Two years

It was two years ago today that my dossier for my daughter in China was finally logged in.  I remember the anxiety of the whole process--my 1600A paperwork had been misplaced and it was taking them a while to process my file.  In some ways it was very similar to the wait for referral for my son and I guess waiting for my daughter prepared me for the grueling wait for his official referral. 

I remember the anxiety of each day checking the mailbox until one day  something came over me and instead of feeling defeated by the wait, I began to plan everything that needed to happen.  I still had to visit the state capitol for the oh-so-precious state notarizations and because I couldn't leave anything to chance I decided to make the trek to Chicago to have the Chinese consulate authenticate and stamp everything.  My friend Sherry was in on my plan and without 171H in hand we booked a hotel in Chicago and planned time off work. 

And like I felt it would happen, on January 24th it arrived.  Sherry and I took off at noon the next day and we shared an incredible little adventure that didn't end until Saturday evening when we drove down to my agency and personally delivered it on January 27th.  

On February 2nd my dossier was en route to China and on February 12th I officially lined up between 44, 532 other people (ok, that's just a number I made up, but it sounds about right).

Since my son has come home people have assumed that I dropped the quest for my daughter.  Nothing could be further from my mind.  She was the one that began all of this and if not for her I would not have EVER attempted to bring home Spud. 

She is still with me.  In my heart, in my mind, and especially in my dreams.  The dreams of her never ended and actually intensified after my referral for the Spud.   Before I traveled I dreamed that once I got to Vietnam they tried to give me a 12 year-old girl and at first I didn't want her.  I wanted my son!  I kept trying to find a family for her and the entire time I searched for someone for her I found myself falling even more inexplicably in love with her.  The last thing I remember is of the four of us--me on bottom, her, Spud and Siva the Cat all piled into a big recliner sleeping.

Yesterday morning another dream.  The more recent dreams have been different--older than I thought or with a special need (I am not on the waiting child list because I think I have my hands full for now).  This child, definitely one after my own heart for so many reasons, was still there.   

In the dream my China agency had sent me a little gift for Spud with a note attached:

We have a referral, and we think she would be best with you.  VSD repair with murmur.  Born July 29, 2006. China is willing to waive the 12 month wait period between children or they will keep her for you until you are ready.

I am sure the dream has something to do with with feeling the 2 year mark creeping up on me, but after two years of waiting it is good to still have those moments when I feel close to her.  Like she is still real even if she is only real to me.

Today I have to reflect on every thing that has occurred in the last two years.   While my son has been a part of my heart as long as my daughter has, I never imagined that things would work out like this.  As I write this I am looking down on his smiling face and marveling at it all again.  Every little thing, every precious little second was perfectly measured so that we would be a family.  It never ceases to amaze me that if I had waited one more day to make that decision, if CIS had been delayed by yet another day he wouldn't have been my son.  Same goes if things had gone sooner--I might have been matched to another child. 

So as I light a candle tonight and think of my daughter, I thank God that He put me on this path and that my daughter lead me right to my son.  I think he will be a wonderful big brother some day. 

Construction: Caution Ahead

I knew after I received my referral and that my Spud was not a Haven that I was going to have to re-tool the blog.  I had planned on pimping it before I left for Vietnam, but you all know how rushed things can get once you have travel plans in hand.  And since Spud is sharing his nursery with me (was and still is my office until my contractor/cousin builds me another unit in another room of my house) I rarely get much computer time.  He is a light sleeper and the tapping of the keys wakes him up.  Fortunately for me, I was too lazy to move his pack 'n play where he sleeps back into this room after Auntie Krissy and cousin Catherine's visit for the past few days.  Yay, for me! 

So I am staying up way past my bedtime to work on the lay out.  It's not done yet--I don't like the dotted background and I am going to work on the header some more, but ya'll may be stuck with it for a few days until I have the time to work on it again.  If you like it let me know, if you have specific suggestions, let me know those as well.  I'm not really sure beyond the poem what I really want in the header. 

Unsolicited

What does one do with unsolicited advice from well meaning parents (or non-parents—the even bigger paradox)? 

Last week I left a little blurb on Spud’s facebook page that he was yelling at me and wanted to go out and play and I asked for suggestions (for what to do).  I received a response from a woman that I know that has several children that said “let him cry it out now or you’ll be sorry later”.

I was horrified.  Part of me wanted to correct her, but I realized that would be counter-productive so I decided to just let it go.

Today I saw her at church and she asked if I had taken my advice and how it worked out.  I said, “I can’t do that”. 

“Sure you can.  You have to.  I did it with mine,” she responded.

“He’s adopted.  It’s contra-indicated,” I told her quietly.

She looked at me like I was smoking crack.  I re-iterated my position and told her that many orphanage raised children have been forced to “cry it out” since birth and as a result no longer rely on caregivers to care for them.

She thought about it and then told me a heart-breaking story of a friend of hers who had adopted twins from a Russian orphanage and that the children would literally cry tears without making a sound. 

People assume that because Spud is such an outgoing child and never gets upset that he has no ill effects from being in the orphanage.  While they did take very good care of him, as I shared with the woman today, I can see the effects of institutionalization.  Because this is a public blog and my son deserves some bit of privacy I will not divulge that information here, nor will I with casual acquaintances (like the woman this morning).

Yesterday I visited a favorite shop that I rarely go to.  They have pretty little things and native instruments that I thought Spud would enjoy playing with.  As the cashier was ringing up my purchase she asked me, “what is your daughter’s name?” 

I said, “HIS name is ….”. 

“Oh, I just assumed that you adopted a little China girl,” she quickly covered.  “I guess I should have known he was yours.”

Yes, he is mine.  And, no, I don’t think that was the question she was asking.  I never know whether to fake it and let people believe is my biological child or to correct (it’s a little gray for me since we have been so publicly identified as adoptive parent and adoptee).  I do want to educate people on adoption as I have previously state, but at what point am I over-exposing him to the comments and questions from strangers?   

Last week my mom mentioned that my aunt had called after seeing the Today Show.  Before she even had a chance to tell me what she said I told her, “if she ever says a bad word about my son or this adoption, so help me, that is war.  Not only will I verbally attack her until she cries, but she will be lucky if I don’t pop her one too.”  Evidently my sister said something along the same lines “she (our aunt) isn’t just taking on Erica if she says something, she is taking on the whole family.  She better watch it.”

As you may have guessed my aunt isn’t so nice.  I was verbally attacked by her repeatedly growing up and I am sorry to say, I don’t recall anyone ever defending me from her assaults.  I don’t know what it is about me, other than the fact that I probably resemble and have the mannerisms of my mother, that provoked her wrath.  The most hurtful attack was, wait for it…about my skin color.  Can you believe that?  Evidently I am “too white” for our family and was accused of coloring down.  Hellooo????  My g’ma is translucent…of course I’m friggin’ white. 

Fortunately she didn’t have anything good or bad to say, but she wants to have a family reunion.  Can I get a “hell to the no” in here. 

Most people comment that I am calm, like really calm, especially when things get nuts.  While I have always defended my family, my sister especially when we were kids, being a mother has awakened a very protective, very angry mama bear.

My son is adopted.  He is also kind and funny and incredibly smart with a great sense of personality.  He has the most beautiful smile and a giggle that melts my heart every time I hear it.  This is my son.  And I love him from the tips of my hair to the bottom of my toes.    

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I received a surprising call this evening from Becky at 6:20 PM reporting that our story was being re-run in a different format.  When I asked why I was told NBC was hoping to reach a different population than the Today Show because they received such  positive feedback from the first show.

Months and months ago I mentioned to Becky how much I wanted to encourage others to adopt and to help other families through the process.  Financially I can not help at this time (I haven’t had a paycheck since December—yikes!), but what I can do is educate every person that has an interest.

Last week I opened a facebook account for my son.  Since then I have received a number of questions from others about the process, how did I do it as a single, and other more specific questions pertaining to adoption.  It is a small thing, but I am so happy to help others who were in the same boat as I was.  As a single person, adoption can be overwhelming.  It’s not just jumping through the hoops.  It’s the waiting, the unknown, and not always having a strong support system knowledgeable about adoption.  People that haven’t adopted, haven’t waited and wondered if it would ever happen or worked against an impossible deadline can never understand what it is like.  For singles I think it is doubly difficult (not that it isn’t hard for couples) because we don’t have that partner that can share the emotional burden. 

I am glad that the original show touched people and I do hope more people will look into adoption.  So many children need families and until I met my son I had NO idea how incredible being a parent could be. 

Dinner with my man

I finally got the video loaded and it is of my son after dinner.  Remember my toxic dump story from a couple of posts a go?  Yeah, just keep that in mind. 

Yeah, is it any wonder why I walk around smiling like a goof ball everyday?  His giggle makes me giggle. 

A Spud for your thoughts…

I have to admit, my mother was right.  It’s not often concede defeat to my mother’s wisdom, but in this case she saw it coming long before I did.  I wish I could be a stay at home mom. 

It would be so easy…except for the loss of a paycheck every couple of weeks.  I so enjoy being home with my son.  The things that I didn’t think I would enjoy about motherhood have actually become my favorite parts of motherhood.  I love to sit him in the high chair and feed him.  With every other child  I have ever cared for it seemed tedious—the food prep, trying to get them to eat, trying to clean them up afterwards.  What a mess.  But as I have said so many other times—he makes this all look very easy.  The Spud with eat anything and I enjoy making him my own version of congee.  I don’t have to play games in order to get him to eat, but I do like to do a little zoom-zoom with the spoon on occasion because there is nothing cuter than a baby smiling and giggling with green peas dripping out of his mouth.  He even likes it when I clean his face—thinks it’s a game.  Silly boy.

Bath time is actually my favorite and if it weren’t for the fact that his skin was so dry I would try to wash him a lot more frequently.  As soon as he figures out it’s time for a bath he gets so excited.  Today he tried to climb into the tub fully dressed.  I finally laid him down and got his sleeper and onesie off, but I had a hard time wrangling the diaper off of him.  He banged his head against his door frame in his glee over bath time.  He likes to slap the water and watch me duck for cover. 

Lest you think that every moment is magical—not all are.  He’s still not a big fan of taking an afternoon nap, even if he is a constant state of eye rubbing.  As a result he is cranky and clingy, but he will not give in!  When times get tough I have often raised my fist in the air and said loudly even to be heard “I will not be defeated!”  Evidently he feels the same way about naps, and I can applaud his stubbornness.   Lately, though, he has fallen asleep while I gave him a bottle and rocked.  Ahhh, that is by far the best feeling in my world!  He doesn’t do it at night—just for his morning nap.  I am so going to miss that when I go back to work!

I still have a few weeks before I return to the work force.  I don’t want to go.  I want to stay home and watch my son grow.  I want to make lots of food and spend my evenings writing.  I find myself wishing there was someone here to take photos of us together.  I need someone to record these moments because I don’t trust my mind to remember the way he looks.  I have trouble imagining what he looked like two months ago, let alone what he will look like in a few years.  I love the look on his face when he finishes a bottle—it is pure happiness with a hint of mischief.  I love that he holds my face while I give him his bottle and runs his fingers through my hair.  I love the look he gives me in the morning when I pop into his room to check on him (yes, the boy is awake before I am nearly every day). 

Thank goodness his arm blocks, uh, some of his essentials. 

I will try to include some video with my next post.

When is enough, enough?

I am going to break away from the usual love-fest that my blogs have become since my son has arrived and look at something that has me shaking my head, wincing, and wondering where it all went wrong.

Last week Nadya Suleman gave birth to 8 surprisingly healthy babies.  I say surprisingly because it is a miracle all of them survived the pregnancy, but there is no way that they will leave the hospital without some sort of impairment as a result of being so premature.  Many multiples suffer from CP, blindness, respiratory problems, etc.  as a result of competing for adequate nutrition and oxygenation in the womb and being delivered early.  It is very taxing to provide the necessary care for these children and I imagine that the first couple of years are the most difficult.

It is being reported that Nadya is angling to sell her story for $2 million and wants diaper sponsorship and wants to start a career as a TV child care expert.  While I would normally be very hesitant to comment on any person’s choice to build a family, I feel her doctors should be held responsible in making some incredibly poor decisions.  I am a single mom and I love my son, but he keeps me very busy.  Nadya is a single, unemployed mom to 14 children under the age of 7, living in a 3 bedroom house with her parents (her mother has publicly come out and said her daughter is crazy and she is moving out). 

Who is going to be taking care of these children?  The better question is, who is going to be paying for these children?  Currently the state of California is paying for the care of her previous 6 children.  Since this story has come out the media love has cooled for Nadya.  If she can’t secure some sort of TV sponsorship and sell her story, will California pick up the  exorbitant cost of these special needs kids?  Personally, I think the physicians should have some fiscal responsibility. 

Obviously it sounds like Nadya has a few screws loose.  The real icing on the cake is that she is in school right now studying to be a mental health counselor.  No offense to my mother and others in her profession, but I think even they are aware that those that need the most help are often drawn to counseling.  Usually schools are pretty good about recognizing these people and weeding them out.

However, I could be wrong.  Perhaps Nadya will make a wonderful mother who will be able to bump Jon & Kate + 8 off TLC.  Maybe she will receive enough endorsements to care for her children adequately and will be able to hire the necessary help to raise these kids.  Maybe Ty Pennington and his building crew will build her a 15 bedroom home so they have room to grow.  Maybe one of the schools there will waive tuition so her children can go to college some day.  Maybe everything will work out and she will prove us all wrong.  I certainly hope so for everyone’s sake.

Either way, I know one thing for sure.  If Jon & Kate + 8 gives me nightmares, there is NO way I will ever watch Nadya + 14.