Struggling in Attachment

This post has been a long time coming...I don't even know if it will be completely coherent as I'm still sorting through some complicated feelings I can't quite finger out yet...please bear with me...

I've definitely realized there's a cycle to my struggle with attachment (after almost five months of bonding 24/7; you think it's time?!): It's all about the weekly visits with Tomorrow's biological family. (BTW, is it weird to say biological? Should I say birth family? I didn't get a rule book with the baby, KWIM?)

All week long I go about my business, loving Tomorrow as if she is "my own" baby. In the morning, when Mike brings her to me, I take her reluctantly at first but her warm little body instantly melts me. If she's been sleeping in her crib I bring her to bed and I cuddle her up and kiss her sweet face. If she's sleepy, I will doze with her in my arms as long as she wants or until the boys wake me up. If she's wide awake for the morning, I let her lay next to me and babble, and I try to read or write while she practices rolling over and crawling (backwards). Sometimes we play silly games like "What's that under the blanket?" (it's usually my foot). When I get out of bed, I tie her on to me in a carrier, like a piece of clothing I will wear for most of the day. All day long I feed, burp, and change her. I still massage her at least one day, and share Reiki time with her and stretch her legs out as well. I love to play peek-a-boo and tickle her to hear her giggle. I wear her in a carrier so I can comfort and entertain her, while tending to the boys and the house. At night, I swaddle, rock and sing lullabies to her. She fights going to sleep at night but I am proud to say have never let her cry it out (or cry without being held). When she finally lets go with a sigh, I experience an emotional letdown. My milk even lets down sometimes (I express for her) and my salty tears fall, too. I hold her until she falls into a deep sleep and begins to "talk to the angels" (that's what Nana calls it when babies are falling asleep and their eyes move around and they smile and sometimes even appear to be mouthing words and nodding). I whisper sweet nothings to her and she smiles and nods in her sleep, and nestles into my bosom. I watch her as she sleeps so peacefully, and I can see the beautiful woman she will become. She appears so tiny, and at the same time so wise. I bow to the divine being which resides in her.

It rarely occurs to me anymore, through any of our activities, that she isn't my child.

So when Monday rolls around and I have to get ready for the weekly visit, I am conflicted. Actually, it starts on Sunday, with this sinking feeling when I think of what I need to do for the next day. I've never liked Mondays anyway, now I loathe them even more. I've tried to fake a nonchalant attitude of "Oh, it's just a short visit! No biggie!" but that always falls short of the truth.

So as attached as we are and as perceptive as she is, it only makes sense that she picks up on my stress. It starts with naps. Normally, I can swaddle/rock/sing to her and put her down for all naps in her crib. Not on Mondays. Usually, I can lay her in her "fascinette" in our bedroom (an Arm's Reach co-sleeping sidecar to which I have attached some crinkly and squeaky toys) and get dressed, make the bed et cetera. But not on Mondays.

This past Monday was an exceptionally tense and frustrating one. She was more vocal than ever about not wanting to be put down, and practically screamed at me all day. Everything I needed to get done was a struggle because she wanted my undivided attention, as in eye contact and silly faces all day. When Mike came home to drive us to the visit, I was at the end of my rope. I was almost relived to take her to the visit. And while we waited for our food at Denny's, I told Mike and the boys that I had had a hard day because she needed me so much and I wasn't even attached to her (yeah right!). Needless to say, Mike looked at me like I had seven heads. Hammy said, "Me neither." And Moose added, "Yeah, she is annoying." I felt detached. I could let go. I said something to the effect of "Think of the things we can do without a baby once again if she's reunified with her bio mom!" I was whistling in the dark. In retrospect, it's almost comical.

When we picked her up, she gave me a big gummy grin, grabbed both sides of my face and planted a kiss on my chin. The thick layer of skin I had tried to grow fell off. It wasn't even glued on. I don't think I even have enough glue for the job. I cried sitting in the middle row next to her all the way home. Once there, she didn't want us to put her down for a second and it was okay.

Clearly, I'm attached to my foster baby, and in the words of the great writer Maya Angelou, "I wouldn't take nothin' for my journey now"...BUT I do worry a great deal (and maybe too much) about what will happen to her and me if she is "reunified" with her bio mom and her family of origin. And this may sound selfish, but I worry mostly about me and how I will cope (or not) and how it might affect our "core family" (that is what the professionals call the foster family that may include already-adopted or biological children). I figure I don't worry as much about what the aftermath would be like for her anymore because I know that I basically won't be able to do a damn thing to help her through the tough transition.

Will I be able to function? Will I need to get on anti-depressants again? Will I need therapy? Will I ever want to hold another baby again? Will I ever be able to fill that whole in my heart, in her room, and in our life? Will I come out on the other side better or worse for wear? Will I harden?

Sometimes I wonder why I did this at all. Should I have known better? I get attached to plants. What was I thinking? Why didn't anyone stop me from doing this to myself? Where is this path trying to take me? When will it end? What am I supposed to do or learn that I am not seeing?

Sisters are doin' it for themselves!

In Colorado, sisters (age: 17 and 9, when they came in care) were separated and placed into foster care due to their biological mother’s drug addiction. The older sister emancipated herself and went on to have two children. After she had her two children, the foster parents cut off contact between the sisters (age: 22 and 13, now). They have not seen each other for two years. Young adults that were once foster children made a difference by going to the Colorado legislature to testify for foster siblings to have the right to remain in contact with each other. They were successful in their fight for the rights of foster children and have impacted the lives of current and future foster children. Foster sibling relationships are another thing that gets lost in the foster care system and has become a casualty. This is another area where the children pay the price for their biological parents issues."


Bill to help siblings in foster care:

"House Bill 1006 has passed in Colorado that will help foster children that have siblings in different foster homes and also when a sibling ages out of foster care. It is not uncommon for foster children to be separated in foster care. In some areas, foster siblings can find themselves separated by a number of miles making visits difficult and more likely not to happen. In these situations, siblings are the only family that these foster children may have. A lot of foster children did not have biological parents that they could depend on, so they learned to depend only on each other. In most cases, the bond with foster siblings is a very strong one. The older children tends to be the parent so to speak, since there was not a biological parent around or able to parent. It can be very difficult and hard on the older children not be in the parental position once they enter foster care."

I cannot even imagine foster parents coming between me and my two sisters (or Tomorrow and her FIVE sisters) and I am so glad to know that there is legislation being enacted to help protect the rights of siblings to remain in contact with each other.

The bond between siblings can be stronger than the bond between a parent and a child-- perhaps especially in situations where there has been abuse and neglect.

A huge part of why I feel that the court-ordered visits Tomorrow has *are* so important is that she gets to be with her sisters who all adore her and shower her with love.

*The above (quoted) is taken from a really great blog I've been reading that is all about fostering: http://foster-care.adoptionblogs.com

Letting Off Steam

After visits, we all do it. Tomorrow looks at us and smiles her crooked I'm-only-smiling-because-I- know-it's-the-socially-acceptable-thing-to-do-right-now smile while simultaneously looking as if she is about to cry, then usually laughs and then cries. She is verrry clingy-- and those of you who know me well, and how much I love babies, know that I normally would not use the word clingy to describe babies who simply want to be held. Clingy = I cannot put her down, in a desperate way. Not just that she would rather be held or worn, but as if she is screaming DO NOT LET ME GO. It feels like fear. It looks like fear. It sounds like fear. Of course, we just hold her. We kiss her. We tell her we missed her. We let her sleep on us (she will normally sleep in her crib for the first three hour nap of the night but not after visits).

Yesternight her bio mom gave Tomorrow some hair cream that contains hormones (mink oil, anyone?), a hat and mittens in size 2-4T (the T is for toddler), size 4-6 socks (she is a size 2), size 1 moccasins (?), a pair of red and pink Nikes (!), a Tweety Bird (for ages 3+) that dances and sings I Want Candy, and a Dum Dum (lollipop) "FOR HER TO TEETHE ON".

My knee-jerk reaction was to call her Case Worker, but I decided I was over-reacting. The woman apparently has no clue what is developmentally appropriate or nutritionally sound, and doesn't even know what size Tomorrow is wearing. Notes to self.

Heartbreaking Visit

This isn't a current photo but rather an old one of Tomorrow just getting ready to cry at the end of a photo session back in October, and it is one of only three pix I have of her in which she is unhappy. (The other two are of her in the body cast and the Pavlik harness and I will probably never post them here).

That is how she looked whenever I picked her up from her first visit in three weeks tonight; only she had tears streaming down her face and she was crying, nearly hyperventilating and shaking.

She was crying *sooo hard*, and the first thing her mom said was, "she has been so fussy tonight!" Fussy, really? We call that "really, really upset" in our house. We might even label it as "inconsolable". I was almost hysterical on the inside, wondering why nobody had called me, but I managed to keep my cool. I took her from the birth mom and she immediately stopped crying and laid her head on my shoulder. Then she was trying to catch her breath from sobbing so hard and long, and it was so terribly sad that I felt like crying myself. The Case Aide said that all the girls are so rambunctious at the visits and she tries to keep an eye on everyone and everything and won't nap (nevermind that she had taken a two hour nap right before the visit)...bio mom asked if she is teething (why is that the catch-all explanation for all crying that doesn't stop when something is shoved in her mouth?)...so I said (but didn't mean), "She is probably just tired."

Still, I think I saw the pain in her birth mother's eyes when I took Tomorrow from her and she stopped crying right away. So I said something about how she is at the age when babies get so attached to people that they don't go to others as easily, and I told them that she doesn't jump into her Case Manager's arms anymore either and she used to do so (she sees Codi weekly, too, so I thought it was a good comparison). Then her bio mom made the comment that this is why she needs to see her more often-- and she hadn't seen her for two weeks, so I had to agree with her. Then a weird thing happened: the Case Aide seemed to get defensive and told us that she had been on injury leave the first week and couldn't help it, and that the next week's visit fell on MLK day. But we had both offered to make up both visits another evening. The Case Aides just don't seem to have the time in their schedules (or aren't willing to make the effort to move their schedules around).

I think it is wrong, for all involved, for court-ordered family visits to be missed and not made up for more than one week. I think it is awful for her to have to go three weeks not seeing her mom and sisters and then being left with them. Yet I have to ask myself, am I at fault for not foreseeing that this would happen? After all, I'm essentially her mother. And I know that as she gets more and more attached to us, the flipside of that is that she will not be as attached to others. Sadly, the closer we grow, the less she will probably want to be held by her birth mother.

I don't know what to do. Do I offer to sit in on the next visit? Or just wait in the lobby in case I am needed for soothing? All I know is that I need to call someone tomorrow, and tell them something. Tonight just wasn't right. I haven't heard Tomorrow cry like that since she was being cut out of her body cast, and I can't imagine that happening every single week from now 'til whenever.

Meanwhile, I can't put her down tonight. I don't want to and anyway, she won't let me.

Ain't Braggin'

"It ain't braggin' if you done it." If I had a dollar for every time I've heard my stepfather say that...LOL...but he has a right to brag as he's one of the hardest working men I know! He's fighting colon cancer now, and I know someday he'll look back and say he beat cancer. It ain't braggin' if you done it, and I look forward to hearing him brag about how he did it.

I really am not one to toot my own horn, but I will be the first to tell you that being a mom to small children is one of the most challenging (and exhausting) jobs there is. I remember when my Kinesiology instructor in massage school told our class that the two toughest jobs in the world were being a ditch digger and being a caregiver to small children. I wasn't a mom myself yet, although I would find out I was pregnant soon after that lecture and his comments would echo in my mind in the wee hours of the morning when I couldn't get back to sleep wondering if I was cut out for motherhood. I'm pretty sure that ditch digging is much more physically demanding than being a mom, but taking care of small children absolutely includes almost constant movement (except when it requires total stillness!); it requires bending, carrying more than 25 (usually screaming and squirming) pounds, lifting, stretching, and standing on ones feet much of the day; it demands emotional, mental, physical and spiritual strength; and most importantly, it calls for endurance and patience. It certainly isn't easy, and I never dreamed it could be so hard.

But I digress...

Today I received one of the best compliments yet in my career as a foster mom, and it reminded me that I still haven't blogged about a very touching experience I had with Tomorrow's biological mom. The county caseworker was here for a home visit. His visits alternate every other month- one month he visits us here in the home and the next month he sees Tomorrow at family visits. "Ben" is a very articulate, kind man who seems to genuinely care about both foster kids *and* bio and foster parents and acts as a professional liason using a team approach in the supervision he provides.

Ben told me that Tomorrow's bio mom cannot say enough good things about me, how Tomorrow is being cared for, how happy she looks at each visit and how cute she is always dressed for the visits! It almost feels like I'm bragging by blogging about this, but I keep thinking to myself: It ain't braggin' if you done it, and I done it!

It felt really, really good to hear that from Ben today. It felt very validating. Of course, I pshaw'd it and I'm still doubtful as this is our very first placement, but he insisted that it is rare for a bio mom to say such positive things about a foster mom. Ben also told me that Tomorrow's birth mom really appreciated the photo album we gave her (with photos of Tomorrow in it) for Christmas. I was surprised she told him about it. I had told her I was working on it but it took me a couple weeks longer than I had planned to get it put together for her; although when I finally did it ended up being the perfect time to give it to her, at the surprise family visit that ended up taking place on Christmas Eve whenever we ended up not going to Missouri. It ain't braggin' if you done it.

So I literally got choked up today, hearing that Tomorrow's bio mom feels so good about her daughter's foster care placement, and while it may be hard to believe I was momentarily at a loss for words. When I found my voice and could speak without squeaking, I told him what happened at a visit in early December when I had to bring both boys as Mike was out of town:

Because I had to bring both boys into the building to drop Tomorrow off for her visit, I brought a stroller. Perhaps because I had Tomorrow in the stroller and wasn't carrying her like I usually am, Tomorrow's mom walked right up to us and hugged me when I walked in. I was taken aback at first but hugged her back. She seemed very excited and said, "Thank you so much for everything you do for her." I remember thinking, either she is on something or she has started therapy! Her sister also said something about how cute she was dressed, and the Case Aide added, "We really appreciate you." That made me feel shy, but also like my heart ballooned to twice its normal size. I felt different while waiting for the visit to be over. I didn't feel a sense of dread about seeing her again and hearing what cockamamie ideas she had for me this time (E.g. piercing Tomorrow's ears, starting her on rice cereal and juice). It kind of felt like Tomorrow was at daycare while I read the newspaper and the boys played at the Burger King playplace that is right across the street from where the visits take place (you can't do much in an hour and a half during the rush hours). So then, after the visit, Tomorrow's birth mom walked out to the van with me and watched as I got Tomorrow, Moose and Hammy loaded into the van, then the diaper bag, my purse, stroller, et cetera. She commented that it was good for her to "see where she rides" (in her rear-facing carseat with the safety mirror hanging on the seat in front of her, tucked in with a blankie and a babydoll...) and she noticed how much Tomorrow liked Hammy who was making funny faces at her and making her giggle. I told her that Hammy is her favorite person and her hero who always cheers her up when she is fussy or grumpy, and I also confided in her that it was bittersweet for me to see how attached they already are as foster siblings. Nonetheless, I assured her that we would continue to love her as if she was our own and that we would deal with whatever happens. She then told me that she could not ask for a better foster mother, and told me how grateful she is that I am taking care of her daughter like she would if she could. (!!) I teared up big time then but somehow managed to say that it was my honor to take care of her. I don't know why I did what I did next-- maybe because it was snowing-- but I asked her if I could give her a ride home. I have to admit that I was relieved when she said no thanks, she would walk; I don't know where that ride might have taken us nor if it is really a good idea for us to go there. So we said our goodbyes, and when I drove by and waved to her, as she walked home in the snow, I thought about how empty it must feel to go home alone without your children. Although I have occasionally fantasized about not having children, the reality of them not being with me would be more than I think I could bear. In fact, some mornings, when I am so sore I feel as if I cannot get out of bed, I think about Tomorrow's bio mom. I think: if she can get up out of bed and go to work without her kids around, then I can get up and go to work with mine and one of hers here with me to make me laugh and smile often.

So there it is. We have the best possible working relationship as birth mom and foster mom. And you know why? Because we are *both* keeping our egos out of it. We are simply extending the same courtesy we give our family, to one another. We are treating each other the way we want to be treated. We are connected as mothers, through the shared experience of loving Tomorrow. And whether she was solely responsible for what happened to Tomorrow or merely negligent, she is always there for the family visits. She is usually waiting eagerly for her children to arrive. She always brings something for Tomorrow to each visit, everything from bibs and clothes to pacifiers and teethers to shoes that light up. I found out today that she is working two jobs and trying to get herself into a better housing situation. While it may seem to me and many others that her priorities are a bit out of order, she is still making an effort, and it might very well be her best.

Looking back, I can see that I have absolutely made (and am making) the very best out of the worst situation. "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." -- Robert Frost

It ain't braggin' if you done it.

"Put the power of the universe here"

Tonight was the second family visit. It was an evening visit, from 5 to 6:30 p.m. and at a different center in a not-so-great part of town but apparently the family has to walk and it is close to Tomorrow's bio mom's apartment. Mike took Tomorrow this time since he could and I wasn't really feeling up to it. Mom brought a four pack of bibs, a pack of size 2 diapers, a really soft pair of pink socks and a small can of Similac Sensitive formula. Mike said the birth mom asked how Tomorrow was doing in the cast right from the start which is a good sign. She was glad to hear she was out of the cast and harness. The first person to hold her was the twelve year old sister who Mike said also cried when the visit was coming to an end. My heart breaks for the family, especially the sisters. I can't imagine one of my little sisters being taken when she was just a newborn baby, and only getting to see her once a week after not getting to see her at all for a few weeks.

And once again I feel the need to protect *my* heart and yet I don't know exactly how to do it. I cannot help but fall in love with this little baby, who I carry around with me most of the day and sleep with half the night (not that I don't try to get her to sleep in her crib-- believe me, I do!!)

Speaking of which...I am supposed to be going upstairs to take a nap...but I feel like I have something I need to get off my chest...I can't quite put into words yet how bittersweet this experience is. Today, I feel like I am acting like someone I am not. The family visits are wake-up calls that bring home the reality that this sweet little baby, who feels like she is ours, belongs to someone else. Even though I am the one getting up with her all night, holding her as she cries and heals from horrendous abuse, and hearing her first babbling, coos and giggles. It's days like today when I wish I had given this opportunity more consideration. But that's just my brain talking. My heart would compose an entirely different post with an adorable pic of Tomorrow.

In summary, I told Mike when he got home with Tomorrow that I will never again foster a newborn baby or very young child who is not legal risk. He said, "Honey, I know you and you wouldn't be able to say no if they called you with another baby" and I went off on him! I VOW to myself and to my kids that I will never put us through this again. Mike and the boys are falling in love with Tomorrow, too, and I imagine we will all be devastated if she is reunited with her family of origin.

Please continue to keep us in your hearts/meditation/prayers/reiki/thoughts/vibes.

Thanks for listening.