love...

I stumbled upon a new blog this morning.  http://www.urbanservant.blogspot.com/  I found this post and it really speaks to me right now.  It speaks to the many reasons i haven't blogged since November.  Things have been tough.  But, before I get to that, please take a moment to read these words.  I am just starting on my journey of faith, and this was enlightening. 

Love is enough in Adoption....But Can You Love This Way?

Love is enough in adoption. 
Which is a statement that should have 50% of my friends making a double take and starting to panic that I have learned NOTHING so far in our adoption journey and gone around some sort of serious mental health corner.  Hear me out on this one (and stop smiling Twisted Sisters...I said STOP!)

Love is enough in adoption.
If you are ready to say you love them a thousand times
and never hear it back.

It's enough
if you are willing to lay down your comfort zone, your friends, your family,
and go with a child into dark places.
Places other people run from.
Places that scare the pants off you.

If you can realize that words like
'failure'
'abuse'
'suffering'
'mean'
'violent'
Might be better labels for your children's future than success and kindness.

Love is enough when you can stand beside a child
who has done wrong.
Maybe horrible wrong -
Maybe minor.
And not take the place of punitive judge.
But that of intercessory supporter,
Because you know that no one else ever will.

Can you separate the behavior
from the child -
enough to continue loving them
even when they can't stay in your home?
Even if they hurt you?
Even when they hate you?
Even if they ruin your dreams?

Love is enough in adoption.
But it isn't the surface sort of love we think about.
Where we heal their wounds with Bible stories and home cooked meals.
Where children of trauma (inflicted both before and after birth)
Emerge as young adults who lead their peers in righteousness.

It can be a suffering, bleeding, crippling -
God filled and God ordained love.
Where we talk not of summer jobs and drivers licences
but of crisis care and safety plans.

Love is enough
 but it might look
     and taste
          and feel
              more like
the love that Christ taught us on the cross.
A different sort of love -
LOVE.
All capitals
On a separate line.
Because it's the answer to the question
"Would you lay down your life for this child?'
Every
      Single
           Tiny
               Piece
                 until it is gone?

Love is enough.
But it might take all of us
and it might not ever look or feel like progress in this life.
But it is LOVE.
And I believe that that is enough.

***************************

 

I will leave this as its own post.  I will post more about life in this extraordinary household soon.  I do want to get back into blogging - I just have to figure out how to do that with all of the difficult issues we are dealing with.  To ensure I am respecting the privacy of my family and to ensure that this isn't just a place for me to go and complain.  Instead a place to reflect, learn, express and grow.

Thank you, Emily

Embarrassing......

Over the weekend we took our children to my husband and I's home town.  Traveling with our extraordinary bunch is always akin to traveling with the circus....quite literally.  First, one has to pack for the family.  Packing for 5 children and 2 adults is a task in and of itself.  But, packing for 1 child who eats a specialized diet, 1 child who pees his pants 5 times a day, 1 child who needs several orange choices each day or he has a melt down, an infant (need I say more, we've all packed for them), and then another who spills everything on himself.  Clearly a lot must be packed.  But we have to draw the line somewhere right. 

So for the one who spills everything (Noah), I guess you'll have to look like a dirty street boy because I don't have enough room to pack enough clean clothes for you.  For the one who needs choices (Kaegan), man you have to get over some of these OCD tendencies at some point, so lets give it a go at Grammy's house because she has some magic charm and can always talk you off your ledge when the 'correct' orange shirt isn't presented as an option.  For the one who pees his pants umpteen times a day (Adrian), well we fixed that a few weeks ago when you moved back into diapers 24/7.  So, I just need to be sure I pack your extra large and extra expensive pull ups.  But I don't have to remember undies for you - that's a plus right? For the one on the diet (Chloe) well everything must be absolutely perfect for you - because that's how we have to role when we parent a child on the Autism Spectrum and the  Ketogenic Diet.  So I spend extra hours for you making sure everything is just right.  (Do I have all of your food ready to be weighed out at Grammy's?  Do I have your special shampoo (just in case we take a bath), your special toothpaste, and the clothes that I know won't bother you or make you claim there is sand in them.  (When Chloe is having sensory issues or is just dysregulated by change she often claims there is sand somewhere in her clothing).  For the infant (of course, Stella) well naturally babies just need a whole lot of shit on a day to day basis - so of course I pack extra.  :)  Then pack for mom and dad - naturally the last 2 to pack for.  Dad is lucky I remembered his undies this time!  :)  But, I did forget his breathing machine - so instead of having dad sleep in the house with all of the other humans we had a freight train sleeping with us.  Don't worry, I forgot my own stuff too - namely a more dressy outfit for an evening wedding that I didn't realize was a 'dress to the max' occasion.  I arrived in dress slacks, a cable knit top and tennis shoes (naturally, forgot the dress shoes).  Whatever.  At least I remembered everyone's medications......and I didn't forget a child anywhere either!!  :) It is exhausting just thinking about packing for everyone.  Yet, we love going for the weekend.  We love being close to family.  We love the chance to wake up to their voices and share in their laughter all day long.  We love it almost more than words can say. 

Sometimes traveling with our crew can be quite testing.  Of course behavior in public is tested beyond measure.  Adrian doesn't believe that we will follow through with things because we are elsewhere.  Even though we followed through last time, and the time before, and before that......you get the idea.  It isn't just him either - but it is mainly him.  Chloe has little meltdowns all day long.  She is really struggling with transitions these days.  She is struggling at home and at therapy - but magically not at school.  So, we were not sure what to expect at Grammy's.  Well, transitions were a little better than at home, but still a crying, drooling mess arrived anytime Chloe was informed of an upcoming change.  Kaegan and Noah were just uber excited to be elsewhere, so their energy level was ramped, and of course their listening ability was down.  That is natural.  It is all natural, really.  Natural that a child with Autism has difficulties with transitions, and that it isn't going to be any better when put in a different environment.  Natural that a child with attachment/trauma issues tries to push every button possible, and then push it again and again and again just to see if the same reaction is evoked.  Natural that an infant's schedule is messed up due to all of the changes. 

It. Is. All. Natural.  But, when all of that natural goodness is all wrapped up together in one big happy family sometimes it can be very stressful having our children anywhere but home.  Sometimes, it is so very embarrassing.   I was having one of those moments Saturday morning.  I was near tears discussing how difficult of a time I was having dealing with the emotions that are coming with Adrian's rages, tantrums, fits - whatever you want to call them.  I said I was embarrassed sometimes to be with him in public when he is not in control of himself.  I fully recognized to my husband that I knew this was an issue on my end - not Adrian's, but that it was still an issue.  My husband has some wise words. 

He simply asked me a few questions.  Would I be embarrassed if I bought and remodeled an old home?  Would I be embarrassed of fixing a valued vase that had broken?  He didn't need to say more.  We are constantly repairing what was broken inside Adrian.  I shouldn't be embarrassed by that, I should be proud.  And I am proud, truly I am.  What is so difficult is that when we are out in public, people don't know that some of our children are adopted, they just see a 6 year old treating his mom like crap and using words that seasoned truckers would even blush at.  They see a brat.  They see a mom who is doing a horse shit job of parenting.  They see a kid so grossly out of control that he is guaranteed to be fodder for discussion later, with their parents or spouse.  (I can hear it now...."When I am a parent I will never let my kid act that way" and comments like this).  This is difficult.  This is my problem, not Adrian's - I need to care less about what other people think of me and my parenting.  Or, I just need to just go buy a large sign to wear on both sides of my body that states that I am an adoptive mom and I did not create the mess inside this child's head - but am working my butt off to un-do it.  I guess the sign thing is less likely - but it is nice to dream. 

I guess my message here is don't judge.  When you see a mom in a store who is working to discipline an out of control child - think, don't judge.  That child may have Autism and may think there is sand in her shoes that MUST COME OUT NOW.  That child may have a history of trauma and saw something that triggered an event from the past which is causing them to act out.  That child may have OCD and see something that isn't lined up on the shelf correctly and mom choose to not stop to let the child fix it.  That child may have attachment issues and is choosing to pick a control battle right in the middle of the social services building because he can sense that his mom is already on edge being in "this" building.  You just don't know.  Then again, the kid could be just being a brat and the mom could just be a horse shit parent.  But I like to think otherwise.  By the way - these are all examples from our family.  (In case you didn't pick that up already).

An Un-Medicated Rage

Let's just start at the beginning of the day yesterday.....I already blogged about stepping outside of my mommy box for Halloween - here is the blog about Adrian's un-medicated Halloween rage.  The kids were home - it was a 'no school' day.

First of all, Stella is sick, she was up about 15 times (one looses count after so many up and downs) during the night.  So my day started a little sleepy.  The kids were all up by 7:30 (yay!  they slept in).  I decided to let the kids have a fun pajama day - they were all pumped about getting to wear they pj's all day long!  It is funny the little things that get the kids excited!  Chloe was quite upset about not putting clothes on.  She has been crying about everything lately, and this was no exception.  I laid out a clean pair of jammies, and a clean option of clothes to wear.  I told her to choose one and come downstairs.  About 20 min later she came down naked, crying, with snot running down her face and chest.  She was so clearly dysregulated by the mere mention of wearing pajamas all day.  I cleaned her up and then had her look at her brothers, all wearing pj's.  She was still reluctant, but decided to go up and make her choice.  While I was helping her, Adrian and Kaegan got into a fight and Adrian hit and kicked Kaegan.  Adrian was now my 'pocket buddy'.  This means he is right next to me, doing what I do.  He hates this, to tell you the truth; I hate this.  This child will do anything and everything to try to make me mad while he is my pocket buddy.  He makes insane noises that never stop, he asks ridiculous questions over and over and over. AND OVER.  He slows me down, he races to stay one step ahead of me, he mumbles nasty comments to me.  Can you see how annoying having a pocket buddy is?  But I do it anyway, because having Adrian as my pocket buddy is effective!  All of the children stay safe and Adrian sees that he can push my buttons and I will not respond.  This. is. hard.  It would be so much easier to just send him to his room, or have him sit in time out or something else - BUT those things don't work.  We were pocket buddies for about 30 minutes.  It was a very trying 30 minutes, he made noises or talked incessantly the entire time.  He did everything that he could to make me flip and yell at him - but I didn't and that just pissed him off more! 

After pocket buddy he graduated to reading books on the couch, by himself.  This transition flipped some internal switch and Adrian flipped out.  Let me help you visualize this.  I had Stella in my arms, standing on the tile floor looking up at the landing between our 1st and 2nd floors.  Chloe was half way down that half flight of stairs (might I add dressed in her pj's with a smile on her face).  Adrian was at the top of this half flight, standing on the landing - right next to a book shelf.  Adrian started screaming at me at the top of his lungs about how much he hates me and doesn't want to live here anymore.  Then, it got worse.  He grabbed a large book of the shelf and whipped it at me.  He missed.  But he had an entire arsenal of books next to him and Chloe and Stella were right in the middle of it.  I held Stella tight on my left hip and reached up the few steps and grabbed Chloe around her waist.  Then more books came flying and Adrian kept screaming at the top of his lungs.  As I set Chloe down - out of the way of the flying books I realized she was shaking like a leaf, then she peed her pants.  Remember, she has PTSD, her biggest trigger is her brother.  He used to beat the crap out of her in their birth home and tries to do it here.  I set Stella down on her tummy time blanket and brought Chloe to the bathroom, now sobbing, shaking and full of pee.  I helped her get on the toilet, knowing that when she gets this upset it is likely she will also have more business to do on the toilet.  I told her I would help her in a minute, I'd be right back.  It was then that I realized I had not given Adrian his medication this morning.  It was only 8:30, but he usually has his medication by 7:30.

I returned to the firestorm.  Not having anyone to aim at (both Kaegan and Noah were hiding in the living room, quiet as can be) for a minute or so helped Adrian to calm down a little bit.  As soon as he saw me he started screaming and launching books at me.  I walked right through the fire, picked his screaming, kicking, hitting and now biting behind up and hauled him to his room.  I didn't say a word to him, just set him on his bed and closed the door.  I don't know exactly what transpired in that bedroom, but I heard things flying across the room, I heard sheets being ripped of the bed, a clothes basket being launched at the closet door, over and over.  Then I heard what sounded like Adrian kicking and hitting the floor.  I imagine him on his floor kicking and hitting like a 2 year old and I felt so sad for him.  I was still mad, don't get me wrong, but I was so saddened that he experiences things like this.  Also, that he has that little of self control. 

I went downstairs to calm my other 4 children.  Kaegan and Noah were easy to calm.  I just told them they were safe, I was safe and that Adrian just needed some time to control himself.  Stella was happy as soon as I picked her up.  I think she was just upset about his screaming and the books slamming on the ground, she doesn't like loud noises like that.  Chloe was a whole different story.  I cleaned up the accident, got new clothes for her, helped her get dressed - again.  Then I rocked her for about 5 minutes before she was done shaking.  I talked to all of the kids about how sometimes Adrian gets mad and does things - but that mom and dad will always keep them safe.  They were fine after that.  Chloe didn't want me too far away from her for about another 30 minutes, but then again Adrian was still upstairs demolishing his room - so she was still being traumatized by the noise of it all. 

After about 30 minutes Adrian calmed down a bit.  I went into his room and we talked about how he needs to be able to control those big emotions in his body.  We talked about how he has no right to scare other people in the family.  I told him how scared Chloe was, he hung his head, then I told him that he scared Stella -  he started sobbing.  Adrian and Stella have some crazy bond.  He loves her so very much and I know she returns that admiration.  The thought of having harmed her was too much for him.  I just hugged him.  It is so hard to know what is an act with Adrian, but I have learned to accept affection whenever he will give it - even if it is fake.  I don't think he cared a hoot about scaring Chloe, Kaegan or Noah - but I do think he cared about scaring Stella.  After he was calm I told him he needed to take a short 10 minute rest and get his body under control.  Focus on your breathing, think about controlling your big thoughts and using your words next time.  After 10 minutes I opened up his door.  He didn't come out for about another 20. 

It was an exhausting tantrum, for all of us involved.  It was so clear to me after all of it happened that Adrian needs to be monitored so very closely.  If I would have just told him to go get a book, not followed him over there, Chloe could have gotten really hurt.  A small book could have knocked her off her balance and she would have fallen.  Glad it is over, learned some things from it and hopefully Adrian will continue to work hard on controlling his "Big feelings" as we call them. 

Stepping outside my Mommy box

One of the things we have changed at this house is the amount of free time Adrian has.  It seems if we can keep him occupied on a variety of tasks his behavior stays positive and his interactions with everyone else is positive.  So, we've been doing a lot of coloring, painting, play dough, moon sand, ect.... you get the idea.  Those that know me, know I hate cleaning up those messes.  When I was a teacher, I had no issue bringing those kinds of activities to family's homes, doing them with the child/family and cleaning up afterward.  But, there is something about doing them in my own home, with my own children and cleaning up that mess.  I would just prefer they get to do that sort of messy activity at school.  I decided I needed to start to get over that.  Yesterday was a big day for me!! 

We colored for about an hour.  Usually, I have them pick out a page of the coloring book and I rip it out for them.  But, Grammy had sent them each a new coloring book for Halloween - so I wrote their name on the top and gave them the whole book.  You would have thought I just handed them an entire cake!  They all questioned whether they could have the whole book.  I told them they were gifts and they could do what they wanted with them.  They each took a crayon and made a mark on every - single - page!  Then, they picked a page and colored to their hearts desire. 

After that, I let them choose what they wanted for lunch - see how scary this could be!!!  Waffles and pizza - and an apple Kaegan said.  Okay, remember it is all about stepping outside of that mommy box......So I made pizza and waffles.  (Chloe choose her Keto friendly hot dog and apples meal).  They ate like champs!!  I did continue with the schedule as usual and they all took a nice rest.  I used that time to knit Chloe a new hat (she has lost her other cute one, with the adorable knitted flower on it- bummer).  Well I almost got it done.  I knew what I had planned for the afternoon and knew I would need all of the patience I had and no residual stress from the morning, knitting has helped me find my "Happy Place". 

After nap we made sugar cookies.  When I say "We" I mean the children all did their own measuring, I gave verbal guidance for Adrian and Kaegan and did give some physical prompting to Chloe and Noah.  I was nervous about letting Chloe be that close to all of these foods that are not safe for her, but I decided to give it a whirl and see what happens.  They all also cracked their own eggs.......it was horrible to watch.  Adrian and Kaegan had the right idea, crack it on the side of their bowl and then use their thumbs - they did it.  Adrian only had a small piece of shell in his bowl and Kaegan didn't get any shell in his.  Chloe on the other hand just squeezed her egg in one hand.......at least she was over the bowl, her whole egg and the shell now crushed to many pieces all went into her bowl.  Noah just set his whole egg inside his bowl and smiled.  I said he needed to crack it to open it up and he said "No mommy, no mess".  I smiled, a boy after my own heart!  I helped him to crack it on the side and showed him where to put his thumbs to pull it apart.  He didn't like it. 

It took about 20 minutes to get all of the pieces of shell out of the 3 bowls - but the kids waited.  I took that chance to give them a little lesson on eggs.  We talked about where they came from (they all knew the answer) and then I talked about how the yoke is the baby chicken and if it would have stayed in its mommy's nest it would have grown into a baby chicken.  Adrian pointed out that if all of the eggs stayed with their mommy's we would have eggs to eat, I told him he was correct.  He said that he was okay with some eggs staying with their moms because he liked baby chickens, but that we still needed some to eat.  It was a good compromise.  I let them run the mixer, roll out their own dough and cut out their own shapes.  The cookies turned out well, surprisingly.  I have not come across any rogue shell pieces and they taste pretty close to what they should. 

After this we played with moon sand.  In - the - house!!!!  This has always been an outside only activity.  In case you aren't familiar, moon sand gets everywhere!!  It gets into the cracks of the hard wood floors, and if it gets on the bottom of feet - your carpet is at risk!!  The kids had a blast, I swept 4 times in the 90 minutes that they played with moon sand. 

It was a fun day!!  We had some really rocky moments with Adrian - but that is another post all together.  Despite his rage and horrible attitude I was determined to make Halloween a great day for all of them.  After supper we went trick or treating and the kids had a blast!!  Here is a picture below before we went out.  Adrian is Iron Man, Chloe is a dancer, Kaegan a Giraffe, Noah is Batman, and Stella is a ladybug.

It was a good Halloween. 

Somebody Else

As we struggle through these weeks with Adrian, Trent and I have had many long conversations of the months and years ahead.  Adrian's psychologist has also had these discussions with us.  Our last appointment with her, last week, was brutal.  She discussed the likely need for an out of home placement for Adrian as he works through this severe aggression (he gave a kid a black eye yesterday at school - remember he is 6).  We have to always look at our family's safety - that includes Adrian's safety.  Part of keeping him safe may mean him being placed out of our home at some point.  I don't know that we are at that point yet - his psychologist seems to think so.  But we have our disagreements!  She also discussed something that has been eating away at the back, dark parts of my brain.  She thinks Adrian has early onset bipolar.  I have thought that for many months now - I didn't want to speak it out loud because that is such a scary and icky thing to think about.  RAD, ADHD and PTSD are bad enough - now lets pile on another scary lifelong and very serious mental health diagnosis?  I think she is right - of course no diagnosis has or will be made any time soon.

As we think and talk about an out of home placement there is so much to consider and think about.  What would that do to Adrian's sense of security in this family.  It is already so damaged and fragile that I don't know what would become of it if he were to be living elsewhere.  I think about the kinds of kids he will be living with in a facility - do I really want my boy exposed to that?  (even though, according to his psychologist, he is one of them).  I think about our already rocky attachment, out of home placements can make or break a solid attachment with a child with an attachment disorder.  I think about how admitting that I can not provide for him the kind of mental health treatment he needs, must mean I have failed in some way as his mother.  I know I am not the one who damaged his heart and his brain - but I am the one that committed to saving him and loving him.  No. Matter. What.

I am also committed to keeping our family healthy, safe and together.  That conference that Trent and I went to last weekend was unbelievable!!  Trent and I were so inspired by the other families there, by their stories, their commitment, and their love for their children.  No. Matter. What.  It was so refreshing to be in a room of people who understood what it is like to live with and love a child with an attachment disorder.  I have so many great friends and family that I talk and vent to - but they talk about baseball leagues, birthday parties their kids were invited to, parenting struggles they are having....etc...you get the point.  And that is fine and wonderful.  I love my friends and family fiercely and I want to hear and know about anything and everything going on in their lives.  I love that my friends will also listen to things going on in my life - even if they don't understand.  But it was very comforting to be among people who truly get it.  Who live it day in and day out and who have complete empathy when I say things that may shock other people.  Parenting some of my children is a completely different experience than parenting a typically developing and healthy attached child.  Some people say things such as "My kid did that too, he'll grow out of it, don't worry."  Well meaning people say things sometimes that just make it so clear to me that my world and my life is so foreign to others.  When I tell a story of finding pee on the bathroom floor, other mom's of boys will say - "boys miss sometimes".  "Boys will be boys", "he'll eventually learn how to aim".  "Have him sit on the toilet, that way he doesn't have to aim".  Those are all wonderful ideas - really they are - for a typically developing child.  When I say Adrian pees in the bathroom, what I mean is that Adrian walks into the bathroom, pulls his pants down and pees all over the place - the walls, the cabinets, the floor.....everywhere.  It is different with him, it is and always will be different with him.  Yes, he does do things that other people see as 'typical boy' things.  But, with him it goes to a whole new level.  Boys play with guns, even if you don't have toy guns - boys make them out of legos and such.  That is typical - Adrian makes everything into a gun; block, legos, bristle blocks, his fingers, puzzle pieces, baby dolls - he even eats his sandwich into the shape of a gun.  He uses these guns to 'hunt' his brothers.  Do you see how he just takes it all up an extra knotch or two (or 5 or 8!)  It is just different.  That is my point.

I wanted to share something with everyone.  I copied this from a fellow adoptive parent/friend's blog.  I'd link it here, but she has now moved her blog private.  She is an amazing advocate for her children and every time I read her blog I realize how much we have in common.  Over this past weekend we talked about how sometimes I question whether or not I can continue on this parenting journey - or whether my Adrian actually would be better with somebody else.  This is a very difficult journey and I am baring my soul here on this blog in an attempt to have more people understand the importance of early life trauma and neglect and what it does to our youngest and most vulnerable people.  (As a side note, my children did not have prenatal exposure to toxins, that we know of).

..................................................................

Somebody else
By Kari Fletcher

I didn’t drink the alcohol that damaged your developing brain;

that was somebody else.

I didn’t neglect or hurt you when you were young;

that was somebody else.

The memories of you kicking in the womb, the story of your birth and the pictures of your first tooth belong to somebody else, too.

But when you needed somebody else, I was there.

I am contented to be your somebody else, and I want to love you like nobody else.

But there have been times when I have felt like somebody else could do this better.

Somebody who knows more, is more patient, somebody more skilled…

…who am I to care for somebody so hurt, so complex, so worthy and needing of so much more?

It is then when I remind myself that you have already helped me become somebody else.

Somebody who loves deeply, forgives profusely, seeks answers constantly and advocates fiercely.

Somebody else didn’t commit to you.

I did.

And I will commit myself each day to being the somebody else you need.

..................................................................

Powerful. Another thing we talked about over the weekend is how different families can look.  About how some families need to live away from one another at times, but they are still a family.  The reality of our lives and future with Adrian really hit home this past weekend.  It is scary to think about what it may be like.  He is already in our constant line of sight.  If/when he doesn't think we are watching bad things happen.  Bad, violent and also sad things happen.  Adrian is such a product of his environment, unfortunately, he is a product of a very scary, violent, disordered and sick environment.  The fact that he has been in our home for 2 1/2 years means nothing.  His first 3 1/2 years damaged his brain in such a way that he is unable to take in the positives of his current environment.  We have to find a way to get through all of that yucky stuff, all of those first 3 1/2 years, in order to help him heal and be shaped more like his current environment.  We don't know if that is possible while he is at home and seeing an out patient therapist once a week.  He may need something more intense.  But - we are committed to him, please do not ever misunderstand that.  We are committed to helping him heal, but we are realistic that we need help to do that. 

2 years without you...

On Friday was Corbin's 2nd Angel Day.  I thought about writing all day - but couldn't do it. 

I remember the weeks before.  I remember calling the social worker repeatedly to get the latest update from birth mom's doctor appointments.  Was she dilating at all?  What was Corbin's heart rate?  Is birth mom staying healthy?  how many packs of cigarettes is she smoking a day?  (WHAT?  3 packs a day?  Can't anyone stop her?  Can't anyone get through to her?  This is my baby she is hurting, don't I have a say??) I remember being so upset that I wasn't allowed to go to any of the appointments, that I wasn't able to see an ultrasound picture.  That I wasn't able to hear his heartbeat for myself.  All of these things that would have meant so much now that he is gone....

I will never forget that day.  I was in the shower when I heard my phone ring.  Knowing the birth mom was so close to her due date a phone call at 6am was sure to be "that call" to tell us to rush down - our son was about to be born.  I flew out of the shower, but missed the call.  I called back immediately, the lady that answered the phone has a voice that is forever engraved in my memory.  I said who I was, and that I just missed her call - "Is she in labor?" I was so excited.  I heard the lady take in a deep breath and I said "what's wrong?".  She said, "I'm sorry, your son no longer has a heart beat."  I remember sitting down quickly just saying "what" a few times.  She was crying, I was sobbing.  She explained to me the events of the previous days, and night that led to birth mom going to the hospital at 4am.  She said she was so sorry.  She asked if there was anything she could do.  No, what could anyone do at that point.  The proverbial rug (or, maybe more aptly the proverbial world flipped over- I don't think a rug quite covers the extent to what this situation caused) was just pulled out - I didn't know how to continue breathing, let alone what the next step was. 

I hung up my phone and just sobbed, then I realized I would have to call Trent and tell him, and my mom, and my sister, and work, and friends.......even if you've never lost a child I am sure the enormity of that responsibility is palpable.  I called Trent first, he didn't even know what to do (not that I did), but he actually said "I need to come home then right?" That was how much shock he was in.  He couldn't even find an answer to such a simple question.  He just cried and hung up the phone.  Then I realized he too had people to tell.  For goodness sake - he was sitting at his desk, surrounded by co-workers when I called.  I cried for him too.  Then calling my mom and sister was heartbreaking.  To tell a Grandma and the world's best Auntie that their grandson and nephew was dead.  I wasn't even present for those phone calls.  I cried and cried.  I cannot remember what they said.  I just remember their tears, their cracking voices, their pain - pain caused by news I had to share.  It was too much.  I curled up on my bathroom floor and heaved until there was nothing left.  Then i crawled over to my closet and cried laying on the floor on a stack of folded towels.  I remember hearing the children start to stir.  The thought of facing them seemed insurmountable.  The thought of having to tell them seemed too much, so I didn't.  I called day care and told her - said I would still bring the kids, but we'd be late.  I called a friend at work, asked her to tell my boss and co-workers.  I remember saying, I cannot face everyone.  I remember thinking, I cannot handle telling more people.  I cannot handle being present to see and hear more hearts aching.  I cannot handle other people's emotions right now.... I cannot even handle my own.  I called a few friends and left messages, strangely thankful at each person that didn't answer, 1 less reaction I had to hear. 

The next few hours were spent getting the kids to their various places so that they could go on with their day.  They knew something was up with mom and dad - but we weren't ready to break their little hearts yet.  We sat at home for a few hours before we had the go-ahead from social services to go down and at least meet him when he was finally born.  We drove down.  I remember picking out clothes for him to wear, a blanket for him.  I felt the need to do 'mother things' with him.  The drive down was beyond horrible.  Trent and I cried and cried.  It was raining very hard and I remember not being able to see the road well.  I remember wondering if I couldn't see the road because of the rain or my tears.  I remember being thankful that Trent was driving.  My stomach being in knots doesn't even begin to describe what i felt like.  I felt like at any moment I might start vomiting again.  I remember telling Trent several times to pull over - he just calming told me to breathe, I would be okay.

I remember sitting in an empty birthing room waiting for Corbin to be born.  I just kept thinking how things should have been so different.  How we should have been giddy with excitement.  How we would have had smiles from ear to ear waiting for him......  Then the door opened.  A nurse wheeled in one of those little baby beds, the ones from the nursery - the ones that hold those sweet little plump pink faces.  This one held a very dark colored, very still and cold baby.  I rushed over to him and picked him up just holding him to my chest, my tears streaking his face and arms.  I remember going straight to the rocking chair and singing him twinkle twinkle.  Telling him all about his siblings.  I closed my eyes over and over drinking in the smell of him, feeling the weight of him in my arms - knowing that I would ache to feel that weight in the coming years.  I remember seeing the look on Trent's face, seeing that he too wanted to hold his son.  I selfishly wanted every second with Corbin, I didn't want to share him, I didn't want to let go.  I handed him over to Trent who just rocked him and sobbed. 

I remember wanting to check out all of his little fingers and toes.  They were all perfect, everything was perfect.  The doctor came in to tell us he was sorry and that he hadn't yet found any cause of death, his cord and placenta were fine.  Then I remember the nurse saying it was time.  Time to say goodbye.  How does a mother do that?  I struggled to not just start screaming as I had to hand him over, to place him gently in his little bed, to watch him be wheeled away forever.  Never to see that sweet little face again.  I still have nightmares about those moments, it was beyond any describing words I can grasp at this point.  To have to physically let go was sickening.  To have to drive back home without him - but with the smell of him permeating our skin.  I didn't wash those clothes for months.  I just had them folded in the corner of my closet, I would just go sit with them and smell him.  To this day, I have never worn that outfit again.  I have worn each item separately and that is hard enough.  This may sound silly - but it puts me right back in that birthing room, writhing in pain, my eyes burning with tears of anger and sadness.  My heart breaking for Corbin, Trent, our children and myself.  It is more than I can handle at times...I have thought back on that day each and every day since.  I think I always will.  It is my physical connection to him, it was our only time in each others presence - even though he wasn't there. 

We celebrated Corbin's birthday by having dognuts and cupcakes for breakfast.  We talked about him a lot, we always do - but this time of year we talk about him more.  We sang happy birthday to him.  The kids had some great questions. 
"Is Corbin 2 in Heaven, or is he still a baby?"
"Who will help Corbin blow out his candles?"
"Do the Angels sing him happy birthday, or does God?"

I told them what I'd like to think was happening for Corbin's birthday in Heaven.  They didn't seem satisfied with my answers.  They wanted to have him here for his birthday.  "Can't he just come down for his birthday and then go back to Heaven?"  Man, wouldn't that be great if that could happen....

 Happy Birthday Corbin.  I think of you all the time.  I miss you more than I ever thought possible.  I cannot believe you would be 2, so hard to imagine what you'd be like these days.  I dream every day of the day I will be able to hold you in my arms again.  Save me a spot in Heaven buddy, until then, keep watching over us as I know you do.  I love you Corbin.

Love, Mommy

living with RAD

This past week has been a whirlwind of complicated issues with us.  Tomorrow is Corbin's 2nd birthday, the 2nd anniversary of the day he died, the day our world was crushed and changed forever.  Clearly that is difficult, the level of emotions in our home is high.  The kids didn't know it was coming, until I told them - they really didn't have any reaction to it, other than "oh, that's sad.  mom are you going to start crying all the time again?" that is pretty much what they associate with Corbin, mom and dad crying.  Sad.

Adrian is the other reason this house has been living in crisis mode.  Adrian has been completely and utterly out of control.  Living with Adrian is like living with a variety of natural disasters.  I am not calling him a natural disaster, but I am calling his behavior that.  Sometimes he appears to be having fun and following rules, then you turn your back and instantly another child starts screaming that Adrian did something to them.  Adrian, of course, denies this.  When Adrian denies something he doesn't just say, "no, I didn't do that".  He starts screaming, cursing, flopping his arms around, throwing toys, throwing children (Noah happened to be "in his way" during one of these rages) and doing a myriad of other inappropriate behavior.  Adrian has also been doing this when told "no" or when being told to stop doing something.  Of course he doesn't do it every time - but he is doing it a lot.  He did this the other day at school, on the play ground with his entire class watching.  His teacher watched him pick up a large stick and whip it way up into the air - she watched it with her own eyes - no mistake that he did it.  When called out on this he completely flipped out and started raging at his teacher.  She said she has never seen a child flip like that.  She said it was so clear that he was completely unable to control himself or stop himself.  She said it went on for about 5 minutes before she was able to get him to sit on the bench.  He sat on the bench for the rest of the time.  His teacher said he glared at her with more hatred than she has ever seen and mumbled mean things under his breath.  She said luckily there weren't any children near because she was fearful of him really hurting someone.  She said the other children were terrified.  The kids in his class are already scared of him, because when he is mad he tells them he is going to rip their teacher's head off and that he hates her and plenty of other mean and scary things.  The other kids pretty much steer clear of him, thankfully, otherwise someone really could have been hurt on Tuesday.  When it was time to go inside Adrian was clearly still dysregulated so the teacher dropped him off in the school social workers office, he continued his out of control behavior in there.  he spent quite a bit of time screaming at her, telling her she needed to turn the tv on for him - or do some other thing for him.  It was lunch time, clearly Adrian was not in any state to go into a busy lunch room.  So someone brought him his tray to eat in there.  After about 90 minutes the social worker said he was calm enough to re-enter the classroom.  So his little rage session lasted about 2 hours.  He is 6, what will this look like when he is 9, or 13 or even scarier 18? 

Living with a tornado is tough.  I am not complaining, just trying to get more people to understand what it is like to live with a child so greatly affected by trauma.  So affected that no matter how much we love him, it is still so very scary for him.  As a mom, it is very difficult to love a child who, at this time, does not have the ability to love me back.  I know he likes us, our family, I know he doesn't want to be anywhere else.  But, at the same time, living here in a loving family is so very terrifying for him.  Adrian has some big scary demons that he needs to learn how to let go of, or control.  Right now those demons are controlling him and we are in need of some serious help.  Adrian's siblings are scared of him right now.  They will play with him when he is happy and controlling himself - but when he starts to loose it, they all flinch and run for cover.  That is hard to see, it is difficult to watch 1 child have such an effect on my other children.  It. is. hard. 

I continue to have a lot of hope for Adrian, for his future.  But, I can also recognize that right now we cannot do this alone.  He needs more help, we need more help.  We cannot continue to help him heal when our minute to minute interactions are filled with so much stress and crisis.  Here is a good example;  I am a stay at home mom.  I spend my days with my children.  Adrian spends Monday through Friday at school.  His bus picks him up at 7:30 and drops him off at 3:30.  I have 8 hours of non-crisis.  usually some of that time is spent communicating with Adrian's psychologist, pediatrician, teacher, principal or someone else.  Some of that time is spent putting out the fires that Adrian lights in his other environments.  By about 2:30 I start to get a headache, by about 3:00 i have a stomach ache.  Every. Single. Day.  I am anxious about him getting home.  Anxious about what kind of mood he is coming home in.  Anxious about what kind of night we are going to have.  I have started to really try to do some calming techniques for myself, to be as calm as I possibly can when he walks through that door.  I am trying to be as positive and hopeful as possible.  Hoping that my positive attitude will eventually, one day, rub off on him. 

We are now headed in to see Adrian's psychologist, hoping she has some options for us.  We need options and we need them fast.  Trent and I are leaving tomorrow to attend a conference for parents of children from trauma and children with RAD.  We are excited for this conference.  We are hopeful that we will be able to learn something and make some connections with other parents.  Some badly needed connections.  We are also nervous - what will the weekend look like for the amazing person caring for our 4 older children (Stella is coming with us).  Hoping answers are about to be placed in front of us.