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Trauma, Truth, Trust


We are having so much fun in our theraplay. It's chaos and crazy-filled, but it is helping my daughter and I connect in deeper more meaningful ways.

Her age helps, in terms of being more reasonable while understanding cause and effect, actions and reactions.

In therapy today, she told the therapist, "I am ignoring. I learned that from my Mother." This is actually an amazing compliment. When there is negative talk or aggressive communication with the intent of pushing our limits, I have been practicing the ignoring skill I have learned. It really works.

Labeled praise for behavior I want to see and ignoring behavior I do not want to see is making a big difference.

If your child struggles with attachment, I highly recommend attachment therapy. In the last four years, we have participated in play therapy, family counseling, behavioral therapy and now attachment therapy combined with help from a psychiatrist. We are blessed to feel like these professionals are the perfect match for our family. Our attachment therapist will lead us through TBT (Trauma-Based Therapy) and EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) in time to come.

She hadn't had a rage fit since August.

Then it happened.

It was her birthday weekend. (mid-December)

We hadn't lived, in four years, even a week without some major meltdown, until August of last year. We had from the end of August through the middle of December to feel what we imagined a "normal" (whatever that means) family would feel like from day to day without unpredictable behaviors throwing us all "off" in a matter of moments, for seemingly no reason at all.

Why did it happen? What caused this intense anger? It took me back to when she first came to us. Even after the tantruming, for nearly two hours, she asked me to play dolls with her in the bath, like I used to when she was only three or four years of age. All the way back, in every aspect. Baby talk. All the way back.

I was heart-broken. Feelings of hopeless began to creep in. Again.

I learned two days later that she had written a narrative at school about A Day She Will Never Forget, after being prompted to do so by her teacher. It was "the day she was adopted". (Just to clarify, it wasn't the day she was adopted, that she had written about, but the day she came to our home.) The details she recalled were unbelievable. She was only three. How could she remember so much? The cherry flavor of her blow pop, the stones she found in her jacket pocket that she threw at the social worker while being driven to our home. The way she was woken up with a "birthday cake" and the "Happy Birthday!" wishes. In July. Her birthday is in December. Lies. They lied.

Her narrative was eye-opening and revelatory, as I recalled the birthdays prior to this one, where she couldn't regulate her emotions, and was completely out of control.

She was told in July, that it was her birthday, and that her birthday gift from her birth mother was that she would go live with complete strangers. Another family. Thankfully, it was OUR FAMILY, and her Forever Family. She would have never imagined this happening to her.

She would have no idea that her needs would be met and she would feel love. She felt fear, anger and anxiety. What if every birthday she feels this intense fear of going to "another family" that she just cannot cope? Being out of her daily strict routine, over the holidays, likely contributed to her anxiety and acting out as well. Rage fits. Four in three weeks. Severe. Trauma.

She told me that she lived with three other families prior to coming to our home. They were "family" members, but she recalls them as foster families. Her words were, "Did you know I was handed over to three families before I came to you?"

This child. The pain. I. Just. Can't. Except, I HAVE TO.



Living through the after effects of her young life is challenging and exhausting.

It's also extremely rewarding when I take the time to focus on the long path we have journeyed TOGETHER to get to where we are now. The struggle and stress I feel personally as I try to protect my son from the traumatic behavior she expresses, weighs on me heavily. He sees everything. He hears everything. Finding balance between letting her get her anger out, and keeping him safe from the chaos and the loudness of her hitting, kicking, screeching and raging... balance. Protecting him. Protecting her. At the same time.

We've seen the psychiatrist and I took a therapy session for myself upon settling back home after Christmas. I received much needed guidance and found it to be incredibly helpful. We're moving forward yet again. Again and again.

Relentless love. Relentless determination. Things. Will. Get. Better.

God's grace is sufficient. His mercy is new each morning.

I used to struggle with forgiveness and trust when it came to the way she acted out early on. That forgiveness comes so easily to me now. This is not her against me. This is not personal. This is her painful past, fighting her desire and progress toward her peaceful present.

Through these experiences, I have gained a greater awareness of the words I speak and the impact they can make especially on young lives. I am certain her birth mother was trying to make the situation that was likely heart-wrenching for her too, a little easier to bear. She acted as if a day in July was my daughter's birthday. A day to be celebrated. But my daughter reflects on this day as the worst day of her young life, as she shared in her recent narrative.

She ended her narrative by saying that "now I know why my birth mother chose this family as my gift". She's figuring it out.

But, at the cost of having difficulty appreciating and enjoying the day she came into this world?

The day before her birthday is the day she went back to the day she arrived, in every way. It felt like (emotional) whiplash to me. Probably to her too.

Waking up ON HER ACTUAL BIRTHDAY brought tears. Of course, they began with me. My heart was so heavy. I apologized that I wasn't in the hospital with her when she was born and reassured her that her birthday was a very special day that I would always celebrate. Reminding her that she is HOME. FOREVER. and LOVED. FOREVER and EVER and EVER and EVER...


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