Talking Trauma.

Let’s talk trauma.

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We have come a long way. A very long way. The little boy we brought home at 8 months old stared at us in fear. He shielded his broke arm from us and wouldn’t let us feed him a bottle for hours on end. His big beautiful dark eyes were hollow. Like, eery hollow.

If you’ve ever seen someone that’s been hurt or abused you know and you will never in a lifetime forget what hollow eyes look like.

His eyes stared in fear almost like they had seen a million lifetimes before this one. I remember praying that first night if he never smiled or laughed again help me to understand and love him through it.

We would drive with lights on in the car at night.

We would at times have to pull the car over and turn on the lights and get out and sing to make it home.

We have slept with the entire house lite up.

We had to avoid our church nursery for a solid year because of some sort of trigger in there (sound or lightning.)

These things seem so far now and we’ve learned how to adapt too.

But, still at times we see it’s ugly head rear up. Currently, loud noises almost make us go into the fetal position. Motorcycles going down the road or a horn beep. He’ll look up shaking and ask, “is it scaridy?” I of course always say nope not one bit just loud. We also have a heighten sense of hot and cold. For instance food temps have to be just right or he’s 100% more cautious than most 2 year olds about the temp of bath water or his carseat. And, we hold on to most items with a death grip still. One toy in each hand always.

Trauma.

It is so real friends. And, we’ve been told so many times, “at least he won’t remember.” And, this is very true. But, man these babies bodies do remember they remember the fight-or-flight feeling that abuse engrains. Trauma is very very real. We are making leaps and bounds every single day. But, eyes should be opened to the effects of abuse and foster care.

 Good news though God’s love covers all. I’ve seen in my home. It has no limits on healing and the power of redemption. By his stripes we are healed and only through him. Trauma is real and big, but my God he is bigger friends. 🤍🤍

 

XO.

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