Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Adoption”

13 Mar 2021

Never Give Up


***as I do with a post like this, I need to offer this disclaimer for my trolls… nothing in this post represents anything about my particular domestic situation, and any similarity is purely coincidental.  Move on.

I see these stories several times a week, “I just can’t take any more,” or “I’m done!”, referencing domestic battles with former spouses and strained relations with children, due to bitter breakups.  Actually, bitter is often an understatement.  I often find myself able to relate as an adult, but the advice I give, is from a different angle, that, as an adult child of divorce.  It is one thing to think about how the actions affect a child now, but what about their future?

The stories are all start the same way.  “At what point do you give up?”  And to be clear, these situations are not just fathers in this position, but mothers as well.  This particular begins with an introduction to how long the situation has been, and how old his child is.  Close to a decade, the child is well into the teens now, which can cause problems of its own.

He mentions the time and efforts spent in court, fighting for his rights for custody to see his child, years.  There is no mention of any other issue related to the parents (such as support or abuse).  There are hints of cooperation, but they are few and far between before they end up back in court.

And then there are the efforts the father goes to, just to see his child.  The child was moved hours away by the custodial parent.  He makes no complaints about the lengths he goes to, to continue his relationship with his child.  But along with the temperament of a moody teenager, in his situation, the mother has had influence over the child as well, in a negative way towards the father.

There are so many parents in this situation.  This could easily be their story.

Money.  Time.  Distance.  Sacrifice.  The father did it all because the child meant so much to him.  The love is unconditional.

But this does take a toll on individuals emotionally and physically.  It ends one of four ways.  The parent keeps fighting, eventually coming out the other side with an amicable relationship finally worked out.  The parent keeps fighting, until the stress is too much for the body to handle, and with the resulting poor health, succumbs.  Sometimes, the fight is too much to handle emotionally, and a parent seeks the ultimate end, tragically, no longer able to fight, no longer able to live without the child they loved and raised.

And then there is the fourth option.  He writes, “when do you say ‘I love you and am here for you always,’ then walk away, defeated and beaten?

My response to him was two words, “you don’t.”

You don’t ever give up.  As I said in my disclaimer, I am careful not to mention my personal situation with my family.  I am speaking as an adult child of divorce.

I would eventually take on his issues one by one, giving a reality check from my ACOD point of view.

“Have to travel hours because the mother moved the child.”  My father lived ten minutes away from me.

“I am constantly in court, fighting for my visitation rights.”  Join the club.  You do what you have to do to be able to see your child.

“I just can’t do it anymore.”  Wrong.  You have to.

My point to him was not one of not understanding his situation, even from an ACOD reflection, he mentioned the distance and what it “cost” him, all of the sacrifices he made.  And then I wrote to him, “whether 8 hours or 10 minutes, you don’t give up.  No matter the situation you are in, as hard as it is, find someone to lean on, someone who understands or knows what you are going through, but you never give up.  My father gave up.  He lived only ten minutes away from me.  He had fights with my mother, but he gave up.  And then I grew older.  And that is what I knew.  He gave up.”

I know there are two sides to every story.  But I lost most of my childhood, and nearly a decade of my adulthood, with feelings against my father, because he “gave up.”  Time lost, neither of us could get back.  Any words spoken of that time, may provide understanding, but would never replace what was lost.

And yes, I said I don’t refer to my own divorce, but I will say this, it is because of what I went through with my father, that I promised myself and my daughters, I would never let that happen with us.  I would never give up.

And that is exactly what I said to this other father, “you don’t” give up.  Ever.  Your child will never forget if you did.

 

Posted in Adoption, Bullying, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By... | Leave a comment
11 Mar 2021

A Dad’s Thoughts


Ask anyone who knows me personally, and they will tell you that I think of my daughters all of the time.  Whether they were at daycare, in school, at a friend’s house, or in between visits, my mind is always going.

There are things that they have witnessed as children, they still have not taken the time to grasp, if they even will at all.  I have been completely open with my daughters that their questions should be answered.  And likely, there will be doozies that they were involved with, from issues related to the divorce, to their adoptions.

In the meantime, their lives have been spent with me making sure that they grew up with basic values, respect, trust, love.  It was important that they not only learned right from wrong, but why it was so.  I taught them that nothing that they succeed in, can come at anyone else’s expense.

The last several years, have been spent learning about prioritizing, time and money management, thinking about… THE FUTURE!!!!  Not to make the mistakes I made growing up.

The one thing that has been consistent?  I have let my daughters know, every chance that I get, that I am proud of who they are, and the things that they have done.  Of course, now older teenagers, when I do this, there is a response of an eye roll so bad into the backs of their heads, it produces a crashing sound of thunder.  Have I done it so much, that it has lost meaning over time?

This weekend is the first opportunity for the SATs in 2021.  As a rule, I loathe standardized tests as too much time in schools is spent teaching to take those tests.  But the SATs are different.

I do not remember that much about my first, and only SAT.  That was almost forty years ago, YIKES!  I had no prep.  I had no PSAT for practice.  I knew of no other opportunities to take the SAT again.  I had no guidance.  I was on my own.  This is referred to as “the school of hard knocks.”

My Dad was not there for me, most of my childhood and that was the way most of my life went, without all of these influences and needs being met.  There were no examples laying before me or any kind of playbook on decisions that had to be made with my daughters.  I raised my daughters the way that I wish I had been.

I cannot imagine the kind of student, or teenager I would have been, had my Father been as much of an influence as me with my daughters.  I was not an “eyeroller” because I just did whatever the Hell I wanted.  I was unsupervised.

All I knew was, my daughters were going to know that I love them and care about them, unconditionally.

Learning from my past, my older daughter heads into her first opportunity with the SAT, understanding that she is going to take the SAT at the minimum a second time.  She has had tutoring to help her along the way, with a huge study guide, and an on-line study program.  She has taken the PSAT (practice SAT) twice.  In other words, unlike I did forty years ago, just showing up on a Saturday morning to take the SAT, my daughter is as prepared for the SAT as she can be.  My younger daughter is just behind her at the PSAT level.

And yes, cue the sound of the “eyeroll thunder.”  I am proud of them.  And I will let them know it.  I am pretty sure that my older daughter would make a great poker player, as she never shows her hand when it comes to nerves.  If she is nervous about this weekend, she is not showing it.  She never has.  It is that one final thing that both have been taught, in the end, she did her best.  And whatever score she gets, that was her best.  If it needs to be better, she will work on it.  But for now, she gives her best, does her best.  It is her best.

Good luck to my older daughter this weekend.  I know you will do well.

Posted in Adoption, Animals, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By... | Leave a comment
03 Mar 2021

31 Years, An Odd But Very Important Milestone


March 3, 1990, I woke up that morning from the most challenging time period of my life (at the time any way).  This day, just following breakfast, I took the last of my oral chemotherapy drugs (having finished the IV part the day before).  I was done with my nine months of chemotherapy (originally scheduled for eight, but low blood counts stalled me a month) for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

That was thirty-one years ago today.  Unlike last year’s anniversary, which I definitely celebrated as a milestone (30 years), actually, thanks to Covid19, was the last thing I celebrated before mitigation efforts were enacted, I am not making a big deal about “just another year” until I hit my next recognized milestone of forty years, which to be honest, my goal is to hit fifty years.

But today is a milestone for a different reason.  It was a time I was told not to expect to see, not just from possibly dying from cancer, but issues related to the side effects from the treatments.

I was told that due to the toxicity of my treatments, it was unlikely that I would be able to have children.  Not something a newly married twenty-two year old wants to hear (or his fiance).  And back in 1990, there was not much said about options to becoming a family.

Science would rule out the possibility for me officially, as I call it, “no chocolate chips in the cookie dough” how I explain it when mixed company is around.  A decade later, science would take another crack at me, after learning how to possibly reverse said infertility issues, but came up blank again.  One final option to consider, was adoption.

Unfortunately, in the United States, we like to discriminate against people, for any reason.  If there is an opportunity to tell someone “no,” and crush a hope, there are just too many willing to do it.  And so, because of my health history, even if ten years earlier, adopting from the United States was a “no,” because I had cancer, a long time ago.

And then things changed, an opportunity coming from the last place I would have ever thought, and from the farthest reaches, China.  The international program recognized that I had a cancer history, and asked only one concern, “will you live an expected, normal life?”  It had already been twelve years at that point, and I was healthy, no sign of my cancer.

In eleven days, I will recognize the seventeenth year, since my oldest daughter was placed in my arms.  I have already recognized the fifteenth year for my younger daughter.

I am not necessarily recognizing the seventeen years as the milestone, but this month is going to recognize a bigger milestone, as my older daughter, will turn eighteen.  I will then be a parent of an adult child!

Again, this was a day I was told never to expect to happen.  And I have been blessed this way twice.

How I hate being told what I can and cannot do, or what I will or will not do.

Just as I had been advised that I may not see parenthood, in April of 2008, my daughters almost lost their father.  One of the late side effects from my treatments had crept on me, up until the point I had been diagnosed with a “widow maker” level heart blockage.  I had emergency open heart surgery to save my life within thirty-six hours.

This was the time period that would change my life forever.  It was discovered that I had damage from my radiation and chemotherapies from back in 1990.  And it was likely there would be more.  The problem was that even in 2008, there were hardly any doctors that knew about these issues and how to handle them.  And then…

I would meet the doctor that would change everything.  He was my needle in a haystack, having been found several hours away at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan.  This doctor, and all who work with him, specialize in the late developing side effects from treatments.  At the point I met him, he had already been researching this issue for over three decades.  I found the best doctor for these issues I possibly could have.

Together, he reviewed what he could of my health history, as half of it had been destroyed by fire (according to my former oncologist – fancy way of saying they incinerated my records).  He assembled a plan to research all potential issues, some based on what he confirmed with my remaining records, and then assumptions for conditions he could not confirm from medical records, but rather common protocol back in 1990.

The bad news was, these issues are progressive.  As he explained to me, he cannot reverse what is happening to me, for any of the issues, and there are a lot, that would be discovered.  But he felt, he could help manage them, and even slow down the process by recommending certain therapies and changes in lifestyle.  And then he hit me with this,

“My job, is to help you see you children grow up, graduate from high school, and college (if they chose, and I hope they did want to), possibly get married, and perhaps, give me grandchildren.”

As my children were of the ages of two and four at the time, becoming a grandfather was definitely the last thing that I thought possible.  To go that far, would mean that I would have to have survived my cancer at least another twenty or thirty years.  I just could not get my head around that concept.  But I liked his thinking.

Each milestone I would reach in my survivorship, I convinced myself that my doctor not only knew what he was talking about, but I was definitely going to get to see that time period in my life.  And it will be great when that happens.

I would face even more health hurdles along the way, defying the efforts to help me reach my goal of becoming a grandfather, waiting to see what my new title would become… Pappy?  Poppop?  Grandpop?

Two battles with septic aspiration pneumonia.  Another heart surgery.  And most recently, a surgery to one of my carotid arteries, blocked severely enough to risk a stroke.

It was one thing to be told, I would likely not become a father.  It is totally another to face opportunities that would strip me of the most important loves of my life, my daughters.

Soon, my older daughter will turn 18, and my younger daughter, not far behind.  Together with my doctors, I am going to achieve that goal.  So, it may be an odd number to recognize for an annual anniversary, but my daughter turning 18 in my 31st year as a survivor of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is a pretty big deal.

 

 

 

Posted in Adoption, Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Politics, Recreation, Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment

Post Navigation

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →