Being Real

I have started this post over a few times, with a few different titles and a I have gone in a few different directions with it. The thing is, I am starting to get questions regarding Kellsey that I'm not quite sure how to answer. I can go a few different ways with it. I can either avoid them altogether, which would be the easiest, but is not at all like me, or I can face them head on and be brutally honest which may shock more than a few of you with what I have to say, or I can deflect my answers back to Kellsey with love and care and concern as I have in the past and move right along. I am choosing to do a combination of the last two. Because here's the thing... Since I've come out with a little bit of our story, I have received almost 100 emails and private messages on Facebook from other adoptive families who are just like we are. They have adopted children with RAD. And now they are hurting. Their marriages are falling apart. Their other children are suffering. They are depressed, they are sinking. They are miserable and they feel... stuck. Some of their stories made my heart shatter into a million pieces because it made our story pale in comparison. Other stories I just read and nodded my head because I could truly say, "I understand." While none of our children are exactly the same, we all have one thing in common - none of us knew ONE single thing about RAD before we adopted. NONE of us were prepared. ALL of us fear being judged by those we love the most and ALL of us have lost friends and loved ones because they just don't get it. And all of us, at one point in this journey have said, "I hate my life."

The difference is, many of these families are still holding on. Some are holding on because they are seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Some because they simply don't know what else to do. But most because they know that if they were to let go, find this child with RAD another home, even though they KNOW it would be the best thing for the child AND for the rest of their family, they would be SO harshly judged, that they wouldn't be able to take it. Those who HAVE made the VERY brave decision to place their child in another home, whether it be for respite care or for adoption, are left to pick up the pieces of their lives. The child with RAD is able to move on almost seamlessly. Most of the time they have not formed a bond with the family anyway, but the emotional turmoil for the rest of the family left in his departure can be devastating. Not only do the family members need to heal, but they have to face the ongoing scrutiny of extended family members and friends... "Where IS he? HOW is he? Do you MISS him? How could you just get rid of him?" And they have to decide how they're going to answer that. People on the outside just can't understand that this really was a decision made out of LOVE and not selfishness or cruelty.

I can promise you that these families who have chosen to disrupt did not set out with this in mind. They did not spend MONTHS (sometimes even YEARS) putting together a ridiculous amount of paperwork, raising a ridiculous amount of money, all the while falling in love with one outdated picture and a few lines of information that is most likely false just to turn around and say, "You know, this really isn't working out for us. We're going to pass him off to another family." No. That's not how it works. Every family I've met who has disrupted or handed their child over for respite care has done so ONLY as a last resort and in the VERY best interest of that child and their ENTIRE family unit. It's a painstaking, heartbreaking very personal decision that is never taken lightly. When a parent gets to the point where they realize they are NOT able to provide the level of care their child needs, it's a very surreal moment. The truth is that sometimes love is NOT enough. It does NOT heal all. Not when you're talking about a child who spent years laying in a crib in an orphanage and spent his first years of life enduring unknown trauma. There are some families out there that are absolutely equipped to handle children with RAD. And there are others who are not. And I think it does the entire family more harm than good when some families hold on in fear of judgment as their entire family continues to fall apart.

So, what spurred this post? Here's a question that popped up in my comment section today. I've been thinking about this all morning. There have been other comments too that have fed into some of what I have said, so please don't think this whole post was spurred on by you ;). I'm going to try to answer this as honestly as I can without sounding too harsh and please know that my original answer in my head was MUCH more blunt.

"I was wondering how you are doing with missing Kellsey? Has it been hard on you? Also, are any of the kids missing her more than others, or have they just adapted back to the way things were before she arrived? Do you feel that Kellsey will remain permanently with your mom sInce she's doing so well in the calmer environment"

To say we are missing Kellsey is to say we are missing RAD. It would be missing a house in chaos. It would be missing waking up every day wondering if I'm going to walk in on a blood bath in her room or finding her covered in poop. It would be wondering if she's going to chew her lips open because I have to take her to Kassidy's soccer game or Kennedy's dance class. It would be missing sitting in my living room watching her glare at me out of the corner of her eye while I read the kids a story on the couch, knowing she refused to join us. Again. It would be missing ANOTHER stressful mealtime where she refused to eat and threw her food on the floor or another day where she put herself in time out before I could because she wanted the control. The kids have not asked about her, said they've missed her or anything. Without invading their privacy too much, the emotional trauma they've endured in the last year or so has all but dissipated. They are relaxed, they smile real smiles again, they laugh, they joke around, they are present in our household instead of holed up in their rooms. Just a few weeks ago, Keeghan said to me, "Mommy, you don't cry every day anymore!" And I don't. It's been YEARS since I didn't cry every day. It has to be noted though that it wasn't KELLSEY that was doing these things. It was RAD. While making the decision that something HAD to change was extremely hard, nothing was as hard as living with RAD for us. It was taking over our lives, little by little. We were falling apart. We were suffocating. We still aren't the same as we were before and we will never be those people again. We appreciate each other more, we are still a little sad sometimes, we still have some healing to do. We are still broken. And Kellsey will always be part of our lives in some way. We are so thankful that she is doing better in a 1-1 environment that she was never able to experience in her life in Ukraine or here in our home. It's clear now that she SO badly needed that. Unless she is able to get some extensive therapy at some point, for the mental well-being of ALL of us, Kellsey included, we do not plan on having her come back here any time soon. That wouldn't be fair to her, or to us. I am happy that she is forming a bond with my mom and I pray that continues and she can grow and thrive there. Being a parent means doing the VERY best for your child - all your children - no matter what that may look like for them and right now all 5 of my children are doing well. I haven't been able to say that for a very long time.