We tried to prepare all our kids little by little for the changes that would come. We talked about foster care a lot before we even had a placement. The 3 older kids were excited and wanted to talk about it all the time, but Oliver was clueless. He had no idea how his life would change--almost overnight. He was the baby for 2 years and 10 months before Millie and Max showed up. He adored Max from the moment he met him. And he found lots of mischief with Millie. It seemed he was just fine except for one thing--whenever I would leave he would panic. Scream at the top of his lungs. Cry and hold on to my legs for dear life. I don't remember who started it first but pretty soon there would be three screaming babies crying for me not to go. I was guilt ridden all the time. I couldn't leave but I needed to--I had to have some breaks from the clinging trio, especially before the fourth arrived. Millie and Max had a reason for being so anxious, and I knew it would take time for them to feel secure. But I didn't expect it from Oliver. I took him everywhere I went hoping that would help. We talked a lot about how Millie and Max's mommy had to leave because she was not making good mommy choices but that I was never going to make those choices, and that I would always be his mommy. Anytime I left the littles I would have them repeat, "moms sometimes leave but then they always come back." After a LONG time with my own made up therapies for Oliver, he started to relax and he started to be the one that assured Millie and Max every time I left. He was now the one having them repeat "moms come back." I didn't point out that their mom, may never come back.
Imagine yourself explaining to your 3, 4, 7 and 9 year old that their new brother and sisters may never go home. That this may be their forever home. Or the other possibility that their new best friends would go home someday, and in all likelihood that they would never ever see them again. Imagine introducing them to this world of children without homes and unfit parents. They learn words like drugs, and drug tests, and family team meetings. They learn to share everything including their mom and dads time--so much time given to the other kids that may or may not be part of their family for very long. Each one of my kids had moments of frustration and jealousy, but thats all they were--moments. I don't even think they knew what they were feeling when their emotions would surface. But I knew it was because of all of the changes, I had been preparing for the worst but I turned out I didn't need to. The overwhelming feeling that my kids had for their new siblings was that of love and acceptance and concern for their wellbeing. I was a proud mama and I still am.
Oliver has always loved babies. Ever since he was 18 months old he has been mesmerized by them--following them around trying to take care of them or just sitting but them, watching them sleep. He was obviously made for his new big brother role.
Kids are amazing. They are resilient, strong and love unconditionally. And they easily forgive---its a good thing too! I have made so many mistakes along the way and I plan on making a million more before I die. People always tell me that my kids, especially my adopted kids, are lucky to have me. I have never ever, not even once, felt that myself. I am my greatest critic and I know all of my faults perfectly. I agree with you and say thank you when you tell me how lucky these kids are, but in my head I am saying "Actually, I am the lucky one." They make me forget my faults. They make me love myself more than I think I deserve. They forgive me and teach me and if I could, I would adopt an orphanage of children for very selfish reasons. They make me love so much it hurts. (Lets not talk about how they also make me so crazy I want to check into a looney bin or that Kyle and I joke about putting them in foster care....bad joke? Its just a joke don't worry.)
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