Benedictines still find moments of happiness in their homes. Sometimes they play Uno together. Sabrina is filled with enthusiasm when she shows her mother ballet moves or talks about upcoming vacations, her favorite food, or her day at school. Or they flip through photo albums, remembering a vacation on Assateague Island.
One afternoon last year, Sabrina sat at the kitchen counter, drawing an intricate blueprint of a house she imagined one of her teachers lived in. When Crystol got home, Sabrina ran to greet her. Then she plopped down on the sofa to wait for a massage. Her mother knelt beside her. Crystol pretends to make a pizza on her daughter’s back – knead the dough, spread the sauce and sprinkle with cheese.
But within an hour, Sabrina would be filled with frustration, disappointment, or an emotion she couldn’t name. She will stomp, hard. And started whining.
“You need help?” her father asked, his voice even, his eyes averted.
Amidst the wailing, Sabrina announced, “I’m crazy.” But she stifled her parents’ attempts to talk to her. “I hate you,” she said. “Go away!”
At such times, encourage your baby to inhale and exhale. “Smell the roses and blow out the candles,” she said. And her parents stood there, waiting for what would happen next.
When Crystol first saw Sabrina, sleeping in her crib at the hospital, she cried with happiness. It was July 2008. Unable to give birth on her own, she and Jeremy became adoptive parents and plan to adopt. They brought Sabrina home when she was just a day old.
They were undeterred by what the foster care agency told them: Sabrina’s biological father and mother were both mentally disabled, and the father had been arrested for sexual assault.
