The Mysterious Disappearance of Rebecca Briggs

Over the last several weeks I've thought up a lot of different titles for this post. The above title was one of them. "Five Weeks with Hades" and "To H--- and Back in 30 Days" were also among my favorites. I figured they were also a bit extreme and way too negative. ;)

All jokes aside, this title fits the best. For five weeks I completely disappeared. I dropped off social media. I holed myself away in my home, unless absolutely necessary. I became a person I didn't even know existed. And I've emerged somewhat scarred and unsure, but hopefully a little wiser.... maybe.

I know, I know. This is supposed to be a blog about my health journey... and it is, but it's also about facing trials and getting stronger in all areas of our life. In recent years, my biggest trial has been my battle with my weight, and it continues to be, but my husband and I made the decision to take on something that ended up being one of the biggest trials - though short - that we've ever faced. It turned our entire world upside down and derailed every last one of our goals.

You can take as many classes, read as many books and talk to as many experienced people as you want, but nothing - and I mean NOTHING - can truly prepare you for foster care. Now, I'll be the first to admit that we did a lot wrong when we made decision to take in our first placement. We should never have jumped into a sibling group of four with five of our own still at home, especially with no prior experience. All I can say for myself is that I was suffering from the delusion that I had the ability to be Super Mom.

Don't worry. That bubble has been popped.

I won't waste your time and go into every detail of what happened, but I will say this. Foster kids are hard. (Duh!) Each comes with their own special set of difficulties due to so many different things - upbringing, drug addiction at birth, abuse, special needs, etc. Though ours may not have struggled with all of these things, they were no exception. We had kids with disorders and special needs that we knew nothing about before we accepted the placement. We dealt with oppositional defiance for the first time. We became aware that reoccurring nightmares were common among foster kids. We found out that due to the living conditions in a group home, illness runs rampant through their halls, and, in the case of one of our little ones, it was harrowing. Our household of 11 spent 4 out of the 5 weeks they were with us fighting illness, including pneumonia.

With illness, multiple doctor appointments and just plain old being overwhelmed, it's no wonder I dropped off the face of the earth, but I disappeared in other ways as well. My poor husband began to wonder who he married. I got severe post-placement depression. I cried every day, multiple times a day. In all honesty, I had multiple hysterical episodes. Once I got passed that stage, I became despondent. I had a hard time caring enough about anything to do anything for myself or anyone else. Finally, I became frustrated. I couldn't keep up with the demands and drama of four foster kids, our house, spend time with my kids/husband and do anything to reach my goals. Something had to give. Thankfully by this point, things were in motion and a plan was forming to reunite our little band with their father.

So, how did this affect my health goals? Well, frankly, it blew them out of the water. I tried to stick with it for the first week and a half, but I was never able to finish eating a healthy meal once I had it made because there was some catastrophe or another. Eventually I became too tired or depressed to eat. I lost 10 pounds in 10 days or less. I became worried that my body would go into starvation mode because I was only getting a few hundred calories a day, so I made a conscious decision to eat fattier foods until things calmed down to keep my calorie count higher. Problem was, I lost control. I started eating sugar again. Chocolate became my way to make it through another day. By the time we dropped them off at home, I suspected I'd gained every ounce back that I'd worked so hard to lose. I weighed in today and, thankfully, I've only gained back the 10 pounds I lost during that first week of our little adventure.

What now? Well, now I pick up the pieces and start again. Yesterday I spent a little longer and worked a little harder at the gym. (And, by the way, the whole personal trainer thing worked. It is the ONLY reason I kept exercising at all, little though it may have been.) Today I start tracking what I eat and I'm going to stay away from sugar, with the exception of my two pieces of dark chocolate if I stick with it until the end of the day. As soon as I have a chance to put a grocery list together and head to the store, I'll start up my macro counting again. Little by little I'm getting back on track.

After all is said and done, I don't know that my family and I came out of this trial stronger. (Because it was a family trial, not just mine.) That still remains to be seen. What the future holds in our fostering adventure also remains to be seen. What I can say is that we've learned a lot. Our sheltered eyes have been opened. We understand ourselves, our limitations and, hopefully, our strengths better. (Hey, I learned that I DO have the ability to stay calm in very chaotic circumstances! Lol!) And we've learned how truly blessed we are to have each other and the life we have.

Here's to a new start and whatever the future holds!