About a month ago the girls went with aunt, in her car, to spend time at her house for the family visit. I had suggested and arranged it.
It was a terrible mistake. Immediately afterward Jane began having nightmares, returned to stuttering, and in general showed heightened anxiety.
The aftermath with the adults has been equally hard. We finally got a therapist and after I described events to her she said that being in the car triggered memories of their unstable life where adults dropped them off at a new home every few days. I've had to explain this to grandma and aunt and ask for a return to shorter visits where we transport and remain present throughout. The curt and/or fearful emails I've gotten in response have not been easy to cope with.
They think I'm saying that being with them is bad for the kids and eventually, once the adoption is finalized, I'll stop the visits altogether. I absolutely do not believe that...but can you blame them? Of course they have to be scared this is the beginning of the end!
They don't know our last name or address. If I stop responding to the email account we set up they'd lose contact completely. They've known me only a few months; how can they possibly trust me yet?
So it's been a month and finally just this week Jane stopped having nightmares and was also able to go without the klieg light nightlight and return to the normal, dim nightlight. Three weeks to undo one visit.
But, I was hopeful that once we did the modified visit tomorrow she'd continue being okay. She and I have talked endlessly about her living here forever and that visits are just visits but she will always return to this house. I felt she was finally internalizing the message and optimistic that I could watch her closely during the visit and either reassure her or leave if she began to look anxious.
I wasn't even thinking about Kate.
Then, today Theo and I were discussing the visit tomorrow and suddenly Kate clued in to the topic and she became hysterical. She clung to me like a drowning kitten and wailed, "mommy, mommy, no!"
It took me ages to figure it out. I had no idea she even understood what we were talking about. I thought she'd pinched a finger or her tummy hurt and I was physically checking her all over to find the owie when...she suddenly said, "No (aunt's name) house!"
OMG
I mean, seriously, Oh My Dear God...what did this child experience from birth to 20 months that has her hysterical at the thought of returning to her aunt's house?
She has become increasingly anxious about my presence these past few weeks. She's hyper-vigilent about me leaving her sight. In the time it's taken me to type this she's suddenly cried and then come running to get a little cuddle from me. It's like she gets happy playing and wanders away, then looks up and is deeply frightened to have me out of sight. She has to come, wailing, and get some kind of reassurance from me before she can go play again.
So, hearing us talk about a visit, to the place she visited a full month ago is still such a strong memory that she is freaking out hearing us even talk about it.
She is attaching so hard and so fast. It's good that she's attaching! But it's painful, too. She's scared by the big feelings of love and it's counterbalance, loss. Of joy...but then fear.
It's like literally watching growing pains of the heart.
Today I took them to a children's science center. All three toddlers scattered to different play areas. I positioned myself where I could see them all and let them run to and fro. But every time Jane and Kate ran away from me to play it freaked me out because they'd insist on looking back at me while they ran off. They'd nearly run right into a pillar because they weren't looking where they were going.
And isn't that the most perfect illustration of what bonding is going to be like for these girls? Running away happily to play...but needing to look back...running obliviously right towards danger....so fearful that I'll disappear they'll put themselves in peril to prevent it.
Again and again and again. No matter how many times I showed them the pillar and reminded them to not look back but to look where they were going. They just could not resist the instinct to always look back, to keep on checking.
James never looked back when he ran off.
How long till the girls trust me, and the continuity of the relationships in this family, to the depth of a securely attached child like James? I don't know.
It was a terrible mistake. Immediately afterward Jane began having nightmares, returned to stuttering, and in general showed heightened anxiety.
The aftermath with the adults has been equally hard. We finally got a therapist and after I described events to her she said that being in the car triggered memories of their unstable life where adults dropped them off at a new home every few days. I've had to explain this to grandma and aunt and ask for a return to shorter visits where we transport and remain present throughout. The curt and/or fearful emails I've gotten in response have not been easy to cope with.
They think I'm saying that being with them is bad for the kids and eventually, once the adoption is finalized, I'll stop the visits altogether. I absolutely do not believe that...but can you blame them? Of course they have to be scared this is the beginning of the end!
They don't know our last name or address. If I stop responding to the email account we set up they'd lose contact completely. They've known me only a few months; how can they possibly trust me yet?
So it's been a month and finally just this week Jane stopped having nightmares and was also able to go without the klieg light nightlight and return to the normal, dim nightlight. Three weeks to undo one visit.
But, I was hopeful that once we did the modified visit tomorrow she'd continue being okay. She and I have talked endlessly about her living here forever and that visits are just visits but she will always return to this house. I felt she was finally internalizing the message and optimistic that I could watch her closely during the visit and either reassure her or leave if she began to look anxious.
I wasn't even thinking about Kate.
Then, today Theo and I were discussing the visit tomorrow and suddenly Kate clued in to the topic and she became hysterical. She clung to me like a drowning kitten and wailed, "mommy, mommy, no!"
It took me ages to figure it out. I had no idea she even understood what we were talking about. I thought she'd pinched a finger or her tummy hurt and I was physically checking her all over to find the owie when...she suddenly said, "No (aunt's name) house!"
OMG
I mean, seriously, Oh My Dear God...what did this child experience from birth to 20 months that has her hysterical at the thought of returning to her aunt's house?
She has become increasingly anxious about my presence these past few weeks. She's hyper-vigilent about me leaving her sight. In the time it's taken me to type this she's suddenly cried and then come running to get a little cuddle from me. It's like she gets happy playing and wanders away, then looks up and is deeply frightened to have me out of sight. She has to come, wailing, and get some kind of reassurance from me before she can go play again.
So, hearing us talk about a visit, to the place she visited a full month ago is still such a strong memory that she is freaking out hearing us even talk about it.
She is attaching so hard and so fast. It's good that she's attaching! But it's painful, too. She's scared by the big feelings of love and it's counterbalance, loss. Of joy...but then fear.
It's like literally watching growing pains of the heart.
Today I took them to a children's science center. All three toddlers scattered to different play areas. I positioned myself where I could see them all and let them run to and fro. But every time Jane and Kate ran away from me to play it freaked me out because they'd insist on looking back at me while they ran off. They'd nearly run right into a pillar because they weren't looking where they were going.
And isn't that the most perfect illustration of what bonding is going to be like for these girls? Running away happily to play...but needing to look back...running obliviously right towards danger....so fearful that I'll disappear they'll put themselves in peril to prevent it.
Again and again and again. No matter how many times I showed them the pillar and reminded them to not look back but to look where they were going. They just could not resist the instinct to always look back, to keep on checking.
James never looked back when he ran off.
How long till the girls trust me, and the continuity of the relationships in this family, to the depth of a securely attached child like James? I don't know.
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