Even though we only had a short time together, you left such a big hole in my heart when you went away. You made me re-examine a lot of what I thought about myself, and who I was, and who I had the potential to be.
I miss you both every day, and while I hope your lives are amazing, and full of love, I wish there could have been a way for you to stay with us.
Pomni, ya vsegda ryadom ♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This weekend is the second anniversary of an important event in a long chain of events that have left some very deep scars in me, and in my family.
Two years ago on Good Friday my bother and the woman he chose to marry came home from Russia with two little boys (brothers) that they had adopted.
I had been staying at my brother's house, house sitting for him for the 6 weeks they spent in Russia getting used to the children, final paperwork being done, etc. The deal was that when they came home, depending on the hour, I would leave, or "retreat" to the basement bedroom, and leave in the morning. The social worker had indicated that it was important that the children be exposed only to their new parents for the first little while, with no other adults or family members around, to allow them to "figure out" the relationship. I was cool with that.
As my brother walked up the driveway, he looked gaunt, and haunted. He asked me to stay. I did not hesitate for a moment; I stayed. After he, his wife, and the boys got in the house, and had a chance to settle a bit, he pulled me aside and said words that will haunt me forever: "She's changed her mind. She doesn't want them. Please stay.".
What .... the ..... F .........
We thought that maybe she was just tired, anxious, needed some time in her own home to adjust. We were wrong.
The boys were 3 and 4 years old, 1/2 brothers (same mom, different dad). The older boy was wise beyond his years, and had a sadness about him. The younger one was chubby, full of life, but was obviously used to fighting for his own. They were far from perfect ~ they had grown up in an orphanage in Russia, and they scratched, bit, kicked, and pinched. They spoke no English. They had been ripped away from everything familiar to them, and placed in this strange new world.
My brother had learned a bit of Russian leading up to the adoption, and I learned some very quickly. I ended up living with them for 6 weeks, acting as primary female caregiver to the boys. I played with them, I cuddled and sang the little one to sleep, I took them to the park. The older boy bonded with my brother, and would do anything for him; the younger one bonded to me, and my brother and I both bonded with the boys.
She, the woman my brother is married to, never bonded with either child. She would not get close to them, would not touch them. In the beginning I tried giving her some time with them, to bond, and would have to go running back into the room when I heard her yelling and cursing at them. She claimed to be afraid of them. She claimed to have "post adoption depression".
Their social worker asked me to stay. My brother asked me to stay. I was starting to wonder about moving to the city my brother lived in, re-arranging my whole life, to stay and help raise the boys.
And inevitably, I suppose, She and I had a fight. A blow up. I told her that I didn't believe she ever wanted to actually have children, that she only wanted other people to look at her and think she was a good mother, that she actually wanted a doll, and didn't understand the reality of caring for another being.
She kicked me out. Asked her mother to come stay. Her own mother lasted 10 days, and got angry with her and left.
The day I left I was crying. We were outside. The little one, my little monkey man, took off his mittens and used them to dry my tears.
The social worker tried to find solutions, but ultimately my brother made the decision to surrender the children to another family that could love them. His wife had became physically abusive with the children.
He actually managed to get video footage of her threatening the boys, and when he played it for her, her only response was that he "shouldn't video tape {her} without {her} permission".
The day before the boys left with their new family, I was allowed to come and see them one last time, and say goodbye. I played for a while, and then went into the house with my brother. The little one kept asking for me after I left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I was younger, I swore I didn't want children. As I grew, and held and watched and played with my friend's children, I became open to the possibility, but never felt a "need".
The boys being gone has left a hole in me, and I find myself now wondering "what if" ...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And yes, my brother and his wife now have a baby girl ... which I will post about another day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Two years ago on Good Friday my bother and the woman he chose to marry came home from Russia with two little boys (brothers) that they had adopted.
I had been staying at my brother's house, house sitting for him for the 6 weeks they spent in Russia getting used to the children, final paperwork being done, etc. The deal was that when they came home, depending on the hour, I would leave, or "retreat" to the basement bedroom, and leave in the morning. The social worker had indicated that it was important that the children be exposed only to their new parents for the first little while, with no other adults or family members around, to allow them to "figure out" the relationship. I was cool with that.
As my brother walked up the driveway, he looked gaunt, and haunted. He asked me to stay. I did not hesitate for a moment; I stayed. After he, his wife, and the boys got in the house, and had a chance to settle a bit, he pulled me aside and said words that will haunt me forever: "She's changed her mind. She doesn't want them. Please stay.".
What .... the ..... F .........
We thought that maybe she was just tired, anxious, needed some time in her own home to adjust. We were wrong.
The boys were 3 and 4 years old, 1/2 brothers (same mom, different dad). The older boy was wise beyond his years, and had a sadness about him. The younger one was chubby, full of life, but was obviously used to fighting for his own. They were far from perfect ~ they had grown up in an orphanage in Russia, and they scratched, bit, kicked, and pinched. They spoke no English. They had been ripped away from everything familiar to them, and placed in this strange new world.
My brother had learned a bit of Russian leading up to the adoption, and I learned some very quickly. I ended up living with them for 6 weeks, acting as primary female caregiver to the boys. I played with them, I cuddled and sang the little one to sleep, I took them to the park. The older boy bonded with my brother, and would do anything for him; the younger one bonded to me, and my brother and I both bonded with the boys.
She, the woman my brother is married to, never bonded with either child. She would not get close to them, would not touch them. In the beginning I tried giving her some time with them, to bond, and would have to go running back into the room when I heard her yelling and cursing at them. She claimed to be afraid of them. She claimed to have "post adoption depression".
Their social worker asked me to stay. My brother asked me to stay. I was starting to wonder about moving to the city my brother lived in, re-arranging my whole life, to stay and help raise the boys.
And inevitably, I suppose, She and I had a fight. A blow up. I told her that I didn't believe she ever wanted to actually have children, that she only wanted other people to look at her and think she was a good mother, that she actually wanted a doll, and didn't understand the reality of caring for another being.
She kicked me out. Asked her mother to come stay. Her own mother lasted 10 days, and got angry with her and left.
The day I left I was crying. We were outside. The little one, my little monkey man, took off his mittens and used them to dry my tears.
The social worker tried to find solutions, but ultimately my brother made the decision to surrender the children to another family that could love them. His wife had became physically abusive with the children.
He actually managed to get video footage of her threatening the boys, and when he played it for her, her only response was that he "shouldn't video tape {her} without {her} permission".
The day before the boys left with their new family, I was allowed to come and see them one last time, and say goodbye. I played for a while, and then went into the house with my brother. The little one kept asking for me after I left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I was younger, I swore I didn't want children. As I grew, and held and watched and played with my friend's children, I became open to the possibility, but never felt a "need".
The boys being gone has left a hole in me, and I find myself now wondering "what if" ...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And yes, my brother and his wife now have a baby girl ... which I will post about another day.
A good friend of mine once commented that if my life were a soap opera, the editors would cut stuff like this because no one would believe it.
K,
ReplyDeleteyou are truly an angel amongst us. I know, no matter what, you had an impact on the lives of those children... and I admire and respect you for that.
That had to be tough. Have you heard from them since then? Probably not! My feeling is, how could your brother still be married to that woman? But then, it's his life.
ReplyDeleteCan I just put a ditto after Jo's comment, and Coffey's?
ReplyDeleteSad. Really, really sad.
But I know that you made a difference. You and your brother showed them love in a world where they hadn't seen much good, and that will have stayed with them.
I would love to do foster care someday. Someone once asked me how I could possibly imagine loving a child, all the while knowing I would have to give them back. From the depths of my heart I know it would be agonizing, but I would spend every minute filling their little hearts with love and giving them hope, equipping them to go back and to be strong when they got there.
And that, my dear, sounds like exactly what you did for these little guys.
(((hugs)))
I am going to be sick to my stomach ...
ReplyDelete~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
U.S. woman returns adopted son to Russia
Russia is calling for a freeze on child adoptions involving the U.S. after a Tennessee woman put an eight-year-old boy on a flight back to Russia by himself, saying she didn't want to take care of him anymore.
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This story appears on http://www.cbc.ca at the following URL:
http://www.cbc.ca/world/story/2010/04/09/russia-adoption-tennessee.html