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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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!

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.

When Your Child's Trauma Causes Parental PTSD

Trauma. What comes to mind when you hear that word? In the world of adoption, we automatically tend to think separation from birth parents, neglect, possibly abuse, and a loss of what is known and familiar.

There is more and more information and awareness being spread about this topic, but we don't hear as much about what trauma does to a family. This is probably due to the guilt factor felt by many of us who parent a child with early child hood trauma. We think, "My child has lost so much, how dare we complain about how his trauma affects us???" If you are like me, you bottle it up. You know it isn't healthy to do so, but what are the options, especially when the layers of trauma are deep and complex.

We, like many families who began fostering before there was much training on attachment and how trauma affects a child, felt that love and supplying a child's physical needs was all that was needed for said child to grow up to be an emotionally, stable individual. Thinking back on our training, I am sure we touched on this topic although it certainly wasn't front and foremost as it should have been. Instead, we learned how various drugs affect the body and how an individual who is using them, may present. We learned how to prepare our homes to pass the safety inspections, how to fill out monthly reports and that type of thing. We didn't learn what to do if a child refused to eat for days because he was mad at mom. We didn't learn how to care for a child who screamed all day, every day, nor did we learn about building an attachment with a child who had experienced the loss of all he held dear, or worse yet, never learned to attach to anyone.

With that huge gap in our training (and I am not blaming the caseworkers, they had little more training than we did) we became foster parents to children who had been exposed to drugs and alcohol, children who had been neglected, babies who had soda in their bottles rather than nourishing formula. We had children who didn't feel pain, children who didn't recognize their birth parents even though they supposedly lived with them. We had children who rocked themselves to sleep, banged their heads on the floor and ate dog food at every opportunity...and we tried parenting them in the same manner as we did our biological son. It didn't work. Time outs didn't work, ignoring the negative behavior while praising the behavior we wanted to see didn't work, we tried every type of parenting in the book, nothing worked.

Our toddlers became preschoolers and the behaviors only intensified. We added lying, stealing and manipulating to the mix and as they grew and became school age, their behaviors only became more complex. We learned about therapeutic parenting but that only brought minimal changes. We tried therapy, but had little success. 

Our children were coping in the only way they knew how,  which was by striving to be at the top of the pack by what ever means necessary. It is called survival. Someone who is struggling to survive is not worried about relationships, he isn't thinking about how his choices affect the future, he is thinking one thing only: stay alive no matter the cost to self, or anyone else. I think we have a tendency to forget that even though our child has been with us _____ years, until they heal from their past trauma's and can truly feel safe in our home, they remain in survival mode. Several of our children have been with us for nearly a decade and they still struggle in this area.

Using traditional parenting methods with children who have experienced foundational trauma, for many reasons, only intensifies the behaviors. We have a child who struggles to stay dry, consequences are not going to help her because we know it is rooted in trauma (although I have yet to figure out exactly how, although we do know traumaversaries intensify the problem). Disciplining a child for a behavior they cannot help, does not promote bonding. Another child struggled with sticky finger's, we finally realized that we had to be proactive and check pockets, shoes etc after we had been away from home because this child truly wasn't getting that taking things was wrong. He saw it and his survival brain said, "Take it." Unfortunately, it took us years of trial and error to realize that we need a different approach and the rage and irrationality that resulted from our unsuccessful methods added another layer of trauma to our family. The child who took things, just became sneakier, we became less trustful and things snowballed.

Many of our children battle mental health issue's due to their trauma. While medication's can be very useful and even absolutely necessary, they can also have undesirable side affects behavior wise that add still more trauma. These behaviors often feel as though they are directed at you, the parent, and if you respond in the wrong way it can easily cause yet another layer of trauma.

 Our children feel safest with us, even though it certainly doesn't feel that way most days. We all let our "big feelings" out with those we know will love and support us through our worst moments. This means your child may present well in public but be a handful, to put it mildly, at home. We have one child who is a master at putting on a good front. People tell me how well this child is doing and I think, "You have no idea have no idea how much effort my child is putting forth to appear put together, the meltdown's and drama are going to be tenfold in the coming days." It's enough to make me want to crawl into a hole or become a permanent hermit. The well meant comments made in my child's hearing compound her trauma as well as mine. She knows she is presenting as someone she is not, while I remember how another child's similar actions helped lead to a CPS investigation. And guess what we get? More trauma.

Eventually we as parents develop secondary PTSD because we become traumatized by our children's trauma reactions. We dread waking them in the morning because we know we will be yelled at and have abuse heaped upon our heads. If we do something nice for our child, the behaviors will intensify tenfold..so we back off, then feel guilty for steeping back from our child when their negative behavior is clearly showing they need us. But trying to build a bond means that we are subjecting ourselves to more negativity and we begin to feel resentful. Therapist's have told me time and again, "Separate the child from his actions. Love the child but not the actions." I have yet to figure out how one does that while actively building a relationship. 

Self care is a buzzword we hear about everywhere, but when you have children with severe developmental trauma/attachment disorders it is tough. I think you need to begin practicing self care when a traumatized child is placed in your home, not when the child has been with you for years and you are hanging onto your sanity by the skin of your teeth and know that any self care on your part is going to come with a price tag, behavior wise from your child, that you simply do not have the mental and emotional stamina to pay. 

You see yourself becoming a person you never intended to be. You see bitterness, pain, grief, loss, irrational responses, fear and pain. In fact, if it were possible to look into a mirror you would see you too are a victim of trauma. You are bound by the same trauma reactions that have your child reacting negatively to everything and everyone that crosses his path.

And then there are the siblings, "What doesn't break us makes us better," according to one quote, but the stakes are high when there is constant backlash from the siblings who's very existence is built on trauma. Siblings build walls and fight battles in order to protect what they love and hold dear, but trauma knows no bounds causing further erosion in already shaky relationships. Sometimes I look at my family and shake my head in wonder that we are still standing, other times I shake it in despair because the reality is, while we have made progress, we have a loooong way to go and I wonder, "Will we make it?"

Thankfully, there is more training becoming available all the time for both parents and therapists. Training that can help children heal, training that can prevent parents from using wrong methods which only cause more trauma for everyone involved. To all you parents in the trenches of parenting a child, who for whatever reason is making your life difficult, hang in there you aren't alone! Having other parents who understand that I don't hate my child when I vent my, "Big feelings," has been a life saver. Knowing if I call a friend in tears, she will assure me that I am not a failure, that the mistakes I made are redeemable and not all is lost, is such a blessing. Knowing she will sit and listen and not judge or condemn because she too has walked this path and knows it isn't as easy as giving another consequence or standing my ground, gives me the strength to get up and try again. 

" Alone we are strong, together we are stronger"

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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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The Daily Struggle Of Parenting A Child With FASD

    Does anyone else struggle with the intensity of parenting your child with FASD? Maybe it is a personal problem of mine, because I can be floating along providing the structure and support my child needs, and then I get a glimpse into the lives of those who's children do not require mom and dad to constantly be on guard to thwart a meltdown or catastrophic event, and down I go. I can't help but wonder what life would be like if we didn't have to subconsciously be on guard all the time.


Constant Supervision:

He has to ask for permission to use the bathroom -because unless he is in his room, I need to be right by his side or he WILL get into something he shouldn't. 

Ask for permission to flush said toilet -I can quickly forget he is in the bathroom and the longer he is in there, the more things he can and will find to flush down the toilet. On the days when he is dysregulated, I need to check the toilet because who feels like digging unflushable's from a full toilet?!?

Listen to make sure his door latches as he goes back to his bedroom -because he learned if he doesn't latch his door, he can sneak out of said room without my being aware and roam the house.

Check the camera that is in his room multiple times because even though his room is, "Joseph proofed," he can still get into trouble. My biggest fear is that he will accidentally strangle himself because he loves tying things around his neck. And no, he doesn't understand why this is dangerous. He loves strings, rope's etc and even though he is banned from having them, he is sly enough to sneak them into his room without getting caught.

Constant Evaluation:

The three younger children sit around the kitchen table to do their school work. If I need to step out of the room to take a phone call or even use the bathroom, I remind them of our rule, "No talking or communicating while mom is out of the room." Without fail, Joseph will talk or make make motions with his hands to get his sisters attention. When reprimanded, he melts down in tears because, "I was sitting here quietly and you say I was talking!!!" If I tell him I could hear him, he gets a sheepish look on his face and says, "Well, I did talk a little, but it was just a little bit!" There are days when he is accountable and days when his not and I have to constantly evaluate whether or not his brain is functioning well enough to tell the truth.

I can't send him on an errand out of my sight without first thinking, "Is he able to follow directions today?" Next, "Is it safe to let him go down to the basement...what is down there that he might get into? Does he have "sticky fingers" today?" 

As with many people with FASD, he doesn't have a filter on his mouth, what he is thinking comes out, much to the dismay of his siblings (and sometimes his parents). When telling him to sit quietly, we have to take into consideration his ability to actually be quiet. There are days when his mouth runs nonstop, all day long. I often tell him he has to stop talking because my ears are hurting. In actuality it is my brain that is hurting from constantly trying to decipher what it is he is trying to tell me. It is so easy to get frustrated with the continual monologue that flows from his mouth but it is unfair to show that frustration if he really cannot help it. The hard part is figuring out what he can and cannot help.

It is only when I am not responsible for him for a few hours, that I realize the huge amount of brain power that goes into keeping him safe from himself and the world around him. Someone was recently in our home for a visit and commented in an astonished voice, "He takes an incredible amount of supervision!!!" I felt like saying, "This is a good day, you should see him on a bad day." 

Caring for him is alot like parenting a toddler in an 11 year old body.
 A toddler who has no ideas of the dangers in his world. 
A toddler who is tall enough to reach the stove, the counter tops and who thinks child locks were made to dismantle.
A toddler who is too big to grab under one arm and haul out of the way of danger.
A toddler who realizes that other people will give him ten times more freedom than mom and dad, and has no qualms about going behind our backs to attain that freedom.
A toddler who doesn't understand his limitations, but is fully aware that his peers have privileges way beyond what mom and dad allow. His inability to comprehend his world and the gap between what he wants to do and what he is allowed to do, means he blames the very people who are expending a tremendous amount of brain power to keep him safe. 

It often feels like a no win situation and what is even worse, is the realization that while he is growing physically, mentally and emotionally we are only making creeping progress thanks to FASD and a gene mutation. When you know there is no end in sight, when you know things are only going to become more difficult, it is sooo hard to keep your thoughts positive and embrace the life you are called to, Many mornings find me praying for grace, strength and love because I often still feel drained from the previous days escapades.

These FB groups have been invaluable in helping my husband and I understand the intricacies of FASD, as well as providing a place where we can ask question's and share in the humor that only the fellow parent of a child with FASD would find laughable. 

-Parenting FASD Kids

-Flying With Broken Wings

-FASD Caregiver Success

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Finding Peace While Fighting Lyme

The past months have been one wild roller coaster ride. I thought I knew about Lyme after all we went through with Kiana during the last two years, but I came to find out that I had no clue, none. I didn't know how horrible the human body can feel, how rotten from the inside out. Kiana was unable to tell me how she felt beyond complaining that her head hurts or her stomach doesn't feel well. She would roll and toss on her bed, throw her body against the wall, and scream. I didn't know how to help her, and if I am honest, there were times when I felt she was being overly dramatic. I don't think that anymore, in fact, I now wonder how she kept going with how terrible she must have felt.

 Lyme has a way of putting blinders about your eye's and brain, so you can only see and focus on yourself not a good thing for a mom. I have been spending my days on the sofa, pounding Heavens Gate's pleading for answer's and  struggling to find joy and purpose in life. When I emailed a friend telling her my woes, she said, "You sound as if Pharoah's army is behind you and the Red Sea is before you! That was a pretty apt description of the terror and emotional overload that Lyme is known to inflict on those with the disease. Lyme, coupled with teaching and parenting traumatized children, was pushing me under and I felt like my prayers weren't being heard. Home schooling was/is my biggest struggle and everywhere I turned I was met with another solid wall.

Then last night Kiana came to me and said she needs to talk. This in and of itself is a huge improvement. Maybe the oft repeated message, "Use your words!" Is finally sinking in! Getting off the sofa and walking back to her room required a huge amount of energy on my part, but the poor girl has only had a shadow of a mom here of late, so I mustered up the energy to follow her. She has had some traumatic experiences in life and while some counselling would be helpful, with her it is never that easy. Anyway, she said, "Mom, sometimes I think God doesn't even care about me anymore. He keeps letting me get hurt and I am not like everyone else and it just isn't fair!" 

I had to smile to myself because I had just been having a similar discussion with God. I knew I was being irrational, but I couldn't seem to help myself, now I had my daughter looking to me for answers and I knew I couldn't just give her a glossed over reply because she really wanted help. This is what I told her, "Kiana, mom has been struggling with the same feelings. I feel like God doesn't hear me either, things just don't get better and I feel like giving up. I know exactly how you feel." We talked about sin and how God gives everyone a free will, which means people will make bad choice's, we will get hurt and bad things will happen. We will lose loved one's, our health, our friends, and there will be times when life doesn't seem worth living. I explained that Satan wants her to feel discouraged, he wants me to feel discouraged, and if we let ourselves think that God doesn't care Satan is getting the upper hand. She connected with that thought and we talked about ways we can help ourselves climb, and stay, out of the rut of discouragement even when our brain's and body's feel sick. 

When Kiana jumped over to the Lego house she had built and began showing me her newest creation I knew the crisis was over, but it wasn't only Kiana that was feeling better, I was too! Somehow having to verbalize all that, having to put my self pity aside and come up with biblical answers to her questions, made me realize just how far down the wrong trail I myself had gone. 

I saw a quote recently that said: 

"We are too prone to engrave our trials in marble, and write our blessings in sand."
                        C.H. Spurgeon

I was quite challenged by that quote because in reality, God has worked many miracle's in the past year, but instead of focusing on them I am so prone to focus on the day to day struggle of putting one foot in front of the other. So as I sit, I will count my blessings, rather than fret about the, "What if's."

Changing Ones Perspective - From Stressed To Blessed

Today was pretty awful, no change that, it was spectacularly awful. The girls were scrapping before they were even out of bed. Kiana has been dealing with some major anxiety since I got sick. She just knows I am going to die, so she has upped all her survival skills. Think lying, manipulating, pouring on the charm with people outside the family... All things that rear their ugly heads only when her past trauma comes knocking. She told Dean she is treating me so badly so it doesn't hurt as much when I die. Dean reminded her that no one who loses a loved one ever regrets the love and kindest they showed that person while they were still on earth. Last night we had a long chat with Kiana and I thought we had things cleared up. I should have known better, rationalization is not something the traumatized brain responds to.

After a chaotic breakfast we settled in to do our school work, and Joseph promptly flipped out over his math. He successfully completed third grade math last year, so I naively assumed he was ready to progress onto fourth grade. He wasn't, and math has been the source of many chaotic moments. Originally I blamed some of it on "summer brain," but in reality it is more than that. Due to FASD, he really needs to be in school year round to retain what he has learned. I cringe at the thought however, because I know full well how he would feel about that. Anyway, the first sign that something was wrong were the huff's n sighs coming from Joseph's corner of the kitchen table. Then he began verbalizing his displeasure and it went down hill from there. I realized his brain had gone too far down the FASD trail to do math, so I gave him another subject, something that sometimes works. He was having none of it though, because he wanted to do math, until I gave him the book, at which time he didn't want to do it. Books, pencils and words were sailing across the room, realizing I couldn't calm him, I put him in the shower fully clothed. For some reason, cold water will stop a meltdowns in it's tracks, he will go from screaming, kicking, hitting and throwing things, to smiling and telling us about his latest idea. Often he will stop mid scream, give us a big smile and that quickly the storm is over, except today it wasn't . Nothing helped so I put him in the pool where he swam several laps before calming down. Once back inside though, chaos resumed so I sent Dean a S.O.S. via text, essentially telling him we need professional help. He called me and suggested I put Joseph to bed with his stuffed puppy, Sport, and his weighted blanket. I did and peace ensued..... Until Kiana kicked up her heels.

Poor girl, in addition to her anxiety I am convinced her PANS is flaring again, or is it hormones?!? She melted down with a show that put Josephs meltdown to shame. Her high pitched shriek told me this wasn't just an, "I am upset with Mom," fit, it was brain inflammation. After trying all my tricks, none of which worked even the slightest bit, I took her out to the pool and had her swim laps. I texted Dean, "same pool, different rager." 

Joseph can't yell while swimming (the children can easily touch bottom, but it takes all his concentration to swim) big sister had no such problem, and the woods, and my poor ears, were ringing. I sat on the deck praying, asking God why? Why do my children have to suffer brain damage? Why do I have to home school? Why do they have to constantly face new threats to their security? At the same time I was thanking God that we live in a long drive and all our neighbors understand the circumstances surrounding the epic meltdowns that occur.

Eventually Kiana calmed down, we had lunch, Joseph was smiling again, and it was finally time for our quiet time. I sat down to sort through my feelings, read my Bible and pray because while the storms of the morning had calmed, they were still hovering on the horizon and I knew I needed to get myself grounded. I was helping Lia work through an issue when the dog started barking. A vehicle was parked in our drive. The driver had a stack of documents on the seat and he was clearly dressed up, funny what you notice when you are on high alert,  my first thought was, "Someone heard all the screaming and reported us!" Now who is being irrational?!? I quickly went over the things to remember even CPS comes knocking and typed up a text to Dean that read, "If I call you in the next moments answer ASAP!" Suddenly our answering machine picked up and I heard, "I am ______ from pest control, I am sitting in your drive, can you please get your dog?" I suddenly realized Kobi had been frantically barking all this time. I felt my heart stop it's frantic beating and all my frustration of the morning melted away. Suddenly, my overwhelming morning wasn't so overwhelming. The rages, hurtful words and actions no longer bothered me..... after all, CPS was not knocking at my door and in light of what I feared moments ago, I can handle whatever my little people dish out as they sort through trauma and deal with their limitations due to FASD. 

Perspective makes all the difference!!!

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