Making A Home

Just got an update...

From K's new family.

"Hi Hilary,
I just wanted to let you know that everything is going great. You were right everytime she is fussy it is food or nap time. Thanks for all the supplies. We are getting everything organized.
Thanks again," 

I'm glad she's doing well.  I really want her to do well and adjust and attach.  I really don't think she'll be returned to our family (except that few days next week before her final departure), so as much as (I admit) part of me wanted her to miss me, I'm pleased with the a good report.  It was thoughtful of them to update me.  I am hopeful we can build a rapport and connection with her new family, and hopefully not completely miss out on the rest of her life.

2 hours...

Just 2 hours until I hand my baby over to her new family.  She'll be gone until Monday, then back for a few days before leaving permanently.  Poor thing's getting smothered by me this morning (not to mention, by her siblings).  How do I cram enough love in her to last her the whole weekend? 

I know there are a lot of people praying for our family today, and I am very thankful.

I sent this info to the new family last night, thought I'd record it here, too:

K’s Best (Stuffed) Friends

“Baby”

 

The soft purple doll (Love Bug) was a gift from us to K for Valentine’s Day. We call her “Baby.” (As in “K, do you want Baby?“) I chose the love bug for her first doll because I called K “pincher bug” at the time. From the very first day we brought her home from the hospital, while I would feed K, she would reach her little hand under my arm, grab my tricep and pinch… HARD! Occasionally if she’s uneasy, she’ll still grab the skin on my arm and hold on tight. (Yes, it hurts! But it’s a source of comfort to her.) When she first started to snuggle “Baby”, we would recite the verse:

“Love the baby,
Hug the baby,
Chew on the baby’s antennas.”

And she would. I know it sounds a little strange, but I‘m sharing it because it’s something familiar to her, and she’s going to need familiar. She likes to hold her, look at her, and play with the little wisp of brown hair, or her antennas, of course.  And most recently... throw her!

　

“Horror Cow”



K got the little blue and white cow in her stocking from us, on her first Christmas. Around that time, our other children were deep into the book series of “How to Train Your Dragon.” (We home school and they read A LOT.) I don’t know if you are familiar with the series (which is quite different from the movie), but in the first book, a group of young Vikings go on a quest to catch their first dragons. Fearing exile for his friend Fishlegs by not having caught a dragon, the main character, Hiccup makes a huge sacrifice by giving the dragon he caught to his friend, and narrowly escapes exile himself by swiping a teeny-tiny dragon at the last second while being chased out of the cave by an angry swarm of dragons he had accidentally awakened.

“Fishlegs had named his dragon Horrorcow. The “horror” bit was to make the poor creature sound at least a bit frightening. The “cow” bit was because for a dragon, she really was remarkably like a cow. She was a large, peaceful, brown creature, with an easygoing nature. Fishlegs suspected she might even be vegetarian.”

So it’s a tongue-in-cheek name. K’s stuffed cow is about the sweetest, gentlest looking creature you could imagine… just like the dragon Horrorcow in the books. We sometimes make her look like she’s flying to K… like she’s a dragon and not a cow. Just yesterday, K added to her vocabulary, “cow”, while she was playing with Horror Cow. (The other words she says discriminately are “Mama” and “Up.”)

First Visit

Baby K leaves for her first visit tomorrow.  Brian and the kids will say goodbye at home, then I'll take her (and the first bin of her belongings) to a local park to meet her new family.  She'll meet them with me present for maybe a couple of minutes... then they'll load her in their fancy expensive car and drive away, thrilled as can be.  And I'll go cry in my car for a while before driving to a doctor's appointment that's been set up for weeks.  After which I'll come home without my baby.

This isn't for good just yet.  We'll get her back on Monday, for a few days.  We've asked them to meet us outside the attachment therapist's office.  It's convenient for us (since we'll be down there for the other children's appointments anyway), it's convenient for them (30 minutes from their home instead of over 2 hours.), and my hope is that they'll log the office somewhere in the back of their memories... so that when K and her brother are a bit older and starts showing signs... they'll go to this office for help and not waste precious time with counselors who don't understand. 

In a few minutes, we'll have a visitor here at our house.  K's transporter (who for months has been picking K up for her birthparent visits, supervising and reporting to the SW about the visits, then dropping her back off at home) is having a hard time with the judge's ruling, too.  She said she'd been "melancholy" all day yesterday and couldn't get K off her mind.  Since her new family is in a different area, she was concerned she wouldn't see her again (which is a very real possibility), so she asked if she could stop by, and of course I said yes.  Guess I better make myself and this place presentable...

Heartbroken.

They wouldn’t let me turn anything in to the court or speak.  They granted the move to her biological brother's house.  Strangers.  Fine people, I'm sure, but it's NOT what was best for this baby girl.

The state wants to start the transition right away.  I had to BEG them to let me talk to our attachment therapist for advice before making the transition plan. Don't know if they'll accept his recommendations, but he favors a shorter transition.  Babies don't understand "getting to know" a family.  They just feel the abandonment over and over throughout the transition period.

They wanted to let the brother’s family take her for a few hours RIGHT THEN.  I told them I really needed to be able to go home and talk to my family first, so they agreed to hold off for a few days... at which time the SW wants to have them take her for the whole weekend.  She’s never spent a single night away from me.  I cried for a good 2 hours.  My eyes are dry, but my heart is heavy.

We can't do this anymore.  Can't do this to our children.  Another hurt, another abandonment for them... they've been through enough. We are done.

Therapy Update

So... I told you we'd found a spectacular therapist for Molly.  We drive an hour and a half each way (well, more like an hour and a half there, three hours back) to get to his office, but he's worth it.  Everything I've read about GREAT attachment therapy matches up with exactly what he's doing, so I have a lot of confidence in his ability.

Last weekend he e-mailed me to let me know he'd be in town visiting a friend, and wondering if I'd like him to stop by.  (He wanted to confront Molly about the holes she has kicked in the walls in her room, and hopefully interrupt a tantrum.)  Yes, please!  Her bedroom is very small, but I was impressed with the way he strategically stood in her room (with us nearby), taking command of the space.  He made it apparent that she would have to answer to him when she destroyed things in anger - that she wouldn't get away with acting out her anger instead of speaking it just because his office was far away.  Let me be clear, he's not mean to them... but he's direct and speaks with authority (and experience), which is exactly what these children who strive for constant control need.

While he was here, he also took the opportunity to talk with the other children for a few minutes.  The timing was perfect... since they ALL had appointments with him the next day! 

I won't share a lot about the session itself, since this is my children's journey and not public.  But I will say I was shocked by some of my children's behaviors and answers in the office.  I learned a ton about one of my children, making me question much of what I'd previously thought about that one, and one other child opted for outright defiance and pitched a fit right there in the office!  If I could summarize the visit, I would say I came to the conclusion that even the children we've had since we were very young have some serious attachment issues.  (And lest you think the therapist is telling us this to drum up more business... he didn't.  Those conclusions were from my own observations.)  I again am anxiously awaiting our next visit (this afternoon), and remain so thankful that we found this therapist.

I would go as far as to say we feel like we have an answer to why we are going through all of this turmoil with Malaika... because without it we never would have fought to seek out an expert in attachment that will be able to ultimately help ALL of our children. 

Unfortunately in the midst of the stress (between the attachment stuff, and Baby K's uncertainty, and just the trials of life itself, I'm finding myself battling a pretty big war with depression.  And that's very new for me.  I have yet to figure out what to do about it, but there it is.

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to my dad, Gene. 

 

My stepdad, Bruce...

 
And my husband, Brian...

 
Thankful for all of you and the roles you play in my life and those of my children. 

Fighting

Yes, I did send the letter to Baby K's Guardian Ad Litem.  In fact, it was an afterthought to remove the names and post it on my blog.  But I thought it the best way to share my authentic thoughts and the current happenings.

The GAL and I went back and forth several times that day.  She, quoting "policy", me trying to gently remind her (again and again) that policy is the job of the social workers... her job is to do what's in the best interest of this baby.  After the last e-mail from her, I didn't have it in me to respond again.  I was getting nowhere.  She informed me that just recently the birthmom's lawyer represented the party in another case... where the judge granted placement of an infant with it's 75 year old grandmother.  (K's great grandma that wants her is around 70.) 

Please don't misunderstand me... I value the role of family in a child's life, perhaps especially grandparents - the wisdom and experience that comes with age is invaluable, not to mention that special, doting love reserved only for grandchildren.  I appreciate that these grandmothers care enough about these babies to want to take them in.  But it seems so very unwise to put these tiny babies in the care of someone who will be in their 90s by the time they are grown... and won't necessarily make it that far.  How is that what's best for the child?

She also informed me of several cases recently, judged by this same commissioner, where children were in a stable, loving pre-adopt home for a year or more, and the commissioner granted custody to relatives, forcing the children to leave behind attachment and familiarity for the sake of "blood."  At the heart of my argument (an excerpt from one of my other e-mails to the GAL on Wednesday):

There NEEDS to be a distinction made in the law between people who happen to be related by blood, and those who are actually involved in a child's life. For the sake of attachment and continuity, a very involved neighbor is a more reasonable placement for a child than a relative they don't know, and siblings who have never met are a completely different situation than those who came into care together!

Things don't look promising, but we are refusing to give up.  God put this baby in our home for a reason, and we're not going to fail her.  Not with as much as we now know about attachment and the disastrous results of breaking them.  We'll do everything we can, and thankfully there's more proactive steps we can take than I realized, so that's the busy path I'm on this weekend.

I met with a friend in Seattle yesterday.  I dropped Brian and the children at the zoo, and headed to Starbucks to meet with her.  She has worked in the adoption field for a very long time, and contacted me to discuss some ideas. I'm SO glad she did... she had great info I likely wouldn't have thought of.  So thankful.

First on the list was to contact our adoption agency.  We have worked with them for 10 years, I have kept them abreast of the situation with K, and since termination has been filed for these birthparents, K should be considered "pre-adopt", which should bring our agency into the picture.  (Not to mention, they have a new program director who worked with the state for many years, and would hopefully be a help to our case by having that unique perspective.  Unfortunately I hit a roadblock there pretty much right away.  They are holding tight to "she's not legally free and we didn't place her with you."  Frustrating, considering how involved and helpful they were in Gideon and Molly's situation, who were also not legally free, nor were they placed by the agency.  But I did get a promise of a letter regarding our family's experience and ability to nurture and tackle the unique needs of adopted children.  So that's some help, at least.

Our therapist (who is now working with all FOUR of our big kids... wow.  That's for another post.) also offered to write a letter, stating his observations of us with K as well as the detriment it would be to break that attachment.  He's a veritable expert in the field of attachment and adoption, so hopefully that will hold some weight.

When I met up with Brian and the children at the zoo, I also took a minute to call K's pediatrician and ask her for a letter as well.  She has always been very supportive of her staying with us, and I'm hopeful she can write something to help our case, too.

A friend who has the same GAL for her daughter was able to get me the GAL's supervisor's contact info, so I'll be writing to her today with my concerns about the way things are going.  (Because honestly, I don't think she's doing her job, but I hope to come up with a better, less accusatory and offensive way to say that.)

I'll be contacting our lawyer.  (To be quite honest, I forgot we had one!  But my dear friend reminded me that we DO have an attorney, who has helped with our last 3 adoption and who has handled cases similar to this one... so I'll e-mail him today to see what, he can do for us.)

Beyond that, I'll be writing a letter to submit to K's file and another to the judge stating all of the reasons moving K would be devastating to her, and why leaving her here would be in her best interest.  I also need to formulate a "speech" of sorts - something concise to say in court on Tuesday, as it could be my very last chance.  The judge could decide K needs to be with her bio brother and order her moved THAT DAY!  Speaking in court is my one last chance... and I'm terrified.  I can write any letter I need to, but public speaking?  Heck, even PHONE CALLS unnerve me!  I speak much more clearly though my typing fingers than my mouth.  But it's what needs to be done, and of course I'll do it.  For K.

Dear Guardian Ad Litem,

I don’t know exactly what to say at this point.  You had offered to keep us in the loop as far as things were developing, and it seems that hasn’t been the case.  We were informed Monday that you were filing a motion to have K moved to the adoptive home of the biological brother she has never met.  I am sad and I am angry. 

 

I know we agree that it is not in K’s best interest to be moved to her great grandma’s house for a variety of reasons.

 

But I think we can also agree it is not in K’s best interest to be placed with strangers, to lose the only family she knows and loves and to be subjected to the pain and horror of attachment disorder.  This will be K’s second broken attachment in the first year of life.  She is being set up for failure.  (I am in no way being over-dramatic, and can direct you to resources on Reactive Attachment Disorder if it will have any bearing on this case or even any future child you are assigned to advocate for.)  Breaking attachments – especially healthy attachments – for these children is cruel and wrong.

 

I am heartbroken over a system that should have so much access to training and research and information, but ignores the implications of these moves in favor of badly-written or badly-interpreted policies, and continues to cause more damage to the children they are supposed to be working to protect.

 

Sincerely,

Hilary

(K’s foster mom)

 

I'm going to ORLANDO!!!

A friend e-mailed me a week ago to tell me about an upcoming retreat for parents of children with Reactive Attachment Disorder.  Not a conference, not a seminar (as much as I need and will be seeking out those, too), this is a GETAWAY.  3 days in Orlando with about 86 other moms that "get it."  No real agenda, no classes (unless you count light topics like "blogging, homeschooling, henna tattoos and reiki"), but every bit of it optional.  Respite, relaxation, and a break from the drama and the trauma.

While I mean no disrespect to any of you, and know everyone has their struggles... unless you are parenting a hurt, traumatized, attachment-disordered child, you just can't possibly understand what it's like.  Please don't judge.  While some of our interventions may not seem to make sense... unless you're living it, I'll have to ask you to just accept that we are doing everything we can and trying our very best to heal a housefull of very damaged children.  Every moment of every day is embroiled in fear and anger and control and most recently... destruction.

 
When a certain child of mine was not safe to have around the other children because of the intensity of her tantrum the other day (screaming, hurling insults, throwing things), I sent her to her bed to calm down.  This was the result.  She kicked two holes in her wall - about 18" in diameter each.  Our therapist warned us at our first visit "It will get worse before it gets better."  Boy, was he right.  This ugliness, evidently, is a very good sign.

She was also opening up more (sharing feelings) at yesterday's appointment.  He says it's amazing that with these hurt children things will come out from YEARS ago... because actions don't get the mad or sad out... until she can SAY how she feels, it holds power.  Saying it will release the power.  So that's what we're working on.  We spent some time this morning (the children and I) talking about how sneaky "mad" is... that it's just a cover-up for other feelings.  I ordered this poster (as well as the regular "feelings" one) last night, so we can have some nice visual aids while we work on getting those feeling out.  (I know it sounds goobery and fluffy and psycho-babblish, but these kids have BIG feelings that are really hurting their hearts and minds.) 

 
Short of being perfect (ah, if only), the therapist says we're doing really well - ahead of where he would expect by just a few weeks in (in regards to our therapeutic parenting and her reactions).  That's good, I guess.  He expects THIS stage will last about 2 more months.  I hope we don't run out of walls.

At church on Sunday, we didn't even make it as far as worship.  My dear daughter was grumping and kicking at her siblings and refusing to stay in her seat, and I had to take her and the baby to the car for the rest of the service, so Brian and the other children could stay in church.  While there, she was kicking seats, yanking on seatbelts, and taking off her shoes to whack them against the car windows.  (Lest you think she "won" by getting out of church, I made sure she didn't think she'd inconvenienced ME like she tried do... I drove to the Woods to pick up a mocha and sipped it while listening to worship music on the radio and playing Angry Birds on my phone.  Yes, I would have rather been in church, but because R.A.D. is so much about CONTROL, it was important that she think I was having a grand time.  So hopefully next week she'll sit nicely in church, just so mom doesn't get to have so much "fun" in the car.)

I'm trying to decide what's happening with the blog.  I am thankfully done with reviews now (whew!), but life is such a mess right now that I don't have much to say besides this ongoing battle.  It seems to be heading the direction of a "trauma mama" blog... though I would still love to use it to chronicle our family activities, I am so drained and messy right now, there's no energy left for it. 

I've always prided myself on my memory and internal organization... but it's GONE.  We almost missed dentist appointments for all 4 big kids this morning because I thought it was for 2 hours later.  Thankfully they called to say "are you on the way?" 

For the record 3/4 have cavities and the other one (Hallie) needs several teeth pulled (new teeth are coming in crooked behind the old teeth and there's massive overcrowding.)  At least she'll get her wish of finally losing a tooth... she'll have 2 pulled just a week before her 8th birthday. My newest children came with all kinds of dental work (from years of neglect), but the work was done so shoddily, they are developing cavities UNDER the other fillings and caps.  Gideon's spacer has come loose and needs to be re-glued.  Molly has several cavities.  Sam who has never had any dental issues suddenly has a cavity so big he's going to need a cap on a permanent molar.  (Could be because he's developed a severe LYING problem, fights un on brushing his teeth due to severe sensory issues, and lies about having done it when we try to let him do it himself.)

And lest I forget to mention it, he also has a STEALING problem that's become so bad he's not allowed out of my sight at friends' houses, and I have to check his pockets before we leave (we have a ziploc of legos and toy money we still need to return to one home), he steals food around the house (usually sweets, including the candy I got for my birthday), and I even caught him with a stolen tinker toy when we got in the car after their dentist appointment this morning.  (Seriously??  A single stinking tinker toy??  For what purpose??) I had to take it back in.  And please don't give me any parental plattitudes about having him take it back and confess and pay for it and all that - we've done all that, nothing's helping.  Before giving me advice that works with "normal children", keep in mind that this child was "pickled" in methamphetamines (and who knows what else) prior to birth, was neglected and possibly abused in his birth home, was seperated from his birthparents, spent a year in a neglectful foster home, was separated from that primary caregiver, has severe ADHD, mild austism, and who knows what else... and despite the fact that we have been consistent as well as both firm and loving with him since the moment he joined our family, I often feel completely helpless and hopeless that any lesson will EVER sink in.  We've tried everything we can think of (short of attachment therapy, and he's in line) and I'm weary to the bone, embarrassed, frustrated and humiliated.  He'll be ten next month... and he still writes on the walls.  Parts of his brain haven't progressed past 2 or 3 years old.

Frankly, I'm a mess right now.  The therapist told me yesterday that MOST of the moms he sees are on high doses of strong antidepressants.  (Oh, joy.)  One of my very best friends was over the other night, took one look at my pantry (full of processed, boxed foods right now, when I'm usually very careful and purposeful about what I feed my family, and tend toward "from-scratch") and asked "Are you planning to kill yourself?"  Ah, she knows my signs all too well.  While it's not THAT bad, it's bad.

Oh boy, do I NEED Orlando.  But that's still 9 months away.

I'll leave you with a recent conversation (that I posted on facebook but didn't want to neglect to post here, too... gotta cling to the humorous in all this mess):

Malaika: "I'm just going to RUN AWAY!"
Me: "That's fine, I'll just call the police and they'll bring you right back here."
Malaika: "You always SAY that, but you never LET me!"