Today I stayed home

I would have preferred work. The day started like any other Sasha "out of control" day. Some danger to a cat was involved. So I stayed home. When he is like this only I can deal with him. And I am the only one he will let deal. So it goes.

And Sasha's hand is in my jacket pocket and I am trying to not cry because today is another day I will not bike to work. Today is another day I will not actually be at work to do what I love. Today is another day I will not hit the gym or treadmill. Today is a day I will be there for Sasha. It is gruelling. Mom and I sort of trade off on catnaps to deal.

At some point all that early work I did in law comes out and I start asking Sasha how did the orphanage deal with all of his behavior? Yeah I am pretty miserable but mostly I just want to know what he can tell me. I am not proud but I used all those silly litigator tricks I so hate. I was so tired of him hurting not just me but my Mom and those who once thought of me as a professional. So I probed. God forgive me.

It started all coming out. Oh my god. At one point when Sasha is telling me, I do not believe I correctly understand so I reach for the dictionary as he continues to tell. I did not misunderstand. He has the scars to provide proof. Small and almost indiscernible but there. And so not natural. I look as he shows. I try to be accepting and nurturing but when he turns away I cry.

A little later, there is a point of escalation again and then we are talking about a little boy Sasha knew who still had a bottle in his hand. Given everything I think that little boy is no longer here with us. Sasha desperately searched the last day pictures at the orphanage to see him without avail.

Then Sasha crawls into my arms and pats my back in comfort. I cannot seem to stop the crying. And Sasha continues to comfort me. He comforts me. Like a guide giving comfort to a newbie to hell. Sasha feels bad that it hurts for me but he needs to tell more than cares for my hurt. And that is how it should be. That is how it should because how else would he know his mother is strong enough to be there for him. Of course I am.

I remember the closing comment in Deborah Gray's acknowledgement section of Nurturing Adoptions: Creating Resilience After Trauma wherein she said "[m]y heart was broken long ago by life and by children's sufferings. I am grateful for God's love that fills my heart and shines through my brokenness."

I thought that life had broken me long ago. What I hear from Sasha breaks my mama heart anew. I could not have imagined. I thank my parents for that innocence. I cannot give Sasha that same innocence. I cannot give him that same illusion about the fragility of the curtain between life and death. What I can give him is a hand to hold. That is what I do. I would not trade that for anything.

Check out the new picture of Sasha !!

It is just to the left and was snapped tonight after we had a wonderful weekend. I also changed my profile picture to one that was taken the first day I met Sasha in Russia. I was so happy. And as Sasha shows today, we are still happy. We deal with stuff but that is what families do. And of course I am his Mom. I am the one that is always there for him. I am the Mom that sits up at night and worries about his stuff. So I have no identity issues there.

I know I have a therapist for the family that flinches when I talk about him having another Mom, but of course he does, and I do not want him to confuse me with her. Unlike most adoptive families, Sasha and I have the same coloring and green eyes. Even in Russia people kept mistaking us for a biological family. And given the extent of everything, I want Sasha to know I did not leave him there in hell - I only came to bring him home. And others in my family, like my dad and older brother, have adopted and I understand how kids need to know. And I am okay with that. And there are still others in my family that were sheared from their heritage and left to drift in American society. That caused a sense of loss I would never give someone I loved. Ultimately, it is a balance. It is a gift a mother gives her child. Something with joy and richness that makes small of the unfortunate parts.

Anyway, back to the weekend. It was great. Finally, I started working on the front yard that is a Portland Oregon kind of thing. I am working on making the entire front yard a flower bed. I have been working on it for a couple of years. I have the white picket fence in and this weekend I worked on trimming everything back, putting in a few new perennials and hanging the gates. Sasha dug out weeds and began a really big hole for the eventual transplanting of the star magnolia tree.

Of course we had to go and buy Sasha outdoor shoes, gloves, a watering can and a little bucket before it could all commence. And then Sasha wanted his own shovel and rake. I can recommend the shovel: it kept him amused for hours. And our yard is doing great. Tomorrow I will work on finishing the transplant site with Sasha and then we will move the magnolia tree from the back to the front. It is still pretty small, but it needs to be moved this year or it will be too late.

Sasha loved it all. He has never really been allowed to go outside and dig. Russian caretakers are so careful about some things - Sasha had never played in the snow or was taught how to deal with mud. He loves it all, it is just so new for him.

And then tonight, he went to bed, no screaming. When I was walking out of the room he said "thank you for the gifts." He didn't need to - and he knows that - he just was happy. Check out the picture.

Good night and God bless, Sarah

And then people help you remember why

So today was not one of our better days, but then I think we will continue to have a lot of those kinds of days. Yesterday I was trying to ask him why (why, why why!) ... and then I told him ... I just flat out told him ... you know how you wished for a mom, I wished for a son too. And you were the son I wished for. That observation got through. He understood. Of course today he was over the emotional wall in joy (with all the smashing and hanging of things that it involves) but he knows he was wished for and is loved.

At the end of the day it is as a colleague of mine noted, so few of us are allowed the opportunity to save someone and that is an amazing opportunity. That is true. I would not wish for my son to be anywhere else.

At the same time I would wish to worry less for his well being. He is so trying to recreate the hell he came from. While I continue to seek out professionals to help, we are also starting to see the suicide tendencies. Just today Mom went upstairs and found that Sasha had found a cord and tied it around a pole with a loop. He was frantically trying to cut the cord (with kindergarten scissors) and hiding it with his body. What do you think was going on?

At least I think I finally heard the name of his most egregious abuser. Or maybe it is just the name of the enforcer because it is a really strange and funny face he gets when I try to talk about it. If I could, I would get back on that plane to Vlad to look up this kid - maybe in the summer. What he did to my son is not good. I see it in Sasha's eyes.

A neighbor of mine is telling others on the street that there is something seriously wrong with me because Sasha screams in the house (she never had kids) - at the top of his lungs. A lot. And I do not come out of the house and "chat" with her anymore. People have begun to look past my Mom (who is here at home with him in the day) and nobody seems to "see me" anymore - even when I wave. The kids from the student house across the way called over last week about "what is wrong with Sasha." I said, as I had him under my arm, he is just having another tantrum. They have now moved from the student housing but they gave me their forwarding address, "just in case."

I do not know whether to be charmed or really mad. On one hand people are concerned and are offering help. On the other hand, if they think there is a problem they should totally call the cops!!!!!

Sasha is doing the best that he can given what he has been through. And I am the one that was given amazing opportunity to be there for him. And yeah when the days disintegrate like today I am sad. I am sad because I saw my son in mental pain today. It was also a day where I had to cancel going to Target to get him his garden assortment. That trip to the store is so what I wanted for him today but is still so far from his ability to be in the world. And so, tonight was a hand in the pocket. And then my son, my saved son, went quietly to bed.

Tomorrow I will work on how to address the knowledge of the name of the child who caused such devastating harm to my child.

And maybe I will not.

Hard to know - life in hell seldom allows the opportunity of choice.

I am learning too much about the particulars of hell - they totally suck. I just wanted to love a child who needed to be saved. I did that. I just did not know it would hurt so much.

My son just fell out of his bed onto the floor - I must go. But remember why - I saved a child that no one else would save, not even his mother. As that colleague of mine notes - that is the most amazing opportunity. Take care and god bless, Sarah

I really should carry that camera around ...

Despite everything you can tell I am such a new mom - I keep forgetting the camera! On Tuesday, we went to the dentist because our ortho coordination doctor said to go. Of course I was dreading it so - Sasha doesn't do well in a relatively bare examine room - there was no way would he do well in a dentist's chair with the trays of instruments and all the "moving parts." Amazingly enough he did FANTASTIC!!! Absolutely fantastic. He sat in the chair allowed them to xray his mouth (he would not let that happen at the children's hospital), clean his teeth and give him a fluoride treatment. Oh my god!!!!!

The child that would dismantle everything in a medical doctor's exam room in order to escape simply was a delight at the dentist. He knew how to do that spit catch thing, etc. Obviously, Sasha has seen the dentist a lot and it was a good experience for him. I had more trouble seeing the dentist (I saw her to that day too) than he did. And it made him so happy. We live for the happy days. And then when they happen we thank god.

Of course I fight for Sasha!!!!!

I too cannot see a future where I am not there to hold his hand. Of everything the most positive thing is our bond to each other. It happened on our first visit when nobody was watching. They left us alone for the most part that day and we made that magical connection. It has stood the test of time and it is that bond that makes me cry at night because I feel his hurt and lostness.

That bond is what made me fight so hard to get him home. And now the experts are coming in and confirming what I knew months ago: Sasha is in trouble. Ironically, I physically have him in a "better" situation and there is more risk. Now his issues can be addressed instead of simply being pushed down the hall and told to cower. I so hate, HATE when he assumes that position. And so I have taught my very stubborn son to argue. I have taught him to yell and scream when there are things he thinks are bad going on. (He screams a lot anyway so I already figure the ears are shot)

And argue he does. He still does the insane, crazy things but now he also argues about perceived injustices. So when I turn off SpongeBob because we have to leave the house he can now yell about it but I insist on words. He can even call me kaka, but he has to tell why he yells.

Of course some days are going better than others. And last night he wet the bed for the first time since being home. I have to wonder if that is a test. Or maybe relaxing into the life. When I discovered it this morning, I told him accidents happened. And then I moved him to the living room couch and stripped the bed. He assumed the position I HATE. And started the whole "please don't beat (or kill ????) me - I'm sorry." I HATE that whole drill. In moments like that I know he is not manipulating me - he is simply seeking survival from the unintentional infringement of a rule. OMG. My family life so did not prepare for this kind of hell.

But you know, I am there for him. By the end of the day, it was all good. I continue to believe that lots of love and interaction with his Mom (as she is coached by love and therapists) will turn all this to sucess.

Then again we are already successful. When I am sad and feeling a little overwhelmed my mom always says to me: just imagine if you had left him in Russia. Imagine what his chances at a life would be like. I do and then I wipe my tears, blow my nose and buck up. There is another day tomorrow where I will stomp on or over any person in the way of the best interests of my child. It is another day wherein Sasha will need close in parenting in order to heal. I love my son so it is all good.

Oh yeah, the specialists are telling me if I was not a single mom this adoption may have already disrupted. No marriage may be strong enough to survive such hell. Something to think about.

We are beginning to head down the road to residental treatment

The reports are starting to come in and it is not good. Today I was counseled about what is going on, in preparation for the final report. I was told the final "words" do not necessarily mean admittance to a mental care facility but then that "but" hovers in the air.

Of course it is the early days yet so I hold out hope that medication and cognitive therapy will work for Sasha. Ironically, the specialists are finding us attached. I, frankly, would give anything for attachment disorder issues. If that were our worst problem, I would feel so lucky.

Instead I found my son yesterday tied to the banister wherein he used the arm of his shirt to fasten himself to one of the posts. When I asked him what was going on he just laughed and laughed and laughed.

I will continue to work at solving this problem for Sasha because I love him. The adoption agency I went through, Children's Hope International, totally sucks!! A day and a half into me having physical custody of Sasha, they told me it was due to my "inconsistent parenting." Of course that is not true. Even today they told me that if I had been a "bad" parent it still would not have caused the situation Sasha is in today. I so totally do not like the adoption agency people. They do very very bad things to people wanting a family.

And so it goes. Please pray for us.

So I added an new little ditty to the left that seems to sum up loving a lost child. My dear heart friend posted this and it so resonated with me about how I go through my days I had to take it as part of my own. I hope D. is not offended (I strongly suspect not)

And that is how it goes. Last week was hell. Last weekend was hell. And the nights, oh my god the nights. While I speak some Russian, even today I do not truly understand all the swear words Sasha flings at me. Standard university language classes do not teach such things. Just last night I finally understood one of them, though mime. Totally yuck.

Yet, today, he was good with babushka while I was at work. Even once I was home he was great for most of the night. He tasted all the veggies I cut up and made sure to lick all the utensils I used to make cookies (that was a highlight of my childhood too). What a sweetie.

The day went pretty much as expected

And maybe it was better in some ways. Sasha is getting comfortable with the waiting area of the children's hospital (we go there a lot) and he commandeered the tv with Sponge Bob on it. When we went to his first visit, because we had done audio testing before, it went well. He remembered the lady, her toys and how the testing game went. Just in case you are wondering, Sasha can hear fine. Even the slight decrease in one ear is still within normal range.

Then we went to the second visit with the orthodontic doctor and all craziness broke out. Running, screaming and kicking - and that was before the doctor came in. When Sasha started swearing at me in Russian his interpreter was shocked, truly shocked. I told her that was nothing, he says a lot more most of the time. As Alex at work warned me before I went over the second time to Russia, orphanage kids begin swearing at a really young age, so do not be shocked if he swears. Sure enough, even though I refuse to ask any Russian what he says or look it up in a slang dictionary, the words he uses are pretty bad.

Back to the visit. Even though the doctor was up front with Sasha, the little bugger still escalated his behavior. Finally, the doctor was able to count Sasha's teeth but x-rays were not possible. The doctor noted, as does everyone else, it is the behavior issues that really need to be addressed first. No kidding.

So we left that appointment early, with Sasha screaming at the top of his lungs and yelling he would not go home with me but with his interpreter. Veronica, being the sweetie that she is quickly disappeared while I went the other way.

Sasha continued to yell and scream for no apparent reason. On the elevator and off. People just looked at me. There were moments in the lobby where I distracted him and got him to calm but it was like he remembered the agenda and started the screaming again. In the turnaround where Mom picked us up he escalated to wriggling so as to run away and trying to bang at things and all that screaming was echoing off the buildings given it is a close area. And it was really high decibel screaming. I was never so glad that I had to go back to work today. At least I got Sasha to finally calm down enough so that Mom could take him home.

And so, I hope that tomorrow is a little better. But maybe it won't be. It is too bad because tomorrow is the one year anniversary of when Sasha and I first met. I was hoping to do a little something nice but maybe not.

Today the interpreter asked me why did I go to another country and adopt a child from an alien culture. Today I could see how it must look like from the outside - an insane choice with no upside. Even though I know God called me to this child, today it really felt like that - an insane choice with no upside.

Ironically, what I experience with Sasha is not because he was a foreign adoption. Just today, someone told me how their daughter's American adopted child is in the same extreme end of reality. So it is not a locality based issue, it is a matter of offering to take care of children that have been put at risk. Sometimes those of us who wade in to help get there sooner rather than later. I wanted to be there for Sasha sooner and waited a year and a half. Later is not so good.

On Thursday we go to the behavior evaluation clinic which just happens to be in the same general area of the same children's hospital. Sasha is a lucky boy to be able to be seen by two speciality clinics in a very good children's hospital. Maybe the Thursday all day evaluations will yield something more than tests not done and the observation that "behavior issues really need to be addressed."

I do not like ending my day by crying. And this where I ended up tonight, crying, just a bit. Not because of any particular thing but just because it is so hard to simply endure the basically abusive behavior from Sasha. Good thing I have lots of stuff to do tomorrow (not Sasha related) or I think I would heed that call to give into the grief.