The Prodigal Daughter

As a La Europa girl moves through each step, they are granted more and more privileges.  Miya reached Step 3 towards the end of July and was now allowed to come home for her first home pass; a long weekend. Miya’s therapist and I determined that it was fitting that Miya come home the weekend before my birthday.  I made her air reservations and started making plans for her homecoming.  After the last Parent Weekend, La Europa suggested that parents should begin to build a home support system for our daughter’s permanent return.  I turned to Miya’s local therapist who has known us for nearly six years.  She suggested that I try to replicate Miya’s structured La Europa schedule.  I went into action and had each day of the week-end planned from the time we got up to the time we went to bed.  This included exercise time, a trip to the mall, manicure/pedicure day, barbecue with her best friend, and a request by her therapist to sit together at the end of the day talking about how we felt the day went.  I was set to go!!!  The road, however, between moving to Step 3 and the travel day seemed like an eternity.  Not only because I had been waiting for months for this moment, but because a couple of incidents put Miya back on safety―which could eliminate her opportunity for this home pass altogether.

The first incident occurred when the girls were taken on an outside activity to a lake.  They encountered a guy throwing rocks at a duck; eventually killing the animal.  My impulsive daughter, and her tender heart for animals, began throwing rocks at the guy and cursing him out.  I was proud that she had the heart to stand up for the animal, but not how she handled the situation. Obviously La Europa was not either, especially as it related to Miya’s safety.

The second was Miya’s threats to two staff members.  We are finding that Miya tends to "jump on the bandwagon" with her peers or tries to protect her peers who are angry or upset at the detriment of herself.  This particular incident was a prime example and unfortunately the catalyst for putting her on safety. 

It was not until recently, during a VERY painful family therapy session, I learned of Miya’s need to protect others from pain―she would rather endure the pain than the other person.  It was also during this session that I learned that Miya felt she needed to protect me from the verbal abuse of my ex-husband when she was small. There are not enough words to express the guilt I felt at that moment.

The intent of the home pass is to allow the girls to test the coping skills they have learned and put them into practice. It wasn’t until two days before Miya was to depart Salt Lake City that I learned Miya was off safety and had been approved for this home pass.  I was thrilled, but anxious about what might transpire during her visit. So many scenarios ran through my mind, but the main thing I wanted to ensure was that we had quality time together. Miya did not learn of her homecoming until the day before departure, but listening to her excitement settled some of my fears. 

Knowing how much Miya loves her dogs, I wanted them to make the trek to the airport with me. One of my worries was how they would react to Miya and whether or not they would remember her.  I knew if they didn’t, Miya would be crushed. This was a major celebration for our family and on the day of Miya’s homecoming, we jumped in the “bye-bye car” and off we went to the airport.

Miya had made the decision that she didn’t want me to meet her at the gate.  My initial reaction was one of hurt, but after a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting with myself, I knew my daughter was experiencing growth. This time last year, my fear-based daughter would have been afraid to fly alone.  She was tackling her fears and I was proud.  I told her I was going to exercise my parental right to embarrass her, but once I saw her coming down the escalator, those liberties were overcome with tears and open arms.  People were celebrating the return of their military loved ones and I was right there with them.  My baby was home!

Overall, it was a good week-end. There were a few bumps along the way, but Miya was able to recover quickly; a far cry from the rage, anger, and defiance she left with.  She was very respectful of the boundaries and rules that were imposed on her by her La Europa therapist, as well as home rules.  She seemed more responsible and told me she felt more confident.

I was determined to keep her on the structured schedule I had outlined, however she respectfully declined the trip to the mall and the manicure/pedicure day. It became apparent that Miya really was content to just be home. The greatest enjoyment was the time we spent cooking together. I realized there was so much I hadn’t taught her and wanted to make sure I invested in this opportunity to explain some cooking fundamentals; time that had been robbed of us during our traumatic journey before La Europa.

Putting her back on the plane was hard for both of us. She was very quiet while we waited for the boarding call―and I could sense her apprehension.  I was determined to be strong for us both. A lady in line apparently had been watching Miya and me.  Just as Miya entered the ramp to board the plane, the woman said, “You two are so precious, is that your baby?”  I could only nod my head up and down. At that point my strength had given in to tears.

The Amygdala Expedition

The Amygdala (amygdalae; plural) are a pair of small organs within the medial temporal lobes of the brain. The amygdala are part of the limbic system and their primary role is in the processing and memory of emotional reactions such as the anxiety reaction or 'flight or fight' response.  The Amygdala reacts to fear conditioning.

I recently returned from my second Parent Week-end at LaEuropa.  Salt Lake City is so much prettier in the summer time and I had a new appreciation for the city.  You can almost reach out and touch the mountains that surround it. Their strong, rugged structure comforted me and I felt protected in their presence.

Miya looked good―healthy and happy.  Just like the mountains surrounding the city, the exercise and activity at LaEuropa is making Miya’s body strong and firm.  She’s more independent and has settled into a life there. It saddened me, however, as I quickly realized Miya and I are now living two separate lives. And it saddened me more every time she would refer to LaEuropa as “home.” I know this was just a response to my own insecurities. Her independence and emotional growth were only stirring up my own fears. It was through these fears that I made the conscious decision to observe Miya in her element and to always be “in the moment.” 

As with each Parent Weekend, the girls put on a Fine Arts Festival. Miya participated in 3 events for the show. She and 4 others girls dressed up as male rappers and danced to the Backstreet Boys song, “That Way.” Miya was a real hambone and stole the show!  She also participated in a moving dance interpretation to “All the Colors of the Wind.” Last, but not least, she modeled the outfit she had created in fashion class.  The assignment was to reconstruct a garment the girls had purchased from the local thrift store. I delighted in her smiling face and watching her entertain in front of a group of people―something she would never have done a year ago.  All in all, I couldn’t be more proud of her and the woman she is becoming. She is doing well in school (even an A in Algebra), and all of the teachers commented on her good manners and willingness to help them.  It’s clear to see that LaEuropa has become Miya’s safe haven.  It’s very structured and every girl is dealing with some issue, so Miya doesn’t feel like the odd man out. It’s a very positive environment and there is something going on at all times. There is no time to get bored or get into trouble.

This Parent Weekend seemed to be more dedicated to me, than Miya or Miya and I.  I was assigned to 3 sessions on my own: Emotional Reactivity (learning about the Amygdala); Relapse Prevention Planning for Parents; and Parenting Styles.  Not only did I get a great deal out of the classes, but it provided me with a great opportunity to get to know some of the parents on a more personal level.  While our girls are all dealing with separate issues, we share two things in common: where we have been and where we are going.

Miya and I did to get some bonding time, as she was allowed to spend Friday night with me at the hotel. We went out to a lovely restaurant in downtown Salt Lake and contributed to the Salt Lake economy with hours of shopping on Saturday.

Miya has been struggling with the completion of her Level 2 work and move on to Level 3. For some reason, a couple of simple tasks seem to be holding her back from completing this level. The staff feel she is in a place to move to level 3, but wanted to instill the importance of completing all assignments before she moves to the next stage. Once a girl reaches level 3, she is allowed to come home for a long weekend; something I've been anxiously waiting to have happen for weeks.

Miya is very good at shutting down instead of dealing with things that might be too painful for her. Miya’s therapist and I felt she could possibly be sabotaging herself to avoid coming home. After observing and talking with her over the weekend, it’s not that she’s afraid to come home, I believe she’s afraid to leave LaEuropa.

Miya at La Europa - June 2011

Root of Destruction

During the second level, a LaEuropa girl begins the journey of understanding what her Core Issues (toxic shame) are and how they impact her behavior and emotions. She also explores patterns that have lead to self-destruction. The goal then is to replace a deep negative meaning with a positive core meaning and learn to live according to the positive meanings.

I recently returned from my first Parent weekend at LaEuropa (April 7 - 9); the first time Miya and I had seen one another in 3 months. Coming into the weekend I tried very hard not to have any expectations. I truly didn’t know what to expect, but wanted to make sure the healing journey was Miya’s and not mine. Overall, Miya seemed more calm, more confident, more independent, and moving in the right direction.  The weekend, however, left me emotionally exhausted (it took me about a week to process all of it), but inspired by what I saw and experienced. 

Arriving at La Europa the first morning was exciting and I was full of anticipation. Driving up I could see the girls peering out of the windows with their precious little faces pressed against the door¾each waiting in anticipation for their parent(s).  Once I emerged from the car, Miya came running out to greet me and we were locked in an indescribable hug that I wanted to go on forever.  I just wanted to touch her, feel her, and have her as close to me as possible. Once inside she began introducing me as her “beautiful, little mom” and there was genuine pride in her voice.  We were all treated to a fabulous breakfast and then we were off to begin our family agenda that had been assigned to us; 1 full day on Thursday and a majority of the day on Friday. 

The agenda for Miya and me on Thursday included taking and evaluating the Meyers-Briggs personality style with several other families. The interesting thing was that most of the girls were extroverts and the parents were introverts. Miya and I were no exception, but we did score the same on the intuitive, feeling, and judging section. The afternoon session was on levels of communication and how our comments can have an impact on the other person’s self-worth¾a real “eye-opener.”  That evening we were treated to La Europa’s Fine Arts Festival. A moving inspiration where the girls showed off their talents through song, dance, instrumentals, and a featured artist who displayed her photography and painting works.  Miya and girls from her Fashion Design class modeled their Lady Gaga outfit; an assignment where they had to use recycled materials.

Friday morning I was not greeted by Miya, but by one of the staff who informed me that Miya had a rough night after I dropped her off on Thursday evening.  She kicked a hole in the wall and yanked some lights out of the wall. I was mortified, but the staff looked at this as a positive because this was the first side of anger they had seen Miya display, and were encouraged that this could be a breakthrough to her self-healing.

Miya and I were assigned to 3½ hours of team building and role playing during Friday’s session.  This was extremely emotional because it not only forced Miya and me to relive our pain, but we also intimately listened to other girls reenacting their issues and family struggles. Hearing about the other girl’s problems that brought them to La Europa was inconceivable.  The stories I heard left me sad, helpless, angry, and numb. What our young people are subjected to these days is frightening!  During one of our alone times, I asked Miya how she felt about some of the other girl’s stories. She responded with thankfulness because she had been protected from being introduced to the elements that had caused so much sadness for these girls. That response helped me realize that I had made the right decision to send Miya to La Europa. For in time, the other girl’s stories could have easily been our reality.

Saturday was a day for alone time. Miya and I enjoyed an early morning movie and then it was off to get her hair trimmed. I had made Miya an appointment, but not knowing the area or salons I relied on the internet.  At our appointed time we drove up to a quaint little home off a major street.  I don’t know what my expression looked like when we entered the salon, but it had to be blank astonishment coupled with fear. For in that instance I realized all of the operators were older than me and I had brought Miya to a senior citizen salon. There before me sat little old ladies in their perm rods under the hair dryer.  I probably was more horrified than Miya. She handled it very well and actually the ladies were very entertaining. A perfect reprieve from the emotionally-charged past two days and the hairstylist did an incredible job.  God does have a sense of humor!!!

After the senior citizen salon, it was back to La Europa before we had to say our good-byes and my return to Sacramento.  After Thursday’s night’s incident, I purposely asked Miya to find a place in the house where she and I could be alone.  My emotions took over and I didn’t want to leave her.  The more I cried, the more she became the parent trying to console me.

The week following Parent’s Week-end, Miya had an altercation with one of the staff. Obviously this coupled with her kicking a hole in the wall and my visit must have triggered Miya’s Root of Destruction. Miya has yet to fully uncover her Root of Destruction (Core Issue), but she did verbally recognize that kicking a hole in the wall was her response to her fear of my leaving Thursday night. She is anxious about many things, but I think abandonment probably ranks the highest on her fear level.  I know she worries about me and what will happen to her if something happens to me.

During a family session a couple of weeks following my visit, Miya shared the fear she has of my ex-husband’s return into our life.  I listened intently, but couldn’t help but feel guilty for what I had subjected my daughter to.  Much to my shame I realized I had put my happiness above that of my daughters.

Dedication

Many books begin with a dedication; an acknowledgement to those who supported the author in one way or another. As the author of this Blog, I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge how much comfort I have found in the words, the prayers, the support and the concern that have been bestowed on Miya and I.  These words have given me so much peace and comfort¾I am continuously humbled.

You are a strong, brave woman and I admire you!     Co-worker

You are not alone. If you feel like sharing, I know this is not easy, or need an understanding shoulder, I am here.     Friend and Mother of adopted Child

You are amazing¾I can see why God choose you to be Miya’s mom. He knew exactly what Miya would need, and it was you.  Just incredible.     Friend

What a journey.  It must be therapeutic for you to journal the past and the progress.  Someday you will read it and say that was so long ago and what beautiful young women Miya has become.  Keep writing and thanks for sharing.     Friend

I’m so happy that Miya is making progress and that you both are on the right path to a healthier relationship and helping ensure she has the tools to meet her potential and be happy in life! That is the one wish we all share as parents, that we want our children to have happy, healthy, productive lives when they reach adulthood.              Co-worker

Thank you for sharing your heart. I love you and we both know who is leading this adventure for a New Beginning.  I am so very proud of you Nancy. It takes a lot of Love and strength to make these type of decisions. Thank you for stepping out in FAITH.     Family Member

You are magic XieXie (sister) for the New Year’s note and beyond admiration for you.     Friend and Mother of adopted Child

I applaud your courage to take this step with Miya.     Co-worker

I have a new respect and admiration for you.     Friend

You have my total support. . .you have done exactly the right thing¾for Miya and yourself.     Friend and Mother of adopted Child

I had a number of inquires and thought I'd check and see if there's been any update on Miya.     Prayer group, Oregon Church

Just know that you are in my thoughts. You have done amazing things.  I want the best for you and your daughter. If she needs a family away from home or you need family/support we are here.  Your story has touched me!     Co-worker, Salt Lake City

Thank you for sharing your heart with us. Your faith and trust in the Lord through this difficult time is an inspiration to us all. We'll keep you and your daughter Miya in our prayers, praying for God's healing, strength, and wisdom in this journey.     K-Love Radio

When Denial Surrenders to Reality

The hardest part about having our family counseling sessions over the phone is that I can’t see Miya. I’m a visual person and everything tells a story for me if I have something visually to compare it to. However, during one of our family sessions a couple of weeks ago the mom in me kicked in and I could tell the moment Miya got on the phone that things were not right. Her usual sweet, perky voice was very solemn. When I asked her what was wrong, the phone went silent and because I couldn’t see her, I could only envision tears. Of course the last thing we, as moms, want to see is our babies in tears. My heart began to ache. Miya’s counselor asked why she was crying. For what seemed like an eternity, we all sat there in silence. I'm so guilty for not allowing Miya to communicate her feelings and have projected what I thought she was feeling on her instead. My reality is that as a child I was never asked to discuss my feelings or if I was, I did not feel safe to discuss them for fear of rejection or criticism. Now I’m learning that I must allow Miya to express her own feelings and provide her the emotional safety to express them.

As we sat there in silence, I instinctively started asking feelings questions wanting her to come to my conclusions. Her therapist respectfully reeled me back in and asked that Miya communicate those feelings. For what seemed like an eternity we sat in silence. Bottom line, the honeymoon at La Europa was over for Miya. She now had to face things she had either chosen not to face or work to change things that had become subconsciously engrained.

Subsequent to that week, Miya passed level one and moved on to Level 2! 

I will have the opportunity to visit Miya during Parent’s weekend April 6 – 8. There will be planned activities during the weekend, but now that Miya has reached Level 2, I will also be able to do some things with her off campus. Of course her first request has been shopping!

Since Miya entered La Europa I’ve had a couple of friends, who adopted internationally, reach out to me. In both cases, they have either placed or know of friends who have placed their adopted children in a place similar to La Europa. The complexity of adoption for these children is so hard to fathom. Their search “for self” is so unsettled and incomplete. Imagine wanting to know if you look like your biological parents or if your biological parents are even dead or alive. Imagine the guilt you would feel thinking that you caused your biological parents to abandon or give you up for adoption. Magnify these feelings by what a normal adolescent struggles with and you have all the main ingredients for a major implosion.

Hearing from these friends has convinced me that there must be so many families out there who are struggling with the same issues, feeling isolated and alone¾like I did for so many years. God has begun placing it on my heart to use our story to help others. I’m choosing to wait on God’s direction as opposed to my usual “let’s get ‘er done mode.” I’m excited at the prospect of things to come and there are so many paths He could take me. This has become my REALITY!

Shedding the Shell

Level 1 for a girl at La Europa is dedicated to Emotional Safety. Through a series of assignments, the girl learns not only about wellness and nutrition, but also to recognize and understand where her emotions come from. The goal is to become emotionally honest and learn what it means to have trusting relationships. These goals are correlated to the hardness of a lobster’s shell. When a lobster outgrows its shell, it instinctively sheds its shell and the membrane inside forms the lobster’s next shell.  However this can be a very risky process, because the lobster is subjecting itself to being tossed against a coral reef or eaten by predators. In other words, it is risking its life in order to grow. As humans we are guilty of continuing old habits or staying in a rut, staying in a bad relationship because it’s safe; nothing can happen to us. On the other hand, if we’re willing to make ourselves vulnerable and take risks, we’re able to grow.

Each week Miya and I have a 60-minute session with her therapist. For the past two weeks she and I have discussed what emotional safety means to each of us and how we’ve each contributed to “emotional unsafety” between us. This has been an eye opener. Yikes, actually verbalizing what emotionally safety meant to me gave me pause. Then we focused on trust. When Miya’s therapist asked her about trust, Miya stated she wasn’t really sure what “trust” felt like, but thought it was the same thing as love. Her answer really pulled at my heart strings. It made me feel sad to know she hadn’t felt trust, but also helped me to understand why she periodically told me sometimes she trusted me and sometimes she didn’t. If she equates trust with love, then there must have been times she felt more love from me than others. It also helped me recognize that the tribulations over the past year put us in a vicious cycle.  Her acting out, me taking away privileges and monitoring her every move because I didn’t trust her, just made her feel I didn’t love her, and then she continued to act out.  It also told me that when boys pay attention to her she feels love and why she puts more trust in them than she should.

It’s overwhelming to see that this process is going to take baby steps, but I count them as baby steps in the right direction.

On a more uplifting note, she has received positive leader for the past 3-consecutive weeks, which awards her added privileges. She loves her Fashion Design class. The assignment for that class is to design and make a Lady Gaga outfit. The girls will then model the outfits during parent’s weekend in April.  She wouldn’t tell me much about the outfit she is designing for herself, because she wants it to be a surprise.  During one of our calls Miya said, “Mom the only thing I will tell you is that the skirt is lime green!” I had to laugh because I was not at all surprised, since that is the color of her room. She went on to tell me that one of the other girls is making her outfit out of potato chip bags.  In explaining this to me, she said, “Mom we had to eat 2 bags of potato chips the other night.” To which I replied, “Oh you had to huh.”  “Yes mom. It was mandatory!”

Silence of the Lambs

For the first few weeks at LaEuropa, girls can only receive communication from their parents by email or snail mail. It’s been really hard for me not to hear her sweet voice. It’s similar to what one experiences after losing the death of a loved one. There is physical evidence they are alive, but you can’t see or hear them.

As the girl goes through the six phases they must complete to graduate, more weekly time is earned to talk with their parents, and at some point their friends. In addition, there is also a 1-hour weekly call for family therapy with her therapist. The process is about Miya, but I am a part of the process and have my own weekly assignments.

This weekend was the first time I got to speak with Miya. Our first call happened to fall on her birthday. I was so excited to hear her voice, but wasn’t sure what to expect ¾ she would either love or hate me. The first 30-minutes I spent time speaking with her therapist. After getting off to a rocky start, it sounds like Miya is starting to settle in. Last week, she  even received a weekly leader award, which allowed her to go off campus with some of the girls. I was so thrilled. Not only because she is moving in the right direction, but because I hoped it would make her feel she had some kind of celebration for her 15^th birthday. In addition, she is off safety and now she can start her level one journey. Until the staff feels comfortable that the girl will not harm herself, others, or try to run away, the girl is kept on safety and monitored 24/7.

Overall, my conversation with Miya Friday and today was wonderful. She sounded really good, very mature, and said she was glad to be there. She seems to be invested in the process and willing to work on the goals that she creates for herself. I am, however, apprehensively optimistic because I know she has not yet begun the really hard work.

When Love is Not Enough

When our children are young, our parental job is to provide them with a good foundation from which they can build. We teach them manners, to be compassionate, the difference between right and wrong, to love and honor God, and above all make them feel safe and loved.  At a certain point in our children’s lives, we transition from builders to mentors. We now walk beside, instead of in front of them. We allow them to test life’s waters, but remain their mainstay when their world crumbles. We cast out the line to see what they can handle, but are there to reel them back in when the water becomes too deep. This progression has been especially difficult for me. I’ve always felt like the mother of twins. There is my sweet, precious, funny, loving, rational, full-of-life daughter (I’ll call her left-handed Miya) and then there is devil child - angry, daring, rebellious, unpredictable (right-handed Miya).  I can throw the line out for left-handed Miya and constantly find myself having to reel her in because of right-handed Miya. This has always made parenting Miya very difficult; especially during the teen years.

The last six months of 2010 could best be described as a volatile fishing trip. The first part of the summer Miya enjoyed a trip with friends to San Diego, and then another week at church camp.  Left-handed Miya was in heaven! During the latter part of the summer, Miya had an opportunity to visit her best friend from Elk Grove to spend the week-end. When it was time to come home, Right-handed Miya called and asked if she could stay longer. Not wanting Miya to overstay her welcome, I reluctantly said yes. After nearly a week at her friends, I brought Miya home. As she was unpacking, I couldn’t help but notice that she had come home with a lot more stuff than she went with. She proudly set up a spot in her room and lined up every sized perfume bottle I’d ever seen.  Alongside the perfume exhibit she lined up 4 pairs of sunglasses and tubes of lip gloss. When I inquired as to where in the world she had gotten all of this merchandise; without hesitation she said her friend had a given her all these things because she didn’t want them anymore.  The explanation just didn’t set right with me; however I refrained from saying anything further.  For the next few days, my mind was consumed. Miya hoarded office supplies. I would find a plethora of pens, pencils, and erasers in her backpack and I had no idea where they’d come from. Through the years I was missing jewelry and most recently cosmetics, but she always denied knowing their whereabouts. In my heart of hearts I knew my child had taken the items she came home with and so I decided to confront her.
 

As Miya’s mom, she has taught me how to lovingly act versus react. Sometimes I’m better at the act vs. react. Fortunately it was one of these times. When I calmly confronted her about the store she had created in her bedroom, she admitted that she and her friend had gone on a shoplifting spree at the mall. It would have been so easy to have given her a lecture and dismissed the whole incident, but the strong parent in me would not allow me to go there.  I had her group all of items she had taken from each store.  As it turned out, Miya had shoplifted from 7 stores. My emotions went from being angry to blaming myself for what I had done to cause this situation.

I promptly called each store, explained what had happened and set up a time to come in and have Miya make restitution. To make a long story short, let’s just say Macey’s is not a store you want to shoplift from. They grilled and admonished Miya for nearly an hour. I was in tears. Miya, on the other hand went into survival mode. Even though Miya owned up to what she had done, she was now banned from going into any Macey’s store for 3 years. It scared me to death to think what they would have done if she had been caught!! We spent the next 3 hours going to each store, and in the long run, I think the whole ordeal was harder on me than Miya, and what was yet to come followed suit.

For the next three months, things went from bad to worse. She became truant from school. She would leave campus with two boys to smoke pot. She would lie to me where she was and who she was with. There were constant calls from the Vice Principal’s office, her grades were dreadful, and I never knew from day to day what was in store. I had taken every privilege away, but yet she would not comply. I was beside myself. One particular afternoon after getting a call from the Vice Principal’s office I went into my closet, rolled up in the fetal position and sobbed. I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown.

She was continuing to see her counselor and psychiatrist and while there were days of improvement, overall things declined.  I was getting letters from the school district about her truancy and the possibility that if it continued, I could be sent to jail or CPS could take her away! I was beside myself. What I saw down the road for Miya was not good and it scared me to death.

During one particular difficult week I called and spoke with Miya’s psychiatrist about getting a psychological evaluation done. She had diagnosed Miya with Reactive Attachment Disorder and ADHD, but agreed that it would be a good idea. She made a couple of recommendations. I selected Dr. Regina Granados since she had done work at the Mind Institute. At the first part of December, Dr. Granados delivered a very thorough 30-page report diagnosing Miya with: Anxiety Disorder, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Depression, and ADHD.  After all of these years, Anxiety Disorder was a new diagnosis, but from her write-up, it made a lot of sense.

In November, I pulled out all of the Residential Treatment Facility information I had researched two years ago. I made calls and did additional research on the internet.  I also decided we needed positive energy through music. I’ve always made music a large part of our lives and began listening to KLOVE; a Christian contemporary radio station. One night I was up late working in my home office. Miya had gone to bed and the house was quiet. I was listening to KLOVE and they had a talk show on adoption. They talked about how God calls all of us to care for children in need and that adoption is a higher calling. As I was listening to the conversation, I began to cry. In that moment I realized my purpose in life, the reason I was created, was to be Miya’s mom. God had entrusted me with her and whatever it took I had to fight for her.

After reviewing various facilities I made the decision to visit La Europa. In December I made the trek to Salt Lake.  I instantly felt at home from the moment I entered La Europa’s doors, and my emotions took over.  Thank God I had my project manager hat in my back pocket.  They asked questions, allowed me to ask questions, and took me on a tour of the facilities. I was there for 5 hours.  I think I met the entire staff, including the cook!  I not only got all of my questions answered, but I was also given the opportunity to sit down, alone, with 3 of the girls that were Miya’s age to get their perspective. I was emotionally exhausted when I left Salt Lake, but at peace with what I had learned. The worse feeling in the world is to know that you no longer have the tools or resources to help your child. I knew in my heart of hearts that this was the best decision for Miya, but I didn’t know how I was going to make it happen financially. At that point, I told God that if this was His will, He would find the way. He told me to go out on faith and that is what I’m doing.

A week after my visit, I informed La Europa I wanted to enroll Miya in their program and I wanted to do it when she completed the term at school in January. Now came the hardest part - telling Miya. I just didn’t know how to handle it. What would happen if I told her and she ran away. Maybe I should just tell her we were going for a long weekend and tell her once we got there. This continued to play on my mind and I couldn’t wait to get through Christmas.  At the end of December I took Miya to our family physician for some updated shots. I told him what was happening and how fearful I was about telling her.  He said, “Nancy the repercussions of telling her the truth now are better than springing it on her.”  I knew he was right, but I still didn’t know how.

After Christmas break, Miya went back to school on January 3.  I still hadn’t told her what was happening.  As was the routine, I picked her up from school and brought her home. At this point she had lost the privilege of her cell phone, time after school with friends, TV. Her only mode of communicating with the outside world was through Facebook and that was even posing a problem. She was using it to sneak out to meet boys and there was language with friends I was not happy about. I had warned her that if this behavior continued I would shut down her account.

I don’t know what possessed me this particular day, but while she was on Facebook I was looking at her postings. Nothing had changed from my warnings. I went into my react mode and went to the office computer and started cancelling her profile.  She came running in yelling and screaming that I couldn’t do that! When I told her that “Yes I could. This was my house, that was my computer, and more importantly I was her mother,” she began hitting and pushing me.  This was not the first time that had happened and I was fed up with it!  I started fighting back and said that, “If she couldn’t abide by my rules she could get the hell out of my house!”  I went in my room, closed, and locked the door. It was never beyond her to not have respect for a closed door and I wanted to stop the altercation.

I sat on my bed in silence and heard her crying outside my door. When I opened the door she said, “Mommy where am I going to go?”  I brought her in and sat her on my bed.  I prayed right there and then; asking God if he was opening the door for me to tell her about La Europa. I don’t know where the words came from, but I began. I told her about my visit and what was there to help her.  Still crying, she crawled up in my lap and said she understood but she didn’t want to go and please don’t make her go. At that point we were both crying and holding on to each other very tightly. I told her we would talk more about it later, but I knew I had planted the seed. When I went to pick Miya up the next day, I went in and told the school she would not be returning.  In my mind, it was now official.

On Thursday of that week I was on my way to school to pick Miya up, when I got a text message from her asking if she could walk home. That child never liked walking home unless it was to a friend’s house, so my mind started clicking a mile a minute on what was really going on. I told her no I was on my way. She begged, saying she needed the exercise and that’s when I knew something was really going on.  I had envisioned she had skipped school again and was off campus some place and couldn’t get back to the school before I got there.  I was also scared that she was thinking about our La Europa conversation and was running. Again, I told her no I was on my way.  I pulled up in front of the school and waited. She did not come out of the school and all of the kids were leaving at that point.  Panicked, I parked the car and went to the attendance office to see if she had gone to her last period class. The woman checked the records and said that Miya had attended all classes that day.  I told the woman I had been waiting out front and Miya had not shown up. Sensing my panic, the woman had Miya paged on campus. She immediately received a call saying that Miya was in the Vice Principal’s office.

As I walked over to the Vice Principal’s office, ironically I felt a sense of peace. I didn’t know what was around the corner, but I knew La Europa was in front of us and it made me feel stronger, ready to face anything. When I arrived at the office, the Vice Principal was talking to a student and her father. Miya was in the Vice Principal’s office hunched over writing something down on a piece of paper. I walked in the office, Miya turned around and I could see her left eye was red.  I said, “What in the hell happened?”  She responded, “I got in a fight.” Apparently a group of friends had been egging Miya and this other girl on with a she said, they said, we said thing. Miya and the other girl confronted one another and before they knew it, there was pushing, shoving, hair pulling, and rolling on the ground. Miya’s English teacher had to break them up.

As I sat there listening to the Vice Principal discussing the situation with the girls and telling them she was going to suspend them for 3 days, I continued to be at peace.  When she was finished, I asked the Vice Principal if I could speak with her.  There were only 5 more days left in the school term and I would be taking Miya to La Europa the day after the term ended. I explained what my plans were for Miya and asked the Vice Principal to suspend her for 5 days. She could be home with me and I wouldn’t have to worry where she was and whether or not she would go to class. The Vice Principal thought that was a good idea and said she would make arrangements to have Miya complete her assignments and possibly some of her finals at home.

As we all were about to leave I could tell Miya was not happy about the way the situation was ending.  She awkwardly looked for the right moment, went to her friend and apologized, asking for her forgiveness. Even though I was not happy with my daughter that she had resorted to fighting, at that moment I couldn’t have been more proud of her and tears began streaming down my face. The girls hugged and Miya’s friend left. The Vice Principal took Miya in her arms, telling her how special she was and that everything was going to be alright. Watching this unfold, I began to cry harder.

I had not eaten all day and I was famished. I told Miya “let’s go grab something to eat.” I thought it would be a good way for us to relax and collect ourselves after everything that had happened. As we were making idle chit chat, something told me this would be a good opportunity to bring La Europa up again. If she got mad, I knew she wouldn’t throw a fit in public. Where it came from, I don’t’ know, but I blurted out,

              “So what have you been thinking about with regards to our conversation about LaEuropa?”

              “I’m not going mom.

              “Well yes you are. I’ve already made arrangements.”

              “I’m not going mom and you can’t make me.”

              “Why don’t you want to go?”

              “I don’t want to be away from my friends.”

              “Well I’ve already taken you out of Del Campo.”

              “Whaaat!  You can’t do that!”

              “It’s already done.”

              “I’m not going mom!!!”

              “Well, you can cooperate and make it easy. Or, you can chose to not cooperate and make it more difficult.”

              “I’m not going!!!”

At that point I stopped interacting with her. I’ve learned that continuing to engage in conversation with Miya when she is angry is not productive. We road home in silence. As we entered our home street, she started asking questions. “Where is this place? How long do I have to be there?” Praise God!  I knew then she was starting to embrace the idea!!!

The next day Miya was completely different. I saw emotions in her that I hadn’t seen in weeks. She was giddy, smiling, laughing, and she had her cute little sense of humor back. It was as if she was relieved. When we went shopping that weekend to get her some things she needed to take with her, she playfully said, “Hey mom, new beginnings, new wardrobe?” Even though I said, “uh no,” I couldn’t help but smile and delight in the fact that God was in control! God’s hand in the tumultuous week told me that I was making the right decision and He would take care of my baby girl.

As we were making the trek to Salt Lake City on January 14, God was embracing us with his protective shield. The flight was flawless, and despite Miya’s trepidation she was handling things well. When we landed in Salt Lake City and were on the ground she said, “Mom, I always wanted to know what it was like to live in a city with snow, but this is not exactly what I had mind!” I couldn’t help but laugh and be full of pride, especially as she announced her arrival by stomping her boot in the Utah snow.

For the next few hours Miya was given a tour and got settled in while I finished paperwork. We were given a few minutes to say good-bye. As we were about to depart from old beginnings, Miya made one last comment , “Mom this better work.” I realized then she was committed to the healing process.

I think I'm emotionally drained and numb. I went into the office yesterday, but my tearful emotions made it hard to function. I now know what being an empty-nester is like. After being responsible for the 24/7 care of your child, my schedule is completely different  and I find it awkward.

I did hear from one of the education directors at LaEuropa. She said Miya enjoyed meeting her teachers and getting her school supplies. School/office supplies is one of the things that Miya hoarded, so I was not surprised to hear that. I was thrilled to read that Miya has selected ceramics and fashion design as her electives.

Old Beginnings

It's hard to know where to begin when asked about why I came to my decision to put Miya into residential treatment. It is here I will try to help you understand the painful road she and I have traveled. I know there are many who will question my decision or offer good intentioned parenting advice. There will be those who feel I've taken the easy way out, that I've given up on her and on myself. But you never know the road that someone has traveled unless you have walked in their shoes.  You are here, so I know you have loved and supported Miya and I somewhere in our lives. Our journey is not done, it is only beginning and I hope you will take this journey with us.

In 1995 God began placing it on my heart to adopt a child.  After doing extensive research, dad (God) and I decided a little girl from China would be the best fit. On February 17, 1997 Miya came into my life at age 1.  She and I bonded instantly. Even in this communist country the orphanage director looked at me, pointed to the heavens and said it was God's plan.

I will always believe Miya came out of her biological mom at warp speed; full of life and the vigor to challenge the world. Her smile can light up a room and her curiosity for life always made me stop and smell the roses. However, I was not prepared for the road in front of us nor the loss of what I thought motherhood would be.

Miya has always been a challenge - behavior problems from as early as pre-school. But things really began to unravel when she entered 1st grade.  She began to regress to an infant-like state. A once fearless tike, Miya became afraid to walk down the hall in our home, and insisted I pretend to change her diapers and bottle feed her.  At night she began having uncontrollable night terrors and her loft bed became a confined house of slumber. She insisted on sleeping underneath and demanded that I cover the opening with a sheet so that no light could enter. She also insisted that I ensure the doors on her closet were completely closed.  It was at this time that I often wondered if Miya's biological mother may have hidden her from authorities who were policing the one-child policy.

There was always a note home from school about Miya's behavior, stealing from classmates, stealing from the teacher, or mistreating friends. Sticker charts and other forms of positive reinforcement did not work. Granted, I had never parented before and I didn't know what to expect, but I just couldn't believe it could be this difficult and I firmly believed something was amiss. I decided to seek out guidance from a child therapist who had been referred to me. Miya began seeing this therapist who perceived she had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, most likely from something that happened pre-adoption. I also had testing performed by a Psychiatrist who diagnosed Miya with Oppositional Defiance Disorder. Being new to the psychiatric world I was not prepared to ask the right questions. When he dismissed me as needing to be a more restrictive parent, I took him at face value.

I took parenting classes and tried to apply what I had learned. In Miya's second year of school the behavior problems and extreme meltdowns continued, and my marriage began to collapse. I began doing additional research and learned that Stanford was starting to do studies on adoptive children. I thought if Stanford couldn't figure out what was going on with my daughter no one could. After months of jumping through hoops, we were finally granted an appointment. Since we had to drive to Palo Alto from Sacramento and the appointment was for 9:00 am, Miya and I drove down the night before and stayed in a hotel to ensure we would not be late. I had no idea what to expect. In fact, when scheduling the appointment I inquired about what to anticipate, but was told by the staff worker that she was "not a clinician" and had no idea what the appointment would entail. Had I known what was in store, I would have cancelled the appointment right then and there.

After being introduced to Drs. Joshi and Rana, Miya and I were escorted into one of the interview rooms. Dr. Joshi spent a few minutes finding toys for Miya before he excused himself, while Dr. Rana proceeded to interview me for the next 2 hours. Not only was I disturbed that this was being done in front of Miya, but I wondered why Miya was even asked to make the trip since very little interaction was being done with her, nor any psychological tests administered. Furthermore, Dr. Rana didn't seem to have any of the documentation I had sent with the Stanford intake form.

After the 2 hour consultation, Dr. Rana excused herself and ran in and out of the room several times. Her periodic return would include pop questions and then she would rush out again. Returning for the last time, she proclaimed that she had narrowed down her diagnosis to several possibilities: Reactive Attachment Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or Bi-Polar Disorder. However, Dr. Rana needed more information and wished to speak with Miya's teacher.
  
Waiting for Dr. Rana's results was like a child waiting for Santa. I occupied the time by educating myself on Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD often called Attachment Disorder), which is seen in some adopted children. It is often misdiagnosed as Bi-Polar Disorder or ADHD. RAD children don't trust and have a hard time forming relationships.

$2,500 later and another trek to Palo Alto, results day finally came. Dr. Rana greeted us and told me this meeting would not take long. Would not take long, I thought to myself. I just took Miya out of school early and drove through Bay area commuter traffic to be told, this would not take long! Dr. Rana ushered us to her office. She then proceeded to tell me that after speaking with a Dr. Chang, they had come to the conclusion that Miya's symptoms were nothing more than living in a dysfunctional household and that I lacked the parenting skills necessary to raise this child.

After I picked my jaw off the floor, I responded by saying, I thought sure you were going to tell me Miya is suffering from RAD."  In a very patronizing tone, Dr. Rana suggested I read her DSM-IV manual for a description of RAD. As I read the definition, Dr. Rana proceeded to do work at her desk with her back to me. When I finished reading, she condescendingly asked me if I understood what it said. I told her that I understood some of it, but most of it was in more psychological jargon than I was familiar with. She proceeded to tell me that since Miya had not been in the foster care system, RAD would not apply to her. Bullshit! It was at that point I knew Dr. Rana and Stanford had no clue about international adoptions.  What is involved in adopting these kids, to parent them, and more specifically that Stanford was not equipped to handle these types of cases.

Dr. Rana returned to tend to the work on her desk and I knew that was our cue to leave. When I got up to go, 20 minutes into the hour, Dr. Rana's condescending attitude now became condescending compassion. Her compassion further insulted me when she told me not to feel guilty and to contact the medical center if they could be of further assistance. Anger could not begin to describe my feelings that day.

Following the Stanford disaster, I was beside myself, literally and figuratively. My ex-husband was not supportive of the Stanford idea and this only added strength to the wedge that had been dividing our marriage. He thought it was ridiculous to spend the money and, based on our experience, he was right. However, he was suppose to be my protector, my strength, and all I wanted was his support.

Miya continued work with her therapist and I continued to fall deeper in depression. Meanwhile, Miya's issues continued - oppositional behavior, meltdowns over the simplest of things, rapid cycling moods, and now she was pulling out her eyelashes and eyebrows. Miya would hide, but I know she heard the marital fights and the verbal abuse. Maybe I just needed to be a better wife and Miya would get better. I then decided to turn my energies into saving my marriage hoping that Miya’s issues would somehow remedy themselves. I read self-help books on marriage and did the dance of keeping the peace between Miya and my ex-husband. At this point, he had refused to pick her up after school, so my 50-mile round trip to work and home shortened my work day. The shining light was that my work responsibilities had changed and I was able to work at home from time-to-time.

Miya’s therapist suggested we go to our family doctor to obtain medication for ADHD, as well as trying a natural supplement she had heard of called samE.  Neither of which helped Miya’s persistent impulsivity and her displeasure with everything. That was unless of course she could roll in it, jump off it, climb on it, swing from it, squish it or just completely destroy it.  She was not a child that wrote on walls, but seemed to make up for it by scribbling all over her books, her dolls, and furniture with pen or permanent marker.  It was almost like she wanted to say to the world, Miya was here and I’m not going to let you forget it! I had to begin watching her very closely when we went to the store because there were so many times she would come home with some sort of a cosmetic or candy item. There were many trips back to the store to return what she had stolen.  

Into Miya’s third year of school, she wasn’t getting better and neither was my marriage.  Was I really that bad of a mother and wife?  Both roles were clamoring for my attention, and both just left me exhausted and at my wits end.  I tried getting Miya involved in activities to ward off some of her energy. After a few months she got bored with gymnastics because she didn’t like waiting in line for her turn. She completed a session of modern dance, but the day of the formal recital she turned into Attila the Hun. I thought she was just nervous, but her actions left me thinking differently. When I tried to help her get ready, she was not happy with me or anything going on around her. She was either yelling at me, hitting me, or running away from me. On the way home she turned into Attila’s Archangel.

When dealing with a problem, I function better if I have the history behind the problem, because I have a starting point from which to work. In Miya’s case I wanted answers. I wanted to fix the problem. What had happened in the first year of life that was making her so difficult to parent. Miya’s therapist often had Miya make a sand tray during her therapy sessions.  Because most children cannot express themselves verbally, with the help of a sand tray, miniatures, and water, many child therapists use this as a way to explore a child’s deep emotional issues. Images, dilemmas, fears, hopes, and dreams can be accessed through the sand tray, which allow conscious and unconscious aspects of the psyche to interact. I’ll never forget one sand tray session. After Miya completed her work, the therapist consulted with me and stated that it was through this particular sand tray she believed Miya had been sexually abused somewhere along the way.  My heart dropped. I shared this with a few friends who dismissed the notion. I couldn’t help think about it and wondered how anyone could have done that to her in China. I beat myself up quietly wondering if it had happened since she had been with me. Until now I've just been dismissing the possibilities.

When a mother abandons her child in China, she dresses them in very warm clothing and swaddles them in a large basket with blankets. The mother will then go out into the night and place the child in a very public place, such as a marketplace or in front of a police station. Miya’s situation was different. She was brought to the orphanage at around 6 or 7 months of age. Ironically, Miya’s birth date was also that of the orphanage director. I always thought that strange and was convinced there was more to the story, especially in light of the fact that I was given the assistant orphanage director’s business card and was told that years down the road she would tell me the story. Aaahaa!  Now was the time and I was on a mission.

Letter writing to China can be tricky because the government monitors those types of things. I decided to enlist the help of the assistant director of the adoption agency I had used to explain our plight and see if she could help. The agency had folded, but the assistant director was now using her international adoption skills elsewhere and I had heard from her on previous occasions.  Well, that is, until I wrote her a letter for help. I’ve never heard from her again.  Dead end #1.

I went online and found information on the Gaoyou orphanage hoping something would catch my attention. I found a non-profit agency in New York that was doing work with Miya’s orphanage and had just recently returned from a trip to Gaoyou. I called and spoke with the Executive Director, hoping to get some answers. After speaking with her, she indicated she hadn't heard of the assistant director and didn’t think a letter would get me anywhere. Dead end #2.  She was, however, sympathetic to the difficulties as she had seen some of the same behavior in her own adopted children. She felt Miya would outgrow what I had been experiencing. Dead end #3. (The Gaoyou orphanage closed in 2009. Dead end forever!)

Now what. Should I continue going insane and wait until Miya “outgrew” this particular stage in her life or continue to be proactive?  I was praying the situation would get better and, on some days, it did. However the defining moment came during one particular bad day. I don’t recall what happened, but I’ll never forget the look in my 8 year-olds eyes when she stated she wished she was dead. It emotionally moved me to my core and it was at that point I knew I had to save her.

Bipolar disorder (also known as manic-depression) is a chronic brain disorder marked by bouts of extreme and impairing changes in mood, energy, thinking, and behavior.
I don’t remember who exactly introduced me to the concept of bipolar disorder, but the more research I did the more I couldn’t help but wonder if this could be Miya’s issue.  I spent countless hours on the internet doing research and ran into a site called bpkids.org. It was there that I found a multitude of resources, including mood charts. For a period of 30 days I charted Miya’s moods from morning until night hoping this would point to some common thread of answers. I also read The Bipolar Child, which describes in detail how the brain operates, how the disorder can affect a child, and the symptoms. With each passing page, Miya’s name was written all over it. Yes, I was grasping for straws, but I was desperate to find answers.

Desperate to find the hope that would save my baby, the bpkids.org website directed me to a local doctor that specialized in bipolar disorder. He was very thorough and I trusted him. He and I met for a two hour intake discussion, followed by a one hour observational discussion with Miya. He ordered a MRI and an EEG-both of which were normal.  After a month of gathering information, he diagnosed Miya with Bipolar Disorder and began administering medication. The ultimate goal-to find the pharmaceutical “cocktail” that would balance Miya out.

Unfortunately, this particular doctor was out-of-network on my medical plan and I had to go into battle for financial assistance.  During one gut-wrenching call with the insurance company, I explained that Miya had been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. The customer service representative laughed-yes laughed-at hearing my daughter’s diagnosis and went on to inform me that it was impossible to diagnose children with Bipolar Disorder.  I had a few choice words for her and hung up the phone finding it hard to breathe and realized, for the first time in my life, I was having a panic attack. My first call was not to my husband-I knew I had no support there. It was to friends from church who had known the trials I was facing. I continued to have panic attacks, but was relieved with medication that was prescribed to me by our family doctor. Our family physician knew more than my ex-husband what I was dealing with.

I had fought with myself for years trying to resolve in my mind whether or not it was better for Miya if I stayed in an unhappy marriage or divorce the only man that Miya knew as daddy. We went through marriage counseling, but he did not want to do the assignments that were being given by our counselor. I did not have it in me to deal with Miya’s trials and put 110% into my marriage without any work being done in return. He moved out, but continued to have periodic visitation with Miya.

It was also during this time that I was making weekly trips to Miya’s bipolar doctor. When I wasn’t working at home, I would leave my office in Folsom. Drive 25 miles to Elk Grove to pick up Miya from school. Drive 25 miles to the doctor. Drive back to Elk Grove to take Miya back to school or daycare and then 25 miles back to Folsom to return to work. We also made regular trips to the lab for blood work to ensure the medication wasn’t having negative impacts on Miya’s organs. 

After a year of the weekly trips and my impatience with the doctor’s inability to find the magic “cocktail,” I made the mistake of taking Miya off of all her medication cold turkey. The result, Miya began freaking out one day.  She physically assaulted me and hid under the bed, threatening to kill herself.  I called a friend who encouraged me to call 911 before she could get to the house. When the police arrived, Miya panicked and clung to me while screaming and crying.  I was able to call my insurance company and admitted her to a psychiatric hospital that night. For two weeks she was watched carefully and was being treated by a Chinese doctor who had done extensive work with adoptive children. A Chinese doctor who understood adoption-my heart soared! For two weeks Dr. Rue saw Miya daily. Miya shared abusive behavior from my ex that I had not even known about. Dr. Rue was obligated to report what Miya had shared to the authorities. After reviewing the situation, they decided Miya was not in any eminent danger and did not pursue it any further. As a teacher, my ex decided his job was more important than his relationship with Miya, so he chose to cease all ties with her.

While Miya was hospitalized, something told me to revisit Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD). I joined a parent group to get more information about RAD and get the support I needed. Most people couldn’t understand or sympathize with what I had gone through and I knew that I needed to be around parents who could relate to my situation. Several of the parents had found success in putting their RAD child in a residential treatment facility.  I did research and found a wonderful facility in Montana that specialized in children with RAD-especially for children who have been adopted. I talked extensively with the Admissions Director about Miya and was very pleased with the program they offered. I completed all of the paperwork and about a month later Miya was accepted in their program. Shortly thereafter, a well-meaning friend told me I was making the wrong decision and that if Miya had RAD, being away from me would only make things worse. At the time it made sense to me and I retracted Miya’s application.

In July 2006, Miya and I moved to Carmichael. I found a new counselor for Miya and she continued to see Dr. Rue who was treating her for depression. I also decided maybe it would be better for Miya to be enrolled in a private school that had smaller classes. Miya was still having behavioral issues at school and her once stellar grades were beginning to fall.  Sixteen months, two schools, and thousands of dollars later, I added this to my “poor decision” list.

During Miya’s 5^th and 6^th grade years, the attention turned towards her education. Her recall memory was deteriorating.  Dr. Rue tried a series of ADHD medication-none of which worked. I had Miya tested for lead exposure, which came back negative. At Miya’s counselor’s suggestion I had Miya tested by an Education Psychologist. The outcome-minor deficiencies.  I put her through an educational program for intense processing and cognitive enhancement, which did little to improve her grades.  

Miya has a terrible time transitioning and the start of each new school year has always been a bear. The beginning of 7^th grade was no different.  All of Miya’s teachers had the same comments; Miya was too social and disruptive in class. One teacher stated that he purposely sat Miya next to the quietest, nerdiest, kid in class and she got him to talk during class time. At that point, I had gotten use to those types of comments from teachers. What I was not use to seeing was cuts on my daughter’s legs. Miya had been talking about some of the girls at school that were cutting. Cutting is self-injury to the skin, which is done as a way to cope with pain. During conversations on the subject Miya shared with me, she said she thought it was stupid. Sometimes Miya can be an “old soul” when she talks and the wisdom that comes from her mouth can be philosophic. When I saw those cuts on her leg, my heart sunk. I begged her to please stop. I think she realized how much it had scared me and shortly thereafter she did stop. I realized that was her way to try to fit in, but it also gave me pause to know she was capable of such self-harm and what other harm she might do to herself. When this incident, coupled with continued behavior problems I locked all our knives, scissors, and box cutters in my safe and began doing research on a residential treatment program. Miya was now too old for the program in Montana, so it was back to square one. I found one program in Utah and another in Oregon that worked with kids her age. After several months of back and forth calls to the facilities, calls to my medical insurance, and discussions with the employee assistance program at Wells, I just couldn’t make it work financially. For reasons I won’t go into here, I now realize that God had his hand in that outcome.


That Spring Miya began seeing a new psychiatrist. Dr. Rue was a dear soul, but the monthly visits were not lending themselves to anything productive so another psychiatrist was suggested to us. This doctor had done work in New York with adopted children that came out of Romanian orphanages and I was excited about her fresh approach. It was also at this time that I began having extensive conversations with the School District about Miya being tested for learning difficulties. The district refused to do any testing. Ahhhh, my tax dollars at work. At that point, I just didn’t have anything left in me to fight them and settled for a 504 instead. A 504 is a designed plan of instructional services to assist students with special needs who are in a regular education setting. The school suggested Miya get some tutoring so she spent a summer at a Sylvan Learning Center near my office. 

Miya completed middle school with modest grades and several detentions. I was thankful that summer was upon us. Miya’s counselor and I now realized that school was just too stressful for Miya. When she was not in school, things at home were always better. However, in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think that high school was only 60 days away and I was looking at the future with hopeful trepidation.