we said YES to adoption!

We

Raising a child from birth to adulthood seems like a cycle of teaching attachment and then teaching how to let go. First, you try to get a newborn to attach to a breast for feeding then after a few months, a few years for some, you ween them off of the breast and onto a bottle. The process starts all over again. Attach to the bottle then ween to a sippy cup and so on. Just think about it: we use things to comfort and nourish and soothe our children just so later on we can teach them that they will have to grow up and move on from them. A blankie, a pacifier, a crib, a toy, a home, etc. It’s a cycle of teaching them to attach and let go because that is what life is all about.

Well, parenting an adopted child feels completely opposite of that to me. I feel like I am having to parent backwards. Instead of teaching Jaydn to attach and let go, I am trying to teach her to let go and attach, let go of her defense mechanisms and the tools she has been using to survive her almost animalistic institutionalized life up until now and attach to us at the heart level, let go of her fears of abandonment and sense of self-sufficiency and attach to us, her loving family who she can trust and feel safe with because we aren’t going anywhere.

It is really hard to parent this way after years of doing it the other way. Call me selfish, but I enjoy the times when Jaxon and Jovie are playing in the other room while I do my quiet time or dishes or whatever I need to do for a little while. I have taught them to trust a babysitter or a Sunday school teacher so that Nathan and I can have a date, or I can enjoy worship with our church body. Teaching even toddler-aged kids to let go has its perks! But, parenting backwards is a conscious sacrifice of those perks. With Jaydn on my lap 24/7, I can only catch bits of the sermon between feeding her crackers or keeping an eye on her as she destroys my notes with a pen. Nathan and I don’t go on dates. Dishes, quiet times, and whatever else I need to do will just have to wait until she is asleep at night. And, to be honest, by then, I’m too tired, so it simply doesn’t get done.

Another example is last night. We went to a worship and music ministry party. We couldn’t get a babysitter because it’s too early in Jaydn’s development to leave her with anyone else so Nathan and I drove separately just in case I would need to leave because of the kids. So, as Nathan wandered around meeting and greeting people he will be working so closely with in the coming years, I sat on a couch with a 40lb 2-year-old squishing my face at an almost painful strength, knotting my hair with her forceful fingers, and then jerking herself backwards at random times with brut force almost breaking my arms as I attempt to catch her each time. A sweet new friend offered to watch her for a minute while I ventured to the chocolate fountain, and I jumped at the chance. “OH! YES! Kid freedom!,” I thought to myself. I returned from the other room a few minutes later, knowing I wasn’t really “supposed” to do that, but Lord knows I needed it (both the break and the chocolate-covered fruit). Then, it was back to my lap she came. I kept thinking about how the other two kids were upstairs, entertaining themselves, and what a gift that truly had become to me as one tired mommy. I went upstairs to join them and sat on the floor while Jaydn would get up long enough to grab a toy and then plop onto my lap again. The process of her seeing me as different than every other woman in the room is an arduous one.

Please know that I am not complaining. Actually, I am learning out loud. I am learning how to parent someone who has no experiential reason to trust/love me. I am learning how to walk through every painful door of her self-sufficiency and place Christ’s redemption story there. I am not Jaydn’s mommy because I had to be. I chose this role out of obedience to God’s command through Scripture. So, as in all things I experience in my life where I feel ill-equipped and unable, I believe that God has placed me here to be more reliant on Him. I know He can parent forwards, backwards, upwards, downwards, sideways and upside down–He is The Everlasting Father. My prayer is that through all of this, He will also teach me how to let go (and let God) and teach Jaydn how to attach.

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I have been married going on 8 years to a worship pastor, a rock star, and the most involved and intentional dad I have ever seen! Together, we have the privilege of parenting three amazing children (Jaxon- 5 1/2, Jovie, 2 1/2, and Jaydn 2). Jaydn recently came to us through adoption from Uganda, Africa. We just moved to Little Rock, Arkansas, but I am a west coast girl at heart. I enjoy photography, adventure recreation, and teaching high-school students about the most important decision they could ever make: to follow Jesus.

In the six months that our daughter Grace has been home from China, she has continued to bond beautifully with my husband, son, and me, in particular. Whenever she is sad, frustrated, scared, or lonely, she doesn’t hesitate one second to call out for me or run into my arms. She wraps her arms around my neck in a tight hug, and I thank God for the special priviledge of being able to reassure or cheer up my baby girl by simply holding her or looking into her eyes. While Grace can definitely be clingy at times, I am grateful she has bonded so well to her immediate family and grown enough in her security to begin branching out in acceptance of and affection for others.

But even with this incredible progress, moments of grief still occasionally surface. And during those (now rare) times, nothing I do seems to help. Such a moment happened yesterday during Grace’s nap. While she normally gets out of her bed and comes to find me if she feels scared or insecure, she woke up screaming and crying in bed. She was crying out for “Mommy,” but my face and embrace brought no comfort. In fact, they brought more anguish. Grace pushed me away, arched her back, pumped her fists, and screamed with agonizing cries of anger and deep sadness for at least 10 minutes before she would even let me touch her. All of these things are expressions of trauma and grief. And, given that Grace is such a strong and happy little girl, I sometimes forget what huge changes she endured in the first 16 months of her life. I sometimes forget that she was torn from a home and a foster family that she had grown to love for 10 months. When she cried out for “Mommy” yesterday and yet seemed even more agitated to see my face, I wondered if maybe she had dreamed about her foster mom. Consciously, she may not even remember China. But, she’s not so far removed from that part of her life that images would not surface during the mind’s vulnerable state of slumber.

There are typically triggers for regression in sleep, night terrors, grief, etc. If you have adopted or are planning to adopt, keep these in mind so you won’t be caught off guard (as I was yesterday):

• changes in routine
• overstimulation
• separation from parents
• introduction of new activities or experiences
• stressful circumstances like hospital visits or doctor’s appointments that may trigger preadoption memories

Grace experienced four of these factors over the last few days, so I’m not sure which one is to blame. Probably the combination of them all! The mind works in mysterious ways, so a child may respond very positively to a new experience and not be conscious of the effect on his or her brain. (You’ll find more details on this in adoption/attachment books.) So for example, I took Grace to Disney’s Princess Wishes on Ice. She had a blast! But, it was the largest crowd she’d ever seen. Add on the lights, music, skaters, and her beloved Mickey Mouse in “real life,” and her brain may have begun working overtime to process the excitement and stimulation of it all. Often, the brain copes as if it were under stress, and regressive behaviors or responses can result. The show may not have been at all what led to her naptime disruption, but I had to remind myself of the triggers so I don’t combine so many potential factors in the future as I mistakenly did this past week.

Truthfully, I hope Grace’s mind does hold onto a few images or memories from her life in China. It will eventually help her as she struggles to understand and build her identity. I can’t imagine having the first 16 months of my life be a black void… no pictures, no stories, no details of babyhood. But, it breaks this mommy’s heart to see her daughter wrestle with grief. Some comfort comes from knowing Grace feels loved. I feel certain she loves me. And, I am sure she sometimes misses her foster mother, even if it’s through vague and implicit memories. Moments like we had yesterday are very normal for adopted children. But, I pray everyday that the Lord will fill the dark areas in her mind and heart with light and redemptive love. And I hope she continues to dream.

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Kelley is a stay-at-home-mom living in Birmingham, Alabama with her husband Scott and their two toddlers (who are 10 months apart!). Carter is their miracle baby and biological son born in January 2008. Their daughter, Virginia Grace, was born in November 2008 and brought home from China through the miracle of adoption in April 2010. They are anxiously waiting to adopt and bring home their newest daughter, Caroline Liyun (age 11), from China in late spring of 2011. Kelley and Scott also have six babies in Heaven, lost through miscarriages, who never made it into their arms. Having finished seminary right before Carter’s birth, Kelley is now enjoying motherhood, freelance writing, and a bible teaching/speaking ministry for women. She enjoys documenting the trials and joys of family building, adoption, parenting, food allergies, and walking with the Lord on her blog

One of the great things about having older children who don’t live at home is they see us through fresh eyes. They know us extremely well, but they aren’t with us day after day.

Sweet Pea made an insightful comment last weekend that I’ve been turning over in my mind for days. For 3 1/2 years, Russ and I have been trying everything we possibly can to bring healing to Dimples’ broken heart, teach her to be a “family girl,” give her strategies for calming herself, and on and on. Sweet Pea observed that for the first time Dimples seems to be working with us – not just waiting for us to fix her or even resisting healing. She wants this for herself.

I realized that Sweet Pea is right. Dimples wants to be happy! She wants to be our girl! She wants affection and closeness! She wants to be attached to us!

Deborah, her therapist, challenged her to have a good month of positive behavior. This includes controlling negative behavior that has plagued us. Each night, when we mark the calendar with a small red star, her sense of confidence and mastery seem to increase. The sweetest thing is that when she successfully makes it through November, her special prize is lunch with Daddy.

I am hopeful…cautiously hopeful. I don’t know what it is that seems to be clicking. Is it therapy, time, a technique we’ve learned, school, rocking in the ugly chair, conquering food problems? There are so many variables, but I know without a doubt that it is flowing from God; He is the healer of broken hearts.

We are enjoying our little Dimples – there is love flowing back and forth – not just painful, grinding, effort.

I think we just might make it (imagine a deep sigh of relief right here).

If you are in the midst of deep trial with your adopted children, I want to encourage you to press on. We grow weary, scared, and hopeless, but I am here to say that it takes time, lots of time, for children from “hard places” to heal. Don’t give up too soon.

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Lisa Qualls has been married to her husband Russ for 26 years and is the mother of 11 children who came to her by both birth and adoption. As she winds her way through the challenges of attachment, trauma, healing, and life, she shares what she is learning in the hope of helping other families. She earnestly believes in the power of God to heal children”s broken hearts and is privileged to participate in that process with her own children. Her life is a journey filled with moderate successes and some brilliant failures, all covered by the grace of Jesus Christ. To learn more about Lisa and her family, please visit her blog, A Bushel and A Peck.