Page 35

I clutch the bottle of water in my hand, trying to ground myself.

I took the whole afternoon off today so that I could meet with Jessica privately to discuss her perspective on Jason’s needs.

She’s spent the first twenty minutes explaining the science behind how trauma wires a child’s brain, even beginning in utero with heightened cortisol if the mother has a stressful pregnancy.

She’s explaining all the scientific reasons that Jason’s brain is so quick to react to perceived threats and slow to regulate his emotions.

The amount of information feels paralyzing.

I’m incredibly grateful to understand the physical realities of Jason’s brain chemistry contributing to the behaviors and outbursts.

But understanding certainly doesn’t “fix” it.

And it only makes me grieve all the more for what that sweet boy has been through.

That he’ll forever deal with the effects of neural connections that weren’t his fault.

I want to take it all away—love it all away—but I’m overwhelmed by how not that simple this all is.

“There are a variety of strategies that we can use to help Jason learn to regulate what he’s feeling.

Remember—we all learn to self-regulate through co-regulation,” Jessica explains.

“That’s typically provided by birth parents responding to a baby’s cries and soothing them.

But if Jason missed out on that period of co-regulation—which it sounds like he did—then he’s never been taught to regulate.

That’s going to come from you, now. When Jason has these angry outbursts, you need to switch your brain from looking at it as ‘my child is destroying things in anger’ to ‘my baby is crying.’”

I sigh as I process what she’s saying. “That sounds easier said than done.”

“It’s one hundred percent easier said than done,” she replies with a supportive laugh. “It’s really hard to regulate your own emotional response when you have a kid violently tearing things apart in front of you.”

“That’s something else I don’t understand,” I say.

“It’s not like he’s destroying things he doesn’t like.

Or even things that are mine. The posters, especially, but also the Lego sets—those are his prized possessions.

Why would he destroy the things he cares most about? There’s no logic to that at all.”

Jessica hums. “Well, first of all, it’s important to remember that when Jason is having these outbursts, his wise old owl brain has flown away.

So his actions and words are not going to make logical sense.

But I could see a handful of underlying feelings that could be causing him to destroy things he cares about.

Children who have been through trauma and abandonment almost always have a lifelong struggle with shame from feeling like they weren’t good enough for their parents to care for them.

They feel unworthy of love. They’re often convinced that there’s something deeply wrong with them , rather than the adult figure, even if they don’t consciously realize it. ”

My heart clenches thinking about Jason feeling that way.

“One explanation could be that deep down, Jason thinks he doesn’t deserve to have those special things because he’s a bad kid.

He must be a bad kid if his parents and grandmother left him.

So he has an urge to destroy those good things when his ‘bad behavior’ is discovered,” she says, miming air quotes.

“It’s also possible that he could be subconsciously testing you, seeing how you will respond to him destroying something special.

Whether you will continue to care for him or if you will also leave.

Or, he may have seen destructive behavior modeled by his father when he was upset.

It will likely take a while before Jason is able to recognize what the thoughts and emotions are underneath his actions. ”

Teary-eyed, I blow out a long breath. “And in the meantime? How do I support him and help him get to that point of understanding?”

“Like I said, there are a variety of tools available that we can add to Jason’s toolbox,” Jessica says.

“Of course, we will continue talking and doing some hands-on sensory play. But we can also explore neurofeedback therapy that helps him learn to soothe his brain activity. EMDR therapy is also a very effective tool to help process the stress of traumatic memories. Medications could be an option. We’ll take it slow—as I get to know him better, I’ll give you my thoughts on what might be most effective, so this isn’t something you need to decide right now. ”

Well, I know what all of my Google searches tonight will be .

“There is one tool that I think could be very critical for him to start immediately, though, and that’s working with the occupational therapist here at our practice.

In order for Jason to be able to regulate his feelings, he first needs to be able to identify what his body is feeling.

Our OT specializes in helping kids connect with what’s happening in their bodies when they experience certain emotions.

I think he could really benefit from working with her in addition to seeing me,” Jessica explains.

“Okay,” I say, mind reeling to process all this information. “I hate to even ask this, but on a practical note, I need to know what I’m looking at financially to get him the help he needs. So I can make a plan.”

Jessica gives a gentle grimace. “I can tell you it won’t be cheap.

While Jason is still in foster care, some sessions will be covered by his insurance.

But once the adoption is finalized, your medical insurance doesn’t provide coverage for the talk therapy or this particular type of occupational therapy.

It will be out of pocket, but we can work with you on payment plans and possibly staggering weeks with me and OT.

I’ll email you some concrete numbers after I talk with our OT. ”

My heart sinks. Of course, I want to roll out the red carpet for anything that would help Jason to work through the trauma he carries with him.

But, as a single mom on a teacher’s salary, still paying off student loans and living in an area where rent is not cheap .

. . I’m afraid to find out what dollar amounts I’m looking at.

Jessica must see my inner turmoil. She reaches a hand over to pat mine.

“I know this is a lot to take in. Not just financially, but emotionally and mentally. The fact that you’re here exploring these options is proof of how much you love Jason.

And remember that even though your love for him isn’t enough to fix what’s happened in his brain wiring, it’s not nothing.

Your day-in and day-out expressions of love for him are going to be a huge piece of the healing puzzle.

Even if we don’t see the immediate results we wish could be possible, you can help to rewire those neurological connections for him.

Over time, you can help his brain learn that he is safe, that he is wanted. Your love is a powerful thing.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, vision still blurry from tears.

“Make sure you have a good network of people you can lean on for support through this,” Jessica says. “You’re going to need others holding you up as we work through this with Jason. We have a long road ahead of us.”

When I leave Jessica’s office, I sit silently in my car, processing.

Although, processing is probably too productive of a word to describe what’s happening in my brain.

The thought factory, as Griffin loves to call it, is not churning out functional thoughts.

It’s a muddled mess—an overloaded machine on the verge of breakdown.

I press my palms over my eyes, trying to suppress the tears. I’m overcome by the longing to feel Griffin’s arms around me, to press my ear to his chest and listen to his heartbeat. When did his embrace become my preferred form of regulation?

Focus, Danae. You can’t help Jason if your thoughts are constantly pining after Griffin.

Sighing, I close my eyes and lean back against the headrest. A few moments later, my lap is covered with tiny flecks of clear nail polish.

I call Griffin.