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You know, I wasn’t planning on writing anything today. I figured with it being the weekend and all, that I would take some time away from the computer, and spend the day with my boys. After all, what better way to spend the day, than mommy and her boys at the mall? My husband liked the idea of having some quiet time in the house, and I had been making an extra effort lately, to spend more time with my adopted stepson, and to rebuild parts of our relationship that have been damaged along our journey.
On Friday morning, I had written him a little “love note,” and left it on the counter for him to find in the morning. And even my husband, who seemed to also be sensing that our son was having a hard time emotionally, made sure to give him an extra big hug on Friday night, and told him how much he loved him, and how very proud he was of him.
After my adopted stepson went to bed, my husband and I sat up, speculating what our son was worried, or anxious about. We thought, perhaps, it was the impending trip he was taking for a school youth and government challenge that he had won. Just as we were nodding our heads in agreement, it hit me like a ton of bricks. His birthmother’s birthday was Saturday, which was tomorrow. I asked my husband, and he confirmed the date. It is at these times that the anger that I have for her wells up inside me, and rears its ugly head. What should have been a happy, relaxed fourteen year old, upstairs in bed, excited that it was the weekend, was instead an anxiety ridden, shell of a fourteen year old boy, who has been hurt time and time again by this woman, and yet even still, in her absence, she continues to cause him pain.
We still went to the mall,I figured that it would be best to try to make the day a happy one, not a sit around the house and brood day. Besides, he needed some clothes for that upcoming school trip. Getting him to talk in the car on the way to the mall was like pulling teeth. He was in his own little world and was not really interested in joining the rest of us in reality. He is the type who often withdraws into himself when he is overcome by anxiety. After a few attempts at conversation that went absolutely nowhere, I ended up just turning the radio on softly, and decided to wait and see if he had anything that he wanted to talk about. My decision ended up in a very quiet car ride the rest of the way to the mall.
By the time we were getting out of the car, after getting an awesomely close parking space, he was looking like a little white ghost of himself. He made a passing comment about feeling tired, as we entered the mall. After a brisk walk through Sears, we entered the actual mall, and he turned to me, and announced that he was going to throw up. I frantically searched for a restroom, which turned out to be nowhere in site. Only seconds later, he had his hands cupped under his mouth, and they weren’t empty. Finally I saw a small trash can and rushed him over to it, where he was finally able to “let it all out.” Somehow I managed to keep hold of my toddler through all of this!
As we walked through the mall to reach the restrooms, which turned out to be on the complete opposite side that we were on, he did end up mentioning his birth mom a few times, which he hasn’t done in a while. The comments were always in passing, and he would always fade off after them. I could tell that she was on his mind, and I could very easily see just how badly it was hurting him. I doted over him for a bit, we sat in the Food Court, and just relaxed. He tried a Sprite, but that began to make his stomach gurgle, so I threw it away and got him bottled water. Both the water, and the extra attention seemed to do him a lot of good. His shoulders began to relax, which is always his first telltale sign that his anxiety level is dropping.
As we began to walk through the mall, again I made sure to ruffle his hair some, and put my arm around his shoulders and give him a squeeze, to let him have that physical reassurance that I was there for him. By the end of the trip he was a perky, happy kid, the boy I know and love. I was glad that he was able to have a happy day, and fight off the anxiety and depression that had been trying to take him over.
I cannot believe how much he has grown, how much stronger he is becoming. The new therapist and medication have done wonders for him, and yet even with all of his progress, and all the time that has passed, all it took to knock him down was a day. One forgotten day for both my husband and I, but not for, and I fear never for, our son.
Very compelling post. The psyche, so powerful. I’m curious. Would it have helped your son at all if you had just come right out and said something like “tomorrow is your mom’s birthday, has that been on your mind?” Or something like that. Or would that have just made him withdraw further and get even “sicker.”
I don’t know. It is so hard to watch kids suffer like that and even harder to get them to “let it all out” in ways that are adaptive and helpful for them, such as talking.
When he gets that anxious, bringing it right out in the open it just too much for him to handle. We will have to wait a day or two more before he will be ready and calm enough to start talking about it. I have already spoken with our family therapist so that she is aware now, and he can talk about it in his “safe place” with her.
He is however, today, being extremely loving towards both my husband and myself. I think he is feeling a little insecure, so we are havinig a nice family low key day.
His birthmom abandoned him for the final time, out of the blue, when he was 11. So he has a lot of anger built up towards her.