Happy Birthday to My Baby Boy

First, I want to thank you all for letting me vent on the last two posts. I needed a minute. Things are still touch and go but I will write about that a bit more later. For today I just want to write a quick post about the day my life changed forever.

photo from: www.telegraph.co.uk

As most of you know, my husband and I chose a different route to become a family. I believe biology is just a science term and isn't necessary for me to love and nurture a child. Fourteen years ago I got the chance to put that belief to the test, and believe me I passed with flying colors.

My son turns 14 today and I couldn't love him any more if I tried. Watching him grow from a baby 4-days old to the happy, sometimes moody, sports-loving young man he is today has been a dream come true. Even though I've been here for every moment of it, I can't believe how quickly the time has gone.

I don't blog about him much because he likes his privacy, but there is no way I could let this day pass without giving thanks for him and for being the blessed woman that God chose to be his mom.

I know that I have said this before, but for those of you desperate to start your family, I encourage you to really look into adoption. It has blessed my life in ways I can't even explain. What if my husband and I had decided not to take this journey? I wouldn't know this amazing child. I am the one that gets to hear the stories about his basketball games (sometimes I miss them if my daughter has an appointment), I am the one he hugs when no one is watching (he is too big to hug mom in public), I am the one that gets to argue with him over the latest basketball shoe that he wants me to buy for $200 because we just can't get the ones that came out three weeks ago and are now on sale, and I am the one that gets to help guide him into the man he will become. What an honor.

In truth, I am thankful that there is more than one way to create a family because it has allowed me to know the child I am proud to call son. Happy Birthday to My Baby Boy! No matter how old he gets he is still my baby (don't tell him I said that).

A Rough Few Weeks

photo from: BPS research digest

It's been a little over a week since my last post and well, things are still pretty rough for me. So again, I just need moment to vent. First my body has decided that whether I liked it or not, I was going to get some rest. This weekend I went to the walk-in only to leave with four prescriptions and two over-the-counter medicines (bronchitis and a sinus infection).  I tried to get some rest this weekend but by Sunday I was a wreck and ended up staying home from church and then work on Monday

Meanwhile our insurance is a joke. One medicine for me, an inhaler, was $165.00 on top of the $117.00 I paid for the other three.  Not to mention that a week earlier, one of my baby's meds normally covered by our private insurance and Medicaid is no longer (out of the blue) covered by Medicaid and through our private insurance cost a whopping $146.00. I opened an explanation of benefits statement today to a large amount I will most likely have to pay one of my baby girl's doctors; I have to call tomorrow and check on that.

And the mood for my youngest seems to be getting worse. Everything is a battle. Even asking her to do the smallest task can end up in an explosive outburst from her. They often come without warning. She seems more agitated and anxious, I am at a loss for what to do. I am still coughing and my appetite is below average. I'm not at 100 percent but I went in to work today. I try to monitor taking days when I am so often out with my daughter's appointments. She is averaging two appointments a week. And let's be honest, people smile and say they understand but jobs don't care about my issues, they just want the work done. I haven't been able to cook and clean up the way I would like because I am not feeling the best, I need to clean out my car, I'm so behind on laundry it's shameful, I still haven't figured out how to set up my daughter's room since she threw everything on the floor last week...I could go on.

Today, I just feel a little lost. I know it will pass and I will find my way (what other choice do I have?), but for this moment, I feel like I'm on a roller coaster that I can't get to stop or even slow down. The photo I've chosen for this post pretty much sums me up. I could really cry right about now, but I'm just too tired. Not to worry though, like the song says: "there will be days like this..."  Tomorrow is another day, I'll let you know how it goes. 

Like the Song Says:"I Need Just a Little More Jesus!"

So I haven't written specifically about my baby girl in a few posts. That's because when you are the parent of a special needs child, it can consume you. And I try to remember that while writing is therapeutic, no one wants to read post after post about my woes and worries. But today, I  need to woe and worry.

photo credit: The Telegraph

For the past several weeks she has be one cranky 12-year-old. Yesterday it took an hour to get her to agree to get dressed for church. Don't ask me why, it just did. The week before that it took about 30 minutes. At this rate, I'll need to pad in an extra 90 minutes of get ready time.

I have also noticed an increase in her desire to send her mommy to that special place - when she purposely does things to try and upset me. I know it isn't personal and it isn't really about me but yesterday I was so overwhelmed I needed a way to release some of the tension, my choices were to punch something or cry. As much as I hate to do it, crying seemed like the better option. When she couldn't get me to break after she refused to get dressed she decided to trash, and I mean trash, her room - clothes all over the place, sheets off the bed, a total disaster area. On Saturday she got upset because I gave her waffles for breakfast and she wanted an omelette. Later that day she started screaming at the top of her lungs because I wanted her to put her loom bands away (they are driving me nuts!).

Most days I can shrug off her mood swings and when she's back to my happy go-lucky little girl, I can move on too, but not yesterday. I was a bit frazzled for the rest of the day - sorta in a fog. Sometimes, when the mood swings are prolonged I feel like there won't be another happy moment.  I just needed some time to remember that this is what I signed up for. I wanted to be her mother. I  may not have known what that meant and true, the system didn't provide me with the information it should have, but hey, most times biological parents don't know what they are dealing with either until their bundle of joy arrives.

In short, yesterday, I needed a triple dose of prayer. Prayer to help me remember that I've made it this far as her mommy and I will continue to make it. Prayer to give me the strength and energy to keep fighting for her, making the phone calls to specialists to make sure she gets proper care, to deal with the mood swings and not take it personally (even when she says she hates me), and to make sure that the school does what it should. I needed to be reminded that if I give up on her, she has no one. I will not fail her - failure is not an option.

So for all of you fighting the good fight for your special needs child, I pray for you, you pray for me. I am determined to make every difference in my baby's life and I know you feel the same about yours. And just in case you haven't heard it lately, all of your efforts are appreciated. Keep keeping on...
Here's to us!

If Ever There Was a Case for Foster Care...

photo credit: www.cclife.tv

This morning I was watching the local news and one story totally shocked me.  A Florida mother was arrested for burning her son’s genitals with a hair dryer (pause to give you a moment to let that sink in). Hearing the story, it may not have been intentional, but her actions after the incident certainly were. She left the two-year-old alone in the room, unclothed, with the defective dryer. Really dumb.  When she realized he was burned (first and second degree burns by the way), she failed to take him to the hospital.  According to the report, his father discovered the burns when she returned the baby to his care. She told him there had been a “little accident” involving the child – that was an understatement! When asked why she didn’t take the baby to the ER she said she was afraid that the Department of Children and Families would be called and she would get in trouble - that’s rich.

Surprisingly, this woman isn’t the first person in Florida to be charged with this crime. A Hernando County detention deputy used the same method to burn a 3-year-old in his care earlier this month. And there have been a wave of other incidents of cruelty by parents. In Maryland, a 21-year-old threw her infant out of a car window. A father threw his toddler out of an apartment building window in late 2013. And just so you know this sort of cruelty isn’t limited to the United States, a mother in Russia lost it and threw her four and seven-year-old out of a 15-story window, the fall killed them instantly.

If ever there was a case for the foster care system, stories like these are it. It’s sad that we live in a world where parents kill and deliberately hurt their own children. It’s so bad that in many states you can leave your child at a designated safe place (a hospital, police station, fire house, etc) so the child can get proper care.  In Florida that law was passed in 2000, a year when almost a dozen newborns across the state were left abandoned in dumpsters, near trash cans, doorsteps, etc. 

If any of you are reading this and have a heart for children, I encourage you to consider becoming a foster parent, so that children hurt by the hands of their own family can find a safe and nurturing environment to learn what it really means to be loved. I know the foster care system has issues, believe me I know.  As a former foster parent I was exposed to the red tape and hypocrisy. But I did it because I wanted to be a mom and when you see there are so many children in care looking for a mom, it seemed a perfect match. I fostered five children over a four-year period. And even though I was just a stop on their journey, I know that while they were with us, they knew true love. And I continue to have the honor to love the two that we adopted. I check on all my babies every few years to make sure that they aren’t back in the system. So far so good on that score.  And for couples struggling to become parents, I urge you to learn more about foster care and adoption in your state, especially if you don’t mind nurturing a minority child. More than half of the children in care in Florida and in most states, are minority. 

Yes, there is a great possibility that your child will suffer from trauma, anxiety, depression and so on, but even with all of the problems they face, they still deserve to be loved. If biological parents can’t give that, then it’s important that the rest of us step up and take on the task. If I hadn’t stepped up I wouldn’t know how wonderful the hug from my son feels when no one is looking (he won’t hug mom in public anymore) and he puts his head on my shoulder. Or when my daughter walks up with her infectious smile and says something hilarious. My life is better because of that choice. Is it always easy? No. Anyone who has read my blog knows that.  But parenting any child is a challenge.

So the next time you hear a story of horrible abuse of a child in your state, don’t just shake your head and talk about how awful it is, consider doing something about it. We can really make it better by nurturing one battered child at a time.

Seriously, You're Upset About A Cheerios Ad?

So tonight I had planned to do a post on bullying as it seems to be a major thread in the fabric of our lives these days. But since I don't think that issue is going anywhere anytime soon, it can keep. Tonight I want to talk about a story I read today that really blew my mind.

Gracie from the Cheerios Ad

Do you remember the Cheerios commercial a few months back where a bi-racial little girl (Gracie)  is talking to her mom, who is white, about her dad's claims that Cheerios is good for your heart? While her mom reads the information on the box, Gracie takes it all in and then takes the cereal and uses it to make a heart on her dad's (who is black) chest. Cute right? Well apparently not everyone thought so and got downright angry that General Mills, makers of Cheerios, was featuring a bi-racial family - for real though?

Some of the comments were so mean-spirited that the company had to disable the comments section of the YouTube site where people could view the commercial.  Some compared it to racial genocide and called the creators Nazis ... wow.

Today General Mills announced that the family is back, taking center stage during the Super Bowl. This time daddy is using Cheerios to explain to Gracie that there will be a new addition to the family. The ad is super cute and so is the young actress playing Gracie. But more than just being cute, the fact that General Mills did not allow bigotry to stop them from using a multi-racial family again gives them great marks in my book

While I am not totally surprised by the level of ignorance we are still subjected to in 2014, it saddens me that you would let a commercial about a family and cereal send you over the edge. According to MSNBC, there were 2.5 million mixed-race couples in the 1990s - up from 650,000 twenty years before. Do you know what that means? It means almost all of us knows somebody married to or dating someone of a different race.

As sad as it may be, an uproar like this does serve a purpose. It serves to remind us that even in a time where we have seen a Black president, there are still people who live, eat, sleep, drink, and breathe racism. That is something important for us all to remember. Our kids may think that because they have friends of all different races or even date kids of other races, that it means all is well -  that they don't need to worry about race as a barrier. But sadly we do need to worry. They don't show up on your doorstep in white sheets burning crosses anymore (or not as often anyway) -  they have learned to be more subtle about it. But trust me, they still scheme to keep minorities from success. They still read resumes and try to determine from the name who the Black candidates are to weed them out. They still call a White woman with ambition a go-getter and the Black woman with the same drive aggressive. And every now and then, they get worked over something simple, like this commercial, and their true feelings come bubbling to the surface.

Well, I plan to let my true feelings bubble to the surface too. And I plan to express them. I am going out and buy a few extra boxes of Cheerios this weekend.

Take a look at the commercial and check your own beliefs on race. After you see how adorable this 30-second spot is, I hope it reminds you that no matter skin color, family is a beautiful thing.

Check out the Super Bowl Cheerios Ad

Once You Decide to Parent, You Have to be All In

Having a special needs child can be tough. Moms worry about their children special needs or not. But when you are the mom of a child like mine, sometimes people tend to think that you worry too much, or you over compensate, or that they can do more than you give them credit for. I've learned that I can't worry about what people think. I have to stand on what I know is best for both of my children regardless of what others may say.

photo:allheart.com

Recently one of my daughter's doctors (one she sees ALL the time) retired. Mental health can be subjective and to that end, I didn't want to just pick a new doctor from a list with no recommendations. So I asked around and got a few referrals. I called some and settled on one. There were some signs that perhaps things wouldn't be to my liking (trying to get billing straight was a trip) but I wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. I took J to the appointment and it was AWFUL. She didn't review any of her information before the visit, she didn't really introduce herself, she asked me to tell her how her former physician came up with a particular diagnosis as though she disagreed, (um I ain't the professional, why are you asking me?), she interacted very little with J, and at one point, checked a message on her cell phone in the middle of the session. I was too through.

So now what? Do I stay with this person and see if it gets better? Do I start this process over again? Do I drag my baby all over town from doctor to doctor until I find one that works? Will people think I am too judgmental?  And then, it hit me. She is MINE, and if I am not willing to make sure she gets the proper care who will? So I started my search again and this time, I went to the first visit alone to get a feel for the doctor's philosophy, way of work, his style, - basically, I interviewed him. I asked if this was permitted before I made the appointment (because if it wasn't I was going to pass), they told me yes. When I arrived he seemed a bit surprised but I stressed my need to have a comfort level with a doctor that will play a big role in my daughter's life.

I've learned that my approach isn't one that many doctors have seen and that some may not appreciate.I say it should be a regular practice. People get second opinions all of the time for cancer diagnoses, surgery recommendations, you name it. Why not do the same with mental health? Am I looking for someone to always agree with me? No. But I am looking for someone that makes me feel as though they have my daughter's interests at heart, who won't dismiss my concerns and for God's sake, who won't CHECK THEIR CELL PHONE IN THE MIDDLE OF A VISIT! I say whether you have a special needs child or not, follow your instincts. If you don't like your child's doctor, look for another. If you don't think they are really getting what they need, make some noise.

I chose to be a parent and whether you adopted, got pregnant unexpectedly, tried to get pregnant, whatever, parenthood is a choice and once you make it, you have to give it all you got - even if it means ruffling a few feathers. For my kids, it's the least I can do.

Dental Work Leads to A Stressful Week

This has been a rough week. So much so that physically I have been a bit off my game. So here is the short version. In November, we took my baby girl to the doctor for a routine appointment. She had a cavity and needed to get a filling. Sounds easy enough right? Nope, not with a child with a high level of anxiety. The visit didn't go well and she absolutely freaked in the office. They brought her back up front to my husband and said we would have to try and think of an alternative.

photo credit: arcadia dental group 

They offered using one of the security blankets that are designed to help them feel snug and restrains them a bit.  That might work with a younger child but at almost 5 feet 5 inches tall and 120 pounds, it isn't going to work for her. So, that meant sedation; and $1,100 later she has her filling. You read that line right $1,100. Most of that went to the anesthesiologist. They put a few sealants on teeth while we were at it, and an hour later, they sent my slightly loopy baby girl home with mommy.

As much as I hated paying the money, I was more concerned about whether or not we would get her to cooperate. I felt so bad for her. If we weren't able to get it done, I was afraid we would never get there, and she may never agree to visit the dentist again. The night before I had to make an hour by hour chart for the big day. There were dietary restrictions of course, and sending her to school with something like that would have been a huge mistake. So it also meant explaining why she wasn't going to school. The schedule worked well. She asked a zillion questions, but that's my girl! When I picked her up from my mom she was a nervous wreck. There was a bit of a melt down and she began to cry and tell me she did not want to go. Eventually though, we worked through it and she did great!

I was almost as nervous as she was. I could barely eat for the 48 hours before the procedure. There were so many things to consider, what if she refuses to go? What if the schedule I designed for her to look at isn't enough to make her comfortable? What if she sneaks and eats with she isn't supposed to have any more solids? What if she freaks when they take her back to put her to sleep.... and on and on.

In the end, it all worked out. I am hoping to learn how to be prepared for the worst without expecting it. I was so sure something would go wrong that I made myself sick in the process. It's a learning curve and soon, when the next crisis for her arises, I will probably do this all over again. But hey, I am her mommy and I love her to pieces. If it means missing a few meals worrying about her, I can afford it. I need to lose a good 20 pounds anyway.