Adoption

Confessions of An Adopted Parent

Sadly, we do not have all the answers

Our oldest son, James, was three years old when he moved in. He was already broken. We adopted him six months later. James was only five years old when he tried to kill himself. Adoption does not prepare you for the heartbreak these children have already endured in their lives.

James had lived in six different homes since he was born. He was born with FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) and other complications. James’s birth mother was a drug addict.

Our youngest son, Mike was eight years old when he moved in. Mike had lived in eighteen different homes. Same back story as James. Mike’s birth mother was a drug addict and Mike was the third child to be removed from her.

Later Mike’s mother had three more children. All of them were removed from her because she remained an addict. That is a story for another day. Today I focus on James’s story.

James developed severe PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). We did not know what PTSD meant for a three-year-old child. We were so naive. We simply did not have a clue.

We spent two years taking James to therapy and trying to find out what had happened to him. James demonstrated all the symptoms of abuse, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse.

It was difficult to comprehend that anyone could torture a baby. A child less than three years old. It was unfathomable to consider.

Social Services underplayed all of James’s symptoms. They attempted to streamline his adoption. The law states that James had to live in our home for at least six months before his final adoption. Social Services pushed us to move forward with James’s adoption.

James was our first child. We wanted to move forward. We had no idea that Social Services was afraid we would give James back to the system.

What? Yes, this happens more often than people realize. Children in foster care move around like pawns in a game.

Who chooses to keep them? Raise your hand.

Which child is moving? Get the black trash bag ready.

Why don’t the children return to their birth parents?

It happens more often than you read about in the headlines.

My ex was not a bad man. He was simply unprepared to marry and raise a family at age thirty-two. He was still looking around and up and down. He could not figure out what he wanted in life. Then he met me.

For him, I was the One and he convinced me that he was my One. At age twenty-eight, I was thinking that it was time. He must be the One. After all, we met in Miami and we were both born in Boston. We both came from Italian families. We had so much in common.

So why not? I waited for a year or so and then we decided to move back to Boston. It was one of my fondest dreams. I wanted to reunite with my family; all my aunts and uncles and cousins.

What could go wrong? I closed my eyes and ignored all the red flags.

We married in 1983 and we adopted James in 1988. I closed my eyes again and ignored all the red flags.

We had no idea that three-year-old children did not have over fifty tantrums daily. James destroyed his room. He destroyed his toys. James did all his acting out at home. In school, he behaved.

We could not understand it. We found an advocate to help. Mary G. was an angel. She helped us learn the language of Special Education. The school seemed to acknowledge our concerns. They placed James in a special needs program with developmentally disabled children. He learned how to “sign” his alphabet.

The school did not work on his behavior with him. Instead, they told us we were not good parents. Thus, it was our problem. For a minute, I believed the school. After all, James was our first child. We were inexperienced parents. We could do better. Mary advised us to be patient. We needed documentation to get James the help he needed.

James’s behavior escalated at home. He began attacking me during his tantrums. Time out was no longer an option. I learned a four-point hold from his therapist. It sounds a bit much but it helped keep both of us safe during his violent tantrums.

James began playing with matches. He loved our dog, Lady but he seemed to be teasing her as well. James began telling me he would kill me while I was sleeping. The aggression and violence continued to escalate.

The school was mandated to hear our concerns but their solution was unacceptable. The school suggested that James should be institutionalized for the rest of his life. They did not offer any tangible solutions for our child.

After two years of violence and regression, the school inquired if we would return our child to Social Services. The school insisted that James was hopeless. He was too broken to fix. What? Were they serious?

I kept fighting the system. I would not give up. Part of me was afraid I was broken. Therefore if I am broken, that must make me a bad parent. At the same time, I could not understand how our school system could give up on our four-year-old child.

What did that say about our family system? What about support for James and our family? What were we doing wrong?

When James was five years old, he tried to kill himself.

James took our dog’s leash and climbed onto a chair. James wrapped the leash around his neck. Our dog, Lady was jumping up and down. That’s what caught my attention. I was cooking on the stove and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. As soon as I saw what was happening. I ran over and caught James before he could hurt himself.

It was the final straw. I tried to remain calm when I called his therapist but she could hear the tremor in my voice. I was so upset. As his mother, my concern was all about keeping James safe. I was trying to act calm in front of him but I felt myself getting ready to scream. I wanted to scream very loudly.

James’s therapist helped us locate a placement at a Psychiatric Hospital. It was the beginning of a long journey for our family.

If you want to hear more of my story, please join my mailing list. You will be the first to know when I publish my next segment of our adoptive family’s journey. *July 2022

I want to share this story by Ruby Lee who is another adoptive parent. Ruby discusses some of her personal experiences along with some myths about adoption.