Ten Ways to Support To A RAD Mom

Ten Ways to Support To A RAD Mom
by Anna Glendenning

Reactive Attachment Disorder, RAD, is one of those things other people
don't really notice. The reactive part is usually seen and felt the
most by the primary caregiver--or the mom in most cases. What a RAD
Mom needs the most is support from others in ways you may have never
thought of.

1. A RAD Mom needs help teaching her child with Reactive Attachment
Disorder that mom's are in charge of taking good care of their
children. And that their mom is a good mom who takes care of her
children.

2. A RAD Mom needs friends who don't hug her RAD Child. The best way
to help a family dealing with a child who has reactive attachment
disorder is to help the child learn to get his or her hugs for mom and
dad. The same is true for other intimate things the child might want
to do, like sit on laps or give you a neck rub.

3. A RAD Mom needs friends who can support how we respond to our
child. No matter what the situation looks like the parents need to be
considered the ones in charge especially when it comes to discipline.

4. A RAD Mom needs people who have suggestions, ideas or criticism to
talk to us privately when our child is not around. Triangulation is a
natural behavior for children with Reactive Attachment Disorder and
questioning the parents in front of the child empowers the child.

5. A RAD Mom needs friends who don't fall into the trap of hearing the
child say, "I wish you were my mom, you are much better then the one I
got." Children with Reactive Attachment Disorder often shop for new,
improved and better parents.

6. A RAD Mom needs an occasional hour to take a shower or paint her
toe nails. A great way to be supportive to someone who is parenting a
child with Reactive Attachment Disorder is to offer her a break once
in awhile. Even if it's just to come over and supervise the child
while mom gets a break.

7. A RAD Mom needs time alone with a RAD Dad. Often one of the most
important things parents of children with emotional or mental health
disorders are told they need is respite. Families who adopt children
from the foster care system often receive adoption subsidy funds for
respite care. RAD parents need a regular break, but they also need a
respite provider who can deal with the issues of a special needs
child.

8. A RAD Mom needs friends who can remind her about why and how it
came about that she is the mother of a child with Reactive Attachment
Disorder. We need to be reminded that our child came to us this way
and that the best we can do is love the child and provide them with
the best we can.

9. A RAD Mom needs to be reminded that many children with Reactive
Attachment Disorder heal and become healthy adults. We need to
remember what the goals are with our children and like other parents
we need to hope for the best.

10. Most of all a RAD Mom needs friends. Parenting a child with
Reactive Attachment Disorder can be isolating and defeating. RAD mom's
often withdraw and feel alone. The number one thing we need is a
friend willing to listen and maybe have coffee now and then.

The next move

Let's see.  My last entry spoke of complete chaos in our family.  I guess I should let you know how we are recovering.  Fortunately, we have been guided in our actions over the past few months because there were certain people already in place who were instrumental in getting our life put back together.

1.        Our service coordinator.  Our neurologist had suggested him as a resource who could recommend the best service providers in our area.  They usually coordinate appointments and talk to Medicaid for you, which I didn't really need.  But as soon as he found out what had happened,  he immediately found us a new licensed PSR worker who has worked with RAD kids.   Thank heavens we had already gone through the paperwork and were using him because I use the word "immediately" very loosely.  Nothing with Medicaid is immediate.  The new worker is only starting to work with Dillon this week.

 

2.       Our therapist.  I'm so glad we had been going to a therapist who was helping us parent Dillon.  We already had a relationship in place with him when life fell apart, and he has been instrumental in helping us get through that.

A few months ago, I didn't really feel like we needed either of these people so I can tell you that getting them involved in our life was not an accident.

So what happens when a RAD kid gets his way and succeeds at triangulating adults? 

We are now dealing with defiance and rebellion like we've never seen before in him.  The worst of it was over in about three weeks.  We were told to stand firm in all of our rules and boundaries (which was incredibly exhausting) until he realized the rules were not changing and we are still in charge.  That has worked for the most part although he does still test a few things every day.  But he has also become resistant to any kind of work that requires even an ounce of energy.  He decided that if he drags his feet long enough, either sister will take care of the house work or it will just be time for bed and he won't have to do it. 

Enough of that.  I got tired of coaxing, pushing, and bribing him to get it done, only to have him dig his heels in a little deeper.  So one night he had 5 jobs to do that would have taken less than 30 minutes to finish (factoring in goofing off between each one).  It took him an hour and a half to just take out the garbage.  I decided that bed time could wait until he was done which wasn't until 12:45am (six hours later).  His field trip to Lagoon the next morning required him to get up at 5:30 so he was really tired that day.  Jobs are now pre-assigned instead of a group effort, but I have yet to confirm if one lesson was enough to send the message.  I'm guessing we will still have a few more late nights ahead of us.

He is also still overreacting any time he gets a scrape or a bruise – and let me reiterate that they are ALL self-inflicted.  If he gets enough attention from it, he will literally whine all day about it.  I've never seen a kid have so much stamina for crying, and his sister is really good at conjuring up fake tears.  This problem has greatly hindered learning to ride his bike without training wheels.  He won't even make it onto the bike before he scrapes his leg on a pedal and completely melts down and gives up.

Next stop – second grade in less than two weeks.  Heaven help us all as we plow through yet another life transition before this one is even over.

Some days are better than others

Dillon caused us some major stress this week and got us involved with CPS.  

 

To understand what happened, you need to understand a little about his Reactive Attachment Disorder which I have mentioned in previous posts.  He does what is called "triangulation" -which means he will say anything to get adults to believe he is a victim of his parents or any other adult who makes him do something he doesn't like.  It's his way of attempting to get attention and receive unending coddling and sympathy.

 

So last week on his birthday, he was standing next to Neal while Neal was helping Halle get out of the truck.  The wind, which is super strong on the front of our house, swung the truck door closed and it caught Dillon in the face.  Since Neal's back was turned, he only saw that his lip was cut so he cleaned that up for him.  We didn't realize it had gotten the whole side of his head until bruising showed up 24 hours later because he didn't complain of any other pain.

 

Anyway, that night he decided to show off and see what he could get away with while my parents were there for his birthday.  He jumped up on the table and his legs came out from under him which landed him on his back.  Again, more bruises, so by Friday evening he was looking pretty bad and you can see where this is going.

 

He's seen CPS come to his birth home over 15 times, so he's been asked abuse questions more than once, and he also knows he gets special treatment if he answers them a certain way.  This time, he was with his brand new PSR worker who didn't take the time to read anything in his history.  She asked him on Monday morning how he got hurt, he instantly said, "my dad hit me," and then she reported it and he was taken from us.

 

After hours of phone calls notifying our therapist, his neurologist, our lawyer, his doctor, and our foster care licensing worker who knows us almost intimately, they didn't file anything with the court and we got him back.  But it took a lot of people coming to our defense, and even a past history with the prosecuting attorney that certainly helped.

 

At first, the caseworker who had custody of him treated us like complete criminals.  The police came to our house late that night -at our insistence.  We weren't going to pull Halle out of bed to go down to the police station for hours of grilling.  We took them through a short history of our last year with him and after showing them his shredded sheets, the destroyed closet door, and other effects of his behavior, they were totally on our side.  Then the caseworker showed up and wouldn't listen to much that we had to say.  She insisted it would be at least 30 days before we saw him again.  Neal told me later he thought I was going to lunge at her from the couch, but I restrained.

 

Here's where Heavenly Father was watching over this boy.  His neurologist had to cancel his appointment last week due to an emergency and she only had one appointment left this week.  It happened to be the next morning.  We asked if he could still make it to that appointment because it was so hard to get in to see her, and the caseworker said it was absolutely important that he kept that appointment and she would be there with him.  That's all we needed.

 

Dillon eventually realized that after all the attention he was getting, the part of his life that's predictable had also been taken away.  He wasn't going to be sleeping in his own bed that night and he had changed his story three times by the next morning when we met them.  The caseworker spent the first 20 minutes trying to get Dillon to tell the doctor what he had told her, but he wouldn't give her any sensible answer by then - welcome to our world where at least we have Halle to play interpreter for him.  She even tried to take him out of the room and see if he would answer without us around but still apparently didn't get anything.

 

After that, the neurologist literally spent the first hour of the appointment berating the caseworker about the actions that had been taken against us, and then the next hour summarizing his past and his behaviors that we deal with, and then the last hour evaluating his medicine over the past month with us.  It was good to have someone actually defending us.

 

By the time we made it back to the prosecuting attorney's office after the appointment, the petition had been dropped.  Dillon apologized to the caseworker on his way back home for lying to her and to "Chuck and another guy (the police)."  And the first thing he did when he got home was make his bed.  The caseworker was not exactly apologetic because from our experience, they would never admit an error, but she was defintely more understanding.

 

What have we gained from this life experience?

 

We have a lot more confidence in our service providers and certainly more patience with their quirks.  We learned that all that time going to therapists and doctors may or may not be helping him personally (and some days it definitely feels like it's not), but it's certainly giving them time to know our situation. 

 

Our hearts are a bit more sympathetic for his birth mom.  She may not have done everything right, but some of her stories were absolutely true from our experience.  We can also understand now with different eyes what parents are experiencing when they lose their kids to CPS, no matter what choices the parents have made.

 

I also know now that I need to educate every single person Dillon works with.  I can't assume they have knowledge even when their credentials dictate it.  His 2nd grade teacher will be first on the list.

 

 

As my title suggests, not all days are like this one ended.  He is actually making major strides now that we have taken him off of his ADHD medicine.  The seizure medicine has brought him down to normal activity levels and he is finally teachable.  He's getting dressed and making his bed after a full year of constant prompting and redirection.  He can also empty the dishwasher and sort and fold laundry without supervision now.  He can sleep at night now without tearing up the room and great things are coming from it. 

 

He's a pretty messed up kid and our Heavenly Father is the only one who knows his true story.  We can only be tools in the Master's hands to turn his life onto a different path than where it was headed, and I think we are at least going in the right direction.

What’s a guy to expect when she’s not expecting?

I've seen reviews for this book, "What's a guy to expect when she's not expecting," but haven't read it yet.  The "10 things not to say to your fertility-challenged wife" in the article caught my eye.  I am proud to report that my husband has never used these lines, but maybe he could have used this book back in the years when we were first struggling with infertility.  Maybe it would have helped him cope with the emotional mess he married into. 

 

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/42096898/ns/today-books/t/whats-guy-expect-when-shes-not-expecting/

 

I believe that I was an avoider for about a year, but once we met a sister to friends of ours who had been through the adoption process twice, I suddenly became a doer.  I finally put all the unanswered questions behind me and abandoned medical possibilities for the hope of adoption which turned out to be the best answer for us.

 

 

The 10 things not to say to your fertility-challenged wife:
1. That's OK. I didn't want you to get fat anyway.
2. No more condoms? Cool!
3. Can't we just invest all that money in a flat screen instead?
4. Yes, but these doctors have yet to see my Super Sperm!
5. So if your sister carries it, does that mean I can finally sleep with her?
6. I don't even want kids.
7. Hey, did I tell you my ex-girlfriend's pregnant?
8. I discussed it with my mother, and she thinks ...
9. Don't worry. You're still relatively young.
10. But it's not my fault, right?

Valuable Internet Resources

1.  We are only scratching the surface with Dillon's reactive attachment disorder and we aren't super happy with our current therapist.  I just don't feel like he's addressing things but I'm not sure since he only communicates with us about every six months, so we are in the process of looking for a new one at the moment.  I want to make sure the new one understands how to properly address RAD, and this website has put the information in a very concise format with useful suggestions.  I also want to make sure I can be part of the therapy process and be able to get updates from the therapist weekly.

 

http://www.attachmentdisordermaryland.com/

 

2.  The 27 hours of "special needs" training we received from the state of Idaho to certify as foster parest was pretty useless in preparing us to deal with real-life behavior problems that kids in foster care will have.  It has taken me 8 months to finally come across this website for foster parents that offers online courses on a variety of subjects.  I haven't taken any of the classes yet, but I am hopeful that I will be able to use this as a valuable resource. 

 

http://www.fosterparents.com/

 

 

I'm Not Gonna Lie

I'm pretty sure we will be able to give Dillon a safe and happy home life and help him become a successful adult. However, the amount of grace and dignity we do it with still remains to be seen. I'm not going to lie to you. Adopting a six-year-old with special needs is not an easy task. Neal and I often debate with each other at the end of a hard day about who's first six months in our home were the most work – Dillon's or Halle's. Dillon isn't quite at six months yet, but we still can't decide.

Both times we have been in the school of firsts for learning new parenting skills. Halle as a new baby was a lot of work. She wasn't one of those kids that could sit contently somewhere and watch the world. In fact, we only tried once to take her through the grocery store still strapped in her car seat. She wouldn't have it because her social nature demanded human interaction at all times. The multiple nightly feedings, the diapers, the excessive laundry from a whole bottle of spit-up or major diaper blowouts, and everything else that goes with a newborn was certainly very exhausting.

However, Dillon challenges us intellectually as parents as we are constantly searching for the best way to parent him. Conversations about his types of needs don't often come up in play group conversations or basic parenting materials, so we have to gain our insights from specialists who have helped us tremendously. His high level of ADHD combined with what's called Reactive-Attachment Disorder (commonly found in children of abuse) as well as his high IQ make for a perfect storm of unique parenting situations on a daily basis.

For example, the things that don't work so far for discipline – time outs, sticker charts, losing toy privileges- you know, the usual stuff every parent uses. We have discovered, however, that running laps in front of the house does seem to work. I'm not sure what the neighbors think because there are days he gets about two miles of running done out front, but at least he's working off some extra energy. In fact, when we started attending the Love and Logic classes offered by our school district a couple of weeks ago, the teacher brought us special materials to read and listen to. Apparently love and logic is not quite enough for us, but I do think it's helping and the materials on RAD have been very insightful.

I don't believe there was any way for us to fully prepare for this experience of bringing Dillon into our family, but I do know that the Lord had a hand in giving us what we've needed to get this far. Had we been presented with Dillon even a year or two ago, I can confidently say we would not have been ready for him. However, through our major trials with Neal's unemployment two years ago and a lost adoption opportunity, we became so much stronger as a couple and discovered some valuable strengths we didn't even know we were going to need.

The Lord sees Dillon's potential as much as he also sees mine. I am grateful for this opportunity to be stretched a little (or a lot), and I am also deeply touched to have a spouse who has been willing to learn and grow right along with me.

It's only the third day of school and he's only in first grade . . .

I found myself chanting this over and over and over again by Friday afternoon last week.  Dillon started school on Wednesday and I was a nervous wreck.  I wanted some sort of reassurance from the heavens that Dillon wouldn't get overlooked or abandoned this year in terms of the extra help he's going to need - and I promise you he will need it.  Knowing nothing about his school resources or teachers, I just had to hope for the best.

 

Last week was a rocky start.  The first day was pretty good.  I dropped him off and then met him outside his class after school.  His teacher said he did fine in the classroom.  The second day wasn't so great for him in class.  And at the end of the day, I met him outside his classroom again so I could show him where to meet the shuttle that will take him to therapy every day- but the shuttle people forgot him.  I called, they apologized a million times, and then they finally sent someone to pick him up- but the point had apparently been completely lost on Dillon by then. 

 

Day three - Friday - I finally get a month's worth of medication to the school (an entirely different fiasco by the way) and while I was there, his teacher came into the office and said that Dillon didn't come in from recess.  She had to deal with another child so she only just noticed.  The bell had rung about 40 minutes ago and they panicked that he may have walked home.  I reassured them that it was more likely that he was still just playing outside.  Sure enough, I found him off playing by himself filling a plastic bottle with rocks. 

 

With that over, I was exhausted and needed a break.  My surgery had only been a week ago so I took a chance that the shuttle would find him today and headed down to my parents house to rest.  Apparently the shuttle did eventually find him because he was at therapy when Neal picked him up.  However, through Dillon's typical honest confessions, we learned that after school he had walked half of a block to Main street where the crosswalk lady was helping kids cross the street.  I don't know how they discovered him because the shuttle never called me and the therapy place didn't know anything about it.

 

And that's when I started chanting to myself.  "It's only the third day of school and he's only in first grade. . . " I drove Dillon back over to the school that evening and we walked from the first grade door to the front entrance where he's supposed to wait -back and forth, back and forth.  And then we went from the playground to the back door - back and forth, back and forth. 

 

Do I think he will remember today where he's supposed to go and when?  There's a 50/50 chance.  He knows the rules word for word when you ask him, but impulse often has greater pull in the moments he's supposed to remember them.  I know we will survive this first year.  It's just a matter of how graceful I can be about it when Dillon decides to challenge us.

Having a sister might make you a better person

I read this article today on MSN (below) and thought I would share it.  After raising Halle for four years as an only child, and then adding Dillon into our family, I can definitely say that siblings do make a difference.  It's such an important relationship, and I think I can also agree that sisters in a family really do make a difference too -although the claim that they make you a better person is a fairly generic statement.

 

 

Though siblings can sometimes be a pain, having a sister might be good for kids' emotional health, according to a new study.

The results show young adolescents who had sisters either younger or older were less likely to experience negative feelings, such as loneliness and guilt.

"Even after you account for parents' influence, siblings do matter in unique ways," said study researcher Laura Padilla-Walker, of Brigham Young University in Utah. "They give kids something that parents don't."

The study is part of BYU's Flourishing Families Project and included 395 families with more than one child, at least one of whom was an adolescent between the ages of 10 and 14. The researchers gathered a wealth of information about each family's dynamic at the study's start and then followed up one year later.

Sisters seemed to help siblings avoid negative emotions. Those adolescents with sisters were less likely than those without sisters to indicate feeling lonely, unloved, guilty, self-conscious and fearful. It didn't matter whether the sister was younger or older, or how far apart the siblings were age-wise.

Brothers matter as well, though their positive influence manifests in different ways. Having a loving sibling of either gender promoted good deeds, such as helping a neighbor or watching out for other kids at school. In fact, loving siblings fostered charitable attitudes more than loving parents did. The relationship between sibling affection and good deeds was twice as strong as that between parenting and good deeds.

"For parents of younger kids, the message is to encourage sibling affection," Padilla-Walker said. "Once they get to adolescence, it's going to be a big protective factor."

Many parents worry about the seemingly endless fighting between siblings. Indeed, the study found hostility was associated with greater risk of delinquency. But Padilla-Walker also sees a silver lining in the data: The fights give children a chance to learn how to make up and to regain control of their emotions skills that come in handy later in life.

"An absence of affection seems to be a bigger problem than high levels of conflict," Padilla-Walker said.

The study is published in the August issue of the Journal of Family Psychology.

One Month and Counting

The transition for foster children coming into a new home has a pretty predictable pattern to it.  In fact, they even have a name for the first phase called the Honeymoon phase.  The first few days or weeks, they try to be extra good and appear somehow to be angel children because everything is new and different. 

 

Once the newness wears off and they realize they are staying for much longer than they expected, it becomes a "crash" time (for lack of a better word since they didn't actually name that period that I know of).  All their trouble behaviors seem to appear all at once.  It's only after this "crash" happens that you can really start working with them.

 

Dillon had about a week of honeymoon, then about two weeks of crashing - literally and figuratively- and now it appears that we are finally at a point where we are making some progress with him.  During his two weeks of crashing, we felt like all we were doing with him was putting him in time out.  I needed a system to help me reward even the smallest good behaviors, so using my accounting instincts, I came up with a dollar system.  They could earn fake dollars for even the simplest things like making their bed, getting dressed and brushing their teeth. 

 

The first few days were brutal for Dillon as I walked out the door to the car in the morning and he's still pulling his pants on and carrying his shoes.  Then he would hit someone at daycare again and lose one and then another.  But he's finally starting to see the rewards now and he's getting really excited.  They both had enough money to buy a happy meal at McDonalds last week at the high price of $20 per meal. 

 

I suppose we will probably have to get into a discussion about currency exchange rates when they figure out how much things really cost :-)

 

Anyway, the good thing is that he's responding to our discipline and structure, which will hopefully translate into more enjoyable family time.  It's just that his impulsiveness (often called Elly- his stuffed elephant) seems to get him into trouble more than he would like.

A Family of Four - Act 1 Scene 1

So we have finally had the opportunity to have a successful adoption placement. His name is Dillon and he is six years old (19 months older than Halle). We were really nervous and had so many questions this time about the impact Dillon would have on our family and whether or not we could handle the change.

He came to us through the foster care system. I inquired on him when I saw his picture back in November 2009. We were one of about 4oo other people who also thought he was something special. Somehow it came down to us and another couple, and they initially chose the other couple. But in May they called us back and wondered if we would still be interested in him. The other couple had flaked out on them.

After one weekend visit with him, we really felt like it was right so we agreed to take him. The three weeks it took to get him moved to our home were probably the most difficult. We had so many doubts about what we were doing and experienced everything from panic attacks to complete euphoria. Fortunately we were kept extremely busy trying to build a room in our garage to move our office to, so there wasn't too much time to think.

The transition so far has been awkward and exhausting, but when I look back over the short three weeks he's been with us, he has made incredible progress. He no longer complains about what we are serving for dinner since Neal simply explained our expectations to him about meal times. He doesn't require melatonin to fall asleep at night, nor does he require a bare mattress to sleep on. Again, we explained our expectations and we've stuck to a bedtime ritual.

My biggest worry even became the least of my concerns. I thought it would be a nightmare trying to expect a boy with ADHD who can't sit still to behave for three hours of church. Neal and I are so busy on Sundays that I thought we would be pulled in all directions trying to keep him focused. However, I realized that church has a very predictable schedule even down to how we do our sacrament meeting and Dillon thrives on that. He's been doing great.

It's funny because I feel like each one of these small changes have been little victories in our parenting experience, and it encourages me to keep trying on the more difficult behaviors he needs help with. As I am thinking of implementing a behavior plan for Dillon to reward his good choices, I wonder if Heavenly Father gives me these victories to "reward" my good choices and help me to feel encouraged and keep pressing forward. The irony sort of struck me and helped me understand how important even the smallest successes can be.

It's then that I really do feel like a child because He knows Dillon's needs much more than we will ever know. We weren't there for him for the first six years of his life. There are experiences in his past that he may not ever be able to tell us about. We are truly in the hands of the Lord to know the best way to help Dillon overcome his past and become a secure and happy little boy.

A New Possibility

We have an adoption possibility forming that we are pretty excited about.  We had been considered for a 5-year-old boy named Dillion back in February, but between us and another family, the other family was chosen.  Last week I received a call from his caseworker, wondering if we were still interested.  I answered that we were.  We are now waiting for the decision process to take it's course with the state to know if it will really happen.

 

Their first meeting today was apparently "really positive."  She only left a message on our home phone and we didn't get it until it was too late to call her back. We aren't exactly sure what she means.  We only know that we need to schedule a time to go meet him in the next couple of weeks. 

 

We are excited about what this will mean for our little family, but we are also anxious to know what this will mean.  Who knows, but we will keep you posted as we learn more.

I Guess the Wait isn't THAT Long

Neal's business partner, Jerry, recently went with his mother for her first time to the temple. Her husband wouldn't allow her to go through while he was alive, so she waited the one year necessary after his death and finally was able to go and be sealed to him. She was in her nineties.

I think about how long she waited to have the blessings of a sealed eternal family and think to myself, "I guess I haven't waited nearly as long as she did, so I can wait a little longer." And then I think about Abraham and Sarah and I sure hope we won't be asked to raise a toddler in our 90's out in the wilderness. No thank you. I will settle for a few more years of waiting for my family. It's so hard not to worry, though, that they might not find us, but that just boils down to my extreme lack of faith.

Mother's Day is this Sunday, and although we have a beautiful, charming four-year-old daughter, it doesn't make the holiday any easier to bear. I have marked and accepted my limits on certain activities related to babies and mothers, and going to church on Mother's Day is one of those things beyond my limits. Baby showers is another place where the line is drawn. Acknowledging those circumstances that make me a depressed, self-wallowing mess and avoiding them without excuse has made life a little easier to deal with.

People are often unaware that just because we have been able to adopt one child, the pain of not being able to adopt or conceive another child is still there. I guess it will always be there, more intense at some times than others. However, I realized a little later than sooner that we all have to figure out our own ways to live beyond the pain and still find joy, or else we will waste our time waiting when we could be living.

So to that, I say "Happy Queens and Priestesses Day." To the mother who gave birth to me and has taught me so much, to the birth mother who gave us a beautiful child, to the mothers who are my friends even on my darkest days, to the mothers who are still waiting to be mothers, and to the mothers who are my in-laws, grandmothers, and my sisters in many ways. I love you all for the parts you are playing in my life.

National Infertility Week

I have the "blessing" of knowing that I will never bear a child of my own due to a complete hysterectomy at the age of 31. I say it's a blessing because the mystery of why I can't get pregnant is gone, and the question of a late period isn't there anymore. It's been a bittersweet peace of mind. I guess it's national infertility week, and my good friend, JaNan posted this link on her blog. She and her husband have struggled along the same paths we have and it's been so wonderful to have that companionship and support.

Below is Infertility Etiquette- everything I've ever wanted to say out loud but don't. And yes, these things do happen.

Chances are, you know someone who is struggling with infertility. More than seven million people of childbearing age in the United States experience infertility. Yet, as a society, we are woefully uninformed about how to best provide emotional support for our loved ones during this painful time.

Infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief. When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.

The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry. Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal.

As the couple moves into infertility treatments, the pain increases while the bank account depletes. The tests are invasive and embarrassing to both parties, and you feel like the doctor has taken over your bedroom. And for all of this discomfort, you pay a lot of money.
A couple will eventually resolve the infertility problem in one of three ways:

They will eventually conceive a baby.
They will stop the infertility treatments and choose to live without children.
They will find an alternative way to parent, such as by adopting a child or becoming a foster parent.

Reaching a resolution can take years, so your infertile loved ones need your emotional support during this journey. Most people don't know what to say, so they wind up saying the wrong thing, which only makes the journey so much harder for their loved ones. Knowing what not to say is half of the battle to providing support.

Don't Tell Them to Relax
Everyone knows someone who had trouble conceiving but then finally became pregnant once she "relaxed." Couples who are able to conceive after a few months of "relaxing" are not infertile. By definition, a couple is not diagnosed as "infertile" until they have tried unsuccessfully to become pregnant for a full year. In fact, most infertility specialists will not treat a couple for infertility until they have tried to become pregnant for a year. This year weeds out the people who aren't infertile but just need to "relax." Those that remain are truly infertile.

Comments such as "just relax" or "try going on a cruise" create even more stress for the infertile couple, particularly the woman. The woman feels like she is doing something wrong when, in fact, there is a good chance that there is a physical problem preventing her from becoming pregnant.

These comments can also reach the point of absurdity. As a couple, my husband and I underwent two surgeries, numerous inseminations, hormone treatments, and four years of poking and prodding by doctors. Yet, people still continued to say things like, "If you just relaxed on a cruise . . ." Infertility is a diagnosable medical problem that must be treated by a doctor, and even with treatment, many couples will NEVER successfully conceive a child. Relaxation itself does not cure medical infertility.

Don't Minimize the Problem
Failure to conceive a baby is a very painful journey. Infertile couples are surrounded by families with children. These couples watch their friends give birth to two or three children, and they watch those children grow while the couple goes home to the silence of an empty house. These couples see all of the joy that a child brings into someone's life, and they feel the emptiness of not being able to experience the same joy.

Comments like, "Just enjoy being able to sleep late . . . .travel . . etc.," do not offer comfort. Instead, these comments make infertile people feel like you are minimizing their pain. You wouldn't tell somebody whose parent just died to be thankful that he no longer has to buy Father's Day or Mother's Day cards. Losing that one obligation doesn't even begin to compensate for the incredible loss of losing a parent. In the same vein, being able to sleep late or travel does not provide comfort to somebody who desperately wants a child.

Don't Say There Are Worse Things That Could Happen
Along the same lines, don't tell your friend that there are worse things that she could be going through. Who is the final authority on what is the "worst" thing that could happen to someone? Is it going through a divorce? Watching a loved one die? Getting raped? Losing a job?

Different people react to different life experiences in different ways. To someone who has trained his whole life for the Olympics, the "worst" thing might be experiencing an injury the week before the event. To someone who has walked away from her career to become a stay-at-home wife for 40 years, watching her husband leave her for a younger woman might be the "worst" thing. And, to a woman whose sole goal in life has been to love and nurture a child, infertility may indeed be the "worst" thing that could happen.

People wouldn't dream of telling someone whose parent just died, "It could be worse: both of your parents could be dead." Such a comment would be considered cruel rather than comforting. In the same vein, don't tell your friend that she could be going through worse things than infertility.

Don't Say They Aren't Meant to Be Parents
One of the cruelest things anyone ever said to me is, "Maybe God doesn't intend for you to be a mother." How incredibly insensitive to imply that I would be such a bad mother that God felt the need to divinely sterilize me. If God were in the business of divinely sterilizing women, don't you think he would prevent the pregnancies that end in abortions? Or wouldn't he sterilize the women who wind up neglecting and abusing their children? Even if you aren't religious, the "maybe it's not meant to be" comments are not comforting. Infertility is a medical condition, not a punishment from God or Mother Nature.

Don't Ask Why They Aren't Trying IVF
In vitro fertilization (IVF) is a method in which the woman harvests multiple eggs, which are then combined with the man's sperm in a petri dish. This is the method that can produce multiple births. People frequently ask, "Why don't you just try IVF?" in the same casual tone they would use to ask, "Why don't you try shopping at another store?"

Don't Be Crude
It is appalling that I even have to include this paragraph, but some of you need to hear this-Don't make crude jokes about your friend's vulnerable position. Crude comments like "I'll donate the sperm" or "Make sure the doctor uses your sperm for the insemination" are not funny, and they only irritate your friends.

Don't Complain About Your Pregnancy
This message is for pregnant women-Just being around you is painful for your infertile friends. Seeing your belly grow is a constant reminder of what your infertile friend cannot have. Unless an infertile women plans to spend her life in a cave, she has to find a way to interact with pregnant women. However, there are things you can do as her friend to make it easier.

The number one rule is DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY. I understand from my friends that, when you are pregnant, your hormones are going crazy and you experience a lot of discomfort, such as queasiness, stretch marks, and fatigue. You have every right to vent about the discomforts to any one else in your life, but don't put your infertile friend in the position of comforting you.

Your infertile friend would give anything to experience the discomforts you are enduring because those discomforts come from a baby growing inside of you. When I heard a pregnant woman complain about morning sickness, I would think, "I'd gladly throw up for nine straight months if it meant I could have a baby." When a pregnant woman would complain about her weight gain, I would think, "I would cut off my arm if I could be in your shoes."

I managed to go to baby showers and hospitals to welcome my friends' new babies, but it was hard. Without exception, it was hard. Stay sensitive to your infertile friend's emotions, and give her the leeway that she needs to be happy for you while she cries for herself. If she can't bring herself to hold your new baby, give her time. She isn't rejecting you or your new baby; she is just trying to work her way through her pain to show sincere joy for you. The fact that she is willing to endure such pain in order to celebrate your new baby with you speaks volumes about how much your friendship means to her.

Don't Treat Them Like They Are Ignorant
For some reason, some people seem to think that infertility causes a person to become unrealistic about the responsibilities of parenthood. I don't follow the logic, but several people told me that I wouldn't ache for a baby so much if I appreciated how much responsibility was involved in parenting.

Let's face it-no one can fully appreciate the responsibilities involved in parenting until they are, themselves, parents. That is true whether you successfully conceived after one month or after 10 years. The length of time you spend waiting for that baby does not factor in to your appreciation of responsibility. If anything, people who have been trying to become pregnant longer have had more time to think about those responsibilities. They have also probably been around lots of babies as their friends started their families.

Perhaps part of what fuels this perception is that infertile couples have a longer time to "dream" about what being a parent will be like. Like every other couple, we have our fantasies-my child will sleep through the night, would never have a tantrum in public, and will always eat his vegetables. Let us have our fantasies. Those fantasies are some of the few parent-to-be perks that we have-let us have them. You can give us your knowing looks when we discover the truth later.

Don't Gossip About Your Friend's Condition
Infertility treatments are very private and embarrassing, which is why many couples choose to undergo these treatments in secret. Men especially are very sensitive to letting people know about infertility testing, such as sperm counts. Gossiping about infertility is not usually done in a malicious manner. The gossipers are usually well-meaning people who are only trying to find out more about infertility so they can help their loved ones.

Regardless of why you are sharing this information with someone else, it hurts and embarrasses your friend to find out that Madge the bank teller knows what your husband's sperm count is and when your next period is expected. Infertility is something that should be kept as private as your friend wants to keep it. Respect your friend's privacy, and don't share any information that your friend hasn't authorized.

Don't Push Adoption (Yet)
Adoption is a wonderful way for infertile people to become parents. (As an adoptive parent, I can fully vouch for this!!) However, the couple needs to work through many issues before they will be ready to make an adoption decision. Before they can make the decision to love a "stranger's baby," they must first grieve the loss of that baby with Daddy's eyes and Mommy's nose.

Adoption social workers recognize the importance of the grieving process. When my husband and I went for our initial adoption interview, we expected the first question to be, "Why do you want to adopt a baby?" Instead, the question was, "Have you grieved the loss of your biological child yet?" Our social worker emphasized how important it is to shut one door before you open another.

You do, indeed, need to grieve this loss before you are ready to start the adoption process. The adoption process is very long and expensive, and it is not an easy road. So, the couple needs to be very sure that they can let go of the hope of a biological child and that they can love an adopted baby. This takes time, and some couples are never able to reach this point. If your friend cannot love a baby that isn't her "own," then adoption isn't the right decision for her, and it is certainly not what is best for the baby.

Mentioning adoption in passing can be a comfort to some couples. (The only words that ever offered me comfort were from my sister, who said, "Whether through pregnancy or adoption, you will be a mother one day.") However, "pushing" the issue can frustrate your friend. So, mention the idea in passing if it seems appropriate, and then drop it. When your friend is ready to talk about adoption, she will raise the issue herself.

So, what can you say to your infertile friends? Unless you say "I am giving you this baby," there is nothing you can say that will erase their pain. So, take that pressure off of yourself. It isn't your job to erase their pain, but there is a lot you can do to lesson the load. Here are a few ideas.

Let Them Know That You Care
The best thing you can do is let your infertile friends know that you care. Send them cards. Let them cry on your shoulder. If they are religious, let them know you are praying for them. Offer the same support you would offer a friend who has lost a loved one. Just knowing they can count on you to be there for them lightens the load and lets them know that they aren't going through this alone.

Remember Them on Mother's Day
With all of the activity on Mother's Day, people tend to forget about women who cannot become mothers. Mother's Day is an incredibly painful time for infertile women. You cannot get away from it-There are ads on the TV, posters at the stores, church sermons devoted to celebrating motherhood, and all of the plans for celebrating with your own mother and mother-in-law.
Mother's Day is an important celebration and one that I relish now that I am a mother. However, it was very painful while I was waiting for my baby. Remember your infertile friends on Mother's Day, and send them a card to let them know you are thinking of them. They will appreciate knowing that you haven't "forgotten" them.

Support Their Decision to Stop Treatments
No couple can endure infertility treatments forever. At some point, they will stop. This is an agonizing decision to make, and it involves even more grief. Even if the couple chooses to adopt a baby, they must still first grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes.

Once the couple has made the decision to stop treatments, support their decision. Don't encourage them to try again, and don't discourage them from adopting, if that is their choice. Once the couple has reached resolution (whether to live without children, adopt a child, or become foster parents), they can finally put that chapter of their lives behind them. Don't try to open that chapter again.

And I need to add one more - Don't recite the story of the friend you knew who adopted and then got pregnant the next month. That's fantastic for them but not likely for the rest of us so it only makes things worse.

A Change of Heart

After adopting Halle, we were anxious to recertify and start looking for another new family member since we didn't know how long that search might take.  So on May 31st, 2007, a month and a half after my hysterectomy, we had the papers approved.  

 

Now, almost three years later, we have had one official failed adoption, almost got selected another time for a little boy, and at least 75 other hopeful possibilities in between.  To say the least, we have had our ups and downs.  However, looking over the past three years I can see my heart being opened, little by little.  As time wanes on, I start to feel like some adoption situations I wasn't previously open to are not as scary now as they were before.

 

We gave gone from-

 

We only want to adopt babies

to

We only want to adopt kids that are younger than Halle

to

We will only adopt a child a little older than Halle if there is another one that's younger, and only if the older one is a girl that doesn't have too many problems.  She definitely can't have FAS or other drug-related problems and we can't deal with abuse of any kind.

to

We will only adopt a child older than Halle if there is another one that's younger or the same age, and it would be ok if they were boys.  Still can't accept the FAS or drug-related problems but we are ok with physical deformities and some cognitive delays as well as some degrees of abuse.

to

Well, we aren't to the next step yet.

 

Each change of heart has taken time as well as education.  Once we learned more about certain special needs, it didn't seem as impossible to handle as it had once before.  For the past two years, Neal and I have both had many various opportunities to work with children with autism in our ward.  We have about six kids that I know of who are either in Primary or just graduated.  What a learning experience for both of us as we help them to keep up with the class and participate in their own ways.

 

So as the Lord continues to prepare us for the special children he has in store for us, we keep praying for them.  We know they are experiencing trials right now that, as a mother, I would never want them to be exposed to.  But since I can't protect them, I have to rely on the Lord to be at their side until they are safely in our arms.