A Vita Story…

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My Vita, after going through a phase of appearing to “get it” has made some regressions in his behavior with his dad. This effectively has put me in the middle of some pretty intense disagreements and it is very emotionally draining.

Well, last week V and I were downstairs doing laundry when he looked up and said “Mom, you are the heart of this house. You are the soul of this family.”

And just as tears were starting to form in my eyes he continued with “Well, you know if you died, I wouldn’t cry or nothing but I’d think of you as I packed my bags to go live with Mrs. K.”

I looked at him and busted out laughing.

This, I think, is the perfect and honest example of the way a child with attachment disorder feels. Vita tells me constantly he loves me, and I think he does in the best way he can – but, if I were to die he’d be able to move on with no heartbreak…

 

 

 

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Loving Vita

We have a son, brought to us not by genetics but rather by adoption. A sweet little Russian boy, at age 7, when we first met him and his sister. His sister’s story is not for me to tell I think. So, let me just say that she was also adopted, she was loved, she chose to leave, and had chosen to not remain in contact with her biological half-brother. End of that story.

This is about my sweet Vita. He is now 15 (soon to be 16!) and is experiencing sadness and trauma and depression stemming from a time before we knew him. A time when, in the orphanage, a half-gypsy/half-Russian child was considered an outrage. His earliest recall of a “nickname”, said in English, was “ni@@er”.  He told me that he was one, in his still broken English, and filled with shame that we had adopted him without knowing this “truth” about him.  My outraged denials did not, I think, have any impact on changing his self-image. Apparently darker skin is not something prized in that part of the world and he paid the price by not only physical abuse, but verbal torment which his sister could not completely shield him from.

Abuse and hunger were part of his early years, not only from within the orphanage but from our understanding also from his biological mother during the brief time she had custody of him.  So, when I say that he has both a driven need for love and family and an inability to respond to love in a healthy manner, please know that is not an exaggeration.  I love him ferociously and fiercely. I love him even with the certainty that if say, tomorrow, we were to get a knock on the door and found some manner of official who would demand “Vita, come with us you are going to a new family” that he would pick up his few prized possessions and leave without a backward glance towards us.

You see for him, nothing is forever. Nothing is certain. Not even the love of a mother brought to him by God.

My poor sweet Vita.

 

Smiling Vita

His first two week summer visit with us.

V new clothes

So proud of his brand new clothes! He arrived off of the plane in ill-fitting, filthy, disgusting castoffs. His pride in his clothing can be seen in his face!

V and Bug

He *loves* his electronics. Here is Caitie showing him how to use a laptop.