Not Exactly As Planned: A Memoir of Adoption, Secrets and Abiding Love
Author
Linda Rosenbaum
Author Bio
Linda Rosenbaum is an award winning writer, has worked in TV and documentary films, and is actively involved with groups advocating on behalf of children with developmental disabilities and other special needs. The epilogue to her memoir, Not Exactly As Planned, about raising her son Michael, won the 2013 Reader’s Choice award in the Canada Writes literary contest for creative non-fiction. Linda lives on Toronto island where she raised her family. lindarosenbaum.com
Description
Not Exactly as Planned is a captivating, deeply moving account of adoption and the unexpected challenges of raising a child with fetal alcohol syndrome. Rosenbaum writes with insight and clarity about her determination to change Michael’s prognosis, while weaving in the everyday aspects of life: birdwatching, bar mitzvahs, saving the Toronto Islands, the collision of ‘60s idealism with the real world, and family secrets. With compassion and humour, she tells a story about acceptance that is achingly unique yet universal to all parents.
Not Exactly as Planned is a powerful story filled with a wisdom and humility that can teach us all something about family, life and love. Despite the difficulties raising her adopted son with FASD, Rosenbaum’s book is filled with a zestful happiness that will touch everyone who reads it. I couldn’t put it down.”
—Bonnie Buxton, Co-founder of FASworld and author of Damaged Angels
“Fetal alcohol spectrum disorder affects an estimated one percent of all children born in North America. Yet, despite being the most common cause of developmental disability, most people are unaware of the ways it can alter the lives of its young victims and their families. Linda Rosenbaum’s book is a mesmerizing personal account of this epidemic. Her unique ability to capture the powerful affects of FASD and deliver it as a stellar narrative, makes it ‘a must read.’”
—Gideon Koren, MD, Professor and Director of The Motherisk Program, The Hospital for Sick Children and The University of Toronto, and Founder of Fetal Alcohol Canadian Expertise (FACE)
“Rosenbaum beautifully captures the joys and the challenges of being fully present, being fully Jewish, and being a global citizen of this crazy world, all with humour, depth and insight.”
—Rabbi Elyse Goldstein, City Shul, Toronto
Book excerpt
Wolf Howling at Moon
Toronto Island, 2013
I sit on the red ottoman by the fireplace, leaning towards the flame, rubbing my hands together to increase the warmth. Winters are cold on Toronto Island. I seldom sit still this time of year unless I make a fire.
I hear children laughing in the background. I know the sound should make me happy. It doesn’t. I’m tempted to cover my ears.
“Come here,” Robin says to me. “I’ve got one of us returning to the Island after bringing Michael home from the hospital. . .and his fifth birthday party. . .the kids digging up the dinosaur bones. . .”
My husband is nearby, transferring old videos of the children to DVDs. I’ve been listening to the sounds, of good times, all morning.
An abrupt cut in the soundtrack. I hear a clarinet. Unmistakably Klezmer. Michael’s bar mitzvah.
“I’m good,” I say to Robin, using the expression our twenty-three-year-old daughter Sarah recently taught me to replace “no.” Robin laughs hearing me say it, but I can tell he’s not sure why.
I lie. “I’m happy sitting over here for now. I’ll come look at the videos later.” I know he doesn’t get it. I don’t want to see the videos. Too bittersweet.
I don’t need to see the videos to remind me of the sunny day in May when we brought our first child home from the hospital. And I can still picture Michael’s birthday party, five years later, in the grassy fields of a nearby meadow. For our Treasure Island theme, Robin and I had given Michael and neighbouring children yellowing maps left behind by once-roaming pirates. Hand-drawn sketches led them to buried gold doubloons, and to “dinosaur” bones bought cityside from a butcher at St. Lawrence Market.
Then the diagnosis, the following year, 1993. Michael was six.
In the nineteen years since learning Michael had fetal alcohol syndrome, we’ve tried our best. Michael, now twenty-five, has become a lovely, soft-spoken young man, kind of heart. Also a school dropout, unable to keep a job or function in the world without helping hands. He lives in a group home during the week, with us on weekends.
“Mum, I want to show you my new carving,” says Michael. He has come out of his bedroom to join me by the fire. “I’m starting an owl, in the round.”
Five years ago, Robin signed Michael and himself up for woodcarving classes.
“Maybe this will be it,” Robin and I continually said to one another before each attempt to help Michael find something of interest, to build confidence, bring a little joy.
After one year of classes, his large bas-relief Wolf Howling at Moon, carved from a thick piece of basswood, was finished. Third Place, Canadian Woodcarving Competition, Novice Category. The next year, Pike Swimming Through Waves, Third Place, Ontario Woodcarving Championships. This year, Bear Upstream with Salmon, Second Place, Ontario Woodcarving Championships.
I walk with Michael to his bedroom. What I see is a chunky block of wood clamped to his desk, a few edges chipped away. Yet, similar to Michaelangelo who saw the Pietà within a block of Carrara marble, I know that when Michael looks at his piece of wood, his heart, hands, and eyes are envisioning an owl within, wings spanned, eyes fierce and glaring, waiting to take flight.
“I can’t wait to see what you’re going to do,” I tell Michael. Then, to my surprise, add, “How about taking a short break? Dad has some videos he’d like us to see.”
Genre Non-Fiction
Author Website
http://www.lindarosenbaum.com/
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Not Exactly As Planned: A Memoir of Adoption, Secrets and Abiding Love
