Growing Family

So Many Things to Consider

As a parent is there ever a time where you are just coasting along, everyone in the family is perfectly well, and you can just cruise? In my experience those times happen, but not very often. They are mostly moments, rather than seasons.

Right now I am spending a lot of time thinking about each of my children (permanent and temporary). While B's needs are loudly in my face, and tugging at my clothes, there are things happening with my other children that I am also preoccupied with.

Today I want to talk about Small Sun and adoption. 

We are registered to attend the training seminar for Intercountry Adoption in November. Upon arriving home from Holland we learned that the Ethiopia program we were intending to pursue (even though it was temporarily on hold), has been officially closed. The Columbia program we considered (some Columbians have African heritage), has let us know we do not qualify for any of the programs. The local adoption program through foster care has discouraged us from applying because we are unsure we will be able to maintain the 4-6 a year, first family contact visits they require until the child is 18. 

We still have adoption options, mainly Taiwan and Hong Kong, but none that seem to include a child with African heritage.

When I sat the children down to explain this turn of events, Small Sun burst into heart wrenching sobs. Having a sibling that shares his ethnicity in some capacity is deeply, profoundly important to him. He is seven and has felt this way for years.

What do I do? How do I know, on the level of important things in his life, how important this is? 

I wish we could more easily see all the details of a child's heart to know what specifically they need, and how to provide it, assuming their needs are even things we have some measure of control over.

Living here, Small Sun is isolated in his adoption experience (we still don't know any other adoptees that could be his peers), and his ethnicity (he has one Jamaican/Caucasian friend who is three years younger than he is).

Our life is very diverse, but it does not reflect Small Sun's ethnicity. There are lots of children in our lives with brown skin, brown hair, and brown eyes, but to Small Sun, that doesn't matter because they don't share African heritage. They don't count in helping him feel surrounded and upheld by the community he identifies himself with.

I know I am opening myself up for criticism concerning our choices, but while your situation may contain different dynamics, I think this balancing act of parenting choices is one we can all identify with in some way.

How do you know how badly your child needs something, and how far do you go to meet that need*.

Small Sun wants more than a friend. He wants a sibling. He wants someone permanently in our family to share his experience being biracial with African roots in a white family. He can articulate it, he can ask for it, he can talk about it, he can voice it as a need he feels intensely. 

What should we do, I wonder? Would working harder to find friend and role models who share African heritage or adoption address, if not satisfy this need?

If nothing changes in our adoption status and this need isn't met, how much will it impact him?

If we were able to adopt a child with African heritage, would Small Sun's expectations and anticipation of them meeting this need in him set them up for a strenuous sibling relationship?

If we did something extreme like moving back to the U.S., and could pursue adoption much more easily, and instantly be exposed to African American culture, have access to adoptee support, and proximity to birth family, would the net gain of those things outweigh leaving behind a happy life here? For Small Sun? For all of us?

What should we do?

That's what I'm stuck on.

So as I'm putting B in the Ergo carrier on my back for the morning effort of getting us out the door, I'm also thinking about Small Sun and what should we do, what should we do, what should we do?

Last night I lay in his bed with him as he fell asleep, cocooned as usual in a pile of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals, with his face turned towards a picture of his birth family and his hand clutching a small soft blanket his birth mother made him. It is in those moments, nurturing your vulnerable child, that you feel you would do anything to make their world more happy, more secure, more right. If only the how was as clear as the desire.

*I think it should go without saying, that we WANT to adopt another child, period. We are not planning on adopting FOR Small Sun. Our decision to adopt is positive regardless, it is in WHO we adopt that we are really taking Small Sun's desires into consideration. I don't think it is ever fare to adopt a child to meet another person's needs. We want to adopt a child because of what we feel we can give them, by the grace of God, a life of love and security they might not have access to otherwise.

 

 

Notes from Thursday

"Acting grown-up is hard. It is, it is." 

This blog post is brought to you by the movie "The Land Before Time" which I am "watching" with Finch at the moment. B is taking his morning nap (which I am SO thankful for), and I am multitasking.

Multitasking seems to be my new MO.

We are having a problem here. The problem is that B seems to have a super-human radar for picking up when I WILL NOT be able to hold him, and making a beeline to hold my legs, tear at my clothes, and throw himself around in hysteria until I pick him up.

Holding his hand doesn't cut it. Setting him next to me on the counter doesn't cut it. Holding him on my lap while I do things doesn't work either. Unless I set aside what I'm doing, pick him up and focus on him for several minutes, until he calms, and then continue to hold him, he continues in an absolute meltdown. This meltdown isn't a tempermental child meltdown, or a hungry or cranky child throwing a fit, this is a traumatized meltdown. 

In the morning I get up and I need to put on my clothes. The crying starts.

I need to make my bed. The volume increases.

I hold him on my hip to brush my teeth, but by the time I need both hands to wash my face, he is beyond gone. As I put on my makeup and brush my hair he is throwing himself on my legs, which results in banging his head on the cabinet, and falling hard on the tile floor.

Yesterday The Captain was gone to work before the kids got up and B cried hard from when we got up, until we were in the car on the way to school. I tried to hold him as much as I could, but I was getting four kids out the door. I couldn't hold him the whole time.

The meltdowns stress the other kids out. They start yelling and fighting, and the whole atmosphere of the house becomes really tense. 

This morning, after The Captain left for work, we had about 20 minutes left before the school run. I ended up crying on the floor, trying to put on my shoes while B pummelled and stratched me, wanting me to stand up and rock him instead of offering to hold him on my lap while I put my shoes on.

The rest of the day goes better. That is, unless I need to wash the dishes. Meltdown.

Or make supper. Meltdown.

Or do homework with the big kids. Meltdown.

In between he does pretty well. We have built some nice moments laughing, tickling, playing, eating, and blowing bubbles. He loves to be outdoors, on walks, and in the park.

So there it is, that is what my house is like right now. With my mother in law returned home, I am pulling the daily load around here. 

I need help. I need a plan.

I am wondering if an Ergo carrier would be a good option? I could wear B on my back (he is a seriously chunky little dude, but I'd prefer the workout to the meltdown). Tag teaming the mornings with The Captain works well. It is when I'm on my own that things really spiral. 

I would really love suggestions, ideas, encouragement. I know this is all about attachment but that does't mean I know that I am doing the right thing, or that I have skin as thick as an elephant and this doesn't hurt me, or that I'm not worried about my other kids.

So book recommendations? Day spa reservations complete with total silence rooms, bring it on!

Adjusting

B has been with us for one week and we are...adusting. I've been thinking about writing alot of things, but betwen the non-stop needs of all four little people, and sorting through what I can and cannot say, well...

First of all, this week has gone so much better than it would have otherwise because my mother in law is here, and has carried my kids through the week with flying colors! I have been hard pressed to manage with B, let alone meet my kid's needs, and she has really smoothed that over, tirelessly reading stories, playing "shop" and attending Finch's rather painful "hair salon". Thank Mam!

Once again our friends have rallied around us and offered support in the practical ways that make all the difference, and the relational ways that lift spirits when we're lagging!

B is a champion. He has been through so much, and his experience in foster care has been a bit bumpy with multiple moves (having nothing to do with him, but because that's just the way things go with pre-arranged holidays for the carers, etc).

With B we can see the effects of his early challenges much more clearly than with Baby A or the girls. He exhibits some behaviors that I would expect from a child that has been institutionalized. Seeing those behaviors in my home, contrasted by my healthy, happy, attached kids is a bit of a shock. I am not totally equipped to know if I am doing the right things, or how to help him best.

The first 24 hours was rough. It was kind of one rolling melt-down. A meltdown that involves hitting, scratching, and near primal-fear and emotional pain. 

CHILDREN SHOULD NOT BE MOVED AROUND LIKE BOXES.

More than anything else has so far, foster care is convincing me of the value of adoption. A child should not experience trauma, move, attach, move, attach, move, attach... I believe that asking a child to attach and move over and over steadily breaks them down and reduces their chances at securing a good quality of life in the future. Children need stability. They need permanence.

The fact that B will have to do this all again...it is just wrong. I don't know if he will be able.

If children can't stay with their family, for whatever reason, they should be placed in a new permanent family as soon as possible, with as few pit stops in between!

I'm saying all that because I don't know how to talk about what I am seeing with B. This is a tough one. We are pulling heavy on Grace.

 

What a Ride

I think we are becoming those people that I never understood. Those people that were going, going, and going next to me while I was moving in slow motion.

We arrived back from Holland on Thursday morning (more on our trip later), and The Captain went to work Thursday afternoon and Friday. Saturday morning he left the house as six a.m. to fly to Melbourne for a colleague's wedding, returning home Sunday afternoon, just in time to help me do a quick house clean before Little B came with his carer to become familiar with our house again.

This morning we had a play date with three friends, and now we have an hour of downtime before going to pick B up to bring him home to stay with us. He'll be with us until his case is processed through court and he goes back to biological family, or finds a new forever family.

My MIL arrives at six a.m. tomorrow so The Captain will leave home at five to pick her up, bring her home, and head out to be at his 8:30 a.m. meeting in the city.

Before adopting Small Sun, and again before having The Sprout, the whole world came to a complete stop in anticipation of welcoming this little life. With Finch we slowed down, but had to just jump back onto the carousel with him.

With Baby A (foster child #1), we didn't even know he was coming! The preparation included running through Big W (Walmart) on the way home from school, tipping the entire contents of the baby aisles into our cart. He slept in a carseat next to our bed for some time!

For the girls (foster children #2,3), we made up their sleeping spaces, and laid out their clothes, and put appropriate baby food in the cupboard, and sterilized the bottles. As for life slowing down, it couldn't with two children in school! They just had to roll with us!

Now, with B (foster child #4), we've had some time to plan for him. We've made him his own bedroom with art on the walls, handmade crib bedding, and drawers full of toys. The diapers, wipes, and clean clothes are all in the cupboard. We are on school holiday for the rest of the week so the time will be his to adjust.

All these placements are temporary, and according to The Rules, none of these children will end up staying in our family. Even so, I have this feeling each time that I have to savor every moment. What if, somehow, this child eventually became mine and I hadn't given due gravity to the meeting, the transition, the entrance to the family?

It kind of messes up my head and my heart. Yesterday we were hurried and tired, and felt like taking naps, but I kept thinking "what if this is 'the night before B joined our family'". Talking to his carer, my ears strained for details and I thought "what if these are the clues I have about his history, and his life before us?"

I have to hold these children very loosely in the hand. They are not mine. I do not make the decisions for their futures. They are coming and going and experiencing many things that I would not be comfortable with if they were "my" kids. I can offer an opinion when it is requested, but I defer, I support, I love and let go.

If they were my children I would fight, I would circle the caravans, I would go on lock down to make attachment the priority, I would recognize the awe of all the"firsts" within the family.

How do you plan family vacations when you don't know how long a child will be staying?

Do I imagine B's presents under the Christmas tree? Do I get him a stocking?

Do I let him all the way into my heart?

I never know how long they'll stay. I never know what loving them will require. I never know if I'll be able to do it. I never know how hard it will be at goodbye. I never know what happens next.

All I know is that in twenty two minutes we'll get in the car, and I'll rearrange the seats to put one more car seat in, and tonight there will be a highchair at the table, and a new little boy sitting in it. Past that, I just don't know.