Chicago Moms Blog

When Mama is Challenged

I'm flailing, struggling, trying to find what works best for my son...and it's not coming easily for me. He has always been a challenge but as he grows older his issues become more difficult to digest and it seems like some days I look into the eyes and soul of someone completely different. Some days I don't even know who he is.

My son's issues are multifaceted...compounded by medical, neurological, and emotional trauma. Combined, those things make for an extremely interesting child. He is loving and playful, sweet and kind. And seconds later he can stare you down like you were never there.

And that hurts like hell.

We've been working with everyone; psychologists, psychiatrists, therapists, school, social workers, etc. to come up with a solution, behaviorally and medically and nothing is right yet. He does not react well to the stimulants for his ADHD because of his neurological damage and this leads me to believe that he may, in fact, have the Bi-Polar tendencies that I have been seeing for almost two years. 

God Chooses a Mom and a Dad

Erma Bombeck once wrote in her column: Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit. This year, Nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen?

But what she failed to mention is that God chooses a father for those children as well.

Her column goes on to state that a mother of a handicapped (or in this generation, a special needs) child must have patience...but not so much that she would drown in self pity. She must be independent in order to teach her child to live in her world. She must have already sown her oats and been selfish enough for a lifetime...but also know when to separate herself from her child and be able to take a break.

The Truth? I Feel Like a Horrible Mom

Whew, gosh. That is probably one of the hardest things I have ever said. It is almost like admitting I am a failure as a mom.

I constantly ask myself what I did wrong. Did I do this to him or did he "come" this way? Have I just not broken down his barriers yet?

I remember the first time he hit me so clearly.

Best Things Come to Moms Who Wait

There's truth in that there statement.

Some moms wait years, some decades. We waited over two years for our second son to join our family and my are we blessed.

I used to talk with friends at lunch about how I was preparing myself for the "worst"...reading up on FAS, sensory issues, making sure I baby-proofed everything and they thought I was crazy.

They told me that that having children was supposed to be easy. That attachment and bonding came so naturally that there was no need to work on it, that children were resilient and that they would just blend right into our lives.

I'm Boycotting UNICEF's Trick or Treat

When trick or treaters jaunt up to my door dressed in festive gear I will only be handing out candy. I will not, I repeat, WILL NOT, be donating to UNICEF. It's a personal boycott and although I can't tell you what to do I can tell you why I am doing it.

There are hundreds of thousands of people who Trick or Treat for UNICEF, the United Nations Children’s Fund that raises funds for programs that help children all over the world.

Because UNICEF traditionally does help indigenous children I do feel the need to tell you that their money usually does do good (75,000 pregnant women in Haiti benefit from medical equipment and facilities, they address nutrition and health in Viet Nam, and fight AIDS/HIV in Malaysia). I also feel I should tell you where you can get information on where to get the orange box, where to donate, and where you can create your own fund-raiser.

Three Years

Although my little man is five years old (and full of mischief) he has only been in our family for three years, as we adopted him from Arkhangelsk, Russia in July of 2005. He had just turned two, just learned how to walk, and according to the orphanage director, just learned how to smile. After our first visit he learned that there was finally something to be happy for.

We recently had our three year and final post placement report with our social worker and it was completely anti-climactic. I expected it to be a big event and bring some sort of closure to AJ's adoption.

It didn't.

Instead, it was more of a check-up on him and our home. But what it did do was allow me to reminisce about our trip to Russia to celebrate his adoption and bring him home. Our trip was not necessarily a vacation but it was certainly an adventure.

Convenience at What Cost?

I'm goin' out on a whim here by saying that I am totally against this product and all it stands for...convenience in baby feeding? Everything that I have stood for since adopting my first son has been attachment, because every adopted parent HAS to focus on attachment. Do biological parents just not worry about it?

Do they worry more about convenience and accomplishing tasks, getting housework completed and surfing the internet, answering the phone and socializing? Personally, all of those things fell by the wayside when AJ entered our lives. In fact, our social life diminished and we learned who our true friends really were...the ones who called back when I didn't answer the phone.

The Best Christmas Gift Ever, a Son

My week has been an absolute whirlwind and not from the holiday festivities. My husband and I got to meet our son for the first time on Wednesday.

We were told in September that the Guatemalan adoption we had been counting on would probably not happen because of the Hague Treaty so we signed up for domestic as well. About three weeks ago we were told that it was definitely not going to happen (luckily we had already let our hearts accept this so it did not come as a shock).

However, when our social worker called us on Friday and told us she had a newborn for us and asked if we wanted to meet him we knew it was the right thing. Within hours we had a flight and hotel room booked but knew nothing about our son except that he was a newborn, that he was a boy, and that he could be our son.

Grief is Ugly

Grief is ugly no matter how you try to disguise it. It is sorrowful, angry, violent, and just downright ugly.

AJ has finally started to grieve and it is hurting all of us, rightly so. Adoption is hard and no one should ever, ever, ever say that is isn't. It is not the easy way out. It is certainly not the way to go to "avoid" that pregnancy body. For us adoption was the only choice we had if we wanted a family because we could not conceive naturally or medically. We could not even conceive with donors or with a surrogate (and believe me...people asked).

And yes, we grieved. We still do because we missed out on a lot. Family and friends don't welcome an

Doppelganger

While waiting for the ladies' room recently, I started talking to another woman in line. As these things happen, it turns out that she also has adopted twins. Come to our table and meet everyone, she encouraged. Grandma, Grandpa, Dad, Mom, adorable four-year-old twins and their new baby brother, also adopted, were enjoying a (loud) sushi dinner.

We chatted a bit. Her twins also have had language delays and they are very attached to each other."The first eight months were hellish," she told me, "How about you?" "The second decade seems to be going more smoothly than the first," I mused.

On the drive home, I thought about that family. That's what MY life was supposed to be. Intact marriage, a third child, perhaps a girl, after the twins. A nice family outing now and then. We were warned about developmental delays; I expected a few rough months with the boys.

On the glossy pages of the adoption agency are photos of families like this one. There is no mention of dealing with the local police, DCFS, special educators and therapists.

Two days later, I made a late-night drive with one of the boys to the psychiatric hospital. Without even looking in the rearview mirror, I could feel the usual tight grimace of resigned determination. But inside my head, a voice was screaming, "I did not sign on for this!" Pediatric psych wards are not in adoption promotional literature either.

What did I expect? That woman in the restaurant! I anticipated her life for myself.