When we first brought our kids home, they had us on the run. We gave 110%, feel like we were giving it at our all, and doing a slew of the wrong things in trying to parent our children. At the end of the night, they'd finally be asleep, and we'd tiptoe into our bedrooms and lie in the bed. We wouldn't turn on the TV, afraid we'd wake them. We wouldn't flush the potty, afraid the noise would startle them back to consciousness. We'd lie very still and whisper.
I stayed home with the boys and I'd be worn out; Ray would whisper to me how far we'd come in 6 weeks, or 3 months, or 6 months' time. And yes, I could see progress. So we kept going. We kept persevering.
This past year, a young man who had been living with us for a year and a half, moved out. It was a bit unexpected, though we can see now that for his sake, it was the best plan. Still, the change, and the sudden absence of someone in their lives, caused my little guys to regress a bit. And we found ourselves ready for counseling.
We have been in counseling for about 6 months now, and the change is nothing short of remarkable. 6 months time of doing things the right way -- or at least far closer to the right way -- has made such a difference that I sorely regret not having started years ago.
All this is to say that I am now a strong proponent of adoptive families getting help. That being said: in looking at my own life I feel there were some strong signals that I overlooked that probably should have told me to get some help. So from a veteran in the adopted parenting field, here are some signs in which you might need to pay attention.
1. You feel angry most of the time.
I am not super-proud of this, but this is how I felt and I think it should have let us know to get help. I felt angry that my kids weren't like other kids. I felt angry that our life always felt hard. I felt angry that I couldn't go and do the things other families got to do. I felt angry that our kids always ruined a good day. I felt angry they destroyed things around our home. I felt angry that they didn't make sense to me because their fits were so illogical.
People that were around me, I'm sure, could tell my unhappiness. I always put on a smile, but I didn't talk to others about being PROUD of my kids. I looked at babysitters and said, "he didn't cause you any problems, did he?" And I said it in a joking way, so they didn't think I had some hard heart, but I certainly didn't assume the best in my kids because I couldn't see the best in them.
2. You don't feel like you have any good days as a family.
I lamented to my husband often about how the boys tag-teamed in a way that made every day bad. One day All-Star was hard on me, and the next day it was Sugar Monkey. Lots of time it was both of them. But holidays, vacations, school breaks -- those were the worst. And I just *wanted* for our family to have these happy spells the way other families did, but there was a rain cloud parked over our family that never left.
3. You don't feel hopeful about your kids' future.
I was seriously worried about both my kids becoming adults. Sugar Monkey broke things when he got mad, so I worried he would one day be reckless with cars, with girlfriends, with all kinds of things that matter. All-Star worries until it makes him sick, and I would think all the time, 'he's never going to be a happy person.'
4. I didn't want their affection.
I did. That's not exactly the truth. But I didn't want it the way they did it. Sugar Monkey would rail against the world, beat his head on the wall, and then nary 5 minutes later give me hugs. But I was still upset! I didn't want his hugs after we'd had 20 minutes of bizarre tantrums. All-Star liked to kiss my hands, which for whatever reason, gave me the creeps. I would love real hugs or real kisses, but him grabbing my hand as I walked past him to kiss my fingers, made my skin crawl and I couldn't get over that feeling.
I could probably go on, sharing all kinds of things that are utterly embarrassing and shameful. But the truth is that if you're an adoptive mom, or a fostering mom, *hopefully* you'll have either a little bit of mercy for me, or you are in this exact same spot.
I stayed home with the boys and I'd be worn out; Ray would whisper to me how far we'd come in 6 weeks, or 3 months, or 6 months' time. And yes, I could see progress. So we kept going. We kept persevering.This past year, a young man who had been living with us for a year and a half, moved out. It was a bit unexpected, though we can see now that for his sake, it was the best plan. Still, the change, and the sudden absence of someone in their lives, caused my little guys to regress a bit. And we found ourselves ready for counseling.
We have been in counseling for about 6 months now, and the change is nothing short of remarkable. 6 months time of doing things the right way -- or at least far closer to the right way -- has made such a difference that I sorely regret not having started years ago.
All this is to say that I am now a strong proponent of adoptive families getting help. That being said: in looking at my own life I feel there were some strong signals that I overlooked that probably should have told me to get some help. So from a veteran in the adopted parenting field, here are some signs in which you might need to pay attention.
1. You feel angry most of the time.
I am not super-proud of this, but this is how I felt and I think it should have let us know to get help. I felt angry that my kids weren't like other kids. I felt angry that our life always felt hard. I felt angry that I couldn't go and do the things other families got to do. I felt angry that our kids always ruined a good day. I felt angry they destroyed things around our home. I felt angry that they didn't make sense to me because their fits were so illogical.
People that were around me, I'm sure, could tell my unhappiness. I always put on a smile, but I didn't talk to others about being PROUD of my kids. I looked at babysitters and said, "he didn't cause you any problems, did he?" And I said it in a joking way, so they didn't think I had some hard heart, but I certainly didn't assume the best in my kids because I couldn't see the best in them.
2. You don't feel like you have any good days as a family.
I lamented to my husband often about how the boys tag-teamed in a way that made every day bad. One day All-Star was hard on me, and the next day it was Sugar Monkey. Lots of time it was both of them. But holidays, vacations, school breaks -- those were the worst. And I just *wanted* for our family to have these happy spells the way other families did, but there was a rain cloud parked over our family that never left.
3. You don't feel hopeful about your kids' future.
I was seriously worried about both my kids becoming adults. Sugar Monkey broke things when he got mad, so I worried he would one day be reckless with cars, with girlfriends, with all kinds of things that matter. All-Star worries until it makes him sick, and I would think all the time, 'he's never going to be a happy person.'
4. I didn't want their affection.
I did. That's not exactly the truth. But I didn't want it the way they did it. Sugar Monkey would rail against the world, beat his head on the wall, and then nary 5 minutes later give me hugs. But I was still upset! I didn't want his hugs after we'd had 20 minutes of bizarre tantrums. All-Star liked to kiss my hands, which for whatever reason, gave me the creeps. I would love real hugs or real kisses, but him grabbing my hand as I walked past him to kiss my fingers, made my skin crawl and I couldn't get over that feeling.
I could probably go on, sharing all kinds of things that are utterly embarrassing and shameful. But the truth is that if you're an adoptive mom, or a fostering mom, *hopefully* you'll have either a little bit of mercy for me, or you are in this exact same spot.
And I share this to say that there is HOPE.
That the God of the universe did not hand you a child
that is beyond His ability to repair and redeem.
And it is possible that we happen to have one of the best counselors around because he is pretty awesome, but it may very well be that if you reach out, you will find help that becomes the puzzle piece you've been missing all this time.
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