Alone

Last Thursday I took Primero and the kids to visit Esperanza in the hospital. She was suffering from a burst ovarian cyst and being monitored for any complications. Primero insisted on visiting her, following an emotional morning phone call from his mom. While I knew Esperanza was going to be fine, Primero and his mom seemed be believe she was in dire condition. Primero wanted to walk there after school but I didn’t want him crossing so many busy roads at rush hour with it getting dark so early. I told him to wait until I got home and I would take him over. I thought I could just wait in the lobby area with the little ones while Primero visited with his sister to see she was going to be ok and then we could go back home. It wasn’t long after Primero disappeared that his mother came out and waved us to follow her into Esperanza’s room.

 

Things were going well, or as well as could be expected with two rambunctious children in a hospital room. We had been there for 30 minutes or so when Primero’s mom grabbed her phone and left the room. I assumed she was taking a smoke break until a few minutes later when Primero looked at his phone and then left the room. Before his mother left, Primero had mentioned their aunt who had been with their uncle who passed away, planned on visiting with Esperanza. The aunt showed up not long after Primero and his mom left the room. She stayed and chatted for a bit before needing to return to her shift in the ER. She is expecting a baby in April and, after two girls, she is having a boy. Primero is distraught, accusing her of replacing him (she had helped to raise Primero when he was small). The kids were growing more antsy and rowdy by the minute and Esperanza was dozing off from her meds. I text Primero that it was time for us to go. He came back into the room to ask me if we could take his mom home to her place to get some things and bring her back to the hospital. Sighing, I agreed. Primero left the room and didn’t come back, so I decided to get the kids ready and take our leave so we could find him and go.

 

We found Primero, his mom and aunt in the guest lobby at the end of the hall. His mom was sobbing and recounting to the aunt all she had given up to move back to town a few weeks ago. She lamented the death of her boyfriend and relayed how it hurt her when her brother told her she shouldn’t be mourning him because they weren’t together that long. Eventually, she stopped crying and we were able to leave. We had a long walk back to the van with two tired kids. We drove Primero’s mom across town to her place. She had found a ride back to the hospital, so we didn’t have to take her back. We dropped her off and Primero asked to drive home. I was grateful because the drama of the evening had drained me. I expressed that to Primero, how it is hard for me to be around his mom because I have never spent time with her and not have had some form of blow-out or melodramatics derail the visit. I also explained that my natural reaction to someone in the throes of drama is to go nearly catatonic. I withdraw, hoping my absence of drama will somehow balance the over-dramatic and we can once again reach an equilibrium. Sadly, it just doesn’t work that way and for Primero’s mom, it makes me seem stand-offish.

 

I am struggling with what to do about Christmas. I mentioned a portion of what happened at Thanksgiving here, but other things happened that I feel make it hard for me to visit, especially with the little ones. Primero mentioned not being in the Christmas spirit this year when we were at the laundromat last night (our “new” dryer broke over the weekend). I have been putting off the discussion I know I need to have with him because I don’t want to fight, but I am contemplating not going to his uncle’s place (assuming we will be invited). I just can’t have the little ones around some of the things that transpired there, not just because I don’t agree with it but because they are in foster care and I have to report these things. I haven’t heard anything back from my case worker after telling her what happened over Thanksgiving, but I wouldn’t be surprised to hear they don’t want the kids to visit. I’ve been reading (for months now because I don’t get much free time to read) Lori Holden’s book “The Open-Hearted Way to Open Adoption” in hopes of finding my way in this tangled path, but I’m still confused. I promised Primero to be open, I promised him I would treat his family as my own. But, in all honesty, if this were my family I think I would be more harsh and less-forgiving. The decision to not come around would be very easy to make. I’ve thought about reaching out to Primero’s old case worker because I know he still talks to her and she seems to understand him. But, I don’t want to impose on her time, she is no longer our case worker and she has her own life. I tried posting on an adoption website, thinking people would “get it” but mostly I was berated for contemplating going back to a situation that had the potential for problems for the little ones and Primero alike. It was suggested I find a neutral place to visit, like a bowling alley or pizza place. That isn’t realistic on Christmas day for one, but it would also limit the people Primero would be able to see, since not everyone who goes to his uncle’s would be willing to meet us out somewhere. Besides, there is really no way for me to even float this as an idea because his uncle doesn’t have direct contact with me, despite my efforts. I don’t know what to do. Do I keep visiting and hope for a better outcome? That sounds an awful lot like insanity. Do I stop visiting and try my best to deal with the painful fall-out and potentially losing Primero? I feel like I’m at a cross-roads and yet I don’t like either path that lies before me. I’m always one who seems middle ground a place of compromise. But, I can’t get there by myself and I feel hopeless in trying to have an adult conversation with Primero’s uncle because he shuns me and shuts me out. Mostly, I feel alone. No one understands me, no one understands our situation. And no one can help me through this.