Truth Tellers: The Spaz stage

Part 2 to Truth Tellers

Again, where you see purple is where I've quoted the words of Jen Hatmaker because of the commonality of the adoption process and her beautiful way in which she put it in words.

Spaz (4-6 weeks – 3-4 months)
• The straw that broke the camel's back can be anything and everything at any given moment.
His aggravation begins with something little – who had the water gun first, who got to take shower first, who got out of what side of the car, not liking what his food looks like though over 3 weeks he's discovered that judging a book by it's cover isn't a true test of goodness. There have been a few enraged and out of control fits – with screaming, kicking, hitting, wailing, tantrums that last longer than we have the energy for. There were moments I wasn't sure I could carry this beefy 7-year-old up the stairs to the "Think About It" spot as he deadens his weight and holds onto the spindles so that my arms get weaker and I can't pry his hands from the rails to move up and forward. He has lost his door several times because he hasn't learned yet that it's not allowed for slamming or banging on it out of anger. He used to flee and hide under his bed and fall asleep there so we would have to pick him up and place him on his bed at night, but he is beginning to use his words a little more to express his feelings. He hasn't hid under his bed in some seven weeks now so this must be progress we believe. My husband has had to lug him over the shoulder in an effort to remove him from an unsafe situation. In every such instance which he refused to move on his own he claims he's tired of this earth and tired of this life, or says he doesn't care about being unsafe to himself nor cares that others care. [While my husband strong arms him to safety, he is] drenched in sweat, holding him tight, and whispering love into his ears as he continues to fight and then [our foster son] passes out from exhaustion. 
• Shares desire for his mom to move into his room in our house though we explain that adults prefer to have their own two feet under them and not be dependent on others. And due to this reality, he says he'd rather go to a family member for adoption because he's sure he'll be back in his mom's arms quicker.
• Holds tight to possibility, though low, that he can live with his mom again while experiencing real joy and peace within our family and desiring to be with us too.
• He repeatedly hates the home-cooked food we make him, when something's not fair, reacts from a triggered memory from music, smell, texture of my hair as he compares it to his mom's while showing me how she taught him to braid and he braids mine, to putting the last picture he has of her on a shelf along with all of our other family photos, to opening up and sharing past "scary and gross" (his words) trauma and at the most awkward times and places (specifically, the dinner table). It's not helpful that my husband hasn't made his way home from work when some of these conversations pop up.
• He still refers to himself as dumb, ugly, and stupid though we pour in confidence, love, reassurance of his beauty, wildness, and uniqueness that God created in him. Even so, just yesterday when he and our bio son were fighting over the fire truck on the playground, our bio son got hurt and he told our foster son he is mean. Though completely inappropriate to be said, that word mean translated to even more for our foster son and it was a lesson to us all how deep his hurt remains. He was adamant that he was also told he was dumb, ugly, and stupid. One negative name-calling, turned to four in his mind and he accepts it as true, even after apologies and forgiveness between our boys. Those words have been nearly ingrained in his innermost being.

Your sweet one is grieving. This is not about us – you've learned to not take it personal. This is sorrow, loss, fear, and trauma. It is devastating, disheartening, and confusing. You and your spouse are exhausted, unhinged, question yourselves and how you handle it. Is this making a difference in his life? What about our lives – our bio son's life? Will he grow up and look back at this season and say his character and compassion was built here or is this where his destruction begins?

Your bio son tells you as you tuck him in at night that this is a lot harder than he thought it would be. You tell him you understand and relate to him. You remind him of God's unconditional love for all of us, and of the ways we act up against God's leading and teaching, and still the Lord chooses to love us despite ourselves. People ask you how it's going. You quickly say it's 90% wonderful and 10% ugly, but you know those numbers are off, but you're hopeful so you leave it with that. You want to be real with others about your journey, but you don't want to scare them off to not follow if the Lord is piercing their heart to open their home to a child who needs them. Because the scary or ugly won't last forever, or will it? You discover as time goes on your reply becomes more transparent when you breathe the words, "It's hard, SO hard." You find more training, more books on specific issues, join multiple blog and online discussion groups so that you can get wisdom from others' trial and errors, or simply to know you're not alone. You wonder if you should add to your schedule by joining an adult sports team because exercise and a break for you and your spouse would be good, but then you feel guilty for even thinking such things because your children need your time. Your foster son says hateful and disrespecting things in anger as he fights for control and self-preservation like he's used to, but then when he breaks out of his tantrum he is remorseful most of the time, loving, and reaffirming of his new-found love of being a part of the family. And sometimes you have a pleasant day, almost superficial kind of day – where your foster son attempts to wait on your every need, offers to help in ways he's never attempted before to lift a finger. You and your spouse see a different side of him so you overly praise him for his kindness and thoughtfulness, reminding him that he is a great kid, he is a child of God, he has great purpose, he is smart, he is handsome, he is fun, and he is loved, no matter if he's choosing a good day or a bad one.

At the tail end of three and a half months we are seeing a light, yet sometimes that light still flickers.
The glimpses of affirmation of his love for us has helped us through the tougher moments for sure. But now we can look back and recognize that he has time-limits on his tantrums/shut-down moments – they don't last forever. We have learned ways to help him break out of anger mode before it escalates. We know how to use humor, love, discipline, and boundaries to teach him about obeying authority over you because they know what's best and see the bigger picture. We are feeling more confident in ourselves and less personally attacked by his angry words. He is stabilizing, slowly but surely. But there are days or weeks we feel we have regressed and it's back to square one.

Just last week three surprises in conversations involving our foster son happened and it's just now sinking in how very BIG these are:
• May 18: He overheard a convo I was having with a friend. When asked when he had moved into our home I replied in May. He popped up and said, "18th. May 18th." We hadn't realized how good his memory is with numbers, or at least with important numbers. That's special that the specific date means something to him.
•"Mom": Last week I was picking him up from after care. While I helped him get down from his high swings on the playground he asked me if I heard him when I was pulling into the parking lot. I told him I hadn't heard him and asked what he needed. He needed to tell me that when he saw me pull up he told his new friend there that "my mom is here to pick me up!" I thanked him for making me feel so special, reminding him that though I'm not the only mom in his life it's OK to love us both.
• "Dad": This week as he was eating breakfast before school Steve was making jokes as he always does. The boys love this about him. Our foster son told us he has a friend at school who makes lots of jokes as he told us, "I told my friend my dad tells lot of jokes too." A special moment and Steve said, "Aw, thanks bud. I love you too."
• But then yesterday, he challenged our authority when he wasn't getting his way, 12 times. And at the end of the day when we were discussing with him whether he had earned a sticker on his behavior chart, he had thought it had been a pretty good day.

Breathe – and Lord thank you for the reminders how this journey is an overwhelming picture of your love for us. Because YOU live, we can face tomorrow, because YOU live, all fear is gone. Because I know, YOU hold the future, and life is worth the living just because YOU live. (in case you didn't grow up in a good ol' Southern Baptist church with traditional music those words from a hymn from the 1970's immediately came to my heart when writing this post. Though it's been years since I've held a hymnal or been in a traditional worship service, the words ring in my heart still at times when the Lord knows I need it and they are comforting for me, so I wanted to share it with you.)