Focusing on the Positives

Well, I am focusing on Marissa’s positives and my failures. Perhaps failure is too strong a word, but I will use it anyway. I have decided to crack the door into our life a little. I know that there are people reading my blog who are raising children with FASD. They look to me to provide direction on how to parent a teen with FASD. Perhaps, I can teach you all best by teaching you what not to do. Marissa has had a lot of major stressors this year. But there are three things that are causing her a great deal of difficulty at this moment in time.  No, there are four things. I am the fourth.

First, Marissa was an only child in a staid (read boring), structured home. Now she lives in a home with a 3-year-old boy and soon to be 5-year-old girl. When Beverly and David moved into our home, our structures and routines were turned on their heads and are only now being resurrected. Just like Strawberry, the not very clever horse from CS Lewis’, The Magician’s Nephew, who became Fledge, the father of all winged-horses — our new routines bear only a little resemblance to our structure of old. Unlike Fledge, I am not sure that our new routines are an improvement over what we had in the past. They are fragile. They can be overturned by a missed nap, phone call from a doctor’s office or yet another argument over whether or not mom really meant it when she said we have to share. Because she has FASD, Marissa has difficulty reacting to changes in her environment. She needs consistent routines. And, while I can rationalize as to why it is hard to provide that right now, I must take responsibility for the truth that I am not providing the environment she needs to grow and thrive.

Second, Marissa has become non-white. Unless you happen to be a white person raising a person of color, you might not understand that statement. I am not talking about her skin color really. Marissa has always known her skin wasn’t white. Marissa has become non-white in the sense that since David and Beverly have moved into our home she is aware that others see her as “non-white.” She has been asked several times if she is David’s and Beverly’s mother. She has figured out that other people look at her skin color and make assumptions about who she is as a person. I tried to prepare her for this. But, she felt racism was something from the historical past. She is now aware that people in our community who know nothing about her have preconceived ideas about who she is based solely upon her skin color. She has also concluded that there are boys in our town who will not date her (or their parents wouldn’t approve of her) because she isn’t white. This is a hard, ugly truth when you are a 16-year-old girl. 

Third, Marissa has had to face many questions about her adoption since David and Beverly joined our family. Someone very astute might pick up on the fact that I generally describe my relationship to Marissa as parent instead of mother. But, I don’t use the adjectives adopted, real, natural, birth, etc. to describe our family. I made a conscious decision not to talk about how Marissa entered our family when talking about FASD. My motivation in doing so was to separate myself from having caused Marissa’s FASD. I was raised in a home with ample material blessing; my parents gently nurtured me. While I have a family history of mental illness and addiction, I have not struggled with severe, debilitating mood disorders or addiction myself. Marissa’s mother enjoyed few of these blessings. And, still, there was a time in my life when I drank. While I wasn’t addicted, my drinking pattern was not safe either. I was sexually active and was not trying to prevent a pregnancy. While I would have stopped drinking had I become pregnant, the brain damage caused by alcohol can occur very early in fetal development. Truthfully, if I hadn’t been infertile, I could have given birth to a child with FASD. Since she is mixed race, I think most people assumed that Marissa was my biological child. The presence of two black children in our family mark us as a family that was formed by adoption. Total strangers will ask about David and Beverly and then almost immediately say, “And, where did you get her from?” The first time this happened I was caught off guard. I think from now on I will just say, “Oh her? Why she is a gift from God!”

FASD colors our home’s environment. While it would be difficult for anyone to deal with so many challenges all at once, Marissa struggles with how to cope with these things in an appropriate way. Rather than being understanding, I have found myself irritated with her.

Finally, me! In her article, Who Invented Adolescence?, Mardi Keyes describes the different Hebrew words used to describe the different stages in a child’s life.

“…youth, ‘one who shakes off’ or shakes him or herself free (naar). Please notice that ’shaking free’ is part of God’s developmental plan for our children. Parents must be ‘with the program,’ in favor of their children’s growth in independence. If we are holding on too tight for our children to ’shake free,’ at this developmental stage, they may need to ‘break free,’ obviously much more painful for everyone, and not necessary.”

At 16-years-old, Marissa has begun the process of “shaking free.” I have not been “with the program.” This normal developmental stage has been painful. Again, I can rationalize my parenting choices. Marissa has a deficit related to executive functioning. This is partially because she is a teenager and her brain isn’t finished yet. But, her difficulties with executive function are more exaggerated than one sees in a typical teenager. They are also more severe than some one would expect given her low-normal IQ. I waffle with how I respond to her brain dysfunction. On some days, I expect her to perform at a higher level than she is capable of. My life would be way easier if Marissa would just act her age! Other days, I get lost in hopelessness and expect nothing from her. Neither extreme is good for Marissa.

In the past, I parented in the moment. When Marissa was little, I allowed Marissa to have bad hours with negative consequences that lasted for the hour. If she was good the next hour, she got rewarded with positive consequences. Having a melt down at 9AM didn’t mean the whole day was blown. Marissa’s teachers were on board with the plan. As Marissa matured, I allowed Marissa to have bad days with negative consequences that lasted for that day. I no longer parent in the moment. I parent out of fear. I am so worried about tomorrow that I am forgetting to be nurturing today. Marissa still has days where it needs to be okay for her to just make it through the next hour. Marissa still needs to be free to choose every day the attitude that she is going to demonstrate that day. Setting the bar too high adds anxiety that is hard to overcome.

“Fathers, do not exasperate your children, so that they will not lose heart.” Colossians 3:21

So, I have decided I need to “soften the environment.” Which means that I am committed to:

Well it seems that what we are actually saying when we say that the enviornment needs to be softened, is that the enviornment needs to become more like people with intellectual disabilities who

• do not make high social skill demands of others,
• are more open to differences in people to the point of not even seeing disability,
• tend to be friendly and loving,
• and perhaps due to their disability are less independent and more dependent or interdependent.

~ Jeff McNair, Disabled Christianity, Softening the Environment

One of the very positive things about Marissa is her willingness to accept people. She is always willing to forgive and forget bad behavior in others, “Everyone makes bad choices sometimes.” Marissa’s friends are people who have struggled in their family and/or with learning difficulties. They allow Marissa to be socially awkward and irritable. When she gets herself back together, they celebrate her triumph and forget the past. They cheer for and encourage one another. This means that Marissa only has a few “good” friends. They usually are kids who are in trouble a lot. They are the kids you probably don’t let your child hang out with. But, they are perfect for Marissa and perfect examples for me.

Are We Prepared for the Ministry?

I was planning on posting about how our first week of school went, but I had a rotten yesterday and I am going to spill all my troubled thoughts out on this blog instead. I don’t always do that and, in fact, in the Policies tab of this blog I have written, “While I try to be honest with my readers, this blog will not be used to outline every stressor in my life.” So, I will not go into long boring details about what went on to start this line of thought other than to ask for your continued prayers for Marissa.

The sane part of me wrote the church today to let the Youth Leader know that Marissa will not be attending Youth Group. An incident that occurred there proved that there is inadequate supervision and it is not a safe place for Marissa. Now, the insane part of me is going to speak my mind. I have written before about how many churches and para-church organizations are presenting adoption as a ministry that Christians should embrace. Well, it is of my opinion that most churches are in no way prepared to accept the children they are asking their parishioners to bring into their home.

Recently Antiracist Parent posted the question, “Dear ARP: Are my church’s actions influenced by racial prejudice?” in which a person related the following story:

My husband and I are Christian and attended a church for a long time. Our family had been very active in this church. We recently brought home a little boy with some special needs from Haiti. It had been hard for me to attend church with the little boy because he likes to be noisy and the church asks that people who have noisy children in the service stand out of the service in order to not disturb everyone. So after weeks of doing this because I wanted to be sure that the little boys special needs were ok enough to put him in the nursery….we sent our beloved baby boy into the nursery. I was able to enjoy church and our little boy had a great time playing with the other babies and being well taken care of. Nothing out of the ordinary right?

The fact that the child was from Haiti gave the story meaning. The writer goes on to relate how one of the pastors at the church later called the parent having “noticed” the child in the nursery and after beating around the bush for awhile got to the main point of the call. The pastor wanted to know the child’s HIV status. Are our churches ready to accept these children and love them with open arms? I suspect the answer in many cases is no. I suspect there are some people who would openly love on these children, but I have met few Father Damiens who said, “I am gently going to my grave. It is the will of God, and I thank Him very much for letting me die of the same disease and in the same way as my lepers. I am very satisfied and very happy.” And, while many of us are willing to put our own health at risk, we are less willing to expose our children to communicable diseases. I wonder how many people in my own church would embrace Beverly if I shared that she carries the Hepatitis-B virus? How many of those in the homeschooling community?

Marissa was adopted from the foster care system. I have heard people in the FASD community who estimate that about 70% of the children in foster care have been prenatally exposed to alcohol. The sane me knows that it is unreasonable to ask a Youth Ministry to provide 1:1 supervision Marissa needs so that she can participate. The part of me that likes to think outside the box and knows that Christians are being encouraged to adopt these kids wonders, “Is this really the very best the body of Christ can do?” Particularly given that many Christian groups eschew psychiatry believing that it undermines religion. Having your mom breathe down your neck when you are interacting with your peer group obviously is not a solution for a teenager with FASD. My showing up to Youth Group would not be a viable solution. What about a college student who worked on the Youth Staff whose sole purpose is to mentor and oversee a child with FASD and act as his or her external brain?

Jeff McNair who blogs at Disabled Christianity has a website, Disability Ministry, where he has invited people to send in information about nationwide programs serving persons with disabilities. The only programs listed are programs administered by Trinity Evangelical Free Church in Redland, California. Neither of these programs would necessarily be appropriate for a person with fetal alcohol spectrum disorder and a normal IQ, but the fact that the church invests in this ministry screams of their commitment to provide service to their members with special needs. It is sad that this kind of service is so rare.

Related posts: The Baby Thief, Adoption Evangelism

Child Slavery Still Exists

Child slavery in Haiti is making the news again.

Watch this video: How to Buy a Child in 10 Hours

Look at these slides: Child Slavery

It took me 30 months to legally adopt Beverly and David. I will not tell you the wait was easy. There were days when I was so into me and my wait that I had trouble seeing the big picture. On those days, I would withdraw from discussions about adoption. After a few days, I would declare an end to my pity party. I am not saying there isn’t a plethora of red tape surrounding international adoption. There is. But, I can understand why it is like that. What I can’t understand is how you can bring a child into the US illegally faster than you can bring a child in legally. It is hard to believe that this can happen in our world.

As a Christian who has been surprised by the stance of so many Christian organizations and groups against open adoption, I want to point out that closed record adoptions, more specifically the trail of lies that closed record adoption leaves, opens the door for illegal practices that put children and mothers at risk. I pray for the day the universal church supports honest, open adoptions.

Praising and Thanking

For those of you who read my blog because I am well read and opinionated, I suspect that you will be unsubscribing. I haven’t read anything except my Bible and children stories since the kids came home. So, this post will be another what is going on in our life post!

First we are more than half way through the antibiotics prescribed to the kids for their parasites. I have learned more Creole, “Gou pa bon!” (Taste not good!) But the kids are being great about taking their medicine. And, Beverly was seen by a pediatric gastroenterologist who specializes in liver diseases in kids. Her liver function tests are improving. Not only is Beverly’s health improving but, more importantly in her 4-year-old eyes, her weekly blood tests were changed to every two weeks. So we are celebrating, Creole style. We feasted on Haitian Spaghetti and Hot Dogs, bread and butter and mangoes.

Beverly and David’s favorite meal!

Next, David and Beverly decided they needed a sandbox. They enlisted Ron’s help. They spent three days moving dirt, and constructing. They still aren’t done, but I have a big hole in my yard as proof of their work. I thank God for a hard working, handy husband. He really is my life’s greatest blessing!

I want to thank Sandi of Titus2Women for her complimenting me on Beverly’s hair:

I meant to tell you a while back how proud I am of you doing such a good job on Beverly’s hair!

Hair is an adoption issue. Like socialization and homeschooling, black hair care is one of the issue that consistently comes up when discussing whether or not white families should be allowed to adopt black children. It used to annoy me until I ran into two families. One white adoptive mother thought her black child’s thick curly hair was unruly and kept it in a short afro. This little girl’s haircut was identical to her brothers. I wondered if she was teased at school. She was only 6, so maybe not yet. But, I suspect as she grows older and kids get meaner, she will be teased. Besides, she was telling me this in front of her child. I tried steering the conversation in a different direction, but the woman didn’t take a hint. I tried telling the little girl I thought she was beautiful. Finally, I just walked away from the conversation wondering what I should have done to validate the little girl and shut the woman up.

Another time I went to a multicultural event and saw a black child with a white family. The girl had long hair that was pulled into a single ponytail. She was stunning, but when she turned around and I saw her hair I noticed that several sections of hair that had become locked. The locks weren’t there on purpose. They were irregular knots. I don’t suspect her hair had been combed out, well ever. But the truth is that these women are exceptions to the rule and point out that adoptive parents need post placement evaluation and support.

I am not new to caring for curly hair. Marissa’s hair, though her curls aren’t as tight and small as Beverly’s, is quite curly. I learned how to condition and detangle her hair. Beverly’s hair requires similar care. I also braided Marissa’s hair when she was young. So, I am not new to braiding either. But I still am sometimes self conscious about Beverly’s hair.

“What if I don’t do a good job? What if my baby is ashamed of her white mother’s creation?” ~ Black, White, and the Cornrow Inbetween by Sherri blogging at Beads, Braids, Truth.

I never want Beverly or David to believe that black people are only acceptable if they take steps to make themselves look more like me. I have worried that my children will not like the way I fix their hair. But, that is not the only thing I am worried about. I am worried about what other people think about how I fix her hair. When I am around black Americans I worry that Beverly’s hair looks good enough to validate that I can adequately parent her. When I am around white Americans, I sometimes feel the need to defend my child’s ethnic hairstyle. I am slowly remembering what I learned when I was doing Marissa’s hair.

• The promise of a hair style that can last two weeks is for teens and adults. Kids play. They roll around in the dirt, they put on tiaras, they add a headband or two or three, they change their clothes sometimes 4 times a day… each time raking their shirt collar over your beautifully done hairstyle. Their parts get fuzzy and they just need a redo.
• Expecting a child to sit for hours for a hairdo is just stupid.
• Twists are easier to put in and, more importantly, easier to take out than braids whose finished diameter is that of a piece of yarn; there is also less hair breakage.
• The shorter the hair, the more parts you have to make. Taking a shortcut at this step might mean redoing a hairstyle before the day is even over.
• Hair time, when planned, relaxed and not rushed is a wonderful, bonding time for you and your little girl. The time should be cherished. I was heartbroken when Marissa told me she didn’t want me to fix her hair like a little black girl anymore. (She wanted it cut like Halle Berry.)
• Always end your hair time with a trip to the mirror to show your daughter how stunning she is
• Other people probably don’t think near as much about your daughter’s hair as you assume that they do; it is none of their business anyway.

For those of you who did not know that African hair was a cultural and political issue, read this article about a preschool student that was threatened with expulsion because his ethnic hairstyle was deemed “faddish.” Or, watch this video:

Finally, just because I had a cute picture of Beverly, I wanted to add this. Too cute!

Disappointed

… In Governor Tim Pawlenty. A bill that was passed by the Minnesota State Legislature would have given adult adoptees access to their original birth certificates. Governor Pawlenty vetoed this bill.

“Before 1977, the law supported a birth parent’s expectation their identity and birth records would be forever sealed and confidential. Breaching that promise of confidentiality previously given to these birth parents is not appropriate,” Tim Pawlenty.

Personal rights end at the point where another person’s rights begin. I believe knowing your heritage is a basic human right. Knowing your family’s medical history can mean the difference between a physician making a good choice about how to manage your health and a poor choice. I was blessed to be able to talk to Marissa’s family when I was making decisions about her medications. Our country’s and my state’s laws and policies simply should not deprive a person of their right to information about themselves so that another person can be protected from the consequences of their past choices. I am really outraged by this veto.

Closed adoption records were never about protecting the mother’s of adopted individuals. The original birth certificate is not sealed at the time that the mother and father relinquish their rights to the child; it is sealed when the adoption is final. The original birth certificate was sealed, the records “closed” to protect adoptive parents; they could create a fantasy in which the child they were parenting were their own biological child. Closed records allow for corruption in adoption.

Defenders of the Status Quo