Tag Archives: Family

January 16, 2024

Happy New Year, Kinda

Has it really been that long?

I really meant to write, but my professional world got pretty crazy after my last post.

The Middle East war started, I was trying to hire a new staff person and there countless other mini dramas to contend with. All of that stressed me out more than I realized. More on that in a minute.

Hope continues to grow. While there are a number of things I wish she would make different choices about, I’m realizing those things will happen. The girl has got good values and cares about humanity. She’s a good person, which should always be the goal, right?

I did that.

And I know these other things I hope for her will come in time.

She’s working, paying her bills and embracing the balance of independence and reliance she has with me. I feel like we turned another corner.

I cook more these days to try to help her out. She loves to eat out and order food. I was falling back into cooking for myself after all these years. Paying bills and ordering food don’t necessarily go together long term. And I want some yummy but healthier options available.

Side note: she ate the breakfast hot pockets I made this weekend after saying she probably wouldn’t eat them a few days ago. I figured she would.

Anyhoo, she’s doing really well. It’s not going the way I planned it hoped, but do have a front row seat to watch.

As for me, I’ve been sick for a month. 🙄

I took off several weeks during the holidays to rest and refresh. Instead, I battled shingles in my face, eye and inner ear. Painful, scarring, and I also had a bit of facial palsy.

Ahhh, seems so quaint. On New Year’s I venture out of the house for our NYE dinner with a bit of foundation on my scars and pain meds for my ear. I would be out for another week to get my energy level up. Except somehow I had a fever again and the pain was back, so then I worked from home last week while I tried not to Google shingles complications

After a particularly bad night last week with much discomfort and little sleep I convinced myself that I had developed an encephalopathy associated with shingles because I felt like stepped on cow patties.

My PC was like, “It’s not a tumor.”

Instead, it was probably just a little viral bug, a cold, since my immune system just took a tumble.

Me: Cool, but I legit rarely leave the house. How did I catch a cold??

So, yeah that was last Thursday. I currently have an ear infection and pink eye. Oh and my sore throat is back but it’s a different kind of sore than it was this weekend.

Misery, thy name is ABM. A comedy of illness. At this rate I might still be on the sick and shut in list for my birthday. Not cool, universe, not cool at all.

I’m probably going to have to take another chunk of time off to properly recover. I know I’m replaceable, but I love my job and the people I work with. And I know that I’ll struggle all year if I don’t just take the necessary time now. I hate making these kinds of decisions. It’s not even a decision really. I also know that the only thing I can control at the moment is taking time to rest.

So yeah. All of that.

I told Hope that she’d better keep it together cause my breakdown will be completely unavoidable if she cuts up right now. 😂🙄

So we’re here. We’re good, well ok. Hope is good and I’m working on it.

Happy New Year peeps.

1 Comment | tags: Adoptees, adoption, Adoption and Parenting, Adoptive Families, African American Older Child Adoption, African American Parenting, Black Adoption, Black Parenting, Family, New Year, Older Child Adoption | posted in adoption, Adoptive Black Mom, adoptive parents, Black Adoption, Black Adoptive Mom, Finalization Life, Hard Stuff, Lessons Learned, Parenting

October 2, 2023

Bright Skies

By AdoptiveBlackMom

So, as usual it’s been busy, busy, busy.

So what’s going on with ABM?

I have taken every Friday I’m not traveling off thru the end of the year. It feels good, productive and restful. I will need to pull some long days to catch up/keep up, but it’s worth it. It is a gift. That’s led to more social plans and enjoying the end of summer. I even got to a beach! I dated. I went to concerts and rodeos. I got creative time for my Etsy store. #BarkleysPetCloset

I’m going to spend a month abroad next year, trying on a retirement fantasy with Yappy in tow. It’s a big undertaking, I want to just get a taste, see if my instincts are right. I just want to live more. I’m really serious about whether i want to work beyond another 5 years. I want to be free.

And I need folks to understand I mean that in my soul.

I’m feeling like I am on the tipping point of something else entirely, something that centers my creative brain, which has felt constrained in recent years. Yeah.

I just want to be free.

Yappy gets his own update because he turns 9 tomorrow, and I love him so much. I’m guessing my therapist would say we have a codependent relationship, and she would probably not be wrong. He has really taken to trying to express himself using his buttons. I recently duplicated a subset of his buttons in my bedroom. He’s not using them himself yet, but they immediately get his attention.

Well Yappy has taken to non-stop begging for treats. I might just turn that button off. He bosses me about going to bed despite the fact that he could just ask for cuddles which is what he really wants. And this precious pup who rarely barked seems to think I understand Bark. I do not.

We finally identified the perfect bed for this senior dog. He now has 3 of them. He also had stairs in every room—and this is how picky he is: I avoided the foam stairs due to cost. Bought the first set. He refused to use them. Sent them back. Ordered a different set. Sent them back. Bought a set off FB Marketplace. I swear he cursed me. I finally ordered the foam stairs, and he proceeded to use them un-coaxed.

Let’s say, Yappy is living well.

And then there’s Hope.

After my own frustration and breakdown around how Hope reacted to my insistence that she propel forward. I’m glad I gave us two weeks until the follow up meeting that I scheduled. We needed that time to cool off and refocus. When we met, we were on the same page, we stayed focused and we had homework.

It was the most productive time I’ve had with Hope in forever. And last week’s meeting was half the time, as we ticked off what was accomplished, what a financial capacity goal to work toward might be, and set a to do list. It was so good.

Last week she texted me through a financial decision she was making. I didn’t offer any help, just listened/read. As she got close to the end, I let her know how proud I was of her. Her decision making was well reasoned and defensible. But a year ago when the angry darkness hung over our home like an Edgar Allen Poe piece. I told her that I would have let her lose everything a year ago,

We were barely hanging on.

And to see her now,,.? I’m so proud of her. Ridiculously so.

And beyond that we don’t see a lot of each other. We work at overlapping schedules. Time together is fun and genuine. I’m grateful for that.

So, we good over, round here. 😊

3 Comments | tags: #mentalhealth, ADHD, Adoption and Resiliency, adulting, Family | posted in Finalization Life

January 23, 2023

Ten Years

By AdoptiveBlackMom

Yesterday, Hope and I observed the 10th anniversary of her moving in and me taking custody.

I knew the day was coming, but I wasn’t intentionally keeping up with it. And then, last night a fleeting thought crossed my mind…

“Wait, is today the day? We probably missed it.”

::Looks at calendar::

Oh damn, today is the day.

So, I sent Hope a text.

It is pretty crazy. In many ways it flew by, I flipped thru her graduation pictures recently. And then there’s evidence of the struggles, each one feeling like it was its own eternal path.

I see the nearly totally gray head of hair. The few new moles on my cheeks. The meds and supplements I take now that I didn’t take then (I’m looking at you, raggedy arse Estrogen that I can’t seem to live without about 15 days or of month, but I digress).

Hope is a legal adult now. She’s so different than the little kid who sat on my cousin’s floor on Thanksgiving and looked the sole of her own foot for an hour desperately willing our attention. What I didn’t know then, but I know now is that When Hope didn’t get enough attention she will have us at the urgent care within 24-36 hours. After a couple of years of unnecessarily dramatic ER trips, I have to try really hard not to be skeptical when she says she’s not feeling well. I know my kid, I swear I’ve experienced so much that I struggle with empathy desensitization. Not proud of it.

Hope is a early twenty something with tats and a nose piercing, a huge head of natural hair, who loves her body, is trying to figure this next chapter out, wanting so much more freedom and never admitting that she knows she’s not ready for it but all her peers are doing all the things.

And our 9th year…

Our 9th year was as difficult as the first 2 years. Now that I think of it, they were mirrors. How the problems manifested differently, but the core issue? Trust and attachment? Yeah.

I’ve been meaning to create a new vision board for the year. The years that I have done them, consistently the things came to pass within 2.5 years. The last one I created was in 2020 before the pandemic. And despite the pandemic, much of it has come to fruition in its own way. But during these 3 years I’ve also experienced some dark emotional stuff that’s made me so different from the person I was 3 years ago. So it’s something I need to do to recapture my bearings. I’ve felt rudderless for some months now.

Some of that is because I’ve been really working hard to process these years. Some of my absolute worst fears came true, just one devastating trauma after another. Every damn year. I’d think, Aye, it’s been two months and we might have leveled out. But, no.

So I’m hitting it hard in therapy these days and wrestling with that stuff hasn’t gotten to the much better phase quite yet. It’s better, much ‘much’ is a stretch.

I’m also seriously considering what it would be like if I did the work I do with some other group or freelance. What would it be like to drive hard for 3-5 years and walk away. I legit feel a deficit in my lifespan after last year especially. I’m feeling like a stretched too far hair tie when the elastic is clearly broken but we just pretend that it still works perfectly.

Yeah, like that.

So I’m trying to figure out financially what’s possible and then after a year or so of nothingness but granting my within-budget heart’s desire, what then? What will make me happy and fulfilled. What level of financial freedom will I have? What’s next?

And how does Hope figure into the plan? Will she be able to create a fully independent life? What other things can I do now to help her scaffold and construct her adult life

So there’s quietly a lot going on over here. Hope is doing well, getting a job really helps emotionally. And I’m just figuring out just what I went thru last year and how do I recover and regain my confidence. It’s easy to say I wouldn’t do xx again when you couldn’t think of anything better so…?

So anyway, I’m ok. We’re ok. We survived together.

1 Comment | tags: #mentalhealth, adoptee, adoption, adoption and anxiety, Adoption and Depression, Adoption and Emotions, African American Adoption, african american families, Depression, Family | posted in Finalization Life, The College Years

October 29, 2022

Better

By AdoptiveBlackMom

I was a mess in my last post, but I was also honest. I hit a bottom; I’m not sure yet if it was the bottom. I was in trouble.

My primary care doc wrote me a new script and gave me good parenting advice, good medical advice regarding Hope and some great suggestions for getting through this period. He has been my PC for pretty much my whole adult life. He knows me and I trust him.

I bought tickets to go to a play. I invited a friend to go, but she got sick. I took a chance and invited Hope. She said yes and we had a great time. It was a vibe. You really don’t understand…I internally bought last minute tickets and invited a guest, all so I wouldn’t be alone with my thoughts. They’ve been dark. And I was afraid. So to end up going with my daughter and having an amazing night… It saved me.

It also gave me courage to send my Hope an email saying some things I really needed to say to her. I don’t trust us to attempt an in-person discussion. If we had another incident like the one we had this summer, I might need to check myself in somewhere for a short term stay. In any case, I was able to say things that I needed to say in a way that I thought she might understand.

She never acknowledged receiving it, but she’s been more engaging and reasonable since I sent it. I had work travel for the last 4 days, and while she had stopped saying she loves me, she’s back to calling me mom. I got in tonight, and I was treated to her just needing to vent about a problem. It was a treat indeed; when it ended in the sweetest hug and an apology for bending my ear. I legit would have stood there all night.

Things are better. I’m so gunshy; I don’t want to be too optimistic. I’ve racked up a lot off my own trauma this year especially parenting related trauma. But I’m hopeful we will forge a relationship with mutual respect and connectuon. I am hopeful we grow out of all of this

4 Comments | tags: adoptee, African American Adoption, african american adoptive families, african american adoptive parenting, Depression, Family | posted in Adoptive Black Mom, adoptive parents, Black Adoption, Black Adoptive Mom, college student, Finalization Life, Hard Stuff, Other Stuff, Parenting, Trauma

October 8, 2022

Recovering

By AdoptiveBlackMom

I’m currently in the Islands boozing with wild abandon…and then falling asleep on the beach.
I’m grateful to my mom friend who reminded me that I suggested we take a trip for some R&R about 2 months ago. I needed this. The pandemic has thrown off my vacation schedule, which has historically been March, July for family visits, and October.

For the past two years of pandemic travel, I’ve only ventured to Mexico and the Caribbean. I think I’m ready to resume wider travel in 2023.
But given the traumas of the summer I needed this reset.

Parenting has been a relative challenge. This chapter of ushering Hope into young adulthood has weathered me, and that’s saying something because the previous 2 years have also been doozies. I just want to get to some sense of normalcy again.

In good news, Hope has finally emotionally regulated a lot in the last month or so. She’s also coming to a place where she might be willing to seek counseling and meds—cross your fingers and say prayers folks. We *might* be on the verge of of a breakthru! She still hasn’t expressed any interest in renegotiating terms for moving out or staying at the end of the year. Pride cometh before the fall.

Yeah, yeah, I’ll be here to catch her.

I worry about her a lot. More than I thought was possible sometimes. I want so much for her, and I know she feels betrayed by my decision that she will need to move out. I’m realizing as we come closer to the deadline that not only is she not ready—she’s not even close. She got a job with Shipt some time ago, but never actually did any shopping or deliveries. When I asked her about it, she said she had so many questions about grocery shopping that she was just overwhelmed.

Yeah, it’s been rare that she’s joined me to do the household shopping. An occasional trip to Costco or Walmart does not give you the life skills to buy other people groceries—even with their list. She’s never made a delivery.

In any case, I know that the realization of adulting is starting to sink in, and it’s not pretty. Hell, I hate adulting myself. Bills, work, responsibilities! It’s a lot!

The last month also found me spiraling from a breakup I didn’t see coming at all. I’m devastated. I’m past the crying—which I didn’t do much of, but the questions, the rationale, the sadness…yeah, I’m still in the thick of it.

And then there’s work…whew. DEI work in the last, what 7ish years, has been brutal. Since that buffoon announced he was running for office, my work has required so much more of me. And bless your hearts White folks…seriously, if you ever considered yourself an ally to any marginalized groups, please go get your people together. I’ve got 10 more years of work before I can retire comfortably and deaing with White folk foolishness is just…whew…never-ending. I love my work, but real talk, I can honestly say I haven’t *liked* it in over 5 years. Working against oppression is effing exhausting.

So, beach time has been a nice balm to my latest emotional upheavals.

I head back to reality in a couple of days. Somehow, I’ve got a presentation due. Two dog sweaters (because somewhere along the way I had the brilliant idea to open an Etsy shop in honor of Yappy), a new order just came in and a zillion other projects that seemed like a good idea, but are now just feeling like time sucks.
I’ll also be calling the doc for a referral to a medication check in and also stepping up my exercise. The stress has done a number on my body and I need to get that under control as well. No joy in retiring early if I’m hobbling around.

I’m also going to start looking at dates to see if I can swing working remotely from the Caribbean for a month or two in 2023. I want to get a taste of my retirement fantasy and also explore some properties. I want to switch up my lifestyle a bit, and it just sounds like a radical thing to just pick up and move for a month and try it out. Just gotta figure out how to bring Yappy!

Anyway, back to the sunbathing.

2 Comments | tags: #mentalhealth, #TreatYoSelf, adoption, African America Adoption, african american adoptive parenting, african american families, Black Adoption, Depression, Family, Self-care | posted in adoption, Adoptive Black Mom, adoptive parents, Black Adoption, Black Adoptive Mom, college student, Coping, Finalization Life, Hard Stuff, Other Stuff, Parenting, Self Care, The College Years

March 8, 2021

The Fire

By AdoptiveBlackMom

So, this weekend a condo down the hall from ours caught fire.

Yappy and I were sitting on the couch; we’d already been on our morning walk. I was thinking about groceries and planning a nap. I got my first vaccine on Friday, and the only side effect I had was fatigue.

Saturday mornings are notorious for smoke alarms going off around the building. The toaster burnt some toast. Someone’s bacon is extra crispy. Someone’s kid somehow got syrup on the bottom of the oven. I typically tune them out, unless they are accompanied by the building fire bell.

So when I heard a neighbor’s smoke alarm go off, I thought “Oh breakfast is starting.” Yappy had already gone and sat by the door as the alarm was going off.

Then the big bell started.

I cracked open the door, and the hall was full of smoke.

I quickly closed the door, got Yappy on his leash, woke Hope up and rushed her to get dressed and down 8 flights of steps we went. We sat in the car for a little while and watched as fire and EMS showed up. One of my best friends lives in the building next door, so my little family was able to shelter there and watch from the window.

My mind raced.

Would the fire spread? Would the fire door save our place? Ugh, there’s going to be smoke damage. Please Holy Homeboy keep that fire contained. Oh shit the elevators will prob be out for a while. I’m glad I have my purse; I can get us a place to stay. I can get us some clothes. OMG, do I call my parents? I’ll text them. My coat smells like smoke. Yappy’s coat smells like smoke. How bad will the smoke damage be if we smell like this when there’s only about 4 ft between our front door and the fire escape we went down? I need to get on the Target App and put an air purifier in my cart for pick up later. I need to do it now before my neighbors buy them all. Dammit, we could lose pictures and papers. The papers are in a fire box…on the 8th mfing floor. Why did I buy a condo again? WTF was dude cooking?

And on and on. My friend put on a movie while Yappy cuddled up with me and Hope watched the drama from the window. I kept asking if she was ok, and she kept saying she was. I was worried, but she seemed genuinely ok.

The reality was that while the fire gutted that condo and a few others sustained major damage, we just have a funky smoke smell. I left the patio doors open for a few hours and hit everything with the heavy duty Frebreeze and things seem ok. The housekeepers come tomorrow and I suspect that everything will seem just a little brighter once they rid of us the fine layer of smoke/ash that I’m sure is coating everything.

It was scary though, and I found myself thinking about all kinds of things all at once and what I was going to do to take care of Hope and Yappy.

Hope says she was really fine and that she knew that somehow we would be ok. I’m glad that she trusts me so deeply. I was scared as poop, but she’s right, somehow we would’ve been ok.

I took a Monday evening bath *with a face mask* to celebrate that and still having our home.

4 Comments | tags: adoption, Family, Love, Self-care, Trauma, Yappy | posted in Finalization Life, Other Stuff, Parenting

August 16, 2020

Trauma Whirlwinds

By AdoptiveBlackMom

I am in the midst of a trauma related whirlwind the details of which are not mine to share.

This moment has clearly revealed Hope’s true vulnerabilities out in the world, and it’s requiring an enormous amount of emotional restraint from me.

I am a mess of sadness, heartbreak and unmitigated rage. That rage is not directed at Hope, but a third party who also has peeped my daughter’s vulnerabilities. It is taking everything in me not to round up my squad and take matters into my own hands. I also know that If I shared what is happening with Hope with some folks in my life, things would get very, very out of hand very, very, very fast.

And trust, I am so tempted to let that ish play out.

But Hope needs me, and I am acutely aware of how much she needs me in this moment. She needs me as a mom. She needs me as a woman who has lived through some things. She needs me to just love her and reassure her that it’s going to be ok.

I am committed to keeping a 30K foot view of what is happening to my daughter. I can clearly see what is driving the behavior and what is driving the emotion and the need. I know that this mess is trying to fill a hole that has existed for a long, long time; I know this has everything to do with her life before me and the pieces of life that are still missing.

I know that there is nothing that I can really do or say to fill that hole; it’s primal. I get it. It’s also breaking my heart.

During the last day, I have tried to reason with her. I listen to her without judgment. I’m trying to keep the lines of communication open. The only way to do that is to keep my own emotions in check.

Last night I had to take a late evening walk just to call a friend to let out my own emotions. There I was out with goofy Yappy walking the neighborhood in the dark, in the rain with a headlamp letting it all out, so I could come back with my own emotional mask on to reengage.

I’m glad I had that chance because I walked back into a whole ‘nother bucket of bs.

There is a silver lining in this moment; this moment could be so worse. It could be so much more devastating, but Hope was already questioning her feelings about her choices. She wanted to talk to AbsurdlyHotTherapist about it but hasn’t been able to get an appointment. I’m encouraged that she was trying to figure out how to work through this mess on her own and in a healthy way. I’ve reached out to him to beg for an appointment and to give him a heads up on what’s happening. I need her to have that unbiased third party to help her.

Hope is a horrible liar; she also is horrible at keeping her own secrets, much less anyone else’s. She almost always tells me or AHT what’s up or creates a situation in which I find out (See stupid games from last month). She told me that her lies are more about wanting to avoid disappointing me than a fear of something like me putting her out.

On the one hand she trusts that I’m not going to threaten her physical wellbeing, but I do wonder if she thinks my expectations of her are too high? It’s got me wondering if expectations are too high for her? I need my own barometer check.

Ultimately, I know that we will get through this, but I don’t know how long it will take. I don’t know what the collateral damage will be. I don’t know…what is around the corner.

I also know, that this could happen again and again.

Trauma stuff is hard.

Adoption stuff is hard.

There are very real wounds.

I know I am not capable of fully healing her; I can only support her, love her, be there for her in these moments. She is transitioning into adulthood, and I worry a bit about how much my protection can extend around her. Before it seemed like a nice little bubble, now it’s just this amorphous thing and I can’t control the environment for her. I know that is normal, that actually aspects of this is normal for kids her age. I also know that as a middle-aged woman, I’m still, *still* dealing with some bullshit from my own youth, and I didn’t any a fraction of the drama in my life that Hope’s had in hers. I worry about where that leaves her.

All I know is that I’m still her ride or die. I always will be, but whew…this phase of parenting is not easy.

4 Comments | tags: adoption, Adoption and Emotions, Adoption and Trauma, African American Adoption, african american adoptive families, african american adoptive parenting, african american adoptive parents, african american families, African American Life, African American Moms, African American Parenting, African American Single Adoptive Mom, African-American Adoptions, Child Trauma, Family, Secondary Trauma, Trauma | posted in Dealing with the Past, Finalization Life, Hard Stuff

July 19, 2020

Parenting a Young Adult

By AdoptiveBlackMom

This last month of staying at home with Hope has been hard for me. She has been testing limits in ways that are new. It’s normal; it’s age appropriate, and I hate it.

Since the ‘stupid games’ episode, Hope seems to have forgotten a number of truths: I no longer trust her because she lied. I rarely forget. We are not roommates; I am her mother.

This week Hope announced her plans to me on a number of occasions. She was going to the outlet to shop for shoes (Ok, she really needed shoes). She was going on an all day date (Oh really? Did we forget we were supposed to be experiencing the consequences of stupid decisions?) She was taking the car to go out on Friday.

This is where I drew the bright line. Hella irritated by these declarations brought on by Hope’s trying on of adulthood, I said no. I initiated a conversation about how I’m trying to give her space to develop some independence, but I needed her to reframe her declarations to requests. We ain’t roommates; that’s my car and she needed to ask to use it. There are still expectations of a curfew and I fully expect to be told where she’s going.

That conversation was several days ago, and I’m still struggling with Hope. She is a good kid, but she is wildly immature. She recently ordered about $100 of slime.

SLIME, y’all. 🙄 A sophomore in college and binge spending on slime. Woooosawww. Ok.

When you see those kinds of purchases rolling into the house and then get *told* about how your car will be used without any consideration about any plans you might have… Well it’s triggering.

I’m committed to not yelling, to discussing things like adults and to coming to positive resolution. Yeah, all that. But real talk, I didn’t issue any ‘declarative statements’ to my parents until I was living completely independently with my own address in another zip code. This version of young adulting is foreign to me, and I. Don’t. Like. It.

I can’t even get Hope to do the chores I ask of her when I ask, so my emotional struggle these last few weeks has me hot under the collar. Lots of deep breaths.

I have tried explain my response to these shenanigans. I have attempted to articulate my communications needs. I have tried to find some grace, especially since I only have another month with my daughter before she heads back to campus. But, real talk, I’m seriously annoyed.

And what’s even more annoying? There only so much I can do. I’m super conscious of that. This is a gray area. I need to offer some rules and guidance— less of the former and more of the latter. I’m trying to grow the trust (super hard lately) and independence while insisting on respect for me, this home and my things. I’m also hyper aware that there are things I would never do to Hope, like threaten to put her out. I did tell her that if she wanted to do all the things she thinks she’s grown enough to do, she might make plans to get and finance her own apartment next summer since somethings just ain’t ever going down here. That said this will always be home, but it comes with some rules.

I’m struggling, and the more I struggle the more irritated I become. I worry that this conflict will engulf us. I need to avoid that, but I need Hope to find her emerging lane and promptly get in it.

I’m really worried about Hope going back to school next month, what with the pandemic and all. That said, I am looking forward to missing her a bit. I’m ready for a parenting-cation.

8 Comments | tags: Adolescents, adoptee, adoption, Adoption and Parenting, Adoption Blogs, African America Adoption, african american adoptee, african american adoptive families, african american adoptive parenting, college student, Family, Parenting, Parenting Young Adults, Young Adults | posted in college student, Empty Nest, Finalization Life, Parenting, Teen parenting, The College Years

April 30, 2020

We’re Ok

By AdoptiveBlackMom

Last week, when Hope exhibited some COVID-19 symptoms I had a complex moment of panic. Naturally I worried and ran through all of the possibilities that a parent goes through, fretted about how she caught it from me and praying that she would be ok.

I also thought about Hope’s family.

Her birth family.

And then I really spun out.

Should I tell them she might be sick? Should I tell them I was sick? What if she got really sick? Of course I would tell them; they should know.

Would they blame me? Gosh, they should blame me. I should’ve tried harder at really quarantining within the house. I should’ve stayed in my room and rode it out.

OMG, what if Hope endured all she did only for her mother by adoption to give her a deadly virus?

I took her temperature again and went back to my room to gather myself because I was falling apart.

I’d already struggled with being sick myself, causing Hope, my family and friends who knew a lot of worry. I felt stupid for catching it and terrified that I might die and leave Hope.

I’ve had a lot of really big feelings this last month.

When Hope showed some symptoms, I called my primary care doctor’s office and demanded that we be tested. I needed to know whether Hope had it. At that point, my doctor was convinced I had it, and with that we all kind of assumed Hope would have it as well. But I was three weeks into being sick; how come Hope’s symptoms fell out of the ‘two week’ window?

Well, we finally were tested late last week.

Negative!

thankful

My doctor called after we got the news from the clinic to discuss it. He’s still convinced that I had it and that Hope probably did as well. He thinks she was largely asymptomatic, and when the symptoms did emerge it was the virus’ last lap.

Essentially, if we had been tested the first or second week of my own illness, our results might’ve been different.

In any case, the hard core lockdown is over and we are back to regular “stay at home.”

Hope through this remained largely unfazed. She asked if she could still do some of the weekly errands. She also wanted to be sure that we would keep our recently developed habit of having chai tea lattes in the morning.

Having tea together is our new bonding time. She will drink coffee, but isn’t the biggest fan so earlier this month on a whim I made her a chai latte. She fell in love. Some days I don’t even see her unless we are having tea because she’s hold up in her room and I’m tied to my laptop.

I did tell Hope’s family this week. We are family, and I wanted them to know how she’s doing…how we are doing. I also wanted to be sure they were ok and to encourage them to stay put if possible. This virus is no joke. Hope had very little closure when she lost one of her parents and these days you can barely have a funeral–I can’t bear to think of Hope having to go through something like that again due to COVID-19.

So, that’s it. We’re ok. I’m still recovering, but feeling more like myself each day! Thanks for your kind words and support over the last few posts. I really appreciate it!

5 Comments | tags: adoption, Adoption and Bio Families, African American Adoption, african american adoptive families, african american adoptive parents, Family, First Families | posted in Finalization Life

April 7, 2020

Pandemic Chronicles vol. 2

By AdoptiveBlackMom

We are sliding into a full month of social distancing. It’s ok I guess. I was getting out twice a week to do grocery/supply shopping. I’ve been doing a lot of walking. Yappy has enjoyed the walks. And I am still walking with Hope, when I can coax her out of the house.

Hope, for her part, seems to be ok. She mostly stays in her room, and other than going walking and watching an occasional show together, I’ve just let her be. I did round her up last week to talk about what would happen if one of us were to get sick.

I essentially got a blank stare.

I’m always hopeful that Hope’s ability to have difficult conversations has expanded and in many ways it has. But I know that she’s been keeping up with the news around COVID-19, not so much as to obsess over it, but staying informed. And the death toll, well, it’s triggering for everyone. When I brought it up and talked about planning a bit in the event one of us gets sick (namely me), I know it was hard to hear. Hope lost a parent; she knows what that’s like. All this talk about getting sick with a virus that can be deadly is not something she wants to think about on a personal level.

It’s one thing to be home and watch the news about what’s happening out there, but what if “out there” comes inside, in your home?

So, I understand the blank stare and the reticence to have a discussion. My baby adult isn’t all that into adulting.

Heck, half the time, neither am I.

After a month, I’m a bit irritated that Hope continues to not help out around the house unless specifically asked, but what’s new? We still haven’t unloaded the car from bringing her home. The house feels cluttered with all of the things. It also feels homey. Cluttered and homey.

Emotionally, I’m a bit better this week. I think I’ve hit acceptance in my grief about this new normal. My therapist is now doing telehealth, which helped enormously. And I’m trying to give myself some grace when it comes to eating.

So, I’m ok, but I’m also really over it.

I’m off to get a handful of Cadbury mini eggs from my stash.

Leave a comment | tags: adoption, African American Adoption, african american adoptive families, african american adoptive parents, Family, life, pandemic | posted in Finalization Life

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