Jazzie and Tahlia

Alone and misunderstood

The following post is hard for me to write. I thought long and hard before even starting it. Why? Because I am about to share some negative feelings I had about my husband last week. Before I go on, I want to make sure that I start by saying that I love my husband more than anything. He is a wonderful man, father and husband. I am lucky to have him and my life would not be complete without him.

I am not sure why I feel so guilty about writing anything negative about him. I share the good and the bad about Jazzie and Tahlia here all the time, so why is sharing something negative about my husband any different?

Last week was a difficult week for me with the girls being sick. I did not get a lot of sleep, my day was filled with playing nurse and at times I was so very frustrated that I did not act in a way I would have liked. Yes, I yelled at my girls. Even when they were sick as a dog. Exhaustion and frustration don't mix well for me and I have yet to find a way to better handle it. In the midst of it all, I felt completely alone. I wanted Matt to reach out and say things like: "Let me take care of it". "Let me handle it". "Can I do anything"? An encouraging word, an encouraging gesture, anything. For some reason there wasn't anything like it. At least not that I remember. One night when I was at the end of my rope with Jazzie, I couldn't stand it any longer and I cried. No, I sobbed. I was so tired, so frustrated and I felt so alone. At that moment I wanted that encouraging gesture or those encouraging words from my husband more than anything, but all he said was: "You need to pull yourself together".

WTF??? You think?!?!?!?!?

Not what I needed or wanted to hear. Again, I felt completely alone.

After writing this post about feeling alone during our difficult times with Tahlia, I was hoping that Matt (who reads this blog every day) would have a better understanding of my feelings and emotions during that time. Maybe it was naive of me to think that he would read it and come to me and say something along the lines of: "I'm sorry I wasn't there in a way you needed me to be there", or "I'm sorry that was such a hard time, but I think you did a great job", but instead I got: "It was just two people with two different views on the situation", or something like that. Again, not what I was hoping to hear and once again, I felt completely alone and misunderstood in a situation that happened about 3 years ago. Obviously, I have not come to terms with it. Like a friend wrote in an e-mail recently: you cannot go through a situation like that and expect to come out of it unscathed.

Obviously I have not...

I do want to end this post on a happy note and say once again how much I love Matt - through the good times and the bad. Fortunately we have MANY more good times than bad ones. We will be celebrating our 11th wedding anniversary next week and I would marry him all over again...

Tahlia

I love this girl, but yesterday she almost drove me insane with her whining. I am not sure what is going on her, because she is usually not like that. Maybe she is still getting over being sick. Whatever the reason, I hope she gets back to her nice old self again soon...

  

Look at that face. I just want to eat her ;-)

  

This girl really is a joy and it is hard to imagine that when she first came home, we had SUCH a hard time with her. My friend PIPO has been blogging about her first week home with her little PIPA. Reading about her struggle brought me right back to when we first brought Tahlia home. It still amazes me at times that the pain of that time is still pretty close to the surface. Just reading PIPO's words made me relive my own experience. We struggled for 18 months. 18 months...

I still don't know how I made it through and I wonder if I will ever forget it. A recent exchange of e-mails with a friend has really made me think of that time again and I realize that those 18 months are still affecting me. Not like it was when I was in the midst of it of course, but it still is to an extent. Matt and I were talking about it last night and he agreed that I have not resolved that issue within myself. I still have not come to terms with it. I still have guilt that I carry from some of the things I said or thought. I can still get angry over some of the things that happened then, even though they happened almost three years ago. I cannot let go of them. Every time I walk into Tahlia's room I have flashes of the mattress being on the floor which was there for months when I was trying to gain Tahlia's trust during her crying and screaming fits. I remember trying to hold in my sobs of frustration, because I didn't want Tahlia to wake up. I remember being so angry that I had to be there on the floor because there were so many other things that needed to be done. I remember falling asleep on the mattress one night and Matt waking me up because Jazzie wanted to tell me goodnight and I remember the resentment I felt towards him for not just letting me sleep there, because he knew how utterly exhausted I was. I remember being angry at Tahlia for not letting Matt help her/hold her/comfort her and I remember being angry at Matt because I felt he wasn't trying hard enough. I understand it wasn't easy for him either. Being rejected all the time and being vomited on (which is what Tahlia did to him ALL the time), was hard on him; I know that. But I felt completely alone during that time because I had nobody else to help me. Not Matt, not my parents, nobody. I felt then (and still feel) that Matt could have just dealt with her for a couple of hours on the weekend when I was out by myself, desperate for a break, instead of calling me on the phone to come home because Tahlia was screaming and crying. It was infuriating to me because he couldn't deal with it for a couple of hours when I was dealing with it every single day and night.

After reading this post over at Life as I Know It, I realized that I am one of those people that Susan is describing in this part of her post:

"I saw a counselor not too long ago and she kept saying, “people like you,” “people who are in your position,” “those who act like you.”   People like me is people who think they have to be in constant control of everything or they are failing.  People who can’t say no for fear of letting others down.  People who soothe themselves when no one else can or will.  Maybe others can’t or won’t because people like me don’t give them the opportunity."

This paragraph really jumped out at me. I read it several times, because it hit home for me. I do have a tendency to want to be in control of things. And not being able to be in control of the situation with Tahlia did a real number on me. It made me be out of control of myself and that is where my weight issue stems from. I know this now and I am happy to say that I have made a real effort to regain control of myself. I have lost almost 7 pounds and doing things that I know are things I have to do for a better me.

So thank you to Susan and my friend who poured her heart out to me and I to her (you know who you are). Your written words have helped me start on the road to a better and healthier me.
And thank you to my girl Tahlia who has taught me a lot about myself ever since I saw her face for the very first time.

 

Now I know...

I didn't always know it, but I love my sweet Tahlia.

We started out walking a tough road and in the beginning of our time together, I often doubted my love for her. However, now I know without a doubt that I have nothing but love for this girl in my heart.

When she was so needy in the very beginning and I couldn't put her down for even a second, I often resented her and thought that she was being selfish (silly, I know; she was just a baby). Now I know that she is one of the most selfless people I know. For as little as she is, this girl thinks about others and other people's feelings before her own.

During those tough early times, I couldn't help but think how she was disrupting our lives. Now I know she is the first one to try and make peace whenever there is a disruption.

During the first year of us being together, I had a hard time trying to understand who this girl was. Now I know she is smart, loving, giving, sweet and full of imagination.

When I first saw her referral picture, I had a lot of negative emotions. There was no love there right away. It is painful to admit that I thought she was ugly. It is hard typing that word. I have erased it and re-typed it several times. But it is how I felt. Now I know that she is nothing but beautiful with the sweetest smile, most amazing eyes and the softest cheeks :-)

I didn't know it then, but this girl is one of my most wonderful blessings...

 

Moms helping moms

I called a friend this morning and when I asked her how she was doing, she broke down in tears. It turned out that she is having a bit of a rough time with everything. She is the busy mom of three kids, one of them being only 4 months old. The baby is not sleeping and therefor she is not sleeping. My heart went out to her, because I remember being so sleep deprived and being so desperate to try to find a way to have Tahlia (and me) sleep. Hearing her sobs brought me right back to my own PAD desperation. I told her I would come and get her two other kids so that she could have a little break.

Before going over I bought some flowers to cheer her up and wrapped up a piece of pumpkin bread that Tahlia and I baked yesterday. When I walked into her house, I saw the laundry piled up in the laundry room, toys everywhere, dishes piled in the sink and my friend's eyes red and swollen from crying. I felt so bad for her, because I've been there. All I knew to do was give my friend a big hug and tell her what an incredible mom I think she is.

So, if you know a mom who is feeling overwhelmed and stressed out, do something to help her out or cheer her up. Being a mom is not always easy. As a matter of fact, it can often be extremely difficult. As someone who has been so desperate to the point that I was afraid for myself and my child, I know that a helping hand or a kind gesture will be so appreciated. Us moms need to stick together, support each other and help each other out. I only hope that I was able to make life a little easier for my friend today, if only for a little while.

Rocking

Recently, Lisa over at Life With Briana wrote a beautiful post about rocking her baby to sleep. If you haven't read it, you really should; it is here. That particular post made me cry. It made me cry because I could relate to Lisa's overwhelming love for her child and it reminded me of the days that I used to rock my own babies.

Right around the time that Lisa wrote her post, Tahlia wasn't feeling well and she actually asked me to rock her. Of course I happily complied. I sat there with her for quite a while, just enjoying rocking and holding my baby girl and I thought to myself that rocking a child is truly one of the most wonderful things that motherhood has to offer. Unfortunately for me, rocking Tahlia became one of the worst moments of the day after we first brought her home.

While in the midst of my Post Adoption Depression, I had a hard time enjoying rocking Tahlia at night; as a matter of fact, I hated it because I knew that the worst part of my day with her was yet to come. I would be exhausted from carrying her around everywhere because she would not let me out of her sight for even a second, and I knew that I was going to be in for yet another night of almost constant screaming. I struggled with trying desperately to enjoy rocking my baby and resenting her at the same time for not giving me a moment's rest. Each night as I sat in that rocking chair, I struggled to hold in my sobs as I did not want to wake Tahlia and I did not want Matt to know how much I was struggling. I would rock and rock, being afraid to get up to put Tahlia in her bed, because it would probably wake her up and I would have to start all over again.  I can still hear the noise the rocker made every time it slid back and forth; I sat in that chair for hours each and every night. It wasn't enjoyable for me; it was one of the most miserable times of my life.

So when I read Lisa's post, I just thought about how sad it was that I was not able to enjoy rocking my Tahlia when she was little. Many, many nights I wished that I didn't have to sit in that rocking chair... How I wish it could have been different. How I wish I could have felt then how Lisa feels now. But that is not what it was like for me. Just look at what a sweet little peanut Tahlia was...

 

I wish I would have been able to enjoy her more and that I would not have been consumed by PAD. However, the moment whenTahlia asked to be rocked when she wasn't feeling well was wonderful. I enjoyed every moment of it, wanting to remember those wonderful feelings when rocking her as much as I remember the bad ones. I am not sure if I will ever forget the bad ones, but Tahlia has given me many, many happy moments over the past two and a half years which are pushing the bad ones further and further back in my memory.

The picture below was taken in the midst of my PAD turmoil during which I doubted my love for her many, many times. However, it is one of my very favorite pictures of the two of us together and when I look at it, I see a happy girl and a mama who loves her a lot; it just took me a while to know it.

Today is brought to you by the letter "Pee"

My morning has been all about pee so far. Last night when Matt and I went to bed, we realized someone had peed on our bed. It must have been the dog. She has NEVER done anything like that before and I am still scratching my head as to what happened. Then this morning Jazzie woke up all wet. Up until about a month ago, Jazzie was still wetting the bed at night and wearing a pull-up to bed. But then she kept her pull-up dry for two weeks straight and she has been sleeping without a pull-up since then. However, every now and then she will still have an accident (like last night). Never mind that I just changed her sheets yesterday; I will be doing it again this morning. And to top things off, Tahlia didn't make it to the bathroom in time this morning and peed all over the bathroom floor! Enough with the pee already...

Tahlia was up quite a bit last night, because her ear was hurting. She has been complaining about her ear every time it gets wet and this morning I noticed that her right ear was draining. At least we know her ear tube is still working. I have a call into the doctor's office, so we will see what happens.

Being up with Tahlia for most of the night was tough. It reminded me of the time when we first came home with Tahlia and she would scream and cry for hours at night. Last night was hard, but we used to do this with Tahlia every.single.night for almost a year. I still don't know how Matt and I ever survived that time. I am reminded of this post that I wrote about a year after coming home with Tahlia. Last night brought back a lot of emotions from that time and it was a reminder of how tough it really was. It amazes me how real and deep my emotions from that time can still be today.

And now I am off to the laundry room. It is once again looking like this again...

How could I have ever...

Tahlia and I went to the mall today and I had such a great time with my girl. We shopped some and then had lunch together. During lunch, she kept talking about the things she was seeing, how good her chicken was, how happy she was with her new clothes I just bought her and how much she loved her new pink Crocks. As she was putting a french fry in her mouth with one hand, she put her other hand in mine and continued eating her lunch that way.

My heart just overflowed with love for her and I started to wonder:

How could I have ever said that I wasn't sure if I loved this child when I first saw her referral pictures?

How could I have ever resented her after first coming home from China?

How could I have ever wondered if we had made a mistake adopting another child?

How could I have ever wished that she wasn't there?

How could I have ever doubted my love for her?

How could I have ever doubted her love for me?

Post Adoption Depression did a real number on me, but when I looked at Tahlia today at lunch, there was no doubt in my mind as to how much I love this child. She was meant to be ours and adopting her was one of the best things we ever did. I love this girl and she loves me. It took almost two years to overcome the worst of my PAD. I am not even sure if I have overcome it completely, but I do know one thing: I could not love Tahlia any more than if I had given birth to her. She is my daughter and I am her mother in every sense that is important. If I had only known then what I know now...

I recently read a blog post by a woman suffering from PAD and just reading it brought back my own pain and frustration. I wanted to reach through the computer screen and hug this woman, because I know what she is living. But I also wanted to tell her that things will get better. That she will overcome this. That there is help out there. This topic is so important to me, because I never even realized that Post Adoption Depression existed. It is hard enough dealing with the pain and the guilt, but knowing that PAD exists, that it is real and that quite a lot of other women from it, at least makes you feel like you are not alone; that you are not a bad and terrible person and mother.

It took quite a long time for me to realize that I am not a bad person/mother, but I do still need reminders of it every now and then. I got that reminder today in the mall, while eating lunch with my sweet, wonderful and amazing daughter. Thank you for that, Tahlia...

Three words Sunday

Every now and then I get an e-mail from someone who read my post on Post Adoption Depression (Is P.A.D. real?). I wrote that post in August of 2006 (and used the same picture) and I am amazed at how many people still refer to it and how often someone will e-mail me to ask where to find that post. Just this week I got three separate e-mails from women who are dealing with P.A.D., but are afraid to talk about it because not everyone believes that P.A.D. is real. I just have three very simple words in response to that: P.A.D. IS real. I've lived it and I often wonder if I have completely overcome it.

With Tahlia not feeling well this week, she has been waking up a lot at night and she has been more clingy than normal. These two things have taken me back to the height of my P.A.D several times this week and it didn't take much for my tears to fall when thinking about those first 18 months home. I was surprised at how raw it still is.

However, I was lying next to Tahlia in her bed the other night because she was upset and not feeling well and I started thinking about the many, many nights I had to sleep next to her when we first came home. The difference between then and the other night is that back then I fought back the tears while trying to comfort Tahlia, I resented her for crying, I tried hard to feel love and understanding towards her and I just absolutely did not want to be with her at all.  The other night I felt nothing but love and understanding for my girl and I didn't care if I had to stay in her bed all night long, as long as she felt safe and better.

Tahlia and I have come a long way and I am happy to know that people continue to get something out of my posts on P.A.D. Opening up about it has ended up being one of the best things I could have done for myself, but obviously for others as well.

Is P.A.D. real?

I was talking to a group of moms the other day and the subject of Post Partum Depression came up. One of the moms told me she had heard of Post Adoption Depression and wanted to know if it was real. Without going into too many details with these women, I told them that it was very real, since I lived it. I have blogged before about how the first 8 months after returning home from China with Tahlia were difficult. Truth be told, they were some of the most difficult months of my life. Sometimes I wonder if I have even completely overcome it.  I am still trying to come to terms with what happened to me and I thought that blogging about it once again might help me and maybe even someone else. Those first 6-8 months were supposed to be a time filled with happiness, new discoveries and love. I am not talking about love for Tahlia. I loved her since the very first moment she was placed in my arms. I am talking about a love or life, a love for motherhood and a love for myself. I had none of those. I used to rock Tahlia to sleep at night with tears streaming down my face and with me trying to hold in the sobs that I so desperately wanted to let out. But I didn't want to wake Tahlia and at first I was trying to hide my feelings from Matt. The lack of sleep took a major toll on me and the constant clinging of Tahlia even more so. I remember hearing about a case of Shaken Baby Syndrome and understanding how something like that could happen. I can so understand someone being pushed to a point where he or she just snaps. That might sound terrible to some of you, but I can see how it might happen. During those first 8 months, that used to be my biggest fear. I was so afraid that I was going to do something to hurt Tahlia. I remember Matt being out of town one week and we were still in that time where Tahlia would scream and cry for hours and hours at a time. It was about 3 A.M. and I had been trying to soothe Tahlia since before midnight. I was exhausted because she would do this every night. Matt wasn't there to help me and I was at the end of my rope. I remember putting Tahlia in her crib and going outside. I sat outside in my bathrobe, on the front porch just sobbing. I wanted to run away, hide in a dark hole and never come out. I don't know how I got myself together, but I eventually did and by the time I got back inside, Tahlia had cried herself to sleep. That morning I called our social worker to tell her how I was feeling and that I needed help. She got it for me and things got better.

It is funny how I can still feel all the emotions I had during that time. Just typing all this takes me right back there. Like I said, I am still trying to sort through all this myself...I recently read an article in Adoptive Families Magazine. The author was describing a very similar experience to the one we had. His newly adopted daughter would cry and cry at night and it all sounded so familiar to me: The tiptoe-ing through the hall after finally getting to Tahlia to sleep, being so scared to wake her up again. The holding of our breaths as Matt and I finally laid back down to go to sleep, because we were expecting Tahlia to start crying again any minute. The clinging to each other for hopes of Tahlia staying quiet...Tahlia has been sleeping through the night for several months now and the memories of those first months are starting to fade a little bit. I am loving life again, I love being a mother - well, most of the time ;-) and I am learning to love myself again. I am still struggling with guilt. Oh, the guilt that comes along with motherhood is something I just cannot describe. But then I look at a picture like the one above and I see a woman who looks happy. A woman with a few more wrinkles on her face than 5 years ago, but a woman with two beautiful daughters and one amazing and supportive husband. Together with her husband she is turning these two beautiful daughters into two great kids and I am proud of that.

Almost been a year..

In just a couple of weeks it will be one year since Tahlia joined our family. I have not talked about our transition much with a lot of people, but it was a very difficult one. We adopted Tahlia when she was one year old (her birthday was on our last day in China) and brought her home at the end of July of last year. Jazzie was almost 3 at the time. Besides dealing with jealousy and the enormous acting out of Jazzie, we also dealt with a baby who suffered from post traumatic stress disorder (we didn't find this out until much later). Because of that, she was extremely clingy to me and had a lot of trouble sleeping. I could not put her down or leave the room for even a moment. She would wake up screaming (and I mean screaming) for me. She would do this 6 to 10 times a night. After six of months of this I was exhausted and at the end of my rope. There were definitely times where I wondered what we had done to our family by adopting another child. I am not ashamed to say that I too suffered from post adoption stress syndrome and it is not a good place to be. I was hearing all these stories from people in our travel group who were so in love with their children and their lives were just wonderful. Well, mine wasn't. I had a tough time coping. I cried every day for several months, just because I was exhausted from sleep deprivation and the fact that I could not get a break for even a minute. I was completely overwhelmed taking care of two children, one of whom did not like her new little sister at all and wasn't afraid to let us know it, and the other one who would not let me sit back, relax and breath for even a moment...not even at night. However, here we are now just shy of a year and things are good. Not perfect, but good. I remember someone telling me once that it took almost a year for her to feel like a family again after adopting her second child. At the time I heard that I just hoped and prayed that it wouldn't take that long for us, but it did. After talking with some professionals, we came up with specific strategies to deal with Tahlia's post traumatic stress disorder and my PAD. Tahlia is now sleeping through the night, but still has trouble going to sleep on her own. She is still not 100% okay with me leaving, but she has finally accepted her daddy and has let him in 100%. Jazzie loves Tahlia. They do everything together and genuinely enjoy hanging out together. I look at them now and I feel so blessed to have these girls. Did I regret having them?? NO, not ever! Have I been frustrated to the point where I wanted to run away and hide? Many times... Am I amazed at how much love I feel for my little girls and how much love they give me? Every day....

I hope this post doesn't sound too negative. That is not my intention. I love Talley to pieces, but I want to be honest in saying that this second adoption has not been easy for us. Unfortunately, people don't often talk about when things are bad. I was so surprised to find out how many other women feel or felt the way that I did when I was at my lowest. I am not ashamed anymore to admit that I struggled. Really struggled for about 7 months. But the guilt was keeping me from seeking out help. Luckily I finally did get some help and things are so much better! So if anyone is reading this and is struggling - please get help; it will be the best thing you ever did for yourself and your family. Oh and one other bit of advice: Do not move to a new house a week and a half after returning home from China. We did and it was not optimal ;-)