The bomb: Dad is out of jail and wants to visit the boys. Monday. Yes, in like 3 days. Yes, the worker just heard everything I told her and don't worry 2 workers will be at the visit. I told her that the kids need more time, this is a terrible time, can dad be introduced differently. The youngest doesn't know him. The oldest hasn't seen him in like 2 or 3 years and that was very brief. It doesn't matter, it's his right to see his kids. I told her it'd be detrimental to them. It doesn't matter. It's Monday at 4pm. The end.
Mind you, up until now, we haven't heard from family at all. And we were still pre-adopt, awaiting November for a termination of parental rights. OMG.
7 yo got sick, very sick. The doctor thought strep but wasn't sure, so "watch him over the weekend." He got sicker. He got more feverish. He got more sick. I take him to the doctor Monday and he says it is strep after all. Now Hubby is away for work for a few days. I'm by myself with a very feverish child and a hyper as hell 3 yo. Oh, but dad still wants to see them. Even sick.
They got back from the visit where 7 yo announced that they are going to visit dad every week and go to live with him!!! Worker says "yep" when I look at her quizzically. Doesn't discuss any of this with me at all. Says "we have a house visit Friday, we can discuss it then." I throw daggers.
7 yo is sick. I'm home with him Monday and Tuesday. Hubby gets home Wednesday. This kid fights with us all the time, he started throwing furniture on Wednesday (his fever finally broke). Night terrors every night, they're worse than ever. He's having meltdowns over every little thing, he's incredibly destructive. He's getting his brother in on the behavior. We request a meeting after the house visit with the worker to discuss long term plans and the fact that we've gotten no support from her at all up to this point.
Friday comes. 7 yo has a meltdown over spilled milk. I'm not lying. He's hitting and kicking me. He's trying to break things. He calms down in time for the worker who comes in bearing gifts for them. Without asking us. I'm livid now, this kid needs a time out, not a gift. We start talking about everything and telling the worker about 7 yo's behavior. We already told him we'd discuss it in front of him. He knows he can tell her about it if he wants. He's embarrassed and he knows he shouldn't act that way. I know he can't really help it, but at the same time needs a lot more than what he's getting and we need a lot more than what we are getting.
As we're explaining everything to the worker, one of the gifts he received was slime. We told him not to open it. Meltdown. He starts trying to break something, then he throws the bag and gift wrap at me. The worker tries talking to him all nice "that's not nice, blah, blah." I'm like, go kid, if you're going to show her, do it. He does for a long time. He starts hitting me, and kicking me. He tries to run away in the garage and we go after him. I'm ready to call the police. Based on everything I learned in social work school and in foster care classes, it's time to call the police. It's now almost an hour of him fighting, screaming, crying, melting down. The worker says not the police, I've been trying to get in touch with my supervisor to call mobile crisis. WTF. I have that number on speed dial and they're all social work students like you. But alas, I call. They don't come for another hour. We try everything to calm him down, hold him down. There's 3 adults holding one 7 yo at one point because he was trying to use his head to butt me. No, he was using his head. 3 yo thinks this is all a game. After 2 hours, I honestly have no idea what's going on, I think he's trying to break something. I sit down on the floor and cry. He comes up to me, sits next to me and hugs me. CYCLE OF ABUSE. This kid literally knows the cycle of abuse at 7 yo. After 2 hours, another worker and mobile crisis are there. I'm in tears. They're packing bags, finding respite for the boys. The worker is ready to leave and says "We expect you to pick up the boys by 2pm Sunday." By now, we also put in our 2 weeks notice via email. We looked at her. Hubby said "are you serious? you saw this, this has been our lives for the past 2 weeks." I said "he needs more care than we can provide. I wanted to call the police and you wouldn't let me. We can't take them back and you know that." I felt like shit. We tried so hard. I hated leaving the boys like that. HATED it. There was no termination. Yet more adults in their lives leaving them. Proving to them adults suck.
I still feel like shit for saying that, but we had to do it. We know we had to, we had no choice. I don't know if CPS would have been more supportive if we had kept the boys. I doubt that. Things may have gotten better for a short time, but with dad in the picture there was no doubt in my mind we would've stayed in this abusive cycle. We know they went to treatment foster care in another county and are still there (thanks to COVID). Both parents have been arrested again (and again) and who knows what will happen there.
What I do know is that without dad in the picture, we could've gotten the support 7 yo needed. We could've remained foster and pre-adopt parents to the boys. We would possibly have adopted them by now. It wasn't meant to be and I'm okay with that, but the system messed up. The system truly did those boys a huge disservice. The worker, whether she's overworked or not, did not provide us with adequate support. The supervisor and worker refused to meet with us after the boys were out of placement. It took them over a month to pick up the rest of the boys' belongings. The system is cracked and those boys fell down a huge crack. They needed treatment foster care before being placed with us. The signs were always there, but the workers never listened to the foster parents. The fact that they push bio-parents without so much as making them jump through any hoop to see their child is ridiculous (seriously, you can't tell me that they couldn't have started with letters, phone calls, and maybe dad getting more stable than just being out of jail for 2 weeks??!?!). It was irresponsible of the worker to not listen to the foster parents. I'm not sure she believed us that it was so bad until she saw it with her own eyes, and even then I'm not sure she thought this was everyday. It's hard for me knowing how many kids are in the system and how so many are probably falling through the cracks.
I miss the boys. A lot. I think about them every day. I will always hold them in my heart, care for them, and love them. I hope and pray they are in the right place and can be stable and successful kids and adults.
About Me
- Robyn
- Social Worker, Writer, Volunteer, Reader, Friend, Daughter, Sister, Woman, Passionate, Compassionate, Social, Outgoing, Lives life, Yogini, Liberal, Music lover... all these things can describe me and more... I can either be put in a box or just be me. I am Robyn. Welcome to my hood :)
Saturday, August 1, 2020
Fostering Experience Part 5 nearing the end
Mind you. Hubby and I are still in this for the long run. We will both work our asses off to adopt these kids and give them stability. It's still fall, and we have plane tickets for Christmas, we have plans for the spring and summer (okay, most of those are in my head), but we're planning. We are working to make sure these boys have stability and success in life. We are fitting them and fitting with them. Our marriage becomes stronger during this, well, we communicate a lot anyway...
We've had the boys at this point for 6 weeks. I've brushed over a lot of things, but you don't need the day to day, you just need an overview. I've given you a few red flags that are beyond the normal child range. At this point, we also figured out that the TV is a trigger. The 7 yo cannot watch TV (really at all) for long periods of time or before bed, or there is a total and utter meltdown. So we've developed a house rule that only the adults know that no TV during the week or before bed. We just keep them busy up until bed. We truly cannot use the TV as a babysitter. I am including destructive behavior in this meltdown, hitting, kicking, trying to break furniture, pushing. I'm usually the target.
We go to Longwood Gardens one evening to see their fountain light show. It was actually a good night overall. The kids listened. They behaved, it felt good. Our troubles were light. They enjoyed the lights and the gardens (well, the treehouses). It was an experience.
Then at 1030pm hubby came to get me because 7 yo was in the bathroom screaming. This has happened before, the day before school started, he woke up starting at himself in the mirror. But tonight he was screaming bloody murder. We had no idea what was going on. We tried to talk to him. We tried to move him, we tried everything. I called the CPS worker on call who was less than useless. Finally, he screamed himself out and fell asleep on the couch. It was weird and traumatic. He didn't remember it the next day. This continues for a week. I already have left numerous messages for the CPS worker to call me. I'm looking into extra therapy for him and psychiatric care. He has night terrors, it's very clear. I got to the point where I could deal with them (for whatever reason, he wouldn't respond to hubby) and calm him down fairly quickly. It was frightening for us. Beyond frightening. And this is not anything one is prepared for, but luckily I'm a trained social worker, and research and have friends and figure it out. WITH NO HELP from the worker. NONE. She is completely MIA. Mind you, I called the on-call person at like 1am on a weekend. I never heard from our worker after that. Nothing. We were totally at a loss. But we were still in it for the long haul. We had an action plan.
After more than a week of nothing, it's now a Thursday... I have as many appointments scheduled as I can without permission from CPS worker (which isn't many). Luckily, I do have pull. At this phone call where I've been trying to get in touch with the worker for almost two weeks. She drops a bomb.
We've had the boys at this point for 6 weeks. I've brushed over a lot of things, but you don't need the day to day, you just need an overview. I've given you a few red flags that are beyond the normal child range. At this point, we also figured out that the TV is a trigger. The 7 yo cannot watch TV (really at all) for long periods of time or before bed, or there is a total and utter meltdown. So we've developed a house rule that only the adults know that no TV during the week or before bed. We just keep them busy up until bed. We truly cannot use the TV as a babysitter. I am including destructive behavior in this meltdown, hitting, kicking, trying to break furniture, pushing. I'm usually the target.
We go to Longwood Gardens one evening to see their fountain light show. It was actually a good night overall. The kids listened. They behaved, it felt good. Our troubles were light. They enjoyed the lights and the gardens (well, the treehouses). It was an experience.
Then at 1030pm hubby came to get me because 7 yo was in the bathroom screaming. This has happened before, the day before school started, he woke up starting at himself in the mirror. But tonight he was screaming bloody murder. We had no idea what was going on. We tried to talk to him. We tried to move him, we tried everything. I called the CPS worker on call who was less than useless. Finally, he screamed himself out and fell asleep on the couch. It was weird and traumatic. He didn't remember it the next day. This continues for a week. I already have left numerous messages for the CPS worker to call me. I'm looking into extra therapy for him and psychiatric care. He has night terrors, it's very clear. I got to the point where I could deal with them (for whatever reason, he wouldn't respond to hubby) and calm him down fairly quickly. It was frightening for us. Beyond frightening. And this is not anything one is prepared for, but luckily I'm a trained social worker, and research and have friends and figure it out. WITH NO HELP from the worker. NONE. She is completely MIA. Mind you, I called the on-call person at like 1am on a weekend. I never heard from our worker after that. Nothing. We were totally at a loss. But we were still in it for the long haul. We had an action plan.
After more than a week of nothing, it's now a Thursday... I have as many appointments scheduled as I can without permission from CPS worker (which isn't many). Luckily, I do have pull. At this phone call where I've been trying to get in touch with the worker for almost two weeks. She drops a bomb.
Fostering Experience Part 4
Red flag number 2, a pretty big one, is that neither of them listen. At all. The 3 yo would initially listen, but that lasted about a week. And he was unpunishable. We tried every possible method there is with no results. The kid is 3. Sigh.
One day, I was so over the kids not listening that I sat on the couch while hubby was cooking, and told both boys to sit and not move until dinner was ready. It was about 10 minutes. We didn't move. I was so over it. I hit my limit. I'm going to go back to my regret- not taking off work. We truly needed to bond more as a family, I needed more downtime, and hubby needed it as well. Do I think it would've changed the outcome? Absolutely not, but I do think I would have been more sane.
The 7 yo also wouldn't listen. They're both pushing limits on how far they can go with us. I learned through this experience that I give in too easily, but sometimes I would just rather deal with it than fight. I was so tired of fighting. I took the kid to Walgreens and he saw a fancy lollipop he wanted. Normal kid "I want" fight, I didn't back down on this one. This kid ran away. First, he ran behind the ATM and then outside, towards the parking lot. He luckily stops on the sidewalk (he's smart and again, manipulative). We have a conversation and eventually he gets in the car with me, but this is a several a-day fight. It's extreme and exhausting, but I still love being a parent. I love these kids with my whole being.
We go to an orchard that has a corn maze. He runs away. The kid runs away in a maze. Understandable excitement, except there's just so many of these moments. And they're scary.
I take the kids with a friend and her kids to a big truck event. They are good - until lunch. I'm getting the food. My friend is minding the kids. He starts climbing up the greenhouse. He doesn't listen to her or me. I have a conversation with him in the bathroom after he wet himself (which actually may have inadvertently calmed him down more than my conversation). The rest of the afternoon actually went ok.
So far, I'm finding that anytime he wants anything that triggers him beyond what most kids would act. It becomes a serious fight and destructive behavior that ends up with him not listening and sometimes involving his brother in semi-destructive behavior.
One day, I was so over the kids not listening that I sat on the couch while hubby was cooking, and told both boys to sit and not move until dinner was ready. It was about 10 minutes. We didn't move. I was so over it. I hit my limit. I'm going to go back to my regret- not taking off work. We truly needed to bond more as a family, I needed more downtime, and hubby needed it as well. Do I think it would've changed the outcome? Absolutely not, but I do think I would have been more sane.
He goes to therapy once a week. The therapist and I discuss diagnoses. We're both pretty sure the kid may have ODD and RAD. This could be interesting. If you're not in the child, therapeutic field, do an internet search.
Also, supposedly we're still in the "honeymoon" period according to studies. I would very much disagree and say that for us it lasted 2 weeks tops.
Fostering Experience Part 3
The 3 yo is a rambunctious 3 yo. A little beyond the normal 3 yo, but this kid hasn't had structure most of his life. He's a ball full of energy. A mess- my parents nicknamed him Pig Pen cuz he comes back from day care so dirty head to toe. And he falls. A lot. But he's darn cute and is funny and so lovable.
The 7 yo is a caring, compassionate young one who says the sweetest things. He's also manipulative, and so very angry. This anger comes out within week 2.
Homework- oh, first of all, stop giving little kids homework. There is no study that says it's beneficial, but I digress. Homework is always a fight. We had a routine, but it didn't matter, it was still a fight. Tears, screaming, whimpering, pouting. It's the worst part of the day for me. And for him. But we're managing until there's a back to school night where parents meet the teachers and kids get to watch a movie. He's excited. Let's get your homework done first. Fight, fight, fight. I threaten no back to school night. He runs away, literally, starts to run out the door. I stop him and try to have a reasonable conversation about how he just needs to do his homework. He pushes me. Hard. In front of my mom who about mama-beared his ass. But didn't. Reminder, I'm still on crutches. This fight finally resolves, I honestly don't know how. I think he scared himself to be honest. This was also when my mom said "you have to let them see you cry." Which I'll never forget.
Somehow he ends up going to back to school night with me. He doesn't deserve it, but it's also not worth the fight. I also let him ride home with the neighbors. I honestly needed the like 5 minute break from this kid. This was the first huge red flag for us.
Bedtime was also very difficult, especially for him. I think he was often left alone at night. He had me lie with him until he fell asleep. It was almost a trauma trigger for him nightly. This kid legit fought falling asleep. It was hard and broke my heart every night to read to him and put him to bed only to have him crying scared that he needs me. The 3 yo was difficult to put to bed, but really only cuz the kid had so much damn energy. One night I was putting them both to bed, by myself and the kid just wouldn't go to bed, he played on the floor while I was reading books and passed out there.
So, red flags, but my heart so full and I want to take away their pain so badly that I would do anything for them.
The 7 yo is a caring, compassionate young one who says the sweetest things. He's also manipulative, and so very angry. This anger comes out within week 2.
Homework- oh, first of all, stop giving little kids homework. There is no study that says it's beneficial, but I digress. Homework is always a fight. We had a routine, but it didn't matter, it was still a fight. Tears, screaming, whimpering, pouting. It's the worst part of the day for me. And for him. But we're managing until there's a back to school night where parents meet the teachers and kids get to watch a movie. He's excited. Let's get your homework done first. Fight, fight, fight. I threaten no back to school night. He runs away, literally, starts to run out the door. I stop him and try to have a reasonable conversation about how he just needs to do his homework. He pushes me. Hard. In front of my mom who about mama-beared his ass. But didn't. Reminder, I'm still on crutches. This fight finally resolves, I honestly don't know how. I think he scared himself to be honest. This was also when my mom said "you have to let them see you cry." Which I'll never forget.
Somehow he ends up going to back to school night with me. He doesn't deserve it, but it's also not worth the fight. I also let him ride home with the neighbors. I honestly needed the like 5 minute break from this kid. This was the first huge red flag for us.
Bedtime was also very difficult, especially for him. I think he was often left alone at night. He had me lie with him until he fell asleep. It was almost a trauma trigger for him nightly. This kid legit fought falling asleep. It was hard and broke my heart every night to read to him and put him to bed only to have him crying scared that he needs me. The 3 yo was difficult to put to bed, but really only cuz the kid had so much damn energy. One night I was putting them both to bed, by myself and the kid just wouldn't go to bed, he played on the floor while I was reading books and passed out there.
So, red flags, but my heart so full and I want to take away their pain so badly that I would do anything for them.
Fostering Experience Part 2
September 7th
Exciting day! The foster family has already brought some things for the boys' room. They will bring the rest, the beds and the boys. Wow! I bought them each a plate/bowl set with their favorite characters as their welcome gift. We got snacks, and are as ready as we can be.
Move in was pretty quick overall, then we ate lunch and decided to go to the playground and get ice cream afterwards. We played and met some friends and then before we were ready to leave I slipped off the playground and broke my foot. Yep. You read that right. I broke my foot. I called a friend to pick me up to bring me to the ER. Hubby took the boys to get ice cream. And you got it... I spent most of the evening in the ER with my friend who I owe forever.
When I got home the boys were still awake, they wanted to make sure I was okay. I was in a soft cast until Monday. Which I already had off because it was my birthday. Sigh. Yeah. A friend came over and brought dinner, cake and cleaned up the house a bit. Heart full. So full.
I ended up in a walking boot for about 7 or 8 weeks. I was on crutches/scooter for a few weeks as well. It was quite interesting. This goes back to my regret: I did not take off work. I was suddenly raising a 3 & 6 yo with a broken foot and a husband who travels for work (oh, did I forget to mention that?)- though he was there the majority of the time.
My parents decided to come out, thank them forever, to spend a couple weeks with us and the boys. Things overall were going well, we started a routine. We had a daycare for both of them (daycare for the 3 yo and a before/aftercare for the 6 yo). The neighborhood kids really were taking in the boys and the boys enjoyed being part of the neighborhood. It was fall, good weather and outdoor time.
6 yo had a birthday and turned 7, birthday party with neighborhood families and his new grandparents. It was a big day. Things were moving along. They were fitting, we were trying to figure out their fit and our fit as parents. 7 yo was doing well at school. 3 yo was too. Both making new friends and like their teachers. It's the epitome of the honeymoon period.
Exciting day! The foster family has already brought some things for the boys' room. They will bring the rest, the beds and the boys. Wow! I bought them each a plate/bowl set with their favorite characters as their welcome gift. We got snacks, and are as ready as we can be.
Move in was pretty quick overall, then we ate lunch and decided to go to the playground and get ice cream afterwards. We played and met some friends and then before we were ready to leave I slipped off the playground and broke my foot. Yep. You read that right. I broke my foot. I called a friend to pick me up to bring me to the ER. Hubby took the boys to get ice cream. And you got it... I spent most of the evening in the ER with my friend who I owe forever.
When I got home the boys were still awake, they wanted to make sure I was okay. I was in a soft cast until Monday. Which I already had off because it was my birthday. Sigh. Yeah. A friend came over and brought dinner, cake and cleaned up the house a bit. Heart full. So full.
I ended up in a walking boot for about 7 or 8 weeks. I was on crutches/scooter for a few weeks as well. It was quite interesting. This goes back to my regret: I did not take off work. I was suddenly raising a 3 & 6 yo with a broken foot and a husband who travels for work (oh, did I forget to mention that?)- though he was there the majority of the time.
My parents decided to come out, thank them forever, to spend a couple weeks with us and the boys. Things overall were going well, we started a routine. We had a daycare for both of them (daycare for the 3 yo and a before/aftercare for the 6 yo). The neighborhood kids really were taking in the boys and the boys enjoyed being part of the neighborhood. It was fall, good weather and outdoor time.
6 yo had a birthday and turned 7, birthday party with neighborhood families and his new grandparents. It was a big day. Things were moving along. They were fitting, we were trying to figure out their fit and our fit as parents. 7 yo was doing well at school. 3 yo was too. Both making new friends and like their teachers. It's the epitome of the honeymoon period.
Fostering Experience Part 1
It's taken me a while- nearly a year to write about our foster experience. There's been a lot of grief and anger. Mostly anger. I want to start from the beginning. I'm not going to back date. I'm going to write in retrospect. I was too angry to write after the experience. I was too overwhelmed to write during the experience. What I can tell you about the experience is I have ZERO regrets fostering. I have few regrets on how we parented. I have many regrets for not telling my story sooner.
I learned a lot. I learned about parenting. I learned about patience. I learned more about my husband and my marriage. I learned. I experienced and I am a better person for it. I just hope and pray the two boys that we fostered also gained something from the experience.
One thing I really, really regret is that I did not take time off work. It was the beginning of the school year which is a busy time for me. I had a new boss. It was not a good time, but here's the thing about work- it's just work. I was raising two little boys who needed me and I needed my sanity. My biggest regret.
We met the boys, ages 3 & 6 at their current foster home end of August 2019. They lived there throughout the summer and she was pregnant and couldn't handle a bio toddler, and the two boys and a new baby. Very understandable. "Timing" DSS said. This was also their third home since November (it's always a "timing" issue per DSS; the first home, was just a quiet home and the boys are boys, then someone got sick, the second home was always supposed to be temporary... the third home... well, she turned out to be pregnant). This saying of "timing" is quite important, because I truly feel that DSS wasn't honest with us. I'm not sure how honest the current foster parents were either, but I also think they were trying their best to create a picture for us. We met the kids, went to the park and had ice cream. We learned the oldest can be what you expect from a foster kid. The current foster family felt they would go to adopt. DSS said it was likely to go pre-adopt. I was ready to go. Hubby was not. Hubby felt there was a lot missing. I'm more optimistic on this, he's more real. He went with me.
Move in happened Sept. 7th.
Background on parents: Dad in jail for DV and Mom in jail for drugs, theft. Dad hasn't had contact with kids in years (been in jail before youngest born). Mom has been in and out of jail most of her adult life. Kids were with family before going into foster care, but taken out of care due to child abuse.
I learned a lot. I learned about parenting. I learned about patience. I learned more about my husband and my marriage. I learned. I experienced and I am a better person for it. I just hope and pray the two boys that we fostered also gained something from the experience.
One thing I really, really regret is that I did not take time off work. It was the beginning of the school year which is a busy time for me. I had a new boss. It was not a good time, but here's the thing about work- it's just work. I was raising two little boys who needed me and I needed my sanity. My biggest regret.
We met the boys, ages 3 & 6 at their current foster home end of August 2019. They lived there throughout the summer and she was pregnant and couldn't handle a bio toddler, and the two boys and a new baby. Very understandable. "Timing" DSS said. This was also their third home since November (it's always a "timing" issue per DSS; the first home, was just a quiet home and the boys are boys, then someone got sick, the second home was always supposed to be temporary... the third home... well, she turned out to be pregnant). This saying of "timing" is quite important, because I truly feel that DSS wasn't honest with us. I'm not sure how honest the current foster parents were either, but I also think they were trying their best to create a picture for us. We met the kids, went to the park and had ice cream. We learned the oldest can be what you expect from a foster kid. The current foster family felt they would go to adopt. DSS said it was likely to go pre-adopt. I was ready to go. Hubby was not. Hubby felt there was a lot missing. I'm more optimistic on this, he's more real. He went with me.
Move in happened Sept. 7th.
Background on parents: Dad in jail for DV and Mom in jail for drugs, theft. Dad hasn't had contact with kids in years (been in jail before youngest born). Mom has been in and out of jail most of her adult life. Kids were with family before going into foster care, but taken out of care due to child abuse.
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
anniversaries
Last month was the anniversary of the start of IVF treatment, tomorrow is the anniversary of egg retrieval. As anniversaries come up, there's a lot to be thankful for and a lot to think about. We have had an amazing support network. I have an even more amazing husband.
Much of the time I'm okay and living life. Occasionally I get the sting, the stab. It's pretty rare. One stab was someone posting about their miracle children and how they were infertile. They were not infertile. The children may have been miracles... aren't all? perhaps, but that's another day. But the woman was not infertile, she had a poor prognosis and then got pregnant. Infertility is the act of not being able to conceive. If you conceived, especially without medical intervention, you are not infertile. I'm not negating the fact that this woman may have been told she's infertile, but once you conceive, you are not infertile. It's painful to those who are to hear "oh I was infertile, but I had a kid, you can too." No, you were told you were infertile. It's great that you had a kid, but you are not infertile. Maybe a new word or phrase should be inappropriate prognosis. "I had an inappropriate prognosis that I was infertile- turns out I'm not!" Yes, that may be a long hashtag, but it's the truth and doesn't sting for those of us who are legit infertile and consistently being told to hope for that miracle. Yes, I can hope. I can hope with all my might. But holding onto that hope completely is painful and stupid. And people telling me to hold on makes it painful and them look stupid. I had to grieve. I had to release that hope to allow me to move forward. Yes, I may still have hope. I may still look at my ovulation weeks with some sort of optimism. But to be honest, it's like my pinky toenail. It's just there in the back of my head because yes, I'm still within childbearing years and there's a slight, very minimal, unbelievably minimal chance conception could happen. And if that does, I will change my script to "a miracle happened." Not #infertility. It's a matter of education. It's a matter of recognizing those who truly grieve. I'm not saying these things for accolades or sympathy, just to let you know that it's not appropriate and it hurts someone else. And I don't think that's what you want to do.
I do still get triggered. That probably won't stop, but I just don't attach to the trigger, I move along and grieve as I need to. If I hear that you're pregnant, I am so, so, so happy for you. Trust me. I may be sad for myself, but in no way does that have anything to do with you (there is one person out there who caused me a lot of pain this past year and boy does it have everything to do with her, but I digress). And I'm also likely not sad at all. I truly am happy and hope that I can be a part of your family.
So as I hit the year mark, sure I was sad. Sad that we don't have an infant, sad that things are not what I had hoped for, but you know what... I survived. I carried on. I gained different perspective. Did I get stronger? I don't know. It's not about that. I carried on. We carried on.
Coming up on the anniversary of the terrible, awful day that was egg retrieval... it's so painful to think about. Egg retrieval is so hard on so many levels, especially when you don't get what you want. The excitement of the following day "you have a fertilized egg!" and then the dread of the next day "it hasn't multiplied." The down and up and down... the further down. Driving home the day of the egg retrieval I told my husband I didn't want to go through this again. And I really truly meant it. I know what I can take and what I can't. Do I have regrets? Some, very minimal. What if we tried again? What if I did something different? What if the next egg was viable? Yes, of course there's the what ifs. There's also the high risk of pregnancy. There's also the high risk the child would have severe disabilities. There's so much anxiety throughout the entire process. And I knew that I would never release that anxiety, that stress until I knew everything was perfect. And that would be a LONG year. The much more likely what if is, what if we went through it again and again without any result? And I knew I couldn't handle that again.
I also knew there are a lot of kids out there who need forever families. There's a part of me that always wanted to adopt, to foster, to open my heart to children in this way. So that's the path we chose. And after 10 long months. After classes, after more paperwork than I could ever imagine, after genograms and ecomaps, after home inspections, fire escape plans, baby proofing, interviews, and so much more and especially waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting... we finally got news of our official license to adopt today. I received the email this morning. I find it a bit ironic that it's been 365 days since my egg retrieval. It's such a good book end of the infertility journey and the start of the adoption journey. It's the ability to release tears of joy and excitement and expectation. It's releasing all the tension and stress of the past year (+). It's a new journey. Yes, we do have more hoops, more classes, more waiting. But there's a light down that tunnel, with a kid at the end.
Much of the time I'm okay and living life. Occasionally I get the sting, the stab. It's pretty rare. One stab was someone posting about their miracle children and how they were infertile. They were not infertile. The children may have been miracles... aren't all? perhaps, but that's another day. But the woman was not infertile, she had a poor prognosis and then got pregnant. Infertility is the act of not being able to conceive. If you conceived, especially without medical intervention, you are not infertile. I'm not negating the fact that this woman may have been told she's infertile, but once you conceive, you are not infertile. It's painful to those who are to hear "oh I was infertile, but I had a kid, you can too." No, you were told you were infertile. It's great that you had a kid, but you are not infertile. Maybe a new word or phrase should be inappropriate prognosis. "I had an inappropriate prognosis that I was infertile- turns out I'm not!" Yes, that may be a long hashtag, but it's the truth and doesn't sting for those of us who are legit infertile and consistently being told to hope for that miracle. Yes, I can hope. I can hope with all my might. But holding onto that hope completely is painful and stupid. And people telling me to hold on makes it painful and them look stupid. I had to grieve. I had to release that hope to allow me to move forward. Yes, I may still have hope. I may still look at my ovulation weeks with some sort of optimism. But to be honest, it's like my pinky toenail. It's just there in the back of my head because yes, I'm still within childbearing years and there's a slight, very minimal, unbelievably minimal chance conception could happen. And if that does, I will change my script to "a miracle happened." Not #infertility. It's a matter of education. It's a matter of recognizing those who truly grieve. I'm not saying these things for accolades or sympathy, just to let you know that it's not appropriate and it hurts someone else. And I don't think that's what you want to do.
I do still get triggered. That probably won't stop, but I just don't attach to the trigger, I move along and grieve as I need to. If I hear that you're pregnant, I am so, so, so happy for you. Trust me. I may be sad for myself, but in no way does that have anything to do with you (there is one person out there who caused me a lot of pain this past year and boy does it have everything to do with her, but I digress). And I'm also likely not sad at all. I truly am happy and hope that I can be a part of your family.
So as I hit the year mark, sure I was sad. Sad that we don't have an infant, sad that things are not what I had hoped for, but you know what... I survived. I carried on. I gained different perspective. Did I get stronger? I don't know. It's not about that. I carried on. We carried on.
Coming up on the anniversary of the terrible, awful day that was egg retrieval... it's so painful to think about. Egg retrieval is so hard on so many levels, especially when you don't get what you want. The excitement of the following day "you have a fertilized egg!" and then the dread of the next day "it hasn't multiplied." The down and up and down... the further down. Driving home the day of the egg retrieval I told my husband I didn't want to go through this again. And I really truly meant it. I know what I can take and what I can't. Do I have regrets? Some, very minimal. What if we tried again? What if I did something different? What if the next egg was viable? Yes, of course there's the what ifs. There's also the high risk of pregnancy. There's also the high risk the child would have severe disabilities. There's so much anxiety throughout the entire process. And I knew that I would never release that anxiety, that stress until I knew everything was perfect. And that would be a LONG year. The much more likely what if is, what if we went through it again and again without any result? And I knew I couldn't handle that again.
I also knew there are a lot of kids out there who need forever families. There's a part of me that always wanted to adopt, to foster, to open my heart to children in this way. So that's the path we chose. And after 10 long months. After classes, after more paperwork than I could ever imagine, after genograms and ecomaps, after home inspections, fire escape plans, baby proofing, interviews, and so much more and especially waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting... we finally got news of our official license to adopt today. I received the email this morning. I find it a bit ironic that it's been 365 days since my egg retrieval. It's such a good book end of the infertility journey and the start of the adoption journey. It's the ability to release tears of joy and excitement and expectation. It's releasing all the tension and stress of the past year (+). It's a new journey. Yes, we do have more hoops, more classes, more waiting. But there's a light down that tunnel, with a kid at the end.
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