a determined sister & a painful lesson

Mason and I decided to let Eden have her wish of rooming with her sister on our trip. We consider it a necessary life skill to be able to fall asleep in a room with a sibling. So last week, we gave it a try.

Last week we arrived in North Carolina for a month of work-related training. We get antsy once we’ve stayed in the same place for a couple years, and having just reached two years in our Florida home, it was a good time for a change of scenery.


Our family is staying in a modest, pleasant 3-bedroom apartment on campus of the organization hosting the training. When we walked in, it felt like a TLF (military temporary living facility) and looked like a grandma’s house – we felt right at home.

Eden had been talking about wanting to share a room in North Carolina with Kami Joy for weeks. The last time she attempted to sleep in a room with her sister, it was just days after we returned from Bulgaria. Eden was 3 years old, and at some point in the wee hours of the morning her new sister leaped into her bed and started violently yanking the pillows off. Kami was wild and confused, with drug withdrawals in full swing. We quickly moved Eden into Ezekiel’s room (baby Isaiah was still in our room) and gave our new child her own room for sleep training. She had slept in a crib up to age 7 in the orphanage and hadn’t even known how to climb out of it. Every morning she waited for an orphanage worker to come lift her out and herd her through the day, so the freedom of an open bed and room was overwhelming for her.

It’s been almost 3 years since all of that happened, so after giving it some thought, Mason and I decided to let Eden have her wish of rooming with her sister on our trip. We consider it a necessary life skill to be able to fall asleep in a room with a sibling. So last week, we gave it a try.

Eden is loving, forgiving, determined, laid back, and not easily fazed. The first night, she snuggled down into her bed (on the right), coolly reading a book while Kami tried to process what was happening. The door wasn’t closed as it has been for 3 years; it was open. She wasn’t alone; there was another body in the room. It wasn’t pitch dark as it had been her whole life; rays of a flashlight bounced off the walls.

Like many other lessons we’ve taught Kami Joy, it was a bit like puppy training. “Stay. Lay down. Quiet.” Coming in to correct, saying goodnight, returning to correct, repeat. It was a struggle, but she submitted without a huge fight and Eden didn’t take any of our offers to move her bed into her brothers’ room. She was excited to finally be able to sleep near her sister, and she expressed hope that it would work so she could do it again the next night.

Kami Joy has now been with us for half of Eden’s life! Ezekiel is the only child with a functional memory of life before her. And he’s truthful with us that if he could go back in time and cast his vote (we did ask the kids, little as they were, if they were on board with this rescue mission) – he would say no. We allow him to express his feelings because they’re legitimate. It has been hard, but God has allowed us to hold on to our joy, so it’s been a strengthening kind of hard rather than a destructive kind. Ezekiel also says he plans to adopt when he grows up, which blows my mind after all he has seen!

Back to room sharing: the first night took some focused training, but eventually she fell asleep and stayed asleep. The next night was easier, and we thought we had arrived. The third night, we tried to ease the sensory burden on Kami by letting Eden read in the living room. That way the flashlight wouldn’t be a distraction. But after Eden went back into the bedroom to lay down, some sort of switch flipped in Kami … maybe she thought she was getting the room back to herself. She clearly wasn’t prepared for Eden to come back. Whatever occurred, it was dark, and Eden soon tiptoed back out to the living room to tell us that Kami was banging on the wall. I hopped up from the couch, and during the handful of seconds it took me to get to the bedroom, we heard a huge thump. It was a strange reverberating noise, and when I entered the room I found her sitting on the floor next to her bed in defiance of our instruction. Mason was on my heels, and when he flipped on the light it revealed a gash on her left cheekbone very close to her eye. The blood started dripping down her pajamas and onto my feet, leaving a trail to the bathroom where we checked out the injury. She was screaming hysterically, probably from a combination of pain, shock, and anger at herself that she had taken her protest too far and was suffering for it. It is miraculous how God makes moms able to kick into doctor/nurse mode, no matter how little experience we have. I applied firm pressure to get the bleeding to stop (pretty sure she 100% hated us during these minutes, judging from how she was swinging at us and trying to get away), and when it finally stopped we were surprised at the depth and length of the cut. We realized the only surface in the room that could have left that mark was the metal bed frame. She can revert to thrashing and head banging when frustrated and had thrashed her face straight into the frame.

For a moment we considered taking her somewhere for medical care, but then we realized she’d have to be sedated to get anything done, and that by the time we would be able to reach an emergency room from our remote location outside a new city at 11:00 pm we could probably get the situation under control ourselves. (We weren’t really by ourselves; lots of prayer was going on!) We went into surgeon & assistant mode: “I need melaleuca, frankincense and band-aids!” We soon had her patched up with the bleeding stopped, but she was still hysterical. Since the boys were already asleep and we wanted to help them stay that way, we took Kami into our bedroom closet to help her calm down. The screaming and howling were loud, so we tried a few things to muffle and distract. Then I realized that with the emergency over, I should hug her. I felt truly sorry that she had put herself in so much pain. I pulled her close and rubbed her back, just like I would do for one of my other kids, and through her sobs she managed to sputter “you can hug, you can hug.” Maybe God allowed her to experience that violent accident so she could both receive care and comfort from us and remember exactly why thrashing and banging in anger is a bad idea. She is no stranger to self-harm due to a history of neglect and abuse we will never fully know about, but it’s been awhile since she drew blood.

When we emerged from our closet with an exhausted Kami Joy, where do you think Eden was? She was standing ready to give a feel-better hug and climb back into the bed beside Kami’s. It was late, so we put Eden in the boys’ room to salvage a good night’s sleep for her.

The next night Eden moved back in with her sister. Kami Joy drifted off without much trouble at all. Butterfly bandages and liquid bandaid have her wound healing up safely. Like every scar, this one will have a story behind it.

God is patiently working in me as I struggle to make each of my words gifts to this girl. Someone reminded me this week that she is a treasure. We’re still figuring out so much about her. We haven’t yet settled on what name fits her. Kami, Kami Joy, KJ, or Joy? We’re still working on that. When I tell her story to new people (of which we are meeting many this summer), I rush into it, and I don’t always know whether I feel ashamed of her behavior (most 10-year-olds don’t chew on toys) or proud of her progress (the odds were stacked against her to ever speak, use the toilet, or function in public). It’s confusing. But the people who love us best forgive us and understand that it’s complicated. And the people who love Jesus understand why she is here. The people who don’t know Him just think we are crazy for bringing undue trouble upon ourselves. If only they understood that God’s heart is for the oppressed, the neglected, the fatherless, the outcast. And how will they know if we don’t show them? God’s love knows no borders, so neither should ours.

Defend weak people and orphans. Protect the rights of the oppressed and the poor. Psalm 82:3

 

Christen

 

 

 

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