Survival

I really hadn't planned on sharing what I'm about to, but after pondering it for awhile, I really think I should. Not only for those coming behind us to adopt, but also for our friends and family at home. Vera is sweet and precious and a true treasure and we love her unbelievably already. It's only been a week, but it seems as though she's been a part of our lives forever. But the truth is, she's been an orphan since birth. For six years. She lived in a hospital for her first 3 months while she gained weight and then she went to her baby home where she's lived ever since. She's never had a mommy and a daddy. She's only had many, many caregivers. They come and go. She's never had one constant caregiver. Hearing all the babies cry each day has had me wondering how much Vera was held as a baby. The caregivers here are really great, but we will hear the same baby cry and cry and cry...for long periods of time. Why doesn't someone come? I am wondering...how much cuddling did Vera receive? How much was she held? Has she ever heard the words, "I love you and will never leave you?" Probably not. Her caregivers are not parents. Vera has been kept on a very tight leash all her life. She's never had freedom or choices.

Until now.

Our afternoon visit with Vera on Saturday ended terribly. Everything went well until the last 20 minutes. Then it was like someone flipped a switch inside of Vera. We saw a side of her that we hadn't seen yet. It was hard and awful and not something I was going to relive here. But I think you should all know about it. Because chances are you're going to witness something similar at one point or another.

It all started when Jon found a cool rock and showed it to Vera. She took it...and immediately put it in her mouth. Jon said, "No, Vera, no," and was trying to get her to spit it out. Which made Vera laugh, which made me panic. I was so afraid she was going to suck that rock back into her throat and choke. She started chewing on it. Jon could her her teeth grinding on it. No matter what we did, Vera laughed and kept her mouth tightly shut. Finally, one of the women from the ministry group came over and was able to tell Vera to spit it out. She did.

We were at the sandbox at this time and there were several other children there. One of them threw some sand at the other kids and was promptly reprimanded. Vera decided to try her hand at throwing sand and we stopped her hands and said 'Vera, nyet.' She laughed, broke free, and did it again. Repeat. Finally she just put her hands in the sand and we thought she was done. Until she threw sand again...right at me. I stood up and was getting the sand out of my shirt while Jon was handling Vera. We finally thought it had passed and Vera went back to the sandbox. She bent over, put her whole head into the sand and started burrying her head. We pulled her out and she was just covered in sand. We were trying to clean her up and she totally lost it. Screaming. Crying. Saying things we couldn't understand. We had to physically restrain her because she kept trying to get back to the sandbox. We tried to pull her away and she fought us tooth and nail. We would let her go and she would fall down. And go right back to what we were telling her 'no' about. Repeat.

I guess she finally realized we were serious that she was done in the sandbox and she started walking away. She was calm and I thought the tantrum was over. She walked over to a stump and bent down. I saw her hand reaching for something and my heart about stopped when I saw her newest 'treasure.' It was a hypodermic needle! I immediately reached down and stopped her from picking it up. She screamed and fought me, but she was not going to pick that thing up. I kept telling her 'no' and she screamed louder. Jon heard what was happening and came over to see what the problem was. I showed him the needle and he picked it up. The actual needle part wasn't attached, but the whole thing scared me to death. Jon took the needle, walked away and threw it over a fence (where it's an obvious trash area). If he had not gotten rid of it immediately, Vera would have fought and cried for it. Well, Vera, the smart little thing, had seen what Jon had done. She walked quickly to where he had thrown it and just stood there looking all over to find a way through the fence. She wanted that thing badly.

By this time our visit was almost over. We told Vera it was time to go her to group. She shook her head and said 'nyet' but we led her over to get her things. The bag of candy that the ministry team brought was right there and Vera grabbed a handful. We told her 'no' (she had already had 3 pieces...and it wasn't for her) and she flipped out again. One of the ministry people came over and told Vera she could take some. We were frustrated that we had been undermined, but it was not intentional. We said no, the lady said yes. So Jon used motions and told Vera that she could carry it upstairs but then he would take the candy and bring it back tomorrow. We've had this conversation before and thought Vera understood. Some of you may be wondering if she was taking the candy to give to her group. No...she only had 5 pieces. It was all for her. When we had first headed outside, the door we normally go in and out of was locked and there was a sign on it. We motioned to Vera that we had to use another door. She understood and all was well. On our way back in, though, yikes! Jon and I tried to lead her to the door we had come out of, but she wasn't having it. She went to the normal door and we let her so she could see it was locked. Well, she panicked. Cried. Screamed. She wouldn't go to the other door with us. Finally, a caregiver heard Vera carrying on and came out. She wiped Vera's face and told her we had to use the other door. Vera pulled herself together and happily came with us. We made it up to her room 15 minutes late. Vera was completely filthy from the sand and falling in the dirt repeatedly as she tried to break free from us. Jon opened her purse to show her that he was taking her candy. She went bonkers again and screamed and cried. A caregiver came out and assessed the situation. Jon told her he'd bring it back tomorrow. The caregiver motioned for Jon to give Vera one more piece. He did. Vera promptly ate it. Then the caregiver motioned for Jon to leave one in Vera's locker. He did. And all was well. Vera gave us hugs and kisses and said, 'paka.' We were unintentionally undermined again. I think the score is currently Vera-112, Jon and Amy-0.

There was another ugly incident that I could share that involved Ryland and us being unintentionally undermined again, but I think you get the picture. Aren't you exhausted after reading all this? As we were leaving I wanted to sit down and cry. I wasn't thinking, 'I can't do this' or 'what have we done?'. I was thinking, 'where in the world did all of THAT come from?! Who WAS that little girl? That was NOT Vera!'

We were going to try to get together with Missy and Kevin for dinner that night, but it ended up not working out. I was really needing some woman time after that visit. Jon is great and we've had good conversations, but it's different woman to woman. You know what I mean? I knew Missy had also had an interesting goodbye with her son that day and I needed to laugh about it with someone who understood. Well, dinner didn't work out, so I got out my two favorite adoption books. The Connected Child and Parenting Your Internationally Adopted Child. I read many adoption books during the process to adopt Leanna. These two are hands down my favorite and, in my opinion, the most helpful. It's one thing to read books when you're in the process. It's another thing to witness the behavior and then read the books. Wow. I needed these reminders. In reading the first two chapters of Parenting Your Internationally Adopted Child, here's what I think was going on with Vera. If you have any other ideas, please share. We really want insight from those of you who have been there, done that, which is another reason I chose to actually share this.

Remember the email I got from Oksana that said that Vera told us in Russian that she loves us? We didn't know what she had said.

We did not respond.

We did not tell her we love her too.

Can you imagine how vulnerable she must have felt? I don't know if Vera even understands what it means to love and be loved, but saying those words is significant no matter what. And we didn't reciprocate. It was moments after this that Vera fell apart.

She's testing us. She's figuring out if the rules with Mama and Papa are the same as the rules with the caregivers. I also think she went into survival mode. She was stressed, shut down quickly and started behaving badly. That way we had to deal with her behavior and not her inner needs. She masked her hurting heart. It could also be that she was upset, but knew we wouldn't understand her if she tried to tell us. Or maybe she couldn't even articulate her feelings. So having no other way to communicate that something was wrong, she went berserk. Because Vera was abandoned and has had so many different care givers over the years, her brain likely operates much differently than other kids her age. She doesn't have the ability to remain calm during what we would call a minimally stressful situation. The chemicals and hormones in her brain are very likely out of whack because of her history. Vera is 6 chronologically, but she is not 6 emotionally or behaviorally. She lacks the self control of a 6 year old.

All of this to say, we cannot parent Vera the same way we did Jacob, Caleb and Abbi. Vera's misbehavior comes from a completely different place. Her goal is not to be defiant, though it can look that way. Her goal is to have her needs met. Her heart needs. When (notice I say 'when') you see a Vera explosion, you will not see us spank her or put her in time out. You will not see us do what comes naturally to us as parents. Instead you will see us do things that create connection and attachment. She will have to learn and re-learn many things that most 6 year olds already know. It may seem like we let her get away with things. We just have to remember that Vera has 6 years of bad baggage to unpack and unload. It will take lots and lots and lots of time. It will take lots and lots and lots of prayer. It will take lots and lots and lots of patience. It will take lots and lots and lots of unconditional love. It will take lots and lots and lots of God's intervention.

We got to have lunch with Missy and Kevin yesterday at a pizza place near their apartment. This was the first time to actually meet them, but Missy and I shared a nice, big hug instead of a handshake. I don't know about them, but to me it seemed like we were old friends that we had known for years. I'm already looking forward to our next visit with them.

We weren't going to visit Vera yesterday. We decided we would take a day of rest, read, pray, regroup and be back on Monday. But in reading the books, Jon and I both decided we needed to see Vera. We didn't want her to think that her behavior the day before changed anything. We love her and we're in this for the long haul. A little misbehavior doesn't scare us! So after lunch with Missy and Kevin, we headed to the orphange. Admittedly, I was a bit apprehensive about another visit. It's very hard for me not knowing what to expect from one visit to the next. But I am so thankful we went. The visit went very, very well. And...Vera sat in my lap...for the first time. Physical touch has been interesting with her. We've noticed that in the mornings, she pushes our hands away if we try to rub her back or put our arm around her. She pushes me away more than she does Jon. In the afternoons she doesn't seem to mind touch as much. Yesterday she found the bubbles in my backpack and I opened them up. She was bent down in front of me and I thought I would just try pulling her into my lap to see what would happen. I was expecting her to push me away and say, "Nyet." Instead...this happened. She smiled. She relaxed. She stretched out her legs a little more and got comfortable. It was wonderful!

It ended up being a very lovely visit.

Glory to God!