Not All Tangled Up Anymore (April 25, 2008)

hallelujah

Music

Both of my guys love music. Here they are watching a trio of musicians outside of a local wine shop this afternoon. Maybe one of them will be a musician. They are beautiful children.

Getting Big

Is it possible that my baby is going to kindergarten Tuesday? Time is tricky. Every day with him has been my favorite day with him so far. This little letting go is all at once painful and beautiful. I am proud of Scott.

And look who is sleeping a little better in his "big boy bed"!

Thank You

This time last year, we were about to embark on the journey of a lifetime, but two women were about to make a sacrifice of love for us. When we arrived at the orphanage to become Daniel's parents and family, two women stood out as the ones who had been loving him like crazy for the first year of his life. They watched his confusion and fear with wariness as we went through the chaotic orphanage procedure that I wish could have taken longer. I wish we could have talked to them. I want to thank them for loving him and teaching him how to love. I cannot imagine how strong these women must be to give their hearts and to let go. They have given me a gift I can never reciprocate.

Today, Daniel and I went through the Vietnam pictures, and he said "baby" at first. Then, he realized he was the baby. I wonder what he can process and remember. I hope to hold the memories of these special women in his heart. I cannot express my gratitude in the way I feel it.

God... And

(in my arms August 25, 2008)

August 14, it will have been a year ago when we got the AWESOME email approval from CIS that we could travel, finally, to Daniel. For months, I had been getting up all through the night to check my email for the millionth, trillionth, gabillionth time. I had spent literally every waking moment composing letters, making phone calls, devising plans to convince my government that his life was worth examining so he could have a HOME and ASAP. On this night, I had been crying. Not just the regular sad, sorry, mad cry. Mine was the balled up in a little corner of my sofa just empty and sinking, sinking crying. I did not check my email just before falling asleep. I prayed. I said to God that I could not foresee the culmination of this process. I felt, I told God, that I would not be able to find a way to live with the guilt and loss and tragedy of having Daniel grow up in an orphanage, but, I told God, I could not see a way to help him anymore. I was starting to believe that we would never get an approval. God, I said in my mind, I cannot see how I will live through this, and I honestly cannot go on this way. I am broken. Please help me; please help my baby. I don't remember stopping crying before I fell asleep.

God was silent, but I did not wake up that night in my zombie search for answers that never never seemed to come.

My husband, not a person to wake at night to check for the magic email, got it before I woke, and he came running into our bedroom with our laptop. I had to rub the sleep out of my red eyes to read it twice because I was so soundly asleep that I thought I was dreaming at first.

I have been broken before:

1) My dad had heart surgery. I had no job, no plans, no home, and I thought I might be losing my dad. I was terrified. I curled up in my sinking, crying ball and said to God, "I don't have any way to control any of this. I am broken; please help me."

Within a week, I was engaged to my husband, who I had loved for all my life, I guess. I had gotten a job where he lived, and my dad got a little better.

2) After miscarriages and infertility, we finally got the test that determined our issue. We were told that we would probably not ever have biological children. Same broken plea.

And then I found out, about a week later, that I was already pregnant with Scott.

Heartfelt prayers do not always bring the answers I want them to bring. Can prayers cure infertility or solve government problems or bring health and prosperity unless that is what God wants or wanted before the prayer was prayed? I don't think so. Maybe God has a way of breaking us competely so we can accept gifts, when they come, as his gifts. I honestly don't know how all that works, and I have witnessed really horrible things happen to people no matter how much they pray or not. I also don't think that God blesses people with answered prayers because they are good and faithful. His answers seem more complicated. All I know is that I feel compelled to pray, lots.

Those three moments in time stand for me as possibly the most defining ones of my adult life. In my gigantic broken moments, God seems to be telling me to trust him. Give up, you, he says. You can't control this. Why do you spend so much of what has been given to you trying to be in control? Why can't you just trust me?

I have been hesitant to talk about my relationship with God here. Some people who check in are not religious at all or are devout Christians or devout other religions, and both kinds of people might read this post with judgement. However, I cannot remember that night without recalling how that prayer sent me sadly to sleep, but to really sleep for the first time in seven months (and actually for the last time since then...hence Daniel's sleep issues ensued). The peace was strange. The next morning, like the days following my dad's illness and my infertility diagnosis, felt a little like my own private miracle. I wonder why I can't just trust God for everything, whether I feel broken or not, and I guess that is what has me thinking tonight.

And, thanks to those of you who had some good advice and support for my pediatrician situation. I picked up the form and talked to the receptionist who was almost in tears when she apologised. I felt like she understood the problem. She even said that one reason she was asking about it was because she wanted to adopt a child one day. Who knows. People can be really stupid, and I have also said stupid things in my life, many times. I chose option 2 (talk to her) and 3 (move on). I like our doctor. I'll see how things go at our next appointment before I decide to leave.

Blech

Yesterday, I took a form to our pediatrician's office for Daniel's new school. As soon as I entered, I noticed the cranky lady, who sometimes runs the intake window, was there. I put on my happy face and kill them with kindness attitude, and I proceeded to go through the "please ask Dr. so and so to fill out this form" protocol. The background with Lady is this: she doesn't like me. She doesn't like that Daniel is my son. I only suspected before based on her sour looks and disapproving tone, but yesterday, I found out for sure.

Everything complete, I set out to round up the boys who were playing together in a tent in the waiting room. There was no one else waiting, and the guys were having fun, so I sat down for a minute to listen to them giggle. This is what I heard Lady say, loud, "Why do people adopt from other countries? There are plenty of children in the US...more...more...etc."

I know that her opinion is pretty standard anti international adoption talk, and I am not naive; I understand that there are many people who are thinking/ wondering the same thing when they see my family. However, she was speaking in the receptionist seat at my PEDIATRICIAN's office IN FRONT of MY CHILDREN. I was steamed. I was so steamed that I did not say, "Domestic adoption is an excellent option, and if I knew when I began trying to adopt a baby back in 2005 what I have since learned, I might or might not have gone in that direction. However, I would not, for every bit of life inside of me, change one thing that brought me to MY SON." or "I bet you don't question the values, morals, and decisions of every pregnant woman who walks in this office for having a biological child instead of adopting one of the 'plenty' of available US children. People make family choices based on tons of criteria that are, clearly, none of your business." or "I was the fourth and last option for Daniel. He doesn't have a life mom, life family or domestic family to take care of him. I am his mother because of that. I would not have him growing up in an orphanage just because he is from Vietnam. All children deserve a safe, loving home, and Daniel has one."

Instead, I quickly grabbed one child in each arm and walked out of the door.

What next?
Option 1
Letter to Dr. asking for my children's records so we can go to a pediatrician's office that is designed to show respect for all families and children.
Option 2
Pick up form and tell Lady that I heard her asking questions about our adoption and I would love to help her understand our decisions, if she feels like she needs to, in a private setting, away from my children.
Option 3
Move on.

What would you do?

A Little Girl

Please read the story of this family struggling to bring their 4-year-old daughter home from China. Please sign the petition created by JCICS here .

Please Support the Efforts of...

http://mothersinactionforvietnam.wordpress.com/

RAINBOW!

Thank You Big Jim

Us

Cowboy

Girls

We saw...

Good Moms, Thankful

Thank you moms for all the good advice about Daniel's sleeping. I am going to try...everything. Modified Ferber this weekend after soy milk, cheese etc., less spoiling, more loving him healthy. I guess Daniel, like Scotty, carries the burden of my lengthy longing for him. I tend to err on the side of over loving, kissing, protecting, and indulging. You all have given me something to work on.

Today is hot. In an effort to save my house and children from the certain destruction that was about to take place inside (too much time inside makes for wild boys), we tried to walk to the park. We wilted halfway down the street. Slowly we waddled through the heat waves back to our garage for a promised cleaning. I stopped to water the flowers, and Daniel took the hose. It wasn't long before he turned around and soaked Scotty. Shrieks of laughter, splashing, little giggles, puddle jumping, and mud digging soon had me seated on my driveway watching the scene and, as often happens lately, smiling a big almost tickled up smile without realizing it for a minute. I am thankful.

Sleep?

Daniel has been home for almost one year (hooray!), but he still will not sleep through the night. Help! Daniel goes to bed beautifully in his crib at 7:30. He sleeps until about 9 or 10 when he wakes up crying hysterically for the first time. He won't cry it out. I have tried that torture, and he just works himself to completely undone, and then he takes hours to go back to sleep. If I rock him and sing or talk to him, he will go back to sleep and sleep for another one to two hours. Then, I either take him in bed to cosleep or rock him again depending on what we are doing. In bed with me, he will fall immediately back to sleep for between 3 to 5 hours. Then he will wake again, usually frantic. The only thing that will calm him is milk: rocking, cooing, singing, holding etc. makes him scream more. After milk, he wants to lie across me, as if he is afraid I will leave if he doesn't hold me down. It is lovely to cuddle, but difficult to sleep.

He has slept though the night exactly 3 times since he became part of our family. I have tried a pack-n-play next to our bed, music, a fan, snacks before bedtime, lovie blankets. At first I thought it was just his earaches (he did have them often), but now he has tubes in his ears and has not had a ear infection since February.

Aside night sleeping, he is happy, funny, healthy. What gives? Any suggestions?

MiMi with all 8!

Fun

July 4th

To Fly Kites and Light Sparklers

Love

Frizz bee Sale

Afternoon Shadows

Sweet Cousin

Another Birthday Celebration

Summer Yeah

Getting So Big

Big 2!

MMMM

Pudgy Arms in the Strawberry Patch! So Sweet.

Welcome Spring

My Precious Child

Big Boy with a Friend!

T-ball

Big Snow!

Time Out

Time out has lost some of its sting since whenever Scott has to go, Daniel situates himself next to his brother on the stairs. Typically, hillarity ensues. Time out is fun! What would Super Nanny do? Rascals.