THE DYNAMICS OF AN INTERVENTION
I don’t like to discuss addiction and the issues that plagued Noah’s birth parents much on this blog (it’s depressing!) but this is something that I thought was worth writing. I’ve referred to addiction as a disease before and, after experiencing it firsthand in my family, I continue to attest to that statement. It’s not a problem that can resolve itself through willpower alone. While individual willpower is necessary, so are the tools and care provided by seasoned medical staff.
My family always had suspicion that my sister, Noah’s mother, was dabbling in drug use after the birth of Sister Z (and, even to a degree, before that). We weren’t certain what the extent of her problems were but we knew that something was terribly wrong. This was shortly after the birth of Noah and all of her other children were living in unofficial arrangements with other family members. She had gone weeks on end not seeing some of them and she just looked physically ill. Noah seemed well cared for on the surface (although I didn’t see him frequently during that time) but looking back and having experienced parenthood on my own now, I recognize the signs of neglect and his inability to emotionally bond.
Another sister and I tried to stage an intervention before DCBS got involved. Essentially, at the time, we asked that she enter a treatment program and hand over custody of her children to us. We promised to spare no expense in regards to raising the children and that we would establish a fund using some of their child support payments so that she would be able to re-establish her life more easily after treatment. At the time she claimed that she absolutely did not have a problem and there seemed to be no amount of urging that would coerce to reveal the truth.
Denial is difficult to overcome, especially when you feel an immense amount of shame over your actions. Noah’s mother was never honest about her problems because of how much shame she felt. Our family was never honest about what we suspected because our perception was that revealing the truth would expose much bigger issues than we felt equipped to handle. Addiction doesn’t go away or get better on its own and so our problems mushroomed.
In retrospect, I can see why our intervention wasn’t successful. There are at least five aspects of an intervention that must be followed and identified in order for it encourage the addict to seek help:
OFFICIAL SIBLING VISITS HAVE ENDED
Noah had his last official sibling visit with Brother E and Baby S this past week. I gotta tell ya, dropping him, my mom, and Sister Z off at the DCBS offices Wednesday morning was bittersweet. In a certain respect, I am so glad that we are no longer working with social workers and foster care representatives within the constraints of their program and oversight. On the flip side, the security of knowing that the bi-weekly visits will continue is over.
Still, I can’t help but be overwhelmed with gratitude and praise God that the babies were placed with reasonable and loving parents. The foster mom said that she would like to continue meeting up monthly, just on a more flexible schedule and at a more centralized location. (They live pretty much as south as our county extends and the scheduled visits were at a facility as north as you can get). I’m hoping we can schedule more engaging activities for the kids instead of having them cramped in that dingy, stuffy DCBS office. Foster mom even sent Noah home with some photos of the babes from Easter. I wish I could post them here because it’s unbelievable how much they all resemble one another!
Another day in fosterland and a major chapter in our life closing. Our separate lives will continue to forge ahead. I hope that this will make us feel even more blessed for those moments when we can come together so the children can spend time together. I’m sure there will be tension and hurt feelings that we will have to work through but, for now, I will be optimistic that everything will turn out alright.
LASTEST DEVELOPMENTS IN TODDLERLAND
Some of the more adorable things that have emerged from toddlerland over the past couple weeks:
- Noah is obsessed with all things related to our cat - feeding her, cleaning out her “pee pee box” (although, obviously, we don’t let him do that), playing games her, and cuddling with her on the couch in the evenings.
- Noah has learned to say “You’re mean!” in the cutest, not-so-threatening voice ever. This is a language milestone (expressing emotion) we had hoped to tackle much earlier, but it’s so encouraging seeing him articulating opinions even if he’s saying something not-so-nice.
- On that same topic, since his speech has been a bit behind, he’s tried to supplement his language by very dramatic reenactments and hand movements to relate stories to us. It’s hilarious to see him fall off his bike and then run up to us and reenact the entire ordeal (even though we saw it happen).
- He’s LOUD and he thinks it’s hilarious. The more you tell him to “shush”, the louder he gets. He bellows out “OH YEAH!” at the top of his lungs at least a few times at the grocery store when I drop food in the cart that he likes. It’s actually sort of embarrassing, but I can’t help but laugh when he does it (I probably shouldn’t encourage this!).
- When taking his daily gummy multivitamins (he gets two), he tries to trick me into giving him three. He’ll say, “Two, Mama?” and hold up three fingers. I’ll hand him two and count them out and he’ll say, “Mama! Two!” and hold those three fingers up again. When I tell him he’s actually got three fingers up and I count them out, he’ll smirk and say, “Nooooo, it’s two!
- He wants to pick out at least one item from his wardrobe to wear every day. Whether that be his shirt, shoes, or socks, he interjects his opinion on what he should wear. Snow boots on a 75 degree day? Sure, why not.
What cute new developments are happening with your little ones?
UPDATE ON NOAH’S MOM
Last Monday I had lunch with Noah’s mother. She has completed treatment and is now in a sober living facility just a few miles from her treatment center. She is given passes to visit home to take care of some logistical things (child support hearings, etc) which is why she was in town at the time. It was the first time I had seen her since before she entered treatment last year. And, WOW, what a difference our interactions were. We had chatted on the phone a few times before that so I was already optimistic that our meeting would be positive. I can’t tell you how much of a difference treatment has made. I can only describe my previous interactions with her as being on an emotional roller coaster - mitigating dips into dark, angry tirades and hills of chatty, incoherent highs.
She is now pleasant and positive albeit even-tempered and serious. She spoke of the past as a dangerous period when she felt like nothing matter, when bad circumstances caused her to believe that all was lost. She spoke of a commitment to recovery rooted in her spirituality and a future of being a mentor to her older children and eventually a parent. We’ve been texting every couple of days since then. After so many years of having her lost, I finally feel like I have a sister back - an adult sister that I never got the chance to know. Granted, our conversations are still not the most normal - discussing treatment and court dates and adoption proceedings - but instead of receiving an urgent “I need your help!”, she’s found it easier to just say, “How is your day?”
She’s far from home so I’m still terribly afraid that she will become isolated, lonely, and depressed and that will lead her back to her previous life. I don’t want her to feel like all of her efforts were for nothing - that she will have no life with her children once she is able to gain some semblance of normality back home (if this is where she chooses to come). I’m not certain what I can do other than provide her with the positive emotional support I have during our conversations. But I’m still not certain what her recovery means in terms of her relationship with Noah. I’ve shared photos and videos of him with her and talked about his developmental milestones and achievements but she seems aware that she will never have the mother-son bond that was lost years ago. She seems okay with that but there is still so much more ground to cover. Do we call her “Mommy C”? Aunt C? Does she take on the role of birth mom like in some “traditional” open adoptions or is she integrated into our life as an aunt or a friend? So many questions still to answer. I suppose, for now, we’ll just continue working on what it means to be sisters.
