- Can you believe that it’s already the middle of June? This year is really just flying by. Sometimes it’s just dizzying to think that we’ve been home due to the pandemic for about 15 months and counting.
- Hope is in her third week of work. Earlier this week she called in sick; she didn’t seem sick to me. That said, we all need mental health days, right? I also have been chastising myself to remember that Hope has been a slug for going on a year–some days she didn’t get out of bed. So yeah, working a 5 to 7 hour shift is probably beyond exhausting. She’s going to have to build up her endurance.
- I’ve also been really thinking about Hope’s behavior this last year. The pandemic has really been tough on her. Her first year of college was disrupted; she lost her developing friend group. There was a love affair that went super sour. There was a lot of isolation, and honestly, a lot of suffering. It is no wonder that she nearly clings to me like a baby sometimes.
- This last year and a half has been traumatic for all of us, but for some, like Hope, it’s been especially so.
- I do wonder how she will bounce back from this. It’s like she finally was making soooo much personal progress; sure her grades were what I hoped they would be, but she was beginning to thrive in so many other ways. As usual, I have lots of things to fret about in terms of her recovery.
- How much has this time stunted her emergence into young adulthood? Has it made her afraid to step out again?
- Will it further extend what I already thought would be a slightly delayed launch? Home has been even more a a “safe” headquarters for us; hell even I have anxiety going too far from home for too long. With home having an even stronger association with safety, how can I help her get back to stretching her safety bubble?
- The fact that she’s working actually gives me hope for her. I’m hopeful that she will be able to regain her lost confidence and figure out what she wants to do next. It’s really about my commitment and ability to support her and be patient with her.
- In other news, there are 19 days before I head to the beach. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a big bed, working on getting nice and bronzy and spending lots of time with Sister K’s family.
- I’m also looking forward to making a final decision about a bathroom renovation. I think I’ve saved “enough,” though I’m constantly running the numbers. I know that it will be fine, but it’s a huge thing to commit to. It’s just that every time I set up my bath ritual, I start thinking…this is good but it could be so much better IF….Stay tuned.
Tag Archives: african american adoptive parenting
Seeing my sister this weekend was amazing. Seeing the kids was an amazing bonus, and if I haven’t said it recently, you parents of toddlers are the real MVPs. That 4 year old and that almost 2 year old wore me out.
My youngest nephew, the 4yo, is obsessed with working and productivity, so he took me imaginary whaling. Yep, whaling. He gave me a repurposed toy that was a fishing rod (don’t ask how you catch a whale with a fishing rod), another repurposed toy that was the net. There was diving involved and a trip to the imaginary tool shed to get more fishing line. I indulged all the imaginary play that was thrown at me. I was so happy that after 18 months he drifted right back to me as his Auntie.
My niece only knows me through the screen. She let me kiss a boo boo and hold her long enough to get a sweet hug before she screamed for my sister. I’m hopeful that on my July trip she will be more familiar. It really made me think about how much time we’ve all missed spending together. She was 6 months old when I last saw her in person.
My oldest nephew is a sweetheart backed into the gangly body of a 22 year old who won’t cut his hair or clean his room. He asked me a totally innocuous question about a band that I didn’t know; not only didn’t I know what he was talking about, I thought it was something different entirely. Saturday, May 29, 2021 was the day I fell from cool Auntie status. Good thing I’ve got the 4yo to keep me busy.
My middle nephew is 12. And yeah, let’s just say that’s a hard age and leave it there.
My sister and I ordered burgers, watched Dr. Pimple Popper (a truly disgusting, yet satisfying show), and cut the lights at 11pm. It was heaven.
I went to Ikea and bought all new dishes and glasses. Parenting wreaked total havoc on my William Sonoma/Pottery Barn wares. I’ve been operating with a bunch of mismatched dishes and glasses for 6 years now. I’m excited to have my kitchen to look less like a dorm and more like a grown folks place. REAL WINE GLASSES.
Today I paid bills. Baked cupcakes, whipped shea butter, made baked beans, did a face mask. I needed this long weekend for sure.
Oh, Hope is donning that red shirt! She’s already perking up a lot.
It’s been a nice weekend.
- Sometimes staying on schedule is so dang hard. What can I say? Another busy week that had me going until 7pm yesterday and working then driving to my parents’ today. Just busy, busy!
- I’m headed to see my sister and her family tomorrow. She’s been going through a really rough time and even though Hope and I will be going for a longer visit in about 7 weeks, I needed to see my sister sooner than that. Hope had to bail at the last minute because she decided to work. Actually she was faced with a tough decision–go to see her aunt as planned or finish her orientation for her new job this weekend. She chose the latter since she wants on the schedule sooner.
- It would seem, though that Hope thought I would change *my* plans. Um, no. I had always said we were leaving on Thursday so we could see my folks and I was boarding Yappy. I stuck to those plans. I love my dogwalker-boarder, and so does Yappy. Hope will soon have a work schedule and I’ll be heading back into the office soon. Yappy needs socialization with other dogs and to have away time from us since he now gets anxious if Hope leaves. I kept his boarding reservation.
- It nearly made Hope cry. As much as she wants to adult, she is perfectly content to be at home with her family. It’s sweet really and speaks to our attachment, right?
- Ok, real talk– *I’m* the one who wants to go out. I’d like to see Beau more than I currently do. I miss drinks and brunches. I need the panorama to end so I can go outside!!!!! (And no, Hope can’t come and crash my party! I need her to get age appropriate friends and go somewhere.)
- I’m gonna take a minute and say, Yo, this vaxx life is good. I’m still masking up because for the 50-11th time–a bunch of folks JUST learned how to wash their hands and legs in the last year and a half. They nasty, don’t wanna vaxx and yeah..you get the point. I don’t trust everybody who side-eyes those of us who are trying to save ourselves. Aside from that, this is the second time in 2 months that I’ve got to see my parents and hug them with wild abandon. I love it so much. Thank you science.
- There is an upside for me in Hope staying home. I have no one to look after but me for 2.5 days. Do you know how long its been since I’ve had a few days like this? I don’t have to share my hotel room. I control the remote; I choose all the food and if I wan to stop and there is no one to whine, beg, complain.
- Just look at the Holy Homeboy, would ya! Ha!
- I packed face masks, some of my good bath bombs and a couple of my special homemade cookies made with infused butter. I am lowkey excited. I’m excited.
- I need this weekend. It will not fix much, but it will give me a moment to begin to gather my thoughts and figure out my next move on this journey. I would like to start looking at a retirement situation in the Caribbean. I just got asked to contribute to another book. I want to keep writing here, but I want to give some thought about what the next chapter of our story will share; what does Hope want and inviting her to take a more active role. (She is available to answer questions on her page of the blog.) We’ll see what we come up with soon!
- Hope is fully vaxxed! Yay! She got her second vaccine yesterday. I’m so excited that we are protected now. Of course I’m still operating life as though there is a full on plague…because there’s still a full on plague. I’m not down with the lifting of mask mandates. Folks are just nasty.
- The downside is that it seems Hope might be having some nasty side effects this evening. It’s always hard to tell with her though because she is super dramatic when she’s sick. She has a low pain tolerance and just doesn’t do sick well at all. So, after all these years, it’s still really hard for me to gauge if we need to go to the urgent care. I’m hoping she will be better really soon.
- I’m supposed to go into the office for the first time in more than a year tomorrow. I have a meeting in the afternoon. Yes, it could be done by Zoom, and if Hope doesn’t feel better, it may have to be by Zoom. There’s a part of me that it looking forward to it, another part that is wary, but really I’m more anxious about remembering to go into the office at all. I’ve got a nice routine. I get up at 6, walk Yappy and finish my exercise, tidy and shower and get dressed for work. Commuting is walking to the living room. I’m seriously fretting about remembering to go to the office.
- Is it bad that I already am planning a trip to Starbucks when I get into the office? I miss my starbucks run. I also miss my starbucks points. Of course, I now get my cold brew delivered in a box from Amazon every two weeks so…I’ll be fine if I don’t make it.
- I’m tired of working in my living room, but I’m honestly not ready to go back to the office. Outside is just gross.
- Hope finally has orientation for her new job next week. Finally. This is a long onboard for a retail gig. I’m eager to get her out and going and getting back on track to find her way. She is doing much better emotionally, but still not having something meaningful to do every day continues to weigh on her.
- She recently told me that she has no idea what’s next for her. She’s not ready to go back to school. She doesn’t know if she wants to change course–maybe pursue something entirely different. Her interests seem to be changing a bit. She’s a bit lost, and it’s hard. It’s hard as a parent because this part is something she has to figure out on her own. I am here to support her, to cheer for her, to financially help with figuring it out, but the hard work of figuring out what you want to do in this chapter of life is kind of a solitary thing to figure out.
- Somehow I’m finding getting sufficient patio time difficult. That’s especially frustrating since my desk faces the patio. It’s been so gorgeous out. Patio time is one of my favorite parts of spring/summer/fall.
- Still no movement on planning a vacation. I might really just have to put the idea on ice until I no longer sense this emotional block from just dropping a text to the travel agent. I mean, this ain’t hard. I can just tap out a quick message–location, time frame, price point. I might circle back in a month and reevaluate.
- I can’t really think of a 10th thing, so I’m going to sign off and finally go get the cocktail I should’ve had 3 hours ago!
- Mother’s Day was nice and quiet. My sister took me and Hope to brunch on Saturday. I set up my new treadmill. Hope could barely contain her excitement and ended up giving me her gift on Saturday. I was really shocked at what she got me–this wonderfully sleek backpack for traveling. I had seen it on Instagram and commented that it was cool and would be great on my travels. I immediately talked myself out of buying it. Well, Hope bought it for me. It was incredibly thoughtful.
- But it was the short letter she wrote me. In the last couple of years, Hope has taken to writing me letters as a part of the gift. They are the best part of the gift. It was a wonderful salve to my soul after this last year. I’ve worked hard to be a good mom during one of the most traumatic events we’ve gone through together. She thinks I did ok and loves me. For real, I’m good.
- Oh yeah, the treadmill is nice. Super thin, quiet and it makes me happy. I’m back to taking about 5-10 minutes of each work hour to hop on the treadmill. This weekend, I’m rearranging the desk again so that it’s easier to slide it under my desk when I want to stand. I liked it so much that I did talk myself into getting a new Fitbit; the battery life on my old one was fading daily. It was time. Now I got all this sexy fitness technology.
- I’m modestly trying to scale back some of my eating. I’m swapping things out things, a protein shake here, a breakfast sandwich there, 2 cookies instead of a big slice of cake. Hey, the cookies are…special. Made them myself with some freshly infused butter. Fun times.
- I’m starting to count down the days until my trip to the beach to see family. I miss my niece and nephews loads; it’s been hard connecting with my niece. She’ll be two in a couple of weeks and I’ve only seen her in person twice in her whole little life. She recognizes me on video, but I’m anxious to see will she recognize me in person.
- Even though I’m ready to take that trip, I apparently am not ready to take a real vacation. I thought I had very well decided to move forward with booking a trip for me and Hope to the Caribbean. I want to go to the DR, and I’m also interested in starting to look properties. I want a small cottage on the beach as a part-time retirement home. I gave it a lot of thought and concluded that I was ready. Somehow though, I have not reached out to my travel agent. I lost a ton of money tied up in booked vacations last year, so I’m over planning things myself moving forward. I need someone else to fight those battles. Anyway, several weeks have passed and this week I had to face the fact that while it’s easy to say it’s not intentional–I get excited about booking trips, discussing options, looking at AirBnBs; booking airport transfers. For me not to have any effort to get started planning is making me do some reflecting.
- I’m realizing I’m not ready for outside to open yet. As much as I miss people, home really has become this uber safe place. Outside is still gross and germy and I’m not sure how much of that I’m willing to absorb yet. I’ve told my boss I have zero interest in traveling until 2022. I just feel like I’m not willing to take that risk for work. I might be willing to take the risk for my own enjoyment, but not for work yet. I intend to wear a mask indefinitely. I still have a healthy stash of hand sanitizer. I don’t think I”m planning because I’m just not ready, even if I really want to be.
- Hope got a job at Target. I anticipate that she will start in a week or two. I know that this will be a really good thing for her, and for me.
- Low key, I’m starting to looking at a 2nd car. I”m not in a rush; I’ve told Hope some of the things I need to see out of her before I am ready to make a purchase. One of those things is a down payment and insurance saved up. We’ll see!
- I spent a chunk of time thinking about Hope’s biological mom on Mother’s Day. It’s not new, but this year I just wished she had been here for Hope. I think the last year, Hope would have really benefited from that connection. I actually think of her often and how proud she should be of her daughter. I hope one day they will find one another on their own terms.
Remember back when we were wee ones job hunting and when we got a call back we immediately started planning the next six months because, you know, you have to work. But then, suddenly, you don’t get said job and somehow windows on other opportunities closed while you were planning.
Well, Hope is going through this phase right now. She finally got a call from a store that she’s been rejected at multiple times. She is already planning her future well in advance of having even gotten through the interview. Meanwhile, just yesterday, I was reminding her that she needed to follow up with the local community college to find out why she can’t register. I am requiring she take one class–whatever topic she wanted–this summer to get her feet wet for eventually going back to school.
When I reminded her today, she wouldn’t have time since she was going to be working.
Working? Girl, where? You haven’t got the job yet. Until she has been hired, done her paperwork and literally walked out of the house for her first shift, I needed her to follow up with the community college. She went into blank stare mode. It’s one of those looks that I’m convinced is quickly smoothed onto the face to avoid rolling one’s eyes, which obviously would not be good.
I know my daughter can be overwhelmed by decisions and choices, but I need to guard against her “bird in the hand” until she *actually* has a bird in the hand. I want her to be able to think both/and sometimes. Holding space for more than a couple of things at a time can be hard, but when they drop or someone takes them–it’s bad.
If this job doesn’t pan out, I want her to have kept an option open for Basket weaving 101, otherwise she will be bummed about missing out on both. Summer classes start in a couple of weeks.
And this is the big stuff. I gently sent her a message reminding her to be strategic in telling employers her availability. Rescheduling her essential medical appointments is hard. We have times with longstanding appointments that are locked in–the possibility of moving them is nearly impossible.
Every development that comes Hope’s way, I realize there is so much to learn. She is smart, but naive in that I-know- everything-and-more-than-you-OMG-Mommy-help-me kinda way. I don’t remember so many little odds and ends. A lot of things you just literally have to DO, and hope you did it right. For someone as anxious as Hope, that must be hard. I’m realizing that the true external manifestations of my anxiety didn’t happen well into adulthood. I remember feeling like, “I can’t believe I”m really doing this!” I don’t remember being hopelessly, paralyzingly overwhelmed by life at that age.
Hope is not me, so I’m trying to be firm and loving as I try to hold her accountable through the job hunt/return to school episode. I know it will be ok, but it all just makes me pause and reflect on just how I approached similar challenges to what Hope is currently experiencing. I know she will get there; she just there right now.
I needed her to practice these skills this lap around the mountain. Wish us both luck.
I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. As mom to Hope, my mental health has definitely wavered in ways I didn’t anticipate; I don’t mean that to sound bad, but parenting is hella hard.
I’ve learned a lot about myself and my mental health and emotional wellbeing during these years as well. I’ve been consciously working on being better and stronger and figuring myself out. At 48, I’m still working on that.
Hope will be 20 in about two months, and I don’t expect her to be where I am. I don’t expect her to be as self-reflective or as clear about life. But as we head into a year and a half at home and almost a year since the down-slide started; I find myself wanting Hope to take more ownership of her recovery.
I know she wants to get better, but there’s really not a lot of activity behind it. I know it’s got to be hard cooped up here, without school, friends, or a job. We are now past the stage of devastating depression that left me terrified; she’s improving. I’m relieved. But that’s it.
I’m still shouldering Hope’s recovery; I”m not sure if she’ll ever take the lead. At the smallest suggestion of *doing* anything, a litany of excuses come tumbling forth, sometimes before I can even complete my sentence. I hate that and really never respond well. Just this evening I had to take a deep breath, remain calm, go deep into the communication skills tool box and explain how it makes me feel when she makes excuses.
There are times when I really wonder when and how long Hope will need my intense involvement in her mental health care. I know that my feelings about it are colored by my own journey, how my intense need for achievement as a proxy for worthiness is so different than Hope’s. I know that comparing our journeys is stupid, a fools’ errand, and yet there are quiet moments where I ramble off how I took on getting myself help almost as soon as I entered college and how I’m still managing appointment schedules for a young adult who is literally doing nothing all day but surfing YouTube and TikTok.
And then I feel guilty about even remotely comparing us, and then I start the crazy thought process all over again. It’s so ridiculous.
But I do wonder…does Hope want to own her life in a way that looks…kind of normal? I don’t know if she’s healthy enough to really consider it. I don’t know if her trauma’s of the last year, that involved some really bad adult flexes, have just made her regress in ways that push off adulting for a long time. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t either.
I’m trying to be patient; I’m trying to follow her lead 70% of the time and push/pull her 30% of the time. Once I post this, I’ll be sending her places to apply for a job. I know that getting out and working will help her. I aspire to bickering over the car and finally deciding to buy a second car because her life will have grown to such a need. But that’s probably a long way off.
For now, I am shouldering and powering the return to the fragile health status we had before. It’s rough when you desperately want to return to a more normal version of not normal, but here we are.
Last night the man in my life asked me if adopting Hope satisfied my need to have a biological child.
It was a heavy question for any number of reasons.
- I will forever be wounded by my infertility.
- My beau is an adoptee. He shared this with me recently after dating for quite some time. Turned out to be game-changing information for us, and I’d like to thank adoptees for teaching me to act like I got some sense.
- Beau is childless.
I was honest, and I said no. It satisfied my desire to be a mom, which was ultimately a stronger pull, and Hope is absolutely my daughter. But did it “replace” my desire for a biological child? No.
I thought so much about this over the last 8 years.
My grief around infertility has changed a lot over the years. Initially it was really messy, as all grief is. I did grieve the imaginary scenario that I’d been cultivating since I was in high school. I would be married in my early 30s to an amazing partner with whom I would have a couple biological children and then look into expanding our family through adoption.
That was my script.
So as I slid into my late 30s, unmarried and suddenly considered infertile, I really grieved the loss of that ideal I had constructed for myself. I remember feeling like it was the last bit of my dream that I lost. Never-mind that my career was going great, I was working on my doctorate, and I was enjoying a really good life. The door definitively closed on my dream, and that was what my grief was about. And sometimes it still hurts acknowledging that, but that’s not where my grief lies now.
I told Beau that my grief has less to do with any imaginary biological child and more to do with how betrayed I felt and feel by my body. We’re conditioned to believe so much of being a woman is about the ability to incubate a new human and have all these warm, nurturing, maternal feelings. Well, not being able to have a child because my body “failed” was and remains hard. I’m like, I’ve always been overweight, but my entire adult life I’ve tried to eat decent and be as active as possible so that I would be able to handle pregnancy like a champ. Instead my body wasn’t even riding the bench. It just sucked when I needed and wanted it most.
My grief wasn’t about having a baby. I was never all jazzed about babies. I just wanted the chance to be a mom. Ultimately it didn’t matter how; it was just that my body was supposed to be able to do this thing that women do. And, well, it couldn’t.
Hope satisfied my desire to parent; that part is the same as what I desired in having a biological child. But in answer to Beau’s question, no it didn’t satisfy my desire to give birth because it was about my body and not the child.
He seemed to understand. I reminded him that grief is a wicked thing. He agreed.
Then I told him about how in 2020 I worked hard to focus on what my body can do rather than what it can’t. While I didn’t commit to doing it because of grief, the reframing definitely helped me resolve some of my grief. Of course the fact that I did get to be mom to Hope is really the story here. I am a mom, which is really what I wanted. I am fortunate to have matched with Hope and be accepted by her. There are times when I really marvel at the fact that I have a version of the family I dreamed about. It didn’t happen as I thought, and the life partner is still missing in action, but I have this family–me, Hope and Yappy.
It’s more than enough.
- Another Wednesday; anyone else feeling like they are just coming really fast? This is the 12th week of the year, according to Google Assist, and it’s only the 83rd day. I feel like I’ve had too much “life experience” for 2021 already and I’d like to just skip the next part.
- I made this week’s cake with cannabis infused butter, and let me tell you…the best sleep!!! I wake up refreshed and really rested. Will go back to regular cake tomorrow, but I expect I’ll be making another one of these soon enough. It was gentle magic.
- I had my annual physical today. Healthy! The only “dings” is continued loss of the lower hearing registers and my incredibly stubborn vitamin D deficiency. It’s like no matter what I do I can’t get it to get to and stay in a normal range. When doc heard about these last three months, he kept asking if I’d like to try an increase in one of my anti-depressants. I told him I’d like to think about it. Like do I need it? Will it make any of this easier? I just feel like I need to name how I feel vs. how I want to feel vs. what’s chemically possible. I’m not into unnecessary suffering, and there was a time when I would have happily accepted the new dose, but I really need to check in with myself first, I guess.
- Hope is the same; which is good in that at least things aren’t worse. With improving weather I’m keen on getting her outside a bit. I have a very small window to do that in before the bugs hit in late spring. Getting Hope out of her bed and into the shower regularly is the daily goal; look at me with BHAG goals trying to get her out of the house. She is eating a little more now that I’ve given up on balanced eating and leaned into just getting calories into her. My gawd, I’m buying vienna sausages and pop-can biscuits. Last week we had breakfast sandwiches for dinner because she gobbled them right up. I just buy whatever I can get her to eat, and I cook often to create additional choices.
- I’m starting to think about the fall, and what it holds for me and Hope. Will she go back to her college? Will she be able and ready to? Will I be ready to begin traveling for work again? If Hope does go back to college, how will my life change again? I’ve got just under 2 years until I turn 50; how do I want to end this chapter? I’m really starting to think about all this. It’s like my 2021 pt 2 vision board is coming into view. I do really wonder what will become of my sweet daughter? Will she begin to find her way again? Will she feel strong enough to make decisions again? Will she be able to go back to doing dumbass college shit? I mean, after this last year, and especially 8 months or so, I am almost mad at my naive self and how irritated I was when I stumbled upon Hope’s stash. I wish we could just go back to that. Knowing what I know now, I would have just taken that stash, made brownies and gone on about my business. Yeah, I just want her to be doing dumb college ish again…at college.
- I have not been spending as much time on social media lately, but I have noted all kinds of drama rumblings about transracial adoption and the recent tragedy of hate crimes committed against Asian Americans. Asian TR adoptees have been sharing their stories of struggling culturally and identity-wise having been raised with no cultural connection, being raised to be grateful for being adopted, and being considered the “not like the other Asians.” White APs who do believe in this stuff come out of the woodwork to troll adoptees. Whew what a mess! I was telling Hope about it, to which she replied that White folks and APs need to talk less and listen more. She’s not wrong.
- Work is…ugh. This just continues to be a tough go of it. Maybe a med adjustment would give me better coping skills for work. Today somehow I’ve got swept up in some drama over a private company. Owner and I have chatted about diversity; this week it’s been like he thinks I’m his personal diversity guide. Anyway, tomorrow I have to intervene and guide a major course correct that ain’t even my job. I literally have to Olivia Pope this thing; why you ask? White supremacy + patriarchy = some bullshit every day and 5x on Sunday. I’m already over it.
- I get my second vaccine this Saturday. #joy I got Hope on the state registry this week; hopefully she won’t have to wait too long. I will see my parents in less than 2 weeks.
- I’m off next week. I think I’m going to get us a hotel room. In fact, I need to look into that right now. A room with a view, good cable channels and a mean room service menu. I just want someone else to take care of things for a couple of days.
- I’m heading into a recipe rut. I’ve got tons of recipes, but I think I’ll be trolling for something new soon. I need to revive my kitchen creativity. I’ve been slowly building the pantry back up with things for different recipes. I really just need to get into the kitchen and put in some work. I occasionally invite Hope to cook with me, but it stresses both of us out. I tend to use recipes as a guide; I love improvising. Hope hates this and freaks if she misses any step of the recipe. We are cooking opposites. In any case, maybe that’s what I’ll get her to research this week–new recipes.
- Happy St. Patrick’s Day. I wore my green glasses today.
- Things are…all over the place. I almost hate it when someone asks, “How are you?” Like, there’s a pandemic, I’m an extrovert trapped at home; my daughter is struggling and I don’t know exactly what I can do to make it better, work is emotionally draining 99.9999999995% of the time and my own mental health always seems precarious.
- So, I”m doing fine.
- Except, that’s not really true.
- I am fighting the good fight though. With daylight savings I can get more outside time and I’m delighted by that. I’ve taken Yappy on an evening walk every day this week. The increased sunlight and exercise is always great for my mood. I’ve started sleeping with my weighted blanket again. Sometimes that added weight, pressure just is so soothing.
- I’m really struggling with parenting right now. We have a good medical team. We’re really trying to give Hope autonomy with her care as a young adult. I’m trying to give her structure, but it’s really a lot with everything that’s going on. The issues are just like whackamole; we get one thing under control and something else pops up. Depression is getting better, but now the anxiety is debilitating. I can only imagine what it must be like for Hope. Not being able to find a “fix” is killing me. I really feel helpless and super frustrated. I don’t see this ending anytime soon.
- At the end of every day I’m exhausted. I would probably allow myself to get in my bed at 7:30pm if it didn’t sound SOOO early. Sometimes I do it anyway, but days like today…I’m trying to wait until at least 8pm.
- In other news Yappy is now using steps to get on and off of my bed; I’m so proud of him. A few months I noticed he was starting to have to work harder to get up on my bed; it’s a big jump. I bought some doggie steps, tried a couple of times to train him to use them. He looked at me like I was stupid. I shrugged and just left the steps there. After a month he started randomly using the steps, just like that–no prompting, no treats, nothing. He just started using them. Now he uses them consistently unless he’s feeling frisky and wants to hop up. If only everything was that easy.
- I am supposed to get my second vaccine next week. I’m now able to really count down the days until I can see my parents, who will be getting their second shot tomorrow. Just knowing I will be able to hug them in a matter of weeks nearly brings me to tears.
- I still wish I was motivated to write more, especially about parenting and older child adoption. Sometimes I get so frustrated because so much of the adoption conversation is dominated by infant, international and transracial adoption. I really wish more folks were writing about families like me and Hope. There are absolutely threads that are similar, but there are narratives that are different–not better or worse, just different. I often find myself trying to decide if I want to weigh in on posts even though I know the conversation isn’t about older child adoption and I want to hear about those stories and from those adoptees. I’m realizing that I might need to reconstruct my adoption squad. Our challenges never really go away, but I don’t necessarily seek the same kind of engagement and help that I used to seek. This young adult thing is different, and while in some ways it’s hard to remember what life felt like before Hope, it’s only been 7 years. It’s crazy. I just wish there were more folks talking and sharing about this kind of journey. Sometimes it’s lonely out here.