I am sorry for what you have been through and the situation you are dealing with now. We have similar stories, but I have not had the task of raising my grandchild from birth. That is an extremely difficult thing to do, but a blessing also.Your words have given me a bit more strength to deal with the current situation with my meth addicted 35 year old daughter. I can relate to almost everything you've said. I'm 57 and my husband is 64, and we are raising my daughter’s baby boy since birth. He's 2 1/2 now.
Oh my. I am glad he is in remission, but sorry for what you both must have endured. All while raising your grandchild. What strength you both have. I am on my own cancer journey and that was a wake up call to take more time to look after my own health needs.My husband is in remission from 3rd stage throat cancer.
Oh no. I walked this road Midst. My Tornado became pregnant while on the streets five years ago. We reconnected when she was forced into rehab (it was either jail, or rehab), then relapsed when baby was three months old. I got the call from the social worker on Mother’s Day, she wanted me to take in my daughter and grandson and I had to say no. It was the most heartbreaking ordeal, but it was the right choice. My grandbaby went to emergency foster care, then my youngest daughter stepped in to raise him. He is going to be four and is a joy, but also a challenge as he is somewhat affected by the drug exposure while inutero.I just found out from a "boyfriend " of hers that she's pregnant again. She's never told me, and she's about 7 months along. My heart is breaking because we simply can't take in this one for various reasons. I feel like I have explain and justify how I'm letting my future grandchild go into fostercare.
I’m hoping this would be an option for you. If that would be your preference.Since this child will be a sibling to your grandchild, the foster system may want to keep visitation between them as an option. And adoptive families are sometimes open to some type of contact with family members.
I hope that your visit with the therapist brought you some comfort. It is a difficult road we all travel, dealing with addicted love ones. We do have to make hard choices to ensure that we are healthy. It is not selfish, it is reality. There are good people out there who foster. They have the energy and wherewithal to care for a newborn.I'm doing what's right for my family. Today I am seeing a therapist for the 1st time in over 5 years that she's been out of my house and homeless.
Oh this is a hard one, Midst. I held my grandson as a newborn and loved him instantly. How I cried when I heard myself tell the social worker no. No. No, I can’t house my daughter, or care for my grandson. I had health issues, long covid and arthritis and knew that I would have to rely heavily on my granddaughter to help, which was unfair to her. I also knew that my daughter would not follow rules at home, and I was not going to go down that rabbit hole again. Oh, I am so sorry for what you are going through. I hope that your hubs and therapist are able to help you with whatever decision you make.I don't even know where to begin. I know that I'll be a wreck on the inside as the birth approaches. I'm debating whether I be there for the birth and hold the baby once, or if that will just hurt even more!
How well I know all the feelings that go hand in hand with this. I am still angry with my daughter for exposing my grandson to drugs while pregnant. For relapsing after his birth, for endangering him. He had no say. An innocent. Meth is a soul snatcher. I’m sure my two had mental health issues before meth, the drug just added to that. On top of that, the rabbit hole we all fall in to while trying to figure out how to live our own lives and draw the line between love and enabling. The work it takes to set boundaries and respond sanely in such bizarre circumstances.I go from crying to numb, to angry and disgusted with her. I love her in spite of how selfish and irresponsible she's been. She has absolutely no feelings for her son and has said that. She refused to hold him at birth. I'm really starting to think she's a physopath. She's had mental health issues before she got on meth.
New Leaf, Prayers for your daughter and for you. Biggest hugs.Aloha all,
I want to thank you again from the bottom of my heart for your kind words of encouragement and for inquiring on my well being. I am slowly healing and feeling a bit better health wise. A bit more energy each day. I have been working at my art here and there, since I am not physically able yet to get back to the full swing of gardening. It has been good to get back to painting.
I wanted to address your posts individually, but a recurring issue has arisen that has set my mind racing. The clock is ticking loudly as time slows to a near halt with unsettling circumstance. Yet again another crisis to deal with.
A few days ago I received a call from my eldest, Rain, who I have not heard from since she came to visit more than a month or so ago. She was coughing and short of breath, at a park, in a downpour. I heard myself telling her that she could come over and shower and rest at my house. I write it as such, because I have been pretty adamant through these years that she not stay with us, because of all of the issues that come along with loving a meth addicted adult child. There was something in her voice that struck at the core of me. You may recall that her last hospitalization a few months ago was pretty dire with a diagnosis of heart and kidney damage due to her lifestyle.
She called me on the 10th (was at the ER on the 5th, “treated for asthma, fluids in her lungs”, then released) and had not picked up medications due to hospital records and prescriptions being under her former married name, and her latest insurance being under her maiden name. So I have been trying to straighten that mess out, while observing that her cough was not any better and that she looked just awful. She did not want to go back to the ER, so I ended up going to the pharmacy and paid for her medications. Her sisters also pleaded with her to go and get rechecked, but she insisted that she was feeling okay.
Last night, she was extremely short of breath and I was able to get her to go back to the ER. Turns out, her blood pressure was super high (180/110) and the doctor came in and said “This is not asthma, it is her congestive heart failure and it is bad.”
So, they admitted her after a long night trying to stabilize her.
I am tired. I am numb and angry at the same time. I am mad at the doctor who “treated” her on the 5th then released her in such a terrible state, high blood pressure, fluid in her lungs and blood test indicators of heart damage. I am mad at my beautiful eldest daughter who has thrown her health away to street life for years. I am mad at myself for not being able to convince her earlier to go back to the ER.
She is not at the right hospital. It is the same women’s and children’s hospital my Hoku was at after her traumatic birth injury where a nurse revealed to me that “they don’t really have specialists for adults, only children.” But, the hospitalist this early morning felt that they could treat Rain. I urged them to transfer her to a hospital that has a heart specialist.
Sigh.
All the things swimming in my head. I know well the phrases that we parents have to learn to navigate the rough journey of living with the misery of beloved adult children addicted and estranged. “Didn’t cause it, can’t control it, can’t change it.” How empty those words feel in dire straights. How easily the “rescue mode” switch is toggled that can send one to the edge of the rabbit hole. So, I will have to remind myself of how many times in the past, the phone call, the visit, the contact, then no contact, have sent me into the swirly whirly of over thinking, over doing, over imagining all of the terrible consequences. But this is real. Again. It is not over imagining. I pray for a miracle, but know deep down that my daughter has been drawn even closer to her end by her addiction. Congestive heart failure and kidney disease. The doctor asked her about her meth use, it’s on her medical record. “When was the last time you used?” “About a week ago” she replied. “Each time you use, it damages your heart further.” It does not sink in. It has not scared her straight.
I have often said I don’t believe in rock bottom. My two have gone beyond that, by all accounts.
I will still hold on to hope. I have to. I will go and love on my daughter in the hospital. Again. For myself as much as for her. If she leaves this earthly realm, at least she will know that I love her still, always have and always will. If only love could save. If only the hands of time could turn back and rewrite the chapters of life’s book.
Prayers are needed.
It will be as it is, and I must deal with it.
God help us all.
Leaf
I see part of this as biological. We as mothers are conditioned to respond to the tapes with alarm, concern and well, the maternal instinct. So in this way we get it "right" and "wrong" at the same time. After all, Rain and my son and all the others are adults. So, what we do is we catch ourselves, that we are on the wrong tape.I feel as if I’m destined to keep reeling the tapes until I get it right? Am I stuck on “replay” until I react and respond differently?
Well. I identify with this a whole lot. I have trouble sometimes feeling and believing I have worth beyond my choices and limitations. I think value (as a soul) is what spirituality gives us. An off ramp from the life as we know it place, where everybody I've ever known screws up.Hopefully Rain will see that she has value and worth beyond the choices she has made.
Hi Copa,How are you New Leaf? I am thinking of you. Love, Copa
I don't know how come this above quote is here. It just showed up. If I am honest, it irritates me. Talk about futile. Nobody can turn back the hands of time. Not one of us, in reality, can live our dreams. (I am irritated too about so much of the Palisades fire narrative. The self-pity that they've lost their dream life.The entitlement. Let me get out my violin. I am in a bad mood. Love cannot save. Only work can save. All of us are in the rowboat (going round and round) with our oars of love, trying to save. It never ever works. End of rant.)If only love could save. If only the hands of time could turn back and rewrite the chapters of life’s book.
I am with your older sister in this. Not that you asked. Rain needs to be in supportive short-term housing for medically fragile people. I live in a small, backward California County. We have this. I am certain you guys have it. Rain will not work as long as she is with you. She will do as she is doing, which is sleep and leave her dirty dishes for you, and prowl the house in the night. Oh. It's not that i don't have empathy. I do. It just will not work for you or for her.I am hoping to be able to speak with the social worker on her case to find out more about housing options.
Hi Leaf, I was thinking of you today and wondering how you and Rain are. I hope you can help her get resources and like you said, with her medical issues they will become available more quickly. Take care of you, Hugs.Hi Copa,
I am……coping. Rain was released from the hospital and is back with me. She still has issues breathing, had a nephrologist appointment yesterday, has nothing but the clothes on her back. She told me that she has been clean for a while now as she is physically unable to smoke meth, it makes her breathing issues worse. She has 25% kidney function, 45% heart function and has been diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD)). She has a mountain of medications. I am going to call the social worker I’ve been in contact with who has her documents and try to help with getting her ID renewed. Rain said she was working with someone and has applied for housing but there is a waitlist. What is truthful, I don’t know.
She has absolutely no energy and sleeps most of the day. I have become a nurse and a maid. I get it, she is sick, but does need to move around to get the mucous out of her lungs. There are dishes every morning from her midnight kitchen forages, I’m sure it is novel to have access to food and water, shelter. Her demeanor is okay, but I sense that familiar air of entitlement that has me on edge. I am hoping to be able to speak with the social worker on her case to find out more about housing options.
She has been attending doctor appointments before this recent health issue, and that is good. She has a pcp appointment next week, and her insurance allows for scheduled taxi rides, so I will encourage that.
So, here I am part same old same old, part hopefully different? I couldn’t see her going back to the park in the condition she is in. I am hoping to find alternatives, like the medical shelter in town, because honestly her health issues are beyond my scope, and I have my own journey to battle.
My older sister will give me an earful, she knows the history and was quite adamant that Rain should not come here. But, it is my life, not hers. It is different than before, Rains drug test at the hospital was clean, and she seems to want to get better. I have to be careful, because she will use the heck out of me if I am not. Sigh.
Hopefully, there will be more help with available resources coupled with her health issues.
I have to admit, it is hard having her here, but would have been harder having her back out there in the rain.
Thank you for checking in.
Love and hugs
Weary and Wary Leaf