10 Things YOU CAN DO to Support Parents of PTSD/RADish Children

Parenting hurt kids is rewarding, but it is hard.  It can be isolating and lonely.  Even people I thought would understand, haven’t always.  Even the parent of an older, internationally adopted child once told me, “You and your friends scare me.”  I don’t know about how you handle things emotionally, but that didn’t slide off my back without cutting my heart deeply along the way.

Still, I believe most people want to support families who are raising hurt kids.  They just don’t know what to do or say.  They don’t know when to step up, or when to step back.  Some think they know better, even though they’ve never walked in these shoes.  (They’re never helpful.)  Some walk in similar shoes but only want to draw close when they themselves are hurting. 

Through the last five or six years, I’ve come to know a lot of trauma mamas who are raising hurt kids.  Sometimes they’re supporting me or others; sometimes they need support themselves.  I'm friends with a mama that is hurting SO much right now.  I've dealt with some things recently and am doing well, but when I'm not, I wish someone - SOME ONE - could hear my heart, too.  I’ve heard several things, from hurting mamas - over-and-over again - things that parents of hurt kids wish to God would happen, so they might not feel so alone.  My friend is voicing some of these things now.  This list is not meant as a personal groan session.  It is genuinely put "out there" to tell people who care what we wish we could say in those lowest of times.  Here are ten things I've heard (and sometimes felt) most often:

 1. When you ask how a trauma mama is doing, and she says, “Okay,” but she doesn’t sound all that enthusiastic about it, tell her to “quit joshing” and tell you the truth.  Then, be ready to hear it, without judgment, and without trying to “fix” it if you don’t know anything about it.  And PLEASE don’t say, “You need some time away.”  Most trauma mamas already know that, but trying to actually get away is nearly impossible.  When we do, we usually have hell to pay when we get back home, because we left our traumatized kid and they’re triggered beyond triggered by the “abandonment.”

 2. When we say we’re sleep deprived, please say something like, “I’m sorry.  I can see in your eyes that you’re tired.”  Don’t tell us you know "just what we're talking about" because you stayed up to watch a movie and have some fun, and then you couldn’t sleep because it was so exciting.  We can’t sleep because our minds won’t turn off thinking about the misery our children are in and the trouble they've gotten into, and because we're also listening to see if our kids are getting up and trying to sneak around to do something they're not supposed to do.

 3. When we ask you to pray for us, take the two minutes and do it, right then and there.  On the spot.  And give your trauma mama friend a hug.

 4. If she is less than kind to you, or if she should happen to snap at you one day, and you know that it’s not like her to do that, please don’t hold it against her.  Hold her accountable, but recognize she's hurting and without any reserve in that moment.  Try not to snap back.  Don't say hurtful things in return.  Whatever you do, please don’t push her away.  Reach out to her.  She needs you more then than ever.  Be there for her, especially if she's been there for you when you've hurt.  She knows you’re tired and beat down.  But, she's tired, too.  She's beat down, too.  She's prayed, but she couldn’t find her joy in that moment.  It might feel like you’re hugging a porcupine, but none of us is all that cuddly ALL the time, including you.    

 5. Parents of traumatized/attachment disordered (or still attaching) kids need friends who don’t hug their kids, don’t let them sit on their laps, don’t pick them up, don’t give them gifts, don’t say “I wish you could come live with me,” don’t invite them on outings or to their house without talking to us first, and don’t believe everything that comes out of our kids’ mouths without checking it out – especially if they’re saying something about us that seems “off” in any way.  Attachment disordered kids are masters at triangulating adults.  They may tell you we said something negative about you, when we never even thought it, let alone said it.  Attachment disordered kids often "shop" for new and improved versions of parents (usually those with more money who could give them more “stuff”).  Some of them can come up with pretty horrible stories about their parents that just are not true.  Again, please don't jump to conclusions.  Most of our kids still need time to learn what it means to be a family, what appropriate affection means, and that Mommy IS their mother and Daddy IS their father. 

 6. No matter what the situation, remember the parents are the ones who should be in charge of their children.  They know their children best.  Do not lump a traumatized/attachment disordered child into the “all kids” category.  Do not say, “But all kids do that.”  Not “all kids” have the same motivations as traumatized kids.  Allow experienced therapeutic parents to teach you some new skills and knowledge.  We don’t know it all, but neither do you (even if you are a teacher, or a parent, or a grandparent, or a therapist).

 7. Surprise us by bringing us a healthy, but kid-friendly meal.  Call a few hours in advance so your trauma mama friend doesn't drag herself to the grocery store, trying to figure out what she can throw together for dinner while dealing with a triggered child.  (See #1-4 above.)

 8. Love her.  Just be there.  Take her out for coffee while the kids are in school.  (She'll even pay her own way.)  Talk about the garden you’re planning and get her mind off things at home – or just listen if she needs that.  Again, listen without judgment -- without trying to fix anything.  And pray for her then and there, too.

 9. When you have a question, talk to her privately.  Do not ask her about a concern, or if her child can do something with you, go somewhere with your family, or have a gift from you (even a piece of candy) in front of the child.  This does not matter if they are 3, 6, 13, or 16.

10. Remind her when things are tough that her child CAME TO HER this way.  She did not do anything to hurt her child.  Remind her that God is near the brokenhearted and He does not bruise the tender reed.  Remind her, without judgment in your voice, that she loves her child and he loves her as best he can.  Tell her you love her, too.  Remind her God loves her especially.

What Friends Don't See

That title would probably more accurately read, “What Friends Don’t GET TO See.”

I received a lovely phone call from one of my best friends last night.  She wanted to tell me how well my two youngest kids behaved yesterday afternoon.  They were responsible and mature.  Pleasant.  Appropriate.  Studious.  They were everything a parent could possibly want in a child. 

This friend is also the mom of an older, internationally-adopted child.  Fortunately, she knows better.  She knew I’d see something different.  This behavior is not my children – not to me, anyhow.   She knew this behavior would not last once the children were out her door and in our care again.  She knew our kids would be stressed.  She knew I was stressed.  She just wanted me to know that I didn’t need to worry about how they’d behaved while she had them.  ‘Made me feel a little jealous, but it was nice to know.

The reason this friend had my kids yesterday is because I spent the day in a hospital emergency room with my youngest biological son.  He is two years older than our youngest son, but many years “older” in social and emotional development.  They are four school years apart.  Youngest son feels his most competitive towards this son.  He feels most threatened for our love, time, and devotion with this son over any of the other siblings. 

Yesterday, our 18-year-old was dehydrated from food poisoning.  He’s still pretty sick this morning.  He’s sleeping now, as I write, but it’s been a long night for his mom.  I am thankful for a school day today.  Even with all the therapeutic parenting tools in my toolbox, I don’t think I would have done well with my hurt kids this morning.  I knew there would be fallout from yesterday, but that doesn’t mean I have the energy to deal with it.  My daughter was “bouncing off the walls” hyper this morning, being too cute, and using her baby voice.  She could not leave me alone and demanded near constant attention.  My youngest son would have nothing to do with me.  He was surly and withdrawn, wouldn’t look at me, let me know he didn’t need me, and didn’t say a word to me – not even when he got the trash without being asked and I thanked him for doing so.

I have to tell you, these are the times I feel most like smacking him upside the head.  (Yeah, I wrote that.)

But here’s what I know and what my friends don’t get to see:  My kids were scared spitless yesterday.  They’re still scared today.  They got notes in the middle of class, telling them someone was getting them from school other than me.  (The note from my daughter’s school office was AWFUL.  “X picking you up.  Red Suburban.  Don’t get violin.  Come right out.  Mom with student in hospital.”  She didn’t know WHO was in the hospital or why.  To say my daughter was terrified is putting it mildly.)  Then, they got taken to my friend’s house and they stayed there until after supper.  While she explained to them what was going on and reassured them (and they behaved appropriately concerned in front of her), they were triggered by past trauma.  Very, very triggered.  They still are.

“How sick is my brother?”  “Is he going to die?”  “Can my mom take care of me?”  “Is my mom going to die?”  “Does my mom still love me?”  “Does my mom love my brother more than me?”  “Do I still matter?”  “What about me?”  “Where’s my dad?”  -- Sounds like the thinking of a 2-year-old, doesn’t it?  That’s trauma.  That’s exactly the emotional age at which my children are responding to their brother’s illness, to my being less available, to an abrupt change in their routine yesterday, and to thoughtless notes from distracted school secretaries.  I cannot expect them to behave like 13 and 16 year olds today – or probably for days to come.  Trauma stinks.

Tired as I am, they need me.  They need to be reassured.  They need me to walk them through a process of process.  Even when I don’t feel like it.

This, my fellow trauma mama friends, is why we need one another.  Do not isolate yourself.  Seek out friendship.  Find other blogs online.  Maybe even sign up for Diana’s find-a-friend project.

I am very blessed to have a good friend who is also an adoptive mom nearby.  But this is a recent blessing.  Through most of my journey, it has been (and still is) my online friends who have always “been there” for me.  YOU are the ones who get it.  You are the ones who know this walk.  It sure can be exhausting, but it’s a lot easier when you know someone has your back.

Thanks for that.  (Thanks especially to my friends who helped yesterday.  You know who you are.)

Ever been dumped?

Ever feel abandoned?  Like nobody “gets” you?  Ever feel like you’ve placed your trust in someone you thought would always be there, but they weren’t?  Have you ever been excluded, or left out of things?  Have you been told by someone that they would pray for you when things were tough, but what they really should have said to be honest – to say what their body language was screaming – was, “You scare me, and I don’t really want to get involved?”  Ever feel as though you’ve been dumped by someone you care about, and that you thought cared about you, but didn’t?

I know a lot of trauma mamas who have experienced these feelings.  Parenting children who are dealing with the rough stuff of a traumatic past can sometimes be very isolating.  Their “stuff” is weird.  Their “stuff” causes problems for others.  Their “stuff” makes us look like we don’t know how to parent.  I’ve also read a lot of blogs, written by moms who were left out of girls’ nights or get-a-way weekends.  I’ve talked with women who’ve tried to make friends with other moms in their churches – even other adoptive moms --- but they cannot make a real connection because those moms either don’t understand therapeutic parenting or trauma, or they want to pretend trauma doesn’t exist.  I know a mom who trusted other moms – other adoptive moms, in fact – and was abandoned by those moms when things started to get rough for her and some of her other trauma mama friends.  They told her they needed to “simplify,” that they “didn’t want to think about” those hard things, and that her life and the lives of her fellow trauma mama friends frightened them.  Talk about a sucker punch!  It’s not fair to be abandoned by people you trust.  It’s not right to have people who are supposed to be the people you think would be the most trustworthy not stick around when the going gets tough.  It hurts.  It’s not fun.  And it can leave trauma mamas with PTSD scars of their own that make it hard to trust again.

I hate it.  I really, really hate those feelings.  I’ve felt that hurt and that sting.  I’ve experienced that feeling of abandonment when someone told me they thought life with hurt kids was too much for them to “handle.”  I’ve wondered, “What are YOU handling?!  -- A few minutes of empathy? – Of listening to someone else’s pain?  This is too much for you to handle?” I’ve also wondered, “What about bearing one another’s burdens?  Is it too much to ask, unless you’re the one asking?”  And I’ve been hurt.  And I can get pretty angry.  It’s hard to trust again when you’ve felt so abandoned.  I’ve wanted to hide.  I’ve wanted to run.  And the cycle of isolation is compounded even more, because I’m afraid I’ll be hurt again.  (Thankfully, in that hurt, I’ve also been reminded to try very, very hard NOT to do that to someone else!  I’ve asked God to make me more aware.  I certainly want to ask for forgiveness and make up for it when I’m thoughtless enough to let someone feel as though I’ve abandoned them.  After all, I usually have no clue.  That’s what “thoughtless” means.)  Still, we can’t stay in that place of hurt ourselves.  We have to let it go.  We have to open up again.  We have to try to remember we’ve been thoughtless, too.  We have to remember there are times we didn’t realize what our words or our actions did to someone else.  All we can do is pray we are more of a blessing than we are a burden and move on.  We can do that if we have a basis of love – of knowing how to bear one another’s burdens – to begin with. 

Have you ever felt ANY of that?  Have you ever experienced ANYTHING like this?  Can you relate at all?

The gift that the pain of abandonment for trauma mamas is this:  we get just a little taste of what life’s been like for our hurt kids.  Before their adoption, they experienced all these feelings and often, much more.  However, for them, it all happened before they were old enough to know they could be okay or that they could let the thoughtlessness of others go.  However it happened, they were abandoned, before they were able to take care of themselves, or knew how to move on – to move past the hurt.  For them, the cycle of isolation wasn’t one or two traumatic events that shook their world, it was their world!  So, how does anyone survive those raw, hard, painful feelings?  Real feelings.  Real, yucky feelings?  Yet our kids do survive.  Our kids are still here.  Where they live, who they live with, is different.  And they survive that, too.  What may have crushed any one of us is simply a part of matter-of-fact life for them.  It’s not fair.  It hurts.  It’s not fun.  And it leaves PTSD scars that run deep, and it makes it hard to trust again.

So trauma mamas, can you relate?  Can you get a glimpse of what it’s like for your hurt child to wake up and have to navigate the world with raw feelings ALL the time?  Strangely, I think most of us can.  I think if you’re reading this, and you KNOW you’re a “trauma mama,” then you can absolutely relate.  You’re aware of your child’s past and the needs that exist in their life because of their traumatic past.  You’re aware – painfully aware – of how it affects their now, as well as their future.  You’re aware of how it affects YOUR life now, and YOUR future.  And you are hoping, you’re PRAYING, and you’re hoping some more, for some peace in your life and for someone who “gets it,” so you won’t feel so isolated so often.

Some of you, dear readers, share my Christian faith.  Some may not.  I’m not a far right-wing, thump-the-Bible-over-your-head kind of person, but I am a Christian.  For me, that faith shows through in some of what I write and it will also show through on this blog.  I hope it doesn’t turn you away if you don’t share my faith, though.  I still think we can learn from one another.  But again, for me, faith is what gets me through the lonely times.  I’ve been called “weak” for depending so heavily on God and for calling out to Christ when I feel most afraid or alone.  To those folks I say, “Yes!  Weak?  That’s me!  But my God is strong.”  I depend on the knowledge that He is there for me and that He loves me – no more and no less than anyone else – but that His love is perfect and unfathomable.  I may not always know exactly what that means – and I may not understand fully who He is, but I know He is there.  I know He hears me.  I know He blesses me.  When I cry out, it is true I most often cry out for Him to come to me “with skin on.”  I ask for Him to send me someone I can see and hear, who will see me and hear me, and “get it.”  I ask for someone who won’t leave when things get tough.  I ask also to be that someone for a mom who needs the same.

My prayer for this blog is that it can serve as a way for me to be that person for a trauma mama “out there somewhere” who needs a friend that “gets it.”  I certainly don’t have all the answers.  I don’t think any one of us -- even those of us who have been at this therapeutic parenting thing for a while now -- would say we have all the answers.  We just know some things we’ve tried that don’t work, and we know some other things that have worked.  We keep trying new things, too, because new trauma drama pops up all the time.  It’s an on-going process.  It’s a 24/7 career.  If we can help one another along the way, even by just BEING THERE and being that one friend that doesn’t exclude, doesn’t run, doesn’t say “I’m praying” without also sticking around through the rough stuff, that doesn’t bail – well, then, I think we’ve found a very good thing.

Thanks again for reading this far.  We’re just getting started.  I have a lot on my brain I want to share with you.  Parenting stuff.  Therapy stuff.  Movie reviews for trauma parenting.  Ideas about “stuff” for our kids for Christmas and about how to handle the holidays.  How to be there for someone who’s struggling.  Yep, lots of things.  If you like what you’re reading so far, will you share it with another trauma mama?  Please link my blog to yours and let me know your blog address, too.  Click “share” for Facebook or Twitter below.  Click on +1 to recommend the blog to others.  And thanks for standing by me as I get this thing rolling.  It means more than you know.