I have been dreading writing this again. A few people have asked why I no longer write. The short answer I gave was, "Really? I have FOUR kids now; when do I have time?" Although there is some validity to that response, it really was not at the crux of the "why" I have not been writing. I am a pretty private person in that when I have some tough things in my life I really don't share these thoughts with anyone. So, it is with some doubt that I am going to write down the things I have been experiencing since the last posting BUT the reason I am sharing is for those people who may stumble across this blog in their own adoption journey. It is also for those friends and family who do follow this and think I have been responding to them in a different way than usual.
I have known that I was stuggling with a flurry of regret, guilt, anger, and depression since things settled down from returning home from Russia. In some ways it was like the "baby blues" in that I had longed for the boys for so long and completed so many obstacle courses in order to bring them home. Of course, reality bites at times. (This is a little of a shout out to an old-school movie with Winona Ryder, Ben Stiller, and Ethan Hawke). In our preparation we took some on-line trainings for how to deal with all of the difficulties of being an adoptive parent. Our social worker educated us as well on "what to expect". I found that it has not really been the adoption part which has been most difficult, but really it has been the expansion from our family of four to a family of six. I think that this process has impacted most my relationship with the girls. For Samantha, I think the adoption has mostly been a wonderful thing as my limited availabilty at times has forced her to become more independent and better with her time-management skills. She struggles at time with things that a pre-adolescent should struggle with, and also continues with her battle to overcome the challenges of living with diabetes. She is growing into a beautiful young lady. I have several "growing pains" stories I would love to share, but will spare her the embarrasment until she may be a little older and can appreciate the humor in it. Callie, on the other hand, is the child I feel has been most cheated by my increased parenting demands. She truly is my ray of sunshine as she barrels into my legs hugging me when I get home from work, smiles with her gap-toothed grin as her eyes twinkle, and seems to remain positive through most kindergarten challenges. She has transformed into a caring big sister for the boys and remains patient.... UNLESS they eat her Tic Tacs... then all bets are off. She is still my cuddle bug, even when I have several other little bugs vying for some time.
Regret. This is not something someone can live a healthy, well-adjusted life as it will suffocate you. I have figured out that I regret not being appreciative of our lives pre-adoption. We actually had a pretty nice life. Although we were never "rolling in the dough" we could pick up a pizza and not have to worry about paying the power bill. After the regret for our prior life follows guilt. The guilt creeps in through the cracks like the wispy black smoke of the Dementors (Harry Potter fans will get this analogy for those of you non-HP fans so sorry). Guilt is felt because my inner voice is saying, "Hey, lady, you just spent a ton of money and countless hours and asked your family to make huge sacrifices and you are thinking everything is not WONDERFUL???? What is wrong with you??"
Anger. This arises when I feel overwhelmed by it all and I revert back to some of the primary emotions humans encounter. I get angry that I feel that I have lost "me" and that everything is tied into the never-ending schedule of "stuff" that comes along with the family. I get angry that I cannot take time to do things that I want to do. I become angry with Chad that he still has time to do some of the things he enjoys when I am still standing on my feet doing my third job that does not pay me (laundry, cleaning ears, etc.)As a disclaimer, he does work 12 hour days six days a week, with a two hour commute and cooks dinner several nights a week. This anger is part of the vicious cycle that then leads back to guilt. I should not feel this way as I am a mother and as Callie asked yesterday yes, I would throw myself in front of a bullet for my children. Actually, the conversation went thus; Mom, I know no one would ever want to shoot me, but if someone did try, I know you would throw yourself in front of me right?
Depression. Anger forced inward. I also equate this with feeling like I am not good enough to accomplish all of things a "good" mom and wife does. Sometimes I need to get out of my own head for a while to recognize everyone feels a sense of inadequacy at times. I know I am my worst critic (with maybe Samantha being a close second).
In summarization, the fog dissipated in my thinking when I was sick a couple of weeks ago and had to remain in bed for several days. I went to my doctor and she asked how things were going. Wrong question when I was on "E" in my emotional tank and my guard was lowered since I felt so crappy. I told her that I was going to respond with the socially accepted answer but reality was I needed a break and it was too bad it took near pneumonia for me to get it. She told me something that allowed me to cut myself a break. And that is that we not only have increased our family but adopting the boys being so close in age it is very much like raising twins. Zing! An electric current ran through my body. Her statement allowed me to rationalize all of the different things I was feeling and that really it was all pretty normal. Chad also said something the other day that made sense too. Callie had her "BFF" spend the night for her first sleepover. I wanted the house to look nice so the BFF's mother would not judge us and allow her daughter to return as Callie really seems to like her friend. When I asked Chad to come into the living room and wait for the mother to come inside to meet her he stated, "She's going to know we aren't normal no matter what you do". Thus, what really is the "normal" family? What is really the "normal" adoptive family? What really is a "normal" woman whom is a mother?
I will leave things with this interaction I had with Pasha this morning. I was hustling to get the boys out to the car this morning and told them to head on out while I gathered a few things. Pasha stood in the doorway and said, "Mom, I am going to wait for you forever". I asked him why he was going to wait for me as he could head out to the car. He thought for a minute and said, "I wait... because you clean". He probably did not have the language to tell me that he was going to wait for me because he thought it was the nice thing to do. Apparently, he knows I love him because I clean. But please, call before you stop by so I can hurriedly hide things!
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