We’re Dealing…Sort of…

Trying to at least.  Life with a kid who has experienced a load of trauma in her short life, has to deal with the impending arrival of a biological half sibling and all the repercussions of feeling like “the unwanted one”,  a parent who is more absent than she and of course being 7, is not in the least bit easy. Actually, it’s pretty freaking hard, and this past month and a half has been damn near unbearable!

Mary has been exhibiting pretty normal behavior as far as the developmental milestones go for a 7  year old. Challenging authority, trying to prove her independence both socially and emotionally, developing better self-control, identifying emotions, and things like that.  She has also been exhibiting the traits of a child who is 7 that has ALSO experienced severe, early, and chronic trauma. Disregulation of affect, behavior, and/or cognition, as well as problems with trust, shame, self-esteem, and interpersonal relationships.  And even though I know that all of this is technically normal for “a kid like her” (I HATE when people say that, but here in this post it’s totally valid for making my point), I can’t help but be so damn frustrated and annoyed, and just at my wits end, and even thinking things that on a normal day I wouldn’t think.

Mary has been on and off of “punishment” or losing her privileges for the better part of a month and a half.  She’ll lose her freedom and choices for a few days at a time, and then gain them back, but no sooner has she had a day or two of her privileges back, she does something to totally and completely fuck it up again.  It’s been a continuous cycle for the past 6 weeks or so.  Just recently, she’s been lying so badly and consistently, that it was recommended (hesitantly) by her therapist to lie right back, and we did, and it was effective, and she hasn’t lied since, but as soon as she started to get her doggone privileges back, she failed to do the right thing again, and now, after having had a carnival, a fun party to attend, a field trip at camp (we weren’t sending her on trips for about 2 weeks), a day at the pool, and her toys back all in the course of 3 days, she decided that it would be really freaking cute to be rude and sassy to the basketball coach at her camp on Monday.

Callie’s dad went to pick her up at camp.  As he’s leaving the building, the counselor and the basketball coach chased him down to let him know what happened.  Apparently, when they were playing basketball, the coach asked Mary to give him the ball.  She adamantly refused, gave him the stink eye and said, “NO!” So, of course, he asked her again, and she repeated, “NO!”, at which point she finally gave up the ball by just dropping it to the ground and giving the coach a face that was just super fresh (you know the one with the dead stare and almost eye roll that makes you wanna smack them and the arms dangling at the side?  Yeah! That face!).  Then she stood there for the rest of the time, no effort, not moving, and when it was time to leave, the group filed out of the gym, and Mary was called back in by the coach, and she blatantly ignored him, and kept walking, knowing very well that she could hear him.  So the counselor marched her right back into the gym, and they both had a conversation letting her know that her behavior was unacceptable and that she would be in big trouble if she did it again.  Callie’s dad relayed all this information to Callie when he dropped her off at home after camp, and added, “Honestly, Honeypie, I don’t think she’s ever gonna learn!”.  Then Callie sent me a text, and I. WAS. FUMING!!!

I figured, I’d do my best to keep calm, walked through every possible scenario on my train ride home as to why in the world she would think it was okay to be so damn disrespectful (can you tell I’m still angry about this whole situation?!), and figured, since Callie had already suspended her choices YET AGAIN, that when I got home from work, we would sit at dinner and I would ask her calmly, what happened.  What had transpired during the day, or during basketball that made her act that way towards an adult?  What was going on with her emotionally that made her act so fresh?  So at dinner, we all set the table, washed up, and started to eat.  So I asked how her day went (we pretend that Callie hasn’t told me anything initially so Mary can make the choice to tell me the truth about her day, especially when she gets in trouble).

“It was okay.  But I got in trouble today at basketball.”

“Why did you get in trouble?”

“Because I wasn’t listening”

“Well, why weren’t you listening?”

“Because I didn’t want to play basketball”

“Why didn’t you want to play?”

“Because...”

“But what was your reason for not wanting to play?”

“Because!!”

“So you thought it was okay to be fresh and rude because you didn’t want to do something that someone asked you to do?!” (Now I’m getting a little more animated and a little more aggravated because we have had this conversation a dozen times about “The Mary Show” and her doing what she wants to do and not was is required or asked of her)

She gives me a blank stare and that damn smirk, so of course, now I lose it!  Like seriously lose it!  Hands down my most shameful parenting moment ever in life.

“YOU KNOW WHAT?!?! I’M SO TIRED OF THIS CRAP!!! THERE IS A LOT OF STUFF THAT I DON’T FEEL LIKE DOING AND I DO IT ANYWAY BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT YOU DO!!!  I DON’T FEEL LIKE GOING TO WORK, OR TAKING CARE OF KIDS, OR MAKING MONEY TO FEED ALL OF YOU GUYS, OR TAKE YOU TO THE PARK WHEN I’M TIRED AND I DON’T FEEL LIKE IT, OR BUY YOU NEW CLOTHES THAT YOU’RE GOING TO RUIN ANYWAY BECAUSE YOU AREN’T RESPONSIBLE WITH YOUR THINGS!!!  SO WHAT DO YOU DO?!  YOU’RE RUDE TO THE PEOPLE WHO ARE SO NICE AND FUN WITH YOU!?!   I’M SO TIRED OF YOUR BEHAVIOR BECAUSE IT’S EMBARRASSING!!!  YOU EMBARRASS US AND MAKE US LOOK BAD WHEN YOU BREAK THE RULES AND YOU ACT FRESH! AND SO HELP ME GOD, YOU BETTER GET YOURSELF TOGETHER MARY, OR I’M GONNA FREAKING LOSE IT!  I’VE HAD IT!  COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY HAD IT! (and with a pointed fork right in her direction…to end my tirade..) GET IT TOGETHER!!!! NOWWWWW!!!! AND NO PRIVILEGES UNTIL SCHOOL STARTS WHEN YOU PROVE THAT YOU’VE GOT IT FIGURED OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Slammed my fork on the table, and walked away)

Friends, this was just, ugh, so out of character for me, and I just, I don’t know!  Totally lost it!  I scared the crap out of her, and Callie, and even myself.  I had a brief moment where I saw my mother, and heard her voice, right before she beat the crap out of me and my siblings.  I couldn’t even believe that I actually did that.  But at the same time, it was totally liberating and almost like, she needed to hear it and see me angry and not just kinda flighty about the whole situation.  We have tried to address her lying and all of her behavioral issues in the best ways that we can (by the book, with the therapists help, with being in tune with the fact that she has loads of issues that your average 7 year old doesn’t have), and we have not even come CLOSE to fixing half of them.  And I know that it takes time, and I know that she isn’t going to be open to changing if this is how I am communicating with her.

And the worst part is (and this is real deep y’all) that at times like this, it makes me wonder if we are even ready to take on a kid that is so damaged.  What is this gonna look like in 5, 10 years.  Am I going to be taking a 15 year old to a clinic for an abortion, or bailing a 17 year old out of jail?  Am I gonna have to send my 16 year old off to rehab? Am I gonna have the authorities banging on my door at 2 am to tell me that my kid was caught doing something that she shouldn’t do?  Am I gonna worry about the wrong crowd and the unimaginable happening?  Do I have to worry that she is going to be a terrible influence on her younger siblings?  What is her behavior and poor choices going to do to our family, because still at times, Callie and I stand quite divided on how we should handle some of the issues that we face with her.  At times like this, I think, “No matter which way this adoption situation goes, I’ll be fine!  If she stays, cool.  If she doesn’t, cool.”  And that makes me feel like a horrible person, and I know that I only half way mean it when I’m angry.  And even though I know that we are doing the best we can, and we are trying our best to build her self confidence, and her self esteem and allow her to make mistakes so that she can learn from them, there is only so much we can take.

Every day, we lace up our boots, trudge through all the BS that parenting brings, and work together to do the best we can, when and while we can, to help change Mary’s life.  I know that I should have been more proactive than reactive at dinner, and that’s something that I am more aware of now that it’s actually happened.  I’ve made a promise to Callie and myself (and silently to Mary) that I will walk away BEFORE the explosion.  I didn’t do the right thing friends, and it’s been sitting with me for these past 2 days…I feel like a horrible Mamà….

The Longest 2 hours 43 1/2 Minutes of my Life!

So I admit, the “1/2” might be a little exaggerated but the 2hr 43minutes are not! It was important to me to track it so I knew the exact time, the exact hour, the exact minute in case God forbid something happened.

“Sammie?”
“Sammie?!?!”
“SAMMIE!!!!!”
It didn’t sound regular. It sounded like something was wrong. We had just gotten in from dinner. I had just taken my shoes off and put my feet up on the coffee table, and Mary was changing into her pajamas getting ready for a busy day tomorrow. I got up quickly, half walked half ran to the bathroom, barged in and asked what was wrong.

Blank expression on her face, voice soft and frail, bloody tissue in hand, she answered, “I’m bleeding…” I looked into the bowl and there was a whole lot of blood.

Time stopped…everything went black for about 8 seconds. What do I do? Where do I go? How do I help? The clock starts ticking again. There is something wrong. Clearly, very wrong!

“MARY! Get your shoes on! We gotta go!!!”

I grabbed Callie’s hoodie, Mary’s ipad, our keys and push everyone out the door. “Are you crampy? Do u still feel like you’re bleeding? Do you need me to do anything? I’m nervous. I’m scared. What if something’s wrong?” We weren’t moving fast enough. It felt like I got stuck behind the slowest driver in NY state, caught every red light, and couldn’t find a parking spot. The hospital is 8 blocks away but it still took us 11 minutes to get there.

We check in at the hospital. 27 minutes before they called us in. “Change into this. Let’s set up an IV. Waiting on ultrasound tech. Someone will get you soon. Any cramping? Twins right? Could be the loss of just 1.” We were loosing it. Tears, prayers, phone calls. My in-laws came to get Mary because we felt like it was a bit much for a 6 year old.

It was just Callie and I. Clock ticking. Silence. More tears. I was trying to comfort her. I was trying to say the right things but I was fumbling. 1 hour 40 minutes- they bring a wheel chair and we walk over to ultrasound. “Sorry miss. You have to wait outside.”

WHAT?!?! Wait out here? By myself with all these thoughts, and this clock ticking? I wouldn’t be in there with Callie to hold her hands and wipe tears if this all takes a turn for the worst. Hesitantly, I say ok. I check my phone. 1 hour 55 minutes. Hands in my pockets, I pace the waiting area. Bing Bang Theory plays on the TV. Not so funny today. It’s just me in there. I look at ultrasound pictures on my phone. I watch the video over and over again of the first time we heard their heart beats. I pray. I cry. I panic. I can hardly breathe. I don’t hear her crying, but I don’t hear her laughing either. 2 hours 18 minutes! What’s taking so long!?!?!

Finally, the door opens, Callie strolls out, picture in hand, smile on her face, “It’s the first time they get them both in one picture!”

Relief. I can breathe a full breath. I’m fine. She’s fine. Babies are fine. Everyone is ok and in one piece. I see 2 big heads, ying yangs, my little cuties together looking like they’re almost high-fiving each other. Callie likes to pull pranks on people and she says the twins totally beat her at her own game. I don’t know what to say. I hug her, kiss her, and kiss her belly (but not before a quick over the tummy pow-pow to each of them for scaring the living crap outta Mama!) We laugh. It is kinda funny. We head back to our room in the ER. Callie has her cervix checked, Blood work and urine results get back and everything checks out well. 2 hours and 43 (and a half) minutes later, they hand us our paperwork, and we are headed home.

We get home to find Nonna and Pop passed out on the couch. They are relieved to know that their first grandbabies are doing fine. We give hugs and kisses, say our see ya’s, wake Mary and let her know we’re home and that all is well. We get into bed emotionally drained and physically exhausted. I hold Callie a little closer tonight, rest my hand on her growing belly and say a silent prayer. It wasn’t until a while later that I noticed I didn’t hear the clock ticking anymore…

Week 10

There is nothing more awesome to me than watching my beautiful Callie get excited about our weekly “chalkboard update”. Every Thursday for the past month I have been documenting the stages of fetal development via a $5.99 chalkboard I bought at the Home Depot. I then add everyone to a MASSIVE mass text (about 20 of our closest friends and both of our families which include my 5 brothers and sister, mom, dad, Callie’s parents, brother, and her 2 aunts) and watch the craziness ensue. Our phones go off about 100 times in 10 minutes with a ton of “awww’s”, “how cute!”, “she’s glowing!” and “love the weekly lessons”. It’s nice to have everyone in on our joy, being that they have all been on this long, trying, and exhausting journey with us and are just as invested in these kiddos as we are. They’ve helped us through the really dark times when we thought there would never be any light to alleviate the sadness. They’ve been amazing and we’re extremely lucky. Everyone calls them “our babies”. One of my best friends Nikki texts us all the time, “How are our babies doing?” It’s actually really cute, comforting, and nice to know that we have such an amazing support system and so many people on our side.

This week was no different. Callie got home from work, kicked off her shoes, pet the kitty, gave hugs and kisses to Mary and asked about her day at summer camp, and was ready for her weekly snapshot. Let me not forget to mention that she peed about 3 times while all of this was happening. We set up the board and took our picture. The whole time, as usual, I’m thinking to myself, “Look at her smiling! She’s so happy! She is so damn beautiful! How did I get so lucky?” My best girl, in all her pregnant, baby carrying splendor. All mine! I hope our twinfants look like her. Freckles, beautiful green eyes, red hair (this week they are actually developing peach-fuzz on their bodies). I hope they are musically inclined like I am (thanks to our months of pouring over Latino donor profiles and waiting for the perfect one with a musical background, and not having webbed fingers anymore this week helps that too!). 2 healthy babies is all we can ask for. Until they’re here, I’ll keep marveling at what Callie is doing to her body for us. I’ll continue to assure her that as her belly grows and grows so does my heart and love for her, and that I have never been happier in my life. 10 weeks of babies, but a lifetime of love already…

That is NOT a penis…unfortunately!

Every time we go to an ultrasound appointment, I kind of hope that they’ll be able to tell me what gender my babies are.  I know that it’s technically not possible yet, but what’s wrong with hoping right? Our 9 week ultrasound was no exception!

We get into the room, the Dr. steps out, and my Callie goes through the usual routine.  She quickly undresses before the Dr. comes back in (they’ve probably seen that thing as many times as I have this past year and a half), throws her pants and underwear at me but not before she tucks the underwear into the folds of the pants as EVERY woman does when she goes to the GYN (why is that???), and sits on the table, excited as ever to see our tiny humans again. 

Sidebar: We opted out of our appointment last week because our Dr. was on vacation and rescheduled for this past Wednesday, only to find out that our Dr. was in his NYC office that day and we wouldn’t be seeing him anyway.  Fantastically enough, we got his assistant who allowed us to really spend some quality time watching our babies wiggling around. IT WAS AWESOME!!!

So Callie lays back, and no matter how “safe and sound” we know our babies are, there is still this little twinge of fear when they do the ultrasound and you’ve seen baby 1 and not baby 2.  You have no idea the wave of relief that comes when you see baby 2 and hear his/her heart beat (let’s say “his” in hopes that the God’s will hear me and grant me my one true wish!). I’ve been a good person for the better part of my adult life, paying it forward, lending a helping hand, and doing the best I can do.  A son to watch my NY Giants with would be the greatest blessing, but two healthy babies, regardless of gender, takes the cake.

Having my partner, our Foster daughter Mary, our kitty Gracie, our 3 birds (2 females), our rabbit, and myself, it’s fair to say that our house might as well be called Estrogenfest!  Imagine we have 2 girls?!?! I will probably make front page on the Daily News with the headline, “New Mama throws self from Tappan Zee Bridge because she did not have a son!”.  Still, we look at the monitor and see what’s going on.  I’m happy to say that there are still 2 little ones in there, cute as ever.  They actually have little bodies, and aren’t just bean-looking anymore.  There are heads, and noticeable little paddles for hands and feet, and the best part, no tail! We no longer have tadpoles but tiny humans, big heads and all! What a difference a week makes. But I see something in the image.  Something LONG and smack in the middle where genitalia should be.  I know it’s too soon to tell, but in my head I’m like, “OH, HELL YEAH! My son is PACKING!”. I know damn well it’s the cord! And then the Dr. confirms what I already knew , “And that’s just the cord, not the penis.” DEFLATED! I start cracking up, mainly because I was JUST thinking that, but also to hide that weird farty sound that balloons make when you let that last little bit of air out of them.  I guess the personalized infant NY Giants Jersey I have in my cart on the NFL store website to match mine will have to wait a few more weeks…hopefully…

My Babies are what size?

     I have come to find that Google can be your best friend or your worst enemy.  I have a headache that hasn’t subsided for 3 days.  Google tells me it could be cancer (GASP!) or I haven’t slept well enough.  If I have incessant dry mouth, thanks to Google, it’s Sjogren’s, HIV, dehydration, or side effects of THC.  Needless to say, it has been a great resource for finding information on all things “baby”.  The pro’s and con’s of disposable vs. cloth diapers, which bottles are the best, best pediatrician in my state and county, breastfeeding advice, and pretty much anything else you can think of, but my favorite so far has been knowing approximately what size my little ones are. 

     Every week since conception they are compared to a different fruit. Weeks 3&4 they were poppy seeds, week 5 we had apple seeds, week 6 (my all time favorite veggie) sweet peas, week 7 blueberries, and week 8 we had little raspberries.  But there was something about this fetal growth chart that bothered me.  Foods, especially fruit, can vary in size.  If you go to Stop and Shop, their strawberries and lemons are so small! Go ahead and go to BJ’s and their strawberries look like oranges in disguise! It was making me nuts, so i scoured the net a little more, and YESSSSS!!! I found it!!!!!! “Tarzan’s Ultimate Guide to Baby Sizes Week-by-Week For Soon To Be Fathers”. That’s what I’m talking about! I may not be a father, but I’m the next best thing, and this list doesn’t really leave much open for interpretation.  If my baby is the size of a quarter at 8 weeks, that really isn’t going to change much, is it? Or the head of a hammer (unless you bought you’re hammer at Ikea, which is abnormally small), or the size of a baseball, or a marble.  I found this to be über exciting! Callie has a reference point (she’s a foodie) and I have a reference point (hand-on ex construction worker, avid hiker, outdoorsy person that I am). Couldn’t be more perfect.  My week 9 babies (today actually) are the size of marbles, which I might be losing soon if Callie keeps moving around so much in bed at night! But for now, my little marbles are doing what they do, eating, resting, and growing all cozy and warm in mommy’s belly.

 

Link: http://www.hisboyscanswim.com/605/tarzans-ultimate-guide-to-baby-sizes-week-by-week-for-soon-to-be-fathers