The D Word

My husband came home last night and told me he wanted a divorce. Yes, things haven't been wonderful since we adopted the kids, but I had no idea anyone was considering divorce. He has definitely made up his mind, and he is not willing to try to reconcile or try counseling. Basically he has been festering about everything that has ever been said or done, my fault or not, in the last decade. I mean, I asked him last weekend if he wanted to try to take a trip for our 10 year anniversary. Maybe he could have mentioned he wasn't planning on being around then. 

All I am worried about right now is my kids. My son is basically like a snowglobe that was just beginning to settle. This is going to shake him all up again. Took three years to calm him down the last time. I wish I could protect him from this. Honestly, I would pretend nothing was wrong for the next decade if that would spare him the pain he is going to experience. This is his absolute worst nightmare: our forever family wasn't actually forever.

I feel that my husband is being selfish, making his needs a priority over everyone else's. 

Back to School

School is back in session. That means a change in routine. Changes in routine lead to anxiety. Anxiety leads to scratching and insomnia. For a neurotypical kiddo, going back to school is an adjustment. For a kiddo with PTSD and anxiety, going back to school is a huge challenge. It stirs up memories of grief and loss. It causes separation anxiety, eczema flair ups, and insomnia. My youngest has the least amount of trauma from his early life experiences, so he is able to go with the flow a bit more. My daughter, however, cried at Meet the Teacher night. I realize that isn't too unusual for a first grader, but she has the same teacher, classroom, and students as last year. Our elementary school loops, so they have two years with the same people. I couldn't believe she had tears again! My oldest, on the other hand, is a mess. He can't sleep at night. We are back to someone laying with him or him sleeping in our room. He is a third grader, and we still go through this with each transition. He has been here almost three years. He has nightmares, his legs are full of scratches, and he can't stop thinking about his birth mom. All of this stems from his "normal" summer routine morphing into his "normal" school routine. I told people that I don't do anything for the first month after school starts. No appointments. No activities. I was thinking maybe I didn't need to pause everything this year, but I am glad I did. D just needs extra time with us. He needs to be reassured that we are not leaving him, he is safe, and he will be okay with this new normal again. Just like my daughter, he has the same classroom, teacher, and students. It isn't anything new. The challenge is just to readjust. We will make it, but it takes a lot of extra TLC. A lot of hugs, patience, and extra family time. We also experience a spike in tantrums and angry outbursts. We will survive.

Grandparent Trip

We are so blessed to have such wonderful grandparents for our kids on both sides of the family. I am so grateful for the love and experiences our parents share with our kids. Here is just one example. D is currently on day six of a nine day trip with his paternal grandparents. About a year ago, Nana brought up the idea of a grandparent trip when each kid was at least seven years old. This year, D turned eight, and his cousin turned seven. So off they went! At Christmas, they found out the destination, Mount Rushmore, and received book about some of the places they were going to see as part of their Christmas gifts. Nana created an itinerary to help D with his anxiety, and he has been having a blast! He called the first couple days, but he has just been having too much fun to worry about us. They have gone to Denver, Cheyenne, and Rapid City. Pretty soon they will head back to Denver to drop off the cousin and then return home to Kansas. It is amazing that Nana and Granddad were willing to take my son and all of his baggage (literal and metaphorical) on a nine day adventure. That is true love.

The Leash

Big D has been experimenting with attention-seeking behavior lately. He wants to see where I will draw the line. These behaviors usually only come up when Dad has been gone for a couple of days or Big D is feeling anxious. In the last six weeks, here are some of the behaviors he has tried out.

He was sitting with me one morning eating his breakfast while I got ready for work. This is not a normal mourning routine, but he was having a rough morning. He was trying to ruffle my feathers, but I held my cool. So he kept raising the stakes little by little: name-calling, sassing, pushing, and so on. Finally he threatened to touch my flat iron and then immediately followed through. Luckily it was only a minor burn on the very tip of one finger, but he spent several days upset over his own behavior.

The second incident was when he got angry and threatened to jump out of his window - on the second  floor of our old Victorian home. Since I was home alone and still freaked out by the flat iron incident, I nailed his window closed. Maybe not the best solution, but it was all I had at the time. At least it kept him safe.

Awhile later, we had an incident with a leash. He was playing nicely with his siblings, and then he came to me and said, "Look at my neck." Upon inspection, i correctly guessed that he had taken he leash and choked himself.  Neither of his siblings ever mentioned anything about it, but I was pretty upset.

Although he is not trying to hurt himself, I am concerned about his need for attention and for his exploration of self-harming behavior. Needless to say, we have had some extra therapy sessions and some interesting communication with school. I am very thankful we have such a network of support for ourselves and for our children. We haven't had an incident for a couple of weeks now, so I am hoping this phase is over.

Spring Break

Spring break is not a "relaxing" time for kids who require a predictable routine every day...so we welcomed back the visual schedule to our home!

Due to D's anxiety, OCD, and PTSD, he needs a regular and predictable schedule. When he first came to live with us, we used these schedule cards every day for a year and a half. For kids who have been through foster care and trauma, unscheduled time is not relaxing. There are more cards than shown above, but this gives the general idea. We have cards for bath, homework, swimming, playtime, etc. To help with the 11 days at home (four of which Dad was gone), I made sure to go over the daily plan each morning during breakfast. It didn't change hardly at all since we spent the break playing at home, but the cards were discussed daily. If we decided to change something during the day, we all went to the schedule and changed the cards around. Even though it doesn't have times, the kids could see what was "coming up next." Appointments, walks, art, and movies also made appearances during break.

Overall, it was the best spring break we have had in the three years we have had the kiddos. We had dentist appointments (again) and a few excursions like a picnic at a local outdoor area and checking out a ranch. There were very few meltdowns and fits! I am not sure the cards can take all the credit, but I think they were a major factor.

Visit my Etsy shop for these schedule cards as a digital download! They have been a lifesaver!

The Performance

Our elementary school does a performance each year for every grade. In kindergarten and first grade, the performance went really well. As a second grader, D's performance gave him quite a bit more anxiety. I don't know why this year was different. Maybe it was because his teacher wasn't going to be there. Maybe it was because there was a new music teacher. Maybe his anxiety is just growing. I don't really know. All I know is that D spent the three days leading up to the performance crying, throwing fits, and obsessively reminding me of what time he needed to arrive. He worried about people staring at him. He worried about being late.

In the end, he did great. The days leading up to the event, however, nearly did us all in. I am not sure how to help him relax and not worry when we are getting near a big event. We talk through it. We mark it on the calendar. We have never been late or missed a big event. Hopefully we can find the magic answer soon.

Show and Tell

My kiddos' teachers were super thoughtful and allowed all the students in their classes to bring an object for show and tell after Christmas. It was a great experience for my kiddos, except D. Since this was a change in routine, it rocked his whole world. The guideline was to bring something school appropriate that could fit in a backpack. Since many of his Christmas presents were Nerf toys, he couldn't bring any of them. His books and games weren't "cool" enough. In his mind, he was going to bring his fire truck crane because it actually can pick up other cars, has flashing lights, and makes noise. Awesome, right? Well, it didn't fit in his backpack. After a super-mega-huge-horrible tantrum about something unrelated to show and tell, I realized that the root cause of the problem was actually show and tell. We emailed his teacher to see what could be done. Technically his fire truck crane could fit in his backpack...but it stuck out about 6 inches, preventing the backpack from closing. For 45 minutes we waited on pins and needles. He nearly rubbed his face off with his blanket. Finally - success! His teacher would allow the fire truck crane! Although, in all honesty, I think I might have sent it anyway. I never cease to be surprised that one small change in routine, even a happy one, can be so difficult on my son. When will I learn? I am extremely thankful he has an understanding and compassionate teacher as well!
 

Dance Pictures

I knew it was going to be a stressful experience for my daughter. I had prepared her for the posing and the photographer, but I didn't know exactly what things would be like since I hadn't brought a child to take dance pictures before. When we arrived, she immediately started getting upset. We had to walk past a handful of strangers and then into a room where 15 or so teenagers were changing their costumes. My daughter changed into her costume and moved closer and closer to me as her anxiety grew. She wouldn't speak to her friends or their moms. When it was time for pictures, I had to walk her down the stairs, and attempted to pry her off my leg. She wouldn't budge. The mom that was in charge of pictures asked the dance teacher if I should come in with my daughter. Maybe she would make it okay if I was in the room with her, right?

As each of the cherubs took their pictures in their charming Belle tutus, tears silently rolled down my daughter's cheeks. With each advance toward the photographer, her tears increased in size and frequency. Finally it was her turn. The photographer could tell she was upset, so he asked me to walk her to her position. The dance teacher peeled her off of my leg, and I backed up next to the photographer. I watched my daughter turn into her teacher's arms and heard her begin to cry. They made funny faces; I waved; everyone tried to get her to relax and take a picture. After what seemed like forever, I had to remove myself because I beginning to cry as well. I felt embarrassed, saddened, and worried. Then I realized that making my daughter stand in front of a room full of people, terrified and sobbing, was a ridiculous idea. I walked to the photographer and announced that it was enough. We were finished. I held my daughter and comforted her, my five-year-old going on fourteen who had come so far since last year.

We watched as her class took some great pictures together, and I hoped that she realized photographers don't hurt people. I knew we still had to make our way back to the changing area, passing many people, and I wished that I had brought all of her stuff with me when we went to take the pictures. Just as it was time to leave, her teacher approached me. I apologized for the meltdown and reminded her that my daughter's anxiety might just prevent her participation in the recital next month. The teacher's face morphed into a look of pity, and then she quietly proceeded to inform me that I was the problem. My daughter would be fine if I hadn't worried about it. I was shocked. I numbly got my daughter changed and started driving home.

By the time I reached my home, my shock had turned to anger. I realize I have the tendency to be overprotective of my children, but my daughter was truly terrified. Her previous life experiences included trauma that leads to anxiety in new situations or places in which there are lots of people. This situation was both of those things. I did not create my daughter's trauma, and I certainly don't perpetuate it. In fact, my husband and I have worked very hard to help her come out of her shell and make great progress. Besides making me feel ashamed for my parenting skills and the behavior of my daughter, her teacher demonstrated to me just how uninformed people are about the realities of how trauma affects children's brains. My daughter was not embarrassed or shy or something like that; she was terrified. Her teacher knows my daughter's background, but she doesn't understand the implications. As much as I would like to think we have settled into being a "normal" family, there are some things that will be unique to us and incomprehensible for people outside of this type of experience.

What did I learn from this experience? I need to trust my instincts. Once it is clear my daughter is not ready for something, I need to be her advocate. I wouldn't make a child who suffers from PTSD because of a near-drowning experience swim in the deep end unaided; why would I expect a child who suffered trauma and is fearful of strangers to enjoy smiling in front of 30 people? Next time, I will be prepared to push my child to try new things but never to push until she breaks. She cried for one and a half hours that day, and it was 100% preventable.

What a difference a year makes! …or 15 months

I started this entry before the New Year…clearly I have been distracted!

At this time last year, I had just returned to work after my adoption leave. My youngest child was wearing 18 month/2T clothing at the age of 3, he didn't know his colors, couldn't use a spoon, and fell over every few steps. My daughter was covered in rashes and scabs from her anxiety and eczema, and she wouldn't go anywhere in public without being held (even though she was 4 1/2). My oldest son couldn't read and was the lowest kindergartener in his class. Throughout these 15 months, we have struggled with behavior, schedules, disabilities, health concerns, febrile seizes, and more, but we survived! 

Fast forward to March 2014. We are a "normal" family (most of the time). We have good days and bad days. There are temper tantrums, potty accidents, and sibling rivalry. There are cuddles, healthy children, and countless happy memories. Sometimes I feel so frustrated that I have to take a time out. Sometimes I feel so distracted that I leave two faucets running while I start putting away laundry with my toothbrush in my mouth. Sometimes I laugh so hard that I hurt and feel so much joy that I cry. 

Yes, my kids still have obstacles to overcome from their biology and the trauma they experienced before arriving, but we are doing very well. 

What a difference a year makes! 

Faith?

I have always been a worrier. I remember that when I started reading the Bible on my own (in middle school sometime), I immediately "claimed" verses that talk about anxiety, worry, and fear as my theme verses for my life. From 2010-2013, I experienced a lot of true heartache and toxic stress. I never lost my faith, but I was angry and bitter at times. I had to grieve. One night right before Thanksgiving of this year, I broke down and wept about my lack of trust, the amazing blessings I have, and how thankful I am for my journey. I vowed never to lose trust in God's plan - all the waiting was very worth finding my three kiddos.

Fast forward a few months. Here I am facing some extreme difficulties again (this time financial), and I am back to toxic stress. Yes, I know that no matter what happens, God will provide. We have a savings. We are both employed. We all have good insurance. I know that this too shall pass, so why do I still spend energy fretting? Does that reflect a lack of faith? If I say I know God will take care of us but I still worry, am I revealing that I really only trust when things are going well?

I began spending more time reading God's word over the summer (I hope to keep it up when I return to work next week), and I read story after story and promise after promise that God makes. I feel like I am being reminded that I am truly blessed beyond my wildest imagination and greatest dream. I love my family, job, friends, family, and I have enough. I will make it through whatever comes my way, and I just need to let go of the worrying. It ruins my day.

Faith

I admit that I have a high-strung personality, and I constantly operate with a state of stress running my life. I have always been like this, and it is my "normal." I am not sure I would ever get anything accomplished if I didn't  feel like this! It is the same type of stress that some people cite as reasoning for saving things until the eleventh hour. It motivates me and keeps me on track.

My current level of stress is something I cannot get used to. Waiting for the next task to complete in a series of tasks I have done over and over again, not knowing when my children will officially become mine, waiting to hear when I can meet them and bring them home. Add this on top of just the every day things (housework, parenting, groceries, school work), and I am tipping the scales of what I can handle. How am I supposed to get up each day and do what needs to be done while all I really can think about is my family? I feel like the right answer is to just have faith that things will work out for the best.

If I am honest with myself, the last two and a half years have been the biggest struggle I have ever had in my faith. I know the scriptures and cliches about waiting for God's perfect timing. They were quoted to me regularly over the last few years. I am supposed to be faithful and wait for everything to work out in a way that should overshadow all the pain and loss of the last chapter of my life. Once I have my family, I am suddenly supposed to feel thankful and joyous and understand why God chose to make my parenting journey such an intense struggle. I just don't believe this. God is good, and He is heartbroken as well. He is hurting because of our intense pain. He didn't decide my husband and I needed to learn a lesson or that we weren't good enough to be parents. Our babies died. God could have saved them, but that isn't what happened. He didn't make us lose our babies. I think the book Empty Arms  by Pam Vredevelt explained this best for me. After my first miscarriage, I was really struggling with people telling me that is just wasn't meant to be, and the timing must just not have been right. It made me feel like I was truly to blame for my miscarriage and that God didn't think we were ready. What a horrible way to make a person feel! I felt pressured to turn my frown upside down and pretend I was thankful that God was teaching me a lesson and causing my struggles. Some things just happen. God doesn't make them happen, but He allows them to happen. What we do with those struggles is what shapes us as a person.

So here I am, still waiting on my family. Worried that this will all fall through, for one reason or another, and that I will be back in a state of grief and loss, and stressed out to the max. I am trying to turn my fears over to God, but it is a risk. If I turn them over to Him and something bad happens, how will I process that? Will I feel like God is punishing me? Maybe it would just be better to avoid talking to God about it because then I don't have to worry about feeling abandoned. Am I supposed to act like I have no worries about everything going on, and that, no matter what happens, I will be full of thanks? The only thing I can do or control in this situation is to be honest with God and ask for His peace.

Father God, 

I don't know why things happen as they do. I am still hurting every day over many losses: my two babies, motherhood through pregnancy, passing on my genetics to my children (for better of worse), my innocence and joy related to pregnancy, the children I have fostered, and so much more. I refuse to believe that You would cause these struggles. I choose to believe You, as my loving Father, are hurting through all these things too. Even when I am silent for awhile, fearful of the future and putting my faith in You, You still love me and know everything I am feeling. You never leave my side. God, I need to release my stress to You and breath in Your love and peace. I ask that You intervene in our adoption process and help us jump through all the hoops we have in front of us. Renew my faith, and help me to be a witness to Your love and compassion despite my struggles.

Amen