My History

I had stepped off the plane in April 2013 with my new son from China. He was five years old, had thalassemia b major, cute as a button, with trauma pouring out of his sweet little soul.

But I was good, I had read the books. I had the attachment tips memorized. I rocked him in a blanket and cuddled him close to me. I took the classes. I was golden.

Until I wasn't. Whoa, Nellie, I wasn't golden, okay, or anything that resembled okay. I had heard the whispers that this would be hard. I had read the blogs that talked about dealing with their trauma and the few sentences that mentioned the difficulty of bringing home a child from a hard place. But nobody, as in not a single soul, mentioned that I would be traumatized. Nobody said I would be walking through trauma, or that 9 months later I would have symptoms of PTSD. People, I would have remembered that. It wasn't mentioned, I tell ya.

I found myself alone in my bedroom, slumping against my bedroom door, and yanking on the roots of my hair. I felt trapped and alone with the secrets that had invaded my home. I saw pictures of friends kids smiling away and I posted my own pictures of my giggling, glorious son.  I showed videos of the laughter ringing through the house and hid within the depths of my phone the videos of the screaming to prove that I wasn't touching a hair on his body when that screaming happened.

Thankfully, I had a friend who had been there and she assured me this was normal. That helped a lot. It didn't help in the  middle of the traumatic events, but it did help in the middle of the night when I started to blame myself and wonder what on God's green earth I had done.

I prayed and sought God's wisdom on how to help I felt over and over again that His answer was the creation of this blog, a journal through authentic honesty in adoption.

It's terrifying to consider putting it out there, but I believe it needs to be done. Friends, we are walking through the fire of trauma when we bring a traumatized child home. We need to be open, be real, talk about how to help one another. We need to figure out how WE survive adoption. How do our marriages survive? How do we fit back into the world? How do we go back to real life after walking the halls of an orphanage? How do we deal with the guilt of those left behind? How do we survive this trauma that God is asking us to walk for Him? And how in the middle of all of our broken places can we possibly bring glory to His great name?

1 comment:

  1. Hello, new friend. My son didn't speak until he was almost four. Water was "ah" and so on. My business partner Jen and I run a website and would like to feature a post of yours that you're particularly proud of and want more eyes on. The site is and gets some really great views. If you're interested, please email us at Best to you and yours.