Confessions

This post is for anyone who has, even briefly, contemplated sending your kid(s) to boarding school. For elementary school. Hey, maybe the Brits are on to something.

Not that I have. Contemplated this. Ever. Ahem.

For all intents and purposes, Paul is doing amazingly well. This morning, for the first time EVER, he got out of bed and walked downstairs to our bedroom! (It was six a.m., gah, but still!) I weaned myself from sleeping in his room a couple of weeks ago, and since then he has resorted to screaming, "Mum! MUM!" into the baby monitor in the wee hours of the morning. But he has gradually adjusted to the idea of sleeping alone in his own room and this morning he reminded me of any other six year old who'd bounced awake at six am.

THEN, after snuggling for a few minutes and Trent trying to persuade him to watch the British Open, he walked back upstairs and dressed himself. HUGE, people, HUGE. (Also the reason he is wearing a brown surf shirt and red athletic shorts today. NOT MY FAULT!)

Still, even though I realize I am so, so, blessed, and most days am privileged to laugh hilariously at his antics, and am the beloved recipient of full-on-tackle hugs and kisses, and even have a few minutes of solitude right now at 3:30 pm because HE AND SAM ARE PLAYING AND NOT FIGHTING!, there are still days when I send text messages like this:

Parenting is mentally and physically and emotionally exhausting. Parenting a special needs child ups the ante on that a gazillion times. And make no mistake, children who suffered abandonment or trauma or grief or institutionalized care or multiple placements have special needs. They may look healthy, and there may be moments when they act like every other firmly attached child on the planet, but their needs, their scars, their hurts are there, just under the surface, ready and waiting to suck the life out of their parents.

When we were still in limbo-mode with Paul's adoption, waiting and hoping and praying over his pictures, wondering if the paperwork would ever be signed to allow him to come home, Jen Hatmaker wrote this blog. I read it. And read it again. (And join her 100% in applauding the imminent start of school!) And thought, "Hmmm. Sounds like they're having a difficult adjustment." Then I thought, "Really, the adjustment period is difficult for everyone. I've read the research." Then I realized, "This is going to be hard. Not just for other people whom I've read about and counseled. For me."

But knowing in your heart that it's going to be difficult and walking through that difficulty are two totally different things. I have a confession to make. Part of me thought, "This adoption thing was God's idea. We've seen God's hand in this from the very beginning. And if God is for us, who can be against us. Right? How hard can it be with God on our side?"

Then I remembered Stephen (stoned), Daniel (lion's den), Peter (crucified upside down), Bible Paul (shipwrecked, flogged, etc. etc.), Jesus (flogged and crucified). And I took a deep, deep breath. "Alrighty, God. Here we go then, eh?"

I know there are parents out there who are facing even more difficult adjustments than ours. I know because I get your facebook posts, your whispered comments, "I sent your blog to a friend who adopted. They are really struggling," your emails. Please know that I am not complaining about Paul and even on the days that he "pinched and pulled and hurt my neck" with one of his full-on-tackle hugs, I love him and am committed to helping him heal. (YES, I did pick him up from the kids maze! Sheesh!) But please also know that if you have days when you don't immediately chase your child when he runs manically outside into the parking lot (it wasn't a busy parking lot!), but instead relish the few moments of peace and quiet, I UNDERSTAND. You are not alone.

It may not be easy, but God is a God who heals. Who comforts. Who does not judge those parents who don't immediately chase the manically-running-through-the-not-busy-parking-lot child, but who understands. Who offers blessed solitude.

We're going to counseling next week, people. I am ALL FOR seeking help and support from those who are knowledgeable and who can offer workable ideas and suggestions. (I'll let you know how it goes). And I'll work on adding a link to adoption and attachment professionals around the country, but can't just now because Paul and Sam are bored with squirting each other with water pistols and I'm afraid it might escalate if I don't intervene...