The Right Thing To Do

It's been awhile since I've posted, mostly because between taking care of Chelsea and my escalating health problems, I just chose not to make time for blogging. Depression also played a role in my decision not to blog, I just couldn't deal with one more thing that needed done. I decided to come back today to let all of you know about some major changes that are taking place. Over the last few months I escalated my attempts to get some sort of help caring for Chelsea. My requests were always met with a negative response. It seems there truly is no help in the rural area I live in. I spoke with the local chapter of the Down Syndrome Association and, nope, nothing like that here. I called Job and Family Services, sorry, no help here. One evening, I sat down and really took a long, hard look at the situation. I had just come from the doctor, where I was informed that if I didn't do something about my stress level, I would soon have either a heart attack or stroke. Great advice, but how does one do that under these circumstances? That was the question I had to answer, and answer quickly. I looked at my struggling marriage, my 18 hour workday, my house that never gets clean anymore, and that sweet child who doesn't get the attention she deserves, and made a hard decision. I called Child Protective Services. To cut to the crux of this story, Chelsea is being placed in foster care. Her new foster mom is someone who is a special education teacher, a trusted friend and who Chelsea loves intensely. She will be living a block away from me. She will have a brand new set of bunk beds for sleepovers and a new wardrobe. She will be spending a week at the beach every summer. Sweet Chelsea is moving on to a new and wonderful life, the one she should have had from the day she was born. I have cried until I can cry no more, but I am comforted by the fact that no matter how hard it is to give her up, it is the right thing to do. After some time has passed, I think I can then start to put my own life back together, although I don't know what that life will be, I will manage, and I will know that Chelsea is safe and loved. For those of you who have been supportive and understanding throughout the time of this blog - you are good people and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support is so important to those who are struggling, and I know I'm not the only one. I was just one of the few willing to put my struggles out there for all to see. To those of you who were judgemental and full of condemnation, well, what goes around comes around; I wish you well. I may be back with updates on Chelsea's life, or I may not, but either way, I did the right thing.

Another day in paradise

I woke up to a beautiful morning this morning. The sun was streaming in through the window, a pleasant breeze bringing me the scent of fresh air. In my state of not being quite awake, I thought "What a nice morning, maybe we'll go have some breakfast somewhere." Then I woke up. Then I felt the sadness wash over me. I remembered that there are no more pleasant breakfasts with hubby at the local diner, no more mornings spent cuddling and enjoying the sunshine. No more mornings spent planning our future over coffee. This is our future, right here, right now. Do I regret giving up my future to insure that Chelsea has one? Not a bit. Do I desperately wish there was another solution? Absolutely. During the few short weeks my son had Chelsea, he signed her up on the group home waiting list in an adjoining county. The case worker told me that he told her point blank that he would not take care of her until she is 18. What a tragedy that this loving little girl is the subject of so much controversy, that her own father doesn't want to take care of her. It is the one thing that makes me ashamed of my son. I pray daily that some solution that is truly best for all, most of all Chelsea, will come to light. No matter what the cost, I will not abandon her or put her in a bad situation just because I want my life back. I will continue to love her, take care of her, and then cry in private for as long as it takes to find a solution. All of you who pray, please pray for us, for our family, for Chelsea. She deserves the best, and I am not capable of giving her more than mediocre, so please pray for something wonderful for her.

For those who don't know

I often get get comments pointing out how depressing my blog is at times. I am quite certain that many find it to be a "downer" when perhaps they were looking for something uplifting. I thought maybe this would be a good time to bring to light the reason we have Chelsea in the first place, for those who don't already know. Perhaps knowing how we came to be Chelsea's guardians will explain why our experience is so different from those who are parenting a Down's child by choice. It is a rather long story, but I will summarize it.

On July 13, 1999, Chelsea's baby sister was murdered by her mother and step-father. After much emotional trauma, dealings with Child Protective Services, and two murder trials, my son was given custody of Chelsea by the courts. He was a newlywed at the time, and the combination of the murder itself and having a disabled child placed in their lives with little warning caused their marriage to disintegrate and they divorced. My son tried valiantly to care for Chelsea on his own, but amidst his grief over his murdered child and his divorce, did not cope well. Chelsea was not thriving and learning as she had been before his wife left. In order to protect Chelsea and give her some kind of chance in the world, my husband and I agreed to take her until he could get his life in order. It has been years now, and he still cannot seem to cope with her. I understand this, because I can barely do so myself.

I had only been married about a year when Chelsea came, having been happy and enjoying my life for the first time in years. Being middle-aged and suddenly have a disabled child to care for does not lend itself to happiness. I had always looked forward to that time in life when my boys were on their own and I could once again get to know myself as something other than someones caregiver. One event, on July 13, has had such a ripple effect in all of our lives, but I cannot let go of the thought that Bethanie's murder not only ripped a part of my heart out forever, it also cost me my happiness. If you really take the time to think of the emotional dynamic that takes place every day as a result of these events, you may have a better understanding of why my blog is not all about the wonders and joys of a Down Syndrome child. I will love protect Chelsea until my last breath, but I can't help but mourn the lost years of my life, just when I had started to enjoy them. For more information about Bethanie and her murderers, see my blog "Never Another Child" http://neveranotherchild.blogspot.com/ Thanks for reading.

I really hate summer

Yes, this is one of my dark, depressing posts. Sorry, but this is where I vent, and hopefully get some encouragement. School is out for the summer, which means 24/7 Chelsea. It also means my hubby is too depressed to do anything around the house, which in turn means I work all day and then come home to clean up and take care of things, then start my data entry job. Every year I have trudged through the summer, but this one is different. I am sick. I am struggling to get through every day at work, and hoping I won't lose my job, but it is so hard to keep going when I feel like I do. I have to try to stay awake to do the online work at night in spite of meds that make me sleepy. Then there is the stress of wondering how this will all turn out. The doctor suspects MS, and if that is true, what will become of Chelsea? How ironic to have sacrificed so much of my life to keep her safe, only to have to send her somewhere else. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, folks, I really don't.