Setting the Stage

I thought would spend a few days telling my story so you can get to know me a bit...feel free to browse around and check out my pages.

We brought Happy home from Eastern Europe in July 2011.  It was supposed to be Happily Ever After from then on...right? All sunshine and rainbows as we ran through a field together holding hands, with joy and laughter upon our faces and in our hearts?  Right? Because that's how every fairy tale ends, right?

Wrong.  Well, not in our case anyway.  Of course, our story is far from over.
I do believe our Happily Ever After is on the horizon.  Finally!

Happy raged when we first came home.  Well, she raged when we were still in Eastern Europe waiting to come home. Screaming, hitting, biting, scratching, pulling hair, throwing furniture. Thankfully she has CP and couldn't kick or I'm sure that would be in her repertoire as well. She used to pull out handfuls of my hair. I cried the first time she did it, not because of the pain, but because my hair is so thin anyway… and she pulled out a big ol' chunk.  When we got home, Happy still raged, though not nearly as frequently. In EE, she was raging 6 – 8 times a day. When we finally got home, it was every few days...but sometimes for hours at a time. An improvement, yes, but still…I felt like a punching bag.

The first 8 months home were the hardest of my entire life. Hands down, no questions, no doubts.  Happy brought things out in me that I never knew existed. Before we came home, I never dreamed that I wouldn't love Happy. Or that I wouldn't even like her. It made me sick to my stomach to hug her. I would almost choke on the words, "I love you, Happy." Needless to say, bonding with and attaching to Happy has not been easy.  There are MANY books and resources out there about how to help your child attach to you.  There's not much information about what to do if you don't like your child.

Back in March, when I was in the depths of the pit and depressed beyond measure, I told Prince that I felt like I lived with the enemy. And I had to take care of her and make her meals and give her baths and take her to all of her weekly appts., and pretend to care. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to run away in those first 8 months.  I desperately wanted to find a new family for Happy.  Desperately.

Now, I need to add here that my (first) downfall came right before we started to have a turnaround with Happy.  It came out of the blue one day as I was stretching Happy.  I discovered that she thought I had given birth to her, left her in Eastern Europe, and came back 6 years later to get her and bring her home. NO WONDER she had so much rage!

I was angry with God. Very, very angry. Very, very bitter.  I felt like He had completely betrayed me and my family. I asked Him many, many times a day 'WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO MY FAMILY?! What did I do to deserve this??' I felt like He was punishing me for something. Yet I knew that couldn't be true because His Word says that children are a REWARD…not a consequence. I hardened my heart towards God and I could feel it. I didn't like it, but at the same time I couldn't help it. I didn't want to help it. I felt I had the right to be angry at Him. I mean, look at what He did to me and my family. And He says He loves me? WHATEVER! That was my attitude. What. Ever.

Now, perhaps some of you have not experienced what I'm sharing about. You may be tempted to judge and think or say awful things to or about me. Believe me, I've probably said to myself every rotten thing you're thinking. I've been appalled with myself. I ask you to chalk it up to something you just don't understand. AND BE THANKFUL that you don't understand this. I know for a fact that I am not the only one who is struggling with these thoughts and feelings. It's to those who get it that I am writing.

I promise I have a point and something encouraging to share. There is so much more I could share about the struggles, but I want to keep the bad part short so I can get to the good part. First I wanted you to know I GET IT. I get how hard it is and the desire to throw in the towel. I get the struggle and the guilt that goes along with all of it. I get the feelings of being ill-equipped for this enormous task. I get the hardship and suffering. The suffering. I was suffering big time. Ironically, my complete meltdown came shortly after listening to a sermon about suffering for the cause of Christ.

To be continued...