And so it begins.

I had three kids with check-ups this morning:  Edison, Zade, and Basia.  Roo came along for the ride. The doctor walked past Edison to get to Zade on the exam table and told Edison how cute he is and patted him under the chin.  Normal stuff.  Only she immediately felt something under his chin where she had patted.  She had me feel it.  Sure enough, there was a lump under there.  Surgery is very likely in the fairly near future for our little guy.  It doesn't seem like it will be too major of a surgery, but even a simple doctor visit is far from fun with Edison.  I don't want to think about what it will be like putting an IV in his arm.  Now he has to get scans done, pulminology clearances, and hospital referrals.  All because the doctor patted him under the chin in an aside.  Crazy.  Here's what the doctor expects the scans to confirm:

Thyroglossal Cyst


Zade's check-up went fine.  I filled out his developmental milestones paperwork and was honest when it asked if I have concerns about his behavior, but the doctor did not read it.  I hadn't decided if I wanted to talk to her about the concerns anyway.  I can't even remember how the topic of his behavior began other than remembering that Zade's exam was over.  With just a few of my concerns spoken, she asked about his family history.

And so it begins.

Many people won't adopt foster children because of what can be found in the family history.  We received cautions about "these types of kids" and how messed up they can be.  The hard reality is that, yes, all those who caution and stay away from the damaged children are right.  These kids do not come from happy homes with healthy parents, not a one of them.  That means there are drugs in the past.  That means there is alcohol in the past.  That means there are disorders and diagnoses and labels.  That means kids have been exposed in and out of the womb to scary things and have possible hereditary issues all mixed up with that.

And so it begins.

Then she explained why we need to get started on some evaluations.  Zade has been in our home for 2.5 years.  He has not had the uncertainty of seeing his first mom in 2 years.  He is in a home of faith.  He is in a home with structure and boundaries and discipline.  Instead of getting better, there are traits that are getting stronger and sadder all the time.  Yes, his trauma and neglect are factors, but there also may be some chemical imbalances happening as well.  He should feel pretty stable at this point.  Something is not right.  The doctor wrote up some referrals for levels of this and that chemical to get checked.  She wrote up a referral for a psych evaluation.  She wrote of a possible mental diagnosis, and it broke my heart and made me cry.

And so it begins.

It is getting real.  So much is easier now that most of my kids are MY kids.  That doesn't mean that life will be easy.  I know two or three of my kids are very likely to suffer from depression.  I have seen the signs and know their first moms suffered greatly.  I get constant examples of the nature vs. nurture debate, and I truly cannot believe how strong nature is in even the littlest ones.  I am not a person who likes labels or one who even believes in some of them.  How many times in the next 18 years will I repeat today?  How many of my kids will get a label or two?  How many times will I have to decide whether a medication is going to help the child function in the world or just mask the special person that child really is?

It is hard for me to post this.  I can't even type the diagnosis that the doctor suspects.  I hate labels.  I don't want to think there are people out there reading this and feeling validated for thinking foster kids are messed up.  I also know there are some out there who have not seen this side of Zade and who think I am the one who is messed up.  "Back off and let him be a little kid.  He'll grow out of it."  I worry about both those reactions of my readers, especially those who are friends and family.

In the end, Zade is still the same Zade, and I wouldn't change my mind about him being my son for anything. Foster kids aren't the sum of all the labels and exposures and problems that may follow them into the future.  They are kids.

And so it begins.