So, this series of posts and videos on trauma is coming out slowly, and with care. The reason is that it takes quite a lot of energy for me to write about it in ways that can (hopefully) be relevant and supportive to others, and—frankly—because we still live with it. Trauma heals, but it doesn’t “disappear”—and big changes or stressful circumstances can trigger it in new ways. We are dealing with that during the pandemic, so there are times when I would like to be writing and sharing and teaching, but I need to focus on caring for my family (and myself)—and I will always, always do that first. (My teaching would be no good if I didn’t).
In my previous posts I shared about how I discovered that my younger child had trauma, when he was 3 years old and started school—a change that was so overwhelming to him that it tipped my family over the edge from managing our challenges (sometimes just barely), to feeling like we were losing our son.
What I didn’t share was 1) the source of the trauma, and 2) an important diagnosis of brain development that it revealed to us. Here, I’m sharing those pieces—plus what to do next if you’re observing signs of potential trauma or toxic stress in your child.
With extensive testing and consultations with our pediatrician, we came to understand that my son likely experienced trauma in utero. I became very ill when I was pregnant with him, which resulted in frequent fainting, iron depletion that could only be mediated by weekly blood infusions, and other complex symptoms that led to referrals to cardiology, gastroenterology, and reassignment from my midwife to a high-risk obstetrician. I managed this while working full time in the neuroscience lab and caring for my older child, which was stressful—but at the time, it felt like that’s “what we do” (anyone relate to that?). I finally had a safe, natural birth with my wonderful midwife and doula, although my son arrived in quite a hurry (I always say he shot out like a cannon—and for that image, you are welcome).
My son’s birth alleviated certain health issues for me, but others became worse, and after two long years of testing and searching, I found out that I had developed an autoimmune disease, likely triggered by my pregnancies. (I would also like to go on record to say that I’m quite certain my autoimmune condition was triggered not only by the pregnancies, but also by the parenting).
And here is the crux of the issue of interdependence in our child’s health and our own: my illness almost certainly led to his—in effect, causing an interactions of illnesses in which each of us impacted the other.
So while I was struggling to stand up some days, and having sometimes bizarre complications which my OB (who was extremely intelligent, compassionate and pragmatic) assured me were nature’s way of making sure the fetus was obtaining the resources he required, my high levels of stress hormones like cortisol were crossing the placenta from my brain and body, to his. And recent research (some of which is younger than my son) is consistent with the idea that his brain was affected by that physiological stress. I now know that natural cooperation between baby and parent does involve competition—and sometimes, the resources available are not quite enough.
I mentioned our brilliant and thoughtful pediatrician before, and I will again here: because as we uncovered this story—which suddenly made more sense—we created a plan for treatment for my son and me—as a system. We agreed that his health could not be fully understood without taking into account mine, and vice versa (his trauma exacerbated my autoimmune disease, which is perhaps needless to say but there it is).
Now, at this point I had taken my son out of school, knowing that he needed some combination of time, support and maturation to be ready for that experience. That that move was correct was immediately evident, and our family began to be able to breathe again when his rages sharply declined. But removing him from school wasn’t the complete solution, because it left open the gaps in his abilities to cope in the world. As the pediatrician investigated further into my son’s behaviors that were consistent with PTSD, it was clear that he had a neurodevelopmental disorder called Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). (I will have MUCH more to say on this, because it is a fascinating window into children’s needs for Optimal Brain Growth!) This diagnosis led us to a smart, creative and deeply empathetic Occupational Therapist, who promptly changed his life, and ours. We onboarded a new—fabulous—member of our family “team”, and really started moving down the road towards healing.
As for me? My health took a new path towards healing, too. Once I understood the source of my illness, and the interdependence of my son’s health and mine, I was able to move confidently down a road of healing that would bring more calm, joy and vibrancy to my whole family.
This is just another small piece of story, but here’s what I want you to take from it:
Trauma does not always begin with a single, external event (such as an accident or abuse). Its source can sometimes be harder to identify or understand, and can be the result of various kinds of ongoing ‘toxic stress’—in my case, the physiological stress of my illness during gestation. And, as in this example, trauma can occur in utero or in infancy, before the child has the capacity to develop memory of it—so the fact that a child will not remember that a trauma occurred does not mean that it will not affect the development of their brain-body system. When we suspect that a child may have experienced (or be experiencing) trauma, we need to observe and investigate carefully for the source.
Your child’s health and your health are not really separable—they operate as a functioning system. When seeking support for your child and family, this interdependence must be taken into consideration. Treatment for one will affect treatment for the other.
When trauma affects a child’s developing brain, we need to understand HOW. I will be sharing much more about my son’s diagnosis of SPD, and what that means for supporting his Optimal Brain Growth (hint: it has a LOT to do with the requirements for any child’s brain development… just a little extra of some things!)
Discovering that your child has experienced trauma may bring up a lot of emotions, possibly including grief, shame, anger or helplessness… or even relief from finding the source of their suffering. In this process, you need to get support for YOU—remember, your are a system: what helps you, helps your child.
In the next part of my story, I’ll share how we treated my son’s neurodevelopmental disorder, and observed the PTSD subside—along with our family’s suffering. This is an AMAZING process to witness, and has provided a deep well of learning for me and my family. It has built our family’s capacity for empathy, my husband’s and my daughter’s understanding of brain development, and an approach to healing that my entire family now embodies systemically. This is what supporting Optimal Brain Growth looks like.