You, Me, and Us

 

We've all spent the last week changing.  Each one of the members of my family has had quite a week as we noticeably have started falling into our new normal.  With that new normal comes some inherent changes in each of us.

Little Bro and Little Bug are no longer only children.  For the first 2 weeks, they both, in their own way, resisted this change.  But in the last week, both boys have started embracing their roles as brothers.  Little Bug is becoming more tolerant (and even, dare I say it, empathetic) to Little Bro's transition and normal demands on our time and attention.  He is learning to give him space when he needs it.  He is beginning to accept that we can't always read his favorite book at night first or watch Yo Gabba Gabba's Train episode all the time.  He is beginning to explore this whole "big boy versus little boy" idea, which is helping him with some independent play skills.  Hopefully it will also one day help him stop from trying to "sit on Little Bo" because the reality is we really do have one BIG boy and one LITTLE boy.

Little Bro came out of his personal hell stronger and braver than I could have imagined.  It humbles me when I think of the strength and resilience my sons have already had to dig deep for in their little lives.  Although they won't remember it, the lingering effects, both good and bad, will always be with them.  I truly believe that.

Little Bro is embracing us as people he likes, trusts, and wants to be with.  As is normal, sometimes he pulls back, but in general, this week we've seen more of the real Little Bro, the fiery, fast, funny, and curious child we met in Seoul.  He has started giving all of us (including his big brother) unprompted hugs, and he and I are developing a pretty tender and intimate sleep routine that fosters a lot of attachment.  Things that were too intimate for him before (like brushing teeth, changing clothes or diapers, giving medicine) are now less trauma and more just a typical toddler affront to life.  He's started throwing tantrums again, as opposed to grieving, which is oddly encouraging.  In the biggest hallelujah, he's started eating solids for us.  That alone is a HUGE step. Just in general, he seems happier, more comfortable, and less like he is desperately wishing for something he won't be able to have again.

Appa is, not surprisingly, doing best of us all.  He's an emotions-close-to-the-vest kind of guy, but watching Little Bro literally loss his will to exist last weekend was an eye-opening experience for him, I think.  Even then, he was the rock who spread himself thin so that he could focus on Little Bug while still taking care of me while I focused on Little Bro.  At one point, during a dark day, I looked over at him and thought "Thank God this is the man who I picked to be the father to my babies."  He's a keeper, my Appa.

And me....I'm doing better than I expected, with everything but blogging, that is.  Living life is getting easier and more normal, but writing about it is still a bit tedious.  After my serious bout with post-adoption depression last time, I've been watching and examining myself for any indications of those feelings so I could deal with them immediately.  Surprisingly, other than the very normal, sleep deprived "THIS IS THE WORST MOMENT OF MY LIFE"  feelings during the late nights while watching my sweet son shatter into a million sad pieces, I haven't felt the feelings I did last time.  I think a large part of it is due to already being a mother, so the jolting loss of freedom isn't there this time.  I think is also helps that Little Bro is older and more engaging.  In short, bringing home a baby was slightly boring and gave me more time to stew in depression, while this time Little Bro, at 22 months, is able to immediately interact in a more meaningful and fun way (although as I write this he is zoning out to Phung Phungie).  

With Little Bro's grief aside, the hardest thing has been trying to find balance.  I have found that my identity now is not the mother of two little boys, but rather, as Little Bug's mother and Little Bro's mother and Appa's wife and myself...each role needing its own attention and not a simple lump together.  The reality is that two-child shopping cart I have been eying out  for the last year is actually really cumbersome to push.  You can't easily go one way on a whim, instead you have to position the whole darn thing and slowly make your turns. 

And that is my life right now...slowly making the turns that lead my whole family in a new direction. But that's not a bad thing.

Seeing Him

My sister and I had a long talk recently about seeing your children, the very physical idea that although we look at our kids all day long, we sometimes stop seeing them. I think a big problem I had with my attachment to Little Bug was that although my eyes would meet his, my mind was far away. I wasn't in the moment with him, and I think that although he got plenty of time looking into my eyes, what he probably saw was far away thoughts and not a mama's adoring love.

I've been really mindful of this lately. I make time each afternoon to gaze into my kid's eyes as we play on a bed or heap of pillows. I try to take a moment or two in the car after I buckle him in to look into his eyes and smile a really genuine smile. I make sure that I am talking to him, not at him.

I'm hoping to master this ability to see my child each day before Little Bro comes home. I want to be able to be more than just a mom for my children; I want to be a mom to them. I want Little Bug to know, even at his little toddler age, that what he has to say is important to me and that I love being in his presence.

It's not easy, especially when I am tired, bored, depressed, angry, busy, or any number of the other factors that shape my day. It's so much easier to look at him and talk at him without taking the time to shift my energy into him.

But he's the most important little person in my life, and I want him to grow up seeing that.

My Grin

Even close to 2 years into this motherhood gig, I still have moments of ebbs and flows. Honestly, I have a lot of moments where I don't 100% love being a mom. For whatever reasons it might be at the time, sometimes it's hard for me to enjoy everything about the precious time I have with my son.

For a variety of reasons, I've been thinking a lot about my post adoption depression lately and the impact it had on my attachment to Little Bug and his attachment to me. Over the past month or so, I've challenged myself to be less complacent with the relationship my son and I have, because when it comes right down to it, I wasn't 100% happy with where it was. I've been actively working on attachment games and activities. Even though we're well enough attached to each other already, I realized there is always room for improvement. Over the last 2 weeks, I have noticed a marked increase in the ease and physicality of our relationship.

And today it manifested in spades. Little Bug and I had a wonderful day filled with choo choos, animals, and more choo choos. All throughout the day we would turn to me and flash this radiant smile...not directed at whatever we were doing or seeing, but a smile clearly just for me. He would crawl on me and hug me for no reason. He spent nearly an hour dragging me from toy to toy, wanting only to play with me.

And better yet, I loved every second of it. It was hot, crowded, tiring, and done all without Appa, and I didn't look at the clock once. I enjoyed every moment of my role as mother today. That's been happening a lot lately, too.

Tomorrow might suck and I might want to tell my kid to "shut up" again, but those days will happen no matter what. I just don't want to forget today...ever.

I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggone It, Little Bug Likes Me!

Some days, deep in my heart, I think Little Bug loves Appa a lot more than he loves me. They share a special bond, and Little Bug is undeniably a "daddy's boy." Of course, this often hurts my feelings, even though I know it shouldn't. I worry that perhaps my post adoption blues and inability to really bond with Little Bug early on irreparably limited the love he could have for me in comparisons to Appa.

Other days, I don't feel that way...as much.

This week two things happened that really changed the way I see Little Bug's connection to me. The first was after a feeding session at school. As usual, I gave him a kiss and started to leave and he freaked out. Like, huge, real, anguished tears. It apparently took a while to calm him down.

I'm not going to lie and say it made me feel really bad (but it did make me feel moderately bad). Instead, it made me feel good. Never once has Little Bug cried when I've left him at school (although I don't do that often). It actually, in a sick and twisted way, made me feel really happy that he wanted me to be there.

Second, the Blogging Gods read my braggy post about my "kid's kick a@@ immune system"...I am sure it is obvious where this is going. Last night's high fever, croupy cough, and lack of sleep drama was so brutal that I cried all the way to work. Appa took the morning off to tend to Little Bug and I came home at noon to take over. Instead of taking the desperately needed nap, Little Bug wanted to be on me or next to me....all the time. For 4.5 hours my usually curious and active little 2 year old sat next to me on the couch, his head resting on the arm I wrapped around his warm body. At one point, he laid his head on my lap and finally took some sleep. It was overly apparent that the only thing Little Bug wanted today was his mama. Even after Appa came home, Little Bug would continue to crawl up next to me to cuddle in. It was actually so pathetic, I feel a slight twinge of guilt at taking such supreme enjoyment out of it.

Appa, who knows my inner doubts and is so good about lifting me up, looked over at us at one point and said "See, all he wants is his mother. You comfort him."

And I do. Even though I am the mama who wasn't exactly emotionally there for him in the beginning and even though I am the mama who is always the one cracking the therapy whip and building and reinforcing the boundaries and starting the time outs and saying no to "more" of whatever junk Appa has been sneaking him....

...I am also the mama who he wants to cuddle into every time he is sick or tired or scared. I am the mama he asks to sing his favorite songs his favorite way and the only mama who can tickle him to illicit both the cutest laugh AND a plea for more. I'm the mama who is always the first to pick up on a new word or a new sign, and I am the mama who "shakes your booty" with him every night. Despite it all, I am his mama.

And just like every other part of my attachment/motherhood process, I feel a shift after today that I know is permanent for me. Another little lingering doubt floating in the back of my head that has resolved itself. It's a wonderful feeling.

So, since my sick baby literally just woke up crying in pain, I'm off to comfort him into the wee hours of the morning. Kinda looking forward to it, actually.

"How Are Things Now"

Today I had the chance to go to a day long adoption conference. I attended four sessions and a keynote. It was fantastic and my head and soul are overflowing tonight. In the next week, I will take a couple posts and summarize the sessions I went to for those who might be interested (and as a way for me to solidify my own comprehension).

However, the most significant thing that happened there today had nothing to do with any of the sessions I attended. I was shocked to find when I got to the conference this morning that Karen J. Foli would be speaking on her book, The Post Adoption Blues.

That book and her website were the two things that showed me 7 months after Little Bug came home what I was feeling and helped me make peace with myself and move past it. I seriously credit her brave work (because she herself wrote the book and did her research born from her own experiences) with giving me the tools and emotional frame of mind to move past my sometimes-debilitating post adoption blues.

I didn't know how or when, but I knew I needed to tell her that.

Turns out my chance came as she was on her way to the bathroom. In the hallway I stopped her and told her through my instant tears and lumped throat that her book changed.my.life. Her response was a gracious and sincere "thank you" and then she asked something that took me aback.

"How are things now?"

That might seem like a normal question, or perhaps it might seem overly personal. But in that moment we were two mothers who totally GOT each other, and I knew what she meant. She was not asking if everything was "cured" or "fixed," and she wasn't asking about Little Bug. She was asking about me, and how my attitude was.

My response was whispered but automatic.

"Wonderful."

And they are...the things in my life...they are wonderful. I had a very personal post I wrote yesterday in response to the outcomes of our big meeting, but I think I am going to hold off on pushing the publish button for a little while longer and chew it over more. Today put so much in perspective for me and gave me a refreshed look on life.

So yes, there are things in my life that are hard and a constant struggles and frustrating and will continue to be an uphill battle, but overall, where it matters, thing are wonderful.

Thank you for asking, Karen. Thank you.

Fall

Fall.

I've only recently in the last few years come to truly appreciate Fall. I've always been lucky enough to live in areas where Fall is a real season with crisp air, deep shaded leaves, and that special moment before it gets dark where you can almost feel the season changing little by little. In the last few years I have taken the time to enjoy this unique period of the year.

A couple nights ago I was outside getting something from our car and took a couple minutes to stand out in our driveway. It was twilight and the first of the leaves on our neighbor's tree were turning. There was this electricity in the air (probably from the electrical storm we had later that night), and the whole atmosphere felt very alive. I just stood there and took it all in.

I was thinking about that moment this morning as I noticed even more leaves turning on my way to work. I started thinking back to last Fall.

Last Fall I did not take the time to stop and smell the leaves.

I worry that I might write too much on this blog about my experience with post adoption depression, but I think it is important for me to share feelings as they come out; both to help others who might be experiencing this very under-supported experience and just to help me work through what lingers of my own. Understand that all things considered, I have a charmed life, and I totally know it.

Last Fall Little Bug had been home for around a monthish. Things were rough in my world, but only those very closest to Appa and I really had any indication of that, mainly because I tried desperately to hide it, even from myself and him. I'm not sure at the time that I even knew what I was feeling. I was overwhelmed with the total loss of independence I was experiencing, the complete 24/7 independence Little Bug had on me, my feelings of inadequacy, Little Bug's special needs that I felt completely unprepared for, consuming guilt over my feelings, and lack of sleep and good eating.

I am convinced that lack of sleep makes everything worse. Just an aside.

Anyway, I honestly can't remember Fall last year. I remember experiences with Little Bug, but I don't recall what the leaves looked like, or what the air smelled like, or how I felt about it all. There were no seasons for me at the end of last year. My life was lived in a very weird haze of shellshock, depression, avoidance, self loathing, and spurts of joy. (This haze sadly clouded what should have been the Christmas season of my dreams, too.)

Blah. I'm not loving thinking about it today, but the point of this post is that I realized this morning as I was marveling over the start of the Fall season that I am back and better than ever!

There is a light at the end of the depression tunnel. For some people it might be just a week or a few days away. For some, it might be months. For me, it was many months and a hard fought battle, but there is light at the end of the tunnel.

How can there not be? Being a parent is hard and the ultimate sacrifice is so many ways, and yet, at the end of the day, your child inherently makes it worth it. You just have to be in the right frame of mind to see it.

Case in point: Yesterday Little Bug and I were leaving a store and he was riding in the shopping cart in the parking lot. the wind was pretty strong and had that autumn bite to it. Little Bug gasped the first time he felt it, and then started pumping his legs wildly and throwing his head around, mouth wide open, trying to catch the air in his mouth, his hands clapping almost unconsciously.

That is my new favorite memory of Fall.

Separated

This post is all about me, not about Little Bug.

One of the lingering and most common effects of Post Adoption Blues is the lack of that heart-wrenching feeling when you are separated from your child. Once I went back to work, I occasionally would muse about how I didn't feel this intense pull to be back with Little Bug immediately. I liked having my "me time" at work (I still do), but this lack of what I had expected to be an almost desolate longing when away from my baby never came.

At first I was hard on myself, as is normal with the PADs. I felt that my lack was proof of my deficiency. As the months went on and I worked through my blues and came out on a better side, I began to think that those intense, crazy feelings were the stuff of my imagination, something I had dreamed up when I built my ideal version of motherhood, and I was kind to myself and felt okay for not being overly focused on Little Bug when I was away from him.

That has changed....sort of.

I'm not weeping on the floor and calling my son's school begging to hear his sweet voice say "na" just once as he pushed the phone away from his ear, BUT I am thinking about him a lot more. Maybe thinking about him is not the right word, because I always thought about him, even before he came home.

Missing him.

I miss Little Bug when he is not with me. I've noticed I miss him when he takes naps, when he is sleeping at night, when I don't see him for a few hours, and most definitely when he is at school. It's this steady underlying desire to see him, coupled with a joy to just know that he is somewhere in the world, especially in my world.

It's one more way that I know that I am fully attached and bonded to my son, and that makes me feel good.

Sometimes it is the little things that are missing that make everything feel much more complete when the come.

Or in my case, it's a 30 lb Korean-American child.

10 Perfect Toes

Today I spent some time (a fair bit of time actually) examining Little Bug's toes while he was napping on me. I found that his pudgy feet are shaped in a perfect little incline with little slits cut out for toes. Each of his toes are slightly smaller than the previous--very proportional. In short, my son has perfectly adorable feet.

Just shy of 10 months home, I am just now noticing.

When Little Bug first came home, I feel into a deep depression--post adoption depression--which is similar to PPD after a woman gives birth. I don't feel like explaining it today (but the research is there and it does exist), but the point of bringing it up is that for a very long time...months and months and months, I never really looked at my son. I saw him, sure, I examined him with a clinical and motherly eye, yes, but I never just took the time to revel in the little physical traits that make Little Bug up. It wasn't intentional, but it was the truth. I remember when my mother came to visit after Little Bug had been home for 5 weeks and she went on and on and on about his cute feet. I clearly remember thinking at the time that I really hadn't noticed what she was talking about, nor could I clearly recall anything specific about his feet.

It's taken me a very long time to pull my head out of the haze of depression such an irrevocable (although wonderful) change in my life had produced. Little things about motherhood that I always expected are starting to come to me. Moments of clarity.

Moments like today where I finally looked and my son and saw him...and how amazing his feet are. My son.

My son, my son, my son.

Hella Good

Tonight was a "me" night. I went out with some girlfriend to an amazing concert (Paramore/No Doubt, in case you were wondering).

Going out with friends without Appa and Little Bug is good for me. I rarely feel guilty about it...probably because I don't do it much anymore. For a while after Little Bug came home I think I did it as an escape from the post adoption blues I was feeling, and that didn't serve any of us well.

But now--well, I'm feeling "hella good" lately. Despite the teething misery and Appa's long work hours, I'm getting into a good place as a mother and find myself missing my husband and son when I am away from them, instead of feeling "free."

Things can be broken down
In this world of ours
You don't have to be a famous person
Just to make your mark
A mother can be an inspiration
To her little son
Change his thoughts, his mind, his life,
Just with her gentle hum
"Different People"--No Doubt