second half of the night.

Exhausted parents are REALLY BAD at parenting.  At least this one is.  And, I have my own history to battle; one of the reasons I never wanted kids because I know my capacity for pure rage, and I never wanted to parent like my own mother who was terrifying when she lost control.  And there were moments in the last few months where I was literally dissociated from my OWN body watching myself and thinking, “how can you feel/act this way towards a traumatized child?” while simultaneously being SO. FUCKING. DONE. with the constant BULLSHIT.  (to be entirely clear, I have never and WOULD NEVER hurt my kid.  But I have been angrier than I ever think I should be).  And then I was both despairing and full of rage – at my partner, for wanting this life so much but now hating it and being in his own misery of rage; at my kid, for just honestly being so difficult; at the baby for JUST NOT SLEEPING and also kind of for being so easy and amazing and just a reminder of how unfair life was to her sister; at myself, for choosing a life that I am so-poorly suited for.

And the more exhausted and angry and resentful and miserable and self-hating for feeling these ways I became, the less I had to give to my partner or kids.  And X3 is a bottomless hole of need – so the less I have to throw in there, the more she constantly demands with endless touching, escalated behavior, and defiance/oppositional behavior for attention.  It is hard to describe the combination of sorrow and rage a person can feel while parenting a child who believes that “mom shows love” mean mom touches me in anger or roughly and then does everything humanly possible to elicit that reaction from you.  And so, depleted, sad, angry, frustrated, and generally miserable we survived more months.

AT THE SAME TIME (so, meanwhile?)…shortly after Christmas (literally 6 days after I purged the house of all the tiny baby clothing and toys after deciding we were truly done) we learned our kids’ bio-mom was pregnant again.  And so we faced the question of whether we had the capacity to parent another kid.  The reality is, I am already at more than full capacity.  There is no more of me – so another kid means less of me for the kids we have, more struggles with fulfilling expectations at work, less of me for my partner, and even longer until there is some day enough of me for me to direct any thoughts to what my own needs might be.  X3’s therapist was clear that she thought it would be survivable but very traumatic for X3 and likely cause regression. And it would mean signing up for the entire foster process (meetings, visits, terror the court will make the wrong decision) again – which we are so desperate to get OUT OF.  And like, MAYBE we could do 3 kids. But we don’t want 5. Or 7. Or 10.

But when and how do you say “no” to a soon-to-be baby? How do you tell your adult children “yeah, we could have also had your sibling but we decided that was too hard, so we just sent them into the system”? I literally can barely trust a coworker to write a brief for me, there is honestly no way I could calmly say “no” and just let someone else be responsible for this baby that is my kids’ sibling.  And, we are also sort of are sad to be saying goodbye to the baby phase with X2 and knowing that we will never have another chance for “the baby experience”.  But that’s no reason to have a baby in our current depleted state!

So we vacillated and planned our lives around having a new baby, and terrified ourselves, and fought through “yes we are doing this” to “no, we absolutely fucking cannot” and back to “I think we honestly have to”.  And then, at last AT LAST we learned that new baby has gone “poof” into the wind.  Whether it never existed, or existed briefly only to vanish before becoming a viable being we need to make decisions about we will never know, but it’s enough to know that there is no new baby heading our way in the next month or so.  Seriously, thank goodness!!!!!! It is the very best possible thing for every single involved being.  But also seriously, sadness at no baby again.

AT THE SAME TIME, we got news that a family member had contacted social services and suddenly wanted all the kids (bonus vanishing baby was still pending at that time as well).  After these kids have been in care for YEARS, and this family member had specifically stated that they DID NOT want them, and had never seen them, and had had no contact, AND is the subject of my kids’ trauma-therapy-play, we were suddenly plunged into “are you fucking kidding me right now”?” status of uncertainty and more delay.  After all that, it seems the family member now appeared to change their mind and NOT want the kids – but who will ever know until this process is DONE.  ARGH!

AT THE SAME TIME, X3’s school really fell apart on us.  This school thing is a TRIP!  Stable kids probably do well in just about any school.  My kid is not one.  And she has a lengthy and detailed IEP that confirms it.  And she is in a disaster school, full of kids like her but undiagnosed and in families of origin living at crisis point.  And, I chose this school specially and could not be more frustrated that I failed so hard!  The school is FULL of seriously dedicated individuals working every second to make the lives of these children better; but if I told you the absolute ridiculous lack of administrative responsibility and constant chaos you would be appalled.  And so, I am now that parent – I got my kid into a great suburban school that we can’t wait to start next year.  But in the meantime, we have been pushing through at chaos school with meetings, and calls, and emails.  We are so lucky to have the staff we have, but so additionally exhausted by trying to demand the level of competence every kid deserves.

But … we made it.  At last, AT LAST, it was May.

And we have had X3 FOR ONE ENTIRE YEAR!  AND THINGS WERE TERRIBLE BUT WE NEEDED TO CELEBRATE ANYWAY!  We went to Perkins on our together anniversary, where we used to go to spend time together before she moved in, and where I had the joy of having a woman in the bathroom ask me how old my granddaughter was.  To be fair (TO BE FAAYYYRRE) it’s not inconceivable, especially in my neighborhood, that I could have a two year old granddaughter.  But I was NOT. AMUSED.

(NOT A GRANDMA MY GOOD BITCH!)

And, this wonderful day that I had planned to be great was actually terrible, and I was so upset that nothing went right, and it was just another chance for me to be out of control and miserable, this time for really little stupid reasons, but I just wanted ONE NICE DAY TOGETHER SO IT DIDN’T FEEL LIKE I RUINED MY LIFE FOR NOTHING!

But then… at last, AT LAST, it GOT BETTER.  A LOT better.  It’s still hard (I hear parenting is just hard).  BUT, literally EVERY SINGLE DAY of the last month, has been better than EVERY SINGLE DAY of this month last year! That is REAL, demonstrable progress!

And, X3 just turned 6!

Last year, she said she didn’t believe she had a birthday. She didn’t want a party.  She wanted to be entirely alone, to eat a big cupcake by herself.  THIS YEAR, she was able to count down the days to her birthday (LAST YEAR SHE COULD NOT COUNT!), and able to understand that we were having the party on a different day than her actual birthday AND that she got two celebrations as a result!

And, I fear to even say this, but the last week, X3 has slept through the night every night, and X2 has only been up 1-3 times per night.  I have had 3 nights decent sleep out of the last 5, and I honestly WOKE UP ON MY OWN the other day, NOT entirely exhausted.  It was…so much easier to just do anything for that entire few hours it lasted until the exhaustion found me again!

AND, last week, X3 woke up in the morning and did not immediately start screaming for a parent.  She got up, and for almost 20 minutes she just played.  And when she called for me, I said “I’ll be down in a minute, play toys for a bit” and…SHE DID.  I was able to get up and CHOOSE to come downstairs, and it was SO EASY to give her real, enthusiastic, joyful, love.  The smile on my face was real, and the morning hug was actually glad to see her.  That break, for less than 1/2 an hour, from HAVING to fulfill another person’s endless needs to being able to CHOOSE to come engage, felt like I lost 1,000 lbs of pure pressure.  And, it opened up the space for hope.

Hope that X3 can keep getting better.  Hope that our lives can become more about joy and love and less about surviving and faking it till we make it.  And most, hope that I can keep getting better at this job I have chosen, but which does not come even a little bit naturally to me. And I better keep getting better!  Because I have promised that I will, to these kids and to myself. And because at last, AT LAST, we have been told that, barring yet another unknown, we WILL be adopting these amazing children in the next 90 days.