Trauma Within Adoption

"I don’t know why people think that trauma just disappears after adoption occurs, or that adoptive families no longer need support. There is no doubt that adoption is beautiful, but we must remember that it also comes with so much brokenness.

I know because I’m living & breathing this everyday. As an adoptive mom, I can guarantee you that when the judge signs those papers, it may calm the chaos of the long & stressful adoption process; but it won’t calm the chaos inside of them that trauma brings.

Our adopted children have undoubtedly experienced trauma—yes, even ones separated from their parents at birth. We know that trauma physically rewires our children’s brains causing attachment, anger & behavioral disruptions far beyond what society considers ‘normal’ for most kids.

This cannot & will not be healed overnight.

After adoption, it’s still hard for our families to find babysitters who can manage our kiddos, friends that will tolerate our children’s high needs, teachers that are trauma informed or even health care professionals that fully grasp the effects of trauma.

Every day we are investing in the restoration of our children. It’s absolutely worth it, but it’s also hard & exhausting. Our children need gentle understanding just like they did before adoption took place; & adoptive families still need support so we can continue to do the hard work that healing brains & bodies effected by trauma entails."

-Real Life Foster Mom

It is widely accepted that older children who come through the foster care system or who are adopted at an older age have experienced trauma. However, research strongly suggests that a baby is able to recognize her mother’s voice. Within a few days of birth she begins to recognize familiar faces, voices and smells and is drawn to them. She is able to discriminate her mother’s voice from those of other voices. If you are a parent with biological children, think back on the time when your baby sought your presence, sought your face and smile, and was comforted solely by you. How could we not assume that an adopted baby recognizes the loss and separation from her birth mother, despite her inability to narrate it? I believe that she does recognize such loss – she knows abandonment, sadness, and hurt. Though healing can and does occur, she carries that loss with her the rest of her life. As adoptive parents, this fact is paramount to grasp so that we can help our children who have been adopted from birth heal and validate their feelings of grief when they express them. 

What can we do to help the infant grieve? Be consistent. When the infant is unable to calm (researchers call this self-regulation), the caregiver uses herself to help the infant calm (through soothing touch, holding, soft words, swaying)—we call this co-regulation, and it’s an important part of early relationship-building. The infant who is distressed and protests the loss of his/her caregiver, may be irritable/hard to console, may cry more (while some babies may be more quiet or “shut down”), may appear to be searching for someone, may be less responsive/have a “flatter” expression, may seem anxious, and/or may be less hungry/experience temporary weight loss. With time and consistency, an infant will learn that his/her new caregiver will meet his/her needs, love, nurture, and keep him/her safe. But this process takes time. The infant needs repeated experiences of a caregiver responding in a timely way to his/her cues, providing consistent comfort and nurture in order to trust that this person truly will never abandon him/her and that this relationship will be a “safe home base” for soothing, care, and loving interactions. Over time, these repeated interactions become the basis for a new secure attachment.

This is why it is so important for new adoptive parents to meet the needs of the infant, instead of other family members or friends over the course of the first few weeks. The infant needs to know who the primary caregiver is and make a secure attachment to them through their needs being met. Beyond this, we need to be mindful of this deep loss that our child experienced as they grow. You may notice that your child who was adopted from birth has a tougher time with transitions or needs constant reminders that you will be coming back after dropping them off to school, for example. Although this is normal for most children in the beginning of school, you may notice that your child who was adopted needs these reminders long after many children have overcome this insecurity. However, if we are mindful of the way their life started - with deep loss - then we can be more understanding as to why they may be reacting to a separation more often then their peers. Although this can be overwhelming, we must cling to the hope that our children have a God-given ability to triumph over their trauma and we must stay consistent, validate their feelings of grief, apologize when we mess up, and reach out to a trauma-informed therapist when needed. 

Resources:

Image from @flowering.families

https://www.facebook.com/RealLifeFosterMom/

https://adoption.com/how-infants-grieve-a-guide-for-new-adoptive-parents

https://beyondtwoworlds.com/2018/08/05/adoption-and-preverbal-trauma/

Parenting is Hard & Sanctifying

"This won't be the last time that doctor appointments feel heavy and clinical terms seem overwhelming, but I promise you will never be alone in the struggle."

I wrote this nearly a year ago and little did I know how true that specific line would be. This last month has been hard. It's involved lots of different appointments, medication changes, and big emotions {from both of us}.

I think, as parents, we can get so wrapped up in our children's emotions that we forget to feel and process our own emotions. Legit, most of my days are "I see you're feeling _____" or "It's okay to be mad but it's not ok to do ______ when we're mad" or "Do you need a hug?" or "Can you try that again with kind words?" It takes a lot of effort to be the emotional regulator without losing your own emotion control all. day. long.

Sunday morning we had a particularly rough morning with J. His emotions were high and when his emotions are high his words get very hurtful {thank you, impulses}. I was at my wits end and just decided to get ready without responding. As I was doing my make-up, he walked up to me and asked, "Mommy, do you still love me?" Oh my heart. Immediately, I got down on his level and said, "Absolutely. Mommy can be mad and love you at the same time. My love doesn't ever go away." He smiled and went on his way playing.

That should have been the end of it, right? But it wasn't. The devil has a way of getting to me with parenting moments like this. I started having insecure thoughts like: Why does my son question my love for him? Should I be doing more?

On the way to church, I finally acknowledged my own emotions and the tears started flowing. If I'm honest, I've felt defeated and ill-equipped for a while. But God met me at church with a song:

"Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now

So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine"

It's exactly what I needed in that moment. I needed to remember that I can rest in Him, because where I'm ill-equipped HE isn't.

I'd love to wrap this up with a pretty bow, but that wouldn't be truthful. We are still in therapy. We are still working on new parenting methods. We are still just putting one foot in front of the other with God as our guide.

Parenting is hard and sanctifying and humbling and beautiful.

Silently Struggling & Getting Help

It was the night before my 6-week postpartum follow-up and I was a wreck. I was shaking uncontrollably, heart was pounding, fists clenched, felt like I couldn't catch my breath, and couldn't sit still. It was midnight so I texted my brother and sister to see if either would be awake. Luckily, my sister called right away. Thank God for her! My first panic attack lasted more than an hour and it left me feeling incredibly weak. Who knew the mind had so much power over the body? It's seriously incredible.

But it couldn't be Postpartum Depression, I thought. I mean, I'm not crying all day and I don't want to harm my baby. Those are the signs they say to look out for and that just wasn't me. I figured it was a one time thing and that it was all due to the anxiety over my first appointment since giving birth. There is some truth to that, however I continued to struggle with anxiety and complete exhaustion over everyday tasks. I also continued to experience panic attacks that would bring my husband home from work, keep me from being able to grocery shop, making me change travel plans, and ultimately landed me in the E.R.

This thick headed girl finally realized that professional help is what was needed. This wasn't blowing over. The office that I was referred to was so busy that I couldn't get an appointment until February, but I figured being on a waiting list was better than nothing. I was encouraged, however, by some wonderful MOPS mamas to call my OB to see if she could either help me until my appointment or get me into my appointment sooner. It worked! I got a call on a Tuesday from the office and they had an appointment for me the very next day. That's what I call a God-thing, folks!

So here I am a week after receiving treatment and I feel like that heavy, dark cloud has been lifted. I have my energy back and I want to play with my kiddos again. I share all of this to encourage anyone who is struggling but is questioning whether it's PPD. Get help! It's not only going to benefit you, but will benefit your kiddos and your spouse. Don't be embarrassed or stubborn like I was. Honestly, the psychiatrist told me if I would have got help right at the 6 week mark I'd probably be off the medication by now. I struggled for months for what reason? My own pride. Such silliness!



And if you're struggling or know someone who is, please also read this: Be Still My Soul.