One Down, Two to Go

 A couple of weeks before school ended I did, in fact, get a call from Jill’s new principal (see this post).  I literally held my breath when he introduced himself and I thought “Now what?”  I was so relieved and pleasantly surprised when he told me the reason for his call was to let me know that Jill’s teacher recognized her for performing better in all three areas of statewide testing than she had the previous year.  This principal is new and although I didn’t realize till halfway through the call that he was on speakerphone with Jill in his office, I did blurt out  “I’m just so relieved because usually when I get a call it’s not to report good news!”

As for Em, she graduated from high school! No, she still doesn’t have her driver’s license or a job, but I am elated that I can at least cross that accomplishment off of my “Parenting To Do” List.

I was a little sad that my parents aren’t alive to see Em graduate, but in addition to our side of the family, her birth mom and birth family showed up to support her on that milestone day of her high school graduation.  I was able to meet Em’s birth aunt for the first time that day as well as Em’s maternal birth grandparents.  Sadly, it was apparent that Em’s birth grandma was in an “altered” state that even Jack commented on afterwards.  When we first met with Em’s birth mom before the adoption was opened up a couple of years ago, Em’s birth mom told us that she didn’t feel comfortable with Em meeting her parents as they both have histories of active substance abuse.  She has since changed her mind and they’ve met a couple of times at public family gatherings.  Em came home after one Christmas party with a couple of gifts they gave her-both reeking of smoke- so I threw the washable gift (a sweater) in the wash as soon as I got it and Em has treasured the other gift  regardless of the lingering smell.

When I met Em’s maternal birth aunt after the graduation ceremony but before we busied ourselves taking pictures, she looked me in the eyes and said, “You’ve done a good job with her.”  She was so sincere as she said it. I was touched and just replied a sincere “Thank you.”

“One Down, Two to Go”- The title of this post has dual meaning: one down, two to go refers to the fact that one of our children has graduated from high school and we have two more yet to graduate.  “One Down, Two to Go” also refers to when I was originally going to post this- when we were one month into summer vacation and had two more months to go.  However, summer is winding down, and school is now less than a month away!  Jack and Jill will be in junior high together next school year and although we have money set aside for Em’s post high-school education she has not yet committed to a specific school or program.  Although we’d prefer her to be working or in school my husband and I are trying our hardest to be encouraging rather than making her feel pressured.  We’ve also decided that she deserves to take a break during the summer so we’re trying really hard to let her have a few months of taking it easy until we increase any expectations of her.

I know I’ve referred to the saying “Comparison is the thief of joy” before and the last couple of months watching some of Em’s friends and schoolmates announce their plans after graduation- some even getting scholarships, I have to remember NOT to compare my kids to other kids, especially keeping in mind that although they may be the same age chronologically, that doesn’t mean they are at the same stage developmentally or that they come from the same backgrounds or have faced the same challenges.

I hate to admit it, but as my children get older I often wonder “How differently would they be if they hadn’t been exposed to drugs in utero?” “What mental illnesses or challenges would they have developed from my husband and I if they were are biological children versus from their actual DNA?”  Of course I would love my children no matter what- but it’s a type of loss I’m willing to acknowledge.  I’m past child-bearing age and old enough to be a grandma now, but I still recognize that although adoption can be a “cure” for childlessness, it is not a cure for some of the stings of infertility.

Top 70 Foster Blogs

 I was looking through my emails this morning and came across one which I initially thought might be junk mail.  It turns out this blog was "selected by FeedSpot as one of the Top 70 Foster Blogs on the web."

I am spreading the word by mentioning the Top 70 Foster Blogs here.

A couple clarifications on this description: Yes, I have adopted three children, but only two of those were through the foster care system while our first adoption was a private domestic adoption.  I also think it's interesting that my blog is categorized as "Christian" because although I didn't set out to be a Christian blog, I guess I have, in fact, mentioned God and prayer and following the promptings of the Holy Spirit.

I remember before I went back to graduate school and entered the [paid] workforce how this blog would be so cathartic for me to get out my feelings and pass on a few things I'd learned.  Although I would love to continue advocating it's a bit tricky to use a public platform to "vent" about experiences, especially when they involve my real-life children.  I've always used pseudonyms to protect privacy, but at the same time it's not too hard to put two and two together .

Anyway, maybe you can discover some new blogs to follow through the list I shared and know that although I haven't put the time into writing here as I used to, I constantly have things brewing in my head. Taking the time to get them out on the keyboard is that hard part!

Jill at 12 1/2 Years Old

Jill’s elementary school got a new principal halfway through the year and I am pleased to announce that she has not yet been called to his office.  However, on average, we get about one email a month from Jill’s sixth grade teacher with a report of something concerning that our daughter has said or done that needs to be brought to our attention.  Just yesterday the subject line from her teacher read “Incident yesterday”.  I panic whenever I get these emails and as I proceed to read what happened I shake my head and think “Why would she do that?”  Her teachers must think we’re the worst parents ever to have a child act like that.”

In reality, Jill’s teachers the past couple of years have been very patient.  I think it helps when I am actively involved in going to parent teacher conferences and IEP meetings or, in the past, volunteering when I can so they know I’m not a deadbeat and she doesn’t come from a “broken home.”

Although Jill usually reserves her meltdowns for home she did recently break down at a friend’s house to the point that her friend’s mom contacted me afterwards and diplomatically asked, “How can we best support Jill (and you) the next time that happens?” I appreciated this mom’s approach as I was already feeling on the defensive about how Jill’s behavior might be a reflection of our family life or of my ability to parent.  I gave this mom a little more background on Jill- some of which she wasn’t aware- and that seemed helpful.

Since graduating from her IOP earlier this year, Jill has been getting two different therapies: Play therapy with my husband and I to increase attachment and individual therapy (at her request) with a new therapist who I chose for her specifically because she has experience  working with kids with conduct disorder.  Although Jill has never been officially diagnosed with conduct disorder, I figure some of the symptoms of PDA and autism can be pretty similar.

Unlike me, who am trained in PCIT (Parent-Child Interaction Therapy), Jill’s play therapist is trained in Theraplay, and is the most gentle and patient woman ever- think of if Mr. Rogers was a woman.  Of course, some of the activities have had to be modified to be more appropriate for a pre-teen than a child and it took a bit for this play therapist to get used to Jill’s dark humor when she would say something inappropriate or outright weird.

Jill starts junior high next year and I’m grateful that Jack is just a year older than she is to keep an eye out for her.  They are the only two people in our family who share DNA as full biological siblings, and yet they couldn’t be more different in temperament.  Jack is more like my husband and I- conscientious and fairly responsible (though often forgetful) and pretty mellow, while Jill couldn’t care less what people think of her and she can go from 0-60 in rapid mood changes.  I’ve also learned over the past couple of years that females with autism are more likely to experience PMDD, so that’s gonna make for some extra fun teenage years if that applies to Jill.

One example of how Jill doesn’t care what people think is when I was getting ready for church one morning and I was delighted that she chose to come that day.  I was in the shower and heard some banging and yelling at the bathroom door.  “I’m in the SHOWER- I can’t talk right now- What do you need? Is it an emergency?”  I turned off the water when the yelling persisted and Jill proceeded to say- “Mom- I want to wear a suit and tie to church!”  My enthusiasm at her coming to church that day was immediately deflated and I thought, ‘I can’t deal with this right now.”  I know that it doesn’t matter what anyone wears to church because “The Lord looketh on the heart.” but it’s especially awkward when your husband happens to be the leader of the congregation and you feel (whether accurate or not) that your family is under extra scrutiny.   She ended up wearing a hoodie over her dress that day and hasn’t brought it up again yet.

On a more serious note, Jill has only had one incident of self-harm since graduating from her IOP. She’s not even a teenager yet and I’m aware that things could be so much worse, but boy do we worry about her future. One day Em even confessed to me “Mom- Jill scares me.”  This coming from a sister who is six years older.   I never thought I’d be a parent who would be dealing with some of the issues I’ve dealt with the past couple of years.  It’s been truly humbling.

On that note, I want to give s shoutout to Cheryl Cardall and her Love Like A Motherr nonprofit organization which supports moms of kids with intense mental health concerns.  I discovered Cheryl’s podcast, Fight Like a Mother, a year or so ago and met Cheryl briefly in person at a conference last year.  She oozed sincerity and goodness as I heard her share some of her parenting experiences and I hope that any other parents out there who are experiencing similar parenting challenges can feel like they’re not so alone by the resources she offers.

Em's Moms

I mentioned back in this post that I hadn’t talked to Em’s birth mom since Em left home for 7 weeks to live with her.  Although she’s not living with her anymore, Em still keeps in touch with her birth mom and occasionally will even spend the night if they hang out too late together as Em still doesn’t have her driver’s license and can’t drive herself home.

It wasn’t until an emergency last month that brought Em’s birth mom and I (and my husband) to interact with each other again.  I got a text from Em the night before that she would be spending the night at her birth mom’s after a family party went late.  I admit, I tried to talk her out of going in the first place as she had missed some school that week from being sick and she still seemed pretty run down.  It was a school night that night so my biggest concern was that Em made it to school on time the next day as she is just months away from graduating from high school and she can’t afford to miss any school or get behind in her classes.

The next morning as I was getting my younger kids off to school and getting ready to go to work I checked my phone to see if Em would make it to school on time for her first class (she has enough credits that she can sleep in as a “home release” for her first two classes both A and B days of school which has been beneficial for her emotional and physical health).  “Oh good!” I thought to myself as I saw her location-“they’re headed in the right direction on the freeway for her to get to school on time.”  My husband happened to be working from home that day, and I guess great minds think alike (and/or we’re both naturally overprotective) because a few minutes later he came hurriedly upstairs after he had checked to make sure Em made it to school and asked me with concern in his voice, “Why is Em’s location showing the hospital?  It even looks like it’s in the E.R.?”

My heart started racing and I checked my phone to confirm Em’s latest location and sure enough, her location showed she was at a hospital.  I immediately texted Em and tried calling her but she was not answering.  Of course, emergencies only happen at inconvenient times, so although I normally don’t drive my youngest daughter to school, as soon as I texted Em’s birth mom to find out what was going on I had to drop Jill off at school that morning so that her creative but bulky Valentine’s Day box wouldn’t get ruined on the bus.

“Is Em okay?  I texted. She’s not returning my texts or answering my calls and her location shows the hospital.”  A few minutes later I got the response “No- she’s not.  I was driving her to school and she said her stomach hurt and then she passed out.  I couldn’t revive her, so I took her to the ER.” 

My husband headed to the hospital while I drove my youngest to school while simultaneously using voice command to send messages to my boss and clients that I’d have to cancel appointments for the day due to an emergency- all the while not knowing if it would turn out to be a “big” or a “little” emergency.

After I dropped Jill off to school I began to imagine all sorts of scenarios, and because my mind naturally goes to the worst case, I thought to myself, “If this incident has anything whatsoever to do with drugs or alcohol Em is cutting off ALL contact with her birth mom.”  Em’s birth mom has worked very hard to remain sober, so although it wasn’t a likely scenario, you never know.  I knew the stomach pain wasn’t appendicitis because Em had an emergency appendectomy a couple of years ago.  “Shoot- what if she’s pregnant!” Also highly unlikely for good reasons, but still a possibility.  And then as I was rushing to get to the hospital amid all of my panic and racing thoughts I had the distinct impression come to me that I needed to be gentle and loving towards Em’s birth mom.  I’m not normally a mean person, but my Mama Bear instincts were revving up and I was admittedly annoyed that I was the one who had to reach out to Em’s birth mom first to find out my child was in the hospital, rather than her immediately calling me or my husband and letting us know.

When I arrived at the ER and announced which patient I was looking for a nurse came out and asked, “How are you related to the patient?”  “I’m mom.” I answered- somewhat more emphatically than I expected.  The nurse hesitated for a moment and then said, “Okay . . . just making sure” and showed me to the room where my husband and Em’s birth mom already were. It must have been kind of confusing for one “mom” to bring a daughter in and then have another “mom” come.  In addition, when the nurses and staff were talking to us  it was a little awkward as they wanted to communicate with all three of us, but weren’t sure who to turn and look at as they directed their questions and updates.

As soon as I saw Em’s birth mom in the room I went up to her and gave her a hug.  She looked somewhat surprised and a little relieved. Maybe she thought I was going to chew her out or place blame.  I’m not normally a hugger, but l felt an undeniable prompting to be gentle and loving and it’s like some force outside of myself was propelling me to make that gesture.

Em had at least one IV hooked up to her as well as an oxygen mask over her face.  The dr explained that her oxygen was low on arrival. Apparently they also had also inserted a catheter and had to cut into some of her clothes. 

“I told them she has POTS,” Em’s birth mom exclaimed . . . but I don’t know which medications she’s on.”  When the nurses made room and it was safe to do so my husband moved to Em’s bed and held her hand and began talking to her.  Although she was still pretty out of it, she was able to squeeze his hand to let him know she could hear him.  Meanwhile, I sat down in a chair next to a nurse at a computer and started rattling off all of Em’s medications as well as her diagnoses.  Em’s birth mom looked a little intimidated and flustered in a way.

The good news is that Em only had to spend about four hours in the ER that morning before becoming stable enough to be discharged and come home.  I felt bad that I had to cancel my clients that day- although I knew that none of them were in active crisis situations.  It felt good to stay home with Em and take care of her because she’s at an age and stage in her life when she wants to be so independent that she is somewhat resistant to letting me care for her and she sees any attempts of doing so on my part as me trying to “control” her while I view it as simply supporting her and being her parent.

The most concerning part of that day was not knowing exactly what triggered Em’s episode- other than her history of POTS. Em’s birth mom listed off everything to the hospital staff that Em had eaten the night before and that morning – nothing new- and the only medication she had taken that morning were her ADHD meds and some cold medicine as she was getting over being sick.  The doctor told us that he was a little worried when first Em arrived at the ER because her glassy eyed look and state of unresponsiveness reminded him of recent patients he had seen who have come in after overdosing on Benadryl- even going so far as to hallucinate and try and grab things that weren’t really there. But Em isn’t dumb enough to do that.

A tox screen was done as well as other lab work and at least one ultrasound to rule things out. No drugs or alcohol were involved.  Maybe it was just a matter of Em’s body being run down in the first place.  And, of course, morning coffee certainly doesn’t help with tachycardia symptoms (Em has stated that’s one of the reasons she likes her birth mom’s house over ours- her birth mom always has coffee and we don’t have any).  Most of the time when Em has issues with racing heart and dizziness it’s considered “pre-syncope”- feeling like she’s going to pass out- but rarely does she get to the point of actually passing out. We had a scary experience over the summer after she got her wisdom teeth out and had a bad reaction to the anesthesia while recovering at home. We couldn’t get her fully awake and when the paramedics arrived at our house and took her blood pressure and heart rate and saw the results they immediately asked “Which ER do you want us to take her to?”

The week after Em’s recent ER visit I followed up by getting her in to a specialist who had seen her before who ordered a few more tests and then went over treatment options, including reminders of the things she should already be doing: drink plenty of water and electrolytes, increase salt intake, avoid caffeine, wear compression socks or her abdominal binder, and continue in physical therapy. No new medication will be prescribed until she does all those things and they don’t relieve her symptoms.  Em has done physical therapy previously to build up her stamina as well as to help with hypermobility issues (it’s possible she has Ehlers Danlos as well, but if so it’s a mild case).  Although at the appointment she told the nurse “I guess I could do PT again if it’s not on the days I exercise at school in yoga class” (which would make her too tired to do both) when I tried making an appointment for her a couple days later she said “I don’t have to go because I’m 18 now.”  But it’s part of your recommended treatment plan!” I retorted. “I don’t want you to end up in the ER or Instacare again!”  (A couple of weeks earlier she kept stumbling at school despite the fact that she had eaten and worn her compression socks that day.  It’s the weirdest thing to see happen because her legs just “give out” and she looks like a drunk person walking.  I thought she may have been dehydrated and needed an IV which is why I took her to InstaCare, but by the time we saw the dr her legs were well enough that she could get out of the wheelchair they put her in when she arrived.)

It’s an awkward position to be in when you’re parenting an 18 year old who wants all the freedom of adulthood but not necessarily the responsibilities that come with taking care of yourself and being independent.  Speaking of being independent, Em has expressed that if she does leave home after graduating from high school since she already gave living with her birth mom a try and that didn’t work out as a permanent option, she would like to move in with her boyfriend and his family.  I try to remain calm and not overreact when she brings it up, but when I ask logical questions like “Are you going to pay rent?”  “Are you going to pay for your shampoo and makeup?” she just gets annoyed with me.

It also makes me wonder, “Is our house (and family) really that bad?”  Occasionally Em will dramatically complain that “We don’t have any good food in the house! I bet ______ (my birth mom) would take me to Chik-Fil-A right now if I asked!” I try to let complaints like that slide and usually just end up rolling my eyes.  Those reasons to move out seem so superficial to me.  But a couple of months ago Em did bring up a legitimate reason that I honestly hadn’t considered from her perspective.  She mentioned that one of the reasons she wanted to leave our house in the first place and live with her birth mom is because our house can get so noisy- mostly because of when Jill has meltdowns and yells. And although I’d like to say that I always remain calm when my child is out of control- especially when she’s throwing things, hitting or kicking us, or swearing at us- the truth is that sometimes I just get so frustrated that I can’t help but yell back.

Last week Em had Senior Prom so she invited her birth mom and biological half sister to our house before the dance to do her hair and makeup.  I was cordial, but tried giving them their “space” as well- (even though it was in my own home).  It’s an interesting dynamic but for now we’re in a good place.  I would love Em to spend Easter weekend with our family but I also know that her birth mom has talked about plans as well.  I hate when it feels like a competition.

Reunion with Molly

Last week I received a notification on my phone with a message from someone I had never met. The woman who sent the message explained that she was looking for her daughter's former foster mom from when her daughter was a baby and she wondered if it could possibly be me. When I read the name of the baby my eyes almost popped out of my head and my heart started pounding . . . It was Molly! 

 

If you're new to this blog, "Molly" is the name of our second foster child who was placed with us from the time she was 4 months old till she was almost a year old. Consequently, she had lots of firsts with us: first words, first solid foods, first steps, etc. I replied almost immediately in the affirmative "Yes! We fostered her." Of course, that was 18 years ago so I was astounded when Molly's mom replied back with pictures of a gorgeous young woman rather than the sweet baby we once loved. Her face and smile were the same- but she was all grown up! 

Molly's mom explained that she was trying to help Molly fill in some of the gaps of her history, including the time she was placed with us, as Molly had heard differing accounts. Molly's mom also asked, "Do you have any baby pictures of her?" I sent her a few pictures from my private blog, which, thankfully, also included a few updates about developmental milestones. I admit that I had to come back to the "About Me" section of this blog to make sure I had the dates of her placement with us and different hearings correct.

I had a lot of questions about Molly's life as well, including her relationship with her birth parents and their status. Molly's mom was more than happy to bring me up to speed about what had happened to Molly from the time she left our home, including being in the care of a relative, being adopted (her birth parents eventually relinquished their parental rights), being separated from her little brother who was adopted into a non-familial family, and eventually moving into the same neighborhood as this woman who hasn't officially adopted her (yet), but who has been raising her as one of her own children along with her other children for over a decade now. Molly's history also included some tragedy and I was saddened to hear that. 

Over the next couple of days Molly's mother and I exchanged more information through messaging and in addition to some of Molly's hardships I learned of some of her accomplishments: She has graduated from high school, has her drivers license, and is currently working as a CNA and deciding what route she'd like to go for college. 

Molly's mom initially prefaced her initial message with something like "If you aren't interested in providing information or having contact that's fine, but if you are interested in at least answering some questions, that would be wonderful." When I told my husband about the initial message he was shocked but also as ecstatic as I was, so it really wasn't a question of "Do we want contact?" but "How is this going to work out?" In addition, you know how some people are just really easy to get along with and you just seem to "click"? That's how I felt when I was interacting with Molly's mom so I was more than happy to answer questions and things felt natural with her rather than forced or awkward. 

YESTERDAY My husband and I were reunited with Molly thanks to her mom, who, much to her credit, kept it all a secret from Molly for over a week. There were a lot of tears on my part and Molly was so delighted to see the pictures we gave her of when she was a baby, as well as to read about and hear about what she was like when she was with us. We were able to answer some questions for her and provide a clarification of events from when she was placed with us, then went back to her birth parents and then when she came back into care up to when she was placed with a relative. Molly's mom referred to finding me as a tender mercy and I feel the same way.