A Caring Faith Community

Claudia at http://www.fletcherclan.blogspot.com/ wrote a post a few days ago asking people what their experiences had been finding a faith community that embraced their family.  The reason was that many adoptive families find that the behaviors of their traumatized children are misunderstood  by others, or anger others, and the adoptive parents become marginalized in their church community and often flat out unwelcome.

When Chet was young we belonged to a small church in our community. It is the church I pretty much grew up in.  My grandparents went to that church.  My grandmother and my mother served as directors of the children's programming.  My father was on the search committee that called a new minister when I was in my teens.  I too was heavily involved as a young parent.  I was in charge of the children's programming with my wife.  I was the chair of the parish committee. I served on many other committees.  And when Chet was a young  pre-teen, I left.

I left because I was tired.  I was tired of my child being held to an essentially higher and unattainable standard because I was so involved in the church. I was tired of worrying--of trying to guess what each trigger would be and prevent it or manage it so that Chet did not draw negative attention to himself.  I was tired of my child being labelled.  I actually worked with a minister  there who introduced me to a new family as the "parent of the little ADHD boy from India."  Chet had so much more than ADHD going on I suppose I should be grateful.  Instead I went home and cried.  THAT was how he saw my son?  He did not see the enthusiasm with which he worked packing food each month as part of the SHARE program?  He did not see his happy cheerful demeanor each Sunday at church?  He did not see the energy he brought to everything he did?

I wanted my son to have a meaningful coming of age experience.  I knew that this could not happen in my local church.  There were not enough children of his age.  Additionally we were a family that stood out even if Chet had not had behavioral difficulties.  We were a gay couple, who had adopted transracially.  I wanted to have a faith community where we were one of a number of similar situations. 

Ultimately this meant that I had to be willing to drive 35 minutes to church each Sunday.  But our church has a lot of families built through adoption just like ours.  It has families that are gay.  It has families that are transracial.  It has families whose children struggle.  And we all work together to try and make sure that everyone has a meaningul worshipful experience.

When Chet went through coming of age, I was invited to speak with the group of young teens that comprised his COA class.  The teens and the mentors wanted to know how to help Chet have a meaningful experience and how to interact with him. They were open to discussing his triggers, what to do or say when he became stressed or fixated and how to help him participate in group experiences.  I remember crying when I finished the workshop.  Not because of sadness, because it was the first time that I felt that a group of people looked at my son and saw him as a person they wanted to respond to. Not a person they wanted to label and push to the side.  Chet went through the whole coming of age experience, including the retreat and the vision questing component. His experiences were deep and profound and his presence there did not cause anyone to have a less meaningful experience of their own.

As Chet moved into young adulthood he no longer wanted to sit with his family in church.  There are not a lot of experiences or ways that he can successfully asert his independence but church was one of those places.  Because his autism causes him to miss social nuances or misinterpret social cues though, it was not possible to just let him sit anywhere on his own. When the minister would ask a rhetorical question (or one that most people would silently ponder) Chet thought he should shout out his reponse. LOL  He is wiggly and twitchy and easily distracted by noises as filtering his environment is hard for him. 

Our church has a disability task force.  The group have made our facility handicapped assessible in a myriad of ways.  Wheelchairs can get in and out of the sanctuary and the bathrooms.  There are hearing asistance devices and large print hymnals available.  And they helped Chet. They met with me and said that they would be willing to work with me to train "church buddies" who would take turns sitting with Chet to help him handle his sanctuary experience in a way that would not detract from the experience of others.  I trained about 6 people.  All were kind and open.  Many said that they didn't know Chet was disabled, but they all thought he was a lot younger age wise than he truly was.  (if he was 18 or so when we did this, they were pegging him at 15)  None of them understood until we talked extensively that the kind of typical banter one would do with a teen was confusing to him and would lead to an escalation of behaviors. 

For about 2 years we intensively relied on the "buddy" system.  He would sit with a trained buddy at service and I would hook up with him at coffee hour time.  Usually I just came over and chatted up the buddy about something--sermon topic, upcoming event, the weather (LOL) and after a few minutes they would say goodbye to Chet and get to enjoy the remainder of fellowship on their own. 

Chet is 26 now.  He hasn't needed a weekly buddy for some time.  He can and does learn. Or if not learn, absorbs a pattern if it is consistant.  Most Sundays he sits by himself very proudly in the specific chair that the task force found for him.  (Due to sensory issues our wooden pews caused him to fidget excessively and complain that they made his leg go numb.  They found a padded chair and put it in the back of the church in a quiet location for him.  He can see the entire panorama of the service without feeling the need to swivel around and see who is behind him.  He helps with the ushering.  He helps with setting out the food at fellowship. He will come early and help set up for an event. His enthusiasm and desire to help remain as boundless as when he was a youngster.

But the climate of our church is really what makes the difference.  The warmth and the welcoming and yes, the accommodating, make this not just a place to reflect and be in relationship with the Source, but also a place where I know my entire family is welcome.

Guardianship for Fiona

A  comment on my blog asked if I had considered becoming Fiona's legal guardian.  This is very much a possibility if things go well.  In Fiona's case, she is supposed to be able to remain at the Great School till age 22 so we have 2 more years before there will be a transition.  The main fly in the ointment is that the DCF who still oversee her case did not want to transfer oversight up here. We are significantly away distance wise and I feel to be as present as I want to be and as I should be in Fiona's life, we need to be geographically closer.

Recently DCF has begun to make noises that they would reconsider this edict which would allow us to look into DMR and DMH services in my area and group homes etc that are much closer to us.  Jane is very supportive of this and so was Fi's last social worker--who went out on maternity leave 2 weeks ago and now we have to explain all this to the new worker.

I don't live with uncertainty particularly well.  The ambiguity of all this drives me round the bend.  When I get stressed about this though, I remind myself that my daughter has lived with this her whole life.  With other people calling the shots, with moves she has had no input in and control over, with general uncertainty.  So I will keep trying my best and hope for the best and support Fiona in whatever way I can.

Hating my job tonight

So we all have days when our job is not sunshine and roses.  Sigh.  But I hate my job tonight. Today one of the residents where I work had a mental health crisis.  This resulted in the person making a choice to behave in a way that could be interpreted as threatening and involved a weapon.  In reality it was pretty clear to me at the scene that he was really intent on self harm and looking for a way to cry out for help. Thus taking the crisis to the admin area where I work.  At no time did anyone get hurt and the weapon was removed from h is possession without incident. The police were called and he will hopefully have the help he needs to stabalize.

But the incident will cause my employer to take steps that will impact detrimentally on this person.  I understand that they are not taking this course lightly and that showing up in an office with a weapon is never a great thing.  It isn't exactly the first time I have dealt with this in my 30 years of employment though so I am pretty unflappable.  LOL  I suggested a couple of alternatives to their more drastic steps and they will not be implemented.

I know my company is doing what they need to do from a business standpoint, but my heart hurts for this person and their family.  Mental illness is a tough tough thing to deal with.  In my biological family I have several people with significant mental health issues.  There have been attempts at self harm. There have been hospitalizations. 

 My daughter Fiona deals with mental health issues that in many ways are similar to this young person's.  I worry that someday there will not be someone there who can talk her down and will instead take her down.  Who will not see the pain and see only a threat.  I wish as a society we were brave enough to choose the road of compassion more often.

No Call From Fiona

Jane called last night to let me know that Fiona was not making a call.  Jane had been postponing telling me because KC had desperately hoped  that Fiona would call to wish him Happy Birthday.  Jane hoped that he had forgotten.  Not a chance.  When the phone rang he ran following me into the room where I sit to talk and mouthed "Is it my sister for me."  Sigh.  Trauma keeps on hurting.

The thing that worries me the most is finding a way for Fiona to successfully "re-enter" her life so to speak after a visit.  I am lucky that the team at the Great School are supportive of visits even when there is increasing emotional fall out after one.  I worry that if we don't get things to be a bit calmer that we could have our visits curtailed in some way.  Now mind you, I don't know that would happen. That is just my irrational brain responding to the situation and the bad things that have happened over the years in the past when we were trying to visit. At some point, Fiona will graduate from the Great School and I don't know that a new placement will be as thoughtful and open minded as the team where she is now. 

Sigh.  There is no answer obviously.  I need to just trust that we can work on the healing and that things will be okay.  And repeat that over and over to myself.

Fiona's Visit

Yesterday Fiona came out for a family visit.  She and Jane arrived about 12:30 or 1 p.m. and they didn't leave till nearly 4:30, making it the longest visit we have been allowed to have since Fiona went to the Great School in the Big City.  Jane only stayed about 15 minutes at the front end and then she and her dog excused themselves.  In a totally amazing and lucky turn of events, we have the most non territorial dog in America who truly thinks Jane's dog is his new B.F.F. and can't wait for the dog to show up! He doesn't mind if Jets comes in the house, plays with his toys, pees in his yard. . . but I digress.

After Jane left, I got lunch together with Rob and Fiona helped with dessert (decorating cupcakes).  We had a nice, easy lunch together and then cleaned up and went down to our local mall to play Glow Golf.  The kids and I have never played glow in the dark mini golf before.  It is a trip!  LOL  At least being in near darkness gave me a reason to be a bad golfer!  Everyone had fun and there was no drama. 

Fiona is a bit of a shop-a-holic. LOL  Totally appropriate for a young woman, but not something I can do all the time with the age spread of my gang.  We attempted to visit a store after the golfing but Lissa had had enough and showed the whole store and her big sister just how done she was with all of this!  Fi was gracious about it and I carried the now sobbing tired Lissa the length of the mall to our exit to the car.  Explains why I have a lower back ache today I suspect.  :-)

Back home we played out in the back yard for almost an hour, came in and had a  cool drink and then before we knew it Jane and her pooch had arrived back at the house.  I reminded Fiona to take her prn med and she did so without incident.  This is a mild extra dose that is supposed to help her handle the stress of leaving and going back to school.  Previous visits have had some pretty hard days post visit for her and thoughtful review by the team resulted in the suggestion that this small dose might be all she needs.  Once she is integrated back at school things are usually okay.  It is the getting back in the groove, those first few hours, that are 'make or break' for her and transitions have always been really tough for her regardless of what they are for.  The problem was getting Fiona on board with trying this and so I had made it part of our visit plan.  I don't know that it is "right," but did feel it was worth a try.  

Jane had also asked if we would do a typical de-briefing of our feelings as a group with Fiona which we all did.  KC and Lissa were characteristically open about things for the most part.  Rob, his typical reticent self.  He is willing to openly own positive feelings, it is much harder for him to verbalize things like "angry" "anxious" etc.  But he made a solid effort and I think it went well.

I am hoping and praying that Fiona feels how much we love her and how much a part of our life she is.  Above all, she is my  eldest daughter and she will always hold a special place in my heart.

Real Mothers and the Adoption Controversy

There have been some excellent posts written lately about the subject of "real" mothers.  You know, that question that adoptive parents sometimes get from clue less strangers when you least expect it.  (i.e. you are tired, your child is ill, you are stressed, etc)  "Oh, excuse me, are you his/her real mother?"  In the world of first parents, we are not.  And it took a long time for me to come to terms with this. I suspect I am a slow learner.  But I can only come to a situation from my own experience and this is not as a first parent.

I used to be really angry when I was asked this.  Maybe part of me felt my abilities as a parent were being questioned in the early days.  Later I just got angry because frankly, if I am in ER because my daughter had a traumatic injury caused by jumping off ourcouch, I do not expect to be asked such a question or the follow-up winner of insensitivity--"Oh by the way, where did you get her?"  Really?  You went to med school and managed to come out with that?  (for those who care, I wrote a letter to the editor of our newspaper regarding that tidbit of insensitivity.)

But I am rambling.  Nowadays, this does not bother me.  Because my answer is that I am one of their real mothers.  I am not their first mother.  I did not experience that miracle of birth.  But for a myriad of private reasons, none of my children would not have been safe and would not have thrived in their first families.  For their sakes, I wish that was different.  But cycles of addiction and abuse and the toll of mental illness take a long time to break.  But I also don't believe we risk children while on the altar of family preservation. They are too precious and too easily harmed.  Harmed in ways we see and ways that are harder to know.  So in  a nutshell I think my kids are safer in our home.  Are they happier?  Not necessarily. This does not mean they are unhappy, but I know that being here, even being loved with every fiber of my being, does not negate the loss that is the yin to adoptions yang.

In one of my favorite books, The Velveteen Rabbit a stuffed rabbit became real when he was loved.  I became a real mother through loving.  That's real enough for me.

Rob and KC at 8

Next Tuesday, KC turns 8!  It always catches me off guard somehow when the kids are woosh--another year older. But for him, 8 is  a "big deal" birthday.  He feels like he will be soooo much bigger and able to do things that were not possible at 7.  (I think this fact is a bit tied to our upcoming Disney trip and the fact that it may make some experiences there possible.)  For me, I think it is a memorable birthday because he will be turning the same age that Rob was when he was born.  In so many ways, I see glimpses of "little Rob" in the things that KC likes and does.  Books that Rob loved then are faves of KC.  Dangerous bike tricks that made me cringe with Rob have come back to revisit my thinning hair with KC. LOL

What is different, is the expression of feelings. Rob at 8 could not do that.  It wasn't safe. It wasn't even anything he was remotely experienced in doing.  He smiled at all the right times.  He participated in the event or experience.  But he wasn't deeply connected.  He was too afraid.

When Rob was 8, I was ignorant of that.  My only other experience raising a child at that time was Chet who due to  his autism was always different in his responses.  So to me, back then, Rob was fine.  It is mostly by knowing Rob now and seeing the changes in him that I know how very not fine he was then.  And by seeing how open KC is with his thoughts and feelings as well. 

This doesn't mean I think I would have done anything differently with Rob.  In some ways, I think ignorance was bliss.  It let him take in as much as he was able without demands for more from him.  And I am a very attachment oriented parent who always has lots of cuddles, together time, notes on pillows, etc so I think he was constantly getting told  and shown how much he was loved.  It just took a long time for his heart to feel safe enough to believe it.