Written to our local paper..Sorry to be a bummer.
Dear Editor,
Nearly eight years ago my husband and I idealistically walked into our adoption agency. After 10 years of marriage, rounds of unexplained infertility treatments, and another couple years spent mourning the loss of children we always imagined but never met, we agreed we wanted to adopt an older child.
We sat, starry eyed, though an entire summer of state-mandated adoption training. We listened to panels of parents weep as they explained what it was like to adopt their kiddo. I was only 31 then so I wrote those "old people" off as pessimistic control freaks. They were the establishment (I was raised by a hippy✌). They didn't understand, these were just vulnerable children acting out, I reasoned. Me, the responsible first born, could handle this, I rationalized as seemingly educated and intelligent adults melted in front of me relating their lives post-adoption.
Despite our youthful age and ridiculous, idealistic attitude, we impressed every social worker we met. Dying to have a child complete us, we waited nearly two torturous years after training for "Gotcha Day" to come, leaving our daughter securely in our care.
In the four years since, I've watched this singular child, who was then 10, nearly rip us apart. Her baggage and struggles are far greater then my younger self could ever comprehend. Her spells of acting out have included kicking me across rooms, into dresser knobs that have left very real scars in my back and psyche.
I saw my husband's loving and patient nature fade and disappear as her continual arguing and desire to control everything pushed him over the edge.
Yet, we have soldiered on, buying a newer home in a nicer neighborhood so she could enjoy being outside like we did as kids. Of course, she hasn't ever voluntarily taken advantage of this freedom.
Instead, she rages against her adoptive parents as her mind starts to realize how much she resents her bio family giving her up. Her anger is palpable, her depression is real, and she poisons us daily. The State did not prepare us for this and has not given us sufficient support to succeed. The respite they promised doesn't exist. The family who used to provide it doesn't feel comfortable doing so after hearing about her issues in greAter depth.
Despite our many pleas to the system who placed our beautiful girl in our hands, there is no county or adoptive help for us. So we eek out as much joy as we can..once idealistic and hopeful parents, we now wish we heeded the wisdom of those adults on those panels years ago.
Today, we're obviously not as optimistic as we were. The State of Minnesota has decided our daughter's life is worth more than the two healthy, successful adult lives they unfairly burdened. We are not parents. We are underpaid workers of the state providing a group home to a poor kiddo who really deserves the world.
The question is, will her success mitigate the state's potential loss of two sane, stable, long married, tax paying adults who aren't psychiatrists? Or is there a better way?
Nearly eight years ago my husband and I idealistically walked into our adoption agency. After 10 years of marriage, rounds of unexplained infertility treatments, and another couple years spent mourning the loss of children we always imagined but never met, we agreed we wanted to adopt an older child.
We sat, starry eyed, though an entire summer of state-mandated adoption training. We listened to panels of parents weep as they explained what it was like to adopt their kiddo. I was only 31 then so I wrote those "old people" off as pessimistic control freaks. They were the establishment (I was raised by a hippy✌). They didn't understand, these were just vulnerable children acting out, I reasoned. Me, the responsible first born, could handle this, I rationalized as seemingly educated and intelligent adults melted in front of me relating their lives post-adoption.
Despite our youthful age and ridiculous, idealistic attitude, we impressed every social worker we met. Dying to have a child complete us, we waited nearly two torturous years after training for "Gotcha Day" to come, leaving our daughter securely in our care.
In the four years since, I've watched this singular child, who was then 10, nearly rip us apart. Her baggage and struggles are far greater then my younger self could ever comprehend. Her spells of acting out have included kicking me across rooms, into dresser knobs that have left very real scars in my back and psyche.
I saw my husband's loving and patient nature fade and disappear as her continual arguing and desire to control everything pushed him over the edge.
Yet, we have soldiered on, buying a newer home in a nicer neighborhood so she could enjoy being outside like we did as kids. Of course, she hasn't ever voluntarily taken advantage of this freedom.
Instead, she rages against her adoptive parents as her mind starts to realize how much she resents her bio family giving her up. Her anger is palpable, her depression is real, and she poisons us daily. The State did not prepare us for this and has not given us sufficient support to succeed. The respite they promised doesn't exist. The family who used to provide it doesn't feel comfortable doing so after hearing about her issues in greAter depth.
Despite our many pleas to the system who placed our beautiful girl in our hands, there is no county or adoptive help for us. So we eek out as much joy as we can..once idealistic and hopeful parents, we now wish we heeded the wisdom of those adults on those panels years ago.
Today, we're obviously not as optimistic as we were. The State of Minnesota has decided our daughter's life is worth more than the two healthy, successful adult lives they unfairly burdened. We are not parents. We are underpaid workers of the state providing a group home to a poor kiddo who really deserves the world.
The question is, will her success mitigate the state's potential loss of two sane, stable, long married, tax paying adults who aren't psychiatrists? Or is there a better way?
