Tuesday, 29 January 2013

A reality check...

So, here's the deal. I have two choices.

Choice number one: I continue to cry a lot. I continue to feel sorry for myself and for our situation. I carry on feeling like shit every time I see that a Facebook friend is pregnant with their second, third, fifth child. I continue to indulge that twist in my stomach when I notice just how big DS is getting. I carry on panicking about the 'right decision' and not allow myself to relax and just be carried along by life. I continue to keep myself awake at night wracked with guilt around my infertility. I continue to feel an irrational, angry burn whenever mums moan about how tired/stressed/hard their life is with their abundance of children. I allow this situation to entirely take over my life and the lives of my family. I wake up one morning and realise my big boy has become a bigger boy and I missed it.

Choice number two: I put on my big girls pants and suck it up.

I go with choice number two.

Just so you know.

Watch this space...

(P.S I blame the HRT)

Monday, 28 January 2013

Testing or Testosterone?

So DS has been exhibiting some interesting behaviour of late. By interesting I mean awful. DH and I have noticed a steady decline since before Christmas and now we are dealing with daily battles that include:
- deciding that he no longer needs to have a wash 'because he's 6'
- stating that he only had chicken and pizza today so his teeth don't need brushing
- creating arguments over the slightest upset (such as the colour of his underwear)
- becoming irrationally angry when challenged on his behaviour
- making dramatic statements in relation to everday events (I tried to sleep in mum but couldn't and that is why I don't want another child to live with us)

And on it goes....

As my friend and I share stories about our 6 year old boys with knowing nods in the direction of 'testosterone surges' (I read a book on it once...), I can't help but be worried that this is about more than just hormones.

I feel I need to reiterate at this point that DH and I have not brought up Fostering and Adoption with him for some time as we felt it was an issue that he needed to choose the pace about. He has brought it up a couple of times and we've talked about it. Are we wrong about this though? Do we need to just take control? A friend recently suggested that I was being ridiculous for allowing DS a say in the matter of adding to our family via A or F and that if I had just had a baby, he wouldn't have been given the choice and would have just had to get used to it. I put her attitude down to her being childless but did she have a point? My instinct tells me that I know my boy and how my family works and lets face it, in all liklihood any child we welcome into our home will have additional needs; having a genetic baby grow for 40 weeks while DS is involved in that gradual process is completely different.

And frankly it makes me cross that people to whom babies come easily never have to give it all such lengthy consideration. I always (probably mistakenly) imagine it goes something like, 'will we have another baby darling?', 'yes, we could do. When?', 'Will we say now?', 'Errr, oh go on then', 'great, I'll bob my request for mat leave in tomorrow'...Don't get me started on the various articles I've read recently by smug multi-mothers on the perils of having just one child. I try to remaim positive but lately it's getting me down. I would give anything to have those hassle filled mornings sorting out my 17 children. And there I go again, sounding ungrateful for the one that I have. Please know that I am not ungrateful - just frustrated.

DS is a lot like me - he comes across all mouthy and confident because he's terrified of channeling his inner-peach but he can't escape from his anxieties and it appears to be manifesting itself in the form of angry outburts and interrupted sleep. Heck, DH and I are confused so it's presumably fully expected that DS will be too and I wasn't unprepared for that. Well, I didn't think I was...


I just feel really crap. And in turn that makes me re-angry about everything (yes I am aware that that's not a word but humour me). I want to scream that it's all so hard! Why us? Why is this still not sorted out? Why do I have to jump through f****** hoops to get the one thing that so many other people just get? With no hassle! In the normal way! I'm exhausted by the whole process and it hasn't even begun. I'm utterly terrified that I'll ruin DS's life with my selfish pursuit of a bigger family and utterly heartbroken that he will never know the joy and irritation of siblings. He pointed out that any children he will have might not have cousins or aunts and uncles and wouldn't that be sad? Yes it would. And I'm sorry. I wish I could change it for him but I can't. And it kills me.

And breaaatthheee....
Last week I spoke to a National Charity about Fostering and the lovely lady is waiting for me to email with a date for them to come out, meet us, and talk to us about becoming approved foster parents. I don't feel that I can send that email. I think I need to spend some time sorting out DS's feelings. I want him to be happy. I want to do the right thing. I want, most of all, to not be in the position where I can't just relax about the whole thing, safe in the knowledge that the decisions me made were the right ones.

P.S The **MELTDOWN WARNING** should probably have been inserted at the beginning of this post....

Monday, 7 January 2013

One step forward, three steps back...

Hurrah to 2013.
Or not.

So, the 'Bubonic Plague' hit the household just in time to ensure a poorly, sniffly, vomity, diarrhoeay time was had by all over Christmas. Joy to the World etc etc...

This, however, was not the low point of the festivities. That point came when DH decided to drop the 'I'm not sure I want to go forward with applying to Adopt' bombshell as I was polishing off my 15th pre-Christmas Quality Street. To say I was shocked was a bit of an understatement. I had thought my main concern was DS's apparent lack of enthusiasm; I was unprepared for the fact that my husband was in agreement with him.
You'll be delighted to know that I handled it with maturity. By maturity, I mean that I completely ignored that he'd said it, squished it firmly into a box and quickly threw it to the back of my mind. And steadily became more and more resentful. And cross. Adoption scares me too; I wasn't sure where the path would lead us either but I wasn't being ridiculous and communicating that to him now was I? Why on Earth would I do that????? Tsk!
Instead, I continued my silent tirade. I couldn't bear to confront him because I really didn't want to know what he had to say.

Every year, DH and I spend our Wedding Anniversary in London. We got married at Christmas and I just love Oxford Street with all the Christmas lights and hustle and bustle. I look forward to dropping DS off with his grandparents and heading off, first class (free bacon butties don't you know...), for our weekend away together. This year was no exception - I was really looking forward to it. I wasn't expecting that the 'bombshell' would have such an effect. I felt really unsettled and just had no wish to speak to DH  - I could do the 'what will we do for lunch?' conversation but the, 'will we have a chat about your worries while we're alone and have the time?' conversation refused to materialise. Romance was not so much dead as deader than dead and I spent most of the weekend wanting to come home.
Eventually I knew I had to bring it up. So I asked him and once again found myself surprised. DH apparently doesn't think he'd be a good enough dad.


This is the man that actually wants to spend time with his son - not through me bribing him or pestering him - he genuinely enjoys it. The man that sits with DS and patiently runs through his spellings and cursive writing (far more patient than I could ever be) with him. That spends hours hacking through the woods, swinging on the park, searching the internet for another swimming pool to go to at 7.30am on a Saturday morning when the local one burnt down, making number plates for his go kart...And bike...And scooter... He's a fantastic dad! So why does he think he wouldn't be again? I have to be honest that I remain a bit confused about it all. Not least because if he thinks he's rubbish, where does that leave me?
DH tells me that he's often found it frustrating when we've had difficult times parenting DS; when he seems unhappy or his behaviour seems out of control or he's just being a usual, challenging, 6 year old and that because of this, he worries that he wouldn't cope with a child that had issues and/or challenging behaviours. I get where he's coming from, it worries me too, but I'm a big believer in pushing forwards and seeing how things pan out. Making an application and having a conversation with a social worker does not mean we would have a bundle of joy delivered to our doorstep the week after (quite the contrary I imagine...). It would mean that we would gather more information. And then a bit more. Until it feels right. Or not.

On a plus point, DS seems to be asking questions around it all. I haven't pushed it with him and I think it's worked in that he hasn't felt 'forced' into thinking about it. He's not sure about it all (which is fine) but he does want to know more about it.

I can't say that any clarity has been achieved just yet but at least DH and I are discussing it again. My only worry is that the longer we procrastinate, the less 'right' it might feel.
But then que sara que sara I suppose...

Oh and Happy New Year :o)