Trauma seek and find

Brent and I have been on a journey with our third, Banshee, trying to discover the root of her sensory issues.

To try and navigate a world with which we are not well-versed, we began participating in art therapy.

My oldest, Sprite, has been going to her art therapist for a few years now.

So, when Banshee started showing signs of some sensory and emotional swings, we added her to the roster.

This has brought a few things to light: she does have some sensory issues, but that she will likely grow out of them.

But, one of the things that threw me off was the root.

Trauma.

I kept thinking, nothing has happened to her.

She hasn’t been gravely sick, she has a good home where her needs are met, etc.

But, she was talking about birth trauma and her first year and a half of life.

My pregnancy with her was riddled with anxiety: I had a hematoma that they constantly monitored (and thankfully didn’t grow); she was breech at 36 weeks and they wanted to schedule a c-section (she turned a couple of days later); while in labor she was in distress so I had to push her out quickly; following birth, I had some postpartum hemorrhaging.

All of that is anxiety, that not only I experienced, but she did as well.

Then when she was 5 months my dad was diagnosed with cancer.

At this time we began numerous travel stints from here to North Carolina where we could be with him, care for him, and bring some extra busyness and distraction to him.

For 15 months following his initial diagnosis, we traveled 12 hours one way with a van loaded with our stuff, including our newly purchased puppy (because, if you’re gonna do something do it right!).

We would stay for 3-4 weeks at a time, then return home for a week.

Large time spans where she was not in her home.

At the end of the 15 months, just after Christmas, he passed bringing insurmountable grief on us all, including a little 18 month old who had no control or understanding of her changing environment.

Do you know what a blanket term for all of this is?

Trauma.

And, here’s the weird thing about trauma.

It doesn’t show up in ways you’d expect.

Trauma doesn’t appear in moments where you can say, “Oh, yeah, that’s because of trauma.”

No, it shows in the regular day to day activities that seemingly make no connection.

One of these instances happened to me a few days ago.

I literally found myself standing at the kitchen sink, doling out freshly made macaroni and cheese, and feeling stumped.

Banshee, just before this instant, was sent to her room because she began screaming after I accidentally poured the cheese into the pot of noodles.

Prior to me draining the noodles, she asked if she could be the one who poured in the cheese and mixed it for everyone.

Sure, no problem.

It came time.

I opened the cheese packet and dumped the cheese into the pot.

Did you catch that – –>I<– dumped in the cheese.

Completely and utterly forgot.

I was in the motion, with it in my hand, and poured it in.

It wasn’t until all of it was sitting in the pot did I realize my mistake.

Crap.

“Sweetie, I am so sorry. I was not paying attention. I apologize. I will make sure the next time you get to pour in the cheese. Would you like to mix it?”

She begins closing up, opposite hands holding tight to her arms, head down, and the whining and wailing began.

“Sweetie, I am really sorry.”

The whining builds.

She’s so upset she cannot move on.

She walks around the corner to the couch where she continues, and even intensifies, her volume.

*deep breath*

“Banshee, go to you room and take a few minutes.”

She very reluctantly gets up, whining as she heads down the hallway where she slams her door and out it came.

Screaming at the top of her lungs.

I don’t have a camera in her room, but I have this feeling she is just standing in the middle of her room, leaning over and pushing out all the cries and screams with every breath intake.

Y’all, she goes like this for 15 minutes.

15 whole minutes.

I literally didn’t know what would be the best course of action.

Should I go in and talk with her?

Should I give her space to feel frustrated and disappointed with me?

I don’t want to rush in every time something doesn’t go her way, or someone accidentally disrupts her expectations or routines.

Yet, she’s also 4, almost 5 if you ask her.

Nonetheless, neither option felt like the right one.

So, I waited.

After some time had passed, she came out of her room and meandered into the kitchen where I was.

She came up close, head down, and said, “Mommy, I really wanted to put in the cheese.”

I picked her up and held her close.

“I know, sweetie. And, I promise I didn’t put in the cheese to hurt you, I really just forgot. I am so sorry. Do you forgive mommy?”

She shook her head up and down.

I held her like that for a few minutes, then set her down so she could eat.

She went to the table and ate her lunch.

As she did, I just looked at her and remembered that she doesn’t know what’s going on in her body.

Her emotions are bigger than she is.

And the trauma from her developing in my belly, to experiencing the extreme sadness of my dad’s journey with cancer and passing, have deeply affected her.

So much so, the accidental mishap of me pouring in the boxed cheese mix into the noodles bring up very large, and uncontrollable emotions and reactions.

Trauma is a finicky topic.

Its triggers are sometimes unknown, particularly with little bodies.

I would actually really love to hear how those of you who’ve experienced trauma, what are instances you’ve seen it appear?

When did its expression or reaction catch you off guard?

What have you learned?