My husband and I chose to adopt together.
We were assessed together, approved together, celebrated together.
We’ve had ups and downs since our child was placed. All sorts of changes have happened in our lives, and our life together. All sorts happened before our child was placed, but we were stronger together than alone and we stood strong. Now I feel like we’re less together than we were. And I was so unprepared for these feelings of loneliness, more than that actually, because there’s also frustration and annoyance.
In the darkest times, I want to walk away, or for him to walk away. Sometimes it feels like life would be simpler without him around.
My husband is a good man. He loves me and I love him. He adores our children, but finds our young son hard to parent. He struggles with being therapeutic. He is not, and never has been an angry man. My husband was always laid back and it frustrated our assessing social worker at times. But son knows what buttons to press, and gradually over the years, husband has become older, more tired, less accepting and more easily frustrated.
We have learnt the hard way that our parenting needs to be different to that of our parents. (Click to tweet)
Trauma picks holes in traditional parenting. Discipline gets kicked to the wayside by trauma. Trauma takes over everything. It leaks out of the pores of our children, and like a silent mist, it hangs all around us, and settles on our skin, and seeps in, deep within.
It feeds on our own insecurities and anxieties, and sucks away our confidence not only as parents, but people.
I get easily frustrated with my husband’s difficulty in accepting this trauma. I find it hard to accept my husband’s inability to change his parenting style. He tries, I know he does. But he needs to try harder before our son is lost to a path too narrow for us to rescue him from together. I try to support him, but frustration takes over.
In those moments I want to blow out the candle that is our relationship and do it on my own.
We’ll get through this I know we will. But I wonder if there will be enough of us left at the end to keep us going together after our son has flown the nest…
Many thanks to our first anonymous contributor for this post.