A broken season of healing

Broken times, call for broken words, ramblings and tear smeared ink. Do you ever have so much in your brain and heart that you HAVE to sit down and write it out, or you may explode? Because you feel like talking about whatever it is that is weighing you down is too exhausting after you have repeated your words 45 times a day for weeks and even months, to doctors, nurses, therapist and state workers.
So, today as my house is calm, quiet, safe and a few of my little humans play next to me, I will spill my heart and I am sure share more than I should. But what do we have to lose?
Our home is filled to the brim with love, like crazy, I couldn’t breathe without you in it kind of love. There is no place like home to me, the people God filled this home with, are my tribe, my safest place and have my heart completely. I love the crazy noise, the laughter and 98% of the time, I love how perfectly the kids fit together like a glove and I am not talking about OJ’s glove, but a perfectly tailored glove. Even as I write this, I can’t help but smile thinking how awesome our kids are. How much they have made this house a home and how blessed I am to be their mom. I am sure all of that sounds beautiful and what so many folks thInk of when adoption is brought up, because it is. Adoption is beautiful and at the core of God’s heart. But there is also another side, a broken side, a hard as hell side to adoption, a side most of us just don’t want to talk about for so many reasons.
Trauma.
The absolutely devastating trauma some of these kids go through, is life shattering, DNA changing and crippling to name just a few things. There is a secret society of moms and dads that none of us wanted to be part of, but there are thousands upon thousands of us. The tired and yet very determined parents that are fighting to save their child’s life, all while being aware there is very limited help and understanding out there.
We have spent the last year and a half learning about abbreviations like, RAD and ODD. We have tried to educate friends and family as much as we can. We have spent the last five days between home and a hospital, between eight parts of our hearts being at home and one part being away. Although, it is the safest and best choice for us all right now, we are broken at this decision, our hearts are bleeding and we are so dang mentally exhausted. We want more than anything to see our child through this pain to the other side of his trauma and yet, it’s becoming painfully apparent how deep and hard this road is going to be. He is worth it, our other kids are worth it, our marriage is worth it and peace in our home is worth it. But here, here lies a gut wrenching hard spot to be in as a parent, wanting your missing link to be home in its rightful spot in the family, while also seeing the difference your home has when that child is away. Guilt, shame and brokenness, those are the words hanging around Ben and I. They hang around reminding us of those moments we feel a sense of exhale, as we also feel a sense of not being able to breathe, because our baby isn’t home. There is just nothing like it, no amount of PS MAPPs training classes, well intended and informed people that walked this lonely, hard road before us can prepare a Foster and or Adoptive parent for what severe trauma will look like in your home. There is also no class or preparation that will prepare you for the fight you will have inside you for that very same child either. The natural momma/poppa bear that will come out of you, all while guilt, shame and brokenness are dancing around simultaneously, is immense.
Our family is on hold right now, we are in a moment of stand still and yet moving at a fierce speed. Have you ever road The Gravatron at the state fair? Is that still it’s name and is it still even around or did I just age myself? I use to love this ride as a child. It’s a circular ride that looks like a spaceship, you go inside and it moves so fast that you stick to the wall from the gravity racing around you. You are moving so fast that your body literally sticks to the wall and yet when you get off the ride you realize you never really moved anywhere. That’s where we are. Somewhere on that ride moving fast and yet not moving at all. One day we will get off this ride and we will move on to the next, but for now this is the ride we are on and sometimes it makes me want to puke and other times I go on for a second and third ride.
Do you all see how much I trust and love you? I just let you into our home, our hearts and the hard broken places, not just the rainbow and unicorn parts, but those places we like to pretend don’t really exist. Thanks for loving us so much and giving us a safe places to be, sit and even cry with us. Those gifts are priceless. There’s always extra seat on this ride and if you can stomach the speed and dizziness of it, please come sit next to us and join us. Life would be impossible if we didn’t have the friends and family we have. God set us up long before this season, knowing just what we would need and it included you!

2 thoughts on “A broken season of healing

  1. “Do you ever have so much in your brain and heart that you HAVE to sit down and write it out, or you may explode?” Yup, all the time. And once I get it down on paper, I feel a little lighter.

    My husband and I adopted through foster care. Our older daughter has RAD and ADHD, our younger daughter has anxiety and sensory processing disorder. I feel your pain, your struggles, your guilt and shame. I pray God gives you peace through this difficult time.

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    1. Thank you. We have FASD, PTSD, ADHD but in our home RAD and ODD have been the hardest and most painful to walk through thus far. Worth it? Absolutely, but very painful. I pray the same peace for your home.

      Like

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