November is National Adoption Month.
And for so many people, they take that time to push hard, advocating for kids in need of families. They share stories of how adoption has changed their lives for the better. They say how blessed their families are with their adopted child. They say things like they feel like they gave birth to their adopted child. They exude joy and pride over their adopted kids. Awesomeness! That's how it should be. But....
National Adoption Month is a trigger, after trigger, after trigger for me.
Because our story comes from the flip-side of the record.
Our adoption journey was a nightmare from day one. And if you've been around my blog, our adoption diary, long enough, you've read nearly all the gory details.
And just because you bring them home, doesn't mean they are suddenly okay.
We're living a life of Reactive Attachment Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The daughter we fought like mad for cannot and will not accept our love. She pushes us away daily. She lives in a constant state of hyper-vigilance over every aspect of her life from food, to noises, to objects, to the daily schedule, you name it.
I once advocated for children in need of families. I once even thought perhaps we'd adopt again, even if it were from US foster care. Our adoption story has only brought us more stress and more pain, including secondary PTSD for me and stressed out boys. Blessings from adoption are few in our household. I struggle to get out of bed in the morning, even though it means putting our girl on the bus to school and getting a nice, long 8 hour break from her. And then the anxiety revs back up come 4:30pm when her bus arrives home and I have no clue who will be coming off of that big yellow school bus. I long to go back to the time when we were a happy, comfortable, family of four.
Finding help for a 7 year old child is nearly impossible where we are. Many therapists would take on a new client, if only she were 13. Those who treat kids younger than 13 are nearly impossible to find, and once found, I learn they aren't taking on new clients. If we can find someone, therapies will cost us thousands of dollars in 2018, won't be covered by insurance and will force us to drive all over the Twin Cities just to find some relief, some help, some hope of moving forward instead of being stuck in RAD & PTSD. And much like a cancer, there is not cure for RAD, only treatments that help.
So, National Adoption Month isn't all sunshine and roses for everyone. National Adoption Month makes me want to sink deeper under the covers and bury myself alive, never to see the light of day every again. The guilt, the regrets, the grief, the stress, the anxiety, torture me nearly every minute of every day.
Before anyone thinks this is one giant solo pity party, I can give you dozens of names of people in the trenches with me, fighting the battle of trauma, attachment and anxiety that comes with adoption. We speak private, true words to each other because there are so few who honestly understand. We are a tight knit family. They may keep their voices quiet, but I will not any longer. Our voices need to be heard because we need change and we need help, our kids need help. We cannot let the kids' stories end like this! So, we press on.
National Adoption Month is not for everyone.
