A few weeks back, Mickey and I took Daffy to the doctor to discuss her weight and her ADHD meds. (As you might recall, we fought to take her off a stimulant and get her onto a non-stimulant because of her weight loss and lack of appetite on the Vyvanse. Her PCP prescribed her 18mg of Strattera at the end of last summer.) After the endless struggles over the past 4 months regarding homework and other tasks, as well as the teacher comments on her report card, it seemed that maybe an increase of the medication was in order. The PCP agreed and increased her dose to 40mg (the next dose up from 18mg). She has only been taking it about a week and a half, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect, which is really too bad. I know that drugs are not a miracle cure, but I was hoping that if Daffy could become more focused, it would be one less thing to argue about.
While at the PCP’s office, I also voiced my concerns about Daffy’s weight. She weighed 64 pounds when she moved here in January 2012. She weighed 64 pounds at the appointment. How can a child NOT grow in more than 2 years?? She had been in the 21st percentile when she moved in and is now in the 4th percentile. The doctor did not seem concerned at all, saying she will likely just be “small”, but I think there is something more. She has had control issues around food the entire time she has been here and she obsesses over being “skinny”… it wouldn’t take much for her to topple over to an eating disorder. The doctor gave her a lecture about trying new foods and eating healthy and she nodded but couldn’t remember what he said when he asked her to repeat it back. Time will tell if this will be a bigger problem than it already is… but at least I documented my concerns. I’m pretty used to being ignored by the “experts”… guess I’ll fry some other fish, so to speak, while I wait for this one to play out. We have a follow up in April, maybe he will care then?
Posted by fosteradoptionblog on February 27, 2014
We live one crisis to the next. Parenting 7 children (between the bios and the fosters), I guess this is to be expected, but it certainly is never any less alarming or intense.
Monday afternoon, Tink’s ex-boyfriend brought her home from school and shared that Tink had a plan to commit suicide by overdose that night. Tink confirmed the plan, so off to the ER we went. It was determined that she should be transferred to a psychiatric facility and she was moved the next day. A series of events has begun since Tuesday that overwhelms and consumes me. My heart is broken for Tinkerbelle and all she has to deal with, but I know that the hospital is the very best place for her to do that.
Despite that stressor, I have continued to be on top of managing the needs of the other children as well. Daffy was vomiting Saturday through Tuesday, but has finally been able to keep food down and return to school. Donald has been having a very tough week at the RTC with multiple agressions. We will be visiting him as a family on Saturday so my stress level is obviously increasing. Goofy and Pluto are truly my saving graces and I am doing my best to stay connected to them and be sure their needs are being met as well. They are just so “easy”, but I dont want that to change and find them seeking negative attention.
That said, my goal is to focus on all the positive things in our lives each day to keep me going. This morning I am thankful for:
- Snuggles in bed with our puppy who has healed well from his injuries
- A gorgeous foster daughter who asked me to straighten her hair (a rare occurrence)
- An amazingly supportive network of friends and family (both in real life and on Twitter)
- The ability to work from bed in my pajamas while drinking coffee
- A social worker who always goes above and beyond the call of duty to support us
Despite our circumstances, I am blessed and grateful.
Posted by fosteradoptionblog on May 3, 2012
Today we were asked about Daffy’s medical history when we brought her to the eye doctor. I know this will be the first of many times we are asked about her family history and the first of many times we will have to explain whey we dont know.
I am familiar with this process. As an adoptee, I spent my life saying “I dont know” about diabetes, about heart disease, about cancer, about hypertension, about mental health… I just didnt know… and I hated it. I hated having to explain that I was adopted. I hated the way they looked am me with sadness in their eyes, because they knew I had been rejected. Rejected by the very person who should love me the most.
When I eventually reunited with my birth family in the late 90’s, I was elated to be able to provide medical information when asked. I recited it plain as day, without explanation… and without the sympathetic looks to follow. As time has gone on, though, since contact with my biological mother ended (a mere 5 months after it began) and my biological father passed away (4 years ago now), I have stopped being able to recite that information. I have *some* medical information, but many things could have changed or developed in my family over the years that I am not privileged to know, so I am back to explaining why I don’t have all the facts. And getting the sympathetic look. And I hate it.
I hate it for me but I hate it even more for Daffy. All she wants is to be a part of a family. To have a mom. And a dad. And brothers. And sisters. She does not want to be singled out. She does not want to be different. Yet every time we go to the doctor’s office, she will be. No matter if she adopted and no matter how much we love her, she will always be the one with missing pieces of her past. She will always feel that same raw rejection when asked. And there is nothing I can do about it.
Posted by fosteradoptionblog on March 23, 2012