ohmigosh!ohmigosh!ohmigosh!
We leave today!
Here is the plan for trip the first. (ps, feeling fine today. We both slept until about 5:30, when we both were tossing and turning and kidding ourselves that we could fall back asleep. The I screamed us both awake when I dreamt that a rocking horse came into our room and put it's face on the bed right beside mine. what the?):
We fly to Toronto, small layover there. Fly overnight to Istanbul, layover there, then fly to UFA.
We land the morning of the 13th. Our CHOC rep and driver meets us at 9. We go over our appointments, ask all questions about procedure, then head to the Ministry of Education in Ufa for our first government appointment. At this meeting we get to see all the information they have on Dania, fill out lots of paperwork, and ask any questions we have. I also believe this is the point we schedule the court date, after signing our commitment papers. Then we drive to Sterlitamak, where the orphanage is, and meet our host family (the husband of which is our driver) and Dania!
The 14th is when we have the Canadian designated medical practitioner check out Dania. This gives us more information to bring home for our government. Then spend the rest of the day with her.
The 15th is a whole day at the orphanage. Well, we always go "home" for our own meals, which is within walking distance of the orphanage, apparently, but the rest of the time is with her.
The 16th we spend most of the day with Dania. We must travel back to Ufa to fly to Moscow at 20:00. We travel from the airport to our apartment for a late check in (this is a one hour time difference already)! This apartment has free wifi, so if we are not able to upload photos and updates before this date we will definitely do it this night!
The 17th is our appointments at the clinic. We can walk from our apartment, (and thanks to google maps I was able to print directions in Russian and English!), and the appointment time will probably be first thing - we find out for sure with our initial meeting with the CHOC rep in Ufa. Then, the rest of the eve is ours. We are within a 5 minute walk from the pedestrian area with all the fun restaurants and bars so we will probably celebrate our "doneness" for this trip. At this point there is literally NOTHING we can do to change anything until we say our word to the judge. Then we will get some sleep.
The 18th is our bonus day! We stay the extra day and save about 1500 on flights! We get to be tourists! We will go see the Red Square, possible go inside the Kremlin, and all other big sights in this area (all within 15 minute walk from our apartment!). Then we hit the hay and ready for travel home.
The 19th, we fly out at 10:00. We will, most likely, have to be up and leave before 0600 from the apartment so we will be turning in early the night before. This is it though! We will be leaving Moscow for Warsaw at 10, Warsaw to Toronto after a 6ish hour layover, then first thing in the morning on the 20th we fly Toronto to Halifax. It will really be almost the 22nd for us though! Yeah welcomed jet lag!
I will keep doing little posts from the airports when the wifi kicks in. It will be a grand adventure for sure!
xoxo
j
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Friday, May 10, 2013
1 More Sleep
Oh.My.Gods.
BARF! (not!) I awoke, today, with a sense of calm. I've had a few people ask me how I think I will be when we first meet her. My answer to them has been surprisingly composed. For some reason, in the face of grand moments, I can rein in my usual tearful reactions and focus. For example, I cry at every engagement announcement of friends and bawl like a baby at weddings. My own? Stone cold composed (enough of a difference that my dad even commented on it before walking me down the aisle)... until after it was all done. I believe that is how I will be for this as well.
My to-do list today?
-get Howie ready for pick up in an hour.
-ask a neighbour if she will pick up our mail
-charge the kobo
-watch last night's Grey's and Glee
-try to eat what's left in the fridge, or give it away
That's it. I've done everything else.
A good friend is taking us out tonight for a celebration dinner. We wanted to patio it up, but it's raining (of course) so we will find another plan. It will be nice and I appreciate how excited she is for us. She is also a teacher and has been sharing in the adoption story of one of her students who was fostered and then just adopted by those parents at the beginning of this year. I will always smile when I remember her telling me that at parent-teacher interviews she shared my story with the mom-to-be and all they did was talk about adoption! She gets me more than most people and knows that I love hearing stories about that student.
She also shared this with me today, coincidence that it was written just a few days ago???
Source: http://www.kathylynnharris.com/dear-moms-of-adopted-children/
by author Kathy Lynn Harris
First, a quick note: I wrote this piece after reading an essay written by Lea Grover in the Huffiington Post, titled “Dear Less-Than-Perfect Mom.”
The post by Lea was wonderful, and it made me think about us moms who
found our sweet babies through adoption, and how we face unique
challenges. I hope you enjoy it, whether you are the parent of an
adopted child or not. Happy early Mother’s Day, everyone.
——————————————————————————————————————
Dear Mom of an Adopted Child,
I met you in adoption education class. I met you at the agency. I met you at my son’s school. I met you online. I met you on purpose. I met you by accident.
It doesn’t matter. The thing is, I knew you right away. I recognize the fierce determination. The grit. The fight. Because everything about what you have was a decision, and nothing about what you have was easy. You are the kind of woman who Makes.Things.Happen. After all, you made this happen, this family you have.
Maybe you prayed for it. Maybe you had to convince a partner it was the right thing. Maybe you did it alone. Maybe people told you to just be happy with what you had before. Maybe someone told you it simply wasn’t in God’s plans for you to have a child, this child whose hair you now brush lightly from his face. Maybe someone warned you about what happened to their cousin’s neighbor’s friend. Maybe you ignored them.
Maybe you planned for it for years. Maybe an opportunity dropped into your lap. Maybe you depleted your life-savings for it. Maybe it was not your first choice. But maybe it was.
Regardless, I know you. And I see how you hold on so tight. Sometimes too tight. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it?
I know about all those books you read back then. The ones everyone reads about sleep patterns and cloth versus disposable, yes, but the extra ones, too. About dealing with attachment disorders, breast milk banks, babies born addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth. About cognitive delays, language deficiencies. About counseling support services, tax and insurance issues, open adoption pros and cons, legal rights.
I know about the fingerprinting, the background checks, the credit reports, the interviews, the references. I know about the classes, so many classes. I know the frustration of the never-ending paperwork. The hours of going over finances, of having garage sales and bake sales and whatever-it-takes sales to raise money to afford it all.
I know how you never lost sight of what you wanted.
I know about the match call, the soaring of everything inside you to cloud-height, even higher. And then the tucking of that away because, well, these things fall through, you know.
Maybe you told your mother, a few close friends. Maybe you shouted it to the world. Maybe you allowed yourself to decorate a baby’s room, buy a car seat. Maybe you bought a soft blanket, just that one blanket, and held it to your cheek every night.
I know about your home visits. I know about your knuckles, cracked and bleeding, from cleaning every square inch of your home the night before. I know about you burning the coffee cake and trying to fix your mascara before the social worker rang the doorbell.
And I know about the followup visits, when you hadn’t slept in three weeks because the baby had colic. I know how you wanted so badly to show that you had it all together, even though you were back to working more-than-full-time, maybe without maternity leave, without the family and casseroles and welcome-home balloons and plants.
And I’ve seen you in foreign countries, strange lands, staying in dirty hotels, taking weeks away from work, struggling to understand what’s being promised and what’s not. Struggling to offer your love to a little one who is unsettled and afraid. Waiting, wishing, greeting, loving, flying, nesting, coming home.
I’ve seen you down the street at the hospital when a baby was born, trying to figure out where you belong in the scene that’s emerging. I’ve seen your face as you hear a nurse whisper to the birthmother that she doesn’t have to go through with this. I’ve seen you trying so hard to give this birthmother all of your respect and patience and compassion in those moments—while you bite your lip and close your eyes, not knowing if she will change her mind, if this has all been a dream coming to an abrupt end in a sterile environment. Not knowing if this is your time. Not knowing so much.
I’ve seen you look down into a newborn infant’s eyes, wondering if he’s really yours, wondering if you can quiet your mind and good sense long enough to give yourself over completely.
And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. His little fingers curled around yours. His warm heart beating against yours.
I know that bliss. The perfect, guarded, hopeful bliss.
I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves that morning, the judge, the formality, the relief, the joy. The letting out of a breath maybe you didn’t even know you were holding for months. Months.
I’ve seen you meet your child’s birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. I’ve seen you share your child with strangers who have his nose, his smile … people who love him because he’s one of them. I’ve seen you hold him in the evenings after those visits, when he’s shaken and confused and really just wants a stuffed animal and to rest his head on your shoulder.
I’ve seen you worry when your child brings home a family tree project from school. Or a request to bring in photos of him and his dad, so that the class can compare traits that are passed down, like blue eyes or square chins. I know you worry, because you can protect your child from a lot of things — but you can’t protect him from being different in a world so intent on celebrating sameness.
I’ve seen you at the doctor’s office, filling out medical histories, leaving blanks, question marks, hoping the little blanks don’t turn into big problems later on.
I’ve seen you answer all of the tough questions, the questions that have to do with why, and love, and how much, and where, and who, and how come, mama? How come?
I’ve seen you wonder how you’ll react the first time you hear the dreaded, “You’re not my real mom.” And I’ve seen you smile softly in the face of that question, remaining calm and loving, until you lock yourself in the bathroom and muffle your soft cries with the sound of the shower.
I’ve seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being it is the other way around.
But most of all, I want you to know that I’ve seen you look into your child’s eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that’s just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter, and who, if torn from you, would be like losing yourself.
BARF! (not!) I awoke, today, with a sense of calm. I've had a few people ask me how I think I will be when we first meet her. My answer to them has been surprisingly composed. For some reason, in the face of grand moments, I can rein in my usual tearful reactions and focus. For example, I cry at every engagement announcement of friends and bawl like a baby at weddings. My own? Stone cold composed (enough of a difference that my dad even commented on it before walking me down the aisle)... until after it was all done. I believe that is how I will be for this as well.
My to-do list today?
-get Howie ready for pick up in an hour.
-ask a neighbour if she will pick up our mail
-charge the kobo
-watch last night's Grey's and Glee
-try to eat what's left in the fridge, or give it away
That's it. I've done everything else.
A good friend is taking us out tonight for a celebration dinner. We wanted to patio it up, but it's raining (of course) so we will find another plan. It will be nice and I appreciate how excited she is for us. She is also a teacher and has been sharing in the adoption story of one of her students who was fostered and then just adopted by those parents at the beginning of this year. I will always smile when I remember her telling me that at parent-teacher interviews she shared my story with the mom-to-be and all they did was talk about adoption! She gets me more than most people and knows that I love hearing stories about that student.
She also shared this with me today, coincidence that it was written just a few days ago???
Source: http://www.kathylynnharris.com/dear-moms-of-adopted-children/
by author Kathy Lynn Harris
Dear Moms of Adopted Children
——————————————————————————————————————
Dear Mom of an Adopted Child,
I met you in adoption education class. I met you at the agency. I met you at my son’s school. I met you online. I met you on purpose. I met you by accident.
It doesn’t matter. The thing is, I knew you right away. I recognize the fierce determination. The grit. The fight. Because everything about what you have was a decision, and nothing about what you have was easy. You are the kind of woman who Makes.Things.Happen. After all, you made this happen, this family you have.
Maybe you prayed for it. Maybe you had to convince a partner it was the right thing. Maybe you did it alone. Maybe people told you to just be happy with what you had before. Maybe someone told you it simply wasn’t in God’s plans for you to have a child, this child whose hair you now brush lightly from his face. Maybe someone warned you about what happened to their cousin’s neighbor’s friend. Maybe you ignored them.
Maybe you planned for it for years. Maybe an opportunity dropped into your lap. Maybe you depleted your life-savings for it. Maybe it was not your first choice. But maybe it was.
Regardless, I know you. And I see how you hold on so tight. Sometimes too tight. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it?
I know about all those books you read back then. The ones everyone reads about sleep patterns and cloth versus disposable, yes, but the extra ones, too. About dealing with attachment disorders, breast milk banks, babies born addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth. About cognitive delays, language deficiencies. About counseling support services, tax and insurance issues, open adoption pros and cons, legal rights.
I know about the fingerprinting, the background checks, the credit reports, the interviews, the references. I know about the classes, so many classes. I know the frustration of the never-ending paperwork. The hours of going over finances, of having garage sales and bake sales and whatever-it-takes sales to raise money to afford it all.
I know how you never lost sight of what you wanted.
I know about the match call, the soaring of everything inside you to cloud-height, even higher. And then the tucking of that away because, well, these things fall through, you know.
Maybe you told your mother, a few close friends. Maybe you shouted it to the world. Maybe you allowed yourself to decorate a baby’s room, buy a car seat. Maybe you bought a soft blanket, just that one blanket, and held it to your cheek every night.
I know about your home visits. I know about your knuckles, cracked and bleeding, from cleaning every square inch of your home the night before. I know about you burning the coffee cake and trying to fix your mascara before the social worker rang the doorbell.
And I know about the followup visits, when you hadn’t slept in three weeks because the baby had colic. I know how you wanted so badly to show that you had it all together, even though you were back to working more-than-full-time, maybe without maternity leave, without the family and casseroles and welcome-home balloons and plants.
And I’ve seen you in foreign countries, strange lands, staying in dirty hotels, taking weeks away from work, struggling to understand what’s being promised and what’s not. Struggling to offer your love to a little one who is unsettled and afraid. Waiting, wishing, greeting, loving, flying, nesting, coming home.
I’ve seen you down the street at the hospital when a baby was born, trying to figure out where you belong in the scene that’s emerging. I’ve seen your face as you hear a nurse whisper to the birthmother that she doesn’t have to go through with this. I’ve seen you trying so hard to give this birthmother all of your respect and patience and compassion in those moments—while you bite your lip and close your eyes, not knowing if she will change her mind, if this has all been a dream coming to an abrupt end in a sterile environment. Not knowing if this is your time. Not knowing so much.
I’ve seen you look down into a newborn infant’s eyes, wondering if he’s really yours, wondering if you can quiet your mind and good sense long enough to give yourself over completely.
And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. His little fingers curled around yours. His warm heart beating against yours.
I know that bliss. The perfect, guarded, hopeful bliss.
I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves that morning, the judge, the formality, the relief, the joy. The letting out of a breath maybe you didn’t even know you were holding for months. Months.
I’ve seen you meet your child’s birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. I’ve seen you share your child with strangers who have his nose, his smile … people who love him because he’s one of them. I’ve seen you hold him in the evenings after those visits, when he’s shaken and confused and really just wants a stuffed animal and to rest his head on your shoulder.
I’ve seen you worry when your child brings home a family tree project from school. Or a request to bring in photos of him and his dad, so that the class can compare traits that are passed down, like blue eyes or square chins. I know you worry, because you can protect your child from a lot of things — but you can’t protect him from being different in a world so intent on celebrating sameness.
I’ve seen you at the doctor’s office, filling out medical histories, leaving blanks, question marks, hoping the little blanks don’t turn into big problems later on.
I’ve seen you answer all of the tough questions, the questions that have to do with why, and love, and how much, and where, and who, and how come, mama? How come?
I’ve seen you wonder how you’ll react the first time you hear the dreaded, “You’re not my real mom.” And I’ve seen you smile softly in the face of that question, remaining calm and loving, until you lock yourself in the bathroom and muffle your soft cries with the sound of the shower.
I’ve seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being it is the other way around.
But most of all, I want you to know that I’ve seen you look into your child’s eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that’s just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter, and who, if torn from you, would be like losing yourself.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Gulp! 2 Sleeps!
We picked up the money today. I am thankful Russia has LARGE bills so we didn't have to carry a wad around that would scream, "I'm money! Take me!"
I will be sorting them into the pre-labeled envelopes very shortly. I also photographed the bills so that if Dania does become ours we have pictures of her original currency for her baby book.
That's it now. I need to get a few books for my kobo and pack my purse with all the important stuff. I already cleaned it out of the unnecessary items so that I can just toss everything in Saturday morning.
This is crazy!!!!!
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
3 Sleeps
I double checked with CHOC and we definitely have no outstanding paperwork. Phew! I just yesterday had this sinking feeling that we should have had something else... I didn't know what, but there has been SO much that it is easy to see why I would have thought that.
I think the dog is stressed out because we kind of are. Mike and I are quick to get on each others' nerves but than quick to see that this is what is happening. We are both worried. Leia has been licking her belly a lot, so I think she feels it too. My biggest fear will be when we visit those doctors over there. If they decide I have a mental problem because I take mood stabilizing medication than we are done for. BARF!
I don't work anymore this week so I have lots of time to keep rechecking everything. That is making me look REALLY obsessive compulsive. We are buying food day-by-day to not leave anything in the fridge to go bad. The cat and dog are ready to go (on Friday and Saturday, respectively) and I am packed with everything except the electronics for my purse and my toothbrush.
As my sister used to say to Olivia, "Calm and sense." Just use my calm and sense.
I think the dog is stressed out because we kind of are. Mike and I are quick to get on each others' nerves but than quick to see that this is what is happening. We are both worried. Leia has been licking her belly a lot, so I think she feels it too. My biggest fear will be when we visit those doctors over there. If they decide I have a mental problem because I take mood stabilizing medication than we are done for. BARF!
I don't work anymore this week so I have lots of time to keep rechecking everything. That is making me look REALLY obsessive compulsive. We are buying food day-by-day to not leave anything in the fridge to go bad. The cat and dog are ready to go (on Friday and Saturday, respectively) and I am packed with everything except the electronics for my purse and my toothbrush.
As my sister used to say to Olivia, "Calm and sense." Just use my calm and sense.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
4 Sleeps
Ok, so, 4 more sleeps.
BARF!
I feel like there should be more to do or that I will be forgetting something major. We pick up the money later this week (don't even get me started on the bank calling and saying they didn't think they could get enough roubles by the end of this week. That was why I called in the order 4 weeks ago so they would have time!), and I will have the envelopes for the proper recipients ready to be filled.
BARF!
Leia will be going to Mike's parents' place. Howie will be going with K & T and I have his bag already started with everything he needs. I am half packed with a written list of all that needs to still go in or go in my purse. I filled small bottles of our current shampoos, body washes, lotions, so that we smell like us when we meet her. I want our smell to hopefully be a comforting memory for her. Luckily, I use baby lotion on myself so I will smell like what I will eventually (hopefully) rub on her.
BARF!
We have our next set of readings and our next quiz for training; that will be for the plane/airports. Holy moly. Planes! For reals this time. BARF!
I have an envelope with all of our itineraries, our reservations for our apartment in Moscow, printed in English AND in Russian, and directions to walk from the apartment to the doctor clinic. I also have forms that we must fill out once we have more information on her. I have my camera batteries charged. I have our visas and our small photo book for Dania. All of this is the important info that, while we travel, I will probably keep unzipping my bag and touching every 20 minutes just to make sure it is all still there.
BARF!
BARF!
I feel like there should be more to do or that I will be forgetting something major. We pick up the money later this week (don't even get me started on the bank calling and saying they didn't think they could get enough roubles by the end of this week. That was why I called in the order 4 weeks ago so they would have time!), and I will have the envelopes for the proper recipients ready to be filled.
BARF!
Leia will be going to Mike's parents' place. Howie will be going with K & T and I have his bag already started with everything he needs. I am half packed with a written list of all that needs to still go in or go in my purse. I filled small bottles of our current shampoos, body washes, lotions, so that we smell like us when we meet her. I want our smell to hopefully be a comforting memory for her. Luckily, I use baby lotion on myself so I will smell like what I will eventually (hopefully) rub on her.
BARF!
We have our next set of readings and our next quiz for training; that will be for the plane/airports. Holy moly. Planes! For reals this time. BARF!
I have an envelope with all of our itineraries, our reservations for our apartment in Moscow, printed in English AND in Russian, and directions to walk from the apartment to the doctor clinic. I also have forms that we must fill out once we have more information on her. I have my camera batteries charged. I have our visas and our small photo book for Dania. All of this is the important info that, while we travel, I will probably keep unzipping my bag and touching every 20 minutes just to make sure it is all still there.
BARF!
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Coping and Structure
Training session number two happened last night. It was WONDERFUL! I really like this and think it applies to many more than just institutionalized kids, but it is practically a guarantee with an orphan from an institution.
We learned from NS training sessions that all adoptions begin with loss. Russia sees their loss and ups it with suspicion. There is suspicion of us as we chose this path and they didn't. The kids encounter this forced immersion and see us, as parents, as the guilty party because it was US that came and took THEM. Even if we are taking them from pain and squalor, we are still taking them from their normal and natural beginnings without their choosing us. SIDE NOTE: For these reasons, young international adoptees can have trouble with fantastial stories like Alice in Wonderland and Harry Potter because of the kids being forced into an entire new environment that is scary! I will have to ensure there is no fear of Harry in this house. I have secretly already planned to order the wand that corresponds with Kid's birthday... whenever that may be! So, adoptions begin with suspicion and they are forced to cope.
We learned about coping behaviours and what to expect our reactions to be for each type. We were also told that these behaviours are to be expected for the first 6 months. If it persists longer than that, we are encouraged to seek help of an adoption specialist therapist. By 6 months, Kid should have shifted into adjustment behaviours (mind you, this still isn't comfort, it is just acceptance and adapting and the knowledge that Mike and I are the "go to" people because we are here to protect Kid).
Oh, another side note: We are encouraged to think of Kid with a family age as well as the actual age. The family age can often coincide with developmental age because the family is a new day zero. To further illustrate this: if we are privileged enough to adopt Dania, she will be about 18 months, but when she turns 2, her family age is only 6 months. Man different stages to overlap and restart. So fascinating!
On to the classic coping behaviours. These are coping behaviours for many situations, but, as I understand, an orphan will fit one type more than the others, so it will seem like an adjustment, because some of these behaviours involve interaction and cooperation, but until Kid begins to exhibit different types of behaviour it is probably a coping behaviour.
Before I get into the types, I want to relay the metaphor we were given last night. It is like a kid being suddenly pushed into a pool while fully clothed. There is instant shock and panic. Sometimes the kid is old enough to know how to swim, which will change the way he thinks, but either way, the kid feels weighed down and a sinking sensation from the soaked clothing and lack of air. There is a point where they can decide to take control of the situation, orient themselves and find the surface, and then, if they know how, they can swim towards it. If they don't know how they still know that's the way to go but will flail and desperately reach for it. I loved this. I know how to swim and am very confident in the water but it is a suffocating atmosphere. I can hold my breath for well over a minute but as soon as I am submersed I have a sense of panic so I can't function as well as I know how to. It makes soooo much sense. Our instructor also relayed that kids as young as 9 months will exhibit these behaviours, because even if they won't necessarily remember the orphanage, they are still currently aware that a HUGE upset has occurred in their life! She also relayed that she knows a girl who was adopted at 3, it has been 6 years and she can descriptively describe her memories of the change from one home to another. It was the biggest CHANGE in her life and therefore the most ingrained. We were told to use words like "change" because that is easier for a child to understand instead of "adoption." Eventually, the child will understand adoption, but emphasize the change aspect as this will be the part that they understand the most.
OK, There are five classic coping types:
1. The Rock Response - This is a child who is in complete denial over their current situation. They feel rejected and question why everything happened - but question it in silence. This is an "acting in" behaviour. They will sit solemn and curled around themselves, refusing to interact with games, conversations, meals, etc. Completely turned inside. It is important for parents not to feel rejected and ignored. They child is coping! We just have to work extra hard to get any response from Kid and constantly assure them it is ok and we are there for them.
2. Ragdoll Response - This is another "acting in" behaviour. The child is in acceptance of their change of circumstance, but in total shock from it. They have no control over their body and just flop over wherever they are sat down. (Think of picking up a kid who is asleep). It is often not a continuous behaviour but will be lapsed into unexpectedly. Characteristic "deer in the headlight" vacant stare. This behaviour can illicit more frustration from the parents as there seems to be no focus. The kid will interact but then suddenly lose interest and 'ragdoll.'
3. Dizzy Performer - This child is also in denial and tries to avoid the present situation by being so busy and random. He is often charming, with a smile or act, but doesn't make a connection to anyone. It doesn't matter who comes into the room, there is no shyness or caution. These are kids who don't sleep well and can literally drop to sleep at random times. They are seen as hyperactive and don't feel immediate pain. The parents take pride in the seeming independence and interaction from the child but will be puzzled by the risk taking and non-stop action. These kids don't learn from mistakes or lessons about bad behaviour. This also leads to frustration.
4. The Royal Boss - This is the "my way or the high way" attitude. These kids feel out of control and want security and try to get it themselves. When they don't get what they want they throw tantrums. These kids don't understand consequences and don't understand boundaries. Parents feel unable to control these kids and feel forced to start using punishments (that aren't understood because they are just trying to gain a security that they just lost!) and can find themselves feeling angry or unable.
5. The Unwilling Guest - These are usually kids who are 2 or older. They feel rejected but are full of hope they can return to their normal world if they behave. These kids usually had a connection with someone before, whether it was a relative or caregiver, but they have lost this connection and act 'perfect' in order to get the reward of that person coming back. Parents of these kids often feel like they have a stranger living in their house as there is no connection made (the kid wants the previous connection), and it is difficult to feel compassion for these kids. They don't act out but they don't convey their hurt.
OK, these behaviours are to be expected - but not consistently longer than 6 months. The best way to help encourage the transition from coping to adjustment is STRUCTURE!
We were told that with all of these coping behaviours we have to keep ensuring that we are there to help and we love them, but by showing consistency in routine and structuring our days and weeks, we are showing security.
Everything is overstimulating for an institutionalized child who has just been forced into immersion in a new world! Unlike a child who grows with a family from birth and gets to know the routine in their house, if we bring home Kid one day and then go out to the grocery store the next day, this new change can induce fear of a second big change. Only introduce one new activity each day, from setting the table, to laundry, to preparing food. ONLY ONE! Endure any meltdowns that occur and judge whether or not you can do a different one the next day or whether it is necessary to repeat the same. Keep meal times, nap times, bath times, etc all the same at first. Wait until they show they are adjusted before shifting things. If it is necessary to go to appointments, only schedule one a week to help avoid over stimulation. You have to limit the number of new daily activities because the child may also display delayed reactions to these changes. Say we go to the drug store week 2, she may be fine and on perfect behaviour (because of fear that we are giving her away) and not react until much later out of relief from the fear. It was emphasized that we must move slow, slow, slow. No parties for the first bit (kids are often given a goodbye party at the orphanage), definitely no planes or hotels for the first year, if possible. This child had grown accustomed to a routine (at the orphanage) and then is suddenly forced into what we see is normal and mundane but, to them, it is foreign and scary.
It was so fascinating. If I could type it all out, I totally would. She couldn't emphasize enough how the littlest thing may cause major stress. No matter how young we are adopting.
I am so glad we are both planning on taking the maximum time off. Mike will be officially on parental leave and I will just be leaving my position. We really want to assure Kid we are here for her and love her! We want to facilitate trust and the feeling of security.
We learned from NS training sessions that all adoptions begin with loss. Russia sees their loss and ups it with suspicion. There is suspicion of us as we chose this path and they didn't. The kids encounter this forced immersion and see us, as parents, as the guilty party because it was US that came and took THEM. Even if we are taking them from pain and squalor, we are still taking them from their normal and natural beginnings without their choosing us. SIDE NOTE: For these reasons, young international adoptees can have trouble with fantastial stories like Alice in Wonderland and Harry Potter because of the kids being forced into an entire new environment that is scary! I will have to ensure there is no fear of Harry in this house. I have secretly already planned to order the wand that corresponds with Kid's birthday... whenever that may be! So, adoptions begin with suspicion and they are forced to cope.
We learned about coping behaviours and what to expect our reactions to be for each type. We were also told that these behaviours are to be expected for the first 6 months. If it persists longer than that, we are encouraged to seek help of an adoption specialist therapist. By 6 months, Kid should have shifted into adjustment behaviours (mind you, this still isn't comfort, it is just acceptance and adapting and the knowledge that Mike and I are the "go to" people because we are here to protect Kid).
Oh, another side note: We are encouraged to think of Kid with a family age as well as the actual age. The family age can often coincide with developmental age because the family is a new day zero. To further illustrate this: if we are privileged enough to adopt Dania, she will be about 18 months, but when she turns 2, her family age is only 6 months. Man different stages to overlap and restart. So fascinating!
On to the classic coping behaviours. These are coping behaviours for many situations, but, as I understand, an orphan will fit one type more than the others, so it will seem like an adjustment, because some of these behaviours involve interaction and cooperation, but until Kid begins to exhibit different types of behaviour it is probably a coping behaviour.
Before I get into the types, I want to relay the metaphor we were given last night. It is like a kid being suddenly pushed into a pool while fully clothed. There is instant shock and panic. Sometimes the kid is old enough to know how to swim, which will change the way he thinks, but either way, the kid feels weighed down and a sinking sensation from the soaked clothing and lack of air. There is a point where they can decide to take control of the situation, orient themselves and find the surface, and then, if they know how, they can swim towards it. If they don't know how they still know that's the way to go but will flail and desperately reach for it. I loved this. I know how to swim and am very confident in the water but it is a suffocating atmosphere. I can hold my breath for well over a minute but as soon as I am submersed I have a sense of panic so I can't function as well as I know how to. It makes soooo much sense. Our instructor also relayed that kids as young as 9 months will exhibit these behaviours, because even if they won't necessarily remember the orphanage, they are still currently aware that a HUGE upset has occurred in their life! She also relayed that she knows a girl who was adopted at 3, it has been 6 years and she can descriptively describe her memories of the change from one home to another. It was the biggest CHANGE in her life and therefore the most ingrained. We were told to use words like "change" because that is easier for a child to understand instead of "adoption." Eventually, the child will understand adoption, but emphasize the change aspect as this will be the part that they understand the most.
OK, There are five classic coping types:
1. The Rock Response - This is a child who is in complete denial over their current situation. They feel rejected and question why everything happened - but question it in silence. This is an "acting in" behaviour. They will sit solemn and curled around themselves, refusing to interact with games, conversations, meals, etc. Completely turned inside. It is important for parents not to feel rejected and ignored. They child is coping! We just have to work extra hard to get any response from Kid and constantly assure them it is ok and we are there for them.
2. Ragdoll Response - This is another "acting in" behaviour. The child is in acceptance of their change of circumstance, but in total shock from it. They have no control over their body and just flop over wherever they are sat down. (Think of picking up a kid who is asleep). It is often not a continuous behaviour but will be lapsed into unexpectedly. Characteristic "deer in the headlight" vacant stare. This behaviour can illicit more frustration from the parents as there seems to be no focus. The kid will interact but then suddenly lose interest and 'ragdoll.'
3. Dizzy Performer - This child is also in denial and tries to avoid the present situation by being so busy and random. He is often charming, with a smile or act, but doesn't make a connection to anyone. It doesn't matter who comes into the room, there is no shyness or caution. These are kids who don't sleep well and can literally drop to sleep at random times. They are seen as hyperactive and don't feel immediate pain. The parents take pride in the seeming independence and interaction from the child but will be puzzled by the risk taking and non-stop action. These kids don't learn from mistakes or lessons about bad behaviour. This also leads to frustration.
4. The Royal Boss - This is the "my way or the high way" attitude. These kids feel out of control and want security and try to get it themselves. When they don't get what they want they throw tantrums. These kids don't understand consequences and don't understand boundaries. Parents feel unable to control these kids and feel forced to start using punishments (that aren't understood because they are just trying to gain a security that they just lost!) and can find themselves feeling angry or unable.
5. The Unwilling Guest - These are usually kids who are 2 or older. They feel rejected but are full of hope they can return to their normal world if they behave. These kids usually had a connection with someone before, whether it was a relative or caregiver, but they have lost this connection and act 'perfect' in order to get the reward of that person coming back. Parents of these kids often feel like they have a stranger living in their house as there is no connection made (the kid wants the previous connection), and it is difficult to feel compassion for these kids. They don't act out but they don't convey their hurt.
OK, these behaviours are to be expected - but not consistently longer than 6 months. The best way to help encourage the transition from coping to adjustment is STRUCTURE!
We were told that with all of these coping behaviours we have to keep ensuring that we are there to help and we love them, but by showing consistency in routine and structuring our days and weeks, we are showing security.
Everything is overstimulating for an institutionalized child who has just been forced into immersion in a new world! Unlike a child who grows with a family from birth and gets to know the routine in their house, if we bring home Kid one day and then go out to the grocery store the next day, this new change can induce fear of a second big change. Only introduce one new activity each day, from setting the table, to laundry, to preparing food. ONLY ONE! Endure any meltdowns that occur and judge whether or not you can do a different one the next day or whether it is necessary to repeat the same. Keep meal times, nap times, bath times, etc all the same at first. Wait until they show they are adjusted before shifting things. If it is necessary to go to appointments, only schedule one a week to help avoid over stimulation. You have to limit the number of new daily activities because the child may also display delayed reactions to these changes. Say we go to the drug store week 2, she may be fine and on perfect behaviour (because of fear that we are giving her away) and not react until much later out of relief from the fear. It was emphasized that we must move slow, slow, slow. No parties for the first bit (kids are often given a goodbye party at the orphanage), definitely no planes or hotels for the first year, if possible. This child had grown accustomed to a routine (at the orphanage) and then is suddenly forced into what we see is normal and mundane but, to them, it is foreign and scary.
It was so fascinating. If I could type it all out, I totally would. She couldn't emphasize enough how the littlest thing may cause major stress. No matter how young we are adopting.
I am so glad we are both planning on taking the maximum time off. Mike will be officially on parental leave and I will just be leaving my position. We really want to assure Kid we are here for her and love her! We want to facilitate trust and the feeling of security.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
9 Sleeps
I often feel like I don't even know what to do with myself right now. I have school work and house work but I find myself drifting towards Kid's room and just staring...hoping.
Our assignment went well, and we have a second video session tomorrow night. I was asked how I feel about all of the possibilities for trauma trouble. Maybe I'm being naive, and I'm sure people might judge me as cocky, but that part of this process doesn't scare me. I feel like I will be able to deal with any issues that crop up once Kid is home; it's everything leading up to that that I have no control over. I still get quite scared when I think about how all of those doctors will be judging me, and then the judge, and then someone could change their mind again in those thirty days that follow the custody hearing.
I fear I am suffering from a massive case of the "what ifs."
Our assignment went well, and we have a second video session tomorrow night. I was asked how I feel about all of the possibilities for trauma trouble. Maybe I'm being naive, and I'm sure people might judge me as cocky, but that part of this process doesn't scare me. I feel like I will be able to deal with any issues that crop up once Kid is home; it's everything leading up to that that I have no control over. I still get quite scared when I think about how all of those doctors will be judging me, and then the judge, and then someone could change their mind again in those thirty days that follow the custody hearing.
I fear I am suffering from a massive case of the "what ifs."
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