Traumaversary Day
Three years ago today Hubs and I legally became the parents of T. We weren't aware of this fact for another week, since it happened in a courtroom in Addis Ababa where the head of the orphanage signed the paperwork with our power of attorney. But it is the day his uncle -- "Gashe" -- stood before the judge, swore that both parents were deceased (the facts of the case are in doubt in our minds), and relinquished him forever from his birth family.
T hates this adoption day. We used to try to celebrate it, but he hates it. He knows that it's the day he lost his birth family forever. In adoption terms, this type of anniversary is a traumaversary. Traumaversaries are sad and sad is scary so it goes straight to angry, which means we all go into survival mode.
It's especially tough that it falls right around the holidays. Our kids' brains are in permanent survival mode and the hype around the holidays puts them into overdrive. Things are not as they usually are -- life not being normal = I might not survive. I might not survive is scary and scary goes straight to angry, which means we all go into survival mode. We don't have Happy Holidays. We have Get Through the Holidays. Pray for Return to Normalcy Holidays. Wish There Were No Freaking Holidays.
Add in the burned in memory of a traumaversary and you have the perfect storm.
So today I should be happy, but I'm struggling too. I suppose it's a reminder that this child doesn't really want to be part of this family. He's somewhat accepting of his fate, but it's not his choice.
This year I won't mention the day to him. He loves his US re-adoption day -- he got presents and family gathered and he was the center of attention and the judge let him ring the bell -- that's a happy memory for him. Which is just days before Thanksgiving and the start of the holiday season and the holiday/traumaversary dysregulation. But for that one day, he is happy to celebrate with us. Even though he won't look into my eyes when we sing "Oh Happy Adoption Day" together. Which is telling of his not being totally willing to have his ticket punched as part of this family. As my son.
Today....we'll just hope it passes without too much notice and move on into January.
T hates this adoption day. We used to try to celebrate it, but he hates it. He knows that it's the day he lost his birth family forever. In adoption terms, this type of anniversary is a traumaversary. Traumaversaries are sad and sad is scary so it goes straight to angry, which means we all go into survival mode.
It's especially tough that it falls right around the holidays. Our kids' brains are in permanent survival mode and the hype around the holidays puts them into overdrive. Things are not as they usually are -- life not being normal = I might not survive. I might not survive is scary and scary goes straight to angry, which means we all go into survival mode. We don't have Happy Holidays. We have Get Through the Holidays. Pray for Return to Normalcy Holidays. Wish There Were No Freaking Holidays.
Add in the burned in memory of a traumaversary and you have the perfect storm.
So today I should be happy, but I'm struggling too. I suppose it's a reminder that this child doesn't really want to be part of this family. He's somewhat accepting of his fate, but it's not his choice.
This year I won't mention the day to him. He loves his US re-adoption day -- he got presents and family gathered and he was the center of attention and the judge let him ring the bell -- that's a happy memory for him. Which is just days before Thanksgiving and the start of the holiday season and the holiday/traumaversary dysregulation. But for that one day, he is happy to celebrate with us. Even though he won't look into my eyes when we sing "Oh Happy Adoption Day" together. Which is telling of his not being totally willing to have his ticket punched as part of this family. As my son.
Today....we'll just hope it passes without too much notice and move on into January.
Oh this post, heartbreaking. For you. For T. And traumaversary sucks period. But to fall around the holidays, double suck, double period. January will be here soon enough, and I hope the new year ushers in some peace and settled joy into your family.
ReplyDeleteKaren, I have tears for you. I am soo sorry. I can't even imagine. It's been awhile since I read your blog and I don't think I ever got the entire story--I just knew you have had a rough time from the get-go. I will be praying for you...for peace and love and hope. I am reading a book about finding a way to be grateful every day for the little things and how it can help you get through your days. Big hugs.
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