I’ve been silent. Because I haven’t known what to say. Things have been difficult for our family.
We have had some absolutely breath-taking, beautiful, and
wonderful moments. And we have had some soul-sucking, difficult ones. It’s
often felt like we are yo-yo’s. Except for the up’s and the down’s, aren’t
always as predictable.
Language barriers are difficult. Cultural differences are
complex. Kameron’s English has been progressing rapidly. He understands so much
more than he speaks right now. Google translate is needed rarely. But there are
still lots of misunderstandings we all encounter.
We have all made mistakes along the road. God has been
faithful and used these as opportunities for growth. For all of us.
But growing, adjustments, and learning are hard. And it
hurts. A lot.
Let’s be honest, we have ZERO experience parenting a
teenager. That alone comes with challenges we wouldn’t know to expect or how to
prepare for until we were there. And here we are.
The boys’ relationships continue to grow and make progress. But
it has been hard won. Navigating this has been certainly challenging. Especially
with two incredibly head-strong oldest children. Our 7 year old has had to
learn how to be a “younger brother.” This wasn’t a role he was born into. Despite
his excitement to no longer be the oldest, it has required much from him, and
learning to be a younger brother has been especially tough for him.
Jesse and I had been pouring so much into our children. And
we got tired. Exhausted. We literally got to the point of having nothing more
to give.
I’ll be honest with you all—I wanted to give up. This road
has been challenging and hard. I was incredibly down-hearted, because I just couldn’t keep
going on like I was. Our family couldn’t move forward. We were stuck. I couldn’t
figure out how to put one foot in front of the other.
Then, God opened a door. I started learning more of
something I had heard of could occur, before we adopted. Post-adoption
depression/anxiety. Suddenly, everything I was feeling, had a name. And it is
not an uncommon phenomenon.
I’ve struggled to say anything. Because I was deeply ashamed
and embarrassed. But I realized, something I have often said to any patient
struggling with the same problem, “you shouldn’t be ashamed. It is not like you
CHOSE this!” But there I was—feeling ashamed of it. Keeping it secret. Hoping
it would go away. Trying to pray it away.
And yet, it stays. No amount of prayer, reading of the Bible
or “giving it to God” has definitively stopped the tightness in my chest, the palpitations, the
occasional days of melancholy, the constant return of “feeling on edge” (also
known as the pesky fight or flight reflex), or any of the other somatic
symptoms that come with the feelings of anxiety or depression.
We hit rock bottom. And more specifically, I hit rock
bottom. I couldn’t cope with the challenges we were facing and couldn't bear it for another moment. I had lost the joy and couldn’t seem to find even a faint glimmer of
hope in what we had felt so clearly, that God had called us to.
I didn’t know what to do. But I knew we needed help. Which
required something of me that I really don’t like doing. I had to ask for help.
Because I couldn’t do this on my own. We have since reached out. To our medical
providers, adoption agency, employers, family, church, and friends in our
community.
And dear loved ones, you have responded with such amazing
grace! We have had multiple friends, family, and co-workers-- call, text, and check in with us. Offer a
smile. Or a cookie. Or a coffee. People have helped us with freezer meals so we
could re-plan, refocus on meeting our own needs without the burden of daily
dinner planning. We have had people help with the boys and love on them, just so we could focus on getting us back on track. We have since come to grasp the greatness and vastness of our resources and used this time to do better and be better, purposefully. Thank you to all of you seems
hardly sufficient. We have been overwhelmed by the show of support for our
family.
And something as equally amazing happened. People have
responded with LOVE. Instead of what I had expected, judgement. My own thoughts
drifted to, “well didn’t you KNOW this could happen? You work in medicine for
goodness sakes!”
Burn out is real. We can get so busy caring for others that
we stop caring for ourselves. And it can happen so subtly at first. Sometimes,
you won’t even recognize it’s happening. It seems like such a simple notion that
“you cannot put on oxygen mask on others, till you have yours on first.” But
there I found myself—placing oxygen masks on everyone else—it’s no wonder I
couldn’t breathe.
While I am not “cured”, we are certainly rehabilitating and
making progress. We are seeing the joy
in the journey again. We are all doing better. There are still hard days. Hard
moments. But we are moving forward again.
We are no longer cocooning. Some have asked what they can do
to help us. I would first ask that you continue to pray for our family. Our
prayer is that our family wouldn’t simply “survive” but rather that we would “thrive”
again.
Also, continue to check in on us. (So many of you do this,
and I have appreciated it so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!) We are ready for people to start coming
over from time to time. We could certainly use the smiles, conversation, etc.
Please continue to speak kindness and words of truth to our boys. It really
does take a village.
Lastly, please be kind and supportive. It is incredibly
difficult for me to be this open about how I have been struggling. I feel God
pushing me to say something about it. Because I know I am not alone. This
phenomenon is actually, incredibly common. And if this post helps ONE person
know that they are not alone, then it has done its purpose.
Adoption is a beautiful and wonderful thing. It certainly has its own unique joys
and challenges. What I have learned is the true value and importance of self-care
and recognizing the symptoms of burn-out early on so you can get help and on a
healthier path.
I have included some websites if you wish to look more into
post-adoption depression and anxiety more:
Thank you for the love and kindness in advance. And to those who struggle too, know you are not alone.
