I always say that the kid's transitions into our home and family were so easy that sometimes I consider it a bit scary. When I really think about it, it seems too good to be true. However, then I have days like this when I stumble across something that takes me back to around them time we got them, and it everything seems like a blur. I honestly don't remember a lot about the first year we had the kids. I was trying to tell someone the other day about something that happened a couple of months before the kids came to us. As I talked, I just couldn't remember the specifics and confused myself. It wasn't anything important but it definitely frustrated me that I couldn't remember. It is a terrible feeling to have to call someone and ask them about something that happened in your own life within the last 4-5 years because your memory is so hazy.
I lost my job the day before we got the call about the kids. I really liked my job but the crazy thing is that I didn't get around to grieving the loss of it until about two years after the fact. Everything happened so fast, it is like I didn't have time to grieve, accept it and move on until Zippy started pre-school full-time. Then it hit me. Hard.
These are just a couple of examples of my mind playing tricks on me and I think it due to stress of our fast and dramatic lifestyle changes that came along with these kids. Now that the fog has lifted, I keep finding myself so angry and upset with those that were around me and closest to me during those critical times. Those that failed to lend a helping hand or recognize that I was struggling. In hindsight, I recognize that we were in a true survival mode. While, I hate that I can't remember much about that first year, I wouldn't go back in time and do it over again even if I could. It was that rough.
I recently received a baby shower invitation for a family member. This is her second baby boy in less than three years. I will admit to anyone that yes, I am bitter. No, it isn't anything to do with pregnancy or a baby. It just hurts me that no one, not one family member commemorated the arrival of my children. These hard feeling are not over stuff, the material things. It is about the fact that nobody in my small, once tightly knit family thought enough enough to buy them a toy, an outfit, blanket or whatever. The fact that they were so poor and needed so much makes it that much more painful. A year and a half ago, I said something about this to my uncle to which is replied "Well Shana, people look at you and Billy and they didn't think you needed anything." Oh, I thought it was the thought that counted and no one thought enough of them or us. I know with all my being that it would have been so much different had I brought triplets home from the hospital. However, there is no pomp and circumstance when you get three, poor foster kids.
I'm getting stronger each day. Each day that goes on, my situation with my family gets easier to deal with. I will never apologize. Ever. I know this blog drives my family crazy and it isn't my intention to inflict pain. However, these are my feelings and I'm not censoring them so some people can save face. I have nothing to apologize about because they wrote their own chapters in our adoption story. I have had so many emails and FB messages from complete strangers pouring their love out to me and offering kind and encouraging words. I can't even begin to tell everyone how thankful I am when I get those little notes as they usually arrive at the times that I need them most. As Easter approaches, I will surround by the family that I decide to create for myself and not those bound by blood. Everything is going to be all right.
