Sunday, November 6, 2011

She Took the Words Right Out of My Brain!


I received Jack in my arms on August 15, we arrived home in Baltimore on August 26, and since about August 29 I have felt terrible about feeling terrible about feeling lonely and isolated (and no those two things are not the same).  This morning, however, I was reminded yet again that I shouldn't feel this way about feeling this way because it is perfectly normal and totally expected for a mother with a recently adopted preschooler.

Yet still, over the past two months I have guarded my feelings (yes, really!), censored my words (yes, again) and basically shied away from stating the bone-marrow reaching deep down emotions I’ve felt because I was afraid I would come off as a bad mother.  That the many people who only know me because they knew Jack back when he was Jim at New Hope or Maria’s Big House would think I was awful and wonder if Jack coming to live in my care was a mistake.  Afraid all the caring, loving adoptive parents I know would see me as some horrible monster who at times doesn’t even want to deal with her own child who has way more issues to deal with than she could ever imagine and every reason in the world to have them.  Afraid that our social worker would somehow stumble upon my blog or get wind of a Facebook post or somehow hack my email, tap my phone or bug my freezer door and decide that I am obviously unfit as a mother and write a bad report for the CCCWA in China making our adoption agency want to yank Jack back out of our care.  Honestly – these things have truly crossed the divide of my cerebral cortex.  Okay, maybe not the listening device in the freezer thing, but more of the rest than you want to believe.

And so I have lived in the shadows, trying to put my best foot forward and hide behind my brave front – saying all the right things and professing God’s faithfulness.  And again, today I was reminded that I am not going through anything unusual or unexpected.  Everything I am feeling is totally normal and could have been predicted.  And I cannot tell you how completely freeing that moment of revelation was.  I’m back to thinking perhaps people will think I’m crazy again now, by the way, but in a much more limited scope…  And all of this because a blogger named Jen Hatmaker took the words I’ve been wrestling with right out of my brain and posted them on her blog.  There they are – all of the thoughts that have been floating around up there in that cerebral cortex place waiting for me to file a flight plane so they could land on a sheet of paper or appear on my computer screen – posted on a website (http://jenhatmaker.com/blog.htm) right under the title “How to Be the Village” just waiting for me, and for you, to read them.

So, go… Right now… Go read them.  What are you waiting for?  I just told you all my thoughts are there.  Why are you not clicking over?  Oh, you want me to finish these thoughts first?  Okay, I can understand that, but when I am done here you had better head over to the Hatmaker world and check out what I’m talking about because it is rather quite amazing.  But for now, I will get back on topic…

Recently I started an email to the many family members whom we will see on our Tennessee Thanksgiving trip trying to explain what I, no what Jack, need from them to stay emotionally healthy while meeting a gazillion new people at once.  I was struggling a bit with what I really wanted to say because I didn’t want to offend anybody.  I want all of Jack’s cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents to have the time of their life getting to know this newest member of our family, but I also want Jack to bond securely to Mom and to sisters amidst an onslaught of new faces too.   And, honestly, it is really hard to explain to people what your newly adopted child has been through, is working on, has accomplished  and needs to avoid without letting them in on the great secret of how just plain hard post-travel adoption life really is.  And that’s when all those I-can’t-say-that thoughts start swirling around again.  But then I read Mrs. Hatmaker’s blog and realized all those things in my head – they’re okay.  Anyone not living in my house may have no clue how much screaming and crying and fit throwing has gone on around here over the last 60 days, not to mention all of the emotional outburst from Jack too, but that doesn’t make them any less part of our current situation and I am not the only adoptive mom dealing with this stuff.

I believe my absolute favorite part of the “How to Be the Village” blog is the following (and I hope Mrs. Hatmaker doesn’t mind me sharing…):

For the next few months, do not assume the transition is easy. For 95% of us, it so is not. And this isn’t because our family is dysfunctional or our kids are lemons, but because this phase is so very hard on everyone. I can’t tell you how difficult it was to constantly hear: “You must be so happy!” and “Is life just so awesome now that they’re here??” and “Your family seems just perfect now!” I wanted that to be true so deeply, but I had no idea how to tell you that our home was actually a Trauma Center.

Do not act shocked if we tell you how hard the early stages are. Do not assume adoption was a mistake. Do not worry we have ruined our lives. Do not talk behind our backs about how terribly we’re doing and how you’re worried that we are suicidal. Do not ask thinly veiled questions implying that we are obviously doing something very, very wrong. Do not say things like, “I was so afraid it was going to be like this” or “Our other friends didn’t seem to have these issues at all.” Just let us struggle. Be our friends in the mess of it. We’ll get better.

You see, for the past two months life around here has been pretty messy.  I’ve blamed a lot of that on deployment often wondering why this time has been so much more draining than the other three but I think a lot of that blame has truly been misdirected.  Life is hard because adoption is HARD.  I totally understand where Mrs. Hatmaker is coming from.  There is nothing wrong with me and there is nothing wrong with Jack, but the combining of these two forces takes a lot of energy and the God’s honest truth is that for many of these past 60 days Jack's processes of adjusting and bonding have literally sucked the life right out of me.

I stopped posting on Jack’s blog for the reason I stated, that it was created to document our Journey to Jack and now that he is home the story is his to tell, but I also stopped posting because most days I simply had absolutely nothing positive to post.  I was exhausted.  Emotionally drained.  Frustrated with having the same battles about the same things all day long and into the night.  Ready to scream if he whined one more time and at my wit’s end about how to get Jack to talk to me instead of staring like a deer caught in a car’s headlights.  

For weeks I could not leave the house without him having a complete meltdown. And I still cannot leave him with a neighbor even for a doctor's appointment without the same.  I’ve been aggravated, agitated, frustrated, flustered, louder than I should be, meaner than I need to be, and just plain at a loss for what to try next.  I have dealt with tantrums, whining, quitting without trying, full-blown infant crying, blank stares, blatant defiance, refusal to sleep, peeing on the floor and spilt milk and that just covers Monday.  I’ve been in tears to my neighbors, vented passive aggressively on Facebook, sent out email cries for help, tried to find books to inspire me, requested prayers for patience, sent up prayers for salvation, cursed Yogurt Mountain for not delivering, and fallen asleep wondering what in all the world God was thinking because I simply cannot do this anymore.

I have had to teach Jack to use words and not whining.  Helped him transition from Chinese to English.  Trained him in the fine art of saying “NO” to both the dog and his sisters.  Forced him to stand up for himself when his two-year-old sister wants to hit him or take away a toy that he was playing with first.  We’ve gotten past asking for food only to waste it.  We’ve conquered the fear of toothbrushes that make noise.  We’ve killed intestinal parasites, visited the vampire lab more than once and the collected stool samples two too many times.  We’ve fought many a battle about sleeping at resting time and not sleeping to avoid socialization.  And today we navigated our way through our first someone-else-just-got-toys-for-their-birthday emotional rollercoaster.  And those are only the things I can remember at 12:30 a.m.

Because you see, life here is really not all the fun most of the time.  The girls are doing great.  They love Jack and they are really taking things in stride, but they’ve given up a lot because we simply don’t do much right now and a whole lot of Mom's time has been tied up with redirecting Jack.  And with Daddy gone activity opportunities are even more limited.  But I have not heard one of them truly complain.  Bicker about stupid stuff, yes.  Put up a fight against Mom and her wishes, of course.  But they are really troopers.  And even when I am sure they think I have completely lost my mind – because listening to your mother have an entire 5 minute conversation in broken English will do that for you – they have hung in there and backed me up with holding the standard attainably high for Jack in all areas.  But the truth stands - life here just ain't much fun most days. 

So, what about all that other stuff that I’ve been sharing so far?  Believe me none of that is fake.  I have never said or written a word that I don’t believe.  God truly is my rock, most days my faith is the only thing that gets me through, and my prayer life right now is incredible!  I really am a true underdog.  But all this other stuff is going on too – hiding right under the surface, camouflaged some days better than the rest, but there 24/7.  And as freeing as reading “How to Be the Village” was for me today, I am sure that all of that freedom will be lost once again when Jack's next tantrum hits or the whining begins again so please, feel free to remind me and feel free to ask how things are.  I’ll try not to bore you and I’ll try to keep my venting to a minimum, but as Mrs. Hatmaker says...

If I thought the waiting stage was hard, it does not even hold the barest candle to what comes after the airport. Not. The. Barest. Candle. Never have I felt so isolated and petrified. Never have I been so overwhelmed and exhausted. We need you after the airport way more than we ever needed you before.

and...

Please bring some community to our doorstep. Bring friendship back into our lives. Bring adult conversation and laughter. And bring an expensive bottle of wine.

Okay, not the wine since I won’t drink it, but frozen yogurt is always an option.  =)

Now go read her blog – it is definitely worth the five minutes of your time it will cost and she is way more prolific than I am.  

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.  Philippians 1:3-6

The LORD Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.  Deuteronomy 31:8

Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.  1 Corinthians 9:25-26

3 comments:

  1. Thank you so much for your honesty. It is so good to know the realities of life after our kiddos come home. They have lived through hell so it should be incredibly messy but I am sure I have no idea just how truly hard it is to be the one called to help them heal. We have walked with some friends through their adoption of their preschoolers over the last 18 months and it has been so good to see the realities and the difficulties but also how far they have come in such a short time. It is good for all of us to know how we need to reach out to other families in this time--even when the adoptive family cannot reach back. I pray for your family often but I need to be more faithful about praying for you each day and for Jack as he heals. Praying the Lord's abundant grace over you all in this very, very difficult time. Thank you again for sharing so honestly from your heart. It is so good for those of us on this journey to be prepared as much as we can even though I am sure I really have no idea just how hard it will be. Love to your family.
    rebekah
    p.s. have you had the chance to go to empowered to connect? If you ever get a chance, I totally recommend it. Not trying to give you advice but it is deeply encouraging to be around other families who are in this same boat and the hope offered is incredible.

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  2. Rebekah - Yes! I went this past April to the conference in April. I would have loved to go in Nashville but figured September was not going to be a great time to travel. Good thing I made that choice! AND I plan to go again in 2012, once again to Denver. When I talked to Dan about going again I told him that as much as I had learned the first time I know there is just a ton more I can get out it by going again. And I am VERY excited! Even have my childcare lined up already and I cannot even say that trying to run an errand these days. :

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  3. Just wanted you to know that we love you guys...no judgment at all - your children are blessed to have a mother who would struggle through all of this because it is really, really hard. Jen's post was wonderful and real too. If there are more ways that I can support you, please let me know! I am excited to see you again in November!

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