Processing Trauma Memories

Last night we went to get our passports, something we have talked about doing for a long time but kept pushing off.

As Dean and I sat side by side filling out paperwork a growing sense of unease filled my gut, my brain refused to cooperate and the tension grew. We were frantically filling out the forms an hour before we had to leave for our appointment, so I blamed my reaction on having to rush about.

When we got to the library and began going over the forms together. I had a flashback of the last time we sat around a table answering questions and signing paperwork. That time we were in an attorney's office signing away our parental rights, something I never dreamed we would do! 

Turns out I wasn't the only one feeling a bit traumatized. Kiana had a rough evening. Over the top giggling can signal dysregulation every bit as much as does meltdowns and raging. She went from giggling hysterically to sobbing hysterically, a sure sign that something was going on.

I finally sat her down and asked her what was wrong. Of course she gave the answer I expected, "Nothing!" I tried rephrasing my question but she wasn't ready to talk. I told her to sit and tap, which gets the two sides of the brain to communicate. My children don't like tapping when something is bugging them because their mode of coping is to bury and stuff their anxiety. They know tapping will get their brain to thinking, something they want to avoid at all costs. Of course Kiana responded to my request to tap with defiance and rage, anything to avoid complying with me.

I left her sit and rage for awhile and when I noticed she was calming down I called her over and said, "Something is bothering you, I have a good idea what it is but I want you to try to figure it out." When helping someone work through a trigger/memory it is best if they can figure out what is behind the emotion because this means they are processing the information. If you just tell them, they don't work through the steps on their own. You may need to coach the person along which is what often happens with our children, but we try to get them to do as much thinking on their own as possible.

She denied that she had any idea what was bothering her, but we have learned to know our children well enough that we usually know when they do not know the answer to a question, when they are being stubborn or when the answer is just to hard to say. Kiana's issue was obviously the latter.

I told her that I think going to sign those papers scared her. I asked why she thinks she felt so scared, and she shrugged her shoulders. "What were you thinking about when you had that scared feeling?" I asked. She mumbled, "My mom." Ahh, so I was was on the right track!

"What did your mom have to do with signing those papers?" I asked. "Maybe you were telling her how I act....." she replied. "Hmmm, and why would that make you afraid?" Her lip was trembling so I waited until she whispered, "You might give me back to her."

I had figured that was her problem all along but I didn't want to give her any idea's, plus as I said before, it is best if the person works through their problems themselves. We went over the how's and why's of adoption again and Kiana burst out, "It is just like buying and selling animals! You buy an animal and then you sell it again, adoption is the same way!"

I left her talk for awhile then said, "Since you are comparing adoption to selling animals, let's think about it. If a cow has a calf and won't let her drink milk, is it better to give the calf to a cow who will take care of her or should the farmer leave the calf die?" She didn't hesitate, "You should give her to a cow who will take care of her!"

"Right, because a little calf will die without milk to drink. How about when the calf is half grown and can take care of herself some of the time. Should the calf go back to her birth mom or stay with the mama who has been taking care of her all along?" Kiana started to say, "She should stay with the mom who is taking care of her," but suddenly realized where the conversation was heading and back pedaled. "She should go to her birth mom!!!" Let me add here that Kiana, like many adopted children, has an attachment with her birth mom and would like to live with her but at the same time fears having to go back. It is a complicated emotion for a child to work through.

"What if the calf's birth mom still has a hard time caring for her?" I asked next. Kiana said quietly, "I guess she should stay with the mom who has been taking good care of her."

I agreed then said, "Did we ever get rid of a child?" Kiana's eye's welled with tears and she nodded, "Braden left." 

"Yes he did," I agreed, "But do you remember why he left?" Kiana said, "Because he had a big hurt in his heart." 

"Who else has a big hurt in their heart?" I asked. "Me," Kiana whispered. "That must be a scary feeling," I acknowledged. "Did you know that when Braden left he didn't even cry? He was so happy to be moving to a new family." 

"He is mean!" Kiana cried. "No Kiana, he was hurting," I  said and went on to explain attachment in as simple words as I could.

"It is really hard for mom to explain, but someday when you are older you will be able to understand," I finished. "For now you have a choice, trust mom when she says that you will never go to a new home, but it was the best thing for Braden; or don't trust mom and let your worry and fear grow bigger."

"I will try to trust you, but it is really hard!" Kiana said. 

We ended our conversation with our usual hugs and she seemed to feel better but I know this will be an ongoing conversation. 

Sometimes I can't help but wonder why must life be so difficult for the children God has entrusted into our care. So often I feel as though I am bumbling along making things worse instead of better, but then I remember that God can take my feeble efforts and bring healing to hurting hearts.

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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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What Would We Do Differently If We Could Have A Redo?

This picture came up in my FB memories this morning. Many pictures of him make me feel sad and sick at heart but this one is precious. I remember taking this picture after a particularly rough day although I can no longer remember what made it tough. Dean and I were determined to show him that we love him but we didn't understand that while you can show all the love you want, unless a child feels that love, it will not fulfill it's intended purpose.

This was before we knew about TBRI and the need to parent traumatized children differently. We knew that what we were doing wasn't working but had no idea what to do next. We didn't know about FASD and how it clouds and distorts a persons view of the world. We parented him just like we were raised and this does NOT work for our children from hard places. 

It is hard to look back and see all the mistakes we made. I am often tempted to wonder if things would be different if only we had known back then what we know now. Would we be a family of 7 instead of a family of 6? How much healthier would our children be if they hadn't been through a CYS investigation and adoption disruption? How much more trusting would Dean and I be? But my mind always goes full circle and I come back to the fact that we honestly did the best we knew with what we had and "our" little boy is having his needs met with his new family in ways our family never could have provided.

So if we could go back, if we would be granted a redo, what would we do differently?

- Attend a training in TBRI before bringing traumatized children into our home.

- We would bring one child into our home at a time and make sure they are fully bonded and secure before bringing in more children

-We would keep our interactions with the outside world to a bare minimum the first months.

- We would do our best to Meet Our Child At His Level versus the level on which his peers are at

- We would practice Felt Safety

- We would realize that Love Is Not Enough

- We would be on the lookout for Trauma Triggers, realizing that what appears to be negative behavior may actually be a trauma trigger

But despite all the things we wish we would have done differently and the many times we fall into the "why us" mentality, we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that There Is Safety In Being In The Center Of God's Will

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Even If

I have had a jumble of thoughts whirling through my brain these past few days, along with a need to write a blog post but nothing came out right. It always sounded whiny or fake, two things I cannot abide! I wrote and deleted numerous posts, everything from Thanksgiving, to memories of Braden since it has been 3 years since he had his first home visit and 2 years since we made "The Visit" to TAP. None of it sounded right. A few moments ago a post with this song popped up and I was like, "That song is just what I have been trying to say without success!"

EVEN IF

They say sometimes you win some

Sometimes you lose some.

And right now, right now, I'm losing bad

I've stood on this stage night after night

Reminding the broken it'll be alright

But right now, right now I just can't

It's easy to sing

When there's nothing to bring me down

But what will I say 

When I'm held to the flame

Like I am right now

I know Your able and I know You can

Save through the fire with Your mighty hand

But even if You don't

My hope is in You alone

They say it only takes a little faith 

To move a mountain

Well good thing

A little faith, is all I have right now

But God, when You choose

To leave mountains unmoveable

Oh give me the strength to be able to sing

It is well with my soul

I know Your able and I know You can

Save through.......

-Mercy Me

This song perfectly portrays our current circumstances. Life is hard, so very hard and sometimes we ask, "Why Lord?" But underneath it all, we can say, "It is well with my soul," and in the end that is all that matters.

It is well even though Braden is no longer ours and as time moves on and we heal, the what if's and if only's are right there to torment me.

It is well even though FASD may affect more children in our family than we ever dreamed.

It is well even though our teen age son struggle's with the particular battle he has to fight, the battle of traumatized siblings.

It is well even though there are days when the sun refuses to shine and the clouds of pain and sorrow hang heavy over our home.

It is well because of JESUS! It is well because we know that he has a plan for everything that comes our way even when we cannot fathom why we have to continue wading through tough situations.

Even if God doesn't provide the relief we are asking for, we know he will provide the strength to go one more step, one more moment, one more day.

Even if our children make choices that hurt themselves and others when we yearn to provide for them, God knows we tried, and we know God loves them more than we ever could.

Even if we feel forsaken on every side due to the trauma that our family has endured, God will provide. He has never failed us yet. When life seems too hard, He reminds us of  reasons to live, to keep on keeping on.

Claiming My Circus

October always brings back memories of Braden, as this is the month the ICPC paperwork went through and he could move to his new family. As time goes on we tend to forget how hard things were and grief on a new level sets in.

I was feeling rather defeated yesterday so I burned some candle's to brighten the day.

Tristan gave this candle for my birthday

Flowers from a friend

We have bunnies once more! They are cute when they are little but like all animals, they grow up and the cuteness disappears.

I bought a Go Fish game with the alphabet on the cards to help Lia with her sounds. Some days she can put sounds together and read words, other days they may as well be Greek.  I will admit seeing her on again, off again learning ability took some accepting because I know what is behind it.

Kiana had a rough week again. The other week she had a crisis and we realized we need to keep her talking to keep her from getting so low. Easier said than done as getting her to talk brings on floods of  tears and rages. We did pretty good for a few days then slowly slacked off and guess what happened? Down she went! It was building up all week and threatened to erupt on Thursday but we went to Grandma for lunch which forced her to get on top of things. Yesterday she spent the day huddled in her blanket because I couldn't get her to talk. Because of her issues with me as her mom Dean can get her to talk much better than I can. In her mind, unreasonable though it may be, I am the source of her troubles. Last Saturday it took till midnight till she finally gave in and told us what we really going on. Last night it only took a little over an hour so maybe we are making a little progress! She keeps saying, "I wish I could feel good again, I want to be like other girls!" 

Kiana had an appointment with her Lyme doctor on Friday and she said she had recently attended a Lyme Summit where they mentioned that the essential oils oregano, cloves and cinnamon have, in some people, suppressed Lyme even more than antibiotics. She said there is no scientific studies out to prove it but she felt it was worth a try, especially since those oils won't cause any harm. We are waiting for the results for the coinfection tests as I failed to include some info which delayed the results. Was so frustrated with myself! 

Joseph has been reacting to Kiana's decline with meltdowns of his own. Sometimes when they are both going off at once I wonder who's circus I stepped into. :) Tristan keeps saying he feels sorry for me (most of their rage is directed towards me) I told him that I don't take it personally as I know they are letting out their pain in the only way they know how. He can't understand how I am not offended by the things they yell at me and I have a hard time explaining why it would hurt if he said the things they say but when they tell me I am a stupid old lady, I just brush it off and wait for the hug I usually get when the storm has passed.

I have learned (or am learning) to embrace the circus and joyfully claim the monkeys!

To the Placing Parents in a Second Chance Adoption - A Letter To Parents Who Disrupt An Adoption

Disrupting an adoption is not something anyone ever dreams of when they adopt a child. It is an isolating, painful experience, one that calls into question your morals and everything you believe about adoption. Many times parents are condemned publicly when they make the decision to disrupt an adoption, but once in a while someone comes forward and offers hope and comfort instead of complicating the pain. 

A kind person wrote and sent this letter to the re adoption agency we used. I was thrilled to receive permission to share it on my blog.

To the Placing Parents in a Second Chance Adoption,

I know the pain you feel on a daily basis. You waited and waited for this day and now, you can’t understand why this child, who has lived with you for a long time now, still feels like a stranger in your home. Good days feel like you’re babysitting for a friend, who is never coming to get her child. There is no end in sight. Most days feel like you’re fighting a losing battle, never making any ground when it comes to the destructive behaviors your child is battling. One step forward, ten steps back.

You have worn out the knees in your pajamas, having asked the Lord so many times, “what am I doing wrong?”
 You have made the brave and difficult decision to place your adopted child in a secondary adoptive home and now, you have to endure the hurtful comments from complete strangers who have no idea what life is like for you. They know not the circumstances surrounding this decision. They certainly have not been in your shoes, for if they had, they would know that the heartbreak of losing a child is almost more than a parent can bear, lest it be compounded by the horrible words of others.

Friend, listen to these next words carefully. “This is not your choice.” A friend of mine recently faced the horrible decision of having to take her husband off life support. Her pre-teen daughter blames her for her father’s death. Was this her choice? No. There was no choice in the matter. Sure. She could have insisted that they keep him on life support, racking up millions of dollars in medical debt in order to preserve a life that was filled with pain and misery, or she could allow her husband’s time to be up, knowing the hope of Heaven. There was no choice here.

Likewise, this is not your choice. You have done so much for your adopted child. Those first few months of adjustment are difficult enough, but you threw yourselves into them. The fanfare of finally getting that child home to you was over within what felt like seconds. Rejoicing quickly turned into sleepless nights, terrors, tantrums, hoarding, stealing, biting, kicking and screaming. You knew this would happen. You were trained for this. You pray it’s short-lived. You commit yourself to getting through this with your child and helping him heal. You know it’s what God has called you to do. You quit your job to stay at home with him. You spend your days at occupational therapy, physical therapy, speech therapy, behavioral therapy, ESL classes, doctor appointments, IEP meetings and extra-curricular activities to help him build friendships.
You see enormous progress at school and with friends. All of your friends think he’s just the cutest little thing. They assure you that he is such a great kid and is doing so well for having such a tough start in life, but they didn’t see you and your husband cradling him like a baby trying to keep him from hurting himself as he raged last night. They haven’t seen the hundreds of tear-stained pages in your prayer journal. They haven’t seen the havoc this sweet child has wreaked upon your marriage and how much your other children are suffering through this disruption to their family.
 No, ignorant bystanders, this is not about other children in the family being selfish. This is about their well-being being threatened too, sometimes physically, sometimes psychologically, usually, both.

What you, the parent who has loved this child through thick and thin and let down your guard so you can throw yourself into loving this child like your own, understands is that this is not your choice because this is not what is best for your child. This life? It’s not what is best for him. Is it best for him to be in a situation in which he can hurt other children so deeply that he scars them for life? He also has to live with the choices he makes. Is it best for him to be in a family of [in his mind] villains who stole him from everything he knew? There are some wounds that time will not heal.
 So, placing parents, the same way much of society applauds a woman who has chosen life for her baby, but loves that child enough to know that she can’t give him the life that is best for him, so bravely places her child in an adoptive home, we ought to be applauding your bravery too.

I have not been in your shoes; however, I have been a foster mother who hoped to adopt a child placed in our home. It wasn’t the right fit and our family had to say, “goodbye” to the boy who we threw ourselves into loving like our own.

When you place your child for a second chance, you are suffering a loss for which there is no script. Very few understand that kind of pain. You have lost your child. You grieve that loss like a death, but there is very little support. Very few people understand that this was not your choice.

This was not your choice.

You may not be the right family for this child permanently, but you were the right family for a time. He needed you. You have done the hardest of hard. You have poured yourself into a child who may never understand or appreciate any of it and then, you did what only the bravest can do—you put your child’s needs ahead of your own. You endured heartbreaking judgment and private pain that never ends so your child could have a life that you could not give him. That, my friends, is the stuff heroes are made of!

I pray the author will be blessed for writing such a beautiful letter. It says all the things I couldn't find the words for.

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.

Two Big Questions Christians Face When Considering Adoption Disruption

An unexpected blessing that came out of one of  the toughest decisions we have ever had to make, that of disrupting an adoption, is the many wonderful people I have the opportunity to connect with via email and phone calls. I thrive of helping others who are in situations that they feel are hopeless. That is probably due in part to the intense relief and gratitude we felt when others have been there for us over the years.

 Two questions come up time and again when I am talking with people who are considering disruption. The questions are ones that I wrestled with at one time or another over the years B was in our home and when we were trying to decide if we really had dissolved all our options in seeking help for our family.

The first question is, "My husband is not ready to take this step, but I feel like I am drowning," or if I am speaking with the father, I usually hear, "My wife says I have to choose between her and the child."

My answer to this question is to explain why a child targets his/her primary caregiver, which is usually mom. Mothers are the nurturer's, they are the ones who hug and kiss the scraped knee's and stubbed toes. She is the one children go to when they need extra love and support. Naturally as a mother, when a new child comes into your home, you want to do all you can to bring healing and happiness to this hurting child. But many times, the child has already learned that the world is an unsafe place. He has learned to hurt others before they can hurt him, especially in regard to adults. The harder mom tries to get close to the hurting child in her care, the harder he is going to push against her. For various reasons, dad  doesn't often receive this same treatment. For one the child typically doesn't spend as much time with dad, thus the threat of a relationship building is not as great. Second the child knows part of keeping mom at bay is getting between her and dad so if he is mean to mom and but is a sweet charmer when dad is around, he will cause conflict between them.

The second question I hear is, "Is it right for Christians to disrupt an adoption? The Bible tells us if we trust in God, he will supply all our needs. Does the fact that I am struggling so badly indicate that I don't have enough trust?" I wrestled with this question for a long time. As Christians we are brought up on the concept that God is all we need, making us feel like their is something wrong with us spiritually when we come up against a block wall. When that wall is being unable to build a relationship with a child, you feel really helpless and like the worst kind of person. When I brought the verse from Philippians 4:19 into the equation, Dean told me that perhaps finding a new family for a child is God's way of supplying our need's. God doesn't always answer prayer the way we think or even wish he would, sometimes he allows us to go through things that feel so twisted and complex that there seems to be no way out, so he can reveal his awesome power. I am in no way suggesting that disruption is something that should be done lightly but there are times when a fresh start is the best gift you can give a struggling child. 

We were told that sometimes a child who is not doing well in a particular family, feels he is unable to move beyond the pain he has brought upon his family. In such instances, a fresh start may be all he needs to succeed. 

 Another reason many family's are led to disrupt is because the child is abusing younger siblings. Moving a child to a new family where he is the youngest child, thus not faced with the opportunity to re-offend, may be what he needs to begin healing. 

Sometimes one or both parents are ageing or in ill health. A child who has RAD/attachment issues will not feel safe with someone whom he knows is not strong enough physically to keep him safe from himself. Many of these children, if they were able to reach deep enough inside and were willing to acknowledge it, would admit they are scared of themselves. They are longing for someone "strong enough" physically and emotionally to stand up to them and keep them safe.

Sometimes a parent will remind a child of their abuser, through no fault of the parent. Body language, tone of voice, hair color....many things can remind a child of the person who once hurt them and while they know this is a different person, they are still triggered and unable to heal. In such situations finding the child another family, a family where he is not daily triggered may be all it takes for him to move on in life.

Finances play a large part in the equation of  parenting children with attachment disorders. This is no run of the mill issue that will resolve itself. It requires years of therapy, inpatient treatment, psychiatric medication and typically, therapy for the rest of the family who is on the receiving end of the child's pain and abuse. Finding affordable care along with knowledgeable staff who can invest the time and emotional energy required to help these children heal is tough. Many family's simply can't afford it.

These are just a sample of the many things parents and their hurting child are up against. As parents, we are charged with keeping our children safe both emotionally and physically.Sometimes that protecting involves finding the child a new home, a home where he has the opportunity to succeed.

Updates, Memories And An Educents Sale

Three years ago today, my sister and I were leaving to pick B up at TAP for his first home visit. I remember how nervous I was. 

For one, I was making the 3 hour drive myself for the first time, driving on 6 lane highways was a new experience for me! 

Also I was terrified Dean and I would somehow undo the progress B made at TAP. For the first time we were getting a glimpse of the little boy hidden beneath the pain and trauma. That little boy was a lovable little chap, one I could easily bond with and I was so scared we would do something to send him back into hiding.

  I am glad we couldn't see into the future. The few home visits B had that were a success were enough to show us he could heal and that we were not doing anything that was "making him this way." Which as anyone who has parented a child with RAD will tell you, is exactly what we fear...that this child's problems are somehow our fault.

 Joseph had a rough day on Sunday. We have no idea what happened. Things were getting scrambled on their way from his brain to his mouth and hands. Monday I was called into school twice because he was melting down. Thankful for friends who can take Lia on the spur of the moment while I go to school. This same friend served us lunch when I returned from the first meltdown, what a blessing!

  Yesterday I spent the afternoon with 15 energetic 5 and 6 year old's. I signed up to be the class mom for Kindergarten as I naively thought my life would be less hectic when my children were all in school. It was a joy watching their excited faces as we played games. They are so vibrant, enjoying life to the fullest. I took my camera along but it never made it out of my purse! Yet another friend took it upon herself to make supper for us. The food was delicious and it was another reminder that God cares, because yesterday afternoon was anything but peaceful around here so we probably would have had a frozen pizza. 

  

                  Kiana's class made these cute turkeys at their Thanksgiving party. 


Notice the sparkle in her eye's? It is coming back!!!! We are thanking God for antibiotics! While she still has a long way to go, she is certainly making progress. I no longer cringe when I ask her to do a chore, she plays nicely with Lia again and the screaming has pretty much gone away. Our little girl is coming back again!

Kobi waiting for the school children to come home. every afternoon around 3:15 he climbs up on the stump to wait for them.

I joined up with an educational group called educents. They have toys/learning aids for home schooling as well as special needs children. Check them out, they have some awesome sales going on right now.

http://www.educents.com/holiday-gift-collections#smomof4

*contains affiliate links

A Year Of Healing And Pain

A year ago B's ICPC paperwork was approved which meant he could move to his new family. I still remember how I felt when Dean told me, like I was suffocating, drowning, dying... something of the sort. We were expecting to have the paperwork approved at any time but when it actually happened, I discovered I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was.

 There are days I am amazed at how badly it still hurts when I think over the past 8 years, other times I am just as amazed at how much healing has taken place. 

   The memories feel like a bad dream until I feel the physical pain that goes with emotional trauma. Then I know it wasn't a dream at all, it really did happen.

  We are reliving the pain through memories but we don't have the adrenaline rush to cushion the hurt like we did when these things were happening. I think that is at least partly responsible for the exhausted and overwhelmed feeling I get just from living life. 

  So are we in a better place than we were a year ago? Absolutely! Do we have a long way to go? Absolutely!

  Thanks to everyone who remembered us this month. The prayers, gifts and flowers mean more than we can say

These beautiful flowers come from a friend from CA. This friend has her plate more than full, but she took time out of her day to bless us. Lia was disappointed to hear the flowers did not get an airplane ride even though the giver lives in CA.

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.

When The Mountain Is Big, Bigger Is Our God - Thoughts On Dissolution

    Yesterday marked 6 years that Dean and I stood before the judge at a local courthouse and promised to love and care for two little boys as our own flesh and blood. 

  

 I remember the high hopes we had that day, hopes that one of our sons would be able to bond with us now that he was permanently ours, surely he would feel more secure when he realized he was ours forever? Little did we know that the very act of adoption would only make things worse. I thought perhaps we were the only parents naive enough to think adoption would make our child feel secure enough to bond, but last night I was reading various articles on RAD and FASD when I realized many parents have this same hope. We didn't understand then that the added closeness of adoption was exactly the opposite of what B wanted, it terrified him. Poor boy, we didn't know!

  

    This year is a year of firsts for us. B's first birthday without us and the first anniversary of finalization are only a few. I was feeling very melancholy yesterday as I tried to sort out the emotions churning in my heart. I am finding as the months pass, I temporarily forget the pain and fear caring for B brought, things I thought I would never forget. Truly time is a great healer, but I know there will always be an ache when we think of B. As I was typing this post, I heard this song playing and while B hasn't
"gone on before," our hearts still grieve a huge loss and this song resonated with me.

 They say tears are a language of the heart,

That when in pain words are only in part.

How could we ever measure our love,

Oh we miss you and we long for your touch.

When the mountain is big, bigger is our God!

He see's the greater picture from the start,

The crisis is a platform where his grace is perfected,

When the mountain is big, bigger is our God!

They say there's nothing that's to big for our God,

 But when in the valley its so hard to see the top.

The tears we cry are bitter sweet but with thanksgiving,

Cause we're still with the dying and your now with the living.

Jesus conquered death and now it's a stepping stone for the Child of God to reach that heavenly home.

When the mountain is big, bigger is our God, 

He see's the greater picture from the start. 

The crisis is a platform where his grace is perfected, 

When the mountain is big, bigger is our God...

                          -Amos Raber

Shared on Faith Filled Friday Link Up

The Blessings Of Faith

  Yesterday at church the minister shared Joshua 3. He spoke about the faith the priests needed when Joshua commanded them to cross the flooded Jordan River. We know the whole story and view it as a miraculous account, but the priests didn't know how the story would play out. They only knew what they had to do and by faith they had the courage necessary to follow through.

"It is faith alone, in Christ alone, which moves God, when you are alone."  Rex Rouis

    I remember when Dean and I had to make some tough decisions about B's future. We felt so alone. We sought advice from others, but at the time we didn't know anyone who had disrupted an adoption, so no one could share their personal story with us. We knew God promises to guide us if we pray in faith but the enemy was always there, showering us with doubts and fears. If we were making a decision no one had made before, surely we were wrong, right?

   We knew B couldn't remain at TAP, nor could he come home, so we prayed, asking God for direction and he graciously provided it in the form of an article on my FB page. This story showed up on my page one day and as I read the article, I felt God saying, "Here is your answer." Dean and I talked about it, prayed, I did some research and we continued to feel that this was the path God wanted us to pursue. 

"Faith expects from God what is beyond all expectation." Andrew Murray

  Dean encouraged me to call Cyndi and get some more information on their program. I made the call with fear and trembling, after our bout with CPS, I had a healthy fear of people misinterpreting our desire to help B. I needn't have worried, Cyndi was so kind and by her questions I knew she intimately understood my pain, she didn't condemn me or ask me why we didn't try this, that or the other thing. She didn't ask me how we could ever consider getting rid of our child, as so many others had done. 

  We were certain God was directing us to pursue Cyndi's program but making that phone call took an incredible amount of faith and courage. The quote, "If God brings you to it, he will also bring you through it," came to mind as I dialed Cyndi's number. I was afraid but the peace that passeth understanding was present as well. The same peace we felt when we were working with CPS and had to answer their accusations, was present assuring me this was God's will.

   I don't know if making the decision to disrupt an adoption should even be likened to the priests crossing the Jordan River, but I do know the God who was guiding and directing them so long ago, is still on the throne. When you have a seemingly impossible task ahead, pray in faith and God will answer. The peace and assurance God gives when you are facing some of life's toughest problems is beyond description. To know that God is leading and directing your footsteps brings such peace and joy that trials can begin to feel like blessings.

What Is It Like To Disrupt An Adoption?

   Disruption is almost a byword in adoption circles. In fact, as much as I read up on adoption and related topics, I wasn't even aware such a thing existed until a few years ago. Then I was of the persuasion that it was something illegal. The poor children were handed off to strangers and never heard from again, or something of that sort. Sadly, there are cases where it does happen, probably more than we are aware of but it isn't always like that. 

  People seldom outright ask what it is like to go through a disruption, but we do get asked some pretty pointed questions from time to time. Let me say right here that we don't mind these questions. I would much rather people ask, than assume.

  Enough of that, here are some of the things that I wish someone else would have shared, so we would have had an idea what to expect while going through the process of disruption. However, I do realize every situation is different and every parent will experience their own particular emotions and triggers.

    You will feel guilty, like a failure. I can't help but think, maybe we should have tried harder, or if we would have done xyz, things might have been different.

     I am tempted to feel like I failed the Christian adoption world. We, who are supposed to be the hands and feet of Christ, to love the unlovable, turn around and disrupt an adoption? What about the Bible verse, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me?" 

    Do you know how many people will have the same name as the child who's adoption you disrupted? Seriously, I think B's name must be the most popular name in town. I know it isn't and I only think I hear it so often because it always stirs up memories.

   You will hear a child scream and break out in a cold sweat, then an intense relief will wash over you, as you realize the child isn't your responsibility.

   You will need to talk about what happened, especially if you are like me, and process things best by talking through them time and again. 

  When you sign the papers to relinquish your parental rights, you will have emotions unlike anything you have experienced before. I remember feeling like a criminal.

  Odd things, like a shirt, hole in the wall or a notice with your child's name on it, will send you into spasms of tears, fear or both.

    You will let your breath out and be able to relax for the first time since you realized what you were up against. Looking back you will be amazed at the level of hyper vigilance you needed to maintain to keep everyone safe. You will wonder how you ever did it.

  You will feel a huge sense of loss, something you may not anticipate. I struggled with an inner pain I couldn't identify. Dean helped me realize I was grieving the loss of dreams, the loss of hope. Before the disruption, we always had hope that things would get better, now that hope is gone.

    Depending upon the situation, you will have PTSD. You will remember things that happened. Things you had forgotten because your brain was protecting you by allowing you to "forget" while to you were putting all your energy and mental power into making it through each day.

    You may feel cut adrift. I felt like I was laying down in surrender after giving everything I had to win a war. It felt wrong, like I was willingly giving in to the enemy.

  You will feel relief, then feel guilty for feeling relieved. 

  You will wonder who you are. For years I was a "RAD mom." I had a close bond with other women who were in the trenches as well, suddenly I was no longer one of them, but who was I? I still find myself wondering who I really am.

   You will be tired, oh so very tired. Even though B wasn't living at home prior to the disruption, the situation weighed heavily on our minds. If your child was at home prior to the disruption, the sudden lack of need for constant supervision, the need to out think and out smart the manipulative child, will leave you feeling exhausted.

  Panic will wash over you when you realize you don't know where your child is and what he is doing. Just that quickly you will remember, and the relief that washes over you will leave you feeling dizzy.

   

  

  

   

    

Our First Christmas After An Adoption Dissolution

      Christmas is all about love and forgiveness, two things that we as Christians are called to practice. Two things that can bring a lot of pain and guilt when you have recently disrupted the adoption of a child whom you fully intended to call your son as long as God grants you life.

   Last night after the children had gone to bed Dean and I talked about B and tried to make sense of our emotions.

So what is the first Christmas after disruption like?  To answer that question, here is a glimpse into our lives the past weeks.....

 When we sat down to open presents and a child counted everyone and said, "We are all here." My heart ached.

When a mom took her life a few weeks before Christmas because it was just "too much." I shivered because I know her desperation all to well.

When someone gave us a special gift, to let us know they care, we felt blessed.

When we took family pictures and ours has four children instead of five, I cried.

When I read a joyful adoption announcement, I felt torn inside. I want to be happy for them but instead I feel fear.

When I was folding socks and saw Josephs threadbare socks I was reminded that he used to get the hand me downs from two big brothers, not anymore.

Other years we had three children the same age for the last week of December and the first two weeks of January, but not anymore.

When I face another day of sitting on the sofa doing nothing because it hurts to move and I am so tired, I battle bitterness.

When Lia told a new friend, "I have two brothers and one sister," I want to tell the woman that we used to have three boys.

When someone told me, "You need to do what is right for your family," when talking about Christmas plans, my heart was warmed.

When I took Joseph for an evaluation, I was reminded of the many, many such appointments I attended for B. All those new doctors I took him too, all the times I asked the doctor questions to see how much they really understood about RAD. I feel as if all the time and headaches were for naught.

 When Joseph has, "a moment," and I am thrown back in time to another little boy who looked just like him, I panic and tell Dean I need some space. Dean calmly takes over and I have a good cry.

When I sweep my family room floor and remember B helping Dean put it in place, my heart hurts.

When I cleaned my kitchen chairs and saw the teeth marks on the back of a chair, I remember the rage that produced those marks and thank God that we have moved beyond that time in our life.

Whenever B's name comes up, I cry. Somewhere I read this quote: You know you have healed from your pain when talking about it no longer brings tears. Sometimes I think I cry more for B now than I ever did while he was at home.

When all the children are playing peacefully, I thank God because it wasn't always this way. B couldn't tolerate peacefulness so he intentionally caused chaos.

....and that is how we felt this Christmas season.... 

Blessed - because of God's Gift of Jesus

Sad - because we are a family of 6 instead of 7

Guilty - because this was never how it was supposed to be.

Relieved - because the responsibility of parenting B is no longer our's

Weary - because of all the emotional pain of the past years.

Thankful - because God found a family that is able to meet B's needs when we no longer could.

At The Cross Roads, When Is It Time To Change The Goal's When Parenting A Child With RAD?

A little over a year ago Dean and I went to TAP (The Attachment Place) to discuss B's future. We as parents take our children's future into our hands every day when we make decisions for their care and schooling, but this was different. 

   We knew the words that were said that day would make a huge difference in B's life, they could shift the scales towards healing or take away his only chance of healing.

   When do you say, enough? Is it morally right to hand over your child to another set of parents? What is our obligation to this child, especially since we promised to love and care for him....or could finding him a new family be considered loving him?

   We analyzed the situation from every angle, prayed over it, talked to doctors, psychiatrists, therapists and "experienced parents." 

   Here is what we came up with, in part:
-B did not trust us, because I took him for visits with his bio parents who had hurt him. In his childish mind, I wasn't protecting him. He was guarding his heart when he came to us and those visits proved what he knew all along, adults are not to be trusted.
-The other children were losing trust in us because we weren't keeping them safe from B.
- 4 years of therapy, 2 of those years were intense therapy hadn't been enough to break through his barriers.
- Children with FASD cannot understand cause and effect so he didn't have the ability to link his behavior with consequences and felt that the world was out to get him.
-Medication didn't help his anxiety. Children with FASD metabolize medication differently than you or I, which makes it very difficult to find something that works.
-Nurture helped as long as it wasn't Dean and I offering the nurture. Remember he didn't trust us.
-He knew he had wronged his siblings and even though they forgave him, they couldn't trust him and he wasn't emotionally healthy enough to work at regaining their trust. 

In the midst of it all was the fear that we had failed him. God knew how hard we tried, how many prayers ascended to the throne on B's behalf and how many gallons of tears we cried. In spite of it all, B hadn't healed, that meant we failed. Such a bitter word, FAILED! 

We knew that for B to heal he would have to be in a place where he was able to take in love and nurture. A place where he could make a fresh start........ But that meant letting go of our hopes and dreams..... it meant a future without us playing a major role in B's life, it meant we had failed.

   RAD is hard, tough, yucky, stressful and among the very worst of childhood mental disorders. We have very few good memories of B but he was ours and even though many days found me in tears and pain, we had hope that things would get better. Maybe a new therapy would be discovered, something that would reach the little boy locked inside...maybe B would open his heart just a bit and we could wiggle inside and help him heal....

That November day found us facing the bare facts, B didn't and most likely would never trust us. We had tried medication, therapy upon therapy, out of home treatment, taken him to more doctors and for more evaluations than I can count and we still couldn't bring him home.

 Now what? We had tried harder for years, was it time to look away and pass on the responsibility?

The weight of the decision we knew we had to make concerning of B's future, felt overwhelming. We felt inadequate to make the call that would forever change our lives as well as B's.

 We prayed that if it was God's plan for B to move on, that he would have someone step forward. We laid out our fleece before him, then stepped back to see what would happen, we stepped back while fear bit and snarled at our heels like a wild animal. What if no one came forward? What if....???

 Several weeks later, the call that changed our lives and B's future came...there was a family who met all of our specifications and more and they wanted to give B a home. This family was as perfect as humanly possible. God had provided. For so long we felt like Abraham, offering our "Issac," wondering how God would provide and when he did, we were awe struck. Like Dean said, "It makes you feel really small, when God comes through and gives you more than you even thought to ask for."

B has been with his new family for several weeks and now we are trying to piece our lives back together. Trying to find a new normal amidst the feelings of relief, guilt and grief. Like every other grieving person, we have days where we praise God for his goodness, days where the sun shines and our hearts rejoice. But then there are days where the sun is hidden behind black clouds of pain and we battle the inevitable emotions that flood over us. There is also all the trauma from the past years to work through. When we were too traumatized to process it, the pain got stuffed into corners and now it is coming out in force. I am continually amazed at the clarity of the memories. I literally feel like I am in the midst of the scene's I remember. My heart races, I break out in a cold sweat and panic sets in. My hope is that as time passes those scene's will fade and we can move on. 

But for now, we still cry and I write jumbled blog posts..... signs that we have a good deal of healing ahead of us! :)