To my crazy boys on the night before your adoption,
Dad keeps saying we're going to be a hot mess tomorrow. Well, the joke's on him because I'm already a mess.
There are so many things I want you to know and remember about the day before we finalized your adoption. I want you to know that I barely held it together today when we gave you the special family shirts we will wear to court tomorrow. And that when I told you that after tomorrow you will never be in foster care again – that you will never be foster kids again – my words caught in my throat for a second because I think those were just about the happiest words I've spoken in my life.
I want you to know that tomorrow simultaneously changes everything and nothing at all. After tomorrow we will have a single name that identifies us. Dad and I won't have to ask anyone else if we can send you on a field trip, take you to a certain doctor, send you to your grandparents' house, or take you on vacation. I won't need to write "foster mom" on forms, I'll just sign them as your mom. These are important things to me.
More important though, I want you to know that this changes nothing about the love I have for you as my sons or the daily life we share as a family. Ask me anytime about the day I first learned your names, or the day I met you when your faces were etched into my heart forever. I will gladly hold your hand and tell you about the day you rocked my world. I will tell you that I knew you were mine even then, and no piece of paper or last name could alter that. My love for you is a force to be reckoned with, and I have and will use that force to protect you for the rest of my life. I don't need DNA or a judge's ruling to promise you that.
Tomorrow will solidify in your minds the special place you hold in my heart and my family, and I cherish that. I want you to be secure in your place in this family, that you will never have to leave. I want you to know that everything I do is for your well being, even when I get it wrong. I want you to know that the only people who love you more than God, Dad, and me are your grandparents. I know this because of the way they love Dad and me and have done everything for our good.
I want you to know that life will move on somewhat normally for you after tomorrow. You may not notice a big change, and that's the way it should be. Tomorrow does not mark the day you became my sons. You have been my crazy boys from the day I met you and this will continue to be true forever. Tomorrow is the day this fact goes on public record: We are a family. Forever.
I could not imagine a more wonderful love story than ours. I would not change a single thing about our life together. All the chaos and calm, the meltdowns and precious memories. I love it all because we're living it together.
You boys and Dad are my whole world. I would take a stormy day with you boys over a sunny one with anyone else. Sometimes I still can't believe how blessed I am to have the privilege of being your mama, but I am honored.
Love you forever,
Mama
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 04, 2015
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
#facepalm Part 2
Seriously, you guys. So much facepalming happens in the Young house.
One time at breakfast we were all drinking smoothies. All of
a sudden, D turns his cup upside down on his lap and then freaks out. When we
asked him why he did that he said “I just wanted to see what would happen.”
#facepalm
----------------
Andy: “Did you hear what I said?”
D: “Yeah.”
Andy: “What did I say?”
D: “You said ‘Don’t forget…blah blah blah blah’”
----------------
LM:
Mama, can I text Gigi?
Me: Sure. *hand him my phone*
LM: How do you spell "bring me some presents"?
Me: Sure. *hand him my phone*
LM: How do you spell "bring me some presents"?
----------------
D, pointing to a kid at school “He is my BEST BEST BEST
friend in the whole world!!!”
Me: “Cool! What’s his name?”
D: “Ummm, I don’t know.”
----------------
Andy: “Where did that sticker go?”
Little Man: “…Sometimes I like to eat paper.”
----------------
Andy: “Don’t forget to use soap in the shower.”
S: “Ok!”
*after shower
Andy: “Did you use
soap?”
S: “No, because
we’re out of soap.”
----------------
One morning I noticed that my makeup brush had
been shaved. I asked what happened and D said he shaved the top off with Andy’s
beard trimmer. Why, you ask? “I wanted to see what would happen.”
#facepalm
#facepalm
----------------
Quick Update: We have officially finished ALL the forms, evaluations, reviews, home study documents, hoop-jumping, and all other madness that goes into getting ready for the state to approve an adoption. Now we wait. DCFS has to sign off on all the above-mentioned hoopla and then we get a court date. Praying for a summer adoption party -- everyone's invited!
Monday, November 24, 2014
The Full Story
November is National Adoption Month, and every adoption-related blog or Facebook page I follow seems to be posting about it. (Side note: if you're looking for two particularly stellar posts, check out this one from an adoptive mom, and this one from an adult adoptee).
I love seeing all these adoption-related articles and posts flying around the internet. But it also creates this intense struggle within me. Nothing has made me examine my thoughts on adoption, or my theology of adoption, so much as this process we are in. Obviously, as being actively involved in something causes your opinions to change or evolve around the reality as you live it.
Almost two years ago, I wrote a post about the conflicting emotions I have about foster care and adoption. I wrote "...in the months to come, I expect to grieve and I hope to celebrate. These things will happen hand-in-hand, in bittersweet moments. My heart will both break and rejoice as I welcome children into my home when they have just been ripped from theirs."
I look back on that and realize that is more true than I could ever have imagined. My feelings and thoughts about adoption, birth families, transracial parenting, openness are so hard to define and equally difficult to explain.
I love foster care and adoption with a broken love, because they are broken things. Angela Tucker calls it "a necessary solution to an unfortunate need."
I believe in first families, reconciliation, and orphan prevention as a first option. But I believe that protecting children from harm is equally important. Two number one priorities. This is something too large to cover in one post spanning all types of adoption, so I'll stick with foster care, because that is my reality.
There are a lot of things I hate (yes, hate) about the foster care system, but the priority for reunification is not one of them. In some cases, it is considered the goal long after it should not be. However, in many cases, these parents are raising their children in the only way they know how, the exact way they were treated by their own parents. The foster care system exists to come alongside and break that cycle. It certainly does not do it perfectly, but that is the goal.
The hard part is where to draw the line in the sand, set a deadline, and say it's too late. Because the truth is these children are growing up in the system – my children were growing up in the system – waiting. Waiting for the cycle to be broken so they could go back home. But it never was; it still isn't. So, adoption is the second option, and here we are.
My family is beautiful, but it's a beauty born out of brokenness.
So often, though, I think the story of adoption gets cut short here. They are adopted, the end. Happy Day. But that's not the end of the story. The story of my children and their first family is not over. We cannot act as though their birth families do not exist, or will not continue to exist in reality or in their minds. Not only would that not allow them to truly heal from what they have experienced, but it would invalidate who they are. My children would not be here without their birth parents, they would not be who they are without them.
The other day the boys and I were eating dinner and Little Man said, "I wish I had two moms." (This comment came out of some confusion about a friend of his who calls her grandmother and mother both some form of mom.) I was a little conflicted about what to say at first, but after a few seconds, I told him the absolute truth. "You do have to moms." I explained to him that he has a mom whose belly he grew inside of and he also has me who he lives with now.
Here's the thing, LM does not have memories of his birth mom like his older brothers do, so it would have been so easy to dismiss this statement in a light-hearted way "sorry kiddo, your stuck with just me!" But that's not the truth. And, while the truth is much more complicated than all I told him that day, I always want him to know about his birth mom. When he is old enough to understand more about his birth mom, he will hear more about her, from us and from his brothers. And some day, if he wants to meet her face to face, we will do everything we can to make that happen as well, while still considering his safety. The same is true for our older boys.
We will never be silent about their birth family, or try to stifle their feelings or memories of them. Because adopting our boys doesn't mean that we are their only family now, it means we are added to the family they already had, and that is the full story.
I love seeing all these adoption-related articles and posts flying around the internet. But it also creates this intense struggle within me. Nothing has made me examine my thoughts on adoption, or my theology of adoption, so much as this process we are in. Obviously, as being actively involved in something causes your opinions to change or evolve around the reality as you live it.
Almost two years ago, I wrote a post about the conflicting emotions I have about foster care and adoption. I wrote "...in the months to come, I expect to grieve and I hope to celebrate. These things will happen hand-in-hand, in bittersweet moments. My heart will both break and rejoice as I welcome children into my home when they have just been ripped from theirs."
I look back on that and realize that is more true than I could ever have imagined. My feelings and thoughts about adoption, birth families, transracial parenting, openness are so hard to define and equally difficult to explain.
I love foster care and adoption with a broken love, because they are broken things. Angela Tucker calls it "a necessary solution to an unfortunate need."
I believe in first families, reconciliation, and orphan prevention as a first option. But I believe that protecting children from harm is equally important. Two number one priorities. This is something too large to cover in one post spanning all types of adoption, so I'll stick with foster care, because that is my reality.
There are a lot of things I hate (yes, hate) about the foster care system, but the priority for reunification is not one of them. In some cases, it is considered the goal long after it should not be. However, in many cases, these parents are raising their children in the only way they know how, the exact way they were treated by their own parents. The foster care system exists to come alongside and break that cycle. It certainly does not do it perfectly, but that is the goal.
The hard part is where to draw the line in the sand, set a deadline, and say it's too late. Because the truth is these children are growing up in the system – my children were growing up in the system – waiting. Waiting for the cycle to be broken so they could go back home. But it never was; it still isn't. So, adoption is the second option, and here we are.
My family is beautiful, but it's a beauty born out of brokenness.
So often, though, I think the story of adoption gets cut short here. They are adopted, the end. Happy Day. But that's not the end of the story. The story of my children and their first family is not over. We cannot act as though their birth families do not exist, or will not continue to exist in reality or in their minds. Not only would that not allow them to truly heal from what they have experienced, but it would invalidate who they are. My children would not be here without their birth parents, they would not be who they are without them.
The other day the boys and I were eating dinner and Little Man said, "I wish I had two moms." (This comment came out of some confusion about a friend of his who calls her grandmother and mother both some form of mom.) I was a little conflicted about what to say at first, but after a few seconds, I told him the absolute truth. "You do have to moms." I explained to him that he has a mom whose belly he grew inside of and he also has me who he lives with now.
Here's the thing, LM does not have memories of his birth mom like his older brothers do, so it would have been so easy to dismiss this statement in a light-hearted way "sorry kiddo, your stuck with just me!" But that's not the truth. And, while the truth is much more complicated than all I told him that day, I always want him to know about his birth mom. When he is old enough to understand more about his birth mom, he will hear more about her, from us and from his brothers. And some day, if he wants to meet her face to face, we will do everything we can to make that happen as well, while still considering his safety. The same is true for our older boys.
We will never be silent about their birth family, or try to stifle their feelings or memories of them. Because adopting our boys doesn't mean that we are their only family now, it means we are added to the family they already had, and that is the full story.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
It Takes Time
Today marks the one-year anniversary of the day Little Man moved in with us and made us a family of five. That little boy is celebrating the day by puking his guts out. Subsequently I am celebrating by cleaning puke out of our mattress, his hair, my clothes, the rug, and anything else within spit radius. (Please feel free to feel simultaneously happy and grossed out for us.)
Tomorrow will start the new school year, something we've actually done with all three boys before. For the first time we're repeating life events with them. We've been school shopping before, met new teachers, signed them up for sports. It feels like we're starting to get into a rhythm, in some ways. But in many others we're still flying blind, and the constant refrain is "it takes time."
The adoption process takes time. We're getting there. We've been told by our adoption lawyer and our caseworker that it is very likely we can get it all wrapped up by the end of this year. We go to court again in mid-September and we will hopefully get some more details. We're excited for this process to come to a close, but when it does there are still other things that will take time.
The other day I told a friend that I'm happy that the first thing people think about my children is not "they are so traumatized," because that means that they are healing and their scars don't show all the time (we've come a long way from anxiety meltdowns in Target). But, those scars are there. And some things have to get worse before they can get better.
Healing is happening for them. The boys are trusting more and feeling secure as members of our family. But they have a long road ahead of them. Just because you can't see their scars doesn't mean they aren't there. Anxiety attacks and behavioral issues are still a regular part of our lives, but they aren't happening in a vacuum with no cause. These things are the effects of years of trauma.
Andy and I are fixers. We're constantly trying to figure out what we can do to help the boys learn, understand, process, heal. I'm researching, all the time, methods that we can implement to provide more felt security or to reduce anxiety. We want so badly to take this pain and confusion away. But the truth is, these things take time.
So, as much as it may seem like the Young household should be "business as usual" now after a year, our "usual" looks different from a lot of families, and it's just going to take time.
Tomorrow will start the new school year, something we've actually done with all three boys before. For the first time we're repeating life events with them. We've been school shopping before, met new teachers, signed them up for sports. It feels like we're starting to get into a rhythm, in some ways. But in many others we're still flying blind, and the constant refrain is "it takes time."
The adoption process takes time. We're getting there. We've been told by our adoption lawyer and our caseworker that it is very likely we can get it all wrapped up by the end of this year. We go to court again in mid-September and we will hopefully get some more details. We're excited for this process to come to a close, but when it does there are still other things that will take time.
The other day I told a friend that I'm happy that the first thing people think about my children is not "they are so traumatized," because that means that they are healing and their scars don't show all the time (we've come a long way from anxiety meltdowns in Target). But, those scars are there. And some things have to get worse before they can get better.
Healing is happening for them. The boys are trusting more and feeling secure as members of our family. But they have a long road ahead of them. Just because you can't see their scars doesn't mean they aren't there. Anxiety attacks and behavioral issues are still a regular part of our lives, but they aren't happening in a vacuum with no cause. These things are the effects of years of trauma.
Andy and I are fixers. We're constantly trying to figure out what we can do to help the boys learn, understand, process, heal. I'm researching, all the time, methods that we can implement to provide more felt security or to reduce anxiety. We want so badly to take this pain and confusion away. But the truth is, these things take time.
So, as much as it may seem like the Young household should be "business as usual" now after a year, our "usual" looks different from a lot of families, and it's just going to take time.
Thanks for continuing to pray for us, think about us, read this little blog, and ask us how it's going. We love and appreciate you all.
Thursday, May 01, 2014
I Can't Believe We've Made It Here
Lately, when we come to the end of a week, I think (and often say to Andy) with relief...I can't believe we've made it here, to the end of this week!
To be honest, in this calendar year there have been more weeks that I have thought and said that than not. We've weathered some really rough storms in the last few months as we walk with the boys through this part of their healing. I thought 2013 was the most challenging (and simultaneously the most wonderful) year of my life, until February 2014 knocked down our door and obliterated the record for Most Challenging Year previously set by its predecessor.
But then something amazing happened that also obliterated the Most Wonderful Year record that 2013 previously held.
We went to court in March, one year after the big boys' move to our house, and we found out that the birth parents had signed consents early that week for us to adopt the boys, releasing all of their rights. That day in court, I couldn't believe we'd made it there, to that monumental step.
Now we are officially in the process of adopting all three boys! It will likely take several more months, but we're hoping finalization will happen before the end of the year, and then 2014 will definitely take the record. On that day I'm sure I'll say the same thing...I can't believe we've made it here, to adoption day.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
There's an Army Man in my Medicine Cabinet
The last time I (Andy) posted anything on a blog was when Xanga was cool - so bear with me. I've been told that I write like I talk so feel free to respond and interact verbally while you read this.
The army man may or may not be mine but the fact remains that there is a an army man on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet in our master bathroom and I didn't put it there. He's been there for at least a month a half and I don't see him retreating back to base camp anytime soon. It has been such a gigantic life change to go from being just the two of us to the now family of five that we are. (Wow! I still can barely believe it!)
I can't help but look back over the past ten months and try and list the hundreds of changes that have happened in our life. Bigger house, bigger car, more toys, the seemingly million appointments every month, lack of personal space, and the list goes on and on. But for every one change in our life there's a hundred for each of our boys. Between our three boys they have lived in eight different homes, they have attended three different school districts, they've had countless caregivers, and their list goes on and on and on.
These boys, our boys, are our life now. We can't remember what our life was like before them and we don't care to know. Of all the places they have lived ours is different because we will, God willing, be their last home as children. Ours is different because they are healing here. Ours is different because they can call us dad and mom. And one of the many things these boys need is to be somebody's life. They need to be in a place where they can leave toys everywhere because it's their house too. Building in basic security, that a lot of us got as kids growing up not even realizing it, is what we do most often with our boys.
This is what's been on my heart lately because this is a really tough part of foster care and adoption. It's easy to forget that the boys are stuck in survival mode sometimes and that makes it frustrating for us.
So here's an update on where we are at with our adoption process. We went to court today for what we thought was going to be a kind of pretrial. It was actually just a time to set up the termination hearing. It could have been more than that if the birth parents had decided that they wanted to voluntarily consent to our adoption. So now we await the termination hearing which lasts for a day and a half and its decided whether or not to terminate their parental rights. The birth parents can still consent as late as the day of the hearing.
This is a very strange and difficult spot for us and we would appreciate your prayers. Pray that we can navigate our feelings and have the wisdom to guide our precious and fragile boys through this process. Even though we try on our own too often, we know that God's plan will be the last say.
This is a very strange and difficult spot for us and we would appreciate your prayers. Pray that we can navigate our feelings and have the wisdom to guide our precious and fragile boys through this process. Even though we try on our own too often, we know that God's plan will be the last say.
Thursday, January 09, 2014
What I Hear
I believe most people are well-intentioned. However, I also believe people tend to be under-informed about things they do not consider normal. For my family, this generally results in awkward or unintentionally rude comments from others. Because our family situation is different from the majority in many ways, I know that people ask questions to understand (and sometimes just to be nosy); but sometimes the language that people use actually ends up being a little insensitive and therefore communicates something other than what they mean.
Here are some questions I hear often that generally tend to communicate more than just a desire for understanding.
You say: "Why are they in foster care?" or "Why were they taken from their birth parents?"
I hear: "Tell me your family's darkest secrets."
I would encourage anyone thinking of asking this question of any foster parent to ask themselves why they want to know this information. Unless you will be directly interacting with foster children in a way that would make it necessary for you to know some of that information in order to anticipate any special needs (consistently providing child care, etc), there is no reason to ask this question. Bonus, foster parents actually can't share details of their children's case. Personally, even if I was, it's not my story to tell, so I will respect my children's privacy.
Try instead: Not asking a question like this. Case information is shared on a need-to-know basis, and chances are, most people don't need to know.
You say: "Are you going to have your own children?"
I hear: "The family you have now is not legitimate."
These children are my children. A comment like this undermines all that we have built together as a family in the time we have had each other. This is a highly offensive comment. However we choose to bring children into our family in the future will not change the legitimacy of any of my other children. They will all be mine. Because I chose them to be.
Try instead: One of those annoying "normal" questions people ask parents, like: Are you going to have any more children?
You say: "Are they REAL brothers?"
I hear: "Biology makes REAL family, adoption does not."
This question is tricky. I guess I can understand why people want to know if kids are siblings in foster care, but I know that this is also a common question for post-adoptive families. If considering asking this question to an adoptive family, again, ask yourself why you want to know. What is the purpose of having this information? My answer is this, for us now and post-adoption: The boys are biological brothers, but regardless, these children are real children, they have real fights over real toys, they experience real love in our real home. We are their real parents. So yeah, they are real brothers.
Try instead: Asking questions about the family's adoption stories. Chances are, they will be more than happy to share.
You say: "When will they be yours?"
I hear: "When will you stop pretending to be a family and really become one?"
Again, I understand the sentiment behind this question; however, we live every day as a family and view these children as ours. Their adoption day will be a joyful one, but it will not change anything about the day-to-day of our family life, or how I love my children.
Try instead: "When will the adoptions be finalized?" or "Where are you at in the adoption process?"
If you have said one of these things to me, please know that I am not offended. As I said, I know that most people are well-intentioned. But I do want people to become more aware of the language they use and what that communicates to others. The underlying theme of many of these statements is that our family is not "normal," which may be true in some ways. But just because we did not become a family in the "normal" way does not mean we aren't a family.
Finally, please do not ask these types of questions in front of any children you may be asking about. Again, these types of questions make a point of highlighting the "unusual" things about foster and adoptive families, and most of the time it feels negative. In some situations (I'm thinking of my own children), this may serve to undermine the security these children have in their families. This is not because an adoptive family is less of a family, but because when someone makes a big deal out of something about you that is different, it tends to make you insecure.
My family is beautiful. And I love to talk about my children. I don't even mind answering questions about the foster care system. But I do prefer those questions to be asked in a way that reinforces the fact that we are a real family, because that's what we are.
Here are some questions I hear often that generally tend to communicate more than just a desire for understanding.
You say: "Why are they in foster care?" or "Why were they taken from their birth parents?"
I hear: "Tell me your family's darkest secrets."
I would encourage anyone thinking of asking this question of any foster parent to ask themselves why they want to know this information. Unless you will be directly interacting with foster children in a way that would make it necessary for you to know some of that information in order to anticipate any special needs (consistently providing child care, etc), there is no reason to ask this question. Bonus, foster parents actually can't share details of their children's case. Personally, even if I was, it's not my story to tell, so I will respect my children's privacy.
Try instead: Not asking a question like this. Case information is shared on a need-to-know basis, and chances are, most people don't need to know.
You say: "Are you going to have your own children?"
I hear: "The family you have now is not legitimate."
These children are my children. A comment like this undermines all that we have built together as a family in the time we have had each other. This is a highly offensive comment. However we choose to bring children into our family in the future will not change the legitimacy of any of my other children. They will all be mine. Because I chose them to be.
Try instead: One of those annoying "normal" questions people ask parents, like: Are you going to have any more children?
You say: "Are they REAL brothers?"
I hear: "Biology makes REAL family, adoption does not."
This question is tricky. I guess I can understand why people want to know if kids are siblings in foster care, but I know that this is also a common question for post-adoptive families. If considering asking this question to an adoptive family, again, ask yourself why you want to know. What is the purpose of having this information? My answer is this, for us now and post-adoption: The boys are biological brothers, but regardless, these children are real children, they have real fights over real toys, they experience real love in our real home. We are their real parents. So yeah, they are real brothers.
Try instead: Asking questions about the family's adoption stories. Chances are, they will be more than happy to share.
You say: "When will they be yours?"
I hear: "When will you stop pretending to be a family and really become one?"
Again, I understand the sentiment behind this question; however, we live every day as a family and view these children as ours. Their adoption day will be a joyful one, but it will not change anything about the day-to-day of our family life, or how I love my children.
Try instead: "When will the adoptions be finalized?" or "Where are you at in the adoption process?"
If you have said one of these things to me, please know that I am not offended. As I said, I know that most people are well-intentioned. But I do want people to become more aware of the language they use and what that communicates to others. The underlying theme of many of these statements is that our family is not "normal," which may be true in some ways. But just because we did not become a family in the "normal" way does not mean we aren't a family.
Finally, please do not ask these types of questions in front of any children you may be asking about. Again, these types of questions make a point of highlighting the "unusual" things about foster and adoptive families, and most of the time it feels negative. In some situations (I'm thinking of my own children), this may serve to undermine the security these children have in their families. This is not because an adoptive family is less of a family, but because when someone makes a big deal out of something about you that is different, it tends to make you insecure.
My family is beautiful. And I love to talk about my children. I don't even mind answering questions about the foster care system. But I do prefer those questions to be asked in a way that reinforces the fact that we are a real family, because that's what we are.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
"Because I Always Come Back"
I know a lot of people are wondering what's going on since the hearing last month, so I want to give a brief update on that before I get to the thing I actually want to say.
The short summary is that the boys' birth mom decided not to consent to our adoption, which means the case will go to trial for the termination of parental rights. The pre-trial is scheduled for late January. There will be another opportunity for the birth parents to consent to the adoption at pre-trial, but if that doesn't happen a termination hearing will be scheduled after that. We do not know how long it will take for this process to be complete, and after this process we have the adoption process to complete as well. It may be a long road, but we are in it for the long haul.
Also, for those who may interact with the boys, here's what they know: We love them very much, and we go to court to tell the judge how much we love them and how much we want them to be in our family forever. They obviously know that something went wrong in their birth home that made it so they couldn't live there. If you are ever around the boys when adoption or their birth family comes up, please, please do not speak negatively about their birth family. You also don't have to feel strange about it if they talk about anyone from their bio family in front of you -- this is their reality. Their family includes both their birth family and us, and it is not "off limits" to talk about their birth family or their life before they lived with us.
So there's an update on the legal process, and here's an update on our life in general...
There are a lot of emotional issues that we have to deal with, raising our boys who have experienced so much loss and trauma. I do a lot of research, a lot of planning, a lot of analyzing. We really try to be intentional with the way we parent the boys to address the heart issues of what is going on in their grief-ridden minds and hearts. Inevitably, however, things slip through the cracks. Moments pass by that could have been an excellent moment to reinforce healing or safety, and I totally miss them. But that's fine, because I'm human...and because I have a partner in this crazy thing called parenting. And my partner is a straight-up rockstar, and he seizes moments that I am too crazed or too distracted to see.
The boys experience a lot of anxiety when one or both of us has to go somewhere (let's be clear, if we both go somewhere there is a babysitter here with them). We always make sure to tell them where we are going, when we are coming back, what we are doing, etc, to prepare them for this disruption in their new-found stability. Still, this tends to rock them and leave them feeling upset.
Anyway, one evening Andy was getting ready to go to work (night shift, boo!) and Little Man was getting super upset about it, as per usual. And then, BAM!, my husband went into rockstar mode and turned this moment into an opportunity to speak love into our boys' deep insecurities. The conversation went like this:
Little Man: "DADDY, I NOT WANT YOU GO TO WORK!!!"
Andy: "I know, but I'm going to come back. You want to know why?"
LM: "Why?"
Andy: "Because I always come back."
LM: "Why?"
Andy: "Because I love you."
Because I always come back.
This may seem to be one of those things that goes without saying, but to our children, who have lived the majority of their lives with no stability at all, with ever-changing caregivers, with no concept of safety, this is a vitally important fact to communicate.
Since that day, we say this every day to our children, anytime we go somewhere without them. We have them repeat it back to us, so we know that they understand that we are coming back to them, that we care for them, and that we will be here to keep them safe.
This has certainly not erased all of their anxiety, but it has gone a long way to encourage their growing trust in us, which is a great step.
The short summary is that the boys' birth mom decided not to consent to our adoption, which means the case will go to trial for the termination of parental rights. The pre-trial is scheduled for late January. There will be another opportunity for the birth parents to consent to the adoption at pre-trial, but if that doesn't happen a termination hearing will be scheduled after that. We do not know how long it will take for this process to be complete, and after this process we have the adoption process to complete as well. It may be a long road, but we are in it for the long haul.
Also, for those who may interact with the boys, here's what they know: We love them very much, and we go to court to tell the judge how much we love them and how much we want them to be in our family forever. They obviously know that something went wrong in their birth home that made it so they couldn't live there. If you are ever around the boys when adoption or their birth family comes up, please, please do not speak negatively about their birth family. You also don't have to feel strange about it if they talk about anyone from their bio family in front of you -- this is their reality. Their family includes both their birth family and us, and it is not "off limits" to talk about their birth family or their life before they lived with us.
So there's an update on the legal process, and here's an update on our life in general...
There are a lot of emotional issues that we have to deal with, raising our boys who have experienced so much loss and trauma. I do a lot of research, a lot of planning, a lot of analyzing. We really try to be intentional with the way we parent the boys to address the heart issues of what is going on in their grief-ridden minds and hearts. Inevitably, however, things slip through the cracks. Moments pass by that could have been an excellent moment to reinforce healing or safety, and I totally miss them. But that's fine, because I'm human...and because I have a partner in this crazy thing called parenting. And my partner is a straight-up rockstar, and he seizes moments that I am too crazed or too distracted to see.
The boys experience a lot of anxiety when one or both of us has to go somewhere (let's be clear, if we both go somewhere there is a babysitter here with them). We always make sure to tell them where we are going, when we are coming back, what we are doing, etc, to prepare them for this disruption in their new-found stability. Still, this tends to rock them and leave them feeling upset.
Anyway, one evening Andy was getting ready to go to work (night shift, boo!) and Little Man was getting super upset about it, as per usual. And then, BAM!, my husband went into rockstar mode and turned this moment into an opportunity to speak love into our boys' deep insecurities. The conversation went like this:
Little Man: "DADDY, I NOT WANT YOU GO TO WORK!!!"
Andy: "I know, but I'm going to come back. You want to know why?"
LM: "Why?"
Andy: "Because I always come back."
LM: "Why?"
Andy: "Because I love you."
Because I always come back.
This may seem to be one of those things that goes without saying, but to our children, who have lived the majority of their lives with no stability at all, with ever-changing caregivers, with no concept of safety, this is a vitally important fact to communicate.
Since that day, we say this every day to our children, anytime we go somewhere without them. We have them repeat it back to us, so we know that they understand that we are coming back to them, that we care for them, and that we will be here to keep them safe.
This has certainly not erased all of their anxiety, but it has gone a long way to encourage their growing trust in us, which is a great step.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Dear Loved Ones
Let me be clear: God led me to this place, the place of foster care and all that comes with it. But, He used two families in particular, ten individuals, in my life to get me here. To say these people have a special place in my heart would be a gross understatement.
To the People who helped lead me here, and keep me going:
I'm not entirely sure how to accurately describe the role you all have played in my life to this point, and the one you continue to play now -- You, the brave people that climbed the mountain I am beginning to scale, who are standing on the other side speaking encouragement into my journey. There are so many ways that you have influenced my life and my family, and I am so thankful.
Thank you for making foster care and adoption a completely normal part of my life and family growing up. This was the first brick laid on the road that brought me here. Thank you for affirming the notion that family is not limited to shared DNA, and for displaying how families could grow in other ways than in the womb.
Thank you for inviting me in to your family and your life -- your real life. For giving me a front-row seat into the messiness that is parenthood in the foster care system and post-adoption. For showing me that there's very little romance in foster care and adoption, but it's still one of the most beautiful and redeeming things anyone could ever experience. This helped me to have more realistic expectations for what I was walking in to, but also allowed me to be certain that I would never regret it.
Thank you for trusting me enough to allow me to spend time with your children, as their babysitter and their family member. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be family to these children who came to us in a "different" way. This altered my life.
Thank you for walking ahead of us in this, for being the faithful example for us to look to. Thank you for the encouragement you have provided to me now as I try to sort through the wonderful chaos that is our life. This serves to uplift my spirit in the overwhelming moments.
There are countless other things I am grateful for, having you all in my life. The other day I read an article about adoption where the author stated, "No one adopts a child in a historical vacuum. There is always a backstory behind the decision to adopt."
You all are my backstory. Thank you.
To the People who helped lead me here, and keep me going:
I'm not entirely sure how to accurately describe the role you all have played in my life to this point, and the one you continue to play now -- You, the brave people that climbed the mountain I am beginning to scale, who are standing on the other side speaking encouragement into my journey. There are so many ways that you have influenced my life and my family, and I am so thankful.
Thank you for making foster care and adoption a completely normal part of my life and family growing up. This was the first brick laid on the road that brought me here. Thank you for affirming the notion that family is not limited to shared DNA, and for displaying how families could grow in other ways than in the womb.
Thank you for inviting me in to your family and your life -- your real life. For giving me a front-row seat into the messiness that is parenthood in the foster care system and post-adoption. For showing me that there's very little romance in foster care and adoption, but it's still one of the most beautiful and redeeming things anyone could ever experience. This helped me to have more realistic expectations for what I was walking in to, but also allowed me to be certain that I would never regret it.
Thank you for trusting me enough to allow me to spend time with your children, as their babysitter and their family member. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be family to these children who came to us in a "different" way. This altered my life.
Thank you for walking ahead of us in this, for being the faithful example for us to look to. Thank you for the encouragement you have provided to me now as I try to sort through the wonderful chaos that is our life. This serves to uplift my spirit in the overwhelming moments.
There are countless other things I am grateful for, having you all in my life. The other day I read an article about adoption where the author stated, "No one adopts a child in a historical vacuum. There is always a backstory behind the decision to adopt."
You all are my backstory. Thank you.
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