Tag Archives: single parent adoption

Perseverance

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You may have noticed I’ve been posting on Sunday & Wednesday lately. This week I’m a day late. I’ve been busy getting ready for a mom 2 mom sale this weekend. I have a little coffee & tea business (www.believebistro.com) but that’s a whole other story.

Today I’m back to talking about Raine – who used to go by Sloane in this space. Since the pretense with Athena’s name has ended (Saying Her Name), I thought I might reveal my other daughter’s true name as well.

About a month after the adoption, we started seeing the girls’ birth grandparents. I knew them from visits when Raine & Athena were still foster children. If you want all the details on our situation you can review Open Adoption Part 1 & Part 2.

In the greater scheme of things, I know our connection is immensely valuable. In practicality it’s been challenging. Raine is generally very wild during the visit. And afterwards we endure several days of tantrums lasting hours on end. She screams about how much she hates me and wishes she could be with her birth mother again. The encounters bring to the surface intense emotions generally bubbling under the surface.

At times I’ve considered putting the visits on pause – offering Raine more time to come to terms with her situation. But she is immensely eager to see them. So instead my mom and I have collaborated on things to pray. And I’ve added my own parents to our get togethers. The two couples get along famously. My goal was to show Raine that she has one family who love her. So the past few times we’ve been one big happy family – all of us except Raine that is. She remained agitated during and distraught afterwards.

In an unrelated moment of frustration, I asked Raine, “What can I do to help you?”

“You need to pray a lot more,” she quickly answered.

For the most part she’s resistant to me praying with her. But after that statement we began praying before she went to bed. And I started having her list three things she’s happy about at the end of each day.

This past Saturday we celebrated Raine’s birthday with her birth grandparents (a little late, but their schedules are quite busy). My parents weren’t able to make it but I trust my mom was praying for us.

During the visit Raine was relatively calm. Even her grandmother noticed a big difference. Afterwards I was ready for the onslaught of anger. Instead we sat together looking at the gifts she’d gotten. When bedtime came around we made the list of what she was grateful for. “That you love me every day,” Raine exclaimed. The distance that normally crept between us after visits with birth family wasn’t there.

There haven’t been any outbursts or meltdowns. Raine’s continued to be content and emotionally stable.

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.

Hebrews 10:35-36

Raising my girls can be challenging. There are times my confidence fails me. But in this area I’m glad to have persevered so that Raine, Athena, and I can receive the benefits of their grandparents love for us.

 

Saying Her Name

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As mentioned before, I began blogging when my girls were still foster children. As such, their identities had to be protected. I used alternate names in my blog and have continued to do so. But it gets a little confusing since lots of friends read the blog. In fact when dedicating the girls at church our pastor used the blog name. He quickly corrected himself. I found it funny, but can see how this is getting old. So, tonight’s the big night. I’m going to reveal Elise*’s real name! But you’ll have to read the story to find out.
Once upon a time, in reality, on June 2011 a 21mth old little girl came to me. Her 3yr old sister had arrived 3mths earlier. I had lots of experience

birth picture (courtesy of birth grandmother)

birth picture (courtesy of birth grandmother)

with older special needs children but none with babies. And that’s what she was. The little girl didn’t trust me or anyone else. I’d never seen a child so sad all the time.
For some reason I decided to put mirrors all around her room. Nearly every spot she looked at from the crib showed her reflection. Much later I read somewhere that looking in mirrors helps increase children’s self-esteem. At first she’d cower and turn away whenever she spotted herself. Slowly, over time, she began intentionally looking.

One of the biggest issues was her delayed speech. She could say, “No!” very well but not much else. The previous foster parents had been taking her to speech therapy. I continued with this. During our first appointment, two months after she came to me, I said something very stupid to the therapist.

“I hope she’ll just catch up,” I commented.
“At this point that can’t happen. It will take prolonged, intentional intervention. Even then she may not catch up,” was the gentle answer I received.
My little girl snuggled in my lap, her face hidden from the therapist. Our appointments became monthly. Nothing the therapist did lured her from my arms. I tried really hard to get her to sit at the table and interact with the woman. She wouldn’t. She only wanted my arms around her. I was frustrated, but the therapist rejoiced.
“She used to run around and couldn’t sit for more than 10 seconds,” the woman exclaimed. “There didn’t seem to be much of a connection with the other foster mom.”
I’d worked hard to connect. For the first couple of months she pushed me away continually. I’d just smile and talk. I talked constantly to her, fully expecting her to one day answer.

It became apparent, she understood. When I’d say, “Go get your shoes,” she’d do just that.

In October she began daycare. After a few weeks, the teacher moved her up to the older group where her sister was.

“It’s clear she understands,” the teacher explained. “And she can keep up with the other kids.”

I worried, but it did give her more time with more people talking to her and expecting her to answer. The three year olds wanted much more interaction than the 1 ½-2yrs old she should have been with.

The words came in complete sentences. There was no baby talk. She simply began talking. 9mths after her arrival, she could speak wonderfully. The only thing she wouldn’t say was her name. The speech therapist considered this to be very unusual.

When I spoke her name, it seemed to pain the child. So I called her by nick names that came unintentionally as I made up songs at bedtime. The boo-ka boo baby and beaubeana is what I called her. Her sister didn’t like it, but the other kids joined in.

By the spring of 2012 she was nothing like the baby who arrived in June. Her laughter echoed through the house. She smiled at me and the other kids. Her speech was excellent. Still she wouldn’t say her name.

July 2012 - confident & happy

July 2012 – confident & happy

I prayed off any trauma associated with it. I declared over her the meaning of her name and the verses I’d found connected to that meaning. Still she wouldn’t say it.

Easter Sunday, as we walked into church, a lady I knew stopped to say hello. She knelt down to my little girls and introduced herself then asked their names.

“I’m Athena,” my shy little one blurted out. Immediately her hand shot up to cover her mouth. In absolute shock, Athena looked at me. That was the first time she’d ever said her name. It was completely by accident and made me laugh. In so many ways the Lord had caught this little girl off guard – nudging her into health and wholeness.

In June, a year after Athena came to me, the speech therapist was finally able to complete a formal assessment. In every area Athena tested above average. The therapist was thrilled and completely amazed. “The credit goes to you,” she told me. “You brought this about.”

Jan 2014 - vintage thrift store find

Jan 2014 – modeling her vintage thrift store find

The words she spoke at our first meeting had stayed with me. The prognosis was so dismal – especially since Athena wouldn’t work with the therapist. The prolonged, intentional intervention was me talking to her as though she were an adult. I’ve never been much for baby talk. I do try to speak in age appropriate terms. Since I wasn’t sure at first if Athena understood, I talked to her like an adult. We’d have long conversations at the thrift store. Bear with me for one more story. This was when I caught a glimpse of Athena’s consciousness.

When she’d been with me for two months, I came across these amazing vintage shoes (which I had pictures of but lost when my computer crashed a while ago). I was so excited when I tried them and they fit Athena. Up until that point she’d refused to keep any shoes on. When I attempted to take these off, Athena let out a horrible scream. “Mine,” she shouted. For days she’d only remove the shoes to bath. She even slept with them on. Seems I’d finally found her style – vintage. Just like me!

*name changed

 

Sept 2012 - out for lunch (Athena's favourite activity) shortly after adoption

Sept 2012 – out for lunch (Athena’s favourite activity) shortly after adoption

Open Adoption (Part 2)

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My last post explained the great relationship I have with my daughters’ maternal birth grandmother and step grandfather (Open Adoption Part 1).

Because of that connection, I do have access to Sloane* and Elise*’s birth parents.

There were a lot of mistakes and shortcomings that led to them loosing their children. Kids in foster care are there for a reason. In this case, addictions played a part. Possibly that’s no longer a factor.

The birth father is far away in the US. For the past two years, the birth mom has been living relatively close by. There’s a bit of guilt that passes through me when I think about that. Just over a year ago, Sloane and I met with her (for details on that see We Belong Together). I said it was a one time deal. In some ways the visit helped. In other ways it hasn’t. Knowing her birth mom is accessible keeps Sloane asking for more contact.

Her birth mom was amazing in explaining Sloane can never return to her. But that doesn’t keep the child from hoping. There’s a strong bond between the two of them that isn’t there with Elise. Sloane came into foster care just before turning 3. She’s as sharp as a tack and remembers so much from the past. Elise, on the other hand, was in foster care from birth. She returned to her birth family just before turning 1. It was a brief reunion that ended in her and Sloane coming into foster care together. There’s a big difference in the way they’ve attached to me and how they see adoption.

It may be right. It may be wrong. But for now I’ve decided to keep the door closed on contact with the birth parents.

Before Christmas I compiled several pictures and wrote a summary of the girls’ year. This package was passed on to their grandmother, Sandra*, to give the birth mother, Becka*.

Recently while talking with Sandra, she mentioned planning to visit the birth father. Sloane and Elise have older siblings who are living with him.

“Would it be ok if I copy some pictures of the girls to give him?” she asked.

“Of course,” I answered.

“I didn’t want to do anything without asking you first.” That right there is why our openness agreement works so well. Without me ever having to say anything, Sandra sees me as the mother of her granddaughters. She respects my position.

When Sloane sees Sandra or speaks with her, she’s drawn back into the past. Her heart begins to bleed all over again for the birth parents and siblings she’s living without. With prayer, love, and time I expect that wound to heal to a greater degree. As she grows, Sloane will gain perspective. At 6yrs old she’s still wishing for a life where, “I always got lots of candy and Lucky Charms.” That’s what she recalls of being with her birth parents. It’s not so with me. Candy is a limited commodity and now that Sloane’s completely off wheat Lucky Charms are out of the question. Maybe it wasn’t so with her birth family, but that’s how she remembers it.

As a parent everyday I make hundreds of decisions that will impact my kids now and in the future. With that responsibility comes a great deal of insecurity. “Am I making the right choice?” I wonder all day long. In the case of contact with birth parents, I don’t know. But I appreciate the opportunity to chose. Openness to any degree can be an amazing gift to children and birth families. For now the extent of our openness with the girls’ birth parents will be pictures and letters I’ll send through their grandmother. In the future that might change. It might not.

*name changed

Open Adoption (Part 1)

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Openness is a growing trend in foster care adoptions. It can be scary. A typical private adoption consists of a young mom realizing her own limitations and choosing another family to parent her child. This is agreed to be a selfless act of love. Openness sounds like a great idea in these fairy tale situations.

Events leading to a child being in foster care are dark and sorrowful – nothing like the turn of events described above. Parents rarely choose adoption for their children in foster care. Generally it’s something forced by the court when all efforts at reunification have been exhausted. Birth parents do have to sign legal documents, but it’s not really a voluntary surrendering of their child or children. These kids were forcibly taken – almost without fail for good reason.

Understandably adoptive parents would be leery of openness in these type of situations. However, it is a growing expectation in the case of foster care adoptions. Sometimes it’s not the birth parents but other members of the birth family you’re expected to keep in contact with.

My daughters’ story is somewhat unique. Their birth parents are mostly far away in the US. Since the girls came to me as foster children, I got to know their birth grandmother and her new husband. They live about 1hr away and would visit the kids when they were in foster care. After some supervision, the social worker decided the grandparents could take the children out in the community instead of always meeting at the Children’s Aid Office. That led to them picking the kids up from my home.

Their grandmother and step-grandfather are an amazing Christian couple. They were overjoyed when I adopted their granddaughters. The adoption came with the agreement that I would maintain contact with the grandparents as I saw fit. That meant anything from a yearly update and pictures mailed to the agency or their home to ongoing visits. There was not a regimented visit schedule put in place like when the girls were in foster care – though in some adoption cases there may be. Defining openness was left up to me.

It took awhile for Sloane* to come to terms with our new definition of family. For months she argued that my parents couldn’t be her grandparents because she already had grandparents and “kids only get one like only one mom and one dad – except for me I have two moms. The mom I grew in, and the mom who adopted me.” My explanation that most kids have two sets of grandparents didn’t convince Sloane. Finally I went with her logic, “Because you’re adopted and now have two moms, you also get two grandmas and two grandpas.” She agreed to that.

Adopting as a single person, I’m acutely aware of what my kids miss out on. Being unmarried, there are things I miss out on too. Having an open adoption has given my daughters two sets of grandparents instead of just one. It’s given me in-laws of sorts – in the best way. At our first meeting after the adoption took place, Sloane asked her grandmother to pour her some more juice. “We’ll have to ask your mom about that,” Sandra* answered. It was a small thing, but meant the world. She recognizes my position as the girls’ mother. This is not an easy transition considering she’s known them since birth as belonging to her own daughter.

We get together when we can – to celebrate holidays, birthdays, and just catch up. Sandra calls from time to time. Our relationship goes beyond the children. We’ve become a sort of family.

Usually when I mention this connection, people’s first question is, “Why didn’t the grandmother get custody?” Kinship care – where biological family or close friends/community members care for children instead of having them in foster care and/or adopted – is considered to be preferable. In this case, for reasons you needn’t know, the grandmother didn’t feel she could manage raising her granddaughters. We all rejoice that I get that privilege.

*name changed

in families

Just My Type

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Today my daughter, Sloane*, turns 6. She’s brave and fearless. Social workers cower in her presence. More than one has said, “I’m afraid of what she’ll be like as a teenager.” Let me declare with absolute certainty – I am not afraid! I’m incredibly excited for the teenager Sloane will become.

It’s hard being a kid – especially for someone as powerful as Sloane. Long before she came, long before she was born, the Lord gave me a glimpse of the call on her life. She’ll need to be fearless, I realized. My prayers that she’d be completely free of the fear of man have been answered ten fold. Sometimes that’s good. When I told Sloane how nervous I was preparing to speak at church (see The Single Life) she couldn’t understand why. Other times it’s not so good. My friend was watching Sloane recently. Sloane hit her little boy with a bat. My friend’s husband – who is a fairly intimidating man – told Sloane to give him the bat. She stared him down to see if he was really serious. Thankfully he didn’t back down. Eventually Sloane relented, but without a trace of fear or intimidation. She just knew she’d met someone who needed to be obeyed. That’s the role I play in her life. I’m someone who needs to be obeyed. Most of the time she does just that.

I love who Sloane is – she’s just my type.

A birthday tradition at our home is a new outfit (usually a dress) with the WP_001002 child’s age painted on. I found this shirt saying just my type quite some time ago and knew it was the perfect birthday shirt for Sloane. I turned it into a lengthy dress which she’s very excited about. This mommy favours long dresses and Sloane wants to be like me.

Just after her 3rd birthday Sloane came to me. Soon I will have known her for 1/2 her life. Though there are challenges, I strive to look past the present and see where the Lord wants to take Sloane (and me…..we’re on this journey together, after all!)

I’ve loved her as a 3yr old, a 4yr old, a 5yr old, and will love her forever more. I look forward to the day she can step into her dreams. God knew what He was doing when He brought us together. I understand Sloane’s frustration in waiting.

Recently I was watching a documentary on food scarcity in America called, Room at the Table. Knowing she’s American, Sloane was especially interested in the heartbreaking stories. It wasn’t long before she had a solution to the problem. “People need to grow their own food. The kids at school could do it then take the food home for their moms to cook.” Effortlessly she executed a plan for getting organic seeds to schools and teaching kids to grow. It was a brilliant plan! Detail oriented, Sloane had it all figured out. That was last month – when she was 5.

Sloane is always exploding with business and humanitarian ideas. I understand. That’s how I’ve always been. Though I love my daughter immensely and enjoy the stage she’s at now, I look forward to when she’s a teenager. I’m eager to help bring some of her dreams into reality.

In the meantime we’ll keep on dreaming.

Sloane, you really are just my type. Happy Birthday!

*name changed

the birthday girl in the dress I sort of made

the birthday girl in the dress I sort of made