The idea was preposterous. A baby. How would that happen? Branch was supposed to be my one and only chance to parent an infant. That didn’t work out. Though he should have come to me early on, it was two … Continue reading
This time last year, in a moment of reflection, the word that landed in my heart for 2014 was fulfillment. Today 2014 draws to a close, I’m pausing to reflect. It has indeed been a year of fulfillment.
And the child grew and became strong in spirit….(Luke 1:80) I often prayed over the children who would come. That seemed to be the key – being strong in spirit. I knew then and know now that in myself, I can’t fix the many issues. I can’t take away the real pain of loss. I can’t wipe away rejection. There are things I can do to help. I can be a place of comfort, encouragement, and stability. There are things I can do and try to do consistently to ease the discomfort. But in the end, it’s the God of all creation who can bring healing. Knowing that, I prayed fervently for the day that I live in now.
…You know with all your heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the Lord your God gave you has failed. Every promise has been fulfilled; not one has failed.
My mom has started a tradition of taking the girls shopping shortly before their birthday. They’re allowed to pick out their own birthday gifts. Last year, before her 4th birthday, Athena didn’t enjoy the shopping trip. She couldn’t understand why only she was going. Without her sister or I along, Athena was very shy and withdrawn.
This year as her birthday drew near, Athena reminded my mom she needed to take her shopping. With joy, she looked forward to their time together. “And you’re not coming,” she told her sister. “Just me! Only I’m going!” Athena said with a smile.
The Sunday before her birthday, she went. Athena wanted to go to my parents’ house first. My mom had a friend visiting from England. That surprised Athena but it wasn’t long before she was comfortable. Athena devised a plan for lunch – bagels with Nutella and sliced strawberries. Apparently it was delectable. “I made up my own recipe!” Athena told me. Often she contemplates being a baker.
After having lunch, they went shopping. Athena returned talkative and excited. Last year she was sullen for the remainder of the day, unimpressed with the gifts she’d chosen and the fact that I’d sent her off without the safety net of our immediate family.
This year everything was different. More and more, Athena’s becoming comfortable in the world at large. When she sees familiar faces at church, she runs to greet them. When friends come to visit she doesn’t want them to leave.
And the girl who hates photos, kept jumping into every shot I tried to take the day of her birthday. I love watching my girls grow and change. I love seeing them flourish as they become confident in their position and the love of those around them. I love celebrating all God’s done!
Raine is absolutely in love with horses. Before ever having ridden one, she’d already planned her life around having one. Everywhere we go, despite my discouragement, she asks people how much they get paid for the work they do. She’s gathering information to select a career that will give her enough money to own a horse (and buy me an electric car – but that’s another story).
When a friend told me she was putting her 3 foster children in horseback riding daycamp, I decided to send Raine as well. I was sure she’d have the time of her life.
Monday went ok. But Tuesday was a disaster. She refused to listen to the teachers – repeatedly running away from her group into a small cluster of trees. My friends girls went after her. That didn’t help. When my friend’s husband arrived to pick the kids up, Raine was completely out of sorts – telling people to leave her alone and shut up. There’s a lot of power in her verbal punches.
At home, I sat Raine down to talk to her. She dished out more of the same attitude telling me it was none of my business what she did at camp.
Instead of being happy about camp, Raine took it as an act of rejection on my part. She thought I was pushing her away when in reality I was giving her an amazing opportunity.
The more I talked the more hostile Raine became.
“If you keep acting this way at camp, you won’t be able to go back,” I said.
Apparently, the camp instructor had been completely overwhelmed by Raine. I know how forceful she can be. I thought her love of horses would prevent any major upsets. Clearly, I was wrong.
Raine’s attitude stopped when I told her she wasn’t going the next day. Suddenly she relaxed. Then we could talk about the real problem.
“It’s too long to be away from you,” she explained.
“She needs to get used to it,” I’ve been told before by friends and social workers.
It’s true. At 6 1/2yrs this type of separation anxiety isn’t natural nor is it healthy. Before the adoption, when Raine was my foster child, she did really well at daycare two days a week. There were never any issues. But something happened with the adoption. It introduced a deep rooted fear in Raine. Likely because she was completely cut off from her first mother she worries about loosing me. She knows it’s possible. At the age of 4 1/2 Raine found out parents can change. You can be disconnected from one family and attached to another. Staying with me soothes some of the fears.
So she stayed home on Wednesday. Maybe I should have pushed her. I don’t know. Were she plagued with a physical illness, no one would think anything of me deciding camp turned out to be too much for her. Wounds of the heart are not so easily forgiven.
Our time of being together on Wednesday wasn’t pretty. Raine unloaded all of her anger. She was down right furious that I’d sent her to camp for two days. I wasn’t much help, feeling like a failure. After all this time together, my daughter should be doing better. At least I think she should. I want her to because I can see how the fear cripples her. I know my God is capable of instant miracles. That’s what I want for Raine – a miraculous healing of her heart.
After a few hours of lamenting the state we were in, I realized in many ways we’re ahead instead of behind. Attaching to adoptive parents can be difficult for children – especially in the case of older child adoption. The fact that Raine values our connection so much she’s afraid to loose it is a good thing. Fear isn’t helpful, but the valuing is incredibly significant. She really loves me and wants to be with me. As we move through our day, Raine intentionally imitates me. So much of her pursuits mirror my own interests – gardening, cooking, sewing, and so on. She wants to be like me and wants to be with me. Those are healthy signs of attachment. Maybe we’re not doing as poorly as I thought.
Yes, Raine’s behaviour is completely unacceptable. I’m not excusing the outbursts at camp. In speaking to her about it, Raine reminded me, “I live in fear.” We prayed together. I prayed breaking off fear of rejection.
Thursday Raine was ready to go back to camp. She managed without incident.
Friday, we got to watch her and the other children perform their new found skills.
I wish, for Raine’s sake, the week had gone better. I hate that fear holds her back.
“How do I get it out of me?” she asked.
“The Bible says: perfect love pushes fear out,” I answered. “You need more love.”
Lately my girls have been playing “I’m a New Foster Kid”. The game goes like this: one of them pretends to be a foster child who has just arrived at our home. The other shows them around and explains our life. This past weekend it was Raine’s turn to be “our special guest” (which is how I refer to the foster children who come to us). She decided to call herself Kara. Most of the game was spent correcting Athena who was forever calling her Kiera. During dinner on Saturday, Raine – pretending to be Kara – said, “When I go to my grandma’s tomorrow, I won’t be coming back. I’m going to live there. That’s what happens with some foster kids.”
“You can play that in the game,” I permitted. “But in real life you’re living here.”
“I know,” she answered. “I’m not a foster child.”
This declaration is a small miracle. It’s taken time for Raine to see herself as adopted and a permanent resident here. There are still times she threatens to leave, but most often she’s happy to stay. Never again will Raine or Athena be a new foster child in someone’s home. That is a really big miracle.