Expectant Mother – Adoption Journey Series…

The Second Home Study

Full-disclosure. Rape, Alcohol, Pot, Sexual History, Relationships…

The second home study came a few weeks after the first, and I felt a little less nerve-wracked than the first time… but only a little.

These meetings are important, I understand that and I feel grateful that they are a part of the process. There is a lot of food for thought in these meetings.

After the last one, I was also feeling excited about getting to discuss what to expect from the adoption process, to discuss things with Theresa like – how the matching process works, how the first meeting works, how we get to a first meeting with children, what happens after that, who else is involved in the matching process, and more practical things like – where to move, which schools were good ones, what kind of things I will need to have in place, and is there anything else I should know?

Since the beginning there has been a lot of information about the potential problems that the children may have emotionally or physically, and the ‘need for a good support structure’, but the practical stuff has not really been covered.

Perhaps these are the things I need to work out on my own? Perhaps all future parents wonder about these things and seek advice?

So I was looking forward to this meeting.

However, this home study was not as pleasant as the first home study.

There were two more questionnaires to be filled in, on the spot, while she watched.

Theresa told me not to feel nervous or uncomfortable, and let me know I was actually lucky to be doing this part alone, if I was a couple we’d have to each fill one in at the same time and then she would compare the answers.

One questionnaire was about the kind of parent I wanted to be, and even had spaces to fill in the blanks such as – how will you handle discipline, etc.

I was honest that at this point in time I don’t know many of the answers to those questions (there were others outside of just discipline, that was just one example) and that during this “pregnancy” phase I was determined to learn as much as I could about everything to do with children in the foster care system, the types of experiences they may have faced, and the emotional places they may be and then do everything in my power to act accordingly.

I expressed that it was difficult to imagine without knowing the child or children that would be my family, as each child is different with different needs. How can I preempt how I will respond to those children without knowing who they are and what they will need? I told her that I would do everything I could, once we had chosen one another, to get to know them, to understand them, to support and care for them, to encourage and to – most importantly – love them with all I have.

I was also very clear that I don’t believe in spanking (a question on the form) or any form of negative punishment. Rules, boundaries, and consequences – sure, but with love and respect and open communication.

So while there were a lot of blanks in my responses to direct questions about my parenting “ideologies”, that questionnaire was relatively painless to answer.

I would do everything I could for my children.

The other questionnaire was about my past – not the lovely stuff, but the uncomfortable stuff such as: was there any abuse, had I experienced anything frightening, run-ins with the police, use of drugs, alcohol, pornography, and my sexual history. All of these things were on the page and then discussed.

This was not so pleasant.

I went into this process feeling that I wanted to provide full disclosure about where I’ve been and what I’ve experienced. I felt that my experiences would only prove that I am even more equipped to understand, guide, nurture, support, and love, children who have been through their own difficult beginnings.

So I answered yes to the question of rape, yes to the question of drug and alcohol use, and then I answered no to the question of abuse.

Let’s deal with these in order:

Rapes:

One month after I turned 16, I was kicked-out of home during one of my mother’s suicide threats and temper tantrums.

I’ve been saying it that way for years, and at the time it felt that way, but looking back – had I been a different person, someone who didn’t really and truly WANT out of my home and to be free from my mother, I could have gone home after a week or two when things settled down.

I did not want to go back though. Once I had that taste of freedom, once I felt released and free of my mother’s shackles there was no way in hell I was ever going back!

However, I was still a child really, and had nowhere to run – though things always worked out for me, and is part of the reason I am so optimistic most of the time even to this day. Life really does work out so long as you are finding ways to believe they will.

I stayed with a  friend until her dad said I had to leave, then I stayed with her friend until her  parents also said I had to leave, then I stayed with the friend’s, friend’s boyfriend who I’d just met. There was also some time in a women’s shelter tucked in amongst those places. Eventually, I met and lived with a woman 10 years my senior who was slightly crazy but fun too. This is a whole other story so I’m just giving a little background here.

As a quick side note: do you ever look at a 16 year old and think back to what you were doing then and look at this innocent little child and think – wow I was SO young? I do, sometimes I am appalled at how young I was, but honestly at the time it didn’t register that I was still a child, I was free for the first time ever and it felt amazing.

My life during that time was one of drinking and parties, and dancing all night in clubs (if I could get through the door as an underage person, which was surprisingly easy).

Between 16 and 18, I was raped twice, by two different people, and – in hindsight, given the circumstances I often found myself in and my trusting nature, I’m surprised it wasn’t more often.

Both times I’d passed out when it started, and with one guy I might have willingly had sex with him if he’d made a move when I was awake.

The other time it was horrifying when I realized who was on top of me, this creepy guy that looked like John Denver from the cover of the album “The Best of John Denver – Volume 2” complete with the round glasses, the bowl cut hair, and the moon face.

When I woke to what was happening he had tucked a sheet under the back of my head so I couldn’t immediately see who was there. I’d originally thought it was the guy I’d been kissing earlier, the guy who said I could stay the night in his room while he slept on the couch.

Anyway, the thing is it happened and, while not a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination, I survived and I moved on. In fact, with the creepy guy I took control of my own sexuality two days later by having sex with someone I did desire, and by “taking my power back” in that way, I was able to release what had happened and move on. Even though the lookalike was still often in my vicinity as he was a friend of someone else who lived in our apartment block. I moved through it.

Did I report it? No, neither time. Did I have therapy? No, I did not – though I did talk to my two roommates about it briefly to be safe, so they knew if “anything further happened”. And I kept on living, enjoying my life as it was then.

I bounce back. I always have, and I hope I always will.

This was a concern for my social worker because I didn’t report it, and I didn’t follow up with therapy. At the time, I was more intent on living and enjoying my new-found freedom than worrying about “blips” in the road that were not taking precedence in my mind. It happened, I moved on, and I would not choose to live in fear of it happening again.

From the very first moment I found myself autonomous from my mother, I tenaciously followed what felt the very best to me in every situation. I selfishly chose to focus on the things that felt good, the next positive experience, rather than the stuff that didn’t feel so good when I focused on it. After all, there was no one to turn to but me, so I best make the best of it. I still choose to live that way and it has served me well, life has a way of working out for me, always – every time.

Drugs & alcohol:

Alcohol – There have been a few times in my life where I enjoyed partying during bouts of freedom. When I was kicked out of home I ended up with people I didn’t know in cheap run-down apartments where everyone drank every day from morning till night. I joined in. I started drinking. A lot. Sometimes from morning till night, sometimes all night and straight through the next day. Some might have called everyone who lived there alcoholics.

I was not an alcoholic, just caught up in the moment and enjoying the feeling of freedom and release.

Two other times in my life where I enjoyed daily consumption was when I left my husband and found myself invited to parties and clubs again – cutting loose and enjoying the moment.  And then again when I moved to Canada from Australia and ended up living in a small ski-resort town in staff-housing, where drinking every night was almost part of the job description!

In each case I continued to dance, drink, and be merry for as long as it felt fun, and then stop doing so when I felt a desire for a more settled space. It was like a “spring break” break out from life, that felt enjoyable sometimes.

Drugs – there were so many on offer where I was living when I was 16 and 17. Some of these people were absolute drug addicts who were snorting cocaine, and shooting up other stuff that they had to heat first – I saw it happen but didn’t know what it was. There were pills being popped and acid being dissolved on the tongue. And there was pot, a whole lot of pot.

For me, I already had the most VIVID imagination and the thought of taking any kind of drugs that would appeal to my imagination and perhaps enhance it (such as a hallucinogen) terrified me.

As a result, while I would watch them do it and still hang out while they were on it, I steered clear of all kinds of drugs.

Except Marijuana.

Pot.

I wasn’t interested when it was first offered to me from the people that lived in these apartments. But I always enjoyed the smell of it, and I knew that my brother used to smoke it sometimes and I trusted that he was still alive and didn’t go crazy.

So after many months of considering whether I really wanted to try it or not – and no one EVER tried to force me to have any kind of drug though they were all on offer – I decided to give it a shot.

The first time I smoked it, the whole right side of my face went numb and I went straight to bed! Slept for hours and hours!

Not happy with that result, I tried again with a little less the next time, and had one of those moments where you laugh so hard about absolutely nothing. It felt amazing.

From that point forward, pot became – in very small amounts and with moderation – a part of my repertoire of substances (haha, oh dear that sounds like there were a lot of substances, I’m actually talking about pot and alcohol). In fact, it eventually became my main choice and I stopped drinking altogether. I was happier, more confident, more creative, more connected, and more aware. It never had the “munchies” effect on me, in fact, it had the opposite effect. I was more active.

Then I turned my life around. I got a “real” job, a hospitality traineeship which involved classroom time as well as work time (like an apprenticeship) and I moved in with a new boyfriend, who eventually became my husband.

He wasn’t really into substances at all, but his mom and I would smoke pot occasionally together. And then I gave that up too as the years progressed and my life changed again. I changed direction with careers and started moving up the ladder after securing a job in the Department of Education in South Australia.

I never tried any other drugs. Only pot, it was something I enjoyed and I didn’t feel or see the need to try anything else.

On occasion, I will still partake in a sample and I still enjoy its affects. To this day I prefer it over a glass of wine, or a beer, and as for alcohol I have maybe a glass of wine once in a while, or a beer during a social gathering. Now, I mostly choose cranberry juice and club soda as my daily drink of choice. I’m not much of a drinker.

I was able to enjoy them while it felt right to enjoy them, and leave them when it no longer felt right for me.

This is a ‘no judgements’ post, I’m talking about my experiences only. Not making comment on whether any of this is right or wrong. I have very good friends who drink daily a glass or two of wine/beer with dinner or to unwind, and they are great people – and wonderful parents too. Other friends who have never tasted alcohol in their lives and they are equally great people – and wonderful parents too.

Use does not make a bad person or parent, abuse certainly can.

Checking the box “No” to abuse:

This was interesting because Theresa picked up on this and asked me if I felt that my mother’s suicide threats were not abuse?

Well, sure. Sure they were abuse. And yes, for a child as young as I was when they started, sometimes, it was really scary.

But as an adult now, who is completely in love with her life where it is and so, so, so grateful for all of the experiences that brought me to this place. It’s hard to look back and see it as abuse.

The label “abuse” doesn’t seem fitting from my now perspective, and it even feels a bit fearful to say, because if those experiences hadn’t happened – I might never have been kicked out, I might have ended up living with my mother after her divorce to my step dad (a few years after I left home) and I may never have escaped. I feel that I dodged a bullet (or a nuclear bomb) and I can’t look at that time with anything other than gratitude.

If the day I had been kicked out had been the first suicide threat or first “crazy” experience with my mother, I might have felt responsible for her or compassion toward her and may have wanted to stay and look after her. Then I may have been trapped forever.

Instead, I was like “Woo-hoo, you gave me an out and I AM OUT!”

So grateful.

But yes, I agreed with her that those experiences were abusive and that for a child sometimes very scary to live through.

There were other things we discussed this day that were not pleasant, including a former long-term relationship I had with a married man, but I’m not going to go into them here and now… this post is already a novel!

At the end of our session she explained a little of the “grading” system for adoption and how each area that they are evaluating has a point system from 1 – 5 and either end of the spectrum is a concern. 1 is a concern, and 5 is a concern, and what they hope for in a parent is an all-round 3. Or something like that!

My file had several 5’s that might cause problems for me with regard to being matched with children. Those 5’s might be flags to the social workers who work with the children before placement and they may not choose me as a prospective parent.

She said there were things we could do now, and she would go and think about the next steps for me.

Theresa agreed that all of the experiences I have had, and the way I’ve come through them, the way I “raised myself” for a good majority of my teen years, and for the person I am today – will make me an excellent mother to these children who may have experienced some, or all, of what I have. But on paper, without meeting me, this may not come through.

We also briefly talked about the support group I want to start for my area. I now have three people who want to be involved in a local support group. She was very happy I’m moving forward with this, as am I!

I feel hopeful.

While the person I am today is made up of many life experiences, I am so much more than any one of them, or any number of them combined. And for all the experiences that were negative, I’ve lived 1000x more that were positive.

This is something I will teach my children – we are never only one thing, and we are always starting over – each moment a new opportunity for change, growth, and a new direction. Nothing ever needs to hold us back, or weigh us down, or keep us in one place – unless it is a place we want to be – and no matter what has happened in the past, we can always release it, heal, and grow, we can live a joyful life and live each day with love and hope and faith that it will work out in our favor.

My life is good right now, really good, I feel in such a good place, a happy place, and I feel so grateful that I get to be me. I love who I am, I love who I have become, and who I am consciously becoming in each and every day. Everything that has happened in my life has brought me to this moment in time.

I feel ready to share the love I have for myself and my past – which contributed to who I am today – with the family of my future. I feel ready to help guide little ones through their own battles to find the happy, healthy, optimistic, love-filled, “other side” of themselves.

I feel ready to be a mom. I feel ready to love – for life. What a great place to be 🙂

At the end of our meeting I was feeling hopeful that despite all of the things that I’d been through, we were still on the same page, and everything will work out.

If you got this far….Thanks for reading!

Leave me a comment if you feel so inspired. Maybe let me know if there were things in your past that no longer hold any weight in your now, that may cause others to see you differently to who you are today.

Warm smiles and Love,

Ali Jayne 🙂