Perhaps I felt it coming.
Maybe that is the explanation for the feelings I have had the past week or two.
I didn't realize a full on tornado was coming, and this morning it touched ground.
It all started with Dominick last night, who was quite frustrated and angry when he shared that yesterday evening Olesya had told him "I don't want think." Yea, we sorta noticed that already. We had company and I didn't have time, or even the mental space, to work with that at the moment, so I let it pass and planned to deal with that one later.
This morning we were going to get busy with school, and while I showered, picked up my room and got a little laundry going the kids were to get dressed, get breakfast, and be ready with their notebooks. I come to the table and Olesya is sitting there with a cup of tea, not yet dressed, looking for all the world as if there was no need at all for her to do anything. Using my best Mom Voice I said "What are you doing? Why are you not dressed?" and she looked up at me and said "I was getting breakfast." I asked "Where's your breakfast?" and she said "I don't have it yet, I couldn't figure it out."
What??
Oh yea, I went Mom on her all right..."You mean it took you 45 minutes to get a cup of tea? Do I have 'stupid' written on my forehead? What in the world did you do the last 45 minutes?? Do you expect me to believe that took you 45 minutes??" She hung her head and said "I played with the dog."
OK...got it...so I sent her off without breakfast to get dressed. She returned to the table and while we were alone for a few moments I told her I wanted to talk to her. I began a conversation about her comment to her dad about not wanting to think. I asked her what she wanted for her future, and I asked her why we could never have a real conversation with her. She didn't respond, and I could tell I was getting nowhere with her, I wasn't reaching her at all.
I tried a different direction, and I asked her why she thought she was so stupid. She hung her head and I could see the tears well up...ahhh...now we were getting somewhere. I asked her again, and she said "I don't know." I then asked her "Who ever made you think you were dumb? Who was it that told you that you couldn't learn? Who made you give up on your very good brain??" Then she really started to cry. I asked it differently, and I made her look into my eyes across the table. "Olesya...who ever told you that you were smart? When was the first time you remember someone complimenting you and telling you that you were good at something?"
That did it. She totally lost it and started sobbing. I pressed her to remember, and she looked up at me and said "1st grade I think, one time the teacher said something to me about doing something good in school, and one time in 3rd grade my teacher told me I was a good speller."
I sat there in dumbfounded silence for a moment, taking that in. Our daughter was 8 years old before a single person told her she was good at anything. Here she was at 12, thinking she was too stupid to learn much, thinking she wasn't really good at anything.
Is it any wonder she doesn't want to think? No one ever told her she was good at it! Or anything else, for that matter.
The other kids had gathered round the table by this point, and they all were uncertain what to do. I asked them all to sit down, and then I told them what Olesya said. I asked them each to tell her what they saw in her, what they saw her acting like. Every single one of them said in one form or another that they saw her zoning out a lot, that she said nonsensical things just to get attention, and Kenny added that she pulled away from conversations that were important when we were all together in our "family times", and it made him sad and he felt like she didn't care when she did that.
I told Olesya that a year and a half later, I didn't feel like I knew her all that much better than I did the day she came home, because she never shares her opinion about anything, she always defers to others, and she never shares her heart. She sat there quietly then, taking it all in. I then did an experiment to show what I meant. I asked every one of her siblings to share for 2 minutes about who they are, what they like, etc. and to then answer one quick question for me with their opinion. Matthew started and shared that he loves history and building things, that he was interested in strategy games and anything having to do with aircraft, that he enjoyed certain kinds of music and time with his family. I then asked him what he thought about America and he immediately launched into a couple of minutes of what he liked and disliked. Every one of the other kids did the same thing, rattling off things they enjoy and don't like, what they thought about things, etc. It was effortless.
Then it was Olesya's turn. The silence was deafening as she struggled to form an identity and put it into words. She cried within 30 seconds as she realized she had no clue what to say, that she had spent years "not thinking" and that it was so hard for her to reveal herself to us. I told her "Olesya, this is what we are talking about. You don't even allow yourself to have an opinion. You have taught yourself that nothing you say is important, and that leads you to not thinking because there is no point."
In tears myself, I turned to the other kids and said to the boys "Guys, this is what happens when no one cares about you. This is what happens when it takes until you are 8 years old to before a single person points out that you are good at anything." I asked Matthew "How many times did Dad and I tell you that you were good at things before you were 8 years old? How many times did we tell you that you were smart, handsome, intelligent, that we liked your ideas?". Matt didn't know how to respond but Olesya did, and she looked up with such pain in her eyes as she said "I know Mama, thousands..." and she dissolved into deep sobs.
Which lead to Angela starting to cry soulfully as well. Obviously, this hit a nerve for her too. I told Olesya "The only reason Angela isn't the same way is that she had sports and everyone told her she was good at that" but Angela then choked out "Yea, but no one told me I was smart. No one showed me I could do things, or ever told me I was pretty. I HATE basketball now! I don't want to only be good at sports, I want to be good at different things. Sports isn't for real life helping you, it is only a game."
I sit there, knowing the words I say will long be remembered, if not in actual word but intent. I begin to speak "You know girls, I can never give you back the years we missed. I can never, ever go back and spend your first several years telling you all the things you are good at, how beautiful we think you are inside and out, how amazing you are. I wish I could, but I can't, and I am sorry no one was there to do that for you. But you can decide to move forward Olesya, you can challenge yourself to use the wonderful brain God gave you and discover all the things that are possible for you. But you can't be lazy in thinking. You are one of the hardest working kids I have ever met, but when it comes to thinking you take the easy way out. You will never prove to yourself just how smart you are if you continue to do that, and it means your future will not be all it could be."
Then I added "I wish for all my kids I could go back in time, that I could be there from the moment you were born and hold you, hug you, and care for you. But none of us can do that, we can only work together as a family to support one another and encourage one another now. We don't have to live in what wasn't, we can live in what is."
And as I look across the table, Joshua has tears streaming down his cheeks and his chest is heaving. "I wish you were there too and that my birth mommy hadn't left me. I wish I had come from your tummy and not hers! She was an awful, bad mommy and I don't know why she didn't want me." He rushes over and into my arms, back to me...for facing me would be too intimate...and he adds "And I want to know my real birthday! I want to know what my real name would have been. Why can't I at least know that?" as his body is wracked with sobs at this point and he can not speak further.
At the sight of Joshua's pain, Kenny and the girls all start crying, and even Matthew has a hard time not crying as puts his arm around Angela, who now is really, really losing it...and I realize this is about so much more. She is almost at the stage she was a year or so ago, beginning to cry in a way that signals she is not really with us at the moment.
Kenny's face is screwed up as he too begins to cry out loud and he says "I know what it feels like to be Olesya. I wish I had her brain, mine NEVER works right and I just wish it would so bad sometimes. I would trade with her in a minute. Sometimes it makes me mad when she doesn't even try to think with her school stuff and I try so hard and never get it right. Sometimes I think my mom gave me up because she knew I would be stupid."
Angela rushes out of the room, into her bedroom where I hear her muffled howls. Josh is clinging to me, Kenny is a mess, Olesya has her head on the table and Matthew is sitting there not having a clue what has just happened, looking at me as if to say "Wow...what now??". I tell Josh I need to go check on Angela, and I find her on the floor of her room, huddled under her blanket which is completely covering her entire body as it shakes. The kids all follow me down the hall and sit around us as I gently rub Angela's back trying to comfort her. Josh is in my lap, his head on my arm as the tears are still coming. Olesya is saying over and over again "I'm sorry Mama, I made this happen, I'm sorry."
I look at her and tell her "Why are you apologizing? Did you abandon Josh when he was a baby? Did you tell your mom to use alcohol and kill someone? You need to stop exactly this, Olesya, you need to not feel responsible for making everone happy and ignoring yourself." Matthew chimed in at that point "Yea, Olesya, you do that all the time...try to make everyone happy by giving us stuff or doing what you think we want. What about you? When you do stuff like that, it doesn't mean anything because it isn't real...you don't really want to show you love someone, you just want to make people like you and you think doing that stuff will make them like you. Instead, it makes people take advantage of you even if they don't really want to...you make it too easy." Then he said "We want you to be happy too and to really love us, not pretend."
Kenny added "And we WANT to know what you think about things, we WANT you in our conversations, not acting like you are not interested or are afraid to tell us what you think. We're never going to think you are stupid."
Angela, in the meantime, is slowly calming a little and she reveals through cries that she doesn't know why, but she was thinking about her grandma the past 3 days and she can't get her out of her head and it scares her. She wound up again and said "I wish you had gotten me before all that happened!" and I quietly say "I wish I had gotten all of you before anything bad had happened."
And I am so damned helpless.
We all sit there, reflecting on so much that was heavy in the room, wishing we could help Angela and Olesya, Kenny and Joshua...each thinking of their own pain and how it mirrored their sibling's in one way or another. Matthew sat respectfully through it all and finally said "I am really lucky none of this stuff happened to me, but I wish it hadn't happened to you guys." I said "Yea, but you have lived through each and every one coming home and all their adjustments, and that hasn't been a piece of cake either." He smiled over Joshie's head at me and said "Yea Mom, but it was worth it."
Slowly, with more gentle conversation, the room became quieter, and huge sighs were heaved. Angela scooted over and with her head still under the blanket, rested her head on my knee, her hand held in mine. Olesya spoke "Mama, I know you are right. I don't know how to change, but I'll try. I do like when you tell me all the time how smart I am at things. I guess I just don't always believe it." and she almost started to cry again, but caught herself, and then I added "And Olesya, don't think I haven't noticed that you don't yet quite feel 100% connected to me. I feel your hugs, I know they are halfway. But it is hard to love someone else when you don't fully love yourself. The day I get a real hug from you will be the day I know you are almost there, that you will be loving yourself." She looked up at me with the most stunned look on her face, and she said "Mama...I love you...but I think I know what you mean. How did you know when I didn't? I do feel like I am not really hugging you all the way but I don't know why." I said "Someday, you will know. In the meantime, let's work really hard at being very real and honest with each other...I will never ever give up on you, and I am NOT going to let you get away with not thinking, so now I am going to be harder than ever on you, OK?" and she actually smiled and said "Yea, I know Mama, it's because you love me."
We all sat there on the girl's floor, together as feet touched feet, arms were flung over shoulders, everyone wanting a piece of Mom, who had far too few arms to place around too many children.
This remarkable group of children, whose pain runs so deep, and who so few would ever suspect suffer so deeply over their past. They appear so whole to the outsider, as if we somehow snapped our fingers with each one and declared them healed from their past.
It doesn't work that way. This is pain that will be carried with them forever, there are deficits that last a lifetime. We do our best to help them, we screw up often, we worry and fret and wonder every single day as their parents. Are we doing the right thing? Is this something to let pass or is the time right to work on it? How much do we press? How much do we let slide?
It is fall, and this is Joshua's time to regress, I have been feeling it for a couple of weeks as he has reverted to checking on me around the house, clinging a bit more to me, and now today's breakdown. We talked about how he may not know his birth name, but Matthew and I shared about how Dominick and I spent two nights trying out names, and what his names might have been. I told him that our birth dates are important only as symbols of the date we were born, and that he might even have really been born on his birthday as we know the police made an educated guess, and maybe they guessed right. I asked him if he would like to pick a different day to celebrate, and he said no that he actually liked his birthday. He just wished he had something that he knew for sure. I told him he could know for sure that God was with him, that we loved him enough to wait for him and go that far, and that God had put us all together. He seemed to think about those things for awhile.
Angela has suffered true trauma, and it will reappear many times during her childhood, I am certain. What she witnessed, what she endured, what she remembers...it haunts her. Therapy? Maybe, eventually, but I have a funny feeling it will get us nowhere more than we are now. We are making progress in helping her deal with things, she at least is comfortable enough to share it, and in time more and more comes out. And this is one young lady who will flat out have to feel someone is extremely intuitive and honest before she would ever trust them with her emotions.
Kenny, he has lasting issues that will forever challenge him. He is gaining confidence, healing has occurred but still has a long way to go. Frustration at his inability to have his brain function the way everyone else's does takes it's toll, and at times like today, grieving happens for all that is hard for him and easy for others.
Olesya, dear sweet, people pleasing Olesya. She is a reminder that sometimes, what is not said or done is more harmful than what is. The lack of early affirmation has forever altered who she becomes, and we have a very, very long road with her to help her view herself as worthy, to help her learn to tune in and turn on. I honestly don't know how to do that, but I'll keep trying.
Then there is Matthew, seemingly unscathed emotionally, yet who has witnessed so much as each child has come along, who has remained steady and calm, who has never tried to draw attention to himself in order to keep it from others. What do we not see there in him? What ways has all of this affected him which we are not even aware of?
Tonight, the aftermath is that Mom is feeling wrung out and very, very helpless while the kids are all purged for awhile. Where do I purge? Here, I guess. Where do I let go of the guilt of being unable to hold four hurting kids today...of not being able to spread myself that thin? Where do I turn to teach myself how to help our children work through all that haunts them?
I do what I can, I let God do what God does, and I recognize that some things may be out of my power to alter. I almost lost it at choir practice tonight, as we sang "Consecrated, Lord to Thee"...just the beginning lyrics were so true for me, so hard to live...
Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
*Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in endless praise.
Take my hands and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice and let me sing,
Always, only for my King.
Take my lips and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect and use
Every pow’r as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will and make it Thine,
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own,
It shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee.
If I can manage to live this out, if I can let myself be that in tune with God's will for my life, for our life as a family, then somehow I can trust we will all make it. On days like today, it is all I have to cling to, for it feels as if I can never, ever be what the kids truly need me to be., or even Dominick for that matter.
I am trying very, very hard not to let the feelings of failure that were already on the surface take over. Tonight, as we all sleep together with kids gathered on the bedroom floor around us needing connection and security, gentle breathing the only noise we hear, maybe I will somehow find peace with everything. Maybe it'll make sense, maybe I can sort it all out. If not, I trust that God will somehow use someone or something to help me.
I have to believe that, for THAT is my true salvation...not heaven, not promises of streets of gold...but salvation is making it through the things that feel impossible alone.