Thursday, April 10, 2014
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
He stayed with us over the entire summer. I was a little nervous because I honestly didn't know if he was going to have a melt down and start attacking me in the home. But I still fondly remember that summer. D and I arranged our schedules so that one of us was always home with him.
I noticed when telling J "no" that you had to explain WHY he wasn't allowed to do something, He needed to know why and I was patient and always explained. 7 AM "Nicole can I have some ice cream?" my response would always have to be something along the lines of "No, not for breakfast, but, if you help me straighten up the living room later, you may have ice cream after lunch"
Follow through was a big thing too.If I told him that we were going to do something, and we didn't, it caused an issue.
Around came the school year and we asked his mom to sign over temp guardianship so that we could enroll him in school. She flipped out and came to pick him up. That's when I saw his first blow out, he curled up into my lap and cried, but when she grabbed him, he went wild. He began to kick and scream and cry, his nose began to bleed and he started spitting blood into his mother's face. He bit her and scratched her as she tried to wrestle him into the car. All I could do was try to pull her off of him and calm him down. She called the police and then dropped him at the psychiatric ward of the local hospital.
Needless to say about 2 months into the school year DFCS picked up both of her children. At that time we found out we were expecting and couldn't battle for custody again. Sadly J was in foster care until he was 12, from home to home, always attacking the female care givers after the honeymoon period ended. They finally put him in a group home, over the years they would not let me go to the family visits as I was not legally family. He was upset with me for a while but I sent a notebook and re-stamped envelops so that he could write me.
I can say that J is not with his older sister. He has an IEP plan and he has ALL A'S!!!! He's taller than I am, but he still loves me. We go outside and play soccer, he plays the drums for me and loves little things that he was not allowed to do with his mom and FPs. He was RU'd for a while but got into gangs and drugs, and that's when older sister stepped in.
I am so proud of what he has over come, that hes working with a therapist and that he is excelling.
But if you think about it, I would be the parent/guardian of a 14 year at 26
Thursday, May 16, 2013
I would like to ask you a question. Do you know your medical history? Did your grandmother have cancer? Your mom? Maybe even your sister? So that means that you should probably get tested right? Early detection leads to a better quality of life, right? So then what if I told you that I don't know what my family history is? No, I did not loose my family in some horrible accident, no, I am not an orphan. I have a loving family who raised me and loved me. But the thing is, I have 2 identities. My name is Nicole, but my name was once Rachel. You see, I'm an adult adoptee. Like myself, there are so many others who know nothing about our birth families, except for the information that you let them provide in a closed adoption. I know that 26 years ago everyone in my biological family seemed to have been in good health. 26 years is a long time when health issues come to mind.
Now, if I was related by blood to my adoptive family I would know that I need to get checked for diabetes, hypertension, and breast cancer. I would know that weight is a major problem for me when I reached my 40s. But I know none of these things. I get to go to a new doctors office and check unknown for all family history, because I don't know. I know I have another family out there somewhere, but because you feel you need to protect my birth families rights, you step on mine. You step on my children's rights and the future generations of my continued blood line. The thing is, closed adoptions are cruel. You severed the tie between my birth mother and I, you hold my identity hostage and then you praise all of the people out there how have made the choice to relinquish, because families need children. Well what about the children who were removed from unfit homes? Stop grasping for the newborns, stop stealing us away. Use the money and the resources that you have to help those children who need it.
A Pissed Off Adoptee
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
I am adding this to the Hot Button Series, because in all honesty, no one wants to talk about it, but Adoption Issues are a serious thing that affect every adoptee in one way or another and they surface at different times in different lives, but they are very real, and can cripple those who do not have support or those that do not recognize why we are feeling a certain way.
I've been feeling that stupid tug again.... The reoccurring issues of "Who am I?", "Where did I come from?", "What does she look like?"
I'm scanning faces again, looking for anyone who I might look like, but I know I won't find the face I'm looking for.
Looking in the mirror has become difficult again, looking at China Doll's face, that dimple, Monkey and CD's toes, they got those traits from me, but where did I get them?
I was reading THIS article and it made a lot of sense to me, some things I do not agree with as these are generalized statements, but for me personally, a lot of it rang true.
THIS article made me want to write my own "Personal History" just so I can show you how One sided my history is, this is what I know from "stories" from my adoptive family and my Non-Id information given to me by Catholic Charities
"I was born on Sept. 15, 1986, in Arlington County Virginia, No I do not know what city. My mother had just completed her senior year in high school and my father was a college Freshmen. They were both very active in sports and this is how they met. My birth mother become pregnant while they were no longer in a serious relationship. They decided together that their educations were important and that I deserved to be raised in a two parent household. My maternal Grandmother was very supportive and went to all appointments with my mother. They even visited me at the adoption agency before I was placed with my forever family."
Now that I think about it, as an infant, I experienced several losses in my short 3 months of life. You see, the first loss was losing my mother, the woman that carried me in her womb for 9 months, the voice I heard, the heartbeat I had grown to love, the only person I knew. I was then placed with a foster family. This was a family that cared for me, nurtured me, soothed my cries, and tried to fill the void of the loss that I had experienced from the day I was born. When I was placed with my forever family, I experienced the loss of my foster family. The only people I knew to care for me for those short months of my life. I had to adjust so many times in such a short amount of time. And to think, that I would see my birth mother, that she would hold me, that I would feel that bond and connection with the person who kept me safe for 9 months, only to be taken away after a short visit.
I was recently diagnosed with adjustment disorder, and as I've been writing this, I realize that all of the adjustments I had to deal with in as such a small, helpless infant, may be the root cause of why I react so badly to change, why I think everyone I love will leave, why I try so hard to please everyone around me, in fear that I will make one mistake and that they will reject and abandon me.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
I'm such a bad bad bad blogger... if there are any readers still out there... I'm sorry for my prolonged absence but adoption has been the last thing on my mind lately.
I mean, I did say that I was going to start writing about more then just adoption, after all this is my adoption story, so everyday life counts too right?
So, I promise to update AT LEAST once a week.... kk!
So let's see update in my world
Monkey is 6 now and still my inquisitive sensitive soul.
China doll is my diva mess lol. She makes things interesting