Bitterness

Bitterness doesn’t become me.  I guess it doesn’t become anyone, does it?  How many times have you heard someone say admiringly “oooh check her out!  She is totally rocking that whole angry, bitter thing.”  Uh…no.    

I have recognized some bitterness and anger in myself lately.  It feels funny, like shoes that don’t quite fit.  It isn’t quite my style, but I am wearing it anyway.  I try to shrug it off and sometimes I succeed, but it continues to creep up on me.  I find myself doing the “okay Jill, you’re going to stay positive today” self-talk in the mornings and then getting frustrated with myself because I fail.  The “Negative Nancy/Debbie Downer” hat is new to me.  I have always, always been a “glass half full” sort of girl.    

It is no secret that our adoptions have been a huge stressor for me.  It’s also no secret that Kyle’s adoption was rich in stress in ways that Zack’s adoption wasn’t.  We were not prepared for the scope of his medical needs and we were absolutely not prepared for the horrible way our trip ended.  Our homecoming hasn’t been smooth – there have been insurance/personnel snags with trying to get Kyle squared away.  Our finance office made a $7,000.00 error in my pay, which could not have come at a more inopportune time.  Our tenant moved out of our house in Illinois, leaving us about $10,000.00 in repairs that need to be paid before the property can be shown for sale or rented again.  There’s more…I could go on, but I won’t.  The events of the past couple of months have definitely created conditions favorable for bitterness. 

I am usually very able to let minor (and even major) annoyances go very quickly.  I’m a big believer in not stewing over stuff I can’t change and my mantra has always been “am I really going to care about this in 5 years?”  Thank you, Granddad Dutch for that one.  But lately, little things have been getting to me.   Stupid little things like a taxi being late or my 2+ year-old super cheap vacuum cleaner shorting out.  I think little things are getting to me because I’m not dealing with the big things that are bothering me (yes, people, I do have a psychology degree, no joke). 

I am smarting over the lukewarm support we got from our friends and community, and even some of our family members, for our boys’ adoptions.  I am certainly not saying everyone was unsupportive.  We have some wonderful friends and relatives who have bent over backwards to help us, and to welcome our boys.  But…it has occurred to me lately that as our family size grows, our relationships with people outside our immediate family deteriorate.  Fizzle out.  That “hey, we’ll have to get together” never happens.  Maybe that is normal, especially considering that most couples our age do NOT have two three year old “twinadoes”. 

I have been raised to believe that envy is bad.  I remember my mom explaining to me in second grade terms what the word “covet” meant.  To drool over someone else’s stuff or station in life was bad.  I have always believed it is right to rejoice for others when good things happen to them.  I have always believed in looking inward, sucking up, bucking up or perking up when something bad happens to me.  Maybe it was my fault.  Maybe it wasn’t my time, my turn, or meant to be.  This line of thinking has gotten me pretty far in life and has minimized my periods of wallowing over stuff that doesn’t go my way.  Until recently. 

I follow several other adoption blogs, just as I know those who follow this blog are other parents adopting from China.  I’ve read posts about how families report being “so blessed” to have such “amazing support” from friends, neighbors, coworkers and family members.  I see pictures posted of showers and other events to celebrate the arrival of a soon to be adopted child in to their forever family.  I see posts that rejoice over the fact that a family raised $12,000.00 in a month with a “puzzle pieces” adoption fundraiser.  I read blogs where the family has received such outstanding fundraising support and received so many grants that they have a surplus to donate to other families in the adoption process – paying it forward, so to speak. 

And I covet all of this.  These other bloggers are women who are walking the same path as me.  I’ve met some of them in person.  Some of them are just “online adoption friends”.  But, instead of rejoicing for these friends that their adoptions have been so well supported, I am bitterly envious of their blessings.  I’ve coveted every baby shower, every “sprinkle”, every airport homecoming party where the community gathers with “Welcome Home (insert name of newly adopted child)” signs and balloons, and every fundraising post where the family trills about how blown away they are that their friends have considered it “a blessing to help us bring our child home”.   These scenarios I describe have been so very far from my own experience.    

 
Adoption is hard, no matter which way you look at it.  Even the families who have their “villages” firmly behind them still agonize over the waiting and uncertainty, have headaches with paperwork and deal with undisclosed medical issues.  Many of these families struggle with initial rejection by their adopted children.  No one has it easy in this way we’ve chosen to build our families.  To admit that I grow angry and bitter over reading how good things have happened to good people that I have things in common with doesn’t make me feel great about myself. 

My two little boys were brought in to our family so deliberately.  They did not come to us by accident or on a whim.  But outside of a very few people, their becoming a part of our family wasn’t celebrated.  In Kyle’s case, it hasn’t even been acknowledged by many.  “Congratulations” is something I’ve only heard a couple of times.  And that has made me feel hollow.  The hollowness has turned me in to a resentful and bitter person who gets way too upset over a broken vacuum cleaner.    

I probably shouldn’t take any of this personally.  Although I’ve always been “that person” who organizes the showers, signs up to take meals for the families of new babies, buys a candle or a candy bar for somebody’s kids’ school, church or sports fundraiser, or raised my hand and said “I’ll watch your kids for you today”, I have never made a helpful or kind gesture just because I thought someone would reciprocate for me one day.  I’ve spent my entire life in service to others in some way, shape or form.  It is very difficult for me to raise my hand and admit that I need to be on the receiving end; that my family needs help and support.   

The fact that I’m bitter and hurt doesn’t improve things for me.  With a couple of exceptions, we were not well-supported and those in my close circles didn’t choose to celebrate the arrival of my boys. They may have intended to and dropped the ball.  They may not have known that I wanted or needed that.  They may have been busy with their own lives.  They may have just not thought that was the “thing to do” for people who adopt toddlers.  Maybe the “outside looking in” of international adoption is that you fly to the foreign country and are handed a child who is exactly what you expected and delighted to be in your family.  You fly home and life pretty much returns to normal.  Ha. 

Our fundraising wasn’t successful.  I probably don’t need to dig too far in to why because I don’t think it matters and I don’t think it would make me feel better.  We filled out 7 grant applications and received 1 small grant.  On a good day, I tell myself that the time I spent filling out the applications and gathering letters of references was worth it to receive the award we did.  I know the foundations that distribute adoption grants have many more families apply than they can help.  From where I sit, it does seem that having little to no plan for funding other than to believe that God will somehow make the money appear in time is what the foundations that give grants like to see.  I’m sure we’re probably not seen as having as great of a financial need as some families and our backup plan if we didn’t receive funding was pretty solid.  My bitterness over these things will decrease with time.  Yes?  Won’t they?   

I can conquer the bitter or channel it in to something positive.  I have a wonderful husband and a wonderful family.  It is an amazing blessing to have all of my children under one roof and I am thankful every day for the time I have with them.  I am super lucky to have our kids.  There are probably many who’d trade places with me in a heartbeat. 

I share these words for a few different reasons.  I write these words because I just needed to.  I guess it is part of the letting go process.  I share because it’s part of the uglier side of adoption…at least part of the ugly side of our adoption story.  I don’t think anyone’s adoption story is all unicorn farts and marshmallow cream.  Some families have to deal with the after effects of abuse and institutional neglect.  Other families struggle with bonding and attachment or are having to deal with relatives who are openly unaccepting of the new family member.  And finally, I share this in the hopes that one person reading this will have an “aha” moment and fuss over the next person they know that is adopting like crazy.   

There is no remedy for the anger and bitterness I feel, other than time, and maybe just giving myself permission to let it go and to more fully focus on the riches I have in my life.  So, I make that choice and I move on to see what is next.  It just might be something wonderful. 

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