Musings of an Adoptive Special Needs Mom: Wisdom from Above

"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault."
James 1:5

Motherhood, no matter the quantity or the age of the children, presents many opportunities to be stretched and grown in wisdom, patience, and selfless love.

For some mothers and in some seasons of life, weeks can sometimes go by without much conscious awareness of the challenges.

For others or in other seasons of life, there can be stretches of days, weeks, and months in which one's awareness of their inadequacies for the task of motherhood is poignant and haunting.  In which the "right" thing to do is not entirely clear and the lack of a mothering textbook brings us to our knees seeking wisdom from above.

Mothering children from hard places makes the latter experience more my norm.  Mothering little girls who have emotional fallout from early childhood trauma, one of whom regularly faces the trauma of ongoing medical interventions, often leaves me pining for wisdom.

Several events this summer brought this fact home to me once again in a fresh way.

If you follow me on Facebook, you may be aware that Lilly passed the swim test at our local neighborhood pool mid-way through the summer.  It was  a proud mama moment.  And a glory to God moment.  Lilly's scoliosis compromises her lung volume and her aerobic capacity significantly, and results in an increased metabolism and greatly diminished stores of body fat.  She has basically zero buoyancy as a result; she is essentially a brick in water.  She has worked so hard for so many years trying to  master swimming.  For years she has watched all of her friends pass the swim test at the neighborhood pool and hence swim freely all over the pool, while she has been confined to the shallow end (or in deeper waters within an arms' reach of an adult), wearing a red wristband to identify her as a non-swimmer.

So, on July 12th, mid-way through the portion of the summer in which she was able to be submerged in water (surgery just several weeks later has had her out of the water), she was determined to give the swim test a try.  She has watched so many take this test...and worried she might never be ready to do it.  She had to swim 25 meters without touching the bottom, the wall, or the lane rope, and she had to tread water for 60 seconds.

And she did it.  Just barely, but she did it.  What a huge boost to her self esteem and confidence.  I am amazed at her determination and her drive.

Now this success was entirely welcomed, to be sure.  But that very same day, a new set of mothering challenges emerged for me that I hadn't had the foresight to anticipate.

First of all, with her newfound confidence and swim-test-passing status, Lilly was convinced that she should be permitted--in accordance with the neighborhood pool rules--to go to the pool completely unaccompanied now.  I had to somehow explain to her—without squelching her newfound pride--that, even though she has passed the swim test and must no longer wear the red wristband, she could not just jaunt down to the pool on her own.  And even when we do go to the pool together, I will still feel the need to keep a watchful eye on her.  How does a mother cheer on her daughter and encourage her in her new swimming status, and not quash her sense of achievement, while still ensuring her safety? We have been working on a happy solution.  She has come to accept my expectations about only going to the pool with me or another responsible person above a certain age, and I have come to find ways to keep a watchful eye on her without hovering. Not an easy balance to strike.

The second unexpected bit of fallout from Lilly's swimming success is related to her younger sister, Isabel. As is often the case in our home, the “virtual twinship” of these sweet girls—just 10 weeks apart in chronological age—produces its own set of parenting challenges.  

Isabel's primary challenges in life--struggles with learning, memory, emotion regulation, and motor planning—we believe also stem from severe early childhood neglect or  trauma. She, too, has been working very hard to master swimming.  For many months, Tom and I suspected Isabel would pass the swim test before Lilly...she has greater buoyancy and seemed to be progressing more quickly in the water.  But the motor planning piece is still lacking and she struggles to keep afloat after pausing to take a breath.  Not just that, but when she is in the wrong emotional state, her motor skills plummet.  With Lilly's success came, for Isabel, a sense of failure.  The unspoken, constant, and subtle competition between these two sweet girls sometimes just does them in.  

Ever since, going to the pool with Isabel has been no fun.  She is obsessed with "practicing" her swimming the entire time, but her fear of failure then puts her in an  emotional state not conducive to actually making any progress.  She spends most of her time in the water crying and complaining that she can’t do it.  And so the new challenge for me is to constantly encourage Isabel, build her up, and coach her in her swimming, while also trying to let her know that even if she NEVER passes the swim test (which she will), I will still love her and we'll still have fun at the pool together.

Finally, another regular area in which I find myself crying out for wisdom relates to Lilly’s regular surgeries and the logistics that they create for our family. During the school year, we typically make arrangements for neighbors to help get Isabel onto the school bus in the morning, then Anna can care for her after school until Tom gets home from work.  Isabel struggles with these regular separations—while Lilly sees the time spent one-one-one with me to be one of the few silver linings of her regular surgeries.  

Summer surgeries, however, make family logistics more challenging without the chunk of time spent in school and teens both working during the day.  This summer we made the decision to bring Isabel along so she would be able to enjoy time with her cousins in NJ while Lilly and I went to Philly. Isabel was thrilled when she learned she wouldn't be staying behind this time.  Lilly, on the other hand, was visibly disgruntled at this new development, feeling that her one-one-one mother-daughter time was now being tainted by having Isabel along, and—even more—knowing that Isabel would have the privilege of spending a few days in the presence of beloved cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents while Lilly was in the hospital. 

Sibling rivalry is nothing new or unique.  Sibling rivalry compounded childhood trauma and a virtual twin hood created through adoption, however, nearly always renders conventional parenting wisdom and strategies void.  I again cry out for wisdom, and find myself striving to teach my girls both to “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another...” Romans 12:15-16a

I am reminded that, even though my mothering struggles may be intensified or complicated because of my girls’ uniqueness, the challenges really stem from the same problem of sin—the same place of brokenness—that we all have.  And the solution is to be found in the same place—the righteousness of Christ, wisdom from above, and learning, as a mother, to daily walk in the Spirit. 

So I press on to walk with Him, crying out for wisdom and striving to love with grace.