Beyond the Opioid Crisis I have previously discussed there are a myriad other reasons why Grandpa and Grandma find themselves suddenly raising their Grandkids. There are tragic accidents that may have taken one or both parents. There are illnesses that foreseen or unforeseen, have dealt a harsh blow to families. And there are parents (especially single parents) who simply can't cope and must walk away. These and many other circumstances that thrust children into a world they had no control over have one thing in common -- trauma.
The term "separation anxiety", though very apropos to these circumstances, doesn't even begin to describe the scope of the issues adoptive and guardian Grandparents will face with "trauma kids" as psychologists tend to refer to them. My wife and I in the ten years we have been raising our grandchildren have dealt with nightmares, fear of sleeping alone, bed wetting, anger issues, fear of separation, etc. etc. I personally slept (or would pretend to sleep) in the same room as our little guy from the time we got him at six months to the time he was four years old. I would sleep on a futon next to his crib first and then by his little bed with the side gates as he got older, until he fell asleep. Then climb in bed with my wife, sometimes not until 2 in the morning if he had an illness or his adenoidal sleep issues were particularly bad.
But I digress. I want to explain how we got here. I am not using their real names for the sake of anonymity. My wife and I have both had previous marriages and so we raised our children (one for her, two for me) separately. When we met some 30 years ago, my children were just finishing high school and her daughter was 13. Now I had been through the teen years with my children but facing them as a step dad was a little different. As a stepdad I soon came to realize that when kids become teenagers, aliens come down and suck their brains out. So they are basically crazy until they reach their 20s. And though my wife's daughter would readily agree with this description she has turned into an amazing woman who gives her family great pride in what she has accomplished. And my own children have gained achievements and exploits that have far surpassed any expectations I might have had for them.
My wife also had a stepson from her first marriage and this is really where the story begins.
Jason was a promising tennis player and sports enthusiast when he suddenly dropped out of high school before his senior year. And though he was in and out of Maggie's (my wife) life initially when we were first married, there came a time when we hadn't seen him for a couple of years. Then came a phone call with him telling us that he had just gotten out of prison (for drug related offenses) and that he would like to come over and show us his new baby. That's when we met Charly, a 6 months old bouncing baby boy who began to crawl around on our carpet and pretty much crawled into our hearts. It wasn't long before we were to meet Jason"s girlfriend, who also was just getting out of incarceration.
In fact my wife and I went to Addi's appearance before a judge for probation violations, to try to provide the support she needed to be released. The Judge was so surprised that someone was there to support her and vouch for her that he released her immediately. Then our first stop was at a doctor's office some thirty miles away so that we could buy Addi the Suboxone (a substitute for Heroin that is supposed to be less addictive but often is sold on the street because it becomes nearly as potent) she needed to make an attempt to stay sober. Then we took her home to see her baby. Charly stayed with us nearly every weekend and sometimes even more often. My wife and I were naive enough that we thought Charly's parents were just very busy. However, it wasn't long until we came to the realization that they had both had relapsed and were now raging heroin addicts. Thus began a mind boggling odyssey that took us down the rabbit hole of addiction and the toll it exacts on anyone in the vicinity.
Our Experience would be Different
Maggie and I were determined that if we loved on Jason and Addi long enough, if we stayed diligent enough, pushed them hard enough toward sobriety, we could save them. We invited them to church, we set up counseling sessions for them, bought them Suboxone , put a tracker on their vehicle so we would know when they traveled to the city to buy dope, let them stay in our home when they were on the street, and believed them when they said they had nothing to do with the money that was missing from us, the daycare center, and even Bible study members.
And all the while we gladly took care of little Charly because the delight in seeing his progress helped us endure all the other ugliness. I remember changing a messy diaper in the back seat of my car while I was parked at the the mall and thinking, "I don't remember doing this with my own kids!" Or settling him into a clothes basket so he could sleep with the cat while I got some work done. At that point we realized that although Charly wasn't living with us we were going to have to procure some items so that it would make life easier when he was with us.
Maggie was able to score a crib, a bassinet, a high chair, a carseat and some age appropriate toys from a garage sale in our neighborhood. We also made sure we had plenty of diapers and onesies on hand. Because of space limitations in our house (we kept our spare bedroom furnished for those times that Jason and Addi would live with us for a few months) we set the crib up in our foyer. There was a skylight in our foyer area so Charly tended to awaken with the sun. We would round the corner from our bedroom and there he would be standing up in his crib, greeting us with the biggest gummy smile, a smile he flashed much more than he cried. It wasn't long until we sometimes referred to him as the "foyer baby".
However, Charly was not always with us. Jason and Addi would find housing and set up a kind of home that could loosely be called a family unit. They would function pretty well for a short time but then the eviction notices would start because they had failed to pay the rent. Soon they were in a hotel room or staying with us. And again Charly was in our care more than he wasn't. This scenario would repeat itself over the next four years.
I also took on the role of driving Addi around to doctors' appointments, AA meetings and counseling sessions. She had a way of schmoozing everyone into believing she was progressing while in reality she was scoring heroin while exiting an AA meeting. One day I took her to her gynecologist, one of many doctors and specialists paid for with Medicaid and she emerged with a little enigmatic smile on her face. Yeah you guessed it...she was pregnant! When I told my wife she was literally speechless -- couldn't speak for several minutes. Then we began to deal with the reality of the situation. How were we going to keep Addi sober so that the baby had a half a chance. She assured us she was going to keep clean until the baby was born. Thus began another odyssey of trying to keep diligent with her ups and downs of keeping us in the dark while she went about her day, and us trying to be sure Charly was being taken care of.
Enter Reese
On July 10th, 2013, little Reese made her grand entrance with my wife and two of Addi's aunts in attendance. Reese emerged from the womb with the ravages of Suboxone coursing through her system, her little fists clenched so tight her fingernails were already digging into her palms. She would spend the next 6 weeks in the NIC unit while nurses monitored her 24/7 and while my wife and I and Jason's father would take turns sitting with this little peanut while she valiantly withstood what was going on in her body and made slow progress in making her way to normal.
Finally Reese was ready to be taken home. Jason and Addi took her to the tiny apartment they were renting and for a while they were actually a little nuclear family. Both had a strange way of compartmentalizing their use of drugs. Neither knew or wanted to know what the other was doing to get the dope their body was constantly craving. Jason continued to use during the pregnancy while Addi stayed clean "for the baby's sake". However, psychologists will tell you that the most vulnerable time for the addict is the couple of months after giving birth. And Addi was no exception. She relapsed within a 6 weeks after taking Reese home.
When Reese was first brought home, Jason and Addi were the picture of doting parents, preparing formulas and changing diapers. However, it wasn't long before both kids were settled into their baby carriers with a bottle of formulae carefully propped up with a blanket, watching cartoons. Or they would put them into their playpen with lots of toys or taking their naps. During these times Addi would spend hours on the phone or lock herself in the bathroom for long periods of time. Jason was a carpet installer so he tended to be away from the apartment for 8 or 9 hours a day. Thus the stage was set for Addi's relapse and her demons to return.
We would still take the kids every weekend and I was curious about why Jason was always the one that brought them over. One day I picked up the kids at their place and it didn't take long until I figured out what was happening with Addi. Diapers had gone unchanged, cereal and pantry snacks were all over the furniture and floor. She had lost weight (one of the first signs of addiction) and she was all over the place, unable to sit down for a minute's conversation. We had told them they would not be allowed in our house if they were using. So I had to reiterate this to them again. Addi of course denied any drug use and blamed her condition on a bad sinus infection and that the doctor had prescribed a medicine that made her loopy. One thing you quickly learn about addicts is that they are really, really good at lying. They have a plausible explanation for just about every contingency.
So here we were, with some really tough choices to make. Cut Jason and Addi off completely knowing in retaliation they would refuse to let us see the kids, or do we confront them with our concerns and try to get them to agree to some sort of plan that would have them take the hard road to sobriety. Either way seeing the kids might be off the table.
Comments