Moving On: Leaving Behind the Sadness

We recently moved. Ironically we weren't intending on moving but some folks put a flyer in our mailbox and the mailboxes of our neighbors advertising that they would like to purchase the style townhouse that we owned, which there are a limited number of in the community. My wife and I thought it over for a weekend and then said: "why not let them just see the house and then see what happens." And so we did.

The couple came and saw our house on Friday, April 20th and put an offer in of our asking price to purchase it the following Monday. Ten days later we put an offer on a house in a nearby neighborhood. A neighborhood that we didn't really know that well but it had a lot of things we were looking for; single-family house, close to shopping and restaurants, only 15 minutes for me to commute to my yoga studio, 15 minutes to water for kayaking, on a bike trail and had a big backyard with the option for gardening. We moved into our new house on June 10th.

It's been a whirlwind of a time, to say the least. But we are finally settled into the new house and enjoying all the things that it has to offer. Most importantly the fresh start to create new memories. Our old house held a lot of sadness for us. Don't get me wrong we had some wonderful times in the four years that we lived there and made friendships with some great neighbors but there have been some major blows to our family. We waded through the sadness of a miscarriage in that house and then the disruption of our adoption of a boy from foster care. Those walls held that pain and every time we entered we were reminded of the reason why we purchased that house in the first place, the intention to expand our family. It felt like a constant disappointment and we needed a change.

I believe that God puts people in our lives for a reason. The family that arrived on our doorstep wanting to buy our house was a gift from the Universe that we didn't know that we needed. Each step in the process of selling our old house and buying the new house has been flawless, there have been no hiccups. A sure sign that this was meant to be our new journey.

Stay tuned for a Before and After picture post of the old house, we did a lot of work in creating that home, I truly hope the next family enjoys their time there and fills the walls with laughter and fun!

Adoption from Foster Care- Sitting with Sadness

A year ago today we were driving two hours away to meet who we thought would be our son. We were full of hope and fear as we drove to another state to meet face to face for the first time the child that we were matched with by an adoption recruiter and social worker.

We were intending to adopt an older child from the foster care system and inquired on over 70 children. The process took a year. A year of daily, scrolling through images and reading profiles of the children in the foster care system who are intending to be adopted from various websites. We then submitted inquiries and then scheduled phone conferences with our adoption agency and the child's social worker so that they could learn more about us and for us to learn more about that particular child. It was often in these conversations that we discovered that we weren't the right family for that child whether it be because they needed to be the only child in the home because they were sexually acting out towards other children and we already have two children in our home that we didn't want to subject to that possibility. Or that they needed services that we weren't able to commit to. We believed in our hearts that an older child would really benefit from being in our family. We are loving and kind, our family thrives on routine and schedules (which is often the thing that kids in the foster care system crave in a family structure) and we had knowledge of trauma and parenting kids with special needs. 
 
On the drive my wife and I talked about what it will be like to meet him, we were giddy with excitement. I spent more time than usual picking out my outfit that day, routinely reminding myself as I tried on several different combinations of pants and dresses, "He's 9! He won't even notice what you are wearing!". But I wanted to make a good first impression. My wife packed up a bag of balls; football, basketball and our beach frisbee to have things to play with him outside and to show him that we are an active family. Something that his social worker mentioned that he is looking for in his "forever family".

We were scared of the unknown; would he like us, would we like him? Would he get along with L and Z, our other two children? Was he kind to animals? Would he accept a family with two moms?

Fear of the unknown often keeps us from going forward. It keeps us stuck in the same place which can be quite comfortable but it is limiting our experiences and the depth of our lives. My wife and I aren't the type of people who stay stagnant, we yearn for expansion. We believe in growth; physically, mentally and spiritually. A lot has happened in this past year. This incredible little boy who we opened our hearts and home to wasn't able to accept our love and decided that he didn't want to be adopted; not by us...not by anyone. Our hearts are broken, but we are healing. We are moving forward. Step by step, day by day.... I know that it will continue to get easier to heal from this experience. But today holds sadness and I'm going to sit with that for awhile.

Rituals- How a Simple Action Saved my Sanity

It's 5:45am, I'm tired and wishing I went to bed earlier the night before. I sit in my kitchen with a cup of coffee and my journal. I begin to write, pen on paper, as the dogs munch on their food in the background. The house is still except the sounds coming from me and the dogs and this is why I get up at this insanely early time. To enjoy this stillness.

When M, the older child that we were trying to adopt from the foster care system, was living with us I learned to do this. To get up earlier than anyone else in the house. I knew that the moment he would wake up and emerge from his room he'd come downstairs and be disappointed that it was me and not my wife in the kitchen, every single weekday. He'd immediately want to start a fight about something; the choices he had for breakfast, the lunch that my wife made for him not looking good or simply having to go to school. The morning stillness became necessary for my soul to battle the storm ahead. And this survival skill, it stuck.

M is no longer living with us, I no longer have to prepare myself for a battle in my emotional spirit on a daily basis but I discovered how important it is for me to have this moment of calm reflection so that I can function as my best self. The time that he spent in our house was hard but I cultivated this skill of getting up early and journaling, I learned so much about myself and my needs for self care in the process of parenting him.

The coffee maker has a timer, when I arrive in the kitchen it's ready for me to pour a cup. I read an entry from a book and then I journal and drink coffee. The books have varied from spirituality and mediation, bible quotes and inspirational snippets from leaders of companies. I have no agenda other than to freely write. It doesn't matter for how long. It just matters that I do it. I know that I will feel better in my body and spirit if I do this thing every morning.

Do you have a morning or evening ritual built into your day to sit and reflect on everything that is going on if your life? Try pulling out a journal or notebook and writing out your thoughts. Any type of book will do, it doesn't have to be pretty or inspirational, a composition book will do the job. As you write ignore the misspellings and incorrect punctuation and freely write the things that come to your mind. Set aside a time to do this every day. The more you practice this ritual, the easier it becomes to do. The writing content doesn't have to be anything spectacular, that isn't the point. The point is to connect to your soul, to reflect on your life and the choices you are making. Don't read what you wrote, just close the book and move on with your day or evening. This isn't for judgment or ridicule, this is simply to put the thoughts on the page. Having a book to read an entry from has helped me to start getting my thoughts on the page. Here are some that I have used and enjoyed:

• Meditations on Intention and Being: Daily Reflections on the Path of Yoga, Mindfulness, and Compassion
  
• When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times
  
• Shalom for the Heart: Torah-Inspired Devotions for a Sacred Life
  
• The Secret Power of Yoga: A Woman's Guide to the Heart and Spirit of the Yoga Sutras
  
• Flip Calendar - God in Every Moment     

Snapshot of Our Lives- Growth

On the wall in our kitchen hangs one of the most important pieces of paper in our family. It's not a birth certificate or a marriage license or a degree of any kind. It's hung by duct tape in a haphazard way. Completely out of place in our organized, tidy, everything matches or coordinates (in the same color palette) decorating scheme. It's physical form is two lined sheets of notebook paper taped together with scotch tape and then hung on the wall using duct tape. It's been there almost a year in that same spot where it was originally hung. It documents the boys' heights. Their physical growth. But there is so much symbolism in those two sheets of paper taped to the wall.

Life happens fast.
Not everything can be controlled.   
Love is sometimes ugly.

I love those two sheets of paper and if the house was on fire it would be one of the things I grab as I run out. It documents growth, physically, of course but it also documents where our family has been over the course of this very trying year. It has M's height, the child we were intending to adopt on the day he arrived and the week that he left. It has my height, 5 foot 3inches, and I can remember the smile on L's face as he celebrated being taller than me. It has my wife Lauren's height and you can currently see that L is about to pass her as well. I can still hear the "yes!" uttered from the back of Z's throat when we discovered he was tall enough to finally ride in the front seat.

Once the children are finished growing I'm going to frame it and hang it on the wall in a place of honor. It's a snapshot of our lives and I adore it more than the matching pillows and the perfectly aligned books. It's our life and it's messy and slightly off-balance, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Adoption From Foster Care- This House Needs Healing

In the last two months we seriously contemplated the idea of moving to another house, in the town in which we live. Actively doing Zillow searches and drive by of potential houses on the market in our price range, while making mental lists of our “must haves”. Then we thought what if we stay in our current house but purchased a small condo at the beach! Our weekends became about scheduling day trips to make the two and a half hour drive to the beach to look at properties. We found a community we really liked and put an offer on a condo in order to have another place to go and escape to.

We bought this house with the intention of expanding our family. The fourth bedroom was supposed to be his room, and it was his room for a short period of time but now it is nothing. And it has been nothing since he left three months ago. We refer to it as the “guest room” but it doesn’t feel that way, nor have we had any guests since he left.
It feels empty, both physically and emotionally.

After our offer was countered for a second time on the beach condo and the asking price was at a dollar amount that we didn’t feel comfortable spending, my wife and I sat down to talk about what we need in our lives and what we want.
We need more healing.

We need to not walk past this empty room everyday and feel broken-hearted. It’s hard to move on when there is a constant reminder of what was supposed to be. For my wife buying a new house felt like a fresh start but for me, I started to feel waves of anxiety. In previous years, I typically am the one leading the “let’s move” crusade. But I like this house, I like being a part of this community and I don’t have the energy right now to redo a kitchen or a bathroom again. I just want to feel settled for a little while.

“What if…” I say to her with a sly smile. “What if we did something untraditional?”
My wife just looks at me guarded and I imagine in her mind that she is thinking to herself, “No Gretchen we are not hanging silk hammocks from the ceiling and turning the room into your personal acro yoga space.”
I continue, “Okay what we don’t like about this house is having an eat-in kitchen and not having a dining room to entertain and invite people over for dinner.”
She nods waiting for me to continue.
“On the other hand, we never invite people over to watch television. We never actually even sit in the living room when people come over, we end up cramped in that tiny eat-in kitchen area. So what if we moved the living room to the fourth bedroom, it’s just us watching a movie up there anyway. We can turn it into a media room! And then what if we moved the dining room into what is currently the living room, we can then expand the table and invite a lot of people over. And then we can create these little corners of contemplation in there. Where we can sit and look out at the woods and read a book, to have these glimmers of life that feel like vacation in our house.”

She thinks about it for a few seconds where the air feels stagnant and then she smiles at me. “I love it!”, she says.

The conversation goes in a whirlwind as we talk about buying a new sofa and definitely needing different chairs for the dining room that feel more comfortable to sit and talk. I look into her eyes and at this point I’m crying, “I don’t want to hate this house because he’s not in it. We loved this house before he came and we still love each other and the boys. We need to face these emotions and not run from them. I want to feel settled. I want us to heal. And yes we bought this house with the intention of expanding our family but “life” happens. There are so many points in our lives when we set out on one course expecting to do one thing and then something happens to change our opinion or a different opportunity presents itself and we go in an entirely new direction. We need to heal, we don’t need to run.”

We hold each other in an embrace and cry, the tears that we have been holding inside since he left finally are released. And it feels like the very beginning again, it feels full of hope. And now with the decor renovation coming to a close it feels like a rebirth in this house, healing feels possible.

Adoption From Foster Care- What's my take away lesson?

Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash

After I have endured a difficult experience in my life and once it's over and some time has passed I like to take a moment and reflect on the lessons learned throughout the process. I believe that the Universe oftentimes holds a mirror up to you and reflects back to you what you need to see by putting those people or experiences in your life. What is my "take-away" from this experience? What am I supposed to learn by parenting M?

The lesson that I think I learned by having M in our home is how important self care is, luxuries that maybe you didn't allot for previously. And by luxuries I'm not just talking about things that cost money but also about the luxury of time spent doing something. When M was living with us I was depleted; emotionally, spiritually and physically. I was at the bottom of my well. To be honest, it's been a really long time since I've been in that place and it scared me to be back there. So I reached out and grabbed for life preservers. I immediately went for the self care items that I have used in the past; yoga and meditation. But I have practiced yoga and meditation on a daily basis for many, many years and it use to feel like self care to me but now it's just a part of my normal day like having a cup of coffee. I needed something new. Someone suggested acupuncture and when I was pregnant with Z (12 years ago) I did acupuncture my entire pregnancy, so it wasn't exactly a new idea for me but it had been so long that I had forgotten about how wonderful it was. I made the appointment and fell in love again with the practice.

I also bought running shoes. I've never been the type of person who loves running and I still don't know if I would utter the word "love" in the same sentence as the word "running" but let's just say I enjoy running now. I enjoy the feeling of power in my legs and the way my lungs feel filling up with air. I enjoy the psychological twist, like I am "running from my problems". After sitting in meditation where I lean into problems and explore their depths. It's nice to feel as though I can run away from them as well, we can do both. It's a beautiful balance.

And the most important part of my lesson on self care is that I am writing again. Two years ago when we started this process of adoption I was near being finished writing my book, a memoir mixed with yoga philosophies, and I put it on hold because I was scared to throw it out into the world when we were trying to adopt a child. That somehow it would cloud other people's opinions of me since I have lived a very full life and in the book I talk openly about my struggles with addiction. But now I know how important these stories are and I want to share them with the world. Maybe each of you can see a glimmer of yourself or someone you know within the stories I'm retelling. And rather than feeling judged, I'll feel as though I am a part of someone else's healing and self care. What if we each sent out into the world the energy that we needed in return? What if we each influenced the self care of others by simply being an example, of living by example. By allowing ourselves the luxury of time spent devoted to ourselves and rather than going through our days feeling rushed and stressed out instead we entered the world full; emotionally, spiritually and physically.
That's the world I'd like to live in, wouldn't you?

Adoption from Foster Care- Saying Goodbye

Many of you have followed along via this blog and social media as my wife and I and our two boys navigated adoption from the foster care system. It's been an emotional experience. We did the proper training, read so many books on parenting children who have experienced trauma and neglect, we felt prepared and to top it off we have personal experience parenting a special needs child so we know how to navigate IEPs (Individualized Education Plans) and specialized therapies. We created calendars and charts to relieve anxiety for him and to be clear on expectations. We wanted to set him up for success and to feel at ease transitioning into our home. 

We have been working with a private agency and he came into our lives from another state. We spent months visiting him twice a week so that we could get to know each other, to ensure a successful placement. We thought that this was the perfect match. 

But it wasn't until he arrived that we were aware of some of his diagnosis, and his history of behaviors in prior placements. Though he never expressed these behaviors prior to placement in our home, during our visits he seemed like a different child. But once we were living with those behaviors for 24 hours a day, it was then that we truly understood them. What we didn't realize is how one person's behavior in our house can cause so much turmoil.

On a random day when everything was going well and everyone was in a good mood, he confided in my wife that he doesn't in fact want to be adopted. At nine years old he is allowed to make that choice and he would rather jump around from home to home and age out of the foster care system than to be adopted by another family because as he puts it, "I already have a family."

It has been two weeks since he left and we have slowly put the pieces of our family back together again. It's surreal how this child was a part of our lives and now he's out there in the world and we have no idea where he is or how he's doing. My heart is sad for him. I include him in my daily prayers, that he will find peace within himself. That he will be able to be open to love and accept it willingly. I ask God to watch over him and to someday allow our paths in life to cross again. Greatness is inside of that child. He could be someone quite amazing some day. And I hope that that special person, whether a foster parent or a coach or teacher, is able to connect with him on a deeper level and allow him the space to accept that his past does not define who he will become. Our stories shape us but they don't define us. 

For now we say goodbye. And we heal. Thank you for your support and love. We appreciate all the kind words and gestures as we navigate these new emotions of loss. 

Adoption From Foster Care- How are you?

Picture by Oscar Keys

"How are you doing?", it's a question I get asked almost daily. We all do. By your office mates, the check out girl at the grocery store or your mom when you call her for your weekly check-in. "How are you doing?" Often times we respond with a simple, "fine" or "good". But the truth is never that simple, not for you or me. And for some reason it takes a few rounds of back and forth in the conversation before we really get to the heart of what it is that we are feeling, if we get there at all. 

How am I doing?

I feel like I'm treading water in the ocean and my legs are exhausted. If I stop, I'll drown so I keep treading water because it's all I know how to do. Pumping my legs round and round, trying to keep my head above water. (Of course I'm not actually treading water but it's the best analogy I can come up with.) 
I'm running a successful business, my wife and I are trying to make time for our marriage while we navigate parenting a child from the foster care system that has experienced so much trauma in his short life and expresses himself through defiance on a daily basis while also parenting our two other kids (who are thankfully going through a calm period in their lives-knock on wood). We have a lot of balls in the air that we are juggling and somedays it feels like they all might go crashing to the floor at once.

Things have not gone as we had hoped and planned for. The child that we visited for five months, twice a week and participated in family therapy is not the same child that currently lives with us. Physically yes, it's the same child, but behavior wise he's different. We never saw the defiance, anger or the negativity when we visited him, but now it's constant. There are no triggers that will set him off, an everyday request like "Get your shoes on, it's time to go to school." will spin him into an argument. It is extremely difficult and stressful to be around every single day, I feel as though I'm walking in a mine field and at any moment I might step on a bomb. My guard is up all the time, and I personally don't like to live with my guard up.

To be honest, I don't like the type of person that his defiance makes me become. The type of person that calls out demands instead of talking or discussing, which is more my style. I prefer to parent from a place of love and kindness. But he's never known love or kindness and so it feels foreign to him and different and what he has learned is to defy what is different. To push it away in order to protect himself. We received training, I've read more and continue to read more books on his diagnoses, we've been counseled by doctors and therapists and I want to believe that we are the right family for him, that we can give him the safety, support and love that he deserves and that will make him see that he can live a happy life. But each day, I feel like the waves are getting bigger and my head comes closer to sinking under.    

"How are you?"
I'm going to stop asking this question to other people when I see them because I don't know if I can answer the question myself without it feeling like I'm taking a seat on the therapy couch or avoiding answering truthfully and giving a blanket "fine". I'm going to replace it with "What is new in your world?". That's a question that I can answer without breaking down into tears. That's a question that propels us into conversation and connection. So...what is new in your world?

Adoption From Foster Care- Everyday Moments Missed

Our newest son is nine years old and we are in the process of adopting him from the foster care system. We have a routine that we follow in the morning, like most families do, before the kids can have screen time. Breakfast, finish whatever homework that wasn't completed the night before, pack up everything into the backpack and of course brush your teeth.

Like all mornings we go into the bathroom together, he and I brush our teeth together. (This guarantees that it actually gets done.) Then I typically start doing my own hair and makeup. M doesn't like to be alone and doesn't know how to entertain himself. Everyday I give him three choices of things he could be doing; playing with toys in the next room, starting his screen time or draw. "No, I'll wait for you to finish.", he always says. The more comfortable he has become with me, the more intrigued he has become with my morning ritual.

"Do boys wear blush?", he asked. "What's that for? Why do you make that face?", as I suck in my cheekbones to apply blush. I've had similar conversations with my biological children, L and Z when they were around two or three years old. Small kids are naturally curious about what their parents are doing that is different from what they do in the bathroom and a part of them wants to experience it too. So M asked if he could try it. I purposively wanted to tread lightly on this subject area, trying to be really careful about what I said because I want to stay neutral. I don't want to be apart of labeling, the "make up is only for girls- boys can't wear makeup" that society puts on all of us. I've never understood why makeup isn't for all genders, just because you are a man doesn't mean you have a flawless complexion and if a little concealer helps to make you feel confident I say- go for it!

"Some boys. Boys who are on TV or in movies, they have to wear makeup.", I reply. He wanted to try the blush so I fake put some on him, just as I did when L and Z were preschool aged. There was a period of time when Z was about two years old, he walked around carrying a compact blush brush clasped in his little hand. He took it everywhere and would randomly sweep it on his face throughout the day. And then one day it was in the bottom of the toy bin, forgotten. For children it's about the sensory experience of feeling that soft blush brush sweep your cheekbones and face and tickle a wee bit. We talked about how good that felt.

Next I put on eyeliner. He wanted to know what it was for, so I showed him what it looked like on me with eyeliner on one eye and one without so he could see the difference. I explained to him that he has almond shape eyes which so many people wish they had and that some people use eyeliner to create that almond shape or to enhance it.

"Do boys wear eyeliner?", he asked.
"Some boys. Especially boys who are in rock bands! Sometimes you'll see that Adam Levine wears eyeliner. And Prince he wore eyeliner all the time."
"Can I wear it?"
"Well it's not a good idea to wear eyeliner when you aren't really use to it because if you rub your eyes at school it will get all over your face.", I cautiously respond.
Then the same conversation about mascara, with exactly the same questions. And I respond the exact same way.

At the end of my makeup routine I apply a pressed powder which is also applied with a brush similar looking to the blush brush. A huge smile spread across his face and he asked if he could have some. With his face raised up towards me and his eyes closed, I swept the brush all over his face and he smiled so big. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror and he was beaming. Beaming at himself! I don't think I've ever seen him look that happy. Moments like these are a good reminder for me of the developmental things that he has missed in his life. The freedom to ask questions and be a curious child. The ability to experience the tickling feeling of a brush on your face without judgement or ridicule. These are the moments that I need to hold dear, these really sweet exchanges. So that when things get rough, when there is defiance, temper tantrums and power struggles I can pull these moments out of the vault of memories and hold on to them. Right now the defiance, temper tantrums and power struggles greatly outweigh the good moments, so today I will hold this one dear to my heart. And allow it to fuel me forward on this journey of adoption.

Adoption From Foster Care- Angels Among Us

Being a part of a family and having siblings means that sometimes you have to do things that you, personally, aren't interested in doing. I remember when I was a child I would have to sit on the sidelines and watch my older sister's gymnastic practice. I wouldn't say that I liked it or enjoyed it but I learned how to entertain myself or play with the other siblings that were there having to wait for their sister or brother as well. And like all families it was reciprocated, my sister had to wait for my dance classes to end and she had to learn the same lesson I learned.

In our family of three boys each child is allowed to pick one activity or class per season in addition to playing an instrument. L has chosen kickboxing and viola, Z has chosen track and field and trumpet and M, who just joined our family from the foster care system, has chosen soccer. Each night and weekend sends us into a rotating schedule of practice and games that would make your head spin.

Last night Z had track practice and L had kickboxing so like most parents, my wife and I divided and conquered. I took Z to track with M tagging along, I brought a few items for him to entertain himself and within minutes of arriving he was sulking and deep sighing and loudly proclaiming that he was "so bored". I've been doing a lot of research on trauma and one thing I have found to be true is that children regress to the age of when they experienced trauma when in destress or upset. M regresses to about the age of a three year old when he has to do something that he doesn't want to do, like sit at his brother's track practice. He pouts and has a full on tantrum. He doesn't understand how you can't make a snack magically appear or after explaining rationally that we have to sit and wait for track practice to be over just like Z and L have to sit and wait for HIS soccer practice to be over, that we can't just leave anyone in our family. I offer several suggestions of things we could do; color, play a game, walk the track etc. He repeatedly shuts them all down and continues to ask, "But why do we have to be here?....Why?... Why?". At this point in his tantrum I have chosen to disengage, which is hard to do when it's a 115 pound nine year old in front of you having said tantrum. But I look out at the track practice and I enjoy watching Z run, I grit my teeth and repeat the Serenity Prayer in my mind.
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things that I can not change. The courage to change the things that I can. The wisdom to know the difference." 

The tantrum continues in front of me, for all the other parents to witness and I honestly don't care. Years ago I would have been mortified, I would have pulled said child aside so that he could have a tantrum without everyone watching. But now, at my age, I just don't care. That is when angels appear next to me, a husband and wife who have witnessed this power struggle who look at me with kind eyes and say, "How can we help you?". They aren't judging, they aren't criticizing they ask the simplest question, "How can we help you?". These are strangers, they don't know that M is a foster child that we are trying to adopt, they don't know our story.

"How can we help you?"

The husband takes M out into the field in front of me to do football drills, when I offered this as a suggestion to entertain him he refused. But now M is smiling, he's sweating and the husband keeps him entertained with drills for a full thirty minutes. The wife and I talk, she listens and nods as I open up and tell her how hard everyday feels. Her eyes are compassionate, and I allow vulnerability to be my guide. I freely walk into this courageous conversation with a stranger and I feel the tightening in my chest begin to loosen as I lean into my feelings of failure and disappointment.

God (the Universe, Divine Spirit, whatever name you give the higher power) sent these angels to share in our journey, together we find a collective courage to speak of our vulnerability and faith. As moms we speak openly with each other, we take off the invisible shields that each of us wears and we choose to let down our guards. It's courageous but it honestly feels fantastic!
Who would have known that strangers on the bleachers would be angels among us.  

Adoption From Foster Care- Empathy Needed!

Thank you all for reading and watching from the sidelines our journey of adopting an older child from foster care. I have posted on social media about how hard it has been, lately. We have experienced many highs and many lows that naturally come with adjustment and transition for everyone in our family.
Adjustment and transitions are hard. For everyone.
And it's okay for me to express that and share it as a part of our adoption journey.
I appreciate the kind words but most days the person with their face down in the dirt in the center of the arena just needs a hug and an acknowledgment that this too shall pass and one day it will feel easier.
The person with their face down in the dirt doesn't need a critic or advice on how they could do it differently instead they need a friend, a listening ear and a safe space to acknowledge what they are feeling.
With your face down in the dirt, in the center of the arena that is the moment of DARING GREATLY. We aren't perfect, we are going to stumble and we will fall a few times but we are trying and it is in that trying that we will see growth.
Again thank you for your kind words! And we appreciate you following along as we navigate this new terrain.

Adoption From Foster Care- Being Called Mom Isn't What I Thought It Would Be

The moment when your sweet baby starts babbling sounds, every parent begins to coach them to say the word that associates with their role in the family; Mama, Dada, Nana, Papa. When each of my biological children became of the age of talking, like most children they uttered the word “Dada” before “Mama”. And at the time, married to their father, I felt a pain of jealousy in my chest. 

With each boy, I rocked them to sleep at hours of the morning that in a previous life (pre-kid) only saw when I was closing down the club or bar. Like all the moms I knew, I nursed each of them until my nipples were literally bleeding. Carrying kids strapped to my chest/back, poised on a hip while arms are dangling $200 worth of groceries and a Thomas the Tank Engine Train under my chin, it wasn’t until years later that my back felt in alignment. And after all of the love and selfless devotion, the thanks we mothers get is the first name to be uttered from our sweet baby’s mouths is “Dada”? I read once that children say Dada first so that the father figure feels connected to the child since often times the mother is the provider of food and undoubtedly spends more time with the baby. Other theories suggest that making the "da" sound is easier for a baby to do. Regardless, it all makes sense in theory. But at the time, in my sleep deprivation, it felt like you might as well pull my heart out of my chest and stomp on it, in the dirt.  

My wife and I are in the process of adopting a child from foster care, M. He’s nine years old and has lived in many foster homes. We’ve read in several books that it may take years before the child calls the adoptive parents “Mom/Dad”. During the five months in which we were visiting him at his prior placement he referred to us by our first names. And as my wife and I would lay in bed holding hands and talking we would wonder “When do you think he’ll call us Mom/Momo? I wonder if it will feel different?”   

I imagined that hearing M call me Mom would feel special, as though we crossed some hurtle or stage in our relationship and attachment. I assumed, given all that we have read on the subject, that it would take a while and he would make a very conscious choice to switch from calling me by my first name to then calling me Mom. But that’s not at all what has happened. Instead right from the start of living in our house he’s made the decision on his own to call us Mom and Momo, the names that our other two boys call us. But it feels different. Because I'm learning that the name “Mom” doesn’t mean the same thing to him that it does for my biological children. My biological children know that I’m their person. That when they need something I will provide for them, that I’ll be the one cheering them on, loving them and caring for them no matter what because that’s what a Mom is. 

To M, it’s different. “Mom” is simply the title of the lead female adult in the house. He tells stories that start with “My other Mom…” and he’s not talking about his biological mother. He’s referring to one of the many, many women that he’s called Mom while being in foster care. And I understand why it has happened, and how him being allowed to call the lead female in every house “Mom” made him feel included especially if there were biological kids in the house as well. 

My brain understands it. 

But my heart, doesn’t. 

Because I want him to say “Hey Mom…” and for it to feel like he knows I’m his person. That he understands “Mom” means forever, not for just right now. That he knows no matter what, being his Mom means that I will care and love him. That we will always be cheering the loudest and no matter what we will always be here for him. I hope that someday, he does understand it. And that we don’t just become his all time favorite Moms and instead that those many women who have cared and fed him in the various homes in which he has lived…..that their names change and they become Molly* and Suzie* and Jennifer*. And that our names as Mom and Momo means something completely different to him…in his heart.

(* these are made up names and not at all the names of the women who have cared for my son while in foster care.)

Adoption from Foster Care- Meeting the Other Family

We are at a park that has a playground and an open field for kids to run around in. The weather is cool, requiring winter jackets and hands to be stuffed in pockets. We stand on the edge of the parking lot waiting. It's just the three of us, my wife and I and our newest son that we are adopting from the foster care system from another state. Our son is wide-eyed and very still. Which is unusual for him. The football is tucked under his arm, he's not throwing it or requesting anyone to catch or "go long". He just stands. It strikes me as unfamiliar that I've never seen him stand completely still like this.

Every time a car enters the parking lot his eyes go to it, scanning the people on the inside.
"Do they know we are here?"
"Yes, I texted them and told them exactly where we are.", I reply making sure my voice sounds soothing and calm as I do during the dharma talk at the end of my yoga classes.
"What time is it?", he asks for the third time.
"I'm sure they will be here soon.", I reply with a smile.

We are meeting two of his biological siblings and their adopted dad for the first time. We are all nervous, my stomach is doing bellyflops. I'm nervous about meeting this family, that in an ideal world we would continue to have a relationship with and I'm also excited for our son to see his siblings who he hasn't seen in months.
A pick up truck pulls into the parking lot.
'That's them!", he shouts.
His eyes seem brighter and a huge smile spreads across his face. He starts to run but my wife grabs his arm and kindly says "Careful, it's a parking lot." Once the truck has pulled into it's spot, he runs towards his brother and they hug so fiercely, tears instantly form in my eyes and I quickly blink them away as I smile and reach for my wife's hand as we walk across the parking lot together.

Seeing the three of them together was amazing. It was as though we had a glimpse of these missing pieces of the puzzle and to see how they interact with each other and play and laugh. My God, did they laugh! The bond that they have is so strong. They are incredible kids. The adoptive father was wonderful and kind. And is also looking forward to keeping the siblings relationship in tact.
I feel blessed. And so grateful.

Whether you believe in God, the Universe, Higher Power, Divine Source, Mother Earth or the Holy Mother herself....something larger than us was involved in this match. That he was chosen to be our son out of the 70+ kids that we inquired about. That the other adopted family would be so wonderful and kind.
I feel blessed.
And oh so grateful.

Adoption from Foster Care- The Map of Our Family

It was just my wife and I picking up our newest son for a day visit to go out to eat for lunch, he is a foster child that we are adopting from another state. We have to wait for the ICPC contract to be finalized in order for him to come and live with us and so in the meantime we drive two hours each way, every week to visit with him for the day.

He decided he wanted to eat at Chipotle, we let him choose since the older boys were with their dad for the weekend which means no one needed to compromise. He's sitting in the backseat of our Element SUV, the Element has these funky doors which requires the front seat passenger to open the door for the person in the back.

As he's getting out of the car he says, "so L and Z were adopted too?"
"Nope, I gave birth to them both.", I reply very matter of factly.
He looks at me with a puzzled expression on his face.
"They both grew in my belly.", I offer.
Even though he's nine years old I don't want to assume that anyone has had the "where do babies come from conversation".
"So you were married to their dad?", he asks.
"Ah, yes I was. And then we got divorced and then I married Momo."
"Didn't some people think it was weird that you married a woman after being married to their dad?", he asks with such innocence on his face.
"I'm sure there were several people who thought that.", I immediately reply as we make our way around the car and into Chipotle. He then looks up at my wife, "so you got divorced too?"
My wife does an amazing job just picking up the conversation without being privy to the first part of it and says, "No. Gretchen is the first person I married."

We walk into Chipotle and he begins to contemplate the decision between tacos or a burrito. He's going back and forth and you can tell that this decision seems huge to him and may impact his whole day by the value he's giving it. He decides on the burrito and his body relaxes as he tells the employee, very confidently, all the things that he wants on it. When we get to the counter to pay he turns to me and says, "I think those people are stupid who thought it was weird for you to marry Momo."
"I agree with you. We don't need those people in our lives, do we?"
"Nope.", he says with a huge smile and a twinkle in his eyes. I give him a hug and I can feel him exhale what feels like a huge weight of stress.

I know that we will have several conversations like this one as he learns the map of our family and the many twists and turns that it has made in order to be created. Divorce, marriages, children- generation after generation a new twist and a new turn. The best part is, he's on the journey with us and now a part of a family.

Adoption from Foster Care- Numbing Emotions with Food

Photo by: Igor Ovsyannykov

2016 has been a rollercoaster of a ride for our family as we embarked on the journey of adoption from the foster care system. We began this journey in January of 2016. First item to cross off our to-do list was the required 27 hours of classes and training, which took place over several Saturdays. Then came the paperwork; background checks- criminal, driving records and financial. Homestudy visits at our house from a social worker interviewing my wife and I together, then separate and then the children each by themselves. Fire inspection of our house from a fire marshall, reference letters and interviews with our friends and finally when all of that was completed we sat down with our adoption agency to talk about marketing ourselves. Yes, that's right...marketing ourselves as awesome parents. Creating fliers with images of our family and what our interests and hobbies are, describing where we live and what services, both therapeutic and recreational, that are close to our house. The idea is to market our family to social workers so that they would read more about us and possibly know of a child on their caseload that would be a perfect match.

When you are going through the paperwork stage of adoption all you can think about is the matching stage. Often I would say to my wife with excitement in my eyes, "I can't wait to get to the matching!" And then when you are in the matching stage you don't think your heart can hold any more hurt and pain that you are hearing on a daily basis. Reading stories of abuse both physical and sexual, neglect because of addiction and poverty and that energy needs to go somewhere. Otherwise it takes up residence in your body in some fashion. Whether that is building a wall around your heart by becoming jaded and cynical or those emotions live as chronic pain in a region of your body for example back or hip pain.

For me I chose to numb those emotions of heartbreak with food. I'm a yoga teacher and life coach, I knew better than to do this. But there I was every night eating cookies, eating my emotions and loosing sight of any physical exercise program except a slow flow, stretchy yoga practice. I was numbing with food and damn did it feel good in the moment. We all deal with hard emotions differently and oftentimes we numb those feelings when we can't take any more in. Food, drugs, alcohol, gambling and even Facebook/social media are the top choices for most people to numb themselves from feeling.

During the matching phase of adoption there are a lot of rejections. We wondered if it was because we are two women but oftentimes it was because we are already parents, which we thought was a benefit for us. But unfortunately so many children in the foster care system have been abused and social workers think it best for them to live in a house without other children. With each rejection the Ben and Jerry's would be cracked open. I am a highly sensitive person and numbing this heartbreak, felt like all I could do. Everyday hearing stories of abuse to innocent children left me in tears on my kitchen floor. I was feeling too much. In order to survive I needed to numb. And food was my numbing escape of choice. 
 
With any bad habit there are consequences and as you might have already guessed weight gain was the consequence that I had to deal with. In 2016 I gained 16 pounds! I am 5'3 and have weighed the same amount since I was in high school (except during pregnancies, of course). These 16 pounds came on easy and tasted delicious but now in 2017 it's time for them to go! My wife and I decided to do a personal challenge, for 45 days we are going to be mindful of the food that we eat. Choosing to eat healthy rather than convenient and we have given up (refined) sugar. Changing our diet as well as exercising 6 days a week will jump start us into 2017.

Week one felt impossible without the sweet treat after lunch and dinner. But now embarking on week two, I'm feeling better. I've already noticed that I have more energy and a positive mindset. The cravings for sweets are still there but rather than giving into that craving with cookies or ice cream I'm allowing myself a small bowl of berries. Doing this with my wife has been momentous! It's easier to resist sweets and exercise when you have a partner being supportive and on the journey with you. Keep tuning in to the CocktailMom blog to learn about the changes we are making to be healthier and happier in 2017!

Adoption from Foster Care- It's the Little Things That Matter Most

It's hard to fall in love with this little boy and yet have no voice in how you'd like him to be parented or be able to make any decisions about his life. I often feel like my hands are tied. And yet I continue to fall in love with his sweet voice and the way he says "what are you doing right now?" when we call him on the phone every night.

We are continuing to visit him twice a week at the residential facility, which involves a two hour drive each way. Per the rules of the facility we have worked up to off-campus visits, each week the visit is allowed to be longer and we can take him off campus with just our family. It's exciting and freeing but it still doesn't feel like our life. We aren't given many options of things to do based on the location of this facility and the colder weather, so it's either go out to eat at a chain restaurant or walk around Target and play videos games. I want him to experience life in our home; walking the dogs, going to the pool, setting the table for dinner. I want him to experience the little moments that make us a family, and I know he wants to experience that too.

This past weekend during our visit we decided that we would run errands because both L and Z needed new shoes and he did as well. So there we are, my wife and I, in the DSW shoe store trying to find shoes for three boys for the first time ever. It felt natural and chaotic at the same time. I found myself noticing other people in the store and how they looked at our family, seeing the confusion on their faces as they tried to figure out how two women and three children (who don't look like each other) "go together" in this very rural part of the state.

But seeing the excitement on his face when he found a pair that fit was priceless and instantly made me forget all the eyes that were watching us. "Look at MY NEW shoes!" He kept saying with a strong emphasis on MY as though this might have been the first time that he ever got new shoes. The thought crossed my mind but then I swept is aside, that couldn't be true. At some point in time someone had to have bought him new shoes, right? We pile back in the minivan and head to Walmart because the zipper on his pants are broken, he's our kid so we are doing what we would normally do for our kids-buy them what they need.

Having no idea what size he wears, I just guess and pull some various sizes for him to try on and fill my arms with pants that I would normally buy for L and Z. Well he has his eyes set on a pair of jeans, L and Z never wear jeans. And I mean never! So I empty my arms and begin looking through the racks of jeans and we all make our way to the dressing room. He is carrying a pair of jeans in his arms, close to his chest and mumbling something about how excited he is about them. He tries on only that one pair of jeans, opens the dressing room door for us to see him in them with a huge smile on his face, "They fit!". Wife and I check to make sure the jeans do in fact fit around his waist, length, are comfortable when he sits down etc. His entire face is beaming, "And they come with a belt! I've never had a belt before!" I look at him, at his huge smile and twinkling brown eyes and my heart breaks for him. He's excited about a belt! A belt, people! I give him a huge hug and tell him that those are clearly the pants for him. His smile turns to a frown and he says, "But we aren't allowed to have belts at the cottage." My wife, in perfect timing says, "We will just keep the belt at our house till you get there, okay?" The smile is back and he's bouncing out the door excited about his new shoes, jeans and the belt that he's never had before. And as I watch my three boys exit the store together I feel a lightness in my heart, this was the reminder that I needed this holiday season.
It's the little things that matter most; it's being a family, being together and being able to wear a belt!

Post 2016 Election

The eleven year old crawled into bed with me this morning and I told him the news of the election. I held him as he sobbed. "How can someone so mean and unkind and who hates us so much (meaning= a gay family) be president? How can people who love us and call us their family....how can they vote for him?" (pause and sniffling) "Why can't we move to Canada?" I explained to him that not one person makes all the decisions in our country. That there is a process. And it's our mission to do the opposite of him, to be kind and good people. "And it also means we need to get involved in things we believe in. We need to volunteer and be of service so that these organizations exist to help more and more families like ours. Our mantra for the next four years is just like the saying on the t-shirts at my yoga studio, Kindness Is Contagious!
We held each other and cried and his questions continued to rattle in my mind. How can people who love us vote for a man who doesn't support our family? How am I going to teach our newest son, who has seen trauma first hand, that the people who say mean things and degrade others is not the "winner." For right now, I'm going to hold them. All three of my sons and tell them that they are safe. We will continue to look up to President Obama as an example of the type of man that we aspire them to become. My wife and I will continue to believe that LOVE and KINDNESS will always win. And we will hold on to hope.

Adoption from Foster Care- The Siblings Meet!

We drove into the residential facility where our new son is living. I say to the boys, "Look out the window, this is it!" Trees line the one lane road for a long stretch that makes you feel as though you are entering a summer camp. There are small cottages that house the children. Outside of each one a bike rack overflowing with child sized bikes, a bike for every child on campus. You can see horses grazing far off in the field, it feels magical here.

Today is the day that L and Z will meet their new brother for the first time. It's a bit weird and every one's veins are pulsing with nervous excitement. We've shown L and Z pictures of what he looks like and briefly what we know about him that is appropriate for the boys to understand. He's coming from foster care and has experienced tremendous trauma but we aren't sharing that with L and Z, or anyone in our family. Children are put into foster care because they have not been cared for (neglect) and often have experienced physical or sexual abuse. The story of our son's past is not for anyone else to know, it's his story. And when he chooses to share it, if ever, with other people is his decision. 

As we got out of the car Z reached for my hand and pulled himself close next to my arm, quietly he says to himself "I'm feeling kinda nervous."I look down at him and smile and say, "Me too bud." I made the very active choice to not diminish how he is feeling by trying to change them. And instead chose honesty and authenticity. I'm working on this more and more in my life. It's so easy to say, "it's going to be okay", "you'll do fine", "no reason to be nervous, he's a great kid and so are you". Growing up, that was often how my emotions were handled in my family I know that it doesn't actually make you feel better and instead the coat of shame begins to be woven over your shoulders. Then you wonder to yourself, "what is wrong with me? I'm the only one feeling this way." But in actuality everyone is feeling the same way, they are just scared to admit it.  

We held hands as we walked and just as I was about to let go, he then squeezed it three times. This is our family's "secret" way of saying "I love you" and we often do it to each other when we think the person needs it the most or when we are around other people and it would be too random if you blurted out "I love you!". I smiled down at him and we walked into the building where in an instant our family dynamic will be changed forever.

Adoption from Foster Care- Patience

Photo by Kelly Sikkema

I’m going to be honest with you, this adoption journey has been hard. It is not for the weak. You need stamina and a layer of patience that you never knew existed before.

We consider ourselves a “catch”, we are a loving couple with great jobs and a strong support system of family and friends. We live in a diverse town with a plethora of resources at our fingertips. We have two incredible children that we share custody of so a child coming into our home has the benefit of siblings but also, depending on the week, will be the only child in the home so he/she will get our undivided attention. It’s the best of both worlds!

We thought that we would get swooped up right away and that the social workers would be ecstatic to place a child in our home. But that hasn’t been the case. Keep in mind that we are only looking to adopt a child that is considered “older”, between 5 and 11 years old. We’ve learned that most states want to keep kids in their home state, for various reasons. The most understandable is that the child has siblings that they need to remain in contact with by having playdates monthly or attending day camps together. We totally understand needing to maintain that connection and openly say in our adoption paperwork that we support maintaining relationships of any kind with birth family. But then sometimes the state just decides that the children should be adopted within the state, without an explanation. There are no siblings to stay in contact with, no birth family members wanting to see the child. From what I can understand there are children who are sitting in foster care and not being adopted by an awesome family that happens to live in another state because the state wants them to be adopted by someone in that state. The kicker is….no one is coming forward. So these kids continue to get bounced around from foster home to foster home. They switch schools more times than I switch out my clothes in my closet. They continue to get older and older. And statistics show that children over ten years old have a 50% less likely chance of being adopted at all. 

My wife thinks that a doctoral student should take this study on for their dissertation, to research how many children continue to stay in foster care and age out of the system rather than be adopted out of state. I think it would be too depressing to know those numbers, to see that truth. There is this underlying concern that we aren’t being picked because we are two women. Only once did a social worker come out and say that, explaining that the child (who has the right to choose based on his age and the state laws) that he did not want two moms. But it made me wonder, did anyone explain to him that he is missing out on an incredible opportunity to have a family that will love him and care for him? Did anyone sit down with him and explain that two moms are pretty much the same as a “traditional family”; we go to PTA meetings and we drive you to soccer practice. That two moms will love you just as much as having a mom and a dad will. 

We will continue to hold on to hope that our child is out there and soon will join our family. In the meantime, keep us in your prayers. And let me borrow that extra layer of patience that you have stored in the back of your closet. 

Adoption from Foster Care- our journey

Well intentioned people who hear that we are adopting an older child from foster care have referred to the kids in foster care as “broken” or “damaged”. Those words don’t sit well within me. These kids are not a broken toy or a damaged shirt from spilled hot sauce on taco night. We aren’t going to “fix this child”. Instead I like to think of our decision to adopt an older child as offering a child a safe place to land. I imagine that their lives feel really unsteady most of the time and I hope a child coming into our home finds a safe place to be themselves, a place where they can let their guard down, a place where they can breathe a little easier because life doesn’t feel so stressful anymore.  

Of course we intend to provide love and understanding. But more importantly we want to offer a child a safe space to heal and grow and the opportunity to become something different. As we read children's extended profiles it seems as though the course of their life is already mapped out for them; the grandparents have a history with Child Protective Services, their parents were foster kids who got pregnant or were incarcerated. And all too often drugs, alcohol and poverty are the underlining themes to each story. It’s a generational problem being passed down. And we are hoping to offer a child an opportunity to change the course of their life. 

I’ve heard my children retell a story that they have heard their father tell of something traumatic that happened to him when he was five years old. When the story comes out of my children’s mouths they make it sound like it happened yesterday when in fact it’s a thirty-five year old story. Immediately I am annoyed that my children can recite the story word for word as I have heard my ex-husband tell it numerous times. I take a deep breath, “That is your father’s story to tell and hold on to for dear life, it isn’t yours. It doesn’t shape you. Stop telling it! It isn’t yours to tell and instead focus your energy on telling your story, tell people your dreams, share a story of kindness that has impacted your life.” 

I went on to explain to them that the things that happen to you in your life shapes your story but it doesn’t define you. People chose to hold on to experiences and expect others to accept it as a definition of who they are or why they act a certain way. But that isn’t the truth. 

The truth is our experiences shape us but they don’t define us.

I haven’t heard either of them tell the story since I stopped them in their tracks that day and said that to them. And I hope that the child coming into our family also learns that the choices that his birth parents made has shaped his life but it doesn’t define who he is going to be in the world. Because greatness is right around the corner. You aren’t broken. You aren’t damaged. You just haven’t been given a safe place to land. A home is waiting for you.