Preface: In adoption circles, there is a lot of talk about
"stewarding your child's story." I probably am more open than most
about some of the struggles our family faces because - in all honesty - it just
is our reality, it is not invisible to onlookers, and Reactive Attachment
Disorder(RAD)/PTSD do effect nearly every part of our life. Like other psyche
and physiological disorders, it's a real thing. In general, we have always
tried to face the "stuff" of life with an honest "realness"
that doesn't sugarcoat issues, but perseveres against them head on. We also
fully believe in dancing unashamed with joy, and taking risks that lead to
adventure! Just keep it REAL, and be ALIVE, in all life's gloriously hard highs
and lows!
Well, lately I have been sharing a lot more information about
RAD, trauma parenting, and the hard side of adoption.
WHY? Do I hate adoption? Regret it? NO. Sometimes I have FELT
that way, sure. Because it is HARD and painful sometimes. And there is loss and
grief inherent in the very nature of a child needing a home they weren't born
to. But it is also a very beautiful and absolutely NECESSARY blessing. My heart
and my passion still lie with the orphan waiting for a home, and Dan and I pray
and talk about when/how/etc we will adopt again. We still support Show Hope and
other orphan ministries with devotion. HOWEVER, our hearts also have come to
ache for the FAMILIES who will find themselves in hard places they never knew
existed with their new children.
I 100% believe that there is NOT enough BLUNT, transparent,
specific, real talk about the struggles of parenting children with trauma. I
WAS NOT PREPARED FOR HOW MUCH THIS PARENTING WOULD TURN MY WORLD UPSIDE DOWN
AND MAKE ME QUESTION SO MUCH THAT I SO EASILY BELIEVED BEFORE. I was not
prepared for RAD. I was told there would be "struggle" and that
attaching could be hard. I was told about "some" "more
extreme" cases, but details were not given about the behaviors that our
family experiences daily, relentlessly. RAD hit our family like a freight
train, and I wish to God that someone had warned me it could be this way. About
how it might effect me as a mom, and what to do - where to turn and how to
cope- when we hit "crisis" level of feeling overwhelmed by this one,
small, hurting child. In our effort not to label children with a disorder, I
think we have ultimately put them and their new families at a disadvantage.
I am just one very small voice, but...
1. I believe that speaking transparently about MY struggle is
valuable for educating others who are preparing to walk this adoption path. If
your path is easier, praise Jesus! If your path is harder, then prayerfully you
can be more prepared and proactive than I was!
2. I hope that I can encourage those who are "in the
trenches" of the battle for a very hurting child right this moment. You
are not alone when you feel like you are drowning. Someone "gets it",
and there are lifeboats.
3. Finally, whether or not you are at all connected to adoption,
I believe that God can use this and all of our stories to encourage each other
that we are not ALONE in our struggles and failures. By sharing how God
redeemed (and is still redeeming) my mess, hopefully you can renew your hope in
Him to redeem yours. We are all broken jars, trying our best to hold sacred
water. But God is the potter, and he is working to fill the gaps where we feel
most broken and empty. We all have them. Let's praise together for his gentle,
steady hand.
NOTE: Sharing this story is taking every ounce of vulnerability
and transparency that I've got. I have been repeatedly prodded by the Holy
Spirit, and inspired by Brennan Manning's book Abba's Child and the writings of
Brene Brown, which have both played a huge part in my heart journey. You might
get offended. You might not like what you see. But I hope you can be
encouraged. I'm always one for going against the flow and breaking the
silence.... So here goes:
In a recent seminar I attended on attachment parenting with
trauma kids, one of the opening assignments was to write down just ONE thing
that you wished you knew BEFORE adopting your choice of from a hard place. Then
a few people were called on - in this safe zone of other parents walking the
same road - to share what they wrote. I was shocked to find MY one thing was
not only mirrored in the comments from others, but it was talked about with the
first few slides of the PowerPoint. In a nutshell, I was NOT EVER, in my
wildest dreams, expecting to struggle with rage and hatred for my child.
Rage.
Hatred.
Not just for a fleeting second. Not just in the heat of an
argument. Too often on too many days.
For my child. My scared, scarred child with an unfathomable past,
who I felt IMMEASURABLE EMPATHY for before. The one I prayed and hoped and
longed for.
So many illusions and dreams died with the realization of these
dark feelings within me.
I wish I knew then what I know now, through readings and therapy:
that these feelings were not at the core. They were a mask. A way of coping
with the incredibly painful HURT I was feeling, but could not escape. Usually,
if a person hurts you routinely, you simply cut them out of your life. Don't
hang around them. But when that person is a child who you dreamed of parenting
your whole life... A person you can't escape and have to care for - putting
your heart back in the line of fire day after day, in a war you never expected
to last so long or take so many casualties... Well, then your unconscious tends
to switch to plan B, because feeling the hurt sometimes simply HURTS TOO MUCH.
So we get mad, blame the person, make them into a monster in our minds, or emotionally
disengage all together. Sometimes a cycle of many of these. Sometimes a little
of all of them. Being aware of the underlying hurt and FEELING IT and DEALING
WITH IT - finding new ways to cope - is like the key that unlocks the emotional
cage.
Had I understood this... So much of this could have been
different. But it's a journey....
Where to begin?
Let me unpack the meanings here.
Rage: a fiery anger that flares and consumes. Not just a little
angry, but a feeling of "going to erupt, out of control." It was
during these times that A was the MOST outwardly defiant and aggressive, which
only made me feel worse. From me in return, there was screaming and slamming
and words said that were aimed to hurt her as much as she was hurting me. Not
always, but enough to do their damage on both of our hearts.
Hatred: No, I NEVER wanted her to die a painful death, or for
something horrible to happen to her. I never stopped CARING (which itself felt
like some small, sad victory). However, my feelings against her went way beyond
"I don't enjoy you" or "you annoy me." It was a deep
loathing of her presence. I just needed to get AWAY from her. And when away,
although I cared for her safety and generally found it easier to think about
her fondly, I felt relieved and didn't miss anything about her company. Often
on bad days I scowled at her as she death-stared me. It was the "mom
look" times 100, and since she was constantly doing something to provoke
it, it was also sometimes constant scowling when I looked in her direction.
Compounding this was the fact that our praise would cause her to act WORSE, so
we were afraid - literally - to praise. It only brought more suffering and
insane behavior. So it was easier to just dislike her. She wasn't giving us
many likable moments.
But it's important to understand that the rejection and RAD
behaviors started on day 1. We did not get the reprieve of the so called
"honeymoon phase." I mean, she even tried to avoid us getting her...
All the others were lined up eagerly on the front porch, waiting for their new
Mommies and Daddies, while our daughter was still inside, refusing to get up,
get dressed, or eat breakfast. She has told us since that she didn't want us to
come. Then back at the guesthouse... The "Hell Week" started. But who
could blame her, right? Adoption can be scary for an older child! So we were
very patient. We loved, loved, loved. We gave it to Jesus. We kept reading
those Purvis books and doing our best at attachment parenting. But as the weeks
became months, then months became a year, and the behaviors only got WORSE and
scarier. It was around that time that something "turned off" in my
heart. I was HURT so DEEPLY by this child, I felt completely defeated and
depleted, and I felt ALONE. The deeper I loved her, the deeper I felt stabbed
by pain. She stole peace, and I desperately tried to keep it intact for my bio
baby, Justice.
But one day I had to admit to myself that it had been a long time
since I FELT like I loved her. And replacing that was a more fiery RAGE than I
have ever felt. She was throwing up every meal, multiple times, on purpose at
that point. It was gross, tiring, and expensive. She always looked smug. Our
cars, kitchen chairs, floor, everything... And all day she said she hated me
and wanted a new mom - ANY new mom besides ME. And she said it not in anger,
but cool as a cucumber, with a look of numb satisfaction. These were just 2 of
the constant battles we were entrenched in. Everything I asked became something
to defy. Trying to hold her, hug her, or physically bond set off a tantrum. I
was at a complete loss. And then suddenly I could no longer feel that love,
empathy, and forgiveness. I felt anger that surpassed "mad", it was
rage. I blamed HER. For her actions and these new bad feelings I was now
haunted by. I finally voiced to Dan that I had felt hatred creep in. I remember
vividly that night when Dan came home from work, and I was just spent after
another long day. I sat on the side of our bed, head in hands, and told him
"Right now, I feel like I hate her." And then I bawled, feeling
completely horrible, but yet so relieved to have finally SAID it out loud to
someone else. We knew we needed Trauma Counseling for Agape, but now we knew we
needed it for ourselves too. DAN'S
journey is different than mine, so I won't speak for him, but I was home with
her 24/7, and I was BURNT.
Let's pause to recognize that these feelings were something that
I was completely blindsided by, and never had experienced before. Sure, I
always had a quick temper as a kid, and I am definitely not a fountain of
patience, but I am generally a super joyful, high energy, optimistic person.
Not to mention, I never met a kid I didn't like! I LOVE kids: the rambunctious
ones, the stubborn ones, the rowdy ones, the crazy ones, the grumpy ones, and
of course the happy, compliant ones. They were all favorites to me! I was
always good at understanding where they were coming from, giving grace, and
continuing to love. I NEVER thought I could feel hatred toward a CHILD. I was
so defeated by shame for this. And I had to fight hard for joy. Joy has always
been a part of me. A can-do attitude, full of optimism and excitement. To feel
such negative things was startling and very frightening to me. I had no idea
what to do with it all.
-----STRUGGLING RAD MOMS, HEAR ME! If you have felt like this,
you are NOT alone or in a minority. I have learned this is not unusual. When I
first told the counselor, they didn't even flinch, just nodded knowingly and
said they hear that from parents on the journey. It shocked me! And lifted a
weight of shame. So while it is not ABNORMAL, it IS DEFINITELY a sign that it's
time for counseling. You need it. You need to get your heart, life, and joy
back. Just do it.
I want to emphatically impress upon you all how much hated and
rage and bitterness and shame and blame eat you alive inside. They steal all
that's good. They cause you to second guess who you are in God and feel like
you are losing yourself. I could not stand the fact that I felt this way, so I
largely "turned off" my feelings toward A. This guarded me against
hate, but never made room for love or delight. When the rare, sweet, good
moments did happen - and although they were rare, they did come - Dan and I
both recognized that we were at a loss to even enjoy them. We were so on guard
against our daughter. Against being hurt. So we missed the good stuff. We saw
it, but we couldn't embrace it, or feel it. It was an effective painkiller, but
a completely defeating way to live. Still, it was all we knew how to do. We
just had no idea how to FIX this, and I had no idea what was at the root of the
brokenness...
Spiritually, I was (am) in a war - for my heart, for A's heart,
and for our family's future. And I WAS FIGHTING with all I knew how: prayer,
God's Word, exercise, running, music. But nothing cut it permanently. I was
holding onto joy for Justice and largely THROUGH Justice. His smile, laugh,
hugs, and wiggles healed my heart. He loved me. He loved A. His delight was
unconditional. He brought a ray of unbreakable sunshine into our home, and God
spoke through him to me often. Justice has no clue how much he saved our family
during that time. He never will. It was all GOD working through a baby. But I
KNEW it's not good parenting/personal practice to let your identity or joy be
found in one of your children. It was another painkiller ... Maybe even a legit
medicine. But not the cure. So professional help for EVERYONE began.
Counseling helped. I
voiced my feelings - and lack of them - and I felt validated. Prayer and music
and devotions revived me at night, but then by the end of the breakfast battle
the next morning I would be empty again. Exercise has always been my outlet,
and it kept my head above water, but the stressful issues were always on my mind.
Socially, I felt (and still feel) very isolated. We have never lived so
disconnected from the social/church scene. Taking A out around others always
causes a negative spiral and backlash against us later, so we have had to take
huge steps back and be much more selective in how much and with whom and how we
socialize. So, while some things got better, we were still so far from healed.
Around this time, some of A's behaviors started to actually make
Justice unsafe, and I knew I needed more support. Through the provision of GOD
I found a few other moms on Facebook, and we formed a support/prayer friendship. They had RAD kid(s). They GOT
IT. I could talk safely. Around this time, Agape got more/different help, and
the throwing up started to recede somewhat. She started meds to help her stay
calm, and our life became more manageable. The behaviors were still maddening
(and still are) but I was not walking alone. But STILL that rage and lack of
feeling plagued me on the weak days, showing up whenever I was especially
drained.
Since then I have talked with so many other parents who are HERE.
We never imagined our kids would be so hateful to us. We underestimated the
effects of trauma and brokenness. We mourn the loss of peace, and the emergence
of these un-motherly feelings in ourselves. We ache with ...guilt... (Which is
the topic for another post) And it has only been in the last few months that I
myself have felt a renewed FREEDOM and returning peace and joy that is more
constant. I feel "recovered" as the alcoholics say. THE RAGE AND
HATRED are no longer in control and come and go as they please. I say this with
caution, because even though they are gone most of the time, the propensity to
feel them is still down there, and I need to be proactive against them. When I
am very tired and stressed by other things, my tolerance is down, and I know I
need to recharge before engaging Agape. Being more self aware and proactive
helps incredibly. I am more easily refreshed and it lasts longer. NOPE, Agape
is not "better" yet. Some behaviors are better. Some behaviors, quite
frankly, are worse. BUT I am getting
more able to love beyond "feelings."
In the midst of this hard period, our family transitioned to
talking about "love" in very determined, intentional, unemotional
terms. It helped us. Whenever Agape would tell us again how she didn't love us,
here is the usual conversation that followed: I know you don't FEEL like you
love me. I don't really FEEL like I love you right now. Right now you are
trying to be hard to love. But I DO love you, because love does not always feel
happy and easy. Love is a CHOICE to put someone else first no matter what you
FEEL about them. Love means doing what is right for the other person above your
own wants. So today, and everyday, I choose to love you. No matter how many
times you tell me that you hate me, I will feed you, clothe you, hug you, and
keep you safe. Whether or not I FEEL happy or lovey. I CHOOSE to love you.
This is not perfect love, complete love, or ideal love, but it is
- coincidentally - unconditional love. Which is actually what her name means.
Which, I wholeheartedly believe, is not at all by chance, but completely be the
design of the one who knew before he even set her in our lives that I'd need to
be reminded of and challenged by that particular kind of love on a daily basis.
[Taking a step forward into the present, I current prayer/goal is
to get to a place of true, unconditional DELIGHT in her (a feeling, not choice
or belief) that is unhindered by the "behaviors" of the moment. To
constantly see the preciousness beyond the bodily fluids and defiance. This
goal is a HUGE leap from where I was before! And on days when I feel that old
bitterness creeping in - like just happened a week or so ago - I call/message a
few select friends and prayer warriors, and I take time to get away and search
out what is REALLY going on and driving my behavior. Proactive! Healing! It can
be done!]
So here we are at the end of part 1 of the "The Ugly"
... The side of RAD and adoption parenting that remains largely shrouded in
darkness, secret, and shame. My HOPE is that if an adoptive mom out there is
reading this and going - THIS IS ME - that you can feel encouraged! You are not
alone, defeated, or a horrible person! Find friends who GET IT. Seek a GOOD
adoption therapist. Don't hide. Shame loves darkness, and it will keep you
trapped there. STEP INTO THE LIGHT. I am praying for you as I pray for myself
and my own family. 💙
This is only the beginning of the story, there is more hurt and
more healing - more ugly and new beauty - to be told… Stay tuned.
And through this all... I hope you see Jesus. Because HE IS
REDEEMING all this, and he is taking all these broken pieces and making
something new and beautiful. HIS LOVE will have the final word.
