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!

Compassion Fatigue In Special Needs Parenting

This afternoon I came across this Ted Talk: Drowning In Empathy: The Cost Of Vicarious Trauma and a light bulb went on in my brain. See, I have really been struggling here of late. Life just isn't much fun when you haven't felt well for months, you have traumatized children with health issue's for which there don't seem to be answer's and it's December, the month in which our family has one too many trauma triggers.

In her talk, Amy Cunningham explained it this way, "Compassion fatigue is the post traumatic stress disorder related symptoms that you receive vicariously as a secondary target to trauma." Does that ring a bell with any of you who are parenting children with trauma or brain injuries due to substance abuse? It sure did with me! Much of my trauma comes from being the target when my children's trauma overwhelms them and they lash out at the safest thing in their world, mom.

Amy goes on to say that being an empath -having the ability to put yourself in someone else's shoes, and really get it- puts you at an even greater risk for compassion fatigue. Personally, empathy is one of the things that helps me look beyond my child's behavior. 

When my child self sabotage's every fun family activity, putting my self in his shoes and feeling the internal pain he has due to circumstances beyond his control, gives me the ability to view him as a hurting child who is afraid or doesn't believe he is good enough to have a good time...and I can feel empathy versus frustration.

When my child ruins a sibling's birthday gift, empathy allows me to look at why he ruined the gift versus giving consequences.

When my child screams abuse at me for no reason, empathy allows me to remember it is a traumaversary and not to internalize the words. Empathy allows me to hold my child and remember that he lost his first family and he still yearns for the approval of his birth mom. The words he is screaming come from a wound deep inside and while they are directed at me, I must not take them personally.

When my child pours on the charm for anyone outside the family but dishes out rages and put downs the remainder of the time, empathy reminds me that we are her safe place.

As the parent of a child with trauma or brain injuries, you are always on call. You can't say, "I am "compassioned out", I have nothing left to give, no rages today!" Quite honestly, on the days when you feel that way, your child is going to be extra challenging because he senses that his strong rock is wavering. His anxiety is going to skyrocket which will trigger the behavior's, which will mean you have to intervene. Again, and again, and again and as the years pass you will find yourself changing. Things that you were once able to overcome with only a small struggle, will loom larger and larger. 

As you walk through trauma with your children, you may find yourself triggered by their trauma, but as a good parent you will tell yourself that you have to remain strong for your child. If you don't who will? You will see your child going into trauma mode and your stomach will clench, you feel weak and panicked because you know what is coming and you know that even though your heart feels drained of empathy, you are going to need to fake it because without empathy on your part, things are going to go down fast and hard. 

Amy Cunningham shared how burn out and compassion fatigue were once confused. Here is her explanation of how they differ, " Burn out is being worn out and tired, and just flat out not liking your job. Compassion fatigue has to do with being afraid. Compassion fatigue begins to change your hard wiring, change who you are. We see this in Child Protection Workers. They become over vigilant, believing that everyone is out to hurt them and their family." Sound familiar? It sure does to me! The memories of a child sharing their story, a child sobbing until they are breathless because of the pain in their hearts, a child begging you to help them and knowing you are helpless...these memories don't go away. When you love a child, you hurt when they hurt, and our children hurt a lot.

We like to think we will be fine, and can take years of this trauma but as I am finding out, it catches up to us. My doctor told me recently that I got in trouble health wise because, "You were too busy being a mom for too many years." I didn't tell her, but she only knows a fraction of our story. My brain and body had been shouting for years trying to get my attention but I didn't see any alternative. If I am honest, I still don't. Amy says that what many of us do is buckle down and work a little harder. We have this mindset that if I work just a little harder, I can make this trauma go away. That isn't rational thinking, especially in the area of parenting traumatized, brain damaged children. I mean really, we know we can't make the damage go away, but sometimes in our panic we act as though we think by doing more therapy, finding another doctor, finding another RTC, putting up more alarms and camera's...then things will get better.

Another sypmtom of compassion fatigue that Amy mentions is not having enough; not enough resources, not enough thanks. "At the beginning, when you agreed to do ___________ did you know you were going to be under appreciated etc, but did you say, it's okay, I love you enough that I am willing? Then somewhere along the way it was no longer okay. It is no longer okay that I am not thanked, that I don't have what I need to succeed? What that tells me is that your circumstances didn't change, you did." WOW! 

Amy makes mention of the oxygen mask metaphor. Say you are flying with your children and the need to use the masks arises. In order for you to help your children, you need to first put on your own mask. As any parent knows, your instinct is to protect your children before yourself. I remember the other month when Kiana and I were both sick and I needed to see the doctor asap. He said I can take Kiana's appointment and bump her's back a week. I felt so guilty doing so and he reminded me of the oxygen mask metaphor. "If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be here to take care of your children." We like to think that we are super parents and can care for our children before caring for ourselves, because that is what we do, right? But we forget that without putting on our own oxygen mask's, we will be unable to help our children. 

Having said all that, I KNOW I cannot give from an empty vessel, I KNOW I cannot give what I don't have but the fact remains that if I stop, my children will crash and what is life without ones children? So, like so many of you, I find myself giving, struggling a little more each day, but still giving because what is the alternative?

 However, for me, knowing the why behind my struggles gives me a little hope, just enough to get up and try again in the morning. Amy suggest's ten minute's of self care daily to help alleviate compassion fatigue, but personally, once one has gone into full blown compassion fatigue, ten minute's is woefully inadequate. Since we have begun homeschooling, the children go to their rooms to read for at least 1.5 hours every afternoon. I need that quiet time to regroup. Sometimes I feel guilty because what mom needs a break from her children, then I remind myself of the oxygen mask metaphor and use that time time to regain my equilibrium. 

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When Mom's Brain Is MIA -Living With FASD

My blog posts have been few and far between these last months. I was dealing with health problems that had doctor's stumped. I reacted to medication's, spent days with no energy, and as the days and weeks wore on, felt a depression settle over me because no one could help me. As the days passed I was less and less in tune with the world around me... and the children felt it.

Having a mom who's brain was MIA, triggered trauma's that hadn't raised their head in a long time. Everyone know's that trauma can hinder a child's ability to self regulate, but it wasn't until I was floating adrift myself, that I realized how much my children rely on me. As much as I tried to appear strong and in control on the outside, I couldn't hide how torn up I was. For the past ten years, we have worked closely together to overcome the trauma that was doing it's best to undermine the foundation of trust we struggled to lay down and keep in place. That close interaction is absolutely necessary when healing from trauma, but it also means mom can't hide behind a fake smile. My children can read me like a book and even though I reassured them that I was okay, deep inside they knew I wasn't and it shook them to the core.

Old trauma's that I had forgotten about, came back with a vengeance. We had wet spot's on the sofa, eating, eating, and eating to drown the feelings of panic, meltdowns, the lying was through the roof and oh, the tears and manipulation! I pleaded with God for answer's to my health problems, if not for my sake, then for my children's. Dean and I carefully guard the foundation of trust that is being built between us and our children. The little bit of trust we have gained is so precious to us, that we go to great length's to preserve it. Knowing it only takes a few minute's to undermine that foundation,makes us all the more cautious. But here we were, weeks into this ordeal and losing out more each day. I was desperate!

How do you reassure a child who has personal experience with mom leaving? I have been here as mom for ten years, but that doesn't mean I will be here tomorrow. This child guards her heart closely, it was hurt once, and she won't risk having it hurt again. We have been making some progress, but having mom sick did a great deal of damage to the fragile trust that was beginning to form. Someone said, "How she loves you!" It is true she does, but deep underneath where no one but mom and dad could see, was FEAR! And it was driving her to try desperate measure's. 

How does a child who has zero self regulation keep from falling apart when his stabilizing force is no longer there? The answer is simple: he doesn't. Poor Joseph spent more time getting lost in our house, losing his possession's, getting into trouble and hurting himself than he has in a long time. It seemed as though his brain literally couldn't function when he was no longer grounded.

How does a child who is facing the real (to him)  fear of losing another mom react? He become's angry, he starts testing you, he pulls away emotionally. When mom is sick, it is very easy to pull away as well because who has the energy for this kind of drama when you aren't feeling well?

The coming weeks are going to be challenging because a lot of behaviors and attitude's were left slide. Fear gained a foot hold in my children's minds and it isn't going to be easy to send him packing. I would love to hear how you regroup when stability has been rocked, when attachment has been challenged, when fears that were laid to rest rise again. I have to be very careful because just as my children react to a lack of structure, too much "bonding" scares them just as badly.

Here is a quote that sums up how scattered one child felt: "Where am I? I went back and I was right, but now I can't find where I am." 


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From The Inside Looking Out - When FASD Is Hard To Explain -Living With FASD

I have recently begun following Beating Trauma With Elisabeth Corey  and love her many thought provoking posts and comments. If you are a victim of trauma. or parenting children with trauma, I urge you to check out her FB page. She works with adults, but her writings offer insight into why our children struggle in particular area's. As I have said before; FASD is a form of trauma due to both the prenatal exposure the child endured, and going through life with this particular form of brain damage is an open invitation for further trauma to occur.

When I feel frustrated with someone who obviously does not get Joseph's disability and through their interaction with him, are compounding the problem, I try to place myself in their shoes. What must the situation look like to them? Here is a child who's parents have obviously placed severe boundaries in his life, they also monitor his speech and actions,while insist on being by his side at all times. For all intents and purposes, the parents appear to be both coddling him while not allowing him to have a social life. When someone comes to me in what feels to me like a defensive manner, and begins questioning our parenting of Joseph, I am slowly learning that they won't be able to understand no matter how much I explain and I must remember that, "From the outside looking in, it is hard to understand."

The flip side is when you are on the inside looking out and you know if you could help people understand that you aren't being mean to your child, nor are you coddling him, you would have a great deal less stress. If only they could understand that you are merely providing the supports and boundaries he needs to both thrive and survive, and that if it were at all possible you would be only to happy to let up on them. I don't think you can explain how draining it is to keep a constant eye on your child, to think of the 101 things he could get into even though you have been super vigilant. Joseph has the uncanny ability to get into trouble or hurt himself, even when he is in line of vision. It is due in part to his lack of cause and effect, along with dysmaturity which means that while he is the size of a 10 year old, he is developmentally between the ages of 3-5. He is tall enough to reach the counter tops, the stove etc. but he can't be trusted not to turn on the stove or taste a mouthful of spices. 

How do you explain that while my son can speak fairly intelligently on certain subjects, he has no idea if a topic is appropriate, nor when it is time to discontinue the discussion. He will talk to you about any given subject for as long as you listen. The more you engage him, the more he talks and the bigger the fall out will be. How do you explain that interacting with my child causes him to become hyper vigilant without sounding like an over protective, paranoid parent? The brain power needed for each interaction, rapidly uses up the meager store he has on any given day. This means he won't have enough brain power to regulate his emotions, follow instructions, or even enjoy the remainder of his day. When he becomes over stimulated, his cortisol goes through the roof and he is unable to relax enough to sleep, resulting in still more tears. 

How do you explain the grief you feel when you see your child mourning his inability to interact with his peers? I often hear, "But ____________ is 10 and he can ___________, so why can't I?" He cannot understand that he has a disability, he only knows that others his age have privileges that are light years beyond what he can enjoy. 

And then there is the guilt that you have to work through in order to be the parent your child needs. 

You feel guilty for getting frustrated with his ceaseless chatter about nonsense. 

You feel guilty for resenting this disability that has turned life as you knew it on it's head and will continue to be foremost in any family decisions in the future. 

You feel guilty for getting frustrated with your child, because sometimes that stress presents itself in ways that make you wonder who you have become.

You feel guilty for insisting that your child have a small life even though it is in his best interest, because you know keeping his world small, means he is easier to care for.

All these reasons, plus a host of others make it incredibly difficult to explain what it is like to parent a child with FASD and from the inside looking out, it would make all the difference if only you could. 

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When Trauma Invades Your Home

How many of you have in a moment of deep pain cried out to God and said, "I wanted to adopt. I knew that it wouldn't be easy, but I didn't know it would be this hard!!!!" 

You wanted to fill a need, not become part of the deep vacuum  trauma so often creates in a family! Especially when a family is unprepared for the depth of trauma. 

We, like so many other's, thought our children with trauma would cross the bridge to us and welcome our love and the sense of safety and protection we could provide. What happened instead was, we crossed over to the trauma side and became victims along with our child(ren).

Your home, once a place of safety and stability, becomes a war zone. Your trauma child learned to be hyper vigilant to protect himself in his previous home, and now you and your family have somehow taken up this same skill. This means that there is always a feeling of tension in the air. Everyone knows how fragile the sense of peace can be. In fact, you almost dread that feeling of calmness because when it is present, you know things are going to fall apart spectacularly.

Children with a trauma history learn to manipulate other's at a very young age. When they come into your home and are treated with love and respect, they don't soak up that affection, then pour it out on others like an emotionally healthy person would. No, they rely on the life lesson's the stood them in good stead up until this time. Lesson's that have been so painful that they have learned them well the first time.

These lesson's include: 

-Hurt other's before they can hurt you

-No one care's about me

-I am no good

-No one will ever love me

A child with this kind of mind set is a challenge to reach. They will push you away at every turn. They will do their best to hurt you because they just know you are going to hurt them. If you aren't careful your relationship with your child quickly becomes one of toxic pain and stress, nowhere near what you desire for him.

When your child has brain challenges in addition to trauma, progress can quickly begin to feel nonexistent. He cannot understand why he feels the things he does. He doesn't trust you and his brain damage prevents him from implementing the therapeutic technique's that would possibly help another child. 

There are day's when I fear our child will become a teen with a preschoolers understanding of socially appropriate behavior and moral standards. You may already be walking this road, instead of only glimpsing it in the future, and you know how very hard it is.

Sometimes when I am at the end of myself, and know my child needs me to intervene to prevent further damage to his fragile psych, I find myself uttering the wordless plea of trauma parents everywhere, "God, I can't. You must somehow step in and help us because I don't know what to do." He doesn't always provide an immediate answer, but he does always provide the grace to make it through one more day. 

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The Pain Of Remembering

Sometimes I get a bit frustrated with my children when they are obviously reacting to a trauma trigger but have no idea what is bothering them. I ask how they feel and they shrug their shoulders and say, "I am angry!" Now we all know mad is a cover emotion, sad, scared, worried all typically show themselves as mad.Our two middle children are "mad" a lot according to them, but if we can get them talking, we usually find another big feeling is to blame for the actions/attitude. 

It is amazing how often God allows me to experience something so that I can better understand my children. For me understanding allows me to be empathetic and compassionate. I wish I was one of those people who can ride the waves and not be affected by their children's trauma behaviors, but I am not. However when I can understand a bit where they are coming from, suddenly it makes perfect sense.

Yesterday was one of the hardest days I have had in a long time. I didn't know why, couldn't make sense of it. There were a few small issues that triggered me but none big enough to make me meltdown in tears during Sunday School They were big, messy, heart wrenching tears. I kept praying that the tears would stop but they refused to. Si I kept my head bowed and hoped I wasn't being too obvious. Kiana whispered, "Mom, are you sick?" She kept looking at me with concern which made the tears come faster and harder. I was ready to tell Dean we have to go home but I prayed that if God wants us to stay for the remainder of the service, he would dry up my tears. He did, so we stayed although we left immediately afterward, much to the children's dismay.

The rest of the day, was hard and try as I might I couldn't figure out what was wrong, so I blamed it on withdrawal. This morning I had a memory from several years ago on FB and I knew what was wrong. Yesterday was Braden's birthday! I knew it was coming up and I had determined not to let it catch me off guard because the same thing has happened before. But as usual, life got busy and I forgot. What a good reminder that, "The Body Never Forgets."

Our bodies were designed to retain information but sometimes that retaining means our hearts are broken again and again. Our minds forget but our bodies never forget what we have gone through. I remember reading somewhere that when you experience something too painful to think on, your brain provides a barrier and you "forget" until such a time as you are emotionally strong enough to process the loss. I think that is what my brain is doing, little by little I grieve those painful years and all that happened. If I remembered it all at once, I would likely experience a mental break down. I find this is very true with our children, there are some things we work through time and again and each time, new memories/thoughts are recalled and a bit more healing is accomplished. 

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How To Encourage A Family Who Has Disrupted An Adoption

When we disrupted B's adoption I craved empathy, I longed for a shoulder to cry on and cherished the words, "I am praying for you." Many people find it hard to relate to someone who has disrupted an adoption and rightly so, disruption is a complex thing. Something that is not easily understood even by the people who are doing the disrupting!

I remember wishing we could have a memorial service of sorts for our son because it felt like he had died....except he hadn't. Our dreams were dead, empty things now that we knew our little boy wouldn't thrive in our home and how that hurt! I remember sitting in our camper at Penn Valley (a conservative christian adoption retreat) and feeling bitter and angry about our situation. I felt like nobody understood, here was a group of people celebrating adoption and we were deep in the pain of disruption. I heartily wished we had just stayed home. I called a friend who has walked a similar path and poured out my heart to her. She assured me of her prayers and as we talked, she guided me into a better frame of mind. 

God heard and answered her prayers and that afternoon through a God ordained event, I was blessed to have a group of friends encircle me while I cried. Having someone come alongside you when you are in deep emotional pain is priceless. Those tears were the beginning of a long path to healing, something that is still a work in progress.

Why do I share this? Because I am becoming aware of just how many family's are out there facing disruption all alone. Many parents make the decision to disrupt not because they are mean or vindictive, or even because they are tired of living the restricted lifestyle necessary when parenting children with intense behaviors. They disrupt because they truly believe the child will do better in another family. Perhaps the child needs a fresh start, many of these children make life very miserable for their family and when they begin to heal, some are unable to move past what happened. Other family's run out of money, some have younger children whom their child preys upon, still others are in poor health due to years of stress and chaos. These parents love their children, in fact they love them enough to lay aside their desire's and focus instead on what is best for their child.

Chances are good that you will come in contact with a family who has disrupted an adoption sometime and when that happens, offer your support. It may not make sense to you but that is okay, we don't have to agree with the choices others make in order to support them. A hug, gift, note or a few words of encouragement may be what makes the day bearable for a family who has made a decision that they never dreamed they would have to make.

Empathy - When It Is Hard To Love

Do you know what is so hard about parenting children who's lives would be "so much better" if only they hadn't been adopted? 

Empathy. Being empathetic when a child is intent on proving that you ruined his life when you adopted him, therefore you must pay can be devastating.

When he cannot face the pain of accepting that his birth mom/dad messed up or whatever the case may be, he has to project that anger and frustration somewhere. Guess where? Usually it's mom.

In order for the child to heal from past trauma, he needs someone who can take his pain and his rage and still love him in return. That is hard, really hard.

Saying "I am so sorry you cannot live with your birth parents," while remembering the situation your child was removed from can be difficult. Add in the sacrifices your family made for this child, sacrifices that you made willingly, but the child brushed aside and trampled because he is so full of pain and rage from things done to him by his birth family, and it is doubly hard to be empathetic.

When your heart is torn between sympathy for your child and pain for what the rest of the family has to endure because of his rage, it is tough to keep things in perspective.

It would be so much easier to say, "If that's the way you want it, then have it your way," effectively closing your heart to further pain. But the hurting child wouldn't heal and he is just as much a victim of circumstance as you are, although it can be easy to lose sight of that fact when he is the one unleashing havoc in your home.

As an adoptive parent you will have to choose between empathy and closing your heart. The latter is easier but the former is the only way to healing.

Parenting children with trauma, especially when that trauma causes attachment difficulties, means opening your heart to pain and anguish. 

It means making choices for your child, choices that may make your child turn against you for a season because he cannot see the big picture. 

It means fighting for your child when everyone else wants to give up or punish him for the seemingly atrocious acts he has committed, without looking at the driving factor behind the act. 

It means loving a little wildcat who would sooner die than allow you into his heart because he has learned that adults only want to hurt him.

It means holding your child close after he intentionally destroyed a project you spent weeks completing.

It means choosing love when your heart wants to wither and die from the pain this little person has brought into your life.

It means loving again and again, when you really wanted to throw in the towel the day before yesterday.

When Doors Close

"When one door closes another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon that closed door that we do not see the one that has opened for us." -Alexander Graham Bell

Door and door after door has slammed in my face in my search for health care for Kiana. The therapist we were so hopeful would work out is no longer taking new clients, neither is the PANS/PANDAS specialist. The nutritionist doesn't have openings until April and the price is a little overwhelming. Besides, do we have until April? The doctor Kiana is currently seeing prescribes one antibiotic after the next and while they take the edge off the more severe symptoms, that is about all they are doing. I find myself saying, "God, we need help here and every door is slammed in my face!"

Do you know what God reminded me of? The many, many times over the years when there wasn't a way out. Each and every time he made a way. So why can't I just sit back and trust him this time? Partly because I know what could happen if we don't get treatment and partly because I am tired of calling doctors only to be told, "Sorry we can't help you." So I began mentally going over the times God has made a way when there was no way.

-When I called TAP to talk about placing B there they initially told me they won't have an opening for 6 weeks. At the time I couldn't fathom waiting another six weeks. The very next day they said they had a room open up suddenly and we could bring him in 3 days!

-When CPS wanted to move Lia, God knocked down walls and opened doors that we didn't even know were there.

-There was the time I took Kiana to the doctor, feeling certain that she had PANS but not knowing if her pediatrician would be willing to discuss this controversial diagnosis. The doctor listened to my story and said did you ever hear of PANDAS? (PANDAS is caused by strep, PANS by stress & infections) 

-When school became to much for Joseph and the school board found a teacher willing to teach him for the remainder of the school term. I was so relieved, as I didn't feel up to homeschooling him which was our other option.

-When Joseph's dermatologist agreed that his eczema was caused by stress and worked with us to get him some relief.

-A long time ago before we knew much about RAD, I called a woman who lives clear across the USA, begging for help. She had experience parenting children with RAD and was able to give me many inside tips. We talked for several hours and when we hung up, I told Dean, "I found someone who believes our story, we aren't crazy after all!" 


"Thus saith the Lord, which maketh a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty waters..." Isaiah 43:16

How can I not trust a God who can make a way through the sea?

Weeping Mothers And Wailing Children

   We all have them, days when life feels overwhelming, yesterday was just such a day for me. I briefly entertained running away like my son had done the previous evening, or kicking the wall and screaming like my daughter did when she was angry. However I knew that was not the answer, besides I can't risk further traumatizing my children. 

   Like I told Dean last night, "I get so tired of being the person my children fight against." They lash out at Dean but not with the intensity that they rage at me. I feel like I am the arch enemy in their lives, the one person whose love they must fight against at all costs. The more love I pour into them the harder they must work to make me understand that they will not accept it, the cost is too high. After all, I might abandon them sometime

   I know some of it is PTSD. Memories of another child who nearly succeeded in pushing me over the edge are never far away. When my little one's use the same words and body language he used, I need to remember this is not the same child. The problem is, it is the same battle. The battle of trust and love against fear.

 There were many tears shed at our house yesterday. The children and I were in close competition as to who cried the most. They were hurting, I was weary and so we cried. Some tears are healing, while others are tears of pain and loss. Yesterday's tears were in the latter category. 

  Several small people were in tears at once last night and I had the fleeting thought that if someone were to walk into our house they would have a just reason to think we are all slightly off our rockers. Thankfully a good night's rest, talking over my fears with Dean and encouraging words from a friend helped gave me the courage to try again. 


  

  

Help For Families In Crisis - Life With RAD

  What are parents to do when they have children with RAD and they are nearing the breaking point? The other week I wrote a post entitled: Get Help Before You Break - Life With RAD. What I failed to add is where to get the help you need. I had a reader send this question: "What do you do when there is no help and you are at the breaking point?" She wasn't expecting me to reply because she knows as well as I, that there is no one size fits all answer to this problem. I have been tossing this around in my head, trying to come up with a solution because many of the mom's who contact me are in the same situation. Their child is making life unbearable, their health is failing and they are losing their remaining children's hearts. They need help and they need it now. They have gone to therapy, they are trained trauma parents, they have been to psychiatrists they have tried everything and the situation only grows worse. 

   When a mom comes to me and is in that place, it scares me because I know exactly what the family is up against. There is a lot more at stake here than losing their child, their faith is shaken, their trust in fellow humanity is gone, they are nearing the point of being suicidal because they cannot go on and there is no one to help them. When families reach this place they are in crisis and need more than one person can give, they need a whole community to rally around them. They need someone to intervene and take all their responsibilities so they can focus on healing. But that is a huge task and these families already feel as though they are a drain on their church and community. It is hard to continually be the needy family and not be able to give in return.

   As I was pondering this situation I wondered what could be done so families who have children with attachment disorders do not find themselves at this breaking point? I came to the conclusion that they need another couple to help them parent. 

   When B was home we never left him with a babysitter, the price was simply to high. When your child hates you, you are loath to give them more ammunition to use against you. I won't go in to explaining why this is, you can read here about the triangulation, manipulation and control that makes placing a child with RAD at a sitter impossible. That means mom and dad never get time together away from the children. If an older couple would be willing to learn how to care for the child and could give the parents a break that would be so helpful. We once left B with a trained RAD respite provider our therapist told us about. Even though this person was trained, she did not know B's particular methods of control and manipulation, so despite her best efforts he came away feeling triumphant because he succeeded in manipulating her. While he thrived on manipulation it scared him when he was successful because that meant he was smarter than the adults who were supposed to be keeping him safe.

   Having someone being the mediator for the family would be so helpful. These children are masters at pushing their parents beyond what they can handle. Having to explain why they parent as they do and continually having to be on guard wears these parents down. If there was someone to whom they could direct those with questions and concerns it would be such a blessing.

   Perhaps having someone who could give the parents a scheduled break as well as provide a safe buffer between them and the rest of the world would keep families from reaching the crisis point. 

  I don't know if there are any couples out there who would be willing to undertake such an enormous task but I honestly think having someone who has their back would ease the isolation and pain parents feel when caring for a child who is so emotionally damaged that he cannot accept love. Such a couple might provide enough of support that the parents could give their child what he needs without sacrificing their health, family and marriage. 

  Having someone to speak truth into their lives may be what keeps a couple from seriously questioning or even abandoning their faith. When you have a child who is trying their best to hurt you, make you crack, perhaps is even seeking to do away with you, it is really hard to remember that this child is doing this out of fear and pain. If someone who really knows what life is like from day to day would daily pour Gods word into your heart, it would be such a blessing.

  If anyone has tried this I would love to hear about it. How did you make it work? What were some of the pitfalls?


  

Get Help Before You Break - Life With RAD

   B's therapist repeatedly told me, "Know your limits, you are not helping anyone if you crash emotionally or physically." That was excellent advice, but she wasn't able to tell me what to do when I had had enough.

  In most abusive situations, the "victim" is not stuck with the abuser. When your child has RAD, you are stuck. Some are physically abusive while other's like B, are emotionally abusive. When you are the parent charged with the responsibility to love and nurture this child it can feel like you are trapped. What makes it  worse is that everyone else views your abuser as a sweet and lovable child. When your child hates you and everyone else exclaims how sweet he is, it can mess with your mind. You begin viewing yourself as an awful person, defective in some way.

  I remember the day when I reached my breaking point with B. Up until that day there had been many times when I threatened to throw in towel, whatever that may have looked like but I knew it wasn't an option. I knew I would try again the next morning no matter how horrible the day may have been. 

   There were certainly times when I tried to think of ways to get out of the situation but I was always able to get my mind back on track. I always had the emotional stamina to try again, even if that stamina was hard to come by. But there came a time that I feared I would do something awful in a weak moment. B would push me to the edge, nudge me a bit further and then step back and smirk. I knew he was trying me out, how far could he push me before I cracked? Eventually I came to the place where I didn't trust myself anymore and let me tell you, that is an awful place to be. When you don't trust yourself and you have a child who is doing his very best to push you over the edge, and you and the child both know he is very nearly succeeding, you are in a dangerous place.

  I told Dean I need help, "Something has to give, it is either me or B, we can't both live here," I said. Over the years there were many times when I cried the same thing but a good nights rest usually gave me the boost I needed. This was different, Dean and I both knew it. "Are you just tired, or are you serious?" Dean asked. 

"This is my cry for help," I said, "I need help, something has to give or I am afraid I will do something awful." That was the conversation that led to placing B at TAP. I felt awful, like I was giving up on my child but I also knew I was circling a dangerous pit, the edge was slippery and at any time I could plunge over the edge.

  B's therapist was very understanding, she repeated the words that had helped us decide that something must be done, "If you crash, you will not be able to help anyone," She reminded me, "Your other children need you, Dean needs you." Those words brought the first layer of healing to my bleeding heart.

  Why do I share this? Because I know there are parents out there, reading this blog who are drawing near the point of no return, the place where something has to change. My cry is, "Don't wait until there is a crisis, get help for you and your child now." There are to many parents who waited, cracked and did things they never would have done before they reached the place where they acted out of pain.

Children with RAD push their parents so hard because they are afraid of love. If they allow themselves to love, they give the parent the opportunity to hurt them by rejecting that love. They were hurt once, they will not be hurt again. These children need our love and support, they are terrified and in a hard place themselves. I wrote this post because there is much information out there on how to love these hurting children but the truth is, there are some times when you have to choose between allowing this child to destroy you and your family and placing them in a treatment program or even finding them a new home.

Landing In A Strange Country - Life With RAD

    Many adoptive parents have heard the story about the couple who was flying to a certain country when mid flight they learned they would be disembarking in a different country. At first they are so disappointed. They feel as though they have been cheated but as time passes they fall in love with their new destination. The moral of the story for folks who plan to have biological children but in the end adopt, is that while the destination may be different than what we planned, there are new joys awaiting us.

   But what if there isn't any joy? The sunny weather we dreamed of is only a distant memory because here in this new country there are only storms and the threat of storms. The peace and deepening relationship's with your spouse and children never materializes, instead there is screaming, rage, deep emotional pain and grief beyond anything you have ever known. 

  You determine to be cheerful and seek for the good in every day but most days there isn't anything good to be found. You decide you will be thankful for the storms, after all it is the storms in life that make us strong, right? But when the storms hit, they destroy the bond you have with your previously untraumatized children, they cause yet another friend to turn on you and CPS comes knocking once again. Emotional strength is good, but is the cost worth it?

   This is the life parents live when they have a child with RAD. There isn't much to be grateful for, well not other than being grateful no one ended up in the emergency room, no one removed your children because of lies and you are still in one piece at the end of the day. Those are all things to be thankful for but when they are the only good things happening in a day, you long to jump on the airplane and return to the country from whence you came. The country called, Before Adoption, Before RAD

   There is only one problem, there aren't any planes departing from the country in which you live. You are stuck. Your child throws physical, emotional and psychological abuse your way and you have to live with it because there is no way to leave. You sink into a deep depression made worse by the people who are supposed to be your support because they think, Surely there is some good in every place on earth. They advise you to count your blessings and be thankful you aren't living where such and such is, because they really have something to complain about. And you sink still deeper into the pit of despair. 

    Then one day you hear that there is a ship that will take you back to your home country. At first you rejoice, then you fearfully begin counting the cost. Would leaving prove you are a coward? Is it morally right to leave when God has clearly called you to this place? The flip side is emotional and physical health for your children as well as an opportunity to heal physically yourself so you can be the parent your children need. After much prayer you leave the country which you never intended to come to. You leave a part of your heart behind, along with some of your trust in mankind. You bring a broken heart, a bruised spirit and a burden for the people who are still living in the country you have just left.

  We have been back in our "old country" for several months now. While we are thankful to be back, we continue to feel somewhat like strangers. Our stay in another country changed us. We are no longer the same people we were before we climbed on that plane, our hearts filled with joy and anticipation. We came back with a different perspective on life and sometimes I wonder where we would be if we hadn't climbed on that plane.

An Example Of A Trauma Reaction

     I often share examples of how trauma affects my children, but today I want to share a personal experience of mine. Before I go any further, I want to clarify that the people who were with us at the time this trauma occurred had nothing to do with how it affected me. I am giving this example to show how trauma can affect people and the irrational responses it brings about.

  Several months ago when we were at the cabin with family, Dean received a text saying B's ICPC paperwork had gone through. This important piece of paperwork was the last link before B could be moved to his new home. Signing papers and talking of the upcoming move in the attorneys office was nothing short of traumatic for us, the finality of it all was overwhelming. Were we really making the right decision? This was our sons life we were making plans for, plans that could change the whole course of his life! Somehow knowing there was one more piece of paperwork that needed to be approved before he could move was comforting, things still weren't final.

     So when Dean received the text saying the papers were approved and B would be moving, my heart sank to my toes. I can still feel that sick feeling I got in the pit of my stomach, the lightheaded, almost dizzy sensation that made me feel unsteady on my feet. I wanted to go to a quiet place and sob my heart out, but it was suppertime, the children were hungry, the food was prepared and the evening went on, with no time to cry. I felt like I had just received word that my son had died and I didn't know how to handle it. Dean and I couldn't just go into our room to talk and mourn, because we needed to keep an eye on our children who were, as is typical for them, very hyper.

   Later we all sat down to sing together and I couldn't keep the tears back. As we sang songs of heaven, joy and pain, I felt like we were saying our final good bye's to B. He was moving on, we were staying behind and how it hurt, but it was healing at the same time. That will be a memory I will always cherish, singing songs, while in my heart I said, "Good bye, my son, we tried, but somehow we just weren't able to reach you. I pray your new family will be able to help you in ways we couldn't. Good bye, my son."

   Ever since then, whenever the family was going to be getting together, I  melted into a puddle of tears and emotional pain. I should have understood what was happening, but somehow it evaded me. Recently after having the same experience yet again, it finally clicked in my brain, "This is a trauma reaction." So I started thinking, why do I react this way? My mind went back to that time at the cabin and I felt the sinking pain and despair as if it was happening for the first time. I was relieved because now I knew what was happening, this was trauma, not mental instability! Now that I knew what was causing this reaction, I had to figure out how to work through it. I went to my trusty mom group, they have all disrupted an adoption and know first hand the pain, grief and lingering trauma that goes with it. They advised therapy which I knew was a good answer but one person brought up EMDR, which is something I did with B's therapist while working through the trauma he brought about while he was home.

   There is a scientific explanation for it, but simply put EMDR is tapping your way through trauma. To begin with, you mentally envision yourself back in the trauma situation, then rate the intensity on a scale of 1-10 with 1 being no reaction and 10 an unbearable pain. Then you begin tapping, simply pat one hand on your knee and the other hand on the other knee, there is no right or wrong way to do it, just tap and as you tap, mentally walk yourself through the painful experience. When you have reached the end of the memory, rate your trauma reaction again, keep doing this until your reaction reaches a zero. Now I know this can sound like psychobabble but this is what happens: A trauma memory can get "stuck" between your right and left brain and tapping makes both sides of your brain work together, thus freeing the memory. Your brain can then place the memory in the correct "memory box" and it is no longer a trauma memory. This is a very basic explanation and I don't recommend trying it unless you have had extensive therapy experience or are a therapist, because depending upon the memory, you can trigger a huge reaction and things could turn out badly. In my situation, I knew what the trauma was, I knew why I was reacting and what had to happen to release the emotions, plus I had done this often with a therapist, which is why I felt comfortable doing it on my own.

   This experience gave me a new insight into why my children sometimes have intense reactions to things and are unable to tell me what is wrong. I tend to think they should know what is bothering them, "Do you feel sad, mad, scared...?" I ask and they just shrug their shoulders and wail louder. This experience taught me a lesson, if I as an adult with the knowledge of trauma cannot figure out why I react to certain things, how can I expect my children with no knowledge of trauma and hearts full of pain to be able to tell me what is wrong when they are upset?





   

Grieving The Loss Of A Child Who Is Still Alive

"One of the hardest things you will ever do, my dear, is to grieve the loss of a person who is still alive."

     I am a member of a support group for parents who have disrupted an adoption. One member shared this quote and I immediately knew I wanted to share it on my FB page. But as I was going through the day, I got to thinking it would make a good blog post as I have yet to read anything on how to grieve the loss of your child, while he is still alive.

    Adoption disruption is similar to a death in some ways. Granted in disruption you "chose" to go through with it while you do not choose to loose your child through death. Everything I have read on grief after loss is so familiar the grief, numbness, sense of loss, anger, guilt and sorrow mentioned have been very much a part of our journey.

    Can you grieve for someone whom you spent years trying to love? Can you grieve the loss of a child when you have literally cried buckets of tears, begged, pleaded and yes, even bargained with God to please, please help you love him? The pint sized being who spit in your face, urinated on your floors and screamed for hours on end all because you said something as simple as, "Thank you for picking up your toys." Why would you grieve the loss of that?

Can you grieve the loss of chaos....

...The lack of fear that your child is going to lie and CPS will come knocking on your door?

The lack of judgement from well meaning people who have no clue... 

Is it possible to grieve no longer having to swallow the bile that rises in your throat when someone says they wish they could adopt a child as sweet as your child...how could you grieve something like that.

BUT....

If the chaos is gone, so is the child and so is all hope of healing..

If CPS isn't knocking on your door, then obviously no one is emotionally ill enough to make false accusations, neither is the child who needed your help to heal...

No judgement, means the child isn't in your home to bring it about....

No bile... no chaos... no CPS.... no child.... only grief, and how on earth can you process that grief, when you were unable to process the push-pull relationship your RAD child insisted upon? When you aren't even sure WHAT you are grieving?

  The answer it seems, is to separate the child from his actions but quite honestly, anyone who has a child with RAD will tell you that is well nigh impossible. Attachment disorder yes, full blown RAD however is quite another story.

 So how do you grieve, what do you grieve, should you grieve?

I grieve or maybe process, would be a better term, by talking. The trouble is, adoption disruption is one of those things people don't feel comfortable talking about. I have found that the mention of B's name is all it takes to bring a momentary halt to every conversation in the room. 

    The problem is, those of us who disrupted an adoption need to talk if we are going to heal. That is how God designed us, but what is there to say about the child that used to be yours, the child who now calls another woman mommy? The child with whom you have only a handful of good memories but who was your child nevertheless? It gets old talking about the bad times but for many of us, we have only a small handful of good memories. Remembering those good moments is hard while going over the bad moments can be devastating. So we grieve the child who could still be ours if we hadn't disrupted the adoption, all the while feeling so thankful that those dark days are behind us...

....how can you feel both grief and relief at the same time?

   

The Lonely Path Of Parenting A Child With RAD

lone·li·erlone·li·est

1. 1a :  being without company :  loneb :  cut off from others :  solitary
2. 2:  not frequented by human beings :  desolate
3. 3:  sad from being alone :  lonesome
4. 4:  producing a feeling of bleakness or desolation

lone·li·ness play\ˈlōn-lē-nəs\ noun

Children with RAD not only isolate themselves, they isolate their parents as well. I no longer have a child with that diagnosis, something I still find hard to fathom. The other evening I told Dean that it still feels like a dream when I think of everything that we went through with B. I remember so many details, all the pain and low times but there is a haze over the memory making it difficult to grasp that those memories are actually part of my life.

Anyway, time and again, I have had moms with children diagnosed with RAD, tell me how lonely they are. These moms immerse themselves in all things RAD, trying to understand what makes their child tick. Unfortunately, they find that they need to parent their emotionally healthy child(ren) completely opposite from how they parent their child with RAD. This is confusing and it takes awhile to figure out exactly how that will look like for your family.  The need to parent children within one family differently, is tough. It is especially hard if the children are close in age and too young to understand why they get consequences while the RAD child "gets" to stay near mom.

  The next strike toward loneliness comes when you try to explain why you parent each child differently. Chances are you are already marked as "The Odd Mom," if your child has RAD. Begin parenting your children differently and relationships are bound to get complicated. It becomes easier and easier to simply stay at home.

And then you (RAD Mom) take your child to therapists and doctors, each who have their own opinion of what is wrong with your child and how you should be parenting him. Since you want what is best for your child you do more research only to see you were making some mistakes. Now you need to figure out how to change the way you were parenting, without having your child with RAD feel he got the upper hand, which would be giving him the illusion that he controls you. All this thinking and talking makes your brain tired. You discuss the pro's and con's with your husband until the clock strike's midnight for the third time in less than a week. I remember telling Dean we should have been defense attorney's, since we were becoming adept at finding any loophole that B would find and figuring out how to reword and rework our plan to make it foolproof, all the while knowing he would find a way around what we said. That kind of mental workout is debilitating and parenting a child with RAD, requires constant thinking of this sort, leaving room for little else. Just staying alive, requires all your brain power. Deep inside you long for a friend but knowing you have nothing to give in return, makes you hesitant to reach out. So you remain lonely because you feel guilty asking someone to befriend you when you are so needy.

When you meet with other special needs mom's, you feel like crawling into a hole and crying because the women are talking about the services their child receives and the progress they are making, while your child who appears perfectly healthy, is regressing. You find yourself thinking "If only braces or surgery could "fix" my child." When mom's talk of bad days, you find yourself thinking, "I would be so grateful if I could just have a good moment." You wipe invisible tears and wonder why you thought it was a good idea to leave your house.

Your mommy group shares the cute things their toddlers are doing and you want to do the same, but your mind comes up blank. You can't think of anything to share, at least nothing they can relate to and the loneliness threatens to overwhelm you yet again. 

Your friends discuss houses and styles, their hopes and dreams and you want to be happy for them, but you feel as if you have nothing to add to the conversation, because you are thankful for every day that goes by without another hole being punched through the drywall... and the lonely feeling creeps over you.

  *this post is not intended to point fingers, instead I want to share how lonely it is when your child has RAD. My heart goes out to those who are "In The Trenches" and honestly do not know how they will face another day, hour or even minute. I was there and I know the pain. Thanks to those who invested in our lives when they knew they would receive nothing in return.