So Which Is It?

foster care

Waaaay back when we first started this journey, we took the required foster care classes where we were told that foster children should not be parented the same way as biological children. That stuck with me.  Why am I now being asked why I don’t treat my adopted foster child the same as my other children? Make up your freakin’ minds, people. Oh, and trying LIVING this life before you start offering your unsolicited opinions next time, too!

Yeah, I’m bitter. Can you tell?? It’s been a LONG summer. Hell, its been a long YEAR. Looking back, I would say that the nightmare started when Daisy and April moved in last November. Daffy can not handle ANY competition, real or perceived. Though they stayed only about 6 weeks, Daffy’s attitude never really recovered. Tink moved back home in April and Daffy attributes all of her behaviors to that in an effort to get Tink out of the house. Honestly, I fear for Tink’s baby… Daffy has always been abusive to animals and has made comments wishing harm to Tink’s baby. Daffy’s therapist says there is nothing to worry about, but she doesn’t live what we live and it’s not HER grandson in jeopardy.

Anyway, at this point, we are having more bad days than good. Daffy refuses to follow any rules and then blames us me when she receives consequences. I feel like everyone around me has set me up… Mickey won’t give her consequences and just excuses away her behavior.  Her therapist won’t have any meaningful conversations with her for fear of putting a “divide in their relationship”. It’s all put on me. What the hell??? Does OUR relationship not mean anything? Am I just the sacrificial lamb????

As the suggestion of Daffy’s therapist, I met with Donald’s former therapist a couple of times recently. (Daffy’s therapist wouldn’t meet with me or do family therapy because it would undermine HER relationship with Daffy.) It was a somewhat validating experience in that she said I am not the first adoptive parent in this situation and feeling the way I do. She also revisited the idea of Daffy’s original reactive attachment disorder diagnosis being accurate. She is concerned about Daffy seeing her birth Mom because of the impact it’s having on my relationship with Daffy, but is not willing to go on record because she hasn’t “met” Daffy (she is very familiar with this case having been involved since the time of placement). Daffy’s therapist feels the same, but you know damned well any decision will fall squarely on MY shoulders. It will be relationship damning. I asked Donald’s former therapist “How can I make the decision that MY relationship with Daffy is more important than the relationship she has with her birth mother?” She replied that Daffy is attached to her birth mother. She is not attached to me.

I still have not made any official decision, though Daffy has not had a visit with her birth Mom since the one overnight they did at the beginning of July. I just don’t know what to do. I hate life. I hate waking up every day knowing that at least one (if not both) of us will shed tears. I’m tired of being hated. If I had known that adoption from foster care was this physically exhausting, I can’t say I would have done it. I’m in over my head. I’m drowning. And I’m alone.