Well, here I am. Six months later and I'm finally writing. Writing what? Has as it really been six months? It most certainly has. It has been the longest, most challenging and exhausting six months of my life. And, unfortunately there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. If you are looking for a happy, upbeat, the sun is shining, birds are singing and all is well here in happy-land post, then I would advise you to quit reading. Now.
It’s been six months since we’ve been home in the U.S. but seven months since I’ve had custody. That first month when I was alone with SV in Russia, I had a glimpse of what was to come, but at the time hoped that once Darren was with me, once we were home and he had solid routine and his brother’s example to follow that things would change.
I quickly realized, and am slowly having to accept is that the child we visited with in Russia, the child we thought we knew and the child we fought five long excruciating years for is NOT the same child we brought home. I don’t blame SV for this and I can’t say what caused the change. Perhaps the orphanages drug the children during visits? Perhaps they threaten them? Perhaps he was just scared and nervous and so his behavior was drastically altered from what is normal? I’ll never know. What I do know, is that never in a million years did we anticipate having to deal with the kinds of behavior SV has exhibited since being home.
I have been leery of sharing much of what has gone on because those who have not walked in our shoes are so quick to judge and offer solutions, when really they have no business saying anything at all. However, by keeping quiet I feel like I have distanced myself from friends and the support I need, and really the support my entire family needs. I can only “fake” it so long, and then the old saying “if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy” comes into play. So truth is folks, I’m not happy, ok? I’ll admit it. I feel like we got cheated, I feel like we wasted five years of our lives, I feel like we ruined our happy little family, I feel like we committed financial suicide, I feel like there is no recovery, no hope and nothing is going to get better. And all of this, for what?
We sat out on this road to adoption hoping to bring a child into our family and love them as our own. Truth is, I don’t know if I love him. I don’t feel like I can love him. I do feel like the biggest hypocrite and failure of all time. I truly wonder sometimes if he wouldn’t have been better off staying in Russia, no really, wouldn’t that have been better then bringing him home to a place where mom is sad and angry all the time?
Yes I’m angry. I’m angry that he is so difficult. I’m angry that it took five years to make this happen and now we have eight years of bad behavior to try and deal with. I’m angry that he goes out of his way to be mean, no; cruel to Aidan and that he gets pleasure from it. I’m angry that he is lazy and unmotivated and doesn’t even attempt to learn. I’m angry that I’ve been called into his school more times than I can remember, for reasons such as thinking it would be a good idea to poop on the classroom floor and urinate on the class’s bathroom wall, for punching his teacher in the stomach, for hitting another child on the playground, for multiple food fights, for cornering female classmates and kissing them…. I could go on and on. I’m angry that I can’t have another baby, I wanted another baby but there’s no way I can bring another child into this mess. I’m angry that after six months it’s NOT GETTING BETTER. It’s not. I’m angry that we spent $100,000 to make this adoption happen and still have $30,000 of debt hanging over or heads. I’m angry that even with all our prayers and faith and believing God would provide us with the finances we had to resort to credit cards and now even with Darren working three jobs we barely survive month to month. I’m angry that my husband works his ass off, that I never see him, that we never get to go out because we’re too scared to leave SV with anyone. I’m angry that while we scrimp and save and yank Aidan out of the greatest school ever it feels like everyone around us has abundance. It hurts, it hurts knowing if we hadn’t been persistent in this adoption, that Darren wouldn’t have to work so hard ALL the time, we’d be able to take our kids on vacation like everyone else, that Aidan could continue at a school that was GREAT for him, we wouldn’t be in debt and we’d have a modest amount in our savings account. It’s not fair. It’s not. And ok, you want the truth? The REAL truth? I’m angry at God. Here we are being obedient, doing what we felt He had for us to do, and this is our reward? Doesn’t seem right.
I’ve only just discussed the behavioral issues so far, but SV has had several medical issues as well. His teeth were atrocious, he had hearing issues, thankfully all he needed was tubes, but there was talk of another possible surgery to relieve pressure. He can’t gain weight, and has had several tests to determine the reason for this. He’s seen so many specialists for various things I have lost count. He has two holes in his heart and we’re looking at a possible open heart surgery (yea, we were surprised too). Now, tell me how the heck are we supposed to pay for that when we can’t even pay our bills? His pediatrician wants him to see a developmental psychologist/pediatrician, but we can’t afford $250 an hour and it’s not covered by insurance. Several people, who I know mean well have suggested therapy, but again, it’s not covered by insurance and we don’t have the money.
Well, how to end a post like this one? I typically don’t share these kinds of things, I don’t like disappointing people. I feel like people look up to me and think I’m some great heroine because of what we’ve done… I wish they didn’t, it would make being honest and real about how difficult, and how much everything just SUCKS right now easier. I’m no heroine, not even close. I’m a struggling mom surviving on what must be the prayers of some great friends and a God who loves me despite the fact that I’m royally ticked off at Him. I told Darren yesterday that if it’s true that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, then I’d rather it kill me, I’m strong enough, I don’t want to be stronger…. I’ve been strong all my life, I’m tired of being strong, I’m tired of fighting and struggling, I’m just tired. The end.