Patience

Patience 

N. just celebrated his fourth birthday. Already he has been part of our family for two years and it's incredible the changes we have seen in him. In fact seeing him today and comparing him to two years ago it is like looking at two completely different boys. N. today is bright, intelligent, playful, meticulous, affectionate and his eyes shine with life. When he first came to us he was withdrawn, angry, isolated and you could sense that he wasn't behind his eyes. He had locked himself somewhere deep inside. He went through the motions of a hug, but you felt the ragdoll arms just going along with what you requested of him. Today he squeezes the breath out of me.

So... a lot changes with time. And this is where patience comes in. And hope. And love. And hard work. And commitment. But what we don't often hear about is the other side we don't want to admit. The doubt. And despair. And fear. Yes, these two years were filled with a lot of emotion to bring us to where we are now. 

Chosing to adopt a child through youth protection, you have very little illusions of what might await you. In fact, the social workers drum this into you before you even sign the foster parent agreement. And if you are at all like me, you've also read everything you can get your hands on about adopting children and all about THE word in the adoption field: Attachment. So based on what you have read, you are prepared to hold on for 6 months to a year for attachment to work its magic. You know the "tricks" that will help it along. But what you aren't ready for is how hard it can be as you wait. And how much you actually do while you wait. And how much you forget to be patient.

With our first son, K, he came from a very loving foster family experience. The house was filled with kids who adored him so we worked through the loss of his foster family as he transitioned, but he was very well primed for attachment. N., on the other hand spent a year in foster care where he was under-stimulated. His basic needs were met, but the "extra" was missing. 

As we worked to engage with him the first few months, we noticed things that troubled us. The first was that he didn't grieve his foster family. Or at least, not in the way K. had done. There were no tears, tantrums or any signs of upset at all. The first night he slept over (which we were primed for after K.'s hysterics) he just said, "good night" and rolled over. No tears, no asking for foster family. At bath time he wouldn't sit in the water. He stood up with his arms raised as if ready for just a quick scrub. At the park, I needed to show him what to do. As for hugs, the rag doll was what we got. 

We knew we were dealing with a child who hadn't been sufficiently stimulated, but as time went on we wondered what else might be going on. Knowing a bit of his mother's past there was a suspicion of fetal alcohol syndrome, though he didn't exhibit any physical signs at birth. As time went on and there were no real improvements, a continued lack of empathy, no improvement in his speech, continued aggression, we wondered if he might be autistic. Every little sign and symptom was read into. He walked on his tip toes, he didn't like to be held, physical stimulation bothered him, he displayed rigid, compulsive behaviours. 

As we brought these up to the social workers, new information about him and his development was discussed with us that confirmed our worries. We felt that this had been held back from us so that he would be placed. Our trust in our workers was shattered and they weren't able to give us any concrete help. 

N. was violent at times with K. Hitting, spitting and biting. He wouldn't answer when we called him. He would be sullen and withdrawn. At the dinner table it felt like there was the three of us and him.

We wondered if we had made a mistake.

This was really hard to admit and also part of the reason why I didn't write much about his transition to our family. I couldn't light-heartedly joke and write about what was happening. I just felt a sense of dread and fear of what our family was to become. 

Given that we didn't feel our social workers were much help, we reached out other ways. We spoke to our pediatrician. I got a session booked with a psychologist to look at what might be going on. We fought to have N. assessed for autism or other developmental delays. What came up was a severe lack of stimulation and significant speech delay. But in the light of little development despite our attempts, we still wondered what to do.

Truth be told, I had to do a lot of work on myself to be a good dad to him in this time. I had to work on the hurt of giving as much love as I could only to be rejected and having it thrown back in my face. I was starting to lose my empathy for him and this scared me. We were almost a year in the process and though we were still moving towards adoption, we had second thoughts: maybe we weren't the right family for him.

In one critical therapy session I actually got to the point where I verbalized this clearly and took in the implications of what this meant. I had to get over the guilt and shame of feeling this to actually have this truth out in the open. And having said it, I saw what I would need to do. I felt horrible, but at peace in a strange way. I finally had admitted to myself that I was not able to love this child the way I thought he needed. I was ready to let the workers know that we would work to find a better fit for him. But as I left the therapist's office and started my way home, I imagined what the house would be like without him. And I couldn't.  

The brief relief of thinking he would be in a better family was replaced with a sense of loss. And a better understanding of the pain he had been through. The reason why it was dangerous for him to love, and why he needed to reject my love to stay safe. I saw how I was imposing my love on him and working hard to get him to conform to my idea of family. In the hopes of forcing attachment, I wasn't letting him be. 

So I shifted. Internally, a new place formed where I could accept who he was and what he was living with. My love for him changed to no longer work to compensate what he lacked, but to just be present with him and to wait. I resolved to be patient. 

That very day as I walked in the door was the first time he ran into my arms to greet me.

From that day on, he would approach me. I quietly let him get to know me. His fingers would tentatively stroke my face, he'd look into my eyes with questioning. I simply would remain with him. I no longer tried to force the attachment by doing things for him and have him learn to depend on me. I let him try things on his own until he got frustrated and he'd ask me for help. I simply stopped trying so hard and let things unfold.

It seemed to work... today I can say it worked wonderfully.

He is now a secure little boy, filled with wonder at the world and quick to laugh and smile. He sings the alphabet and counts the steps on the way to daycare. He hugs his friends (when they don't try to take away his toys) and is loving. He trusts adults again and feels safe to be in the world.

So yes, hard work and time made this happen. And yes, we did fall into the "time delay" I had read about in those attachment books. But I had lost hope and patience. And a year to work on attachment is one thing to read, but when filled with endless minutes of heartache is difficult to bear. So I write this for other adoptive parents who might be feeling lost and overwhelmed and afraid to admit this to themselves. On the other side of all that pain, dread and hopelessness is family. Hold on, be patient, and get support. There is a child in there that will astonish you.

Courage

 Something I’ve heard often when I’ve shared with people that I’ve adopted children through youth protection services is how “courageous” I am. To be honest, it’s something that doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t take it as a compliment, though they mean it as one. I’ll tell them that it’s not courage that led me to adopt a child. In fact, as a gay man, adopting with youth protection is the only option available to me unless I’m willing to lie in order to adopt internationally or spend thousands of dollars on a surrogate (Elton John or NPH I am not) . So not much courage there, just a loss of other avenues. 

But they’ll go on and insist that I am indeed courageous. That it must not be easy to love someone else’s child, that the fear of losing them if their parents came back would be too much for them, etc. At this point I’ll mumble an uncomfortable thanks just to end the conversation. 

I’ve turned this over in my head many times as I keep hearing this word to describe my choice to adopt and the same malaise comes over me. Why? What could be so wrong with hearing that my choice to adopt is seen as a courageous one? Why can’t I swallow the compliment?

One day it finally came to me. The reason why people think it’s courageous to adopt is because they are afraid to open their hearts and homes to a child from youth protection, but why? Having done so myself (twice) I don’t see the fear involved. I see the joy that comes from building a family. Yes, the difficulties that come with working on attachment are there, but they’ll be there for any family. So why this situation in particular? 

The problem, I finally realized, is that people are afraid of the children themselves. And this is what is hurtful to me when I hear them talk about courage. What I hear is how afraid they are of the children I have taken into my life. How they would never be able to do so themselves and my mind goes to how many children the system will continue to fail and not place into permanent, loving homes due to this fear. And this is all based on ignorance and misinformation.

Of course, there’s tons of misinformation about adoption in general out there. When I tell people my two sons are adopted they ask what country they are from. I tell them they are from Montreal. They are incredulous. “I didn’t know you can adopt from here.” They kind of light up as they say this, thinking of themselves or other couples they know looking to adopt. “Yes,” I say, “through youth protection”. “Oh.” And that light in their eyes diminishes. 

In Dan Savage’s book “The Kid” which recounts he and his partner’s ordeals in becoming gay fathers he explains how he opted out of adopting from youth protection as he termed these children as “damaged goods”. 

Damaged goods. Good God, these are children we are referring to who have been failed by parents unwilling or unable to step in and take responsibility for providing a safe, nurturing home for them. Children who long for someone to care for them and are hurt and hurting and wounded. Children who continue to hope and yes, eventually lose that hope after too many adults have failed them. But what is truly damaged here? 

And in this mindset of damaged goods children who are somehow too tarnished to love, beliefs are created about how damaging, violent, aggressive, etc. they are. These beliefs create the need for courage in order to adopt them. These beliefs fuel the questions to me such as “if it doesn’t work out, can you send him back?”

“Shit, no, I lost the receipt.” 

And so it hurts me to hear that my choice to love my children is courageous. What I hear is your ignorance and inability to see beyond your limited belief. I hear you say things like how lucky I am that it worked out. That my children are lucky to have me. I’m seen as some form of saint. 

I’m not. I’m just a gay man who wants a family. And maybe because I had to overcome negative beliefs about being homosexual I’m more practiced at seeing through how hurtful and how false negative beliefs can be. I’m willing to challenge them.

What I am working up to here is a call to greater awareness. A call to overcome fear in order to respond to the needs of children living here, right here in our community who need homes. Maybe believing these children to be monsters helps the guilt for failing them? That it’s too late anyway?

Don’t let it be.

Daddy Diary 5 - One Month Already! (Jan 2009)

Hope the New Year has been going well so far for all of you. As for our little family, we've reached the one month anniversary of K.'s placement with us. Seems like it's been longer in some ways (can't remember life without him) and shorter in others (incredible how quickly he has adjusted to being with us). What has been great is that each day there is a new discovery, a new challenge and something to make us smile.

In terms of discoveries, K. comes up with them daily. He continues to develop his vocabulary and he has the words "hot" and "down" down pat. Though the word "hot" basically means anything that might be dangerous or anything that he can't touch. So Papa's computer is "hot". And as for "down", he helps make sure that the cat gets off the table if it ever jumps up - one day my head was turned and K. pointed his finger at the table and yelled, "down!". Sure enough, the cat was on the table and jumped down, suitably chastised... so at least we know that despite his limited vocabulary, K. is able to speak with other species.

Another discovery K. has made is all of his body parts and one in particular (one guess). He also has discovered that Daddy and Papa have the same body part and likes to make sure it's still there, especially when we're wearing our pyjama bottoms. This led to our discovery that K. needed his nails trimmed. :-) As for discoveries on my side, I guess you can say that I've been learning how to adjust to being the house husband with a toddler. It was rough finding things to keep him occupied until I realized that I could also go about my day and that he would just have to tag along. So he now watches as I do laundry, wash dishes, and cook (I made chocolate chip cookies and apple bread just to find something to keep him busy - I am sooo a Stepford Fag!). He also watches all my other activities that up until this point had been fairly private. So now when I shower I have a little face peeking in (and I do get flashes of Psycho when the shower curtain rustles) and K. is very much intrigued by the mechanics of elimination. I guess you can say that his potty training is beginning through modelling. Though I wish his observation wasn't quite so up close.

In terms of challenges, they are actually getting better overall. The tantrums have diminished and have downgraded to whining. Kind of like how a hurricane gets downgraded to a tropical storm. It's a relief, but you still have to board up the windows and sit tight. We are working on this though, and through Batshaw we have a parenting educator that comes in to give us advice from time to time. Some of it is useful, but other times it's like having a nagging in-law tell you how to parent your child. Our response has been to smile and nod and use what we feel works as best as possible. So far, it seems to be going well. We even had a few nights where K. waved goodnight to us from his bed and didn't howl as we left his room. (That was short lived though, the past two nights we are back to having to drop him back into bed after each time he climbs off of it). In fact the howling is so commonplace that when he is quiet we know he is up to no good (like climbing up on a chair and emptying all his drawers). And since he has trouble with sleep, we've had to make sure that if we drive back from an outing towards his bedtime, we have to keep him awake or else if he falls asleep in the car and is moved to bed, we'll have an hour of shrieking (as opposed to>the normal 20 minutes). So this saw me one time in the backseat next to him singing, "If you're happy and you know it shake your foot", and me shaking his leg repeatedly until we got home. Good times! heh. I'm now realizing the things parents have to do to get some peace. (So I can kind of forgive my mom for drugging my sister and I with Gravol so we would pass out on a very long car trip.)

As for things that make us smile, what I love is that he has a dance he does when I start my espresso machine in the morning. He sings along as the coffee beans are ground and shakes back and forth to simulate the grinding. Again, limited vocabulary,  but if you ever need someone to do a sound effect for a coffee grinder, he's your man.

In terms of the placement, we are supposed to have a meeting scheduled at Batshaw with the birthfather and all the social workers this week.This is for K.'s social worker so that he can file a complete adoptability report. We hope it goes well, but aren't quite sure what to expect. In the meantime, we're still having a visit from a social worker at least once a week. They will probably taper off to one visit every few weeks as they all have seen how well he is fitting in. K. has also gotten to meet extended family and little cousins and has managed to charm them all.

So all in all, life is going well, one month of parental leave already gone. 8 to go. Not missing work yet. (colleagues yes, but not thework) Though there are moments I would rather be sitting in a 3 hour advisory meeting rather than watching the wiggles for the umpteenth time. (oh, the good news is that K.'s tolerance of Barney the dinosaur is about as great as mine. 5 minutes in and he's already waving bye- bye to the screen!)

Anyway, want to say thanks to all who have been writing back and glad that you're enjoying these little moments when I have a chance to breathe.

Daddy Diary 4 - A New Year (Jan 2008)

Hope your 2009 started off well and will continue to be a good year for all.

As for us, we had a great holiday season, though it flew by so fast it was hard to notice that it happened. By the time the 24th rolled by, our little family had begun to establish a few set routines so now the coffees aren't getting quite so cold in the morning and K. is able to play on his own for a bit without needing to be in either Papa or Daddy's arms quite so much. We're still getting the occasional tantrum, though fewer and further between than the first week he was with us. Although what we miss in quantity, K. makes up for in quality cause when he does finally melt down, it's an impressive carpet rolling shrieking stamping affair and one minute feels like 30.However, these don't last as long as they actually feel, so we're all getting better at dealing with frustration. He is also getting used to us setting the rules for him and though he does test them (especially at nap time) our consistency is winning out in the long run.

Going to sleep is still an issue, but as of yesterday Greg and I have graduated to sleeping in our own bedroom again. We're letting K. get used to falling asleep on his own and though there are nights where he puts up a mega fuss, he does settle. He has his routine of bedtime story, some songs and then once his head hits the pillow, the fireworks start. We now leave the room and stay close to put him back to bed once he gets up, but as of this point, the sight of Greg or me at his gate is enough to get him to crawl back to his pillow (screaming all the while) but as long as he stays in his bed, we're happy. The only thing we would like to change is his early morning wake up call. He's usually up at 5 or 5:30, so even though I'm officially "off", my workday is going to start pretty early. There are the days when after a change and a bottle he will sleep a bit more, but those are the rare luxury. But all in all, we're glad we've moved from having him fall asleep in our arms to having him kick it out on his bed (our backs are grateful).

As for Christmas, K. had a great time meeting the family and we now know he has expensive tastes. Greg made a great meal on the 24th and K. enjoyed eating smoked salmon, liver pate, roast beef and a chocolate covered chestnut christmas log dessert. He also loved the presents. At first seeing all the boxes nicely wrapped was one thing, but once he realized there were things in them and that many of them were for him (in his mind, they were all for him), he at least got to help everyone open their gifts and once he found out it was something boring for someone else he moved to the next box. So the tantrums we were expecting didn't happen after all. In fact, my family thinks that K. is so well behaved and such a sweet little guy. Heh. what an actor!

After the holidays were done, he got to play with all his nice new noisy toys. Unfortunately, K. has figured out which ones have volume control and has learned how to bring more ambiance into our lives. Just picture a singing lawnmower with a happy shrieking toddler behind it and you'll get the idea.

What has also kept our sanity intact is youtube. Thank-god for the Mickey mouse clubhouse, baby beethoven (crack for babies!), and sesame street clips. K. is now able to spend at least 10 minutes in front of the screen enraptured by dancing babies and songs so repetitive and sweet that you will never get them out of your head ever again. Feist does a great do-over of 1-2-3-4 on

Sesame Street

and I love Andrea Bocelli and Elmo singing Time to say goodnight. I've even started doing the dance moves for some songs (Toot-toot chugga chugga big red car by the wiggles is my new favourite!)

But, the big test is about to face me. Greg goes off to work tomorrow (poor guy/lucK. guy). He'll be on his 3 day work schedule so he'll be back with me on Thursday and Friday. However, Thursday is my spa day. Time to treat myself to a hair cut and a massage. So I'll be downtown in the afternoon to drop off a card for my work mates on Thursday (sorry, won't be free at lunch time, but will be around 3 or so).

I've also started to look into some activities I could get K. involved in. Swimming could be cool, at least he'd be lighter to carry in a pool. :-)

Anyway, that's the news for now. Thinking of all of you and wishing you the best for 2009.

Daddy Diary 3 - Week One with K. (Dec 2008)

So it's been one full week since the little guy joined our family full- time. Hard to believe it's only been 7 days, and I gotta tell you, not going in to work, it's easy to lose track of what day is what, cause weekends look pretty much like any other day right now. Gone are the days where Greg could sleep in till 10 or later, we're into 5 am bottle time and we're lucK. if he falls back asleep until 7. So Greg and I are doing shifts so that we can balance out the sleep deficit.K. was used to sleeping in the same room as foster mom and he is a fitful sleeper. He wakes up often in the night (could be the transition, could be from earlier when he might not have been cared for), so we moved a futon into the room so we can sleep on the floor and be close if he needs a reassuring presence. (better than sleeping in the same bed which we both did at first - ever sleep with a toddler?? He's all quiet and cuddly and then all of a sudden this arm comes flailing up to knock you in the head or a leg comes kicking and you gotta dodge fast!) So even though we're safe on the futon this still just translates into us sleeping in 20 minute shifts as again, each little noise could be the precursor to a huge wake-up cry (and those often last 45 minutes or so). So far this seems to be working out, but we will eventually ease out and be back in our own room. We don't want to make too many changes all at once and will slowly get him used to sleeping alone. The first few nights were really hard at bedtime, he would rage for an hour, but after some advice from foster mom and after developing our own routine, he settles down fairly well.We sing songs in his room and hope that he falls asleep before we do.Nap time is our next new challenge. Today we did a super nanny move and sat in his room and let him tantrum on his bed until he tired himself out. Then we were there to reassure him and he slept soundly.I've also got a timer on so that after lunch when he hears the beeps he knows nap time is coming. See, watching reality TV does teach you something!

Aside from that, last week K. had his first haircut which went really well. The salon only does kids and was empty at 10 am on Wednesday morning (go figure) and every chair was a car, he was thrilled and so were we. So now he looks more like a little man than a chia pet. We even got a certificate and a baggie with his first lock of hair as a keepsake.

The other thing we are getting to deal with now is regular toddler tantrums. He's not crying for mama as much and is happy to have us be there to comfort him, so the attachment aspect is going well. Now it's just the behavioral parts to manage. Last few days he would go into full Exorcist mode with head shaking, demon screaming and rolling in convulsions on the floor. What might set him off is us telling him he took too much food into his mouth, that the dog is not a squeeze toy or that looking like a wrinkled prune does mean that bath time is over. But we have seen some improvement. He is no longer rolling on the floor, but stamping his feet and then coming back to us for a hug right after. So we're working hard on keeping consistent limits and hope that these tantrums now pay off when he's 16 (they do, right Susan?)

As for eating, this kid is non-stop. We're filling him with as many fruits as we can but man, this kid eats! And that means the inevitable other process goes on as well. So Greg and I are pros in diaper duty and I have now learned that what is true for corn is also true for black olives (that one was for you Dilshad!).

Our house continues to look like hurricane Katrina ripped down a toys r us and a restaurant and laundromat in one shot. Thank god both of us are at home to manage things and get a handle before it completely takes over. I'm just anticipating what it's going to be when Greg goes back to work!

But we both feel lucky. to have this little guy in our lives. Spending the holidays with him will be a great gift.