Well Hello There Trauma

So just before school began, I started to write a blog post that started like this:

Well, well, well. Trauma-related behavior, so nice of you to stop by just before school starts. You've been gone so long, I *almost* forgot what you looked like. But I suppose it is mid-August and nearly September so that means it's time for Sarah to freak out. It could also be the fall out from visits with Birth Mom, Big Brother, and a Random Text from Birth Dad.

We've had a few raging tantrums but Friday both Sarah and Smiley had major issues. The was preceded by Simon also really struggling the day before. 

And that is as far as I got.  I had planned to go into detail about the tantrums, attitude, ripping of paper, pushing of tables, throwing of pillows, screeching, and slamming of feet/doors/hands during this epic day of rage but that didn't happen.  And what I really wanted to share was the verbal grenade of "You're not my Mom!" coming at me and the strange "earning of stripes" I felt afterward, but that didn't happen either.

Why? Because kids. Because when the trauma related stuff kicks in, it knocks me on my ass with exhaustion.  Because I wish and will the trauma away at times.  I like to pretend I have no new material for a foster care, early childhood trauma blog and quite frankly I resented having stuff to write about.  And while I feel guilty watching parents in other support groups and blogs struggle with parenting children in The System and Hard Places, because my kids "look so healthy", I much prefer that to the reminder that all Hell can break loose here at any moment because of trauma.

I realize I haven't written very much this year. Upon reflection, I think a large reason why I've not written is the resentment that trauma still lingers.  That perhaps this is the same old thing, and you lovely readers are tired of reading about it.  That perhaps no System related drama or suspense doesn't make for very good blog material.

But maybe there are readers out that that are in the same place as me, and I realized that perhaps you needed to read about some other Mom out there being resentful of the trauma or other special need. Maybe you are a tired Mom who just wishes that some magic wand would come and undo all of the hurt and pain your children carry around with them.  Maybe there is a Mom that gets blindsided when for weeks or months their house looks like a "typical house" and then all of a sudden  - BAM - trauma drops in to remind you that it never really leaves.

And while we have come far, really far, it's not enough to re-wire brain pathways and remove cellular level trauma, and it never will be. And that is the reality we have to deal with and sometimes, I don't want to. 

I Should Have Shut My Mouth

So as I was typing: "So far the summer has been fairly quiet in terms of trauma related issues, and foster care." I actually thought to myself, don't type that. The moment you type that, the Universe is going to send some your way. And sure enough, it did. Ugh.

Shortly after I wrote the July update post, I found out that the kids' older brother was coming to visit Shiela. The kids hadn't seen him in at least 5 years. They literally got on a bus and never saw him again. Smiley was around the age of 3. Simon, who was the only one that had lived with his brothers was 4. He remembers his brothers and has talked the most about missing them in the past. When Solana was returning home, this was a big part of the grief and fear he felt. 

About a week after I found out Big Brother was coming to visit, Sheila sent me a message and asked if we could have a visit with Big Brother and the kids. 

Since we had been helping Solana's Dad "SD" out with childcare, I offered to supervise some visits for Sheila and Solana.  I didn't want any family court drama aimed at SD for lack of visitation since he was being so generous with her spending time with her siblings. This came with a predictable amount of frustration. Lack of planning, cancelling, inconvenient visit times. There was even a message exchange where she was trying to draw me in to the trash talking. So I was slightly nervous about a visit with Big Brother because if it fell through, the kids would be crushed.

There was also a fair amount of worry about how long Big Brother was staying.  Was it 2 weeks, a month? Forever? Was I going to get a call because something happened and now The Department was involved? Could we take on a 14 year old if we had to? How did Big Brother feel about a visit? Was he supportive of the adoption? Jealous? Did he have enough emotional support for reuniting with his siblings? 

Hubby and I also felt we needed to prepare the kids for such a big visit so it wasn't as if we could tell them on the way to the visit. we met with our amazing therapist and came up with a "talk track" and canned answers to anticipated questions.  

The kids were excited and very nervous.  Mostly, they were nervous about what to say to Big Brother. We came up with a list of questions of things they wanted to know about him and decided on the zoo as the best place for a visit.  Thank you to everyone who gave us suggestions! They were helpful for planning this visit and future ones!

What was interesting was that they seemed very indifferent to Sheila.  It was a "I could take her or leave her" vibe.  We've seen her more than I expected we would but it is mainly because of Solana.  I think this is fine, but I also try to be cautious as some of the conversations her and I have had were very reminiscent of "your just their foster parent".  It's so hard to know what the right balance is.

Overall, the visit went well.  We spent a good part of the day at the zoo.  We sought shelter during a rain storm and played Heads Up on my phone.  Ice Cream and Sarah broke the ice.  Simon struggled and I don't think he ever worked up the nerve to say more than a few words to Big Brother.  At one point I confided in Big Brother that Simon really wanted to talk with him but was so nervous and had no idea what to say.  And Big Brother replied that he felt the same way.  It was sweet and heartbreaking at the same time. We ended up having dinner together and I was able to exchange phone numbers with him so hopefully the kids will be able to chat and keep in touch.  There were a few mannerisms he and Simon shared and him and Sarah have the same sense of humor. I'm glad we had the opportunity to see him and I am appreciative that Sheila gave us the opportunity.

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.

 

Love is a Four Letter Word

Driving from work to daycare to a doctors appointment tonight (we have pink eye and an ear infection and the stomach flu at our house this week) I heard this song. It brought tears to my eyes. I've been looking for a way to verbalized my feelings lately and this song lays some of them out there perfectly.




"I Won't Give Up" By Jason Mraz

Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmm ...

When I look into your eyes
It's like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
There's so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not
And who I am

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up
Still looking up.

I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

This song is on the album, Love is a Four Letter Word.

My oh my, do parents of traumatized children understand that statement.  Love is such a foreign concept to our kids that it is a negative. So many of them were told they were loved while awful, rotten, unimaginable things were done to them. Some were never held or told they were loved. Love is evil for kids who have experienced trauma. It is not to be trusted. Nor should you trust those people who might actually show you what real love can be like for they too will disappoint and hurt you with it. 

I'm sure the artist chose the title because so often romantic love can be painful.  So can the love between a parent and a child.  Surely, this kind of pain is nothing compared to the actual trauma our children experience but recovering from that trauma and being the person leading them through it is hard, lonely work. Often feeling impossible to do together because the goal of healing for the parent is often at odds with the goal of survival that our children have.  In order to SURVIVE they must not feel love.  And they will do everything they can to make sure you know that your "love" will not hurt them.  

My kids have trauma in their past. Some more than others.  I understand that my kids' behaviors would be considered mild compared to a lot of other kids in foster care.  I'm not into comparing this sort of thing but I mention it to recognize that a lot of other families are dealing with much tougher stuff than we are.  And I'm grateful that those families are willing to be open and honest with their struggles as it allows me to keep looking up and see how far they've come. Because they have not given up.  They have given their love. And their kids have learned to trust it. To believe in it.
This song has become an affirmation to me.  Of how I want to approach this journey on a daily basis.  That on days that I've listened to the 45th minute of screaming rage, handed the 10th time out, refereed the 15th tattling, answered the 100th nonsense question, and doled out the 14th consequence I have something to hold onto.  Because I haven't given up.  Though Lord know I've asked myself if I should.  And the answer back is always a resounding No. Because we're worth it. Because we are an US.  We are a family.  We have love.  It may not always look like the love of other families but its there. 

I am here to stay and make the difference I can make.  After 5 other families tried to do the same thing.  My kids really need to BELIEVE that I won't give up.  Especially when things get rough. The only way to do this is by proving it. Showing up time and time again.  Staying patient.  Giving them their space when they need it. We DO have a lot at stake. We have an opportunity to break a cycle of abuse that has lasted generations.  We have an opportunity to heal hurt inflicted over years. We have the ability to model for four children what health relationships look like so that they can go forward armed with this information for adulthood.  We have the time to be able to make education a priority and college a possibility for four children who had never finished one year in the same school.We have the ability to teach what LOVE is. What it should be.  I am tough enough. I am tough.  I am enough. On days that I question this I look back and see the strides we've made where others failed.  We haven't broken and the world has not caved in even though there were times I was sure it would. Like the day I had to admit Jelly Bean to the hospital or the day Little Mama was triggered and dissociated, and the day that I figured out Gabby was throwing up at visits due to anxiety, and the day of the worst migraine of my life.  We fought through it.  We got up the next day and the next.  And we are stronger for it.  Because I won't give up on us.  I'm giving them all my love.  E.V.E.R.Y. D.A.Y. Even days that I feel beaten down.  Especially on days that they reject my love and me.  Because that is how I know its working. 

Week 4

So this weekend will be 4 weeks since the kids have seen their Mom. We've settled into a groove of sorts - running errands, knocking out doctor and therapy appointments, getting stuff done around the house and hanging out as a family.  Its been strangely normal.  The kids have kind of stopped talking about her, being in foster care, and talking about going home.  Its sad because they seem so defeated by this like somehow they failed.  Nothing has changed with their goal of reunification.  Its as if this entire thing is on pause.  But they see the writing on the wall.  THEY know that by now she should have her act together and she's cemented their suspicion that she hasn't changed.  Even Little Mama has seemed to have given up hope that her Mom can do enough to get them back.  Which of course means that they are questioning our commitment to them.  The question before bed last night: "Mom do you like us?".

We've had some regressive behavior.  Mr. Mohawk had a ton of trouble keeping his hands to himself and has been lying up a storm.  Little Mama is forgetting homework and claiming ignorance of knowledge.  Gabby and Jelly Bean have been clingy and needy.  I took a page out of Last Mom's book and put both of them in shopping carts this past week.  Partly to help their brains process through where they were emotionally stuck, and partly because it wasn't worth the stress to me. Let me tell you when you have ADHD and anxious children you are less likely to scream and tear your hair out and head for the vodka its a lot more peaceful to grocery shop if you can put them in something. That is of course if you can keep them from fighting. And ignore the stares of other people wondering what kind of mother you are letting your 8 and 10 year old children play around in a shopping cart. And I know that's what they are thinking because if I weren't living in traumaland I too would be wondering: What the heck is WRONG with that woman? There are times when I want to stare back and then say: You have no idea what these kids have survived or what we are dealing with as a family.  Let me tell you that by letting them ride in a cart at the store I am helping to heal their trauma and hopefully give them a decent shot at a stable future. And you know - I get how easy it is to judge but really we need to lay off one another. 

And as much as I love having the weekends with the kids, I need a break so my Mom is watching them Saturday while I go to the doctor and Hubby gets caught up at work.  She's really looking forward to having them and that makes my heart happy.

Unfair

Wednesday I recieved what I would consider two major blows. The first was a phone call from the District Attorney's office. The Victim Advocate called to set up a meeting with Little Mama to prep her for a pretrial hearing in the case agianst the Monster that hurt JB in foster care. I'm sorry did I hear you right - LM has to testify? When is the hearing? 2 weeks? And I'm just finding this out now? Do you know she was abused also? And that guy is sitting in jail? And its a major issue with my kids as he was the father of another one of the kids? Luckily this was in time for her trauma therapist to prep her before the DA. To say I was caught off guard was an understatement. And man am I worried about the trigger this might be. After a year in therapy she still hasn't disclosed ANY of the details of her abuse to her therapist. This may just be the log that breaks the dam.

Then Case Worker came over for our monthly visit. We had emailed with some major concerns about visits. We were right they aren't going well. Why aren't they going well? According to their Mom its because the kids are in a non-Spanish speaking home. There is a law in Illinois that states that Spanish speaking parents are entitled to have the right to say whether or not their children can be in English speaking homes. They must sign a waiver if it is ok for this to happen. Our foster kid's mother did not sign it. And after all of the Spanish speaking placements for her 4 children disrupted they were placed in our home together after 9 months of being seperated.

According to everyone in the case they are doing wonderfully here. They are excelling at school, begining to heal in therapy, finally stabalized after 9 months of moves (5 other houses between them). And because of this their service providers and case worker are finding out more and more of the poor choices and abuse that these kids have suffered through. And as their visit time has increased so has their Mom's inability to handle the 4 kids that she has. 1) because there are 4 of them 2) because they don't trust her 3)they are acting out big time because they know she can't hit them 4) one of them is 4 and a boy 5) one of them has ADHD 6) she doesn't have a support system 7) she hasn't taken responsibility for her actions 8) she has had a therapist for a year that was a total idiot. (He's the reason family therapy stopped.)

And because she can't take responsibility and blames everyone else it is now OUR fault that her children are refusing to speak Spanish around her. And she wants them moved to a Spanish speaking home. And she has the power to do so even though it was her actions that caused them to be removed in the first place. Not caring that this will absoluetly traumatize them further. Not caring that finally her 7 year old is able to hug a father figure without fear. Not caring that her children can now read and are doing well in school. Not realizing that maybe if she stopped shoving Mexico down their throat they might stop rebelling. Or if she stopped telling them they will be moving to Mexico or that she will be moving to Mexico with or without them they might be willing to embrace their heritage. Not realizing that instead of ignoring her children at visits because their Spanish isn't where she wants it she could use the time to interact with them and teach them or speak to them in the English she does know so they weren't so darn frustrated and acting out. And perhaps learning English would help her land a better paying job so she wasn't so stressed about finances or dependent on boyfriends to take care of her AND her four children.

Now before I get flamed on my blog about my insensitivity to their Mom or what sounds like non-support of the reunification goal let me give you some background on our family. My husband is hispanic. 100%. My Mother-in-Law speaks fluent Spanish as does my husband's Step Father, and best friend. We support and encourage the kids to use their Spanish. They flat out refuse. And while I understand listening to music or forcing them to watch tv and movies in Spanish or conversing with our friends and family who do speak Spanish is a lousy 2nd to living with people who speak fluent Spanish it isn't like we are trying to take it away from them. Additionally, our support of their eduction, mental health, and other needs has been above and beyond as all of their service providers have told us. I'm not one to toot my own horn but when their bilingual trauma therapist looks be dead in the eye and tells me she rarely gives compliments but believes we are one of the best foster parents she's ever worked with and in her professional opinion thinks we are the best possible home for them I have to believe her. She also believes this problem with Spanish started way before they got put in DCFS care and this is evidenced by the fact that the youngest was given an evaluation in Spanish but answered everything in English. Why? because his older sister who was learning English in school was taking care of him.

But none of that matters. Because as hard as I try to help these kids heal their Mother is making more work for them.And the law gives her that power. And I understand there is a serious and real concern that the youngest won't be able to understand her when he returns home. And I take that seriously, I really do. So in order to prevent ANOTHER move we have to enroll them in Spanish classes. So between school, and three therapists, weekly visits, and perhaps family therapy starting they will have Spanish class. And to top all that off we may be required to speak to their Mom, in Spanish. This part is still fuzzy.

But as their therapist relayed this requirement to me it just seemed incredibly unfair. Because on top of caring for 4 children, working full time, and trying to keep my sanity I will now have to jump through several hoops when their Mother has not had to jump through a single one. And I cried in her office. With my foster children on the other side of the wall. Angry that their Mother doesn't understand that their well being and her issues go well beyond them speaking Spanish. Or how incredibly fragile her children are. And that to me there was no other option than trying to comply with these requests to protect HER kids. And knowing that at the end of this she is supposed to get them back and has the right to take them out of our lives forever. And because my husband did not not grow up speaking Spanish and actually didn't do very well taking it in High School I will now have to brush up on mine. So it rides on my shoulders. Luckily I took Spanish from 7th grade up through college. But its rusty. And I never thought I was very good. But I will do it because thats whats best for these kids. And when they complain and ask me why they have to go to ANOTHER appointment none of their friends have to go to I will lie and say because the judge made it a rule because that is also for their best interest.

The Power of Words

We took Jelly Bean and Mr. Mohawk and their sisters; Gabby, and Little Mama to Wisconsin Dells this weekend. In case you don't know what that is its the water park capital of the world. Since we did have to say no to taking the older girls as a placement we felt strongly that we would try and have all 4 kids spend time together. In our infinite wisdom as 1st time parents we figured a 2 day trip out of state would be a good way to do that.

Yes of course that is sarcasm. We did have a lot of fun but the weekend was not without the choas of caring for 4 children let alone two who don't know you, one with a 103.9 fever, and the last without a place in the group.

Lots of feelings came out. There were some alarming behaviors (like the girl who took off her pants in front of my husband while the group was sitting in the living room; and purposeful pushing in the water). There were also some really great memories and lots of pictures taken. Unfortunately, for this blog the kids love the camera and I only got 1 shot without a face.

I will write more later this week about the trip itself. Today, though, I want to write about the moments where you just look at these little faces and think how much did these adults do to traumatize these kids so badly that they do x, y and z.

Little Mama is 10 and the oldest of the group. She was a great help most of the trip but in some instances the cause of consequences. When we finally got to the water park and it was time to take cover-ups off she froze. After much coaxing she told me that she didn't want to take the cover-up off "because my Real Mom told me I'm stupid and don't look right and that I'm ugly.".

Crack. That was the sound of my heart breaking just a bit more for these kids. Verbal abuse so bad that removed from the situation 6 months she can't have fun at a water park. Of course the younger girls had followed us and were standing behind me as she was sharing. I dropped down to my knees and gathered them around me and told them while I wasn't positive I was pretty sure the words were spoken in anger. That if they learned nothing else the whole trip that I cared for them very much. That they were all beautiful, special, smart, funny girls. And that while sometimes they may not feel book smart or smart in school they are way smarter than any other girls I had met in other ways.

This soothed the nerves and she got in the water and did have fun. Later that night Gabby was chattering away and repeated to me what I had said. That she wasn't always smart in school but that she was smart in other ways. I could only hope at that moment that they hear the good as much as they hear the bad.

And finally, I was able to find one other picture from just a few weeks ago when our area got hit with a blizzard. I love this picture because Jelly Bean is helping her brother up the mountain. The one she didn't think she would get to the top of....