tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31386595548565824092024-03-13T14:57:11.640-07:00When Love was Not Enough: Parenting our RAD ChildThe journey of adopting our son with Reactive Attachment Disorder. The trials, the tribulations, the celebrations, and the ending in disruption.Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.comBlogger252125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-20327335057265097442014-06-21T21:57:00.000-07:002014-06-21T21:57:32.039-07:00A Pair of Shoes<div>
This evening I found this poem on another blog that I read. This mom has a little girl with down syndrom. This<a href="http://www.littlewonders-heather.blogspot.com/"> mom</a> has a little girl with cancer. This <a href="http://www.littlewonders-heather.blogspot.com/">mom</a> posted this poem on the day of her little girls diagnosis last October.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
This poem speaks volumes. </div>
<div>
This poem....really talks about how <strong><em>I feel tonight. </em></strong>As I spoke w/the group home owner tonight in re: to Cor...my shoes really were bothering me. </div>
<div>
This evening those shoes felt like they were ripping my feet apart. <br />
<br />
I hope and pray that the shoes I have worn for the last <a href="http://when-love-was-not-enough.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-21-1999.html">10 years</a> can only get a little more comfortable.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: verdana,sans-serif;">A Pair of Shoes<br /><br />I am wearing a pair of shoes.<br />They are ugly shoes.<br />Uncomfortable shoes.<br />I hate my shoes.<br /><br />Each day I wear them, and each<br /> day I wish I had another pair.<br /><br />Some days my shoes hurt so bad<br />that I do not think I can take<br />another step.<br /><br />Yet, I continue to wear them.<br /><br />I get funny looks wearing these shoes.<br /><br />I can tell in others eyes that they<br /> are glad they are my shoes and not<br />theirs.<br /><br />They never talk about my shoes.<br /><br />To learn how awful my shoes are<br />might make them uncomfortable.<br /><br />To truly understand these shoes<br />you must walk in them.<br /> <br />But, once you put them on, you can<br />never take them off.<br /><br />I now realize that I am not the<br />only one who wears these shoes.<br /><br />There are many pairs in this world.<br /><br />Some women ache daily as they try<br /> and walk in them.<br /><br />Some have learned how to walk in<br />them so they don't hurt quite as much.<br /><br />Some have worn the shoes so long that<br />days will go by before they think about<br />how much they hurt.<br /><br /> No woman deserves to wear these shoes.<br /><br />Yet, because of these shoes I am a<br />stronger woman.<br /><br />These shoes have given me the strength<br />to face anything.<br /><br />They have made me who I am.<br /><br />I will forever walk in the shoes of a<br /> woman who had a child with R.A.D.</span></em></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: verdana,sans-serif;">I will forever walk in the shoes of a</span></em></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: verdana,sans-serif;">woman who had to disrupt her adoption</span></em></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: verdana,sans-serif;">in order to protect the other children</span></em></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: verdana,sans-serif;">in her home.<br /><br />*Author Unknown*</span></em></strong> </div>
Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-72318117894071095282014-06-15T18:36:00.000-07:002014-06-15T18:36:37.800-07:00~Life as I Know It~I've taken a break from my blog over the last year and half. You may notice there are several blog posts that are no longer published. Give me some time and they will be back. One of the main things I am going to be doing is taking the full name of my children out of posts. There may still be some here and there in the ones that I have choose to publish.<br /><div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Things have changed quite a bit in our family. And yet at the same time things are the same. My oldest will be 15 and youngest will be 12 in August. J and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary in January of this year. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The last I knew Cor was headed (or in) prison. As callus as it might sound...it is a good place for him. He has a roof over his head and meals provided. He will be given medication. He is safe from the outside world. My family and I are safe. That my friends is comforting to my heart. There is healing in knowing we are all safe, for now.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Last September I had the opportunity to attend the<i> Utah Trauma Moms</i> Retreat. Just as going to Orlando was life changing. Going to the Utah moms retreat was life changing. It was something that <i style="font-weight: bold;">I needed to do for me.</i> There was some major upheaval in my life at that time. However, at the end of the retreat it was very clear to me that I would <b>never</b> miss again. The retreat has changed into something bigger and better. <b><u><a href="http://www.hoperisingforfamilies.org/" target="_blank"> Hope Rising</a></u></b> was born and the dream to bring multiple retreats throughout the United States was born. There is a ton of exciting new things happening. I'm thankful to be a part of this group ladies. Who have a mission of truly offering support to families with Reactive Attachment Disorder. More importantly, a mission of helping each of the moms we support know their true value, self worth, and find healing from the depths of despair.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Recently, I wrote a post called<b><i><a href="http://www.hoperisingforfamilies.org/2014/06/beautiful-heart-break.html" target="_blank"> "Beautiful Heartbreak"</a></i></b> as a guest blogger.<br /><br /></div>
Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-76979708027956028572012-07-15T18:01:00.001-07:002012-07-15T18:01:46.502-07:00RED BRICK BUILDING<div><p>I sat in the van as my husband got gas. I sat nearly paralized staring at the Red Brick Building that sits high on the corner of the main intersection in this small town.</p>
<p>My husband asked me to go into get drinks and something for the drive home. I declined. Telling him that I would prefer to stay in the car. </p>
<p>As I sit here staring at that Red Brick Building, the tears begin to fall even harder. Now they sting my cheeks as I wipe them away.</p>
<p>My mother heart and deep love tells me we should drive across the street and walk into the Red Brick Building on the corner.</p>
<p>And the common sense part of my mother heart says "that would not be smart."</p>
<p>The Red Brick Building is where C turned 18 years old a few weeks ago. <br>
It is the County Jail.<br><br><br></p>
</div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-42897071690110515722012-06-21T02:30:00.000-07:002012-06-24T21:35:30.580-07:0018There really are no words to describe how much my heart hurts today. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Never imagined that the grief would still sting as so much. </div>
<div>
<br />I've been all over the map the last few years in regards to C. Often there are moments in life that I'm okay with this journey and where it led us. Being able to accept it for what it is.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then there are moments as in the last several weeks, where the pain and sorrow cut so incredible deep. Where depression creeps in, guilt takes over, and everything else about this experience goes to an entirely new level.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Happy 18th Birthday C. <br /><br />As I said...there really are not words. I've spent most of this week crawled up in bed, tears falling, and wondering what the fuck we did wrong, why couldn't <i>we do this.....</i> and so much other mental garabage.</div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-15612699221112572542012-06-09T09:30:00.001-07:002012-06-09T09:30:07.437-07:00Hard StuffIt has been an incredible hard few days. I keep track as much as I can on C's and his whereabouts (as in where he is living) as much as I can. Few days ago finding out that he graduated from high school was much tougher than I expected and it was a year early.<br /><br />There are many reasons why this is tough. I blogged on another blog about it. The anger, frustration, and grief came spilling out in a rather not so good manner.<br />
<br />
It was suggested that I should be proud of him. I know that my comments and thoughts didn't come across as being proud. I am extremely proud of him. However, I can not take responsibility for it. If I (or we) had such a positive influence on his life, things would have not turned out the way they did. <br />
I have so much more I want to say. However, I really don't know that I want to on here. Even though, I don't blog as often the blog stats still show regular readers. I've contemplated closing this blog or just <em>ending it with a final post.</em> I've btdt many times. I'm really not sure what I want and in the meantime I will just leave it the way it is.<br />
<br />Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-67434991552088764512012-05-28T20:15:00.001-07:002012-05-28T20:15:31.579-07:00When an Adoption Must DisruptWhen <a href="http://www.welcometomybrain.net/2009/01/when-adoption-must-disrupt.html" target="_blank">this</a> post was orginally wrote a few years ago, I found great comfort in it. It came at a time when I had received several comments and emails damning me for <em>telling</em> our story. It isn't anyone else's story to tell. It is mine and only mine.<br />
<br />
There are <em>many many things</em> that never made it to this blog regarding our story.<br />
And there are <em>many many things</em> that will never make it to this blog regarding our story.<br />
<br /><a href="http://www.welcometomybrain.net/2009/01/when-adoption-must-disrupt.html" target="_blank">When an Adoption Must Disrupt</a> was wrote by Christine.<br />
<br />
I hope the person who contacted me a few weeks ago regarding is able to find comfort and peace in whatever stage they may/may not be in. <br /><br />Our child will turn 18. One month from today. I've kept myself <strong>very very </strong>busy today. Trying <strong>very hard</strong> not to think about. Trying <strong>very hard</strong> not to grieve the loss. It hasn't been very easy. It has taken me several attempts of retreating to my bedroom/bathroom in order to compose myself.<br />
<br />
There is absolutely NO way around making disruption easy. <br /><br />Ever. <br /><br />For anyone involved. <br /><br />Even though time passes, pain lessons, and children and families go on with their lives.....underneath all of the above lies grief and pain.<br />
<br />Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-84607096139653064792012-05-28T17:57:00.000-07:002012-05-28T17:57:05.229-07:00Previous Post on DisruptionRecently, someone commented asking about a post that I linked to re: adoption disruption. <br /><br />I have deleted several of the old posts from my blog for personal reasons. <br /><br />I don't believe I deleted that particular post. I just can't find it. I will continue looking. In the meantime, I've contacted Christine over at <a href="http://www.welcometomybrain.net/" target="_blank">Welcome to My Brain</a> asking her if she knew off hand what the name of the post was or where in her archives it would be.<br />
<br />
Sorry to not be more helpful.<br />
<br />Give me some time. I will find it. <br /><br />Love, GStory of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-9900430514388764012012-01-02T16:47:00.000-08:002014-06-28T11:41:46.012-07:00Holidays Came...and went with muchy more ease than in years past.<br />
<br />
I still struggled. However, not nearly <em>as much as I have in years past</em>. <br />
<br />
The struggle was more in the realm of other abuse/trauma related to my own childhood. Things that have never been address. Clearly...the struggles have been my own personal issues than issues related to our disruption. Issues related to my own health and the ability to not take any type of RX medication w/o having significant fall out. I've blogged a great deal on my private depression related blog (<em>this blog is annon. It does not have private settings. If you would like the link you need to contact me via comments or email for the address)</em> about the up and mostly down battle that 2011 brought. It was by far one of the worst years that I've had in the realm of depression and anxiety. October/November proved to be the toughest of all. And I came close to being hospitalized after having a medication reaction that set me close to the edge. <br />
<br />
Sure disruption sucks.<br />
Sure disruption stings.<br />
Sure when I came across <em>the last </em>picture of all 3 kids taken together my gut sank a lil. But that was it. I was able to look at it for what it was<em><strong>. The last picture of all 3 kids together</strong></em>. Progress...in little pieces is always welcome.<br />
<br />
Christmas evening my inlaws and good friend and their families were here. There was a conversation being had by my friends husband and my SIL. The conversation almost ended with me going postal. Initially, I was very hurt. A few days passed and I mentioned to my friend that her dh was completely clueless about what he was saying. He did not intent on hurting my feelings. However, his comments were not acceptable at anytime in my home. She felt horrible and apologized profusely. My SIL is a bitch. She knew what she was saying. She has over and over in the past made hurtful comments about Cor and our disruption and the situation in general. <br />
<br />
This year the child turns 18 years....and somehow the thoughts and feelings surrounding this milestone will need to be dealt with. I hope and pray that just like the last picture I came across of all 3 children. I will also be able to see it for what it is. He turns 18... Please remind me in June....would you?Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-49003714817830807132011-12-16T09:21:00.000-08:002014-06-28T11:41:45.918-07:00Pics Like This.......brighten and dampen my day all in one. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sNNLyFa3ixE/Tut9vPN6CrI/AAAAAAAAB_c/MrnmF-q7mes/s1600/CORRY+12-25-99.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sNNLyFa3ixE/Tut9vPN6CrI/AAAAAAAAB_c/MrnmF-q7mes/s320/CORRY+12-25-99.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-15294571195218176702011-12-14T18:48:00.000-08:002014-06-28T11:41:45.854-07:00Friendship<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eLKWmizYmbE/TuleMessM9I/AAAAAAAAB_M/w3exYJLsmOY/s1600/friendship+was+born.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eLKWmizYmbE/TuleMessM9I/AAAAAAAAB_M/w3exYJLsmOY/s320/friendship+was+born.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><br />
<br />
It's been one of those days. A day that I've spoke to one of my best friends....several times. The morning started w/a text from her that said "Can I call you?" And then 3-4 hrs later me sending her a message "call me". I think we've spoke 3x's today. <br />
<br />
It's been a day of frustration, illness, tears, disappointment. A day that one of us can say to the other "if xyz has to happen...I'm gonna do xyz" and know that the other will understand, will not over-react, and totally feel the other's pain and frustration.<br />
<br />
I've been in pain most of the last 24 hours. Yet, being able to <em>think and pray</em> for my dear friend and the huge trial she is dealing with in her life right now has TOTALLY taken away from the fact that I'm still having horrible abdominal cramping and have a 101.3 temp and that my son has a 103.4 fever and pneumonia. <br />
<br />
Tonight, I'm extremely thankful for the universe working wonders and our paths passing!!<br />
<br />
I think it is time to look at my calendar and make another road trip to Indiana!! Because, I sure as hell am not waiting 79 more days to Orldando!! That shit is just not gonna fly!!Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-51952945537391448292011-11-23T20:08:00.000-08:002014-06-28T11:41:45.921-07:00Harder than it sounds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHSAJvbh_uY/Ts2_cNJ9pdI/AAAAAAAAB-k/Ozq3VA5776w/s1600/concentrate+on+the+present+moment+%253D+budda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHSAJvbh_uY/Ts2_cNJ9pdI/AAAAAAAAB-k/Ozq3VA5776w/s1600/concentrate+on+the+present+moment+%253D+budda.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
....to stay present.<br />
<br />
Checked the <em>Court Hearing Status</em> for Cor online.<br />
<br />
I <em>know</em> what he did was bad.<br />
I <em>know </em>that he would have some significant consequences.<br />
I <em>know these things....</em><br />
<br />
Yet, I was not prepared to read....<br />
<div class="labeledValue"></div><div class="labeledValue">.....yet another court hearing that will be his arraignment. </div><div class="labeledValue"></div><div class="labeledValue">Can't really say what it does to my heart.</div><div class="labeledValue"></div><div class="labeledValue">I can't seem to stop the flood of tears since reading this. <br />
<br />
This is the thing...</div><div class="labeledValue"></div><div class="labeledValue">He is still a baby. <br />
He shouldn't have to spend Thanksgiving in jail. (<em>I will venture to say he is in jail since 2 of his several charges are bail jumping.)</em></div><div class="labeledValue">He shouldn't have to spend Christmas in jail.</div><div class="labeledValue"></div><div class="labeledValue">Guilt and grief....full force.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-43172483534668521862011-11-07T19:10:00.000-08:002014-06-28T11:41:45.908-07:00Radical Acceptance<dt><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-0 goog_qs-tidbit-hilite"><strong>Radical Acceptance</strong></span></div></dt><br />
<dt><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-0 goog_qs-tidbit-hilite">Letting go of fighting reality.</span></div></dt><br />
<dt><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-0 goog_qs-tidbit-hilite"><br />
THIS is a VERY hard concept for me. I will not deny it. I will not deny that I don't believe it 100%. I will not deny that I'm struggling with this concept on an hourly basis right now. Not only in regards to our disruption and all that surrounds it. But, with other aspects as well.</span></div></dt>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-76206305827582140032011-11-03T19:52:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.972-07:00Court Records<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-56wBhzzPrG8/TrNQ4wdNqEI/AAAAAAAAB-M/upC6EYXfqiU/s1600/swearing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-56wBhzzPrG8/TrNQ4wdNqEI/AAAAAAAAB-M/upC6EYXfqiU/s1600/swearing.jpg" /></a></div>Our state has a website to view current and past court preceedings/charges of individuals. If you get a speeding ticket - it will be on there. If you file bankruptcy - sometimes it will be on there. If you foreclose on your house - it will be on there. If you are arrested for battery, strangulation, bail jumping, and other bullshit....it will be on there.<br />
<br />
Few weeks ago I looked up C. Honestly, I was shocked when I saw his name come up with actual charges. He is not 18. It broke my heart to see 2 counts of disorderly conduct. I knew he was being charged with it. However, I wasn't prepared for it. Does that make any sense?<br />
<br />
This evening, because I'm struggling in a rather raw way, I checked to see what the <em>newest</em> charges were and if I would be able to get an idea if C was still in jail or not. Again, I <em>was not prepared for what I read. I <strong>needed to read he was still in jail. I did not need to read "bail jumping". </strong>Dear Lord he is ONLY 17...bail jumping. </em><br />
<br />
This is what I found: (Name, address, birthdate and such have been removed)<br />
<br />
<em><div align="center" class="head"><strong>Charge(s)</strong> </div><br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" style="width: 791px;"><tbody>
<tr> <td> <div class="label">Count No.</div></td> <td> <div class="label">Statute</div></td> <td> <div class="label">Description</div></td> <td> <div class="label">Severity</div></td> <td> <div class="label">Disposition</div></td></tr>
<tr> <td> <div class="labeledValue">1</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">940.19(1)</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Battery</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Misd. A</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue"></div></td></tr>
<tr> <td> <div class="labeledValue">2</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">940.19(1)</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Battery</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Misd. A</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue"></div></td></tr>
<tr> <td> <div class="labeledValue">3</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">943.01(1)</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Criminal Damage to Property</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Misd. A</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue"></div></td></tr>
<tr> <td> <div class="labeledValue">4</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">946.49(1)(a)</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Bail Jumping-Misdemeanor</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Misd. A</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue"></div></td></tr>
<tr> <td> <div class="labeledValue">5</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">946.49(1)(a)</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Bail Jumping-Misdemeanor</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Misd. A</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue"></div></td></tr>
<tr> <td> <div class="labeledValue">6</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">940.235(1)</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Strangulation and Suffocation</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Felony H</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue"></div></td></tr>
<tr> <td> <div class="labeledValue">7</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">940.44(1)</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Intimidate Victim/Dissuade Reporting</div></td> <td> <div class="labeledValue">Misd. A</div></td></tr>
</tbody></table></em><br />
<br />
and then all I could do was say:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k-z4mBkL77o/TrNTJSNaFlI/AAAAAAAAB-U/ZqXuBvW_3uY/s1600/fuckety+fuck+fuck+fuck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k-z4mBkL77o/TrNTJSNaFlI/AAAAAAAAB-U/ZqXuBvW_3uY/s1600/fuckety+fuck+fuck+fuck.jpg" /></a></div>and....<br />
<br />
......I started a VERY HOT tub of water. Because the hot water somehow...numbs the pain. It was my coping mechnism when C was home. And still is. Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-22643339151336360832011-10-20T22:41:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.863-07:00Wavering<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r9_oTaiwzE8/TqECa7P6JRI/AAAAAAAAB-A/YA8sgLsX0wk/s1600/let+your+faith+be+bitgger....jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r9_oTaiwzE8/TqECa7P6JRI/AAAAAAAAB-A/YA8sgLsX0wk/s320/let+your+faith+be+bitgger....jpg" width="117" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My dh has limited contact w/C. He answers phone calls as he <em>can and feels like it.</em> Often not answering calls unless it has been several calls with in a few day period. And sometimes not even that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Twice in the last month we've received cluster calls. Last month, after several calls there was a 1 day break. Then the FM called and left a message. We found a 'little bit' out that was not coming right from C. Given you can only believe a portion of what he tells you. She seemed pretty on the ball.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fast fwd to yesterday. Several cluster calls. SEVERAL. Dh did listen to the message. It was a collect call from the county jail where he is living. DH was able to figure out how to block calls coming from that number.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Today, a number dh had listed called dh sevearl times. Leaving</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a message the last time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Information <em>I really didn't want to know or </em><em>hear. </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And one of my biggest fears is that one day C will find where we live. Even though we don't have an unlisted address and such and he could easily find us if he choose. We have only cell phones right now so it would make it a tad harder.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">C's FM called. She will no longer be his FM. She will not allow him back in her home. Currently, he is sitting in the county jail. It really breaks my heart. More than I could ever express here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And she has school pictures and some other pictures she wanted to send us. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And asked for our address.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And....<em>dh gave her our address.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>And...when dh told me he gave it to her...I nearly died. It was all I could do not to start sobbing.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Why? WHY? First dh's number was ONLY to be given to caregivers/staff ect ect. Cor would NOT have access to it. Guess what? That didn't happen. He's even managed to call me a few different times. I'mnot happy. I'm terrified. This kid hates me. HATES me. </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>In his current home he has told his FM that he was abused in our home. Yet, he idolizes and looks up to my DH. And respects and listens to my DH. So who would that leave to have abused him? Me....according to him. He knows that </em><strong>I </strong><em>wasthe deciding factor and what transpired between my dh in the end which led to the disruption. He knows that. Someone....some idiot told him. Told him that <strong>I am the bad guy (gal).</strong> Asual for RAD kids. And now...it will only be a matter of time before he gets our address. I just know it.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The FM said she wouldn't give it to him. I'm not worried about that. I'm worried that she will give it to someone else and so forth....and it will be in his hands.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's nearly 1am. I can't sleep. I've been a wreck all day thinking about it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And...I'm not sure that I can see a picture of him w/o falling apart even more. <br />
<br />
What happened with the fact that we disrupted. Or the state terminated our parental rights bc we wouldn't allow him back in our home? And we would no longer have info or access to knowing what/how/where he was? Yet...we do. And <em>today....</em>it is ripping my heart to peaces. Seriously!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sure, I've struggled w/this hole situation. For the MOST part....I've been doing REALLY well when it comes to <em>this crap</em>. And well, flush that idea and thought down the drain. </div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-24908902149028403172011-10-14T07:38:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.876-07:00Missing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AdqoMGqvi6k/TphIkWqyVHI/AAAAAAAAB94/yUNp4TLewkk/s1600/person+you+miss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AdqoMGqvi6k/TphIkWqyVHI/AAAAAAAAB94/yUNp4TLewkk/s1600/person+you+miss.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Been a lil' while since I posted here on this blog. Life has stepped in and taken over. My job is overwhelming and suck-y at best. I have a job. Therefore, I try not to complain to incredible much. Along with life stepping in and taking over. So has depression and anxiety along with it. There are good days. There are bad days. There are just plain shouldn't this day just start over days. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I would have never thought that being 6+ years post disruption (seems like it was JUST FREEKING YESTERDAY) I would still miss my boy as much as I do. Often wonder if the lil bits of info we get from him from time to time makes it harder. I guess I will never know. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I don't miss the drama. I don't miss the rages.I don't miss the pissing everywhere. I don't miss all the RAD crap.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I miss him. I miss his infectious smile. I miss the way he loved his sister. I miss being <em>his mom. </em>I miss being able to take his Senior Pictures. I miss not being able to see him go off to Prom or Homecoming.....I miss those things.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-60306610972782795162011-09-12T11:53:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.934-07:00Broken, Tattered, and ShatteredThose are the 3 words that come to my mind when I think about the last 13 years of our life when it comes to Cor, the system, our experience, our family, the entire situation. <br />
<br />
Just a few days ago, I almost said outloud to one of my sweet soul sisters (or txt bc we txt often) that I am/have been in a pretty good <em>place</em> when it comes to this entire situation. <br />
<br />
I've felt a ton of peace when it comes to Cor and everything that has followed.<br />
<br />
Until today.<br />
<br />
This weekend my dh received 3 phone calls in 2 hours. Not one message was left. None. He will receive cluster calls from Cor during a 2-3 day time period. But often, not several in one day. DH didn't answer them. He didn't acknowledge it. I got worried. Three calls in 2 hours? Could something be wrong? Could he be ill? <br />
<br />
I turned to FB and did some lurking. I know that his BM is friends on FB w/his foster mom. I figured out who his FM was bc I could see who his BM's friends were and well...when you only have a hand full it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Turns out, I was right smack on. I was also smack on that recent supervised visits with BM (per Cor telling my dh about a month ago in a phone conversation) would go sour. BM/FM are no loner friends on FB. Interesting. <br />
<br />
Last night, my dh received 2 phone calls w/in minutes of each other from Cor. The 2nd call there was a message left. He refused to listen to it. Said he didn't care. I can't fault him for not talking to Cor. And doing so only when he feels like he can. He is pretty good about not answering calls when our children are awake or around. It is energy draining for him. And I accept and understand that. Cor has only left 1 message in the 2 years since we were 'located' by one of his group home owners. The last message wasn't a very nice one. And left both my dh and I in a bad spot. So I get why Dh didn't want to listen to it.<br />
<br />
Today is my day off. We decided to go into town this morning after the kids were sent off to school. I knew he hadn't listened to the message. I still said "So, what did Corry want?" He said "oh, I forgot he called." He listened to the message.<br />
<br />
It wasn't Cor. It was his FM. She was wanting to know if DH would give her some background on this kid. What kind of abuse and from whom he had been abused by. And if he had ever abused animals or other children in our home.<br />
<br />
ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME!<br />
<br />
Oi!! We are always happy (or my dh is anyway...and I would be, too) to give any and all information we have on Cor. We love him. We've always loved him. We spent several years giving that chidl everything we had. We filed bankruptcy twice bc we literally spent every penny and then some trying to get him help. No amount of anything was helpful. If by chance, we can share a little bit of something to one of his caregivers now that will HELP THEM or PROTECT THEM or the children in their home OR Cor...then we will do it.<br />
<br />
DH had a 30-45 min. phone conversation w/this lady.<br />
<br />
Cor is in jail. Big person jail. She is giving him 1 more chance and that is ONLY bc he went to respite this weekend and didn't receive his medication and it isn't his fault he didn't receive his meds. True. But in all reality, not really. He attempted to hurt her. I believe he did hurt her. Dh didn't give me exact details and I was able to catch bits and pieces of their conversation.<br />
<br />
DH told FM lots and lots of stuff. As much as one can in a 30-45 min conversation. I was got out of the car when I knew I was about to loose my shit. James made some type of comment that he is <em>always amazed at how highly Cor has held DH on a pedestal (true!!!)</em>. And FM said "OMG...I know. You can do and never have done any wrong in this boys eyes. He highly respects you and what you tell him. If you tell him he needs to shape his shit up and xyz...then for the next several days he will try very hard. Saying "I need to make my dad proud of me". She then proceeded to tell dh that he has told her that he was abused in our home. Which she hasn't believed. But he is adament and consistant about the abuse he endured in <em>our home</em>. <br />
<br />
Fuck. Really?<br />
This is what <em>I hear and internalize</em> in that comment.<br />
<br />
The kid thinks DH can do no wrong and highly respects him. Well, who the hell else does that lead to have abused him? Me. <br />
<br />
It is probably best that I not hear that from him. I might just end up abusing him. Except for the fact he is nearly a foot taller than I am. So that wouldn't go so well I'm sure.<br />
<br />
I'm amazed that <em>this seems to be the longest foster/treatment placement</em> he has had. This lady knew nothing of his previous placements in psych hospital that led to RTC that led to being placed in theraputic home. She knew nothing about him hurting his siblings, nothing about ANYTHING. <br />
<br />
Fuck. REALLY?<br />
I'm pissed today.<br />
I'm hurt today.<br />
I'm angry today.<br />
<br />
I really would love to just run the freeking SW, who is STILL invovled in his care....you know the SAME ONE for the last 10 years....run his ass over. Seriously, it is probably best we don't ever meet on the street. He never be a passenger of mine. I would SOOOO leave his ass in a rain storm. Better yet in a blizzard. Drive right past him...after I spit my gum out at him.<br />
<br />
I know....I'm not very grown up about what I have to say or think or feel. I'm sure I sound like a whiney ass cry baby having a temper tantrum. Guess what? I really don't care. Because that is exactly what I am doing....having a huge freeking tantrum. And it is all I can do not to call the DCFS Social Worker and give him the riot act. <br />
<br />
He failed this kid.<br />
<br />
Again and again and again....<br />
<br />
If I went to work and failed to do my job...the state would no longer allow me to work. If I hurt somoene, I would no longer be allowed to work. We both have state jobs....and this dumbass continues to just mess it up.<br />
<br />
Our family was broken.<br />
Our family was tattered.<br />
Our family was shattered.<br />
<br />
Our son was broken.<br />
Our son was tattered.<br />
Our son was shattered.<br />
<br />
The system is broken.<br />
The system is tattered.<br />
The system is shattered.Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-71835881370132343202011-08-20T22:16:00.001-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.960-07:00We are not alone<div><p>I can not express how thankful and blessed I am right now.</p>
<p>I have a dh who suggested we take a road trip to Indiana to meet up with another Soul Sister.  We are hoping to go Labor Day weekend if my work hours match.  I wasnt 100% on board this morning.  He then suggested to go to Chicago.   After some texting back and forth....quick packing and a 2.5 hr drive...my family is snoring...and I am laying in a hotel room next to a fellow adoptive family and even better a Soul Sister who gets me!  </p>
<p>We share so much in common.   Even more than both of our families have adopted.  We both know the heartache and pain it has brought on so many different levels.</p>
<p>This is the best therapy around!!</p>
</div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-84661031236384304252011-08-17T09:24:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.992-07:00Not for the Faint of HeartOver and over I'm reminded that adoption <strong>and</strong> disruption is not for the faint of heart.<br />
<br />
As a matter of fact it breaks your heart and definately makes your heart even more faint.<br />
<br />
Few weeks ago, Cor called his dad (as he does weekly only my dh doesn't answer the calls often) and informed him he was "meeting up with his bio mom and bio sister". He fed his dad a bunch of "info" that bio birth vessel had filled his head with. Suchh as " she has been clean, sober, and out of trouble for 10+ years". That is a crock of shit if I ever heard one. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to look her up on our states court system and find out...numerous domestic battery, numerous restraining orders, numerous prostition, numerous...IN arrests. She may have not been in prison. But she sure as hell hasn't stopped A: lying and B: stayed out of trouble.<br />
<br />
Whatever. It isn't my problem. Well, if I make it my problem...I guess it is.<br />
<br />
Because I'm gluten for punishment I tend to 'check' up on her on FB. When you only have 11 FB friends and then this week you have 12 listed. It is rather easy to <em>see who your new friend is.</em><br />
<br />
Who might that be?<br />
<br />
My former PCP's nurse and aquaintance...someone whom I thought the world of AND our former "puppy class instructor". Oh' and she is also.....a foster parent <em>and </em>lives in the same town that C lives in. And......has a picture of <em>Cor in her photos!</em><br />
<br />
Just a lovely day it is!Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-72020299536883763762011-08-07T19:24:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.963-07:00I Couldn't Make This Sh*t Up if I Tried...Every step of the way, I have often thought that there is no way I could make up even half of the bs that has surrounded our 'adoption story'. <br />
<br />
You know the one where you and your spouse go through years of infertility. Have 4 specialist in 4 years tell you <em>...Ms _ you will never conceive naturallly.....</em>and then you decide to look into adoption<br />
<br />
Only to find out the cost is above and beyond your <em>current </em>ability so you let it sit on the back burner for awhile. Putting all your faith in the Lord and saying "In HIS time we will move forward. In HIS time we will become parents. In HIS time OUR CHILDREN will be brought to this earthly home of ours...."<br />
<br />
Only to have the agency you orginally contacted and NEVER filled out any paperwork or even give them your info....yolu just inquired...to have <em>them contact you and tell you that YOU were chosen by bio grandparents of a child that WOULD eventually be available for adoption.... </em><br />
<br />
Then not even a year later have that bio family contact you, in an emergency, and have us take the child for emergency respite. <br />
<br />
ONLY to have that emergency placement become...permanent.<br />
<br />
Only...only only only only only......<br />
<br />
to have so many wrongs end up making a right.<br />
<br />
ONLY to have so many rights....end up being WRONG!!<br />
<br />
To have lived your life in such a Christian/Christ-like manner that you were certain <em>this child</em> was your child. And you believed with all your heart that the Lord had orchistrated a true miracle (which I still do believe) when you found out you were pregnant for your first biological child, only a few short weeks <strong>after</strong> you signed the <em>intent to adopt</em> paperwork. Having said ALL ALONG that you would NOT adopt or follow-thru with adopting should we get pregnant before this child was placed w/us permantly for adoption.<br />
<br />
Only...only...only!!<br />
<br />
Only to have so much that seemed so dang right. Go so VERY wrong.<br />
<br />
<strong>I couldn't make this Sh*t up if I tried....</strong><br />
<br />
***you know the disruption sh*t.<br />
***you know the constant phone calls to your dh.<br />
***you know the hooking up w/bio mom on FB and ever so often friend requests that you get.<br />
***you know the constant phone calls to your dh that go unanswered.<br />
***you know the pulling into a McD's parking lot....over an hour from your home, on your way to do a photoshoot....ONLY to see this child...whom you have only seen a picture of on your states waiting child listing and his FB profile pic....to SEE him walking into McD's for breakfast (or lunch...could have been either bc it was right about that time.)<br />
***you know the phone calls...the ones that happen as I'm responding to a blog comment..just seconds before beginning this post.<br />
<br />
Ever so often....as in this last week....I say to myself many times a day...."i couldn't make this shit up if I tried" and a few other things that I will not go into on this blog.Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-24798817337642663642011-07-20T20:23:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.873-07:00There is Healing.........<em>for me. </em><br />
<br />
<em>...slowly.</em><br />
<br />
<em>....very very very very....SLOWLY!<br />
<br />
This evening....I was childless. I was husband-less.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Thank the good Lord!! Oh' how I needed just some "me" time.</em><br />
<br />
<em>My BIL came over. Changed the locks in our new house. Reprogrammed our garage door openers. Did a few other misc. things. He was in-out-gone in less than an hour.</em><br />
<br />
<em>I walked around in my fat shorts. AKA: biker shorts and tank top - incomando and braless. <br />
<br />
Because I can. <br />
<br />
I then....went out into the garage. </em><br />
<br />
<em>Looked for a hammer.</em><br />
<em>Looked for some nails.</em><br />
<br />
<em>And decided to pound some holes in my walls. </em><br />
<em>And decided to look in some boxes and hang up a few pictures.</em><br />
<br />
<em>And....the very first box I opened....was a box that has not been opened in several years. As in....3-4 yrs.</em><br />
<br />
<em>After our disruption we also moved. I never hung up the "adoption day photo collage" and other pics of Cor. There were a few pictures that were put in my dresser drawer. That was about it.</em><br />
<br />
<em>The first large frame that came out of that box (remember I had no clue what was in this box...it just said "pictures")...was our "Adoption Finalization...Mommy was big and fat and pregnant and we were a happy family.....and our Family Sealing Pictures that were taken the day after our finalization".</em><br />
<em><br />
Ouch.<br />
<br />
Or it could have been.<br />
<br />
I looked at it and thought ...."yeah. where is this going to go". <br />
<br />
I was not able to find a spot that I felt was appropriate. It isn't something that I want to be showing out in the open for just anyone to comment on. I am not sure that I am ready for the constant reminder...every day....but somewhere. I think in our downstairs family room is where it will end up. I stuck the frame in my closet w/the other portrait frames I don't know where to put. It did not go back in the "don't hang up and file away pile" like a few of the frames.<br />
<br />
There are times when I can't think, talk, look, see, here....anything that has to do w/this situation. <br />
<br />
And today....I'm able to see a picture and think 'Hot dang that boy is good looking"<br />
<br />
And leave it as....<br />
<br />
it is what it is.<br />
it is out of my control.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wvv2XDK1Rww/TiebqCbs2eI/AAAAAAAAB8w/h0lQUT5BeTg/s1600/CORRY+POSES+IN+THE+TREE+ONE+OF+GRMAS+FAV+PIX.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wvv2XDK1Rww/TiebqCbs2eI/AAAAAAAAB8w/h0lQUT5BeTg/s320/CORRY+POSES+IN+THE+TREE+ONE+OF+GRMAS+FAV+PIX.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div></em>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-61981178062513494202011-07-20T07:47:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.938-07:00On Hope, Grieving, Hurting Parents, and maybe....more.Not sure that I can/will accurately blog about what I really want to say. However, I will give it a try. <br />
<br />
A few days ago I read a blog post that triggered a hot spot for me. My initial response was to comment back. To blog about it. To say what I truly felt. And then I decided not to. "just keep your mouth shut..." and so I did.<br />
<br />
I've not read the comments and honestly, I've not read any other blogs since reading this particular post. It has just touched a sore spot w/me and I decided I needed to step back. I've tried very hard in the last few weeks/months to step back as I get angry/mad about something. "Is this about you? Why am <strong>I</strong> feeling as if this is a direct dig at me? I did what I could with MY kid...." and on and on. Trying to step back from what it was/is that sends me into that lil tail spin. <br />
<br />
So here goes it...my .02 cents.<br />
<br />
I've spend a great deal of energy...<em>angry at the entire situation at hand when it comes down to our adoption, disruption, years of in/out of treatment/respite, the damage done to my other children, ect ect....</em><br />
<br />
At times...yes...I've been angry at my child. Something that Deborah Hage and our local therapist told me over and over and over and over and over was.....This kid has the <strong><em>ability to heal. He </em><em><u>doesn't want to!</u></em></strong> And this is something that I often discount. <br />
<br />
This will be semi short. I can't accurately say what I want/need to say. As I was sitting here writing this out, texting with <a href="http://adoptivefamilyno2.blogspot.com/">Laurie</a> and getting caught up on my google reader that I've not read since reading the original post that sent me in a tizzy....and prompted me to start writing this post. I read a post by <a href="http://www.watchingthewaters.com/2011/07/disservice-to-adoptive-parents.html">Corey</a>. I'm certain that just about anyone that reads my blog....reads Corey's. So if you've not read her post she states what I'm thinking so much more eloquently.<br />
<br />
I will wrap up with one more thought...when your child RAD or not...is hurting your other children. In <em>traumatic</em> manner -- it is very hard to not be angry. Even though I know the RAD/Mental illness part of my son did so much of the damage in my house. I also know, that he purposefully hurt his brother. When the child is able to turn it on/off at the drop of a hat and in the process....his newborn brother and toddler sister were hurt in the process.....yeah...it is really hard to not be angry. It is really hard to not be angry that 5+ years later after we have disrupted we are still living the triangulation and bs on many levels. We still get phone calls. We still get bills. It is really hard to not be angry....when the effects have been so life damaging and continue to wreak havoc on our lives.Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-78227820719644949722011-07-04T17:20:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.978-07:00Steve Holy - Love Don't Run lyrics<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/p3HAVoeuOsU?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br />This is a very powerful song.<br /><br />On so many different levels.<br /><br />It is a very painful song.<br /><br />On so many different levels.<br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br />This evening this song appeared on a google reader blog that I follow.<br /><br />I know this particular blogger probably has no clue that I lurk on her blog daily. I actually am in awe and love her love and faith. And I wish that for one second of the day I could have the strength and courage that this women has.<br /><br />This song is so very powerful....this evening as I heard this song I thought of the young man that sent me a FB friend request this week. How I <em>did leave him</em> and my <em>love did run.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>And...and....and...we didn't get through it!</em><br /><br />This song means so very much.....<br /><br /><em>on such very different levels. </em><br /><em></em><br />Deep breathe in...<br />Deep breathe out...<br />Rinse.<br />Repeat.<br />Lather.Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-27627132929048042612011-06-28T11:47:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.893-07:00A Day of NothingThat is exactly what I'm doing.<br />
Not a darn thing.<br />
Well, maybe unpack a dish here and there.<br />
I was scheduled to work from 2-10pm on a rather bad night run. My old one to be exact. I have a PICC line and it itches and hurts from time to time and.....I just don't feel like leaving my house.<br />
So I called in sick. I have 2 FMLA applications on file. One for the PICC line/infusion treatments and one for anxiety/depression. And so....I decided to use today as a mental health day.<br />
<br />
And...I'm doing just that. Taking a day. To CHILL and RELAX!! On my new deck. In my new lounge chair. In the sun. With my laptop and my dogs. Only thing better would be my dh sitting next to me.<br />
<br />
Today...I will channel my anger into something positive. I will channel my grief into something posttive.<br />
<br />
I can't promise that tmw will be a good day.<br />
I can't pormise that tmw will be a bad day.<br />
<br />
for today...I will just sit and relax. And pray that I can keep it this way.Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-88146883379203954732011-06-27T20:03:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:46.003-07:00Happy 17th Birthday<div style="text-align: center;">I can't even begin to blog about how incredible difficult each of Cor's birthdays is for me. We share our birthdays 1 day apart. And prior to our disruption/TPR it was always a big deal. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GzhqCytzYcE/Tgk_u7LuWdI/AAAAAAAAB8s/MHI2IHKtY10/s1600/COR+HUGS+MOM+AND+BELLY.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" i$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GzhqCytzYcE/Tgk_u7LuWdI/AAAAAAAAB8s/MHI2IHKtY10/s320/COR+HUGS+MOM+AND+BELLY.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cor and Mom - Celebrating our Birthdays 1999. Mommy was VERY pregnant and Cor loved to hold Momma's BIG belly<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">The last week has been a whirlwind of activity and in the proccess of buying a house, moving to our new house, having a PICC line inserted and having it go <em>not so good, </em>and then a very tragic accident involving a friend of mine. In the process of the whirlwind the reality of Cor's bd creeping up on me....didn't really sink in until I got my first "Happy Birthday G" phone call. "Crap...it is my birthday....that means it is Cor's bd....crap!!" <br />
And....the pit in my stomach began.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BYMRPy9zr2M/Tgk-_smTP9I/AAAAAAAAB8o/P_Qu-2FwJSE/s1600/corryanbabyabi.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BYMRPy9zr2M/Tgk-_smTP9I/AAAAAAAAB8o/P_Qu-2FwJSE/s320/corryanbabyabi.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cor and his baby sis Ab...the day Ab came home from the hosptial. Mommy was sleeping. Grandma was having fun and taking MANY pictures while Mommy slept and Daddy worked.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yDA8pm1xFVo/Tgk-tv11ckI/AAAAAAAAB8k/LnKasYLjiaE/s1600/SAY+CHEESE%252C+DECK+JUNE+2000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" i$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yDA8pm1xFVo/Tgk-tv11ckI/AAAAAAAAB8k/LnKasYLjiaE/s320/SAY+CHEESE%252C+DECK+JUNE+2000.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cor's 6th BD 2000</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">My heart hurts as I think....</div><div style="text-align: center;">17 yrs old</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138659554856582409.post-86687643577793285212011-06-02T18:45:00.000-07:002014-06-28T11:41:45.995-07:00Great Article on Recovering from a LossThis evening I came across this blog link <a href="http://"Recovery is a misleading and empty expectation. We recover from broken limbs, not amputations. Catastrophic loss by definition precludes recovery. It will transform us or destroy us, but it will never leave us the same. There is no going back to the past, which is gone forever, only going ahead to the future, which has yet to be discovered. Whatever the future is, it will, and must, include the pain of the past with it. Sorrow never entirely leaves the soul of those who have suffered a severe loss. If anything, it may keep going deeper" –A Grace Disguised (J. Sittser)">"Can you actually RECOVER from a Loss?"</a> It is very powerful. The quote/comment at the beginning of the article = powerful. To me anyway. Hope you are able to find some sort of <em>good </em>out of it. Story of our Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617622682686871400noreply@blogger.com0