November is National Adoption Month.
I've tried to write this multiple times, but I've just been in a very weird mood for most of 2017- a mood strongly related to adoption- and I worry it's coming off dark and twisty.
Shew.... feelings. Big ones. If you are going to read this, please hear it from a place of truth- our truth. I'm (probably)(over)sharing because I think it's important.
People message me allll the time about their interest in adoption and I'll admit that for the last several months, I've been a little off-putting to some of them. I really don't mean to be rude, it just seems some people are looking for fairytales and I ain't got 'em.
Adoption is beautiful because choosing to love people no matter what is beautiful.
Adoption is also hard, messy, complex, and a bunch of other stuff- for all parties.
Most years I write about this and earnestly tell you that adoption is just not at the forefront of our life. "Adoptive family life"is just ... uh, life. Adoption doesn't define our days and we don't eat/sleep/breathe adoption. Usually.
Because this year is different. And right now, we kinda do.
This year, adoption meant four extra kids in our room. Mattresses have covered our floor for months and every night is a fruit-basket turnover, not knowing who will land where. Lots of kids sleep in their parents' room, but this isn't the same. This is deep, desperate
fear to not be with us
.
Cale leaving meant at any second any of us could be separated (in their minds) and therefore, they want to stay as close to us as possible. We are down to two now, with one clinging fiercely. That one will let me go... but sobs with relief when I return, as if they'd been believing the whole time that I might not.
I had been gone to the grocery for about 20 minutes.
BUT.
Every time I come back, every time we share our bed or floor, every time we hold them and let them feel WHATEVER they are feeling, another connection is made and strengthened. I miss sleep and grown up shows and "mommy time" but this is a season and in this season I will wipe every tear and soak up every snuggle if it kills me.
You know that PopTart story I shared recently? It was meant to be funny, it was funny. Until you realize
why they were losing it. I was tired and I just didn't make breakfast that day. I did a totally "regular family" thing and gave them PopTarts for the first time instead. But ... for my kids from trauma, it spiraled into something
way bigger.
Why didn't I care enough to make them breakfast? Do I still love them? I always say I'm not buying PopTarts, but then I did sooooo what else can change? Will I leave them? Will I feed them at the next meal? What if I don't?
PopTart Panic. It's a real thing.
My mostly happy, precious children who seem so very
regular, were sneaking/stealing/hoarding food again- to protect themselves. My child dug through the trash for food. In case I didn't make them any other meals either. Instantly, their brains told them to prepare for the worst.
Obviously, these are extreme examples. This is what trauma does to brains. And it doesn't really matter what that trauma is or if they remember it or not, their brains do. Some of our kids came home in infancy and struggle the most. They are easily triggered right now (because of the Cale situation) and that means they (including Cale... especially Cale)
live in FIGHT, FLIGHT, OR FREEZE all.the.time. All the time. It's right under the surface. They don't go from 0 to 60 because they already live at 40. Something as small as a PopTart can be perceived as a threat and send them into a desperate need for "safety".
I debated (and debated) whether or not to share the images we have of our children's actual brains. While they are
harddd for us to see, it is SUCH good visual for what trauma does to a person. I decided that their actual images were too personal for public viewing, but I will say this: they're extreme. The very obvious differences in their brains compared to that of a typical 10yo are heartbreaking.
{SAMPLES}
typical brain:
**not our images
trauma brain:
*not our images
However, if you are parenting a child from trauma, I do H I G H L Y recommend getting a QEEG.
It has helped us understand
so much about what their brains can or can't do- as in, literally can't.
(FYI- Cale's *did* confirm autism. So after 10 year's of wishy-washy-wondering if his dx is correct, it could clearly be seen on his images. So that's that.)
Hard truth.
Our kids aren't "lucky" to have us regular, plain people as their parents. It wasn't God's plan. Babies are born
literally attached to their mothers. That's the plan. We're the back up and we're okay with it. Our kids lost SO.MUCH. before we came together, some of them several times over, and that's not lucky. It sucks actually. I never want our kids to think or believe that
we think that we "saved" them from the very life God intended.
We don't belong on a pedestal. Those who know me well know I'm likely to trip and fall right off anyway, spilling my coffee on the way down. I know our choices aren't typical, but
we are. We are just regular, plain people who chose to grow our family. Our kids happen have some atypical needs and then we parent them accordingly. You can do that to, if you want!
At the dinner table this week, the kids were talking about where their names came from, etc. I was telling them a story about a day in church over ten years ago, Mother's Day. Our twins had only been home about six weeks and I stood, for the first time, as their mother, overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. I felt the weight of it all in that moment, I knew that this whole adoption thing would not be easy. I also knew, as we read Romans 8:28 that day, that it was confirmation: it would be worth it. I made a note in my Bible and dated it, this was for us! This will lead us to our "Roman" (who was then named after that verse much later if you didn't know). I only noticed this week after sharing it with them, that it was dated the day he was born.
We didn't know about him for another six and a half years.
We may be their back up plan, but they were never our's. We can see clearly where the seeds were planted such a long time ago for each one of them. Some tiny seeds and also some BIG FAT PAY ATTENTION seeds.
Is it a fairytale? Um. No. It's hard as hell. But it IS worth it. They are worth it.
Every year we buy a big, blank Christmas ornament to write the memories we are most thankful for that year. I cried when we sat down to do it this year. Such a hard year. But our kids? They were talking ninety miles a minute. The list of memories they were thankful for this year was LONGER than any other year prior. GOD BLESS THEM AND KEEP THEM AMEN.
Sometimes adoption, for our family, is crowded beds and broken hearts and brains that need to protect themselves. For most of 2017, it was. But greater things are coming. And I'm declaring that in 2018, "adoption", for our family, will be less funky moods and more dance parties, less bedtime tears and more peaceful dreams, less PopTart Panic and more breakfasts baked with love. We're taking our
regular family life BACK.
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Adoption isn't for you? Okay, cool. There are a bajillion ways to step up for kids who need someone. Support birth families, they're Plan A (!!!!) Become a foster family or a Safe (temporary, emergency) family, Advocate, Mentor. Pray. Listen. Feed someone in the trenches.
Just love people, no matter what. 'Cause that's beautiful.
