Battling Mom Guilt When Parenting Children With Early Childhood Trauma

Mom guilt, we are all familiar with the pressure's we take on from what society says makes a, "good mom." I have several children who, due to early childhood trauma and other life shaping experiences, seem to have a knack for making me look and feel like a bad mom. All the usual, "good mom" things cause my children to rise up like a wild animal caught in a trap. Make them their favorite pancakes and they, accidently on purpose, pour the whole bottle of syrup onto their pancakes. I won't go into the why's and wherefore's of these actions, those of you walking the journey are already familiar with them and don't need to waste your time reading another explanation. Buy your son a new coat, and suddenly it is no longer cool to be seen wearing a coat in public. He would rather stand in the cold and shiver, and you were trying to be a good mom by buying him that coat! You thought for once you could do something to make him happy. This behaviour plays havoc with our minds because society is saying in order to be a good mom, you need to spend time with your child, you need to buy them nice, acceptable clothing, you need to show them how much you love them so they will love you back, if you let them fight their own battles they will feel abandoned. The list is long and can flip flop at a moments notice.

Those of us who have children with early childhood trauma and/or prenatal exposure can find ourselves in a bind. Doing all the good mom stuff, drives your child away. They fight it tooth and nail and the kind social worker comes and says, "Here is the latest psychology book, I am sure it will give you some tips." You read it, follow the suggestions, and your child becomes even worse. Social Worker says, "Maybe you aren't trying hard enough. If you would consistently follow the guidelines in the book, I am sure they would work." And guess what comes creeping in? Mom guilt. "I must be a bad mom if I can't make my child behave using this book. After all, the author is a well known child pyschologist. 

Your friend drops by on her way home from her latest shopping trip and shows you the new shoes she bought for her son. "I find if I buy expensive, brand name shoes my son takes better care of them," she says. You remember the shoes you bought for your son, brand name at that, and in your minds eye you can see the bits of rubber hanging from the soles. He always shreds his shoes, due to his sensory processing disorder, now you buy him $15 tennis shoes...and you feel guilty. Because maybe, somehow it is your fault that he ruins every pair of shoes you buy.

Your sister tells how you she stopped by the school and ate lunch with her daughter. "She was so pleased and excited to see me. It was a great way to build our relationship!" Your sister goes on to tell how neat it was to chat with her daughter's friends and the play date they have planned. Your sister turns to you and whispers, "You should try it sometime, I am sure your daughter would be thrilled, it would make her feels so special!" Your heart drops because your daughter cannot handle having mom drop by her school for lunch. She is still battling the loss of her birth mom and views you as the fake who is trying to take that spot in her heart.

These are just a few of the myriad ways in which we tend to take on guilt. We look at where our children are socially and emotionally, we see their peers pulling ahead and feel that somehow it must be our fault. Deep inside, we know better - after all, we understand brain damage, attachment disorders, how prenantal exposure wreaks havoc with the developing brain - but somehow, we still feel that we are to blame. As I was pondering this today, the words of a counselor came to mind, "Love your child in the way they need to be loved." For me, this quote brought great freedom. 

If my child needs to go to bed earlier than the rest of the family in order to be at his best the next day. Is it loving for me to keep him up until his siblings go to bed, just because they are younger than him?

If my son needs an alarm on his door to deter him from roaming the house, is it loving to say, "None of the other children have an alarm, it isn't fair that he should." Or is it more loving to put the alarm on his door and keep him safe?

One child shuts down if I confront her. Society says, "Teach her who is boss!" Is it more loving to be brash and demanding, or to hold her and coach her through the drama of wearing socks for school?

Parenting "our children" requires laying aside what society, or friends and family, may deem appropriate and doing what is best for our children. Sometimes, "doing what is best," looks an awful lot like being a passive mom, sometimes it means standing up to your child and not allowing him to triangulate the adults in the room, sometimes it means holding her during a church service even though she is almost to big to fit on your lap.

So if you sent your child to school in holey sweat pants and a top that has seen better days, because that is the only outfit he will wear, remind your self that he is warm, he is clean and best of all, he is comfortable, because the clothing doesn't scratch. Plus he feels safe because you didn't get upset with him about wearing less than acceptable clothing.

If you sent your daughter to school with foods that you feel are less than nutritious, but they are the only foods she will eat, remember, at least she is fed. You can fight the battle another day. Today you sent her off with a hug and a kiss. Her emotional health is as important as her physical health.

If your teen went out the door with uncombed hair and no breakfast because he wouldn't get up on time, congratulations, at least he made it to school.

Sometimes being a good mom, means doing the things that society tells you is bad parenting. Rather than give in to the monster of self condemnation remind yourself, "I am the mom, I know my child better than anyone out there. I will do what I can to help my child lead a successful life, but at the end of the day, it is his choice whether he will accept the help I offer." As my husband reminded me recently when I was frustrated with a child who refused my help and as a result was failing badly, "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink!" 

Go forth and be the mom you know your child needs, not the mom society says your child needs!

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School Update

School has been in session for a little over three months and while it hasn't been without its bumps and occasional teeth jarring moments, we all agree it is going better than we dared hope. 

I was terrified to send Joseph to school. The main reason had to do with his brains way of scrambling information; then when questioned, he can only remember bits and pieces so he fills in the gaps with what he considers logical answers. In the FASD world this is called confabulation. When Joseph tells a story we automatically take into consideration that his story will likely contain a few figments of his imagination. Over the years we have learned what questions to ask to get to what really happened. For instance he told me his teacher yelled at him because he wasn't finished with an assignment. I asked, "Did she yell like this," and raised my voice, "Or did she speak like this," and used a firm tone of voice. His reply, "It felt like she yelled, but she just told me that I need to pay attention." 

I was also concerned he would unknowingly make false allegations as this is something he does from time time when he misinterprets a situation. We discussed it with his teachers, per a mentors advice, and they seemed to understand our concerns which made me feel a little better. However, one still doesn't know how things will play out in a real life situation. We didn't have long to wait until we were presented with just such an opportunity.

Three weeks into the school year I got the phone call every parent dreads, but particularly those of us who have children with mental health disabilities, "There has been an incident, we need you to come to school asap. Joseph made a threat, but we won't be formally charging him as you warned us that this could happen.  However, we want Joseph, as well as his classmates, to know this is not acceptable behavior." To say my heart sank to my toes is an understatement. I was sure we had reached the end of the road and I would be back to homeschooling him. I called Dean and asked for advice on how to handle the situation depending how things went down, and then called my mom asking her to pray. Turns out, Joseph became frustrated with a teacher when she wouldn't let him keep talking during class, and in his frustration, he made a threat. The school handled it very well. I was once again amazed at how well they understood my son. We had a level headed discussion together and they made it clear to Joseph that under no circumstances was he to talk like that again. He was sincerely sorry and promised it wouldn't happen again. But I know my son, in the heat of the moment, he just doesn't think and I feared there would soon be a, "Next time." When I shared my concern, his teachers rose up to the plate and implemented techniques to keep him from escalating and with those tools in place there hasn't been another incident at school. The bus is another matter, but switching buses and having an aid sit by him, solved those problems as well. 

It means so much to have other adults come alongside us and brainstorm ways to help Joseph succeed. He comes home from school happy, calm and regulated, something that hasn't happened in years. Having him attend school and be successful has opened so many doors for him. It is also giving me the opportunity to do some physical and emotional healing from the past eleven years of chaos.  

Am I A Bad Parent?

Our adoption journey has given me the privilege of meeting and speaking with many parents. Due to our unique circumstances, it is often those parents who have children with FASD or those who's adoption's aren't working out, often due to safety issue's, with whom I have the privilege of sharing our story and hearing theirs in return.

There is one question I am asked every single time. Sometimes the person asks in a voice choked with tears, sometimes the question is laced with fear and sometimes the question is asked so quietly I can hardly decipher what was said. The question is this, "Am I a bad parent?" My heart hurts for these people because I am deeply familiar with that very pain. It is a question I often ask myself. On some level I know it isn't true, but on a deep fundamental level I can't help but believe that somehow my child's problem must be at least partly my fault. As parents we want to "fix" our children. We want them to be successful, to have the ability to make good choices without their trauma baggage weighing them down. We run ourselves ragged in an attempt to aid them on their healing journey, but sometimes healing doesn't come. At least not in the ways we had hoped and dreamed of when we looked into the future. When failure is more common than success, we as parents have a tendency to believe that somehow we must have failed.

We, like most families who began foster care over ten years ago when there was very little taught about trauma, believed that we could heal the hurts in the hearts of the little ones who came through our door. We somehow thought that love would be enough. How many times have you heard that quote? How many times have you heard, "Well if you would love them more," or "If you would love them the same as you love your other children," whatever that is supposed to mean, "They wouldn't have these problems" Somehow the world has gotten hung up on, "Love is enough," when it comes to helping hurting people. Folks, I am shouting from the roof top's, "LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH!!!" Anyway, 10 plus years ago we believed this from the bottom of our hearts. We didn't have trauma training, and the words, Reactive Attachment Disorder weren't even in our vocabulary. We tried to take hurting children and love them so much that they would just have to love us back. At the time the idea sounded logical, in hindsight it was anything but logical. You know how well that theory works, right? It doesn't. And so we began to flounder. What do you do with a child who is terrified of love, or feels he is unlovable? We didn't realize that such a thing was even possible, so I began to think, "It must be me. I must be a bad mom." And the seed grew and grew. That seed was watered daily with examples of why I was a bad mom. My child refused to do anything that I asked of him. As a preschooler, he would go hungry rather than eat the food I made, while happily chowing it down if someone else made the meal. How do you deal with that?

You think of the urine soaked floors in your house, the holes in the walls, the times you screamed into your pillow because you so desperately needed to release the pain building in your heart. The items found stashed behind your child's bed, the misunderstandings with her teacher, the fights your son was involved in because his brain damage means that he doesn't understand cause and effect. And then your mind goes on to think of how well your child can present in public. You think of the times your child raged and threatened you until you arrived at a friends house, whereupon the threats stopped and a smile appeared on his face. People greet your daughter with hugs and she accepts them, but when you try to hug her she either accepts the hugs but then turns around and destroys something that had sentimental value to you, or she grabs a handful of skin and pinches you as she hugs. And you think, "I must be a bad parent or my child wouldn't act this way."

You can't talk to anyone other than your child's therapist about the things that happen in your home because it sounds so absurd, and in public your child looks nothing like what you experience at home. If you do venture to speak up you hear one of three things:

 The ever famous, love them more

 Discipline more - he just needs a good spanking!

Don't worry, my child does that all the time.

You know loving more doesn't work for your child....although from those giving you the advice, it seemingly works for everyone else's child. So you internalize the idea that you must be a bad parent, because this is not working for your child. But we forget that the people offering this advice often have no experience with something that plays a huge part in your child's behavior: trauma. Our hurting children need love in mega doses, but love itself is not enough.

Discipline more. That is such a lovely thing to hear when you are at the end of your rope. When parenting children with trauma, brain damage and/or prenatal exposure, more discipline is rarely the answer. Consequences seldom have the desired affect and what those offering this bit of advice fail to understand is, our children have already gone through horrific circumstances, a consequence likely won't make one bit of difference. However we have learned to take advantage of natural consequences when applicable. If I tell my child not to slam the door and he does anyway and pinches his finger, there is a 50/50 chance he won't slam the door the next time. However, when you take the brain damage from prenatal exposure into consideration, it is anyone's guess if he will remember not to slam the door when he goes through it 5 minutes later. So you feel like you must be a bad parent because you can't get your child to stop slamming doors....or whatever behavior that you child is currently struggling with.

Don't worry, my child does that all the time. This one used to drive me crazy. One therapist explained it this way, "Yes, what your child is doing is typical. What is not typical is the length, severity and intensity of the action." All children have meltdowns, but typically not for hours at a time, over the most minor of circumstances. Even knowing this, it can leave you feeling like a bad parent because your child's actions are getting on your last nerve and according to your friend, this behavior is perfectly normal!

You feel guilty for resenting your child's behavior, this is trauma/brain damage based after all. Your child can't help how he is affected by his life experiences, and so you go back to the, "I must be a bad parent, because what kind of a parent would get so frustrated with their child?" The guilt we heap on ourselves is tremendous.

You feel like a bad parent when sitting in a new therapist's office and she asks for your child's strengths and your mind goes blank. You know your child has strength's but all your weary brain can remember is the pain and anguish of each and every day. 

And if you worst fears become reality and your child is no longer safe in your home and you know that due to circumstances unique to your family and situation, he never will be safe. Despite your best effort's you know cannot keep everyone safe 24/7. Decisions have to made, decisions you didn't even know were a possibility before you entered the world of trauma and prenatal exposure. Your heart breaks because you must be a bad parent if you can't keep your own children safe. This is the point where most parents crumble. This is not what you had in mind when you signed up for this journey. You wanted to aid in healing hearts, not causing more pain and hurt in the lives of your loved one's. All the guilt, pain, shame, trauma, distress and chaos of the years washes over you like a tidal wave and you wonder if there is hope for your loved ones. Failure looms big and black in your face, you feel condemned, judged and left to wither away in the face of this pain.

But remember you are not a failure!

-You kept your child safe to the best of your ability.

-You lay beside your child as he screamed out his inner torment, for which he had no words. Even though you couldn't make it better for him, you were there.

- You sought out one professional after the next, searching for help and healing for your child.

-You bore the brunt of deep emotional wounds, inflicted on their tender souls long before you came into the picture.

-You fought for them as long as you could. Even if your child has crossed that line, the line where she is no longer safe in your home and you need to look into other options; remember love means doing what is best for your child and the rest of the family, even if it tears your heart to shreds.

-You loved them with all you could, using your resources minimal though they may have been, you wore yourself out trying to be everything for your child and just because you were not enough, does not mean you are a bad parent!

Self Care, Healing & Parental PTSD

I have been mulling this post around in my mind for months trying to find the words to explain my struggle without making my children look bad, or making it sound as though I have completely lost my marbles. I hear other mom's share their panic and despair and I wonder why this topic isn't discussed more...the topic of PTSD in parent's, especially the primary caregiver of children with developmental trauma and/or brain damage.

PTSD is a lonely road, especially when your PTSD is caused by your children. Sweet little, (or not so little) children who have everyone wrapped around their finger. Children who have perfected the art of dividing and conquering the adults in their world, children who are so terrified of a relationship with their parents that they will sacrifice the family they have without realizing the cost. It is utterly terrifying to reside in this world. Nothing is sacred, nothing off limits when trauma is the driving force behind a child's behavior. How do you even begin to explain that to someone who hasn't walked this road? Is it even possible for them to fathom the fear that lies just below the surface?

PTSD is tiring. My brain becomes exhausted trying to keep everyone's trauma from bursting out of the carefully guarded fortress of what I perceived as a safe place. If I can keep Trauma under wraps, don't give it an opportunity to escape, perhaps our family will be safe from those outside our walls. My CPS trauma, (and I am working on that) has me terrified of anyone who has the authority to step in and tear down the supports I have so carefully put in place. I know it isn't healthy to monitor my child's every interaction with others, but the cost of not monitoring them is too high, I simply can't risk it. Too many years of too much micromanaging has only served to intensify my PTSD. I thought I was the only one who did this until I talked to other parent's who have been down the road of investigations, false accusations and deeply painful experiences with those who have the authority to remove a child, the very child for whom you have been burning the candle at both ends in hopes of finding help, sacrificing so much in an attempt to help him find healing. Guess what? We are in this together, we are all afraid because we know our children can't grasp the long term repercussions of  a threat made in the height of emotion.

Most of the training I have had up until recently, has focused on being available to your child at all times. When they rage, you must be a soft place for them to land, when they scream they need to hear quiet, gentle words in return, when they destroy things you quietly go about your business and don't make a scene. They need you to be the calm, unflappable adult who can take whatever is thrown at you. Unfortunately many children will simply up the ante until you have to take notice, until you have to intervene for everyone's safety at which time the child will turn on you scraming abuse. What kind of relationship does that bring to mind? In any other situation it would be classed as an abusive one, but when it involves our children with trauma histories it quickly becomes a gray area. After all the child is acting out in the only way he knows how and if they are to learn, then they must have someone model the correct way to react to the curve balls life throws. Unfortunately when trauma/brain damage is in the picture, curve balls can be, at the very least, an hourly occurrence. For some reason we fail to take into consideration that our brains can also be traumatized. Or perhaps that shows the great love we have for our children, we are willing to sacrifice ourselves in order for them to find healing. But I now think that concept is wrong. We have to first take care of ourselves. If you are shaking your head and saying, "I told you so!" I get it, yes I was told this for years, but what no one could explain was how to provide self care and my head was so full with keeping everyone safe that I didn't have the ability to search out self care.

What does it do to a mama's heart when she hears abuse and negativity day in and day out, but every other person the child comes in contact with is blessed with a smile and kind words? It wears away at a body. Some days I can handle it while others I want to sob, "Go find yourself another mom, one you can love and respect, because no matter how hard I try, this relationship is fraught with pain!" Then I feel guilty because what kind of a mom thinks, or even worse, says such things to a hurting child? However, internalizing the pain doesn't help either. I have proof, I tried it for years and eventually my body said, "This has to stop or else." The guilt I feel for having these thoughts adds to the layers of trauma, because I long for my child to be able to rest in our love, I long to see my child thrive.

When you swallow your feelings of pain and reach out to your hurting child, only to have him throw your kindness back in your face, it hurts. The pain becomes a physical thing, takes on a presence all it's own and invade's your relationship with others. As one child recently told me, "Mom, you think everyone in the world is out to get us." That was a wake up call to me because I know what drives that type of thinking;  unresolved trauma. I also know unresolved trauma can make a person do and say thing they never would if they were operating from a place of love and security.

As is typical in traumatic relationships, walls are built to protect hurting hearts from further pain. Our home is full of these walls. I hated them, but as long as I felt like I have to be everything for my children, the walls continued to grow higher and wider still. A therapist finally looked at me point blank and said, "You need boundaries with your children and other people and I am going to hold you accountable." If I am honest, the thought both terrified me and gave me hope because while I hadn't the foggiest clue how to go about setting boundaries, I also saw a glimmer of light at the end of a very dark tunnel. For years all of my trauma training enforced the belief that I must never react negatively when my children lashed out due to their trauma. In order to maintain that level of parenting I shut down because that is the only way one can endure such an intense level of physical and emotional pain for any length of time.

I have been praying that God would show me, lead me, to those who have the ability to help our family heal and as the months have passed He has faithfully provided doctors, therapists, counselors, teachers, friends who while they may not understand are willing to listen, and others who have unknowingly ministered to our family. I have had to release my tightly clenched fists and face my fears that in doing so our family is going to be decimated. If I am honest, letting others in is a deeply traumatizing experience for me, but somehow in the midst of that letting go and facing my fears healing is coming. My PTSD is screaming at me, "This is all a mistake, your worst fears are going to come to life if you don't keep micromanaging!" But I keep reminding myself, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome." How often do we trauma mama's find ourselves on the race track of doing the same thing and hoping against hope that this time it will be different because our training says this method should work?

For me, self care means getting professional help so I can sort through my own inner pain from the past years, setting boundaries (how freeing!!) spending extra time in prayer and connecting with God, acknowledging the hurts in my life rather than trying to squash them, saying no and most of all, building a village of people that I can rely on. That village has been a long time coming, which I mostly take the blame for, but God has brought some amazing people into our lives during this past year and for them we will be forever grateful!

School Decision's & FASD

This blog has been silent for far too long. It isn't that I don't have anything to write about, but more that I don't know how much or even if I should share what life has been like these past months. 

School is one of the many issues we have been working on. Two years ago we decided to home school our children. The three youngest were struggling in most area's at school and after all we had been through emotionally in the three previous years, we thought perhaps it would be good to keep them home and focus on family for a while. Home school was exactly what everyone needed except for one person: mom. I was trying to be therapeutic mom, teacher, and therapist besides caring for all the other tasks a mom is responsible for and I was falling short in every area. I finally told Dean, "I can't do this anymore!!!" In reality it was more of a major meltdown on my part with me sobbing my heart out because I was so overwhelmed. We started discussing the possibility of sending the girls to school. We knew they would need a school that could meet both their academic needs as well as understanding a bit about trauma. Thankfully God opened doors and we found a school that will fit their needs. Even though the thought of sending the girls to school sometimes feels a bit overwhelming, we are hoping and praying that it will help them grow and flourish.

We had Joseph tested via the school district and the results showed pretty much what we thought. Now we have to decide do we send him to school or not? Homeschooling was exactly what he needed, but he is a very intense child and keeping him safe from all the potential dangers in his world drains me. His social skills are really poor which can be typical for those with FASD and his specific genetic problem, but is school the answer? He is incredibly vulnerable and I shudder to think what could happen if we send him to school, the flip side is are we depriving him of an opportunity to bloom by keeping him home? The public schools have access to many services he will might never have if we don't send him. I know my trust issues are playing a big role in this... I have so many fears, although in my defense they are all legit!

A story to emphasize my point: The other day I bought the children each a box of french fries as a reward. They ate them as we drove because....well, those of you who have children with developmental trauma know taking them into a restaurant alone can be disastrous! I bought them each a large box because they hadn't had much for lunch so I knew they would be hungry. We came home and Joseph asked me for a snack. I told him he had just eaten his french fries and that was enough food. He has no sense of portion control and will eat until he is sick if we aren't careful so we have a rule that he has to ask before getting food. He promptly burst into tears and said he was still hungry because he shared his fries with Lia. I asked a few questions and he said, "Lia asked if I have extra and I didn't want her to starve so I gave her mine!" I couldn't imagine that Lia had eaten two boxes so I asked for more details. Turned out he had given her a small handful, which to him meant he hadn't gotten enough, thus he was "starving!" He was thoroughly upset with me because he was soooo hungry and I wouldn't let him eat anything.  He proceeded to tell me I was mean, I didn't like him, and just wanted him to starve. I finally put him to bed with his stuffed animal and weighted blanket, he lay there and sobbed his heart out, leaving me feel like a terrible mom. Joseph misinterprets so many things, he cannot read people's expressions, and confuses fact with fiction...scary stuff when working with mandated reporters.

   All these years I have tried so hard to be everything for my children because if I didn't who would? It took a kind friend asking, "What is the worst thing that could happen if you give yourself a break?" I had to think about that and the answers weren't easy because the things that could happen are huge, terrifying things. Things that I want to avoid at all costs, but the alternative is not being there to meet any of their needs because I am too burned out. Please tell me I am not the only "trauma mama" out there who micromanages just to keep things from collapsing. For me, it is easier to run myself ragged rather than deal with the fallout from those who, well intentioned or no, try to tell us how to care for our children. So often I want to put my head in my hands and say, "If it were that easy, we wouldn't be where we are now!!!"  

We are praying for a perfect "education plan" for Joseph, one that would meet his needs and one that we could feel good about. I don't know if such a thing exists but if it does, we are praying for it!

Empathy - A Balm For The Parental PTSD Brought On By Your Child's Trauma

I have been mulling over this post for the past several weeks. I have typed and deleted posts one after the other because they didn't adequately portray what I had on my heart. I am not sure this one is any better, but after being contacted by various people, I am going to give it my best shot. I don't want people reading this post to feel that the life of a trauma parent is without blessings and success because it isn't that way at all. Nor do I want to give the illusion that I am on the brink of a break down, although that can be a distinct possibility for a trauma parent at any given time. Rather, I want to give a glimpse, inadequate though it is, into the thought processes of those of us who parent children who's very existence was built upon trauma, pain and loss. 

I have been amazed at the hundreds of shares and comments my post, When Your Child's Trauma Causes Parental PTSD, generated. In reading the comments it was clear that those of us parenting children/teens with early childhood trauma are all in the same boat. We are all weary, begging for non existent or hard to attain services and burning out in the process. There is a chronic lack of resources, time and funding necessary for those in our care to succeed. To compensate, we as caregivers pour everything we have into our children in order to keep them and their peers safe while maintaining the family unit,

Being teacher, parent and therapist to one or more children is simply too much, but we find ourselves filling those roles and more, because the alternative requires stepping through the right hoops in the correct order to possibly attain services that may or may not be successful. The enormity of our child's needs can be overwhelming at best and when you feel alone in your journey you can be sucked into an abyss of fear and anxiety. In my previous post many people commented that they had hoped I would have some answers to this dilemma, but unfortunately I am searching along with you all. However I do have one ray of hope, empathy. Having someone come alongside you and ask how things are going and offer a listening ear allows us to let go of just a little of that debilitating stress that hovers over us at all times. Knowing someone cares may be the only thing that keeps a parent from throwing himself under the bus in a desperate attempt to save a child who is falling apart. That probably sounds extreme but those of us in the trenches of trauma know it is anything but extreme. The lengths we will go too, even at great harm to ourselves is a testament of our desire to see our child happy and in a good place emotionally. 

There are things that happen in our home's, things that no one beside's the child's therapist and a few close, trustworthy friends will ever know about. Our children act out their trauma in the only way they know how and sometimes it is truly frightening to see and we know that we dare not leak out such information both for the child's sake and because we have already experienced the shocked expressions when we shared before. There is something particularly defeating to know your story, or your child's story, is so painful that others can't read or hear about it, but you are required to live with this desperation and do so with a smile on your face.

I used to think that in order to truly empathize with someone, I needed to experience similar circumstances, but that isn't true. Having said that I will say there is a special healing that takes place when you are broken and someone who has come through the trial you are currently ensconced in,shares their story and offers words of comfort. This weekend after a rough evening away my daughter had a typical trauma reaction. I heard her sobbing her heart out in her bed. I left her cry for awhile before going to her and asking questions. Her first words were, "Mom, will you cry with me?" Now I haven't lost my bio family, I haven't endured many of the things she has, but my heart could hurt with hers. We cried, we talked about our hurts, talked about the losses in our lives and how seeing other people happy can feel like your heart is being ripped out when you are so sad inside. As a child, she had no concept of my losses and what was driving my tears, but we shared our grief and that lessened the pain.

This parenting journey is hard. Things like abuse, trauma, neglect and prenatal exposure bring untold pain. We discuss things with our children that weren't even on the radar when we were their age. Life has taught them at an early age that pain is around every corner and sadly, as unprepared parents, we took on their trauma responses and developed our own PTSD. There isn't much people, outside of professionals, can do for us, but you can pray and encourage us. It might become wearying to ask how things are going and hear the same worn out response, "We are hanging on by a thread, please keep us in your prayers." But think how much more exhausting it is to live this life...to have so much trauma that the thought of tomorrow brings fear and anxiety? Imagine living with that for years? Imagine seeing your child in so much emotional pain that he can barely breathe and knowing that no one can or will help you? Imagine a child who has been so conditioned to destroy everything those around him hold dear in order to keep up a wall between himself and you, that he decimates the lives of his family? Imagine cringing at the thought of your child walking in the door from school, or fearing that he won't come home at all and you will have to call the police again. Imagine the hopelessness of  feeling as though no one can help your child, no one can help you? Imagine life without joy, life without hope....that is what trauma does, it sucks the joy and hope out of the life of it's victim and then goes on to claim those closest to him. Trauma victims and their loved ones live this life every day. You may not see it, they will go to great lengths to spare you, but it is there simmering under the surface, begging for someone to care enough to listen.

As victims of trauma we are told to count our blessings, practice self care and remember that God has a plan... and our hearts bleed a bit more because sometimes the only blessings we can come up with are things like having air to breathe (and in reality you sometimes can't help but wish that the air would just vanish so you don't have to do this anymore). When there is no energy for self care because even breathing hurts, and in your humanness the thought comes to mind that if this is God's plan then this is too hard and you don't want to continue on, it is at these times that we need people to hold up our weak arms. You might not be able to provide the services my child needs, you might not have thousands of dollars lying in a drawer just awaiting a needy child, you might not have time to get the necessary training so you can babysit a child with attachment disorder, but you can care. You can offer encouragement and speak words of truth into a suffering parents ear. Your kind gesture may be all that is keeping a hurting parent afloat. As one parent so aptly put it, "Why can't the people telling me to practice self care realize that my hair is on fire and my hands are tied?" In other words, trauma parents, especially those of us who have children with complex trauma, can't afford the price of self care be it the physical price or the horrific repercussions in terms of behavior. When we can't get a break, your kindness and thoughtfulness may be the only be the only thing standing between us and complete and utter chaos.

This post is totally from a parents point of view. I in no way intend to discredit the pain and anguish a child endures concerning the circumstances that are behind the behaviors that can drive a parent into the ground, that is a topic for another post.

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When A Special Needs Parent Fall's Into A Hole

I had to chuckle a little when I saw this quote come up in my FB feed. I think it accurately describes what we special needs parents feel at times. Our lives are so complex and so confusing that those who haven't walked this road must wonder at us sometimes! 

Even as I chuckled, I had to admit it was 100% spot on. For many of us, our children's disabilities are hidden and no one knows what goes on inside the walls of our homes. Explaining a complex, invisible disability is hard. I often find myself lacking the words to adequately convey my child's needs and end up sounding like an over protective mom.

As you all know, taking a day off work won't fix the problem, it might not even help the problem. If you could take ten years off and still receive a paycheck so you could be with you child 24/7 you would most certainly make some progress.

Doctor's are a necessary part of this journey but too many of them don't have the time to spend individually with their patients to really learn what is happening. It is much easier to prescribe a medication, send the child home and have the parent call if there are problems. And trust me, our prenatally exposed children are so complex that there will be problems. The parent has to decide if they are giving the medication a fair trial, if the child is reacting to the medication,  if it is due to a previously unknown trauma trigger, or could it be that this new med doesn't mix with the other medications he is taking? The doctor may have answers or he may not. Prenatal alcohol exposure means our child's brain may react in any one of a hundred unusual ways. Then there are the new behaviors that pop up and you have to figure out if the new medication is causing it, or has the medication helped relax the child enough that he is able to expose another layer of trauma? Other doctor's take one look at the child and say, "He is fine, you just need to be firmer with him." Still others say, "He is too young to be exhibiting these symptoms, are you sure that is what is happening? Perhaps you are only imagining things?" There was a time we had so many doctors, therapists and medications on board that things were absolute chaos. We ended up eliminating them one by one and starting back at ground zero to try to make sense of things. It would have been so nice to have a professional who truly understood our child(ren) and would have sorted out the mess, but unfortunately there wasn't anyone with those credentials who could help us as we didn't meet certain criteria and/or hadn't gone up the necessary rungs of the ladder in the correct order so we didn't apply.

Behavioral services are rife with loophole's. You think you have your I's dotted and your T's crossed only to find out that they can't help you due to budget cut's, time constraint's, age, diagnosis etc. etc. It is maddening to fill out reams of paperwork only to discover you have once more reached a dead end. They push you off to another department or another colleague and, I suspect, breathe a sigh of relief that you are no longer their problem.

Nobody has money for the services our children need, I admit their diagnosis cause them to be a bottomless bucket of needs. It isn't their fault, they didn't ask for this, but the fact remains this is the reality the child/parents face. The supports, schooling and therapies our children need are astronomically expensive, leaving family struggling. Parents see how certain things could help their child, but can't afford them. 

There are always charities who help with such expenses, but there are more needs than charities. Applying for charity aid requires more paperwork. More explaining, more defending and more questions until you wonder if it is worth it, beside's there is little hope that you will actually receive the help you need because there are thousand's of people applying for aid.

I have found that knowledge of the prevalence of FASD is still new enough that there aren't as many services available. If my son had autism we would be able to access many services that are currently beyond our grasp due to his diagnosis. 

Then come your friends who get it without you having to explain a thing. When you simply say, "It's been rough today," they smile, give you a hug and reply, "I understand," and drop what they are doing to help you out. And it means so much because you know that their plate is every bit as full as your own. Having friends and family who care is vital in providing the courage to get up, dry your eyes and try again.

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*I couldn't find who wrote the above quote, but if anyone knows contact me and I will give credit to whom it is due.