The Impossible
by Tshandra
Seven years ago we were close to an end. Peanut was collecting knives and lighters with the intention of killing us in our sleep, and then burning down the house to hide it. She had been known to rage up to 36 times in a single day and I was exhausted.
If I didn’t restrain her she would escalate into violence against her environment, herself and anyone or thing nearby, especially me. Add to this she was extremely sexually reactive. She groped Spice, Sunny and most often she groped me; with half a chance, she self stimmed against anyone who would stay still long enough. The final straw was our therapist at this time. She told me that she had ‘cured’ my girls, and I was making them sick all over again. I believed her and became suicidal.
By the grace of God, I had met a newly forming group of therapists who not only got RAD but took specialized training to treat it. We started seeing our new therapists in February, and in May Peanut was their first ever intensive. After two weeks of the hardest work I have ever done, we had a new girl. She wasn’t healed but she was attached. The last day of the intensive, she asked us to protect her from her birthfather who had threatened to kill her if she ever told.
The next seven years were not all smooth sailing, but we have never been so close to disruption since then. She has healed and grown and she is my miracle. She tells us that she loves us, that we are the best parents she could have, and she is so grateful that we adopted her and never gave up. Although she has FASD, Bipolar and brain damage, she is attached and more loving than either of my birth children were. Not that I am criticizing them, but the love she has for us is so intense. Sometimes the love in her eyes is so intense it hurts my heart.
This year she has gone with her Christian school group on a mission’s trip. She will be gone for nearly two weeks. This is a first for her. Peanut is my miracle and my blessing. The impossible happens.
