A Pair of Shoes

This evening I found this poem on another blog that I read.  This mom has a little girl with down syndrom.  This mom has a little girl with cancer.  This mom posted this poem on the day of her little girls diagnosis last October.

This poem speaks volumes. 

This poem....really talks about how I feel tonight.  As I spoke w/the group home owner tonight in re: to Cor...my shoes really were bothering me. 

This evening those shoes felt like they were ripping my feet apart. 

I hope and pray that the shoes I have worn for the last 10 years can only get a little more comfortable.

A Pair of Shoes

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and each
day I wish I had another pair.

Some days my shoes hurt so bad
that I do not think I can take
another step.

Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.

I can tell in others eyes that they
are glad they are my shoes and not
theirs.

They never talk about my shoes.

To learn how awful my shoes are
might make them uncomfortable.

To truly understand these shoes
you must walk in them.

But, once you put them on, you can
never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the
only one who wears these shoes.

There are many pairs in this world.

Some women ache daily as they try
and walk in them.

Some have learned how to walk in
them so they don't hurt quite as much.

Some have worn the shoes so long that
days will go by before they think about
how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.

Yet, because of these shoes I am a
stronger woman.

These shoes have given me the strength
to face anything.

They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a
woman who had a child with R.A.D.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a

woman who had to disrupt her adoption

in order to protect the other children

in her home.

*Author Unknown*

~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.

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.  

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.

Last September I had the opportunity to attend the Utah Trauma Moms Retreat.  Just as going to Orlando was life changing.  Going to the Utah moms retreat was life changing.  It was something that I needed to do for me.  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 never miss again.  The retreat has changed into something bigger and better.  Hope Rising 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.

Recently, I wrote a post called "Beautiful Heartbreak" as a guest blogger.

RED BRICK BUILDING

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.

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.   

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.

My mother heart and deep love tells me we should drive across the street and walk into the Red Brick Building on the corner.

And the common sense part of my mother heart says "that would not be smart."

The Red Brick Building is where C turned 18 years old a few weeks ago. 
It is the County Jail.

18

There really are no words to describe how much my heart hurts today.  

Never imagined that the grief would still sting as so much. 

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.

 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.

Happy 18th Birthday C.

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 we do this..... and so much other mental garabage.

Hard Stuff

It 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.

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.

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. 
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 ending it with a final post.  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.

When an Adoption Must Disrupt

When this 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 telling our story.  It isn't anyone else's story to tell.  It is mine and only mine.

There are many many things that never made it to this blog regarding our story.
And there are many many things that will never make it to this blog regarding our story.

When an Adoption Must Disrupt was wrote by Christine.

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. 

Our child will turn 18.  One month from today.  I've kept myself very very busy today.  Trying very hard not to think about.  Trying very hard 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.

There is absolutely NO way around making disruption easy. 

Ever. 

For anyone involved. 

Even though time passes, pain lessons, and children and families go on with their lives.....underneath all of the above lies grief and pain.

Previous Post on Disruption

Recently, someone commented asking about a post that I linked to re: adoption disruption. 

I have deleted several of the old posts from my blog for personal reasons. 

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 Welcome to My Brain asking her if she knew off hand what the name of the post was or where in her archives it would be.

Sorry to not be more helpful.

Give me some time. I will find it. 

Love, G