Rex Rage

The most challenging aspect of Rex’s transition into our family that we are experiencing are his rages. They can last anywhere from a few minutes to half an hour and they happen about four to five times a day. These rages entail kicking his legs, screaming at the top of his lungs, banging his head, pinching himself and us, sweating through his outfits and drenching his hair completely in sweat, hitting his forehead with his fist until it is bruised, and hitting his cheek with his fist until he bleeds from his mouth. While these rages happen, we hold Rex as loosely as possible, but still tight enough to prevent him from injuring himself. Sometimes we rock him and sometimes we sing to him, but for the most part we just hang in there with him until his hurt and anger and aggression subside.

This morning started with a half hour rage which I believe was set off by Craig leaving for work. Rex gave himself a bloody nose though I don’t know if it came from a self-inflicted punch or simply from the pressure of crying and struggling for such a long time. When the rage was finally coming to an end, Rex settled his head into my chest and fell asleep. I lay down on the floor with him and he slept cuddled up on top of me for about half an hour. The feeling of reaching the other side of a rage with my son for me is one of great peace, accomplishment and closeness, like a profound quiet and reward after a wild storm.

I am not sharing this information publically to deter anyone from adoption. On the contrary, I want you to know that our son is an immeasurable blessing to us. He is resilience personified and I am proud of how he has handled the first two years of his life. He survived near starvation in infancy and has bounced back to the 15th percentile in weight on US growth charts now. He survived a surgery and week-long hospital stay without doting parents by his side. He survived and still does yet untreated medical conditions that affect his development. He survived orphanage life being the child who was described as “loves playing alone,” as “best not disturbed when he’s doing something,” as “moody or having a volatile temper.” No, he wasn’t the sweet, cuddly and receptive kid that every orphanage caretaker loves to snuggle or play with or teach, so he survived without it. He did what he had to do to make it through all of these experiences and deprivations and it is going to take lots of time, patience and love from us to help him heal and realize that he can live differently now.

I wrote this entry because I want everyone considering adoption to get educated and everyone in process to get prepared. Read books, join forums, ask questions of experts, of your agency, of other adopters, follow adoptive families’ blogs, connect with knowledgeable local adoptive parents, and find resources for help in your area. You have to go into this experience not only with your heart wide open, but also with your eyes wide open. You may not face the exact struggles that we are currently handling, but I guarantee there will be something at some point on this road. I am so grateful for all I learned in the last two years from books and online sources as well as from blogs and forums. I am thankful for the wise adoptive moms and dads I have met, for the advice and encouragement we have been given by doctors and their staffs, social workers, (P)APs, and our agency, and for the understanding and generosity of our own families. It’s a tremendous asset to us now that our son is home to be able to tackle this transition so well educated, so well prepared, and so well supported.