Oh my goodness. This adoptive mom gig is going to put me in an early grave, I fear.
We recently have figured out that our adopted son, James (not his real name), almost-13, has Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder. I knew his bio mama probably drank pregnant with him, maybe worse. She had 5 children before him taken away at birth for being born addicted to meth. I don't think they tested James.
He didn't enter foster care until a week or so before his 6th birthday. He moved in with us at 6 and a half, and was adopted at age 7. Everything I read about FASD says "catch it early for the best results"!
Well, here we are. It's not early.
We knew he had what looks like severe ADHD from the get-go. He was diagnosed with a disruptive conduct disorder as well. When he moved in with us, we refused medication because we knew he had lived through a lot of trauma, and wondered how much of the behavior was just from the traumatic lifestyle. About 9 months in to him being a part of our family, 9 months of chaos and violence and meanness and fights and disrespect and constant noise-making that was not at all like the normal boy-type - we had 3 rowdy boys before James - well, we realized it was Prozac for the rest of us or medication for him.
We kept him on Concerta for 5 years. It did seem to give him just a wee bit of self-control during the day. But the mornings before the meds took affect were worse than his normal self. And the evenings when it wore off were coyote-ugly too. Finally I jumped through the hoops to ask for help from a psychiatrist. She suggested James try Intuniv, a blood pressure medication that seems to mellow kids with Oppositional Defiance Disorder out. It seemed to help a little, so we kept that going for a few months alongside the Concerta.
These past 5 years of medication have been so difficult for me. I am one who tends to use natural supplements over pharmaceuticals whenever possible. And whenever I read about the side effects James could get from the medication, my heart would break. Finally, this summer, I decided to pull off all the meds and try as many natural things as we could.
We have been using high doses of fish oil, lithium orotate, folate, and B12 all summer. 2 weeks ago, I listened to The Biology of Behavior by Dianne Craft and have sense started James on probiotics 3x/day and antifungals 2/x a day. She says to eventually add in fish oil, zinc, and magnesium. So far, no luck! No big changes. One thing Mrs. Craft mentioned for kids who are very difficult, to get them to calm down immediately while you wait for nutritional intervention to work, was 5HTP (she also mentioned lithium orotate, but we were already using it). We started 5 HTP yesterday (recommended 50mg a day for children - the pills I purchased are 100mg, but he is a big boy so I think 100mg will be fine). Please, Lord, let the 5HTP bring us some relief.
Just last night we went to an orientation for a new homeschool group we have joined. He is the oldest kiddo there, being 13 in 6th grade. He's academically about a 3rd grader, socially about 6 or 7 years old, streetwise like a 21 year old hoodlum, and has the body of a 12 year old. No wonder it feels like I'm parenting 4 kids in 1 with him! Anyway, the kids were playing outside without supervision, and a boy of about 10 pushed James. James did one of his PTSD-responses, like he has given me for squeezing his arm or pulling him toward him. It's like the physical touch is seen by his brain as a threat, and he immediately pops into fight-or-flight-minus-the-flight mode. He reacted strongly against this little boy, and the little boys 2 friends stuck up for him. I was able to break it up, but filled with embarrassment that I am bringing the big, oversized bully to the sweet homeschool event. I can't even begin to explain how much of a pride-killer this adoption has been for me. I know in my mind it is a very good thing that I can't strut my stuff like I'm Homeschooling Mom of the Year with my brilliant, sweet, kind kids. I had pride in my family for the wrong reasons before James came along, and in many ways gave myself credit for the ways my children were perceived. Anyway, now I'm the mom of a kid who beats up little kids and just might end up say "Eff you" to his lovely homeschool tutor this year.
Good times. Good times.
