Friday, March 6, 2009

Endless Winter


That is where I feel like I am right now, a long winter with no end in sight.
I think I've hit the proverbial wall - I've lost my mojo, my groove . . . you get the picture. We've been seeing our attachment therapist weekly and doing all of the "right" things to help Hannah heal. I was prepared for having a long, hard road ahead of us. I was geared up and feeling full of purpose and motivation. I was relieved to have finally named the shadow over my daughter and ready to fight it to the death. I guess I wasn't prepared for all of that to slowly leak out of me until I found myself here again. In the place where I feel defeated and exhausted mentally, spiritually, and physically. In my efforts to bond and attach with Hannah, she has matched me play for play. We saw some really encouraging results those first couple of weeks, but I'm afraid it was our new tactics just threw her temporarily off her game. She has responded by throwing new behaviors into the mix, and I just feel so tired. I can't explain what it's like when every single bit of your mental and emotional energy is used up just trying to keep it all together. Keeping a warm, loving smile on your face when what you want to do is scream and shout. Forcing yourself to hug and love on your child when you'd much rather not even be in the same room with them because they've just spent the past several hours doing everything they can to drive you insane. She wants to push me away . . . I get it.
It's working.
It's working, and I'm deeply disappointed in myself. Our therapist keeps assuring me that what I do matters much more than what I feel. I know this, but I keep waiting and hoping that I'll start to feel differently - because having to keep such careful guard over myself during every minute of every day is making me feel seriously fried. There is this feeling of being constantly switched "ON", of always being poured out without the opportunity to recharge.
I feel like I may win a blog award for the whiniest post in history. Surely I'm at least in the running after this one. It's hard to put myself out there like this, to be so raw in such a public place. But the alternative would completely negate the reasons I chose to share about our family's battle with attachment disorder in the first place.
This is where I honestly am, and maybe someone reading this is there too, and now they know they aren't alone.
The bright side of all of this is that as much as I might feel like giving up, I won't.
I will continue to fight for my daughter, no matter how bleak my chances look right now.
Maybe I won't win, but I won't stop.
I'm her mother, and whether or not that idea ever appeals to her - here we are, walking this road together.
Glimpses of Spring
I see God's hand, reassuring me when I need it the most. Just when I feel like the call I felt to adopt was probably just indigestion, He shows me that I really am supposed to be here. There is a certain little boy who has spent the last year with friendly-to-ambivalent feelings towards me at best. But on a daily basis, he comes closer. First, he began reluctantly allowing me to show him affection. It was clear he was humoring me at first, but then one day I felt him relax into my embrace, and noticed an expectant look on his face as he waited for his goodbye kiss before school. Then, he began initiating affection towards me. Now, we're just in a full blown love fest. In fact, last night Eli initiated his first ever "group hug" while I was hugging Emma good night. Oh, let me tell you - it took my breath away.
Emma said, "Wow, I think that's the first time Eli's hugged me on purpose!"
(I should have asked how he'd happened to hug her by accident.)
Now that the group hug stage has been reached, this weekend I'm going to teach him to sing Cumbaya. It's time.
Eli's new favorite thing to do is help me make dinner. He's the kind of child that you only have to show something once, and he's got it down. While we cook, we talk - two way conversations being another new development in our relationship. He likes my sense of humor, it's alot like his. We joke, tease, and laugh alot together. I feel like I've been given the most amazing gift, watching this boy heal - watching him become. And that's when I know that I'm supposed to be here, that I'm on the path that was meant for me.
Even though it's uphill most of the way, and it's rocky and my shoes fell apart long ago and I'd love to just sit down and refuse to walk any farther.
I know that God wouldn't have placed me somewhere hope didn't exist.
That's just not how He works, and because I know that, I choose to keep walking.

4 comments:

Kimberly said...

My heart aches for how down you are feeling. Wish I were there to give you a big hug--but I know that would pale in comparison to the honest, open hugs you wish to get from your daughter.

Just remember, the more she pushes you away, the more she needs you.

If you need further proof that you are in the right place (on her behalf, not just Eli's), look at it this way: You are beginning to understand what she needs so badly, and a lesser person would have given up trying long ago. God gave her to you because he knew you would have the fortitude to carry on when things looked bleak. He has confidence in you, and you therefore must have confidence in yourself.

I wish you lived closer--I'd offer some therapeutic massage to help you recharge the batteries when you're running low.

Hang in there, and know that I love and admire and respect you for everything you continue to be.

Love,
K

Corie Barnhart-Grogan said...

My beautiful daughter, I wish I had just a fraction of the talent that you have to express myself on paper so perfectly. But, I don't so I will say it just very simply...I am so proud of you that I could pop! As I said to you earlier in the week...so many times when I watch you and listen, I think to myself..Wow, that's my daughter!! And I feel so blessed and in awe to be your mother.
I hurt for you while you go thru this "winter season". I am confident that it truly is a season and at the end there will be a glorious harvest! You are an incredible mother (as well as wife, daughter, sister and friend) and we all are so happy and blessed to be a part of your life.
As the writer of Hebrews reminds us: "God is not unjust to forget your work and labor of love which you have showed toward His name.."(6:10)
Jennifer, you are my hero!
I love you..
Mom

Clint and Jennifer said...

Oh, Jen, first of all, can I just say, you were not the least bit whiney. You were honest and humble- that is something we could all use a little more of, so I'm thankful you shared from your heart. That's what makes for a really wonderful blog post in my opinion anyway, is that no matter where you are, up or down, I just appreciate it when it's written from the heart. Like mom said, you have a way of expressing yourself perfectly. I'm just sorry you are in the valley right now and there isn't much any of us can do to help you out. Ah, as soon as I say that, I am reminded, we can pray. And pray we will, sweetheart. You are strong and courageous, and the most awesome mommy ever. How I wish Hannah would just accept that and the love you have for her and quit all this.
All that said, NEVER underestimate the power of prayer. You pray for that girl, Jen- every time she comes close, grab her, and just pray over her little heart and mind, even if it's only for a few seconds. God is real, He is more powerful than anything we can imagine, and I believe He will answer, and already is.
Thanks for being my hero (too)!
Love you,
Jen

Clint and Jennifer said...

Okay, after re-reading my comment, I just have to say, it sounded so agressive: "grab that girl" ... Geez.
I think I should add, "and hug her" after that grab her part.
Ahh, now that's much better...

TEE HEE ;)
Your sissy