It's been awfully quiet around 5 for Hope. It is not because things have not been happening--things have definitely been occurring. I simply couldn't bring myself to post about most of it because I don't like being a Negative Nelly. I have spent a good seven months being a Negative Nelly, however, but it doesn't become easier.
I decided, though, that I'm not alone in thinking, "I wish SOMEONE would be honest and talk about this!" I had to let the idea of wading into a pretty unoccupied pool settle before I ventured into unchartered territory.
Life isn't always sunshine and Skittles and unicorns. In fact, most of the time it isn't. But, if you are in the process of adopting or thinking about adopting, you might gather that impression from what you read. Maybe I didn't use the right Google search terms. Maybe I was selectively in tune with things that said what I needed to hear to remain sane. Maybe I am egregiously more naive than I ever would have believed. Whatever the case, I choose disclosure over omission. I choose honest dialogue over silence. And, I support truly informed choice over shell games.
So, it is with those choices in mind that I update you on where we find ourselves now after ten months of having M3 in our household.
I have taken this child to every conceivable expert for tests of various kinds including cognitive ability testing. We have read every book, website, pamphlet and treatise we can get our hands on and our assimilation/adjustment stalled out sometime around the end of August. We have been in a rut since then and while we continued to ask for help from every source that we thought would be able to provide it, we continued to suffer--not in silence, mind you--but we may as well have been.
I knew in my heart this had to do with attachment. I knew that if I took this child to a convenience store, introduced her to the first adult we saw, handed that adult a suitcase and said, "M3, this is your new Mommy/Daddy" and walked off that M3 may have been confused, but she would have taken that adult's hand and left with him/her without making a fuss. I could do that this afternoon and the scenario would play out exactly as described.
Do you know how sickening of a realization that is for a mother?
I also knew that the entire dynamic of my family had changed. My husband and I had not done anything alone since he came home from Iraq. No date nights. No dinners out. No movies. No overnights anywhere. We simply could not leave M3 in anyone's care because we realized that she was quite adept in manipulating any given situation and controlling even the most conscientious of caregivers from beginning to end.
I saw changes in my older daughters that broke my heart. M1 looked for any excuse to leave the house and openly said it was because she needed a break from M3. M1 no longer enjoyed the older sister caretaking interactions she had attempted when M3 first came. It was not uncommon for M3 to reduce M1 to tears with her words and actions. M1 is 12. That is not normal.
M2 became angry and remains so. She has no control over her environment and she wants it to return to normal, but it isn't. She has had her possessions ruined and broken. Her body physically assaulted. Her sleep constantly interrupted. Her dreams of a younger sister to love, play with and grow with all but dashed.
When our social worker visited us for our six-month post placement visit, we realized how dire our situation was because we had to talk about it with someone whose job it is to evaluate families. We were virtually hermits. We did nothing as a family outside the house because either my husband or I would stay home to be with M3. If we did go somewhere, it was not worth it. M3's behavior was odd and drew attention to an already conspicuous family. We even shied away from family gatherings because our extended family did not understand what we saw in M3 and treated her as if nothing were wrong--she took an inch, ran a mile and then treated my husband and I as if we were dismally imbecilic and that she had conquered us, yet again.
It was other adoptive parents and, sadly, not the "experts" whom we wasted hours of time with and spent thousands of dollars on who first suggested that we may have a more serious attachment issue than just the run-of-the-mill adjusting.
Belive me. I researched Reactive Attachment Disorder from front to back. I read all about it. I knew the signs and the symptoms, but I was in denial. M3 didn't hurt the dogs. She didn't have a preoccupation with fire or blood and gore. She didn't rage for hours--in fact, she was quite calm and unassuming when she was angry; she seemed oblivious to consequences--like she didn't care, not raging. I fooled myself into believing that if she didn't have everything on the list, she couldn't possibly have Reactive Attachment Disorder.
After all, didn't the experts and all those books we read call it "rare"? Didn't people for whom adoption was their calling and passion who had spent appreciable time with M3 tell us this would not be an issue when we asked? And, even when I said, "Okay, because of all the things that could be present, RAD would be a real problem for us because my husband and my parenting style is the polar opposite of what would allow a RAD kid to thrive", wasn't I told not to worry? That all was fine and dandy?
Finally, when I knew that my family could take no more and that our entire home and lives were being run by a five-year-old child who didn't seem to give a rat's patoot about any of us, I had a conversation that changed the course of our lives.
Another adoptive mom who had already been down our road (same exact "experts", a child who quietly handles his emotions without raging, YEARS and a gogillion dollars with no improvement) told me I should avail myself of the attachment therapy program at a local place. I had no idea it was even available and it was literally two blocks from my workplace. None.
I made a call. I spoke with the therapist on the phone. She asked me all kinds of questions and sent me a packet. EVERY item on the checklist she sent resonated within me like a clanging gong. I knew before we even went to our intake appointment that M3 definitely has Reactive Attachment Disorder. What I didn't know is how confronting it would shake me to my very core.
Two days before Christmas, we found ourselves watching our daughter on closed circuit television while two therapists spoke with her. On the one hand, it was amazing to watch M3's efforts to dominate, control, manipulate and obfuscate be shut down almost before she could realize what was happening. She tried over and over, but they would not allow it. Finally, she began talking to them and that's when the "on the other hand" moments began. In a nutshell, M3 cares about herself. She has created a reality in her head that does not match reality. She does not acknowledge messages contrary to her inner reality (like being in trouble, mad/sad faces of those around her, etc) as truthful. She simply doesn't care.
I cannot even provide a word for how absolutely devastating a day that was.
We have been informed that treating M3 will be extremely difficult because although she is academically on point with her peers and a five-year-old in pretty much all ways, she is (at best) 15 months old emotionally. To try and have her think about her feelings, her actions, etc. in relation to emotions is next to futile. They will do it, but she isn't able cognitively right now to appreciate what they are saying and her resistance to the message is no small obstacle.
I don't share this because I expect anyone to understand. It would be nice, but I gave up a long time ago having anyone really be in the trenches with us unless we are paying them to be there. I share this because there are other mothers out there who only wanted to be a mother to a child who needed one who are having their hearts carved out on a daily basis by kids whose main mission seems to be to cost them the family they have and their sanity.
I share this for mothers whose entire world have been upended by one fateful decision that they had no earthly idea could result in this. How in the world could a small child wreak havoc this expertly?
I share this for people in the process who were asked if they had mental health insurance coverage in case the new child or family needed counseling--what your agency likely isn't telling you is that a common kind of therapy an adopted child needs (attachment therapy) will not be covered. I have met more people who needed it than people who didn't when children older than 3 are involved. I have also read lots of blog posts written by parents who inadvertently are describing classic attachment disordered behaviors and having no idea that's what it is or what they should do.
I share because I want you to be informed, aware and proactive when you can. For those who are assured their "waiting child" is paper ready--don't be surprised if that is not the case and you wait an additional year after you believed your child would be home to see their face in real life. That's more than just a heartbreaking wait--that's your child spending more time in an institution and losing mentally each month that passes. A child loses one month of linear growth for every three spent in an orphanage. For us, that means M3 lost 8 months of linear growth. That's also your child who is "around 3" being "around 5" when you finally reach them--a huge difference.
It's also for everyone who is reminded constantly about how this isn't the child's fault and how you have to show compassion rather than frustration, fear, anger, or any other honest emotion. I know those people want to scream, "It isn't MY fault either and I'm losing EVERYTHING for someone who has said to my FACE that she doesn't want a mother." Been there. Doing it.
You can't make someone have a will to have something. You can provide the way, but the will necessarily is a personal thing. If the will doesn't follow along when the way is put down, I'm not sure what happens then.
I'm not sure about much of anything.
Sending you big, big hugs.
Posted by: Carrie | January 09, 2011 at 01:08 PM
Ugh hugs to you. I would like to tell you it should get better but who knows. I am just sorry you are having to live this reality.
Posted by: Lisa | January 11, 2011 at 09:56 AM
I'm definitely in the trenches with you...you are not alone, my Friend!!!
Posted by: Amy Ivey | February 06, 2011 at 01:23 AM
I am currently in the same boat as you, but with a 13-year-old boy. All of the daily reminders that he doesn't care are hard enough, but two weeks ago was the worst. We walked into Barnes and Noble to kill some time before going to counseling. He asked if I would buy him one of the overpriced snacks they have there. I told him that we would be having dinner after counseling. He began to scream at me that I never buy him anything. I tried to guide him out of the store. He fell on the floor screaming at me to let go of him, to leave him alone, and that I was not his mother. Everyone in the store was staring. He broke away from me sobbing and ran through the mall, out a different exit, and over to Best Buy. By the time I got there, he was hiding behind a worker there sobbing that I was not his mother and that I had hurt him. The worker was on his cell phone with the police. He would not even make eye contact with me. My child was taken to the back and I was not allowed to speak to him until the policeman had talked with both of us. Then I had to sit through the cop's attempt at counseling my child, telling him things I have told him a million times before. Then the policeman asked my child if he was ready to go with us to counseling. When my child said no, the policeman offered to take my child in his police car to the counseling session, but said that he would then have to go home with us. I had a big problem with rewarding his behavior with a ride in a police car, but said nothing. Everyone in the store watched as I left in my car and my child left with the policeman. I can only imagine what they were thinking. The counselor was not much help either, but I won't go into that whole story. Sometimes I wonder if what I am doing makes a bit of difference. Besides making me sick with stress and worry, that is. Have I mentioned that I have a Masters Degree in special education with an emphasis on behavior disorders? There is a big difference between reading about these things and teaching kids with these issues, not to mention trying to raise one as a member of your family. I feel for you because I am in the same place.
Posted by: Jennifer Taubenheim | February 11, 2011 at 06:43 PM
Oh, Jennifer. My heart breaks for you & aches with understanding & races with fear of what's to come for us. This is so scary & I completely 100% understand every single thing you have written. I know that doesn't make any REAL difference, but I also know that hearing from someone who 'gets' me is amazingly comforting.
Posted by: Melinda | February 11, 2011 at 11:37 PM