I’ve been waiting on myself to begin. I knew it was time to get back to this and I knew it was time for a shift. I shut down the old blog, bought a new name, and created a new site. A new chapter. But how to begin, Becca, how to start. The pressure. Y’all are like,...
My mom died on April 1, just a little over two weeks ago. I don’t know which cliché to use – does it feel like yesterday or years? Both, I guess. My mom was a young 74 and did all the healthy things – the exercising, the kale, the vitamins, the check-ups. I look like...
Well, it had to come. Some of you readers have been with me for a while now. You’ve read these random blogs and followed along on Facebook as Jax came home from China, was diagnosed with all the things, and proceeded to grow up into a teenage boy. He’s gone from...
So we’re homeschooling over here. It’s going really well, I’d say. We have great people, Jax’s anxiety is at an all-time low, he’s happy, he’s inquisitive, and importantly, he’s learning things that are relevant to his 14 year-old-life and skills he’ll use for his...
I have sucked as a parent lately. Truth. 'Tis the season for holiday lights and wrapping paper and for mom to be a stressed out asshole. That should be a Christmas carol. “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the waaayyyyy. My mom’s annoyed at everyone, please bring...
Dear Jax,It's Gotcha Day, little dude. We adopted you eleven years ago today. I love this day, but this year's celebration is bittersweet. Your grandmother died on Friday night. Your dad's mom, Grandma Mary. This year's Gotcha Day will be a little less inflatable...
Johnny made it to his Army base on Monday. Other moms are messaging me tips to survive boot camp, linking me to Facebook groups, introducing me to people who can show me the ropes. It's lovely, but I’m in a different sort of situation. “Hi Martha with your...
Johnny, I've been down at the Capitol this past week fighting for a bill that would expedite the adoption of older kids. I'm pretty invested in it because you and I went through this. We had nine months to make your adoption happen, and had I not already had a giant...
And I quote: "And after fourteen years of foster care, Johnny was getting all As and Bs in school, happily helping around the house, had checking and savings accounts, and looking for his first job - all within just a few months of being adopted into a family. "...
I've spent the last few days outlining an open letter to the person who hurt Jax. A real doozy of a piece, cleverly called "Dear Person Who Hurt My Child." I was going to write and publish it this morning, throw it all out there and let the internet lovelies react to...
The adult who hurt my son will not be charged. I'm a lawyer. I get it. There are no witnesses, no physical evidence, and Jax ...well, Jax isn't the best witness. At 13, Jax still believes that Noelle the Naughty Elf stole my car keys and tried to take my...
I am a Helicopter Mom. No shame here, no self-deprecating humor, there is really no other option for this child tornado of mine. Maybe helicopter isn't the right word, I think I'm more like the car with the flashing lights that travels behind the Wide Load truck on...
I was coming out of an Ace Hardware the other day - feeling super handy, I might add - and on the way to my car, I saw a woman standing by a table raising money. It was a legit 100-gazillion degrees in Phoenix and I was entirely prepared to do the polite smile...
I was sick this week. Throwing up throughout the night, curled up in fetal position at the base of the toilet, not sure how clean the bath mat is, I do not even care, I will never eat blue cheese in a salad again, SICK. Being sick as an adult is lousy. Being sick as a...
Dear Johnny, I know this isn't where you thought you would be at age 17. Still in the foster system, a day pass on your birthday, preparing to be shuffled around again, and then again and again. I know. As a child, you must have thought ahead to 17 and pictured your...
Last week, a family asked about adopting my foster son, Johnny. A family. Adoption. This was a big deal for a sixteen year old foster kid who moved in with me last month because he had nowhere else to go and had every intention of aging out of the system as an orphan....
I had a moment recently. My son, Jax, and I had been in the car running errands for a few hours. I was singing along to the Beatles channel when Jax said, "Mom, I'm hungry." Well, yeah, breakfast was a hurried cup of yogurt three hours ago so that's reasonable....
A teenage boy is coming to live with me. Today. In eight hours, I will be an official foster parent. It's been only a few months, but I have notes upon notes about my short experience so far with this child welfare system of ours. I can't wrap my head around how we...
Last week, I was in my favorite place in the world with my 15-person family. Every few years, we head to a ranch in the mountains of Colorado. We've been going here since I was a little girl, and there is truly no place I would rather be. I told my clients I was out,...
I volunteered to go to an education meeting last week with a foster kid. This kid was in high school and not too interested in me at first. I didn't blame him, I'd never met him before and this was a child who lives in a constantly-changing world with...
It was late-September of 2008 when we brought my son home from China, just two months before December and our sparkly, over-the-top, American-style Christmas season. My little boy had no idea what Christmas was. He had no idea who Santa was. Hell,...
This time of year, man. It’s stressful and chaotic and my annual intention of providing a Pinterest-perfect Christmas lasts about a day and a half until I decide that F-bombs will definitely help me assemble the gingerbread house. Ahhh, December. This year, the...
Jax’s eighth Gotcha Day is coming up. “Gotcha Day” is the anniversary of Jax’s adoption from China. It’s the day Jax became our son, and like good adoptive parents, we celebrate. Jax gets a few presents, we decorate, we eat pizza and cake, we participate in general...
I was at a Ross the other day. I love Ross. There is one by my son's school, and on the days I don't feel like laptopping at Starbucks, I walk around in their exceptional summer air conditioning while having riveting conversations with myself about my need for their...
"To girls everywhere, I am with you." This is how a woman who was assaulted and raped behind a dumpster at Stanford University ended her statement to her attacker at his sentencing hearing. My admiration for this woman is seeping out of my pores. If this were me,...
A day or two ago, Jax had an appointment with a psychiatrist. Jax has never met this man before, but I have, and I like him a lot. He regurgitates mountains of stuff from memory, has a Harvard degree, and is smart, smart, smart. All good stuff when you’re a mom seeking advice for your child, but I like him because he’s a helper and he takes it very seriously.
Jax has been hanging out in, what he calls, the “dark mind.” This isn’t new, but it’s not something we ignore. We’ve seen psychs before, but they have deferred to the other experts on Jax’s team and their treatments. Jax’s emotional stuff has always gone hand-in-hand with Jax’s medical stuff.
But the medical stuff has been at bay so I called up this psychiatrist I like so much and set an appointment. Mostly I wanted to cross it off my list. No stone unturned.
I rattled off the therapies and treatments and meds that we had tried to help Jax feel better and safer. I have a list and it’s several pages long. I’m not a rookie at this, I know the drill and I know what comes next. “Well, you’ve certainly tried everything so why don’t we try (insert something like a gluten-free diet, yet another SSRI, or a $400 supplement that can only be found at the peak of Kilimanjaro in the second week November) for a few months?”
What I got instead was, “None of his doctors have treated him medically for PTSD?”
“Huh? Isn’t that what this was for, and this and this?”
“Those are for Symptom X and Symptom Y, but they aren’t front-line medications for PTSD.”
I’m paraphrasing because I don’t remember the conversation or the words or even much of the explanation. What I remember is that there is something real, something tangible that we haven’t tried. Something that, according to this doctor, could be a game-changer for my son. Something that could lighten up the dark mind, shift his inherent joy back to front and center, reduce his worries and his impulses and his fear. Big stuff.
It’s not the challenges that break you; it’s the hope.
A hundred times I’ve been asked “have you tried this?” and a hundred times I have run to the pharmacy or the health food store or the cannabis dispensary armed with the hope of maybe this time. And each and every time it didn’t help Jax feel better, I broke a little bit.
Finally, when there was nothing left to try – no more magic pills to swallow, no more exotic supplements to boil into tea – I settled. With everything crossed off the list, I was able to settle in at the top of that zen plateau called acceptance and say Jax is Jax. I have tried everything to help my son.
Until today. When I left my perch and stood, once again, in line at the pharmacy with my brain reminding me that Jax is a different kid and what works for others doesn’t usually work for him so don’t get your hopes up, Becca. But my heart – creeping up in the background, unable to be quiet, unable to give up hope – whispering maybe this time.
Blessed be Becca. May this new treatment work for Jax. You are indeed correct, hope can break you. Challenges help to build your strength and faith. Not faith in God, faith in yourself. PTSD is hard to beat. May this medication, your guidance, strength, faith and love bring healing to Jax. Blessed be Jax.
It’s our big hearts & the deep love of our son’s that keep the hope alive. Everyday there is a new discovery, a new molecule a new therapy. You turned your former legal career into something to help fill a missing piece. I turned my legal career over to the Pharma industry to be on the edge of clinical trials & research for the same reasons. We will never, ever give up that hope that faith, because this time might be it! (BTW, your psych is a genius & I work with 1000’s of them.) Love to you & Jax❤️❤️
I hope the PTSD treatment works.
Maybe this time!
Would love to know if it helps, and what “it” is!!! I’ve ridden the Hope train frequently.
There is always HOPE and MAYBE THIS TIME. We have tried many different medicines for my grandson with Autism and anxiety. I can’t count how many we have thrown into the trash. His mood disorder is popping up since he hit 13. On to more treatments or medicines to quell the anger. Maybe this time. Prayers to you.