the back door

the first year or two was full of doctor’s appointments, blood draws, immunizations, testing for hiv, hepatitis, weekly social worker visits for me, twice-weekly play therapy visits for savannah, twice-weekly speech therapy appointments for savannah, weekly occupational therapy visits for savannah, multiple visits to children’s hospital for cystic fibrosis testing (negative) and communicable disease diagnoses (MRSA), buckling 3 children- ages 1,2, and 3- into car seats over and over, and hours and hours of being “stuck” with her not willing to answer my questions or communicate with me. 

it didn’t take long before i felt like my entire life revolved around savannah’s needs.

up until getting savannah, i had loved [nearly] every moment of being a mother.  i had never seen motherhood as a sacrifice before.  motherhood never seemed like work or service before.  i just did things because i had children and i loved them and things were necessary to do as a parent.  but, all of a sudden, i saw and felt how much hard work and sacrifice and selflessness mothering was.  i viewed every single need of savannah’s as a personal sacrifice for me.  raising a family suddenly seemed super expensive and it seemed savannah was an even bigger financial burden.  things i hadn’t even considered as a sacrifice of my time and energy before suddenly were taxing and annoying to me.  and completely infuriating when they went unappreciated.  even the simple and necessary task of changing a diaper or feeding her seemed too much to ask of me at times. 

i promised myself that i would never allow savannah to interfere with how i parented my other children, particularly ray since he was a baby and had greater needs than everyone else at the time.  i went so far out of my way to NOT let savannah interfere with my family that she very rarely got anything out of me.  and the little i was willing to give was given with a negative attitude. 

you can imagine how much happiness that brought me (insert sarcmark):  to do everything begrudgingly.  it’s like i was stuck with a teenage mentality:  feeling like i’m being forced to do something, the actual reason secondary to how i feel about how much of an imposition it is on my life.  basically doing a[n intentionally?] poor job with a bad attitude just to make sure everybody knew i wasn’t happy about what was being asked of me. 

what was always playing over and over in the back of my head was that i didn’t have to do this.  she wasn’t my child.  i could technically give her back whenever i felt i’d had enough.  and having that back door, for me, was the source of a lot of misery.  i regret that i didn’t slam that door shut and love her unconditionally right from the start.  with my own children, i had no choice.  i HAD to love them because i couldn’t give them back.  i never even gave it a second thought when parenting one of them required a little something extra on my part.  because this is what i signed up for:  to parent them.  but with savannah, the back door was always wide open, taunting me.  i never had to really commit myself or my heart to her because she could be taken from me at any time just as easily as i could decide to stop parenting her at any time. 

and there was an actual time in year four where i was pretty sure i was done.  i didn’t think i could do it anymore.  and i begged damon to let this trial be over with before it destroyed me and my family. 

as always, damon calmly listened to me.  and then told me what he always told me when i had a “savannah breakdown”.