Trauma Schwauma!

 

I’ve been reading Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership by Ruth Haley Barton, and in the book she uses Moses as a case study. She says:

“Even though this was a fairly happy ending and one that contains much evidence of God’s grace, it still made for a convoluted childhood by today’s therapeutic standards! While it is good to be careful not to go too far in imposing contemporary meanings on ancient texts, we might at least acknowledge that Moses’ early childhood experiences were quite traumatic by any standard.”[1] 

I totally agree. And, I believe these type of early childhood experiences are quite traumatic for all adoptees by any standard in any time, ancient or present day . Everyone doesn’t share that opinion of course.

I have had people mock me for saying that there is trauma present in adoption. I have had this experience with family members as well as strangers. Two adoptive parents visited the Adoptee Restoration facebook page a while back and were making fun in the comments, saying, “Trauma Schwauma!!!” and other equally distasteful things.

I have heard it said, “Never mock a pain you haven’t endured.” I believe no one should mock a pain, period. People have to be sick to laugh at someone’s pain whether they agree with them or not. Whether they even like them or not.

On the issue of trauma and adoption, author Mirah Riben shares: 

 “For the adoptee, adoption is a trauma of loss and separation that can result in PTSD.”[2] 

Some people find this laughable. They just can’t wrap their heads around the fact that you can have PTSD from being adopted.  

I do believe adoptees can move forward. (I have. I am not a believer in “getting over” but I am a strong believer in “moving forward.”) Part of moving forward is to actually be able to acknowledge and grieve a loss.  You can't move forward without defining reality and dealing with it.

I can’t understand why so many people have a hard time recognizing that adoptees have a loss to grieve. Until that is validated it is very hard to move forward. I am blessed that while I have had some people scoff at my beliefs on this, I’ve found so many more (especially in the adoptee community) who affirm and encourage.   

Many adoptive parents will scratch their heads and wonder why and how in the world their kid went off the rails. Maybe they haven’t yet. But I’d bet my bottom dollar they will at some point. And maybe, just maybe, Trauma Schwauma has something to do with it.

---

[1] Ruth Haley Barton, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership: Seeking God in the Crucible of Ministry (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2012), 35.

[2] Mirah Riben, “Adoption-Related Trauma and Moral Injury,” Huffpost, June 27, 2016.

No, I Will Not Pretty-Up the Details. Why I Don't Agree With Positive Adoption Language (PAL)

The world relentlessly attempts to squeeze us into their mold of prettying up the details.

Proponents of what is known as “Positive Adoption Language” implore us to say, “made an adoption plan” instead of “relinquished” or “surrendered” or the dreaded, “given up.”

Stop putting your spin on it, please.

I was relinquished.
I was surrendered.
I was given up. 

Until I fully faced that reality, I could not move forward.

These same proponents of PAL want me to say I “made contact with” my “biological” mother instead of saying I reunited with my natural mother. What a crock. Made contact? What do you call nine months of living inside someone's body? 

My mother and I already shared nine months together.  I reunited with her, this person I had already lived with for nine months. As far as being natural, that’s exactly who she was – my natural mother. (I say was because she is now deceased.) 

It is natural to conceive, and deliver a baby. That’s something God has naturally created human beings to be able to do although I do realize some people struggle with the trauma of infertility. And that makes me sad for them. Bottom line though is, I was conceived and birthed through natural means. Spin that any way that you want, but the truth is --I was born to this woman, and she was my mother.

And by the way, it’s the most natural thing to keep your kids, not to surrender them being that only 2% of children are relinquished. Do you like how I used surrendered and relinquished in the same sentence? This might cause the PAL proponents to need a  valium.   

I'd say conceiving, carrying, and delivering your child is about as natural as it gets. 

You PAL folks want me to say I “was” adopted, not that I “am” adopted. Are you on crack? Seriously. My natural family doesn’t go away because a few papers are signed. These are real people. 

The institution of adoption creates new ways of relating and doing things by it’s very nature. Every time I go to the doctor’s office and fill out papers, which is a few times a year – I get a reminder that, guess what…I’m adopted! I have to write it on medical papers several times a year. That adoption affects my life in profound ways even to this very minute.

Please, stop trying to change my history just to make life more comfortable for you.   

“Deanna, why do you have to talk about the pain? When you wrote your personal story, was it necessary to share all the nitty gritty of how the losses affected you through the years? Was all the talk about perpetual trauma and sharing exactly what happened in all it’s rawness really necessary?”

Those who walk in truth and not other people’s air-brushed versions they so crave to make it look like their choices were of no consequence, will always get challenged.

No, I can’t pretty it up.

I can move forward. In fact, I have made much progress!
But that wasn’t possible until I first faced it, in all it’s ugliness.
Moving forward isn't possible until you first deal with reality.

A white-washed story told through rose colored glasses is not essential in creating a beautiful ending.  Guess what… I’m in charge of the ending. Finally, I’m in control of something in this story. Because I’m an adult now and my thankfully, I get to make my own choices and don’t have to just ride the waves of the choices others dished out. It’s my turn now. My choices combined with God’s supernatural power in my life work together to create an amazing ending to a woefully painful beginning.

But pretty-up what I lived through, so others who made choices that affected me don’t feel quite so bad?

No, not gonna do that.

That would be like putting a positive spin on the Holocaust. 
And not only would that be impossible but utterly inappropriate.

Thankfully we adoptees do not have to check our brains at the door, or our feelings. 

We are the grown ups now. 
Welcome to our world.

Shaming Adoptee Pain is Never Effective

“Here’s a woman with rheumatoid arthritis, and she looks happy to me!”

Would you purposely post a photo and story of a woman who has rheumatoid arthritis so friends who have RA could see it, and say something like this? Would you attempt to “shame” your struggling friends for not keeping smiles on their faces 24/7? Would you question the character of your friends for admitting they have difficult days?

No.  If you answered yes, I know a lot of good therapists I can refer you to. Nobody with all their marbles is going to exhibit this appalling behavior, but it happens to adoptees all the time.

It happened to me yesterday. Someone who openly questions the trauma aspect of adoption posted what I would consider a “slam” on Facebook.  A photo of a young adoptee along with their story was posted and in response the person wrote, “Here’s an adoptee, and he looks happy to me!”

Dear sweet Lord baby Jesus, where do I even begin? I struggle that people like this hold critical jobs in our society.

Happy Traumaversary! Complex Trauma Recovery: One Year Later

One year ago today, Thursday, February 28, 2013 – I experienced one of the traumas that contributed to the complex trauma, and significant loss  I experienced throughout my life, and entered therapy for.

Last year on this day, I was overcome with such grief, it was all I could do to get out of bed in the mornings and brush my teeth. I've got a rhyming anointing... 

What a difference a year makes!

 “Happy” traumaversary? 

Am I crazy? 

According to my therapist, no. 

Not at all. 

Not the least little bit. 
 

In fact, she says–I'm doing amaaaaaaazing. 

Eight months after beginning therapy, our time together came to a close because I was doing too well to come back anymore.

So...why do I say, “Happy traumaversary”? Because after all I’ve been through, there's so much to be happy about! 

I’m not just limping along or barely getting by.

 I’m soaring!

Even though no one else in the situation changed, unless you count dying I’ve changed.

Trauma Survivors and Thrivers (Life After the Veil Has Lifted)

My friend Raina* just encountered a trauma in her life…for the very first time.  

(To preserve her privacy, I am not sharing any of the details whatsoever, including what type of trauma. I share only non-identifying parts of our conversation to illustrate the point of this post.)

 

As we talked over coffee , with tears streaming down her face, Raina  shared that up until this point in her life she has led a relatively uneventful life.  Even a sheltered life...

Luckily, she has encountered nothing tragic, to speak of. There were little bumps in the road here and there. At times she'd deal with work or parenting stresses like we all face. But never in her life has she experienced ANYTHING like what she’s going through now.  At mid-life she suddenly faces a traumatic event that has shaken her world to it's absolute core. 

Raina is a very strong woman of faith, but I can tell she is forever changed by what she has just experienced.

Eyes filled with tears, Raina took a few shallow breaths and voice breaking, looked at me and said, “This is how you felt when you went through the situation with your natural mom…isn’t it?” 

Ask A Therapist: How is Trauma Part of Adoption? An Interview With Corie Skolnick

Today it's my delight to introduce Corie Skolnick,   author of the book, Orfan. Many readers here will already know Corie and be familiar with her work as a licensed therapist, professor and author. In addition to Orfan, Corie was most recently a contributor to Adoption Reunion in the Social Media Age.  

For those who aren't acquainted with the awesomeness that is Corie, it's a my pleasure to introduce you. 

There are a zillion things we could pick Corie's brain about but today, I'd like to focus on trauma as it relates to adoption. Let's get started... 

Deanna: Corie, one of the things I find challenging as an adoptee is the surprised reaction of non-adoptees when they hear the word, “trauma” associated with adoption. A number of those people read my blog, if for no other reason than shock and awe that this is even a discussion. Can you please explain for the many people out there who have no idea why adoption and trauma are in the same sentence, why that is???

Corie: You and I accept the basic fundamental belief that the separation of an infant from its mother (or child from its parents) is a traumatic event. It is one that has long lasting negative consequences for all aspects of the child’s development.  But your question acknowledges the fact that not everyone accepts that assertion.

For a very long time this was an assertion largely dependent on theory over absolute provable scientific fact, so our understanding of how experienced traumatic events impact normal human development was quite limited to idiosyncratic observation and self report. Today this assertion rests on decades of reliable and measurable research data that declares unequivocally, a child’s development is impacted by the “trauma” that is separation. People who reject this now scientifically provable fact are like the legions who, for centuries, denied that the earth was round. 

When Mothers Defend Their Right to Stay Unhealed

Karen Caffrey, LPC, JD, wrote an amazing post this past week at Adoption VoicesMagazine that had me dancing around the room.

At the same time, the post had some mother's panties in a bunch.

 

Photo Credit: Dogfaceboy, Flickr

If you haven’t read, “Birthmothers and the Responsibility to Heal,” you might want to exit out of here right now and go read it. 

And comment on it.

It’s that important.

Ready, set, go!

Leave this blog, comment, go potty, get a cup of coffee, and come back and cozy up with me. I don't bite. At least not on Wednesdays.

Okay, now that you’re back…

I don't even know where to start in sharing what I adore about Karen's post. I like this post so much, I ate it for breakfast, shredded on top of my oatmeal this morning. Super good, people. 

Things People Say to Adopted People

Being a pastor, I have a front row seat into people’s lives both good and bad. I rejoice with them in good times and weep with them in times of sorrow.

Photo Credit: ST33VO, Flickr

I’ve comforted a lot of people as they have received news of everything from a death in the family to a diagnosis of cancer. 

With all of these tragedies, I can safely tell you that I have never said things like:

Why I'm Still Here

Acts chapter 2 of the Bible says that in the last days, the young will have visions and the old  will dream dreams. I do both…what does that make me? Mixed up, Deanna. Mixed up. 

No seriously…      

Photo Credit: Patty Koplitz, Flickr

I still consider myself young so having visions makes perfect sense to me, though my kids think I’m ancient and probably believe it's time for me to cross over to dreams.

This will be a totally foreign concept to some of you who read here, maybe half if not more of you. I am cognizant of the fact that many who read here don’t believe in God.  You are going to wonder if next I will tell you I saw Elvis at a Denny's in Knoxville.   It's a total honor to me that you read here, and that we can have such respectful dialogue.

Adopted and Stronger. Here's Why.

Challenge has never been a stranger to me. 

Throughout the journey of life, I've encountered so many obstacles, all of which I won't list here if for no other reason than it would go against every rule of successful blogging.  

I will share just a few. 

My husband and I were the pastors of an abusive church at one time. (This is more common for pastors to experience than you may think.) 

Photo Credit: JeffPearce, Flickr

Years ago, Larry and I lost our jobs, home, income, social network and more -  all at once. We experienced the loss of everything except each other and our kids, and a few other material possessions. We didn't have money to rent storage. The few things we still owned were stored in an empty Sunday School room of a church that had compassion on us.  

The experience of pastoring the abusive church and the loss that resulted was a wake up call that showed us who our real friends were. Some stood by us and some didn't. I was able to quickly cut our Christmas card list by two-thirds. (That was back when I was still sending Christmas cards. Now I just do a Facebook update that tells everybody Merry Christmas in about two seconds minus the need to spend fifty bucks on stamps.) 

I’ve faced absolutely off-the-wall happenings nobody would believe unless I had witnesses to testify to it.

Stuff like the first week of our pastorate in Tampa starting off with a murder.

Adoptees: Why It's Helpful to Cry Alone

The title of this post may seem unhealthy or even dangerous. 

Cry alone?

Yes. I'm about to share something with you that I've found extremely helpful.

Now, for a disclaimer: Prolonged isolation is not healthy. Disconnection with others can be dangerous– not to mention, it’s completely different from the way God has wired us. 

Photo Credit: zanten.net., Flickr

When I speak of the need to cry alone, I’m referring to something temporary.

It’s important to have people in our lives who accept the real us, who can handle our joys and our tears. I’m so grateful to have that in my life.

At the same time, I’ve found there’s a certain type of cry that is helpful to have alone.

It's a cry so deep, by it's nature tends to overwhelm family or friends who experience it.

Human Beings Want Their Natural Mother

Two of my friends have both lost their mothers.

One friend was very close to her mother, and is grieving horribly. Everyone understands this.

Photo Credit: dimnikolov, Flickr

The other friend was not close to her mother. She is also grieving terribly and perhaps some do not understand why she is reacting the way she is. Why is she taking her mother’s passing so hard when the two were not close and in fact were at odds most times?

In going through the recent passing of my natural mother as well as observing other friends who go through the same, I have noticed the impact is great no matter the relationship. If one was close to their mother, they mourn the loss of spending time together – the comfort of their mom’s presence. If someone was not close to their mother, they mourn the loss of what they hoped for, but did not receive.  Either way, when your natural mother dies, it's a huge blow.

This is What Adoptee Grief Looks Like. Warning: Gross Picture

 "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

Ernest Hemingway

Bleeding is my blogging style.

I took this photo in Ernest Hemingway's writing studio, last year in Key West.

My adoptee and first mom blogger friends are amazing. Some of them, like Susan Perry, write about adoptee rights and they blow people away with their knowledge of statistics and laws. 

Some, like Amanda Woolston, testify brilliantly before congress, and then write about it.

Others like Laura Dennis, write from a mental health perspective and can deliver compelling posts featuring case studies, therapist interviews and the like.

 

Me? I emotionally bleed. 

All over the laptop. 

And I invite you to watch me bleed. My writings are a journey of wanting you to be able to taste the coffee I'm drinking and walk down the hallway  with me where I'm rounding the corner, and feel the tear as it runs down my cheek and into my ear as I lay in bed at night. 

Most of all, I want people to know they aren't alone. 
And, they can make it.


Recently I told an adoptee friend, “It appears God lets me bleed to the edge of death and back so I can show other people how to do it and survive.” 

So today, I’m quite literally and not just figuratively bleeding. No, it's not that time of the month.

An Adoptee Living Through Not-Okay-Ness

"I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice no matter who it's for or against."  ~ Malcomn X

“Who is God?”

The question was on a church sign I saw yesterday, announcing a new sermon series, in the town where I’m staying right now. 

I’ve been on a leave of absence to get my bearings, following my first mother’s passing, and will be for a while. 

Photo Credit: HaarFager, Flickr

I had been crying as I drove along yesterday, the last two days being very hard ones.  I had nightmares both nights and woke up crying both days. 

When I saw the sign, it infused me with a shot of hope. Because I know who God is. And the question on the sign served as a reminder to me to think about that.

Since my first mom passed, I knew I wasn't in the right frame of mind right now to lead anybody but me. Leading myself takes every ounce of energy that I have at the moment. So I'm on a self imposed time out, for the sake of myself and others.

I have to motivate myself to get out of bed,  brush my teeth, and stuff like that. 

Adoption Words Used in Church & Other Places (The Night I Ate the Whole Bag of Kisses)

Imagine my surprise when arriving at a pastors' wives retreat years ago to discover that the theme for the weekend was, “Relinquish.”

Photo Credit: Lisa Marie R, Flickr

The weekend had nothing to do with relinquishing babies. The retreat was about relinquishing hurt, pain, burdens, worries, etc. If I wasn’t adopted I would have thought this was a pretty cool theme. But I am adopted, and I’ll admit it got excruciating to sit there for three days hearing literally dozens, maybe even a hundred times that we needed to relinquish…relinquish...relinquish. "God is calling for total relinquishment, ladies!" we heard over and over during the weekend. I got so tired of hearing it, I left one of the sessions early, laid across my bed in the hotel and ate a bag of Hershey kisses they gave us when we checked in.

The Stubborn and the Strong

The truth about life adopted is that it’s not all you live. Although I will always be adopted and it forever impacts my past, present and future there are many other things going on at the same time.

Photo Credit: UplandAccess, Flickr

I am blessed with a 26-year marriage, and three children. Like most if not all people, there are always issues weighing on my mind concerning my family. As a mother, I become concerned about things with my kids. Most any given week I am doing what some Pentecostals call “carpet time” on their behalf. (This consists of laying on the carpet crying out in prayer, asking begging God to do something). I am trying to keep a marriage strong. We pastor a church. Yes, it’s a wonderful thing but takes a tremendous amount of energy and fortitude. Not complaining, just stating fact.

One day I was sharing with a friend everything going on in my life aside from adoption and she said, “Oh my gosh, you have all this going on, AND you’re adopted?” I replied that I don't have any other choice.  And if you’re an adoptee, you don’t either. You have a whole life outside of adoption issues, to navigate. Doing it well is definitely intentional.