It is a process

It's a physical ache. A pain in the middle of my chest.  And it causes hot tears, the kind that sting my eyes.  It settled over me today and I couldn't shake it.

It started with news that more people in our lives are expecting and today, I just couldn't muster the happiness.  I heard complaints of not feeling well and my ability to plaster the smile on my face just vanished from my body. I left the house to "run an errand" but really I just needed an escape.

All week I've been able to communicate and tell people about Solana leaving without any trouble.  I probably sounded like a PSA for "How to be the role model foster parent".

People were asking:

So will you get to adopt the little one? Is she staying?

Well no, actually.  She is going home in a few weeks. That's the goal of foster care. We are really happy for her dad. He really gets it. We've built a relationship. I'm so glad she doesn't have to go through the pain of adoption or languishing in foster care. 

Isn't it hard?

Well it is. And of course the kids are taking it pretty hard but we have more support this time around and we have a better understanding of what to expect.

I don't know how you do it! God Bless you. I raised __   kids and they were my own!

Well my kids are my own.

I bopped along same busy Foster Mom R. Smoothing everything over. Happy for everyone.

And then BAM.

More people who you have to be excited for are expecting and your baby is going home. And all the feelings about infertility, and failings as a mom, and frustration with the system, and loss, deep, deep loss hit me.  And I'm feeling the memory of sitting in another baby shower, smiling and pretending that everything was fine, when nothing was fine - and I just couldn't hold it back any longer.

And then tonight she just wouldn't go to sleep.  She's been doing this all week. Screaming at bedtime. The same primal scream she uses at daycare when I drop her off.  And without fail the teacher murmurs - "I know, Mommy is best. Mommy will be back. Mommy always comes back."

Except I don't. And she knows it. She knows her weeks aren't the same. She knows she's been disappearing and staying somewhere else. And I have all this guilt and the real mind f*ck of it is -

I DIDN'T CAUSE ANY OF IT.

I didn't do this. Her mother did. The same mother who called in sick to her visit last week.

CALLED IN SICK. She gets 4 hours a week and she opted out.

W.T.F!? Parents don't get sick days. In fact my work "sick days" are typically used when my kids are sick. My ass was at a 7:30 AM meeting to discuss potential support services for a child she neglected - but she wasn't feeling well so she went ahead and cancelled?

I must have missed where that was an option when I signed up for the things I'd have to do as a parent.  Must have been under the check box of catch puke in your hands, clean poop off of hand towels, argue about why "we won't be going to Starbucks at 9:15 PM on a Sunday".

And YO! It's the Christmas Season! The month where everyone you haven't seen for like the past 10 months decides you need to be at their function for festiveness. And your kids have several layers of trauma and some teacher decided that the Elf on the Shelf was great fun and now your child won't shut up about it. She only wants an Elf on the Shelf or an iPad. Heads up child - you must be on the "fantasy list" because neither one of those things are going to happen. You will be lucky if Mom gets the darn tree up. And I'm not so secretly excited for next year when we can stop this whole "Santa" thing because I don't agree with your father that Santa gifts should be wrapped and I just spent a small fortune taking you on a flipping cruise.

So clearly, I'm just a tad bit out of sorts and not very "foster care positive" on this night before Solana's next overnight visit.

So I did some self care.

1) I shared with all of you.  We aren't alone. I know that. I appreciate everyone of you who take the time to read, comment, and like my Facebook posts.
2) I bought some LuLaRoe today and I ordered a fun petticoat for underneath it for one of the obligatory parties I mentioned above.
3) I watched TV tonight even though I still have "real" work to do and some thesis writing to wrap up for the semester.  I watched "This is Us" hoping it would make me cry so I could get it out, but the mid-season finale was so good I was just left on edge. - If you have not seen This is Us, I urge you to check it out. Bi-racial adoption, reunification, body issues, family drama, grief. It's all in there.

Tomorrow is a new day. As I hit save, I will recommit to my heart that going home is best for Solana and that her address doesn't matter. I will stop the timer on this grief, and I will resolve that others' happiness does not have to trigger my pain, nor do I have to feel guilty that my pain is triggered by their happiness.

Happiest Place on Earth....

Unless you have a sister in foster care who is about to be reunified and will no longer be allowed to live with you.  That's the status of our trip for Simon. Last night he came and found me requesting a hug. About 5 minutes later he came and told me he was really sad. Did I mention we are in Disney World? For the last week? After getting off a Disney cruise? All he should be worrying about is what time the fireworks start and if he can have more cotton candy. Instead, this crappy thing is about to happen in two weeks and it scares the crap out of him. Brings my sweet boy to tears. In Disney World  It broke my heart. I'm trying to focus on the fun and the memories. Trying to memorize all of the fun things and adorableness that is Solana (she literally waves her arms around to every song and shouts "Mimi!!!" When she see Mickey or Minnie. She also learned the words No and yes this week and I swear to God she said "Hello Simon" this morning. I tried to snap some extra pictures of just him and her today and give him a little more time with her. He was sitting next to me when she fell asleep on the Haunted Mansion ride.

I've texted her Dad every day and he recently friended me on Facebook so he has seen all my posts and pictures. He said he missed her but knows that she's having fun and that was all that mattered.

I have to admit though, I cried during the beginning of the Wishes fireworks. There was something about finally being there with my forever children listening to the song "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes" while also holding a snugly baby who calls me "mama" who will never remember living with us or this trip that caused the dam of tears to break. We are having such a fun time but the thought that this time is so finite, is never far away. A Dream and a nightmare.

Meanwhile, people are asking me for the kids' Christmas Lists and I just want to answer that all they want is to keep their baby sister in our home. I have zero desire to celebrate Thanksgiving next week.And feel crabby about having to Christmas shop.

Loss

I finished reading the kids' adoption subsidy packets and flipped over to Facebook to vent about it. In my feed was a post from a friend of mine that is going to the hospital tomorrow to have their baby who has a genetic disorder and will not survive very long after he is born. I'm so sad for their family. And it makes me even angrier that people are able to have multiple babies that they neglect and abuse. My Mama Bear is roaring under the surface. So wrong. So unfair. 

Will you say a prayer for my friends? Their entire family is about to go through a loss that many of us understand all to well. Pray they get supported through this and have space to talk/or not talk about the loss of their son. 

Grief Too Big For My Little Guy

I've written about grief a lot in the past year.  Heck, I've written about grief pretty much the entire time this blog has existed. I still struggle to understand the best ways to cope and heal from it.  Currently, I am grappling with how to help my kids do the same thing.  It totally sucks. 

Everyone outside of Foster Care Land wants to paint this picture of foster care as beautiful and giving.  Yes, it is a good thing to have people who want to help kids and families.  Yes, those families are special. Yes, there is a tremendous need.  But the truth is that the day in and day out of foster care is messy and full of loss and its tough, tough stuff to deal with. And that's how it feels to be the adult in the situation.

Imagine being six. And really worried that everyone is going to forget you.  You watch everyone around you for signs that they are going to cut and run.  You wait for them to sit you down and tell you you're moving or your visit is cancelled. You wait for the scary noises that happened when you were little that cause you to jump.  You wait for the sounds of objects breaking.  You hope that this time when you tell the mom in the house you are hurt, she makes you feel better, heck you just hope she pays attention to you.

Then you have a really great day. You get to have a party at school wearing a costume that makes you feel amazing.  And your Foster Mom comes to the parade like she said she would.  And you get to go trick or treating with your Foster Dad and he makes sure you are safe in the street.  And everyone laughs. You feel so comfortable you fall asleep on the couch right next to Foster Dad.  Foster Mom comes to wake you up and help you up to your bed. And its really dark and you don't know where you are and suddenly, you don't want this mom next to you.  You want your Mommy. Not this Mom. 

And so you start to sob. And your words get stuck. And your Foster Mom looks desperately into your eyes asking you what is making you cry and you have no idea.  And the words won't come. And its dark. And the pain comes from nowhere.  And she's saying something about being safe and knows this must be hard but you don't understand.  Its confusing because you just feel sad and it hurts your heart so very much. And the tears spill over your cheeks. And you don't want to hurt Foster Mom because she is nice and helps you but you miss your Mommy. And you cry and cry while Foster Mom holds you and kisses your head until you fall asleep.

That's what foster care looks like this week.  Messy. Painful. Hard.

Simon, at six, is learning to grieve a giant loss that he will experience over and over throughout his lifetime.  This part is not beautiful. This part is awful and if I could absorb his pain I would.

 

Stay Busy With Me

This week was the first week of no Bio Patent visits and it was rough. We've shed buckets of tears. Sleep is scarce and everyone is helpless.

Reasons this week for crying:

I'm scared of the toilet flushing.

I can't reach my socks.

You asked me to put my shoes on.

My sister is in trouble.

I can't find my toy.

It's dark outside.

We arrived home to our driveway.

I didn't bring my homework home.

I forgot my backpack.

We also played 20 bazillion questions with Mom as we held her hostage in the minivan on our way to and from everywhere this week. We covered all topics from ice to vultures. We asked Mom to turn the music up and put on a song only to talk over it each time. Even after we promised not to. Mom offered to rub our backs to help us fall asleep while we layed for 10 minutes with our eyes wide open. 

The therapists call this "Stay Busy With Me".  Because if Mom is staying busy with me, she can't forget me or leave me.

That's the root of the behavior driving Mom insane. Being forgotten. And it's such an uphill battle to prove otherwise. Because they have been forgotten.

The Bio Parents forgot visits and birthdays and phone calls. They missed meetings and court. They forgot to care for and protect. Over and over and over again.  

We can't let Foster Mom R be by herself for 10 minutes because she might forget us. And it's exhausting all of us. Even the dog. He went into his crate tonight just to chill and the kids were all like- why is he doing that? My response? He feels safe in there. Maybe he thinks he can't hear crying if he's in there. 

I Miss My Other Mommy

The therapists mentioned that often kids have a sense about the goal changing to TPR even though they haven't been told.  This seems to be true for my kids if the conversations and big feelings we have been witnessing this week are any indication. We've had several nights of crying fits at bedtime by Smiley and Sarah.  This week brought on statements of "I miss my other Mommy" and "I'm worried my Mom won't call".


Smiley has been doing a lot of crying.  We've determined that this is mainly about her attachment to me and her need to make sure I will take care of her.  Its exhausting.  As of late, she's not been able to get her pajamas on, brush her teeth, or finish homework without my either doing the task for her or right next to her, step by step.  I made the mistake of responding to her cries last night reminding her that her Mom should be calling today.


This set Sarah off.  We had a long conversation about her worries that her Mom would not call and the reasons why she can't live with her Mom.  She told me she was confused about that part.  She doesn't remember her Mom not being able to take care of her.  In reality, she only ever lived with her Mom for a few months at a time.  She spent her 1st year of life in foster care.  Then she lived with her grandma, then an aunt and uncle, and at some point back to her Mom.  She came back to Illinois and went to live with a family friend, then 2 sets of foster parents and then finally with me the last 9 months.  She sobbed in my arms.  The deep, body shaking of grief. It was heart breaking. I can't fix it. And I can't protect her from it.


Sheila did not call on-time.  Sarah was already aware that Mom had missed the call.  An hour after the call time I received a text that she was late because she was shopping for the kids. She won't see the kids for three weeks.  She is very much in denial about what is happening.  She wanted to call later tonight but as Sarah had already cried about the miss call time and moved on with the night, I felt it was best to leave it alone. 


I'm really struggling to understand how you can be shopping for the kids and then decide shopping is more important than calling them. Especially since just a few days ago she was texting about having more calls.  The responsible thinking just isn't there and that's the reason why she isn't parenting any of her kids.  I'm not sure that the calls are really in the kids' best interest at this point.  I think the only one who is really benefitting from them is Sheila. 


The Administrative Case Review this week should be interesting.  I'm wondering how productive it will be given she walked out on the meeting with the caseworker after court. Its going to be very hard to hear that the department no longer has to provide services.  She is also not going to like being told phone calls with the kids are at my discretion. 

Progress

We made huge progress tonight with Sarah. I had noticed today that she seemed more sad than she's been. It could have been a number of things: visit today with bio dad, lots of time in the car, apple picking with lots of crowds and noises. 

At bedtime she came to give me a hug and I asked her what was wrong (again). I asked if she wanted me to guess and she nodded. I guessed she was missing someone and she broke down. Poor thing was holding it in all day. When she told me she was missing her former foster parents (the ones who decided no contact) I guessed that it was the Halloween costumes that brought up the loss. She nodded.

Poor kid got hit by the grief out of nowhere.

We talked through it. She felt better and went to bed with no issues. She still doesn't feel like she can come to us to talk about her negative feelings but today she at least shared them. That was a big step forward! 

Hey Grief! Haven't Seen You In A While

I forget sometimes that I am still grieving. And it whacks me it of nowhere.

Hey Foster Mom R! Haven't made you cry in a bit. I think today would be a great day to remind you that you are no longer a mom, have no real prospects at becoming one, and oh yeah foster care sucks.

 A friend of mine lost her foster children of more than 2 years this week. I watched in horror and heartbreak as the Facebook updates came in after court. And unlike the Fab Four, there is no birth mother who has earned custody back. There is no hope that she will get to keep quality contact with them. They left the same day within hours of the court decision with no transition.

My blood boils that we live in a world with a court system that seems to consistently fail children. That chooses to create more heartache where there is already so much. That asks strangers to lend a hand and then walks all over them, time after time.

And I found myself sad. Bummed out. And then I arrived home tonight to an empty house. And I instantly burst into tears. There it was. The grief. Watching as another Mom was being dragged down the same awful path. Feeling helpless about the amount of hurt her family will endure. And then I realized I'm not done hurting. And I had no idea that I could be so deeply affected by someone else's pain. It still really hurts that the kids went home. And its ok to admit it. Man, do I miss being a mom. And if I'm being perfectly honest, I am so scared I won't be a permanent one, EVER. Because at the moment I don't want to volunteer to be crushed by the Foster Care System again.

Its just a bad day. I know that. I know that its one step at a time. And I just never expected it to be so hard. I'm confronted with just how badly I want children. And how hopeless that dream seems at the moment. I'm not even sure if its the Fab Four I'm grieving for. Perhaps its my fertility. Perhaps its that it seems so darn hard to get to the end goal. Maybe its all of the above.

Authors Note - Should my friend decide she wants to be a part of this post I will link to her website. But at the moment I won't ask because she has enough going on and it is her story to tell.

UPDATE 9/29/13 - Cherub Mama has given permission to link. Please see her comment below.

 

My Own Trigger

I have a few posts on pause because I deemed them simply too sad for the week of Thanksgiving. Wednesday morning as I dropped the kids off and still couldn't shake the urge to cry I realized that perhaps, I was experiencing my own trauma anniversary. Which makes sense. My Grandma passed the day before Thanksgiving two years ago and I miss her terribly.

Today is the actual anniversary date and I'm handling it fairly well. I think for me the day before Thanksgiving is my trigger. I was a mess. I volunteered to make the turkey at her house and spend the night to keep my grandfather company. And as I was opening every drawer in her kitchen, trying to familiarize myself with the location of everything, I prayed that I could recall the lessons she taught me about her secret to amazing stuffing. Then I had to laugh because at 31 it was really the first time I was allowed in the kitchen while cooking was going on and no one was telling me to move.

It did a little introspection. I checked in with my emotions and feelings and I think the one I'm feeling the most is anger.  I'm angry that I'm still grieving. I'm angry that I'm preparing myself to grieve more when the kids go home. I was even angry at mass on Thanksgiving. A couple got up to talk about what they were grateful for and the spoke about adoption. The thanked God for giving them the means to adopt internationally, then have biological children, and now are bring another child home through adoption. Then I was angry at myself for being angry that God was seemingly providing for them and not me.

And I'm letting the little things make me angry. Like the fact that the kids Mom wasn't home on Wednesday when they kids showed up for the visit. And that after 30 minutes of driving around her town they brought the kids back to daycare ( 45 minutes each way) and then picked them up ten minutes later when they finally got a hold of her and drove them back to her house. I'm angry about her new iPhone 5 (because I'm sorry if the court changes your permanency goal just so you can qualify for a housing grant I don't think that means you should be out buying the latest technology in smart phones). I'm angry that she bought Little Mama very expensive fashion sneakers when Mr. Mohawk and Jelly Bean actually need every day shoes. I'm angry that I'm being judgemental and petty. I'm angry that the kids are still having nightmares and wetting the bed and throwing up on days they see her and I'm angry that it doesn't matter.

So I did what I do best when I get angry -  I cleaned. I organized. I shampooed my carpets. Then I got a little creative and painted the kids' Christmas ornaments. Because sometimes I just need to get crafty.

If I'm working through the stages of grief, I believe bargaining is next.