Showing posts with label Attachment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Attachment. Show all posts

Friday, November 22, 2013

I am Devastated and Heartbroken

Hana Williams (Photo via Patheos)
Earlier this week, I read the feature story in Salon. Hana Williams, an Ethiopian adoptee, died after being systematically abused by her adoptive parents.

Researching Hana's story led me to the story of Lydia Schatz, a Liberian adoptee who was spanked to death by her parents.

In both cases, the parents, conservative Christians, seemed to believe they were disciplining their children as instructed in Scripture.

I'm devastated and heartbroken.

There really are no words.

Today, however, I feel compelled to speak up for these two girls who died at the hands of their adoptive parents.

What can I say that hasn't already been said? What can I add to the hundreds of news reports and magazine articles and blogs that are already posted online?

Maybe nothing. But I know that many families considering older child adoption end up here at my blog. Taking time to consider what went so terribly wrong in these adoptive families is an important step toward making sure it doesn't happen again. . . that it never happens in your family.

So if you are an adoptive parent, or if you know adoptive parents in your church, or if you are considering adoption yourself, please take some time to read the links below. Honor these girls by listening to their stories. Be informed.

Hana Williams, adopted from Ethiopia in 2008 at age 10; died May 11, 2011 at age 13. (Her age is disputed by her adoptive parents who claim she was actually older.)

Hana Williams: The tragic death of an Ethiopian adoptee, and how it could happen again - the story.

Corpses Don't Rebel: A former follower of Michael Pearl's "To Train Up a Child" reacts to the death of Hana Williams - a parent who at one time followed the same discipline system as Hana's parents speaks up.

The Legacy of Ethiopian Adoptee Hannah Williams - written by a mom with adopted Ethiopian kids.

Lydia Schatz, adopted from Liberia in 2007 at age 4; died February 5, 2010 at age 7.

Godly Discipline Turned Deadly - the story.

In which I discuss the unthinkable - written by a family friend in the days following Lydia's death. Honest and emotionally raw.

Couple sentenced for religious beating death and torture of children - the sentencing.

Tragedy in a homeschooling family - powerful words from a Christian dad.

There are some common threads in both girls' stories. Adoption. . . conservative Christianity. . . large families. . . homeschooling. . . and most specifically, following the teachings of Michael Pearl as outlined in the book, To Train Up a Child.

One thing I've noticed when things like this happen, is that if we fall into one of the groups listed above, we tend to quickly circle the wagons. We dismiss the offending families as fringe people who were not really part of our movement. Giving brief lip service to the dead child, we quickly move on to defending our rights to adopt. . . or practice our faith. . . or have a large family. . . or homeschool. . . or discipline our kids as we see fit. We worry about the fallout from the unfortunate incident.

That attitude compounds the tragedy.

Because this is not about defending our rights as adults. It's about speaking up for and standing up for defenseless children. They have to be the focus of the story.

There are so many thoughts swirling in my head, but underlying it all is a deep, deep sadness, that instead of finding love and safety in their new families, these girls were abused and tortured and killed.

And the part that makes my head hurt most of all is that I don't believe any of these parents thought they were child abusers.

They adopted older, traumatized children, and then viewed their every negative behavior as evil and rebellion.

Convinced that God had commanded them to use physical discipline, they punished every act of disobedience.

They fought to win every battle.

They killed their kids.

Heaven help us.

I've said it before. Dear Christian Parent Adopting an Older Child: Please Don't Spank.

And finally, To Train Up a Child Parenting Book Leads to Multiple Child Deaths. Some are asking if the author of this parenting book bears any moral responsibility in these children's deaths.

Sharing today at Imperfect Prose.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Fourth Grade Photo - Swoon!


What a beautiful child! This photo makes me swoon.

Yesterday, I went for a little walk with Wenxin and snapped some photos to commemorate his fourth grade year -- my version of school pics for my homeschooled kids.

Once  again, this adoptive momma had to pause, peek back over her shoulder, and savor the moment. Look how far we've come!

Gone are the days of Wenxin dodging the paparazzi, ducking out of family photos, and daring me to see if I could really get a Christmas card of all of us. 

New adoptive mommas, those first years are hard! But compassionately parenting, with connection as the goal, eventually bears sweet fruit. Looking back, I can even see how learning to parent Wenxin has made me a better parent to all my kids. Parenting with connection isn't just for adopted kids.

This morning I read a beautiful narrative of what parenting with connection looks like in real life. In Walking Through a Re-Do, this momma gives a blow by blow description of how she handled things when her daughter got frustrated during homeschool and threw a book, notebook, and pencil to the floor before fleeing the room in anger.

This momma didn't excuse the behavior. Far from it. But she was mindful of her child's background, and responded with compassion, keeping connection as her goal while correcting the behavior. The results were beautiful.

My parenting is far from perfect, and I blow it more times than I'd like to admit. But this is what I'm aiming for. I hope you enjoy, Walking Through a Re-do, as much as I did.

Sharing today at The Long Road to China and WFMW.

Ni Hao Yall

Monday, September 23, 2013

He Called Her "Real Mom"




I'd love to know your opinion on this one.

The other day Wenxin and I were talking, and I'm not even sure how it came up. I think I was telling him that I bet his foster mother would be so proud of him.

And then he asked.

"What about the other one?"

"The other what?" I replied.

"The other mom. You know . . . my REAL mom." (emphasis mine)

"Oh, I see. I bet your first mom would be so proud of you, too."

We talked for another minute or two, and as he ran out the door to go play, I said with a wink, "Hey Wenxin, don't forget. I'm REAL, too."

Big grin, and he was off.

So here's the question. He's 10 years old and adopted for three years now. Is it important for me to teach him what most people consider to be appropriate adoption language? Should he call her his first mom or his birth mom instead of his real mom? Does it really matter?

My gut tells me he should be able to call all the mothers in his life whatever seems appropriate to him -- because it's his story. My gut says I should follow his lead on this one. But he is only ten and is still making sense of his own history. On this issue, does he need guidance from me? Specifically, does he need me to choose his words?

I'm not concerned about my place in his life. I know this kid loves me. I also know I'm his third mom. I'm OK with this. And I think I can live with him calling her his real mom.

But since it's not what's normally done in the adoption world, I'm wondering if I'm missing something here?

I also have a real fear that some adoptive parent will correct him. It could happen, you know, cause calling the birth mom the real mom. . . those are fightin' words in a lot of places.

I'm also pretty sure he'll call her whatever I ask him to call her. He's sweet and obedient. And he believes what I say about things. If I say he should call her his first mom or his birth mom, then I'm pretty sure that's what he'll do -- for now, anyway. But do I want to make that decision for him?

So what do you think? What would you do in my place?

Waiting for all of your words of wisdom.

If you are an adult adoptee, please let your voice be heard on this one.

Sharing today over at Emily's place.



Sunday, September 15, 2013

Is Older Child Adoption a Special Need?


The other day, someone mentioned on Facebook that I had adopted a special needs child.

That phrase took me by surprise.

Because sometimes I forget. 

Being an older child is considered a special need in the adoption world.

That used to really bother me.

It used to bother me that China would call my perfectly healthy, incredibly bright son a special needs kid.

It felt like a put-down, like they couldn't see his potential.

It doesn't bother me anymore. . . well, not as much as it used to. 

Because being adopted as an older child is a special need.

I've said it before. No older child is available for adoption because he's had a great life. Older children available for adoption have experienced real trauma. And being a trauma survivor is a special need with long-term implications.

The death of a parent = trauma.

Abandonment = trauma

The loss each time they were moved from foster home to foster home or into an orphanage = trauma

Being adopted internationally and having to adjust to new parents, a new country, a new language, a new culture = trauma

It's easy to forget. 

It's easy to think that a lot of love and plenty of food and having so much more materially than they ever had in their birth country will fix everything.

It doesn't.

So if you're thinking of adopting an older child, it may help you to remember that older child adoption is a special need.

Think about it this way. If you were adopting a child in a wheelchair, you'd be constantly aware of their special need. You'd be prepared to deal with it long term. You might hope that with great medical care your new child would learn to walk one day. You might even be praying for a miracle. But in reality, you would also be preparing to push that wheelchair for years to come. 

Adopting a kid with a background of trauma is no different, even though their special need is hidden. 

You would never tell the kid in the wheelchair, "You've been home for 18 months now. We've taken you to the best doctors. Everyone at our church has faithfully prayed for you. You can't let this thing limit you forever. We're done pushing this wheelchair. It's time for you to quit making excuses and get up and walk."

You would never do that.

But it's done all the time when a kid's special need is hidden. 

Here's what I'm not trying to do in this post. I'm not trying to limit your child or put them in a box. I'm not telling you, as a parent, to excuse all their negative behavior. I'm not encouraging you to set the bar low.

My son, adopted at age 7 1/2 and home three years now, has made amazing progress. His heart has healed in so many ways. I am full of hope when I think about his future. Please don't ever give up hope! But in the same way, please don't ever forget to be compassionate as you parent a child with a real, but hidden, special need. 

I'll give you an example. When we started our new homeschool year back in August, both Mike and I noticed subtle changes in Wenxin. He was needier, clingier, louder . . . he seemed to be on high alert. We remembered that with his background, change is hard for him. Change makes him afraid. 

So we made subtle changes in our behavior in response to what we saw in him. We held him more, snuggled him more, kept him closer to us. Even though he's able to do a lot of his homeschool work independently, I spent a few days doing almost everything with him. That little bit of extra attention from us was all it took -- this time -- to help him feel safer and more confident starting a new school year.

I read a great blog post this week that reminded me to parent with compassion for the long haul. When I read it, I knew I wanted to share it with you. 


Sharing today at Emily's Imperfect Prose and Ni Hao Y'all.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Day 29: A Dad's Eye View of Adoption



I cannot imagine our family without our girls. It makes me cringe to think of where they would be now and what their lives would not be like if they had remained in their orphanages in China.

I also know that as much as they have been blessed by being adopted, I have been blessed through their adoption all the more. They have taught me more about myself than I ever would have known had God not brought them into my life.

There are times when I laugh and when I cry. Times when it becomes painfully obvious that a meltdown or rage induced by the trauma in their background is being used by God to heal something in me that needed healing.


The first time we had a real honest to goodness full on rage (which is different from a tantrum!) I was as much scared as I was shocked. I believe in that moment if she had a weapon she would have used it on me.

It started with a simple correction and consequence from my wife. No big deal. To us – but not to her.

My main thought at the time (besides feeling this was way beyond me) was to protect her from herself. I tried physically restraining her (discovering later that was exactly the wrong way to do it). But that only made it worse.

It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My older kids had thrown a tantrum a time or two before – but this different.

We realized that we were in over our heads – and needed help.

Oh the things I learned about trauma over the next few months. About how it interrupts development. About how it can be triggered by seemingly unrelated things. About how raising a trauma child will almost always reveal the trauma and hurt in the parent's background as well.

And trigger our own traumas.

This was far more than I had bargained for when we began this adoption journey. It was not supposed to be about me – it was supposed to be about them.

I had successfully managed to lock away the trauma in my own past in what I considered a most effective manner. I had logically and rationally dealt with the issues from my childhood in a most reasonable and grown up fashion and was functioning quite well.

Until a 9-year-old girl with more hurts than a 9-year-old girl should ever have invaded our home and my heart.

Suddenly, I was the 6-year-old boy again witnessing things a 6-year-old boy shouldn’t see. Experiencing rejection and hurt that 6-year-old boys aren’t meant to deal with.

Being a typical, macho guy – my first response was anger. I was mad at her. Mad at the situation. Mad at my wife. I realized that for the sake of my family and my children, I needed to move through that and deal with my own stuff. Not easy for anyone, but I think guys just have more trouble with this.

After a lot of trying, I realized that my anger was only making it worse, and was directed in the wrong places.  My anger was actually my hurt – and it wasn’t helping heal their hurt.

They needed to be told they were safe, not screamed at by a raving lunatic. They needed to be loved while their behaviors were out of control. Not traditional parenting techniques  - because they weren't traditional kids.

The only way to help heal them was to love them over and over and over and over again. And then tell them and show them some more. And while I was pouring that into them, I realized that my own childhood hurts were being opened and then healed.



I thank God every day that I listened to His call on my life and that He loves me enough to have blessed me with these three wonderful girls.

It has not been easy. But God has been with me. My peers, business associates, old friends and family ask me often,“Why did you do this? Shouldn’t you be out playing golf, traveling and enjoying your life?”

My answer to them gives me the opportunity to share our adoption story, but it’s also an opportunity to share what Christ has done in my life.
 
As surely as it seems that we rescued these girls, Jesus has used them to help rescue me from being held captive to my past.


Doug is a 55-year-old father of 6 and grandfather to 1. His hobbies are chasing his kids and indulging his wife. When he needs a rest, he is president of Mission Beverage Company in Los Angeles. 



Sunday, July 28, 2013

Day 28: How To Help Your Church Help You


We're coming full circle here. We've covered a lot of topics this month -- topics designed to help you prepare to parent. Karen is back again today sharing once more about how to get help -- this time, from your church.

A little while ago, I wrote a post titled Alone in a Church Full of People. It was in response to my many friends who felt that their church families had abandoned them in the tough times of parenting a traumatized, older child. I was saddened at the number of friends who had stopped going to church, had no support from their church, and even had negative experiences with their church family. I was saddened for them and for what it said about the church. Here is something I hope will help –

An Open Letter to Our Church

Dear Pastor and Church Members –

As you know, we have recently adopted a (insert child’s gender and age here). We are entering into a very new and scary world, and we need you to help us. Before we tell you what we need, here’s a little information on what it’s like to adopt an older child.

Most people figure that adopting an older kid is actually easier than having a baby. The child sleeps through the night, feeds themselves, and actually has the cognitive ability to understand that they have entered a wonderful new world of family and safety and security and love.  It’s an easy transition for all – filled with hope and new beginnings.

NOT.

The reality is that our older adopted children don't act their age and don’t always assimilate well. Their traumatic beginnings have affected them in ways we are only beginning to understand.

They can’t walk into a room full of kids who have been in Sunday School together since pre-school and make friends easily. Some weeks we are simply trying to keep everyone alive. The more subtle issue is that no one understands that the bruises on my arms are from restraining my child during a rage  - and getting to bible study would be easier if I could come in my pj’s and know that during child care, my child was OK. Given that, here are some things that you can do to help us.


  • First and foremost, our family needs prayer. Dedicated and committed prayer partners who will come along side our family and pray us through the times ahead. If there are one or two prayer warriors that would be willing to do this – that would be wonderful. 


  • Our meals ministry is a blessing to new moms; we could use meals, but not just for the first two weeks home. Rather, feeding us one or two nights a week for several months or more would feed our souls and relieve a significant amount of stress.
 
  • Educate your lay leaders and pastoral staff about raising children with backgrounds of trauma. There are some wonderful resources available for you, and they will help you understand what our family is going through. We need you to understand.

  • Please release us from our volunteer obligations. It simply isn’t the season for us to pour into others; all we have is being poured into the broken soul God brought into our family to help heal. Guilt about not teaching Sunday School or leading Awanas or volunteering at VBS is hurtful, not helpful.


  • Please refrain from offering parenting advice to us about our adopted child’s behavior. More discipline won’t help him – trust me, we have tried. What he needs is healing first, and that looks different. It doesn’t help when the Sunday School teachers tell us “you just need to be more firm with him."


  • Help our child transition. Find a buddy for them to hang out with in Sunday School. Our child doesn’t know how to make a friend or be a friend; help us show them what that looks like. 


  • Show up and be the hands & feet of Jesus. Come sit with our kids so we can take a walk together. Offer to clean my house. Take my adopted child out for ice cream to give our other kids a break from the chaos for an hour or two. We are not asking for days or weeks – just an hour or two a week.


We need church. We need the healing that only God can bring into this child. It is harder than anything we have ever done. And we need the Body of Christ to stand with us and sometimes hold us up while we fight for the healing and the restoration and redemption that Jesus will bring our child.

In Him – 


In our case, our church has been very supportive. They have supported all of our children for two services every Sunday so that we can attend one service and can sit and have a date during the other service. It’s an unconventional way for us to have a date each week – but it works. They also have a college volunteer who is our older daughter’s buddy for children’s church and the transition time. Their disability ministry helps Katie be in class for two services.

This is important. We needed to be connected to the Body and to Jesus while walking the last year and a half. It’s OK to ask your church to help – and to help them understand how to help you.

Ask for help. 

Karen blogs at Casa de Alegria.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Day 24: Bullying

"I love Mama."

"I love Baba."

"I love Nathan."

"I love Julia."

Wenxin pauses and then glares at Katherine. "But I DON"T LOVE YOU!"

Home only a few months, 7 1/2-year-old Wenxin is still adjusting, still grieving. He has sized up things in our family and decided to vent all his frustrations on the one person he perceives to be beneath him in the pecking order, his younger sister, Katherine. 

"I know you don't love me," Katherine says softly but firmly. "But I still love you anyway."

He has absolutely no idea what to do with that one.

Wenxin's initial mistreatment and rejection of Katherine was one of the hardest parts of our older child adoption. We noticed it almost from Day 1. Here's an incident I recorded on this blog.

This morning I tried to have story time for Katherine and Wenxin. I picked fun, simple English books. I read Dr. Seuss's Hop on Pop in my silliest dramatic voice.
It was going really well. Wenxin was engaged. He was laughing.
And then he began to grab for the book. I said, "No," and continued to read and hold the book up for both kids to see.
More grabbing. . . He wanted to hold the book.
When I insisted on holding the book myself, Wenxin turned his back to me in anger and sat facing the opposite direction. Then he got up and walked away.
Poor Katherine was left having to listen to Hop on Pop. Returning, Wenxin walked past us a time or two and made vomiting noises in our direction. Then, he ran by and slapped Katherine on top of her head.
Mike and I intervened and gave Katherine lots of loving and had Wenxin apologize to her.

It never got more physical than that. But the emotional bullying was unrelenting. Driving down the road, I'd often catch him sticking out his tongue and making mean faces at her when he thought I wasn't looking. And he made it a point to constantly remind her that she was the only one he didn't love.


Let me make a few observations before I share how we handled the bullying that was happening in our own family.

First of all, this was not normal sibling bickering. It was our newly adopted son actively bullying our youngest daughter. Think about that for a moment. It's a hard thing to see happening in your own family.

Next, this is one of the reasons prospective adoptive parents are often warned about adopting out of birth order. Traumatized children may be abusive to younger children in the family. I'm not saying it always happens, but prospective adoptive parents should be aware that it's a possibility.

Finally, in Wenxin's defense, the skill set needed to survive in an orphanage housing 1000 children is not the same skill set needed to live in a loving family. Once we adopted him, he was safe and loved and didn't need to use the old orphanage behaviors anymore. But what other option did he have? Wenxin needed us as his parents to teach him how to live in our family.

Looking back, we focused on two things as we tried to eliminate the bullying in our house.

1. Anytime we noticed Wenxin mistreating Katherine, our first move was to comfort her. We'd give her a hug and some encouraging words -- even before we addressed the behavior with Wenxin. It was important for her to know that we had her back -- that we were committed to protecting her. And it was important for Wenxin to see that we took our jobs as parents seriously -- that he could trust us to keep everyone in the family physically and emotionally safe.

2. We got creative about how to teach Wenxin our expectations for family behavior, even before he had the language to really have a discussion.



I made this chart on my computer. I printed and laminated two copies, putting one on the fridge and carrying one in the car. Even with the language barrier, Wenxin could grasp these three simple rules. 

When he disobeyed one of these rules, we'd refer to this chart, and then, I'd give him a do-over, helping him try again. This gave him success at doing it right. 

Most of the time, that was enough, but if he dug in his heels and refused to correct his own behavior, I'd set a timer for 5 minutes and have him sit in a chair close to me. When the timer sounded, I just dropped the whole matter and let him return to play. 

It took a lot of practice, but it worked. 

Let me say it again. Living in an orphanage is totally different from living in a family. It's wrong for us to expect our new kids to do something they've never been taught how to do. We have to patiently teach them a new way.


So for that whole first year, there was a lot of learning going on at our house. Mike and I were learning new parenting skills. And Wenxin was learning how to live in a family. When he'd been home almost a year, I recorded this little success on this blog.

Every now and then I see a little glimpse of the boy I hope Wenxin is becoming.
Wenxin hated what I prepared for dinner tonight and continued to whine and cry that he was hungry long after we'd finished.
Food is a big deal for kids who've suffered significant trauma, so even though I want him to learn to eat what I prepare, I decided I needed to feed him something before bed.  I remembered that I'd bought some frozen chicken strips when they were B1G1 last week and thought that would be an easy solution.
When Wenxin saw what I was preparing he asked, "Can you fix some for everyone, Mama?  I know Katherine really likes those."
Thoughtfulness, empathy, sharing, kindness.  I like that.

To read the whole series, start here.
Shared over at Emily's place and WFMW.

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Monday, July 22, 2013

Day 22: So. Your Adopted Child Hoards Food.


We are honored to have Robyn Gobbel back again today at Death by Great Wall.

Food issues are such a complex, yet such a common struggle for adoptive families. So complex and so common that I’d say almost every single adopted child I work with has some sort of food thing. They may not hoard or overeat or do anything that interrupts their daily life, but it’s there. 

Over on my trauma momma blog, I sometimes talk about the four superpowers that trauma mommas develop after being in the trenches with their traumatized kiddo.
 
n    Understanding the neurobiological impact of trauma on the brain. What happens to a child’s attachment, emotion regulation system, and sense of self when he spends months or years hungry? How does your body react when it believes it is starving? How does your brain respond to a slight dip in blood sugar level (a cue that you need to eat)? Know that hunger is registered in the brain stem, the most primal area of your brain. When your blood sugar dips, cortisol is produced. Brains that have lived in chronic fight/flight/freeze mode register that slight dip in blood sugar as “I’M GOING TO STARVE” as opposed to “It must be getting close to lunch time…my stomach is growling!”

2.    Understanding how their child’s specific trauma has impacted their specific brain. OK, so you are starting to understand the theory behind how hungry tummies impact the brain. But how does this translate to your child specifically? Look at your child’s history. Compare it to what you know about brains. Look at your child’s present life and find her common themes. “I’m starving!” “If I don’t eat RIGHT NOW I never know when I’ll eat again!” “I don’t like this feeling so I will soothe myself with food.” “I don’t trust adults to take care of me so I must take care of myself, always making sure I have enough food to eat.” These themes help us peek into their past.
 
3.    How are you participating in the trauma tornado? The trauma tornado is the cycle of the scared child who acts scary who triggers the parent to feel scared and then act scary. Say WHAT?!?!



The scared child (hungry! When will I eat again!) acts scary (hoarding, overeating). Scared momma (“The doctor is on my case about my overweight child!” Or maybe “My parents were restrictive and shaming regarding food and this is triggering my old stuff!” Or maybe “I can never satiate or make my child satisfied. I’m a bad mom!!”) acts scary (restricts food). The cycle continues. Trauma mommas get very good at jumping out of the trauma tornado. And the place to jump out is at the “scared mom” step.

Heal thyself. Is food a huge trigger for you? Do you love to prepare good, healthy foods and therefore watching your child gorge or hoard junk food is really a sore spot with you? Take what you learned in step three and sooth and heal yourself. This is how we jump out of the trauma tornado. If you can turn around those negative beliefs and feelings by reminding yourself of what you learned in step one and two, you’ll respond in a way that is not scary to your child. “My child hoards food because her brain believes that every time she is slightly hungry she is actually starving to death. I will make sure my child knows that food is always available to her.”

 
OK, you want some practical advice now!
It’s impossible to blog about the perfect solution for your specific situation, unfortunately. But my #1 suggestion to families is to create a place-- a drawer, a cupboard, a backpack, a container of some sort.

Together, you and your child fill it with healthy foods that you both agree on.  Allow your child unlimited access to this stash.  If dinner is five minutes away…your child can still take from his snack drawer.  If dinner was just over five minutes ago…your child can still take from her snack drawer.  If you child fills up on the healthy foods you’ve agreed to put in his snack drawer and doesn’t eat dinner, no problem!  It was healthy!!  If your child raids the fridge at night, then give him a bedroom snack container.  Or place a granola bar or an apple on her nightstand.  Give this several days.  Weeks.
   
This may alleviate your child’s food anxiety. This may just alleviate it a tiny bit. It may not alleviate it at all.  Oftentimes children with traumatic pasts will benefit from both therapeutic parenting and trauma healing.  Look for a therapist that promotes and believes in attachment, as well as one trained in trauma healing, such as EMDR or Somatic Experiencing. Check out the therapist listing at the Attachment & Trauma Network- they are a great resource.   

Robyn Gobbel, LCSW is a therapist in Austin, TX and the founder of the Central Texas Attachment and Trauma Center.  She specializes in helping children and families heal after attachment trauma.  Robyn blogs at www.gobbelcounseling.com/blog in an attempt to help trauma mommas feel more supported and less alone. 


Sunday, July 21, 2013

Day 21: Bedtime, Spanking, & How We Parent


Our conference ended last night. Today we're driving up to Estes Park, CO for some hiking in the Rocky Mountain National Park.

I'm exhausted and wondering how long it's going to take me to recover from all this fun.

I can't believe we're at Day 21 already. I could not have done this series without the help of an amazing group of guest bloggers. Did you see Robyn Gobbel's post on negative behaviors on Friday? If you're creating an adoption toolbox board on Pinterest, that's one you want to be sure to pin.

And I'll tell you a secret: Robyn is our guest blogger tomorrow with another post you don't want to miss!

Today I'd like to talk about choosing an appropriate parenting style when adopting an older child. I'm going to link to two posts I wrote a while back, specifically challenging some parenting techniques and philosophies prevalent in Evangelical Christian churches today. Even if you aren't a part of that community, I hope you'll still take a look and ask yourself what you believe about parenting, especially when it comes to disciplining your newly adopted child. This is a huge part of preparing to parent.



Both these posts generated some lively comments. Feel free to add your voice to the conversation!
Start here to read the whole series.

Ni Hao Yall

Friday, July 19, 2013

Day 19: Understanding Negative Behavior



Today's post is by Robyn Gobbel, LCSW.

What is your child’s behavior trying to make you understand?!

Behavior is always an attempt to communicate something.   Hugs communicate things like, “I love you,” “I trust you,” or “You help me feel safe.”  Angry words communicate, “I am really mad at you right now!” “I’m afraid but hate the feeling of being afraid and mad is so much more powerful!” or “I need you to LISTEN TO ME!”

When we parent a child from birth, we have the luxury of having a pretty good idea of what their behavior is trying to communicate.  We know the child intimately and develop a sixth sense about what is going on in their inner-most experiences.  This is so much harder when we are parenting an older child that we are just getting to know.  To know what a behavior is communicating, we have to slow down and listen.  Listen to what is NOT being said.  Listen to what is underneath that behavior.
   
For so many adopted kids, their negative beliefs about themselves and the world are driving their challenging behaviors.
 
First, let’s look at this in reverse.  Children who are raised by an attuned caregiver in a safe environment develop positive beliefs about themselves and their world, including:

  •        I am good/loveable.
  •       I am safe.
  •        I can trust grown-ups to meet my needs.
  •       It is safe to love and trust.
  •       My needs are important.

They learn these things when a parent always answers their cry.  When the parent knows what the cry means.  When the parents remains available and soothing even when they can’t figure out what the cry means.  When they feed, change a diaper, rock, gaze lovingly into their baby’s eyes, tenderly stroke their skin, lovingly dry them off after a bath.
   
If you bring home a child who missed out on those subtle, gentle, intimate, yet powerful aspects of being a cherished and loved child, you will need to consider what negative beliefs are underneath their challenging behaviors. 

  •       I am not safe.
  •       I am not a good or loveable baby.
  •       I did something wrong/this was my fault.
  •       I cannot trust moms/dads.
  •       I am not important.

These negative beliefs become “stuck” and continue to contribute to children’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors.  When parents are trying to determine if a child’s behavior is “normal” or related to something from their past, it can be helpful to look for the child’s possible negative beliefs.  The child who tantrums when asked to do a chore may have a negative belief that “all chores are punishments, and punishments are not safe.”  This child may have experienced harsh and inappropriate discipline.  Or maybe the child has a negative belief that "only the bad kids are made to do chores," and this hits the negative belief of “I am bad.” 

If we work hard to be attuned to our children, we can help identify these negative beliefs outside moments of severe behavioral challenges.  Then, when we are faced with a behavioral melt-down, we already have some clues about their core negative beliefs and can consider if those negative beliefs came into play.  Attuning to those negative beliefs-- truly understanding what is driving that anxiety and challenging behavior-- is the true path toward change. 

Read the whole series.


Does anyone else see negative beliefs underlying some of your child's problem behaviors?

Robyn Gobbel, LCSW is a therapist in Austin, TX and the founder of the Central Texas Attachment and Trauma Center.  She specializes in helping children and families heal after attachment trauma.  Robyn blogs at www.gobbelcounseling.com/blog in an attempt to help trauma mommas feel more supported and less alone.


Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Day 17: Listening to Adult Adoptees, Part I

Tara's Family
There is only one group of people who can tell us, from experience, what it's like to grow up adopted. We must develop the habit of listening to the stories of adult adoptees.

Please don't think that just because you've known one adult adoptee in your life that you've got the whole picture. Each story is unique. We need to develop the habit of lowering our defenses and listening because only adult adoptees can help us see adoption through an adopted person's eyes.

Today, I interview Tara Bradford about growing up as an international adoptee. Tara has a unique perspective as she is a transracial adoptee, a mom by both birth and adoption, and an orphan care advocate. 

Welcome, Tara, to Death by Great Wall. Tell us a little about your story.

We know that all stories of adoption begin with loss, and mine began with my relinquishment by my Korean birth family, resulting in my adoption by a Caucasian family in the US. The family I came into had a son two years older than me. 

Unfortunately, the loss did not end there.



Within a year of my adoption, the couple separated. There was much pain in my childhood from experiencing the effects of what divorce can do in a family, especially as an unattached adoptee. I was close to my mother and grandparents, but did not have a good relationship with my adoptive father. Years of emotional pain culminated in him telling me he had not wanted to adopt me, but did it only to save his marriage. As a result, at the age of 21, I legally dissolved my relationship with him and had my mom’s third husband named as my legal father. 

The challenge of being a transracial adoptee in a small town --population 800 -- with no other minorities but myself, coupled with what I was experiencing through the divorce created a lot of insecurity, identity confusion, and fear of being rejected. I’ve since reached out to my mom’s first husband and told him I forgive him and have been on a healing journey from my circumstances for the last 13 years.

Was being adopted a positive thing or a negative thing in your life?

It is both. I realize that because of the unknown circumstances of my relinquishment, I could have ended up in conditions that might have taken my life down a very different and negative path had I stayed in Korea. The positive part of being adopted is that despite the circumstances of my adoption, it brought me here to the US where I met my husband and have a very blessed life.

The negative part of adoption is also the unknown circumstances of my relinquishment. It caused me to grow up without my birth family. I experienced further abandonment with the divorce of my adoptive parents and the eventual dissolution of my relationship with my adoptive father. The effects of others' choices on my life dug deeply into my heart and soul, and the road to healing has been long.

What was it like growing up in a family with people who didn't look like you? Did you have any Asian friends or role models?

It was very difficult growing up as a transracial adoptee. My racial background was not something we discussed intentionally. My childhood was challenging because I knew I was different, and I was trying to understand where I fit in since everyone at school was white, and everyone else in my family was as well. I began to think that in order to fit in, I had to look and act white. I remember dreaming about getting my eyelids fixed so I would have folds in them and could look more like the white people around me.

I didn’t know any other Asians and only came into contact with them when we would visit a Chinese restaurant at which point I would feel terribly uncomfortable and embarrassed. I really wish my parents had been more intentional about teaching me the history of my racial background and helping me understand how to feel comfortable with my racial identity within a white culture.

What was your parents' attitude toward your birth family and birth culture? How did that affect you?

We never talked about it. I would like to believe that they respected my birth culture, and I guess I honestly can’t say how they felt about my birth family as again, it wasn’t a topic of conversation that we engaged in.

In looking back at my childhood, I can see how that was very disempowering to me as a transracial adoptee. Not understanding my birth culture or how one exists within the American culture as a transracial adoptee created a huge chasm in my life. The lack of knowledge of my birth family coupled with my ignorance of my birth culture caused me to experience a deep identity problem.

Have you ever gone back to your birth country?

I have never gone back to Korea. I hope to do so soon and have been talking with my husband about when that will be.

If you could meet your birth mother today, what would you like to ask her?

If I met my birth mother, I would want to know the circumstances of my relinquishment. There is a constant gnawing inside of me that beckons the question, “Why?” It’s as if I have a chapter of my story that has been torn from the book leaving blanks that can’t be filled in. Even though I’m at peace with not knowing, there is a sense of wonderment about my birth family.


Friends, Tara's honest, vulnerable answers brought tears to my eyes. She's given us a lot to think about. If you have a question you'd like to ask Tara, please leave a comment, and I'm sure Tara will be glad to respond. You can also hear more from Tara on her blog, Smore Stories.

Tomorrow, I'll ask Tara about how her own adoption affects the way she parents her adopted children. See you then!




Sunday, July 14, 2013

Day 14: Sharing Control



We're on the ground, safe and sound in Colorado. Our conference begins tonight

Before I share today's Preparing to Parent link, I want to share with you about something fun I've been doing this summer. I've been taking Ordinary Miracles and the Crazy 9's manual photography class, Manual 'n More.

I've always loved taking photos, and I even have a fancy DSLR camera. Problem is, for years I've used it like it was a big, bulky, expensive point and shoot.

When I looked at all those dials and modes and settings, I felt a little woozy, and I usually quickly chose that green box, fully automatic mode.

Over the years, I've gotten some great shots -- totally by accident. I was at the mercy of that beast of a camera. It controlled me; I certainly didn't control it. I didn't even understand it.

Last Friday, after just a couple of weeks in Manual 'n More, I took the above photo of my 13-year-old son, Nathan. I took it totally in manual mode. I chose the ISO. I chose the shutter speed. I chose the aperture value. And I'll tell you a little secret. Now, I even know what those words mean!

I know a lot of you are waiting to travel to adopt your new child, and I know that for some of you the wait is getting long. Now would be a great time to take a class and learn to capture amazing photos on your once-in-a-lifetime adoption trip. After our 31 days series is up, I'll fill you in a little more on the details of the class. But for now, you can learn more about Manual 'n More here.

Nancy, who teaches the Manual 'n More class, is also an adoptive mama. This week she wrote a post that perfectly illustrates what Karyn Purvis talked about in our video yesterday. Even though Nancy adopted her daughter at 12 months old, parents of older children can learn a lot from how she's handling her daughter's current struggles with food. It's a beautiful example of sharing control.

Take some time today to read "Food issues and binging 5 years later."




Saturday, July 13, 2013

Day 13: Manipulation and Control


How should you respond if you feel your adopted child is trying to manipulate and control you?

Dr. Purvis shares her insights in this short video.



Today is a travel day for my family. We're headed to Colorado. Because flying a family of six anywhere isn't cheap, we're using as many of Mike's frequent flyer miles as we can. The result: two tickets on one airline and four tickets on another. Hopefully, when all is said and done, we'll all land in Denver at somewhere around the same time. If we don't? Well, then our trip will be off to an interesting start.

Check back tomorrow for the story of how one adoptive mama is sharing control to help her daughter feel safe. It's going to be a good one.


Friday, July 12, 2013

Day 12: Unexpected Blessings


Yesterday, Kim shared about the unexpected challenges of older child adoption. Today, she gives us a glimpse into the unexpected blessings.

First Baseball Game
Step by step we climbed to the doorway that led us into the stadium. Below us expanded a stretch of vibrant green grass, a clean-swept infield, and baseball players in crisp white uniforms. It was the boys’ first "big" baseball game, a minor league game between the Iowa Cubs and the Omaha Storm Chasers.  

“Wow,” breathed Getu. “Am I dreaming?”  

Like a pendulum marking time, their eyes flipped back and forth from us to the field to each other in wordless disbelief. My husband Chris and I looked at each other, shared a small smile, and without exchanging words, we knew.

One of the unexpected blessings of older child adoption. Their firsts. Some of those joyful firsts for our 8- and 9-year-old Ethiopian sons included:  trips to the zoo, carryout pizza, ice cream cones, a camping trip with grandparents, hotel swimming pools, roadtrips, 3D movies, snow(!),  fireworks displays, and roller coasters.

First Sledding Experience
I’m not sure you’ve truly experienced joy until you’ve watched an 8-year-old lick the dripping ice cream from his first cone or seen your 7-year-old’s face spread with wonder at the sight of his first fireworks. That, my friends, is the unadulterated, pure joy that comes with older child adoption.

But the special firsts aren’t the only unexpected blessings of older child adoption.

There is also this looming, murky thing called Attachment (and it feels so important that it should be capitalized). We read about it. We worked towards it. We touched stinky boys who felt like strangers because we were working on attachment. We built routines and rituals at home that included just our small family because we were working on attachment. We made up silly games that focused on eye contact and physical touch because we were working on attachment.

Quite frankly, at times the fight for attachment felt like a far cry from a blessing.

Then, when I wasn't even thinking about it, it happened. I was watching our oldest on the playground before school one morning this winter. I thought I knew what it meant to love him, but as I watched him wander alone from group to group in a sea of bright winter coats, as he looked for a safe place to land, my heart physically ached. That pain?  It was new. And for me, that was the moment I knew. I had been fighting so long for them to be attached to me that I hadn’t realized I needed to be attached to them, too. Attachment is a hard thing. It’s difficult to define, harder yet to achieve.  However, when it’s there, it's one of the most beautiful, unexpected blessings of older child adoption.

First 3D Movie
When we decided to become first-time parents to two older children we opened ourselves up to a lot of pain and a truckload of a trauma. My husband and I have learned more about our strengths and weaknesses in the past 15 months than we did in the previous eight years of marriage. Being beaten and blasted with constant growing pains hurts. But we’ve also experienced the countless joys that come with uncovering personalities, laughing at the nuances of language learning, and yes, even answering countless questions about the lives of the characters in Phineas and Ferb.

For us, the blessings of older child adoption have far outweighed the challenges.


Thanks, Kim, for giving us a peek into the sweet side of older child adoption. You know, we talk a lot about the tough stuff, but it's important to note that the sweet times with these kids will melt your heart.  And thanks for reminding us that attachment is a parent thing, too. To read more of Kim's journey, check out her blog, Like the Love.

Read all the posts in this series, starting here.