Can You Keep a Secret? (25 page)

It upset me to get the brush-off, mainly because I knew perfectly well that the reason Colby didn’t want to get intimate was because of HER. He was thinking about HER and didn’t want to cheat on HER. And maybe he’d even promised her that he wouldn’t sleep with me anymore – and believe me, he wouldn’t be lying. Anyway, I said, ‘We can’t go on like this, Colby. Our sex life is practically non-existent.’ But he was already asleep, or pretending to be.

The time without Benjamin ended up going quite quickly. We saw him again pretty much straight after breakfast the next day. I’d like to say that we had a happy reunion, but who would I be kidding??? Anyway, we met up in a cabin, which was basically empty because all the furniture had been removed, except for a padded chair for the first Samantha, the chubby one, who we’d met the day before. Some of you might already know this, but
Samantha doesn’t actually look in person like she does on the website. On the website, she looks very glamorous. In the flesh, she had no neck and fat feet, and she was just not as groomed as she makes herself appear. There was another woman standing beside her – the second Samantha! – who was kind of scrawny-looking.

The first Samantha explained what would happen: Colby and I, and then Benjamin, had to kneel on a queen-size bedsheet that they’d laid out on the floor. Then we – meaning, Colby and I – were supposed to wrap him up.

The first Samantha said something like: ‘Here at Sam’s Happy Camp we believe that birth is traumatic, and we all experience trauma at birth, and the trauma is healed when our mother gazes into our eyes. When children are adopted, they don’t get the healing. And when children go into an orphanage, they lose whatever bonds they ever had with their mother. What we’re going to do today is help Benjamin create a new bond with you, Caitlin – a birth bond – because you are now his mom.’

The thinner Samantha nodded, and said, ‘The birth bond.’

The idea, as I said, was to wrap Benjamin in the sheet, so tightly that he couldn’t move. I’d then take him on my lap and stare into his eyes. That’s what new mums do with their babies, and apparently the gazing between mother and child is critically important. I don’t doubt it, but getting Benjamin swaddled up and resting on my lap would be more easily said than done.

The fatter Samantha pointed at Colby and said, ‘I’d like you to do the swaddling. Wrap Benjamin as tightly as you can and place him on your wife’s lap.’

As I say, easier said than done, but we gave it a go. Colby grabbed Benjamin – he had to do it quickly, because the only way to get hold of him is by surprise – and Benjamin kicked and wailed as Colby tried to get him to lie down on the sheet. Fat Samantha refused to help, saying, ‘You are his new parents! You must get him under control!’

We battled on, with Colby shuffling on his knees to where Benjamin was trying to hide, near the wall, and dragging him back onto the sheet, so we could hold him down together and roll him, tight as a sausage roll.

‘That’s it!’ shouted the fatter Samantha. ‘You’ve got it. Now you put him on Mommy’s lap.’ I sat cross-legged on the floor. Colby picked up the mummified Benjamin – we had swaddled him with his arms by his sides, so only his furious head was visible above the sheet – and lay him on my lap.

‘Now, you stare into his eyes,’ said the fatter Samantha. ‘Let’s create those bonds of birth.’

‘The bonds of birth,’ agreed the thinner Samantha.

Again, easier said than done. Benjamin knew perfectly well what was expected of him so he screwed his eyes shut.

‘You stare him down!’ barked the thinner Samantha. ‘Peel those eyes open if you have to!’

Colby reached over and tried to open Benjamin’s eyes with his fingers, but he snapped them straight closed. He was not struggling in the sheet, which Colby counted as a blessing. We persevered for a while, but it wasn’t going to work. Benjamin couldn’t be forced to focus on me anymore than he could be forced to fly to the moon.

‘Alright,’ said the fatter Samantha. ‘We are going to need some tougher love.’

And so, yes, we moved onto what they call holding therapy. And, yes, I’m reluctant to admit that we did it. I realise not everyone approves. It can be traumatic.

For those who don’t know, holding therapy involves restraining the child – making it difficult for them to move, and even to breathe – until they beg for assistance. It’s supposed to send your child into such distress that they will turn to you for help. It’s supposed to build trust.

There are risks involved – you can end up doing far more harm than good – but I didn’t think we had much choice. The first stage is called ‘the confrontation’. I was supposed to sit opposite Benjamin, making eye contact with him. That alone was a challenge, but apparently that’s okay because the second stage is called ‘the rejection’, and that is where Benjamin would actively avoid looking at me.

He never looks at me, so we got to the second stage pretty quickly. We reach that stage every day.

The third stage is called ‘the resolution’, and that is where the pressure comes in.

All four of us in the room – Colby and I, plus the fat and the thin Samantha – were supposed to pile on top of Benjamin, until he begged to be let up. He was still mummified, and stiff as a board in the sheet. We had pillows that we put on top of him, and then we all lay down over different parts of his body, so only his head could be seen.

The idea was for him to eventually surrender, and then I’d be able to step in and start building up new trust with him by comforting him.

I realise it sounds cruel, but the two Samanthas insist that there have been cases where it’s worked: an adopted girl who screamed and
fought to be let up, who eventually went limp and started sobbing, who now has a wonderful relationship with her adopted mum.

So, the four of us lay over different parts of Benjamin. I was lying, chest down, over his middle section, and Colby lay on one side so he couldn’t roll. The two Samanthas lay over his legs, so Benjamin was pretty much covered over by all of us, except for his head.

I don’t think the two Samanthas expected him to be as strong as he is. Benjamin’s not a big kid, but he started thrashing like a shark. I wasn’t sure how long we’d be able to hold him, but then he actually settled down quite quickly, which defeated the purpose, obviously. We were meant to be causing distress, so the fatter Samantha told me to get up and straddle him. I was supposed to take enough of my weight to allow Benjamin to breathe, but also get him thinking that he might suffocate, so he would start to panic and gasp for air.

It’s once they start to panic that you can build up trust.

Benjamin was struggling to free himself. I was doing what the Samanthas told me to do, saying, ‘You can fight all you want, Benjamin, but I’m in charge.’ I had to say that over and over again. I’m in charge. I’m in charge. All this fighting against me – it’s pointless, because I’m in charge, so you might as well give up. But Benjamin wasn’t struggling, not even to breathe.

We changed tack. I was supposed to whisper, ‘I love you, Benjamin, and I want to be your mom. Let me love you, Benjamin.’

No response. The two Samanthas were perplexed. They kept saying he would soon start panicking and vomiting, and he’d give in. The thinner Samantha kept saying, ‘You’re in your mom’s belly, Benjamin, and you need to come out. You need to let her become
your mom. You need to give up fighting, and be born to your mom, and let her take care of you on the outside world.’

In the end, though, it was me who gave up. I released the pressure on Benjamin because I could see – even if they couldn’t – that Benjamin would rather die than give in to me. He would have let himself suffocate before he would have asked for my help to breathe. I gave in when Benjamin’s eyes rolled back in his head. They took that to mean that he was close to surrender. I was pretty sure that he was close to
death.
Next came the strong smell of urine. I was supposed to have my eyes locked on Benjamin’s scarlet, furious face, but I looked over my shoulder and there was a wet patch over his shorts.

He had lost control of his bladder. Before long, he’d have lost control of his bowel. He was letting go of all his bodily functions, and to me, it was obvious: he’d just as happily let go of his life.

So I got up.

The fatter Samantha cursed me for it.

‘Can’t you see what you’ve done?’ she howled. ‘Now he will be more powerful than ever!’

I really resented her for saying that. Benjamin already has all the power over me – and I must say, it was those words that I remembered after we’d left Sam’s Happy Camp, dropped off our rig, and pulled into the driveway of our house. Benjamin had barely eaten on the road back. He should have been weak. But when Colby tried to carry him through the front door, he became like one of those lizards with suction cups, trying to connect his feet and his knees and his elbows to the door jambs, resisting all of Colby’s attempts to get him inside.

Round and round in my head, I could hear Samantha’s voice:
‘Can’t you see what you’ve done? Now he’s more powerful than ever!’

I also remembered what the scrawny Samantha had said, just as we were leaving.

She’d squatted down next to Benjamin as if she was going to say goodbye, but what she actually did was take Benjamin by the chin so she could look him in the eyes, and say, ‘Do you think your parents are scared of you, Benjamin?’

I was stunned to see him smirk – but I was absolutely floored when he answered her. Benjamin never talks! He screams. Okay, he says no, no, no, and ‘No, I won’t’ and things like that, but on this occasion, there was no screaming. He just said, ‘Yes.’

Samantha nodded in a grim way, like she knew that would be his answer. She said, ‘And does that make you happy, Benjamin?’ And once again, he said, ‘Yes.’

Comment (1):

Dear Caitlin, you don’t know me but I know Sam’s Happy Camp, and had I known that you were headed there, I would have told you not to go. They are snake-oil salesmen and I heard a story about a girl who died trying to force her way out of the swaddling with the two Samanthas sitting on top of her. You’re lucky to have been thrown out, believe me.

Comment (2):

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, you are a warrior for your son, Caitlin. Your determination to get help for him is an inspiration to all of us. I know it’s hard but the way you keep going is amazing.

Comment (3):

I don’t want this to come out the wrong way but I’m so glad you gave those therapies a try because now I don’t have to! I had been thinking about attachment therapy and even holding therapy, but now I think we’ll battle on without it! Stay strong, Caitlin.

The (Alternative) Book of Benjamin

Well, this is it.

The title of this post is ‘Even The Strong Sometimes Give In’.

I have given in.

No, really.

I don’t actually think that I have a choice anymore. I know that sounds negative, but I have started to think about ending everything. I don’t mean the marriage. My marriage is essentially over anyway. My husband has a lover. I haven’t confronted him about it – what would be the point other than to give him an excuse to leave? – but I’m pretty sure that he knows that I know, because we now have separate rooms.

We never communicate during the day anymore. That’s actually not a big change, because even when we first started going out he used to tell me not to call him at work because he’s so hard to catch.

He wasn’t hard for the Other Woman to catch!

We’ve stopped making plans for the future. What am I talking about?! We’ve stopped making plans for next week! We don’t say things like, ‘When we go on holidays …’

We don’t think, ‘It might be nice to plan a day trip here or there …’

We barely get through the weekends together.

I know I shouldn’t blame Benjamin. He’s just a little boy. I should blame Colby. He’s the one having the affair. But it’s hard not to blame Benjamin when I know that he’s the reason that my husband is cheating on me. Colby wants to escape from the hell that our life has become. And since he can’t exactly get rid of Benjamin, he’s trying to get rid of me. Not that he wouldn’t get rid of Benjamin if he could. He absolutely would! He would get rid of Benjamin in a heartbeat. Don’t be shocked, but he actually told me so last night.

‘We can’t keep him anymore.’

That’s what he said.

‘We can’t live like this. Benjamin has to go.’

I wasn’t that shocked because, to be honest, he’s been saying things like that for several weeks. The difference is, when he started out saying them it was in a jokey voice. Like, Benjamin might have been thrashing around and he’d say, ‘I wonder if we can send him back!’

This time it was more, ‘You really have to address this problem.’

Notice he says ‘you’ not ‘we’.

‘This is your problem,’ he said. ‘You have to solve it. I can’t help anymore.’

I told him to stop. Because really, what does he expect me to do? The fact of the matter is, we’re stuck with Benjamin. It’s not like we can take him back. I know there are some people who do that –
fantasise about putting their adopted children back on the plane – but you can end up in jail. And I know there are some people who just take their adopted children to welfare and say, ‘Sorry, we made a mistake. We can’t take care of this child and you are going to have to find a foster family for them.’

There’s also a thing called ‘re-adoption’ – where a child is adopted and it doesn’t work out, and the child has to go somewhere else. I don’t want to shock anyone, but I have considered that. I have thought that maybe the problem is me and maybe Benjamin would bond with another mum, who isn’t me, but I was never sure that I would actually be able to go through with it, and give him up.

Then last night Colby put his cards on the table, and said, ‘I don’t think I can do this anymore, Caitlin.’

I replied, ‘What do you mean, you don’t think you can do this anymore?’

My heart was sinking because I was thinking, ‘Okay, this is the bit where he admits he’s fallen in love with somebody else. This is the bit where he says that he doesn’t want to be married anymore.’

But that wasn’t where Colby was going. What he actually said was, ‘I am actually serious about putting an end to this. I mean, we need to do something about Benjamin! About the impact he has on our lives. I’m not saying he has to go back to Russia. But we’re not coping and maybe he’d be better off with different parents.’

Of course I said, ‘No. Benjamin is family. He is my son and I don’t want to hear another word about getting rid of him like he’s a stray dog. Have you forgotten how much we wanted him? How we went to the orphanage and picked him up? How we arranged his citizenship, and his passport, and his birth certificate – the one that says he’s your son?’

Colby said, ‘Caitlin, please. I’m at the end of my patience.’

I said, ‘You’re at the end of your patience? That’s your approach to parenthood? You take it on, and when you get frustrated, you say, I’m at the end of my patience? Would you feel that way if Benjamin wasn’t adopted? What if Benjamin was our son by birth and things weren’t going well? You wouldn’t be able to throw him out with the bathwater then, would you?’

‘Well, isn’t that the point?’ replied Colby. ‘Of course we wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t gone and picked him up. You’re not seriously trying to tell me it would have happened if we’d had a child of our own. It just wouldn’t.’

‘Why wouldn’t it? There are no guarantees.’

‘I
guarantee
you that we would not be in this position,’ said Colby. ‘We are in this position because we adopted this child. And now I’m thinking that was a bad idea. Don’t tell me you’re not thinking it’s a bad idea.’

I tried to object. I said, ‘Of course I’m not.’

Colby must have been furious because he really lashed out at me, saying, ‘Caitlin, you’re a liar.’

I couldn’t help myself. I said, ‘You’re calling
me
a liar?’

He must have known what I was getting at, but he didn’t bite. He said, ‘Of course you’re lying. This isn’t what we signed up for, and you know it.’

I said, ‘So, you wish you hadn’t done it?’

‘Of course I wish I hadn’t done it! And you do, too.’

Just so you know, Colby’s not completely heartless. He was crying when he said it. He said, ‘Why don’t we think about returning Benjamin to the place where he was happiest? Back to the
orphanage. He doesn’t have to go alone. I’ll go with him. I’ll call the orphanage. I’ll tell them that it hasn’t worked out.’

I was so angry I stormed out. But then I got to thinking, ‘Maybe sending Benjamin back to the orphanage would be the kindest thing. No matter what we do, he hates us. He doesn’t want to live here. He wants to go home.’

So that’s what I mean when I say I’m thinking about just ending everything. We can end this adoption. We can send Benjamin back. I know it’s radical. And I can still remember how I felt when I was making that first Book of Benjamin, about the boy who needed a home. It feels wrong to give in, to say, ‘It’s all too hard.’ Of course it’s hard! We were warned that it would be hard. And part of me can’t give up the idea that if I give Benjamin all the love and attention he needs, one day he’ll come around. So, big question: what do you guys think? Is Colby being horrible? Or am I living in la-la land, thinking that things will eventually get better?

Please help. Please tell me what you think.

Comment (1):

I cannot believe what I am reading! How can you take a child into your home and then consider sending him back? Children are not toys! They aren’t like broken Christmas presents! You don’t get a money-back guarantee!’

Comment (2):

We sympathize with you, Caitlin. Like you, we went into adoption with open hearts, but I will admit that we did not have our eyes wide open! Like you, we thought that with enough love, and with
enough patience, and guidance from prayer, and help from the extended family, the school and our community, we could turn our son’s life around, but it’s been much harder than I ever imagined it would be. We simply cannot connect with him, no matter how hard we try, and I believe that we should be able to stand up and warn other parents who are thinking of adopting a child from Russia, or from any orphanage anywhere, that the children are not like American children. They’re damaged, and if they have been in the orphanage for longer than a few years it’s going to be very, very difficult, if not impossible, to turn around the damage that has been done.

Comment (3):

I cannot believe that your husband would even think such a thing as to send your son – YOUR SON – back to the orphanage just because it has turned out harder than you thought. What would you do if it was your own – i.e. biological – son that had challenging behaviors or was disabled or whatever???? You wouldn’t be able to send him back so I suppose you would be the kind of people who would just put him in an institution???? Or would you have him put down like a dog????? You adopted Benjamin. He is YOUR SON and YOUR problem and you cannot take him back like a shirt that shrunk in the wash!!!!

Comment (4):

Did you ever wonder if this is karma? Maybe the reason you couldn’t have a child of your own was because neither of you are capable of being a parent. To be honest, reading your post made me
sick. You should give up your son to a couple who would be desperate to have a child. It’s clear that you don’t deserve Benjamin and Benjamin deserves better than you!!!

Comment (5):

Caitlin! I don’t want to get involved in this drama, but it seems to me that you have allowed your husband to twist your thinking! You would never have said something like this before. You have to get out of there. I would be very, very worried. Even if he isn’t actually threatening to hurt him physically, he’s talking about getting rid of Benjamin, and that sounds dangerous to me! Save yourself and save Benjamin and get out of there as fast as you can!!!