Ana's 10th Anniversary

Today is the 10th Anniversary of the day Anastasia became my daughter.

I can still remember the day as if it was yesterday.  The feeling of excitement, and nervousness, and desperation, just to finally meet my daughter and hold her in my arms.  To take her home and just be mine!

The day dragged,  we were dressed up and ready hours ahead of time.  All I could do was pace.  This maternal longing and impatience just to finally meet her.  We couldn't get there fast enough.  I just so desperately needed to end this emotional aching and hold her in my arms.   The social worker was late.  Caught in traffic.  We sat with our social worker and my child's biological mother for what seemed like hours.  There were so many questions I could have asked.  I didn't.  I couldn't think of anything other than meeting my child.....and how I needed to remember to be sensitive to this woman who was giving her to me.  The fear:  what if she sees my child and changes her mind and wants to keep her.  All these things going through my mind, as I'm waiting,  so desperate for her to arrive.  Just so i can hold her in my arms and know that she is mine.  Forcing myself to sit in my chair and try and make small talk with someone who holds the fate of my whole family in her hands.

And then, finally, she arrived.  wrapped up tightly in a blanket in the social workers arms.  Don't jump up, don't rush, don't be insensitive. Just wait your turn.  The woman who gave my child life, gets up and takes my child in her arms.  The fear.  Please don't change your mind.  She is mine.  The girls, desperate to meet their sister, and too young to think of all the things I have been, go up to her and ask the lady if they can hold her.  I want to be first.  But I painfully force myself to sit. And wait.  And then she takes my child from the girls and says its your moms turn.

I get up, the aching in my heart so overwhelming from the desperation and anticipation just to see the face of my child, to take her and hold her and feel that this is right.  This is the child that was birthed for me.  Wondering how long the bonding process will take when I see her.  Some people say weeks, others months.  And as she is handed to me and I look at her face, and draw her close to my chest, it's instant.  Every feeling, thought and fear dissipates in that second, and relief floods through me and I'm filled with this overwhelming love and certainty that this child is mine.  This is the child I've dreamed of since I was young.  This is the child that has been growing in my heart all these months.  And here she is. In my arms.  Seeping into every fiber of my soul.  Her heart bonding with mine instantly.  And as I look up at the woman who birthed her she says:  now she is yours.

You hear so many of the negative aspects of adoption.  I can honestly tell you, in ten years, I have had none.  I sometimes worry that Ana doesn't ask enough questions.  I would worry that maybe she doesn't feel safe enough to ask, or that she doesn't want to hurt my feelings.  So every now and then I sit with her, just on her own and I ask her questions.  Does she think about it?  How does she feel?  Just trying to dig a little into her heart and see what is there with regards to her adoption.  I always marvel at her deep wisdom and insight after these conversations.  There is no bitterness, no feelings of rejection.  Im so thankful for this.

Some of the things we've spoken about:

I showed Ana the pictures from the day we fetched her:

Me:  how do you feel about seeing those pictures and when you think about the fact that you are adopted?
Ana:  Happy.
Me:  why happy?
Ana:  because I'm so glad you're my family.

Me:  Do you ever think about the lady who gave birth to you?
Ana:  Sometimes
Me:  What do you think about?
Ana:  I wonder if she has a job and house to stay in and that she's safe.

Me:  Do you ever wonder about the man who would have been your dad?
Ana:  I do wonder what he does for a living and things like that.
Me:  Well we don't actually know much about him at all, so I can't really tell you anything.
Ana:  So........its a mystery.  You know mom, in my head i think of it like I have boxes.  And I put things in different boxes.  I've got a mystery box where I put things that I don't know or that I don't have answers to, so I'm just going to put all the things I wonder about him in the mystery box.
Me:  And you're ok with that?
Ana:  well......there's just no answers for them.

Me:  Do you ever wonder if you have brothers or sisters.
Ana:  one of my friends at school actually asked me if I have a sister from before.
Me:  So what did you tell her?
Ana:  I said I didn't know
Me:  Do you ever wonder about that?
Ana:  I do sometimes.
Me:  Would you like me to tell you if you have a sister or brother?
Ana:  (quiet for a while)  No, I don't actually want to know.

Me:  When you are mad at me, do you sometimes wish that you hadn't been adopted and wish you were with another family or with the lady who gave birth to you?
Ana:  No, when I'm angry I think about that picture you showed me when you fetched me of Kayla and Cassie holding me and I remember the look on their faces and they are smiling at me and I start feeling happy again.

Ana:  Mommy sometimes I get scared.  What happens if you die and daddy dies and the girls die.  I will be the only one  left in the family, and I will have noone.  And I love my family so much, I don't ever want to loose them.

Ana to Rhys on his 40th birthday:  I love you Dad.  You are the best dad in the world.  You are my only dad.

Ana to the girls in an argument:  I wish mom and dad had never adopted the two of you!

Me:  Does it bother you when your friends have asked you about 'your other family"
Ana:  No?
Me:  But doesn't it make you wonder about them and what it would be like?
Ana:  Not really.  If they ask me things and I know the answer I tell them, if I don't I just say I don't know.  Because I don't.

On her birthday this year, at the end of the day, she had a bit of a melt down.  She was struggling with the fact that she felt both happy and sad about her adoption and the reasons why she felt both.  During the conversation, in tears, she said to me:
I know God planned my whole life before I was put in her tummy and he knew that I was going to be adopted.  So I know that this is the right thing.  It was what he planned for my life.
Me:  who explained that to you Ana?
Ana:  No one did, its just something I've always known inside.

This is my child's heart.  This beautiful acceptance.  I feel the love radiating from within her when she tells me she loves me.  Or how much she loves all of us.  Its so strong its tangible.  When she writes us letters, telling us she loves us, they are so beautifully expressed, with such deep emotion, that I just know she loves us as deeply and truly as we love her.  And that she knows we were the family that she was born for.  To be loved by her and accepted as her mom by her is the most amazing feeling a mother can have.

Yes, I do know that the teenage years are still ahead, in the very near future.  Her thoughts and feelings may well change.  But regardless of anything that happens or changes, the bond we have with her, and she with us, will withstand and endure any road that needs to be traveled.  And it will all be worth it.  To have had this beautiful, deep, loving, wise, precious child as my own.

So today I celebrate our tenth anniversary of having Anastasia Atarah-Rose as my very own daughter with such a deep gratitude and thankfulness that I was the chosen mom for her.  And while I look forward to the years ahead with such an excited anticipation, I also wish that I could stop time for a moment longer so that I could just bask in the love and appreciation and gratitude that I have for my precious child.

Your Choice. Not Mine.

 

Most people know my brothers a drug addict.  Oh, who am I kidding, seriously, my brother is a “bergie” .   He’s been an addict for about 16 years.  Lived on the street probably for the last 5 or 6 years.   He tells me that he uses drugs out of his choice, not addiction.  And that he lives on the street out of my choice, not his.

The quote above  really just struck a nerve in me.  Him using drugs was not my choice, yet both me and my family have suffered for 16 years at the hand of his choice.  No one can see the hurt and damage that his choices have caused each one of us individually.  Yet, he blames us.  For his choices.  Yet he doesn’t allow us to make different choices for him.

He is the King of Second Chances.  And third, and fourth and fifth and sixth……you get my point.  I do not know how many times I have listened to him telling me, Please Michelle, give me another chance, I have learned from what I’ve done.  This time I am going to rehab.  And my heart softens and hope begins to grow and every time I think, maybe this time.  He looks so sincere.  And I can’t turn my back on him because what if it really is this time, and I don’t give him the chance and then that chance is lost forever.   And……. In a few months time again, after hundreds of rand's have been spent, time and effort in organizing a rehab, getting him everything he needs, getting him there…….Please Michelle, give me another chance, I have learned from what I’ve done.  This time I’m going to stay in rehab……….  How many times do you have to hear this, until you start letting the words just flow over you, as you switch off and stop listening.   That song becomes so apt:  your lips are moving, your lips are moving, your lips are moving but you lie, lie, lie……..

I feel like I have had so much criticism and judgement over my attitude towards what he’s doing.  I’ve doubted myself, second guessed myself, so many times.  And felt quite bad that people have felt like this and haven’t understood why.  Now, I don’t care if you want to judge or criticize, because I know why.  I have done, over and over and over.  To try and help him.  To try and help my family.  To try and alleviate my guilt.  Their guilt.  But you know what, I never made his choices.  I never sat  back and said here, try some drugs.  I never condoned it.  I fought it.  I tried every way I could to get him to stop.  How many rehabs know his name?  How many jobs has he lost?  How many people have given him chance after chance after chance.  Because seriously, he can talk the wounded my family don’t care and have kicked me out and this is why I do what I do talk so well.   You know what, u were doing drugs long before you were no longer welcome in any of our houses. We gave u chance after chance.  You left, and we took you back after your:  This time is going to be different, I’ve learned from my mistakes>   You were welcome up until our brothers 21^st birthday, when your jealousy over the fact that he had made something of his life and you hadn’t couldn’t be contained any longer and he ended his celebrations in a hospital getting stitches.  Another relationship you destroyed. 

There is no way you can understand what it is like to live with an addict in your family, if you have never had to do so.  You can stand on the outside and judge, give advice, it seems so logical and simple what you should do, when you are standing on the outside.   Do you think we leave him out on the streets out of our choice?  Because we couldn’t be bothered?  You can’t even begin to fathom the toll that it takes on you and your family.  To lie awake for 16 years worrying and stressing about where he is, is he ok, does he have somewhere to sleep, does he have food, is he safe, will he make the night.   You can’t even begin to imagine the places I have gone into to try and find him because I have had no reports of sightings for him for a few days.  Ive walked around the reeds in the dark for hours searching for him to find him, just to find him quite comfortable in his little make shift shelter with no desire to leave.  Seriously dodge bars and houses.  Riding around the taxi ranks late at night, because someone thought they saw him walking past…… Forking out money for rehabs when you seriously can’t afford it, transport to get there.  I do not know how many wardrobes I have bought, for two or three day rehab stints, until he decides this isn’t for him and its not what he wanted and I forced him to go that’s why he left.   The last time in December, I asked him over and over and over again, are you sure you are going to this rehab out of your own choice, because you want to,  I asked in every possible way I could.  Yes, he said, this is what he wants, he said, he’s going of his own free will, he said………. He didn’t make it to 2 weeks.  Because…..that's not what he wanted.  It wasn’t his choice.    He’s so well known on among st the criminals and authorities.   And I have the privilege of being known as his sister, due to the amount of times I’ve gone into his criminal society to look for him and into the police station to plead with him, and with the neighborhood watches as they've helped me look for him.   He thinks I’m ashamed of him and that’s why I want him off the street.  I feel no shame for his choices.  I feel desperation, because he is making choices that are hurting himself and our family and there is NOTHING I can do about it.   I feel desperation, because I know that one day one of those midnight messages I get, is not going to be telling me they’ve arrested him.  Its going to be telling me he has been found dead.   And then I have the ‘privilege’ of having to go and tell my family and my parents, who still believe that this phase will pass and he will integrate back into normal society after 16 years, that their child actually never integrated back into society he has integrated into some after life that I don’t even want to think about!  

I do not know how many times I have asked him to tell me what he wants me to do for him, because he keeps throwing back at me that  everything I’ve done for him was what I wanted for him, not what he wanted for himself.  I have, seriously, run around trying to organize the things that he wants so that he can choose to come off drugs and stop living on the street.  And when I hear:  Please Michelle, give me another chance….. and in frustration I shout at him that I’ve done everything he wanted me to do, so that he could make different choices, I’ve done everything I can think of to try and give him a chance……..nothing has worked.

 

There is nothing left for me to do!  Now you need to do something!  You need to make the choice and go and find a rehab and a place to stay on your own.  Stop coming to me and asking for help but then everything I do fails because it actually wasn’t your choice it was mine.  

I have an amazing network with people I never thought I would depend so greatly on.   I pretty much know where my brother is and what he’s doing most of the time.   when I haven’t had any reports on him for a while,  I just have to ask and someone will have given me a report back before the day is out.   It’s the times when no one has seen him for days that the fear sets in.  Or when he is in pollsmor and I lay awake worrying and not knowing what is happening to him.    Or in winter when its so cold and raining outside and I worry how he is keeping warm.  I worry constantly that he might not live to see another day,  what it will do to my mom and dad. 

But see, this is HIS choice.  Its not like he hasn’t had any other options available to him.   He has turned them down and rejected him.  He has made it impossible by his choices and his actions to live with any one of us.  Doesn’t mean we don’t worry about him, don’t hurt about his choices, or even that we don’t help him.  We have.  Over and over and over again.   And because we have done that, we just don’t believe him anymore.  Its not that we have given up, its just that now if he wants to go to rehab, he needs to go and find one himself and get there himself.  

  

I don’t really  know if there is a way that you can make someone who hasn’t lived through this understand.  Ive heard so many times :  how can u give up on him like that, how can you let him live like that, why won’t you give him another chance.    So here’s the bottom line:  I have not given up on him.  I do not choose to let him live that way.  I have given him many many chances over the past 16 years.   He has abused and lied  each and every time I have given him a chance, and yet ive still given him the benefit of the doubt.  And given him another chance.  I don’t believe that chances are limited, but he now sadly has to work for his next chance.  By being proactive and doing something for himself.   

So these are the facts:

My brother is an addict

A criminal (seriously he’s been arrested too many times not to be)

He lives on the beach (best place to be in summer, kukkest place in winter, but at least he gets to stay clean in the rain)

I love my brother with all my heart and hate him for all the hurt he’s caused us all at the same time

I have not turned my back on him, I am waiting for him to go and find the help he needs because the help ive offered over the last 16 years in his words ‘is not what he’s looking for” and he can’t tell me what he’s looking for exactly anyway.

Because he is unpredictable and  aggressive I cannot have him socializing with my girls.  And that hurts them too because they miss him.  And he cannot stay with my parents for those same reasons either. 

I hope with all my heart that he is able turn his life around,  but I don’t believe he will. 

I have mourned his death a thousand times over, over the years.  I don’t know if I will ever be able to reconcile my heart when the final one comes.  Because as much as I want him to change his life style, its not my choice.  It’s his.  And even when I have asked him to choose between me and his life style, even though I know he loves me, he has always chosen the latter.  

I do not expect you to understand how I feel, if you have never lived through it.  I do expect you to understand though,  that this is his choice, not mine.