All of my kids are killing me right now. Charlie - yes, we've officially named our newest son - is just too dang far away, and I can't even begin to adequately describe the crazy emotions with waiting for him.
The biggest thing right now is reminding myself to trust. I am so thankful for the caretakers in his life. The Sisters, orphanage volunteers, and our POA love him, and they have seen him through his life so far. So far, I have done nothing for him, and he is (I am told) happy and healthy. I remind myself always to trust them, and their concern for his well-being. It is they who have cared for him in his first 6 months of life, and they are eager to get him into a forever family. I cannot wait to meet them and thank them in person.
Simon and Talya kill me too, but mostly in ways that make me alterately crazy-frustrated or all-out-giggly. I'm posting a video of them "Preaching." If you're not interested in spending precious minutes of your life watching my kids, please skip it. I think it's funny though. I'm not sure where Sy gets his material - if you listen carefully to his sermon, he talks a lot about Jesus being Champion (as well as the pizza guy I think). He also has taken on the style of a bossy worship leader that is always ordering you to raise your hands or else.
Taly just wants to keep up with her big brother, and can only do so by trying to match him in volume.
Thanks again to all of you who weighed in with resources on adoptive breastfeeding. I have spent a lot of time on the phone with our hospital's lactaction consultant, and am starting a protocol that should help. We'll see. If not, no big deal - formula's certainly never hurt anyone. (But it does cost a pretty penny.)
Monday, December 7, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Lots to do...
Ok, mamas, I'm overwhelmed and I need help.
Thinking about trying to nurse the new baby. He looks no more than 6 months in his picture, so I'd like to give him the good stuff, for both health and bonding reasons. Know anyone who's done this before? Any advice?
He's a peanut, so I'm going to bust out the sling I used with Taly. I'm also thinking of using a wrap carrier - I know you have advice. Please tell me - I don't want to spend an arm and a leg, but I definitely want something that will promote bonding, will grow with him, and won't take up room in my suitcase.
I have officially resigned myself to the fact that I have a large kitchen table, surrounded by booster seats and step stools.... my minivan will get the addition of ANOTHER car seat.... I'm not sure when I'll be leaving the house again...
I'm craigslisting for bunk beds and a crib.
I hung his stocking up next to Sy and Taly's, and will soon dig out Sy's baby clothes and try to guess how big my boy is.
What else do I need to do?
Thinking about trying to nurse the new baby. He looks no more than 6 months in his picture, so I'd like to give him the good stuff, for both health and bonding reasons. Know anyone who's done this before? Any advice?
He's a peanut, so I'm going to bust out the sling I used with Taly. I'm also thinking of using a wrap carrier - I know you have advice. Please tell me - I don't want to spend an arm and a leg, but I definitely want something that will promote bonding, will grow with him, and won't take up room in my suitcase.
I have officially resigned myself to the fact that I have a large kitchen table, surrounded by booster seats and step stools.... my minivan will get the addition of ANOTHER car seat.... I'm not sure when I'll be leaving the house again...
I'm craigslisting for bunk beds and a crib.
I hung his stocking up next to Sy and Taly's, and will soon dig out Sy's baby clothes and try to guess how big my boy is.
What else do I need to do?
Monday, November 30, 2009
And.......the Ultrasound!
I had my first "ultrasound" today. Since I'm only paper pregnant, I only got a "paper ultrasound." Or whatever - maybe my all-too-clever analogies are breaking down.
What I mean to say is that we got our referral today - we got matched with a baby that will be ours! He is beautiful, just the cutest thing ever. I wish I could show you all and brag on and on about my son-to-be, but he's not legally ours yet, so you just have to use your imagination.
The shocker is that he is an infant. He appears to be about 6 months old, although I'm not sure when the photo was taken. We requested an infant, but held that request very open-handedly, because there are no guarantees, and in the big picture, it doesn't really matter all that much anyways.
But, he's tiny, and adorable, and everything I'd hoped for... okay, that's putting a bit to much pressure on the poor kid. I'm sure he's got his quirks, like maybe he won't poop in the potty til he's 4 or maybe he'll be a biter. Whatever his quirks are, I am so excited to learn them, and then begin the process of staying sane in the midst of all of them, just like I'm doing with my first two kids.
So... what's next? We need to wait for our court date. Once we get that, we can start making travel plans. We're hoping for January.
What I mean to say is that we got our referral today - we got matched with a baby that will be ours! He is beautiful, just the cutest thing ever. I wish I could show you all and brag on and on about my son-to-be, but he's not legally ours yet, so you just have to use your imagination.
The shocker is that he is an infant. He appears to be about 6 months old, although I'm not sure when the photo was taken. We requested an infant, but held that request very open-handedly, because there are no guarantees, and in the big picture, it doesn't really matter all that much anyways.
But, he's tiny, and adorable, and everything I'd hoped for... okay, that's putting a bit to much pressure on the poor kid. I'm sure he's got his quirks, like maybe he won't poop in the potty til he's 4 or maybe he'll be a biter. Whatever his quirks are, I am so excited to learn them, and then begin the process of staying sane in the midst of all of them, just like I'm doing with my first two kids.
So... what's next? We need to wait for our court date. Once we get that, we can start making travel plans. We're hoping for January.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
My Paper Pregnancy: Hearing the Heartbeat
So, you know when you first find out that you're pregnant? In case you don't know or don't remember, let me remind you.
Whether or not you were planning/hoping for the pregnancy, your mind plays tricks with you for weeks. You're "late," but couldn't that be stress? Or the fact that you drank too much Diet Coke this month? You start to feel nauseous... or is it gassy? Do your boobs hurt or is it just your imagination? You debate taking a pregnancy test, but since you're pretty sure it's all in your head, you decide to wait. Those things cost like ten bucks, so you don't use them lightly.
Finally, you pee on the stick.
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, those are two blue lines!!!!! Wait, is it supposed to be two blue lines or 1 purple line? Or a plus sign? You quick grab the directions, realize they don't make sense and make your husband go buy the digital test. And, finally, finally, there it is in black and gray: PREGNANT.
You freak out, call your mom, name the baby, swear off Diet Coke (okay just one more), take 4 pre-natal vitamins to counteract the Diet Coke, and decide, yes you are nauseous and you should probably just go to bed and take it easy for at least 3 months.
You begin telling people the good news and are surprised how many people respond with, "So did the doctor confirm it?" You try to explain to these insensitive, uninformed, well-meaning people that all the doctor is going to do is tell you to pee on the stick, but then you start to wonder...
Maybe it was gas, and stress, and Diet Coke overload turned to withdrawal. Maybe you're not pregnant. The screens on those digital tests kind are, like, super-tiny, and no bloated, stressed-out, hormonal, possibly pregnant person could possibly be expected to read it.
So, you call the doctor. She says, "Well, did you pee on the stick?" Yes, you're pretty sure that it was positive. "Okay," she says, "I'll see you in 4 weeks."
So, that's that. You're pregnant. You are pretty sure you're pregnant. The constant feeling of wanting to puke is beginning to take over - you ARE pregnant.
But, then, it's 4 weeks later. Four weeks of pukey-ness and saltines, and awkward conversations with people about how you found out you were pregnant. You go to the doctor and she gets out the doppler thing, and just when you begin to wonder how in the world doppler can predict the weather and record a heartbeat, you hear it - the sound of galloping horses amidst an ocean of woosh-woosh-wooshing.
You giggle and cry, because that is the moment that the pregnancy is more than a bundle of nerves and hormones. Hearing the heartbeat reminds you that there is an actual BABY! You can't see the baby, you nothing about it, but you know it's there!
Okay, so remember that?
That's what it's like to get your APPROVAL in your paper pregnancy. You wait and wait, going back and forth between believing a baby is coming and feeling pretty darn sure it's all going to fall through, and then you get ONE EMAIL that reads like a galloping, wooshing, beating heart.
And you realize - Oh My Gosh, a baby is coming!
I cannot wait for the "ultrasound," when I see his picture for the first time.
So, in all of that, in case I wasn't clear - WE GOT OUR APPROVAL TODAY!
I hope your Thanksgiving was just as full with reasons to give thanks!
Whether or not you were planning/hoping for the pregnancy, your mind plays tricks with you for weeks. You're "late," but couldn't that be stress? Or the fact that you drank too much Diet Coke this month? You start to feel nauseous... or is it gassy? Do your boobs hurt or is it just your imagination? You debate taking a pregnancy test, but since you're pretty sure it's all in your head, you decide to wait. Those things cost like ten bucks, so you don't use them lightly.
Finally, you pee on the stick.
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, those are two blue lines!!!!! Wait, is it supposed to be two blue lines or 1 purple line? Or a plus sign? You quick grab the directions, realize they don't make sense and make your husband go buy the digital test. And, finally, finally, there it is in black and gray: PREGNANT.
You freak out, call your mom, name the baby, swear off Diet Coke (okay just one more), take 4 pre-natal vitamins to counteract the Diet Coke, and decide, yes you are nauseous and you should probably just go to bed and take it easy for at least 3 months.
You begin telling people the good news and are surprised how many people respond with, "So did the doctor confirm it?" You try to explain to these insensitive, uninformed, well-meaning people that all the doctor is going to do is tell you to pee on the stick, but then you start to wonder...
Maybe it was gas, and stress, and Diet Coke overload turned to withdrawal. Maybe you're not pregnant. The screens on those digital tests kind are, like, super-tiny, and no bloated, stressed-out, hormonal, possibly pregnant person could possibly be expected to read it.
So, you call the doctor. She says, "Well, did you pee on the stick?" Yes, you're pretty sure that it was positive. "Okay," she says, "I'll see you in 4 weeks."
So, that's that. You're pregnant. You are pretty sure you're pregnant. The constant feeling of wanting to puke is beginning to take over - you ARE pregnant.
But, then, it's 4 weeks later. Four weeks of pukey-ness and saltines, and awkward conversations with people about how you found out you were pregnant. You go to the doctor and she gets out the doppler thing, and just when you begin to wonder how in the world doppler can predict the weather and record a heartbeat, you hear it - the sound of galloping horses amidst an ocean of woosh-woosh-wooshing.
You giggle and cry, because that is the moment that the pregnancy is more than a bundle of nerves and hormones. Hearing the heartbeat reminds you that there is an actual BABY! You can't see the baby, you nothing about it, but you know it's there!
Okay, so remember that?
That's what it's like to get your APPROVAL in your paper pregnancy. You wait and wait, going back and forth between believing a baby is coming and feeling pretty darn sure it's all going to fall through, and then you get ONE EMAIL that reads like a galloping, wooshing, beating heart.
And you realize - Oh My Gosh, a baby is coming!
I cannot wait for the "ultrasound," when I see his picture for the first time.
So, in all of that, in case I wasn't clear - WE GOT OUR APPROVAL TODAY!
I hope your Thanksgiving was just as full with reasons to give thanks!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
A Very Indian Thanksgiving, and the many thoughts surrounding it
Thanksgiving cracks me up. The myriad of "official" stories of that first celebratory harvest meal between what would soon be warring peoples. The way that it is so "American" and we all join in and are granted vacation time and eat too much, and then go the gym as if we're going to counteract the calorie count of 4 pies. The cliche of the Pilgrims and the "Indians" is especially funny to me, as my first Thanksgiving with real Indians involved a masala turkey prepped by Ben's uncle.
I cried a lot that year. I was engaged to marry Ben, and this was the first real holiday I was celebrating with his family instead of mine, and the it all seemed monumental, final, and foreign. What was lost on me was the spirit of the first meal between "Indian" and white man - coming together in differences (well, in that case, before we steal your land in the name of freedom and a pioneering spirit).
To be honest, I cry sometimes still. It's been 10 years since I've been in this family - a rich, wonderful 10 years of multi-cultural living. It's beautiful and interesting. But, it's hard. It's hard to understand things that you aren't born understanding. And, so much of what we know, we were somehow born knowing. It's in our blood, our genes, our origins, and it shapes everything.
But, this is of course, what makes it worth being thankful for - the things that are not easy. The things we can reflect back on, and say like the writer of my favorite old hymn, "Here I raise mine Ebenezer; hither by thy help I'm come..."*
A Very Indian Thanksgiving has its very entertaining moments. Here are a few from this year:
Simon's pre-school teacher loves the Thanksgiving feast where the Penguins and the Bumblebees come together to eat food that the mamas prepare (or in my case, shamelessly bring in the Trader Joe's packaging). The little Bumblebees are the Pilgrims, and the Penguins (Simon's class) are the "Indians." I was shocked to hear that they still call them Indians - mostly, because that's an inaccuracy white people made centuries ago that you'd think we would have corrected by now.
Anyway, in a pre-schoolyear meeting, I helpfully pointed out that my son is an *actual* Indian who we're trying to help have a healthy understanding of his race and culture, and it might be confusing to tell him that Indians lived in America, wore feathers, and had names like Running Bull.
While I'm sure she found my advice very useful, the Indian festivities continued. I learned that all the kids were given Indian names (I'm pretty sure my son received his four years ago), and when I may have made an issue out of this, I learned that Simon was the Chief Indian. Being the proud mother that I am, I basked in his superiority and decided not to make an issue out of things. Maybe next year.
Now, we're in New York. Last night, we went to church with Ben's parents. They go to a small Indian church that is attended largely by our cousins. Ben is always asked to preach, leaving me sitting alone on the men's side with two crazy kids who are up two hours past their bedtime. Talya was literally rolling around in the center aisle (that red carpeting just looked too fun for her to pass up) while her Daddy preached on Thankfulness, and it just seemed so anti-sentimal for me to cause a temper tantrum at that very moment.
It is a strange and wonderful thing gathering with the real Indians as we celebrate the first meal with the mistaken Indians. It is strange and wonderful because these people are immigrants to this rich country, strangers in the land, just as the pilgrims were. (These immigrants are more gracious, less give me your land or else).
It is strange and wonderful to celebrate with people who are thankful for the kinds of things the original party-goers were thankful for: God's protection in a strange place, opportunity, going through the hard times to give your kids the good times.
During the pastor's opening remarks, he couldn't remember what year the Pilgrims first came to America. There was a short back-and-forth between him and the congregants.... 1776? No, that was independence. 1492? No, that was Columbus. I laughed because of course they wouldn't know - this is not the kind of thing taught in schools in India. I laughed because I didn't know the answer, and I had a relative or two on the Mayflower.
After churh, we ate a catered turkey dinner in the too-warm basement of the church. To be honest, I was hot, hungry, tired, stressed from keeping Taly away from the platters of hot food, hurried to get to the city to see the Macy's balloons... but thankful. So, so thankful.
*real English translation is supposedly something like this: "Today I commemorate how far You have brought me."
I cried a lot that year. I was engaged to marry Ben, and this was the first real holiday I was celebrating with his family instead of mine, and the it all seemed monumental, final, and foreign. What was lost on me was the spirit of the first meal between "Indian" and white man - coming together in differences (well, in that case, before we steal your land in the name of freedom and a pioneering spirit).
To be honest, I cry sometimes still. It's been 10 years since I've been in this family - a rich, wonderful 10 years of multi-cultural living. It's beautiful and interesting. But, it's hard. It's hard to understand things that you aren't born understanding. And, so much of what we know, we were somehow born knowing. It's in our blood, our genes, our origins, and it shapes everything.
But, this is of course, what makes it worth being thankful for - the things that are not easy. The things we can reflect back on, and say like the writer of my favorite old hymn, "Here I raise mine Ebenezer; hither by thy help I'm come..."*
A Very Indian Thanksgiving has its very entertaining moments. Here are a few from this year:
Simon's pre-school teacher loves the Thanksgiving feast where the Penguins and the Bumblebees come together to eat food that the mamas prepare (or in my case, shamelessly bring in the Trader Joe's packaging). The little Bumblebees are the Pilgrims, and the Penguins (Simon's class) are the "Indians." I was shocked to hear that they still call them Indians - mostly, because that's an inaccuracy white people made centuries ago that you'd think we would have corrected by now.
Anyway, in a pre-schoolyear meeting, I helpfully pointed out that my son is an *actual* Indian who we're trying to help have a healthy understanding of his race and culture, and it might be confusing to tell him that Indians lived in America, wore feathers, and had names like Running Bull.
While I'm sure she found my advice very useful, the Indian festivities continued. I learned that all the kids were given Indian names (I'm pretty sure my son received his four years ago), and when I may have made an issue out of this, I learned that Simon was the Chief Indian. Being the proud mother that I am, I basked in his superiority and decided not to make an issue out of things. Maybe next year.
Now, we're in New York. Last night, we went to church with Ben's parents. They go to a small Indian church that is attended largely by our cousins. Ben is always asked to preach, leaving me sitting alone on the men's side with two crazy kids who are up two hours past their bedtime. Talya was literally rolling around in the center aisle (that red carpeting just looked too fun for her to pass up) while her Daddy preached on Thankfulness, and it just seemed so anti-sentimal for me to cause a temper tantrum at that very moment.
It is a strange and wonderful thing gathering with the real Indians as we celebrate the first meal with the mistaken Indians. It is strange and wonderful because these people are immigrants to this rich country, strangers in the land, just as the pilgrims were. (These immigrants are more gracious, less give me your land or else).
It is strange and wonderful to celebrate with people who are thankful for the kinds of things the original party-goers were thankful for: God's protection in a strange place, opportunity, going through the hard times to give your kids the good times.
During the pastor's opening remarks, he couldn't remember what year the Pilgrims first came to America. There was a short back-and-forth between him and the congregants.... 1776? No, that was independence. 1492? No, that was Columbus. I laughed because of course they wouldn't know - this is not the kind of thing taught in schools in India. I laughed because I didn't know the answer, and I had a relative or two on the Mayflower.
After churh, we ate a catered turkey dinner in the too-warm basement of the church. To be honest, I was hot, hungry, tired, stressed from keeping Taly away from the platters of hot food, hurried to get to the city to see the Macy's balloons... but thankful. So, so thankful.
*real English translation is supposedly something like this: "Today I commemorate how far You have brought me."
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Here's Hoping
I am REALLY hoping to get some adoption news this week. I am hoping that when I sit at the Thanksgiving table and someone asks me what I'm thankful for I can say, "For Our Approval!"
Maybe I will be able to, maybe not. But since I believe in the whole "Give thanks in ALL things" thing, here's what I am thankful for in the midst of the oh-so-difficult time of waiting.
This has nothing to do with adoption, but today is the 10-year anniversary of my first date with Ben. I'm thankful he remembered even though I didn't, and that he's still glad he asked me out - even though my brother told him not to.
Maybe I will be able to, maybe not. But since I believe in the whole "Give thanks in ALL things" thing, here's what I am thankful for in the midst of the oh-so-difficult time of waiting.
I'm thankful that my waiting, my obsessive email checking, my overuse of the phrase "hopefully soon," is because there are people whose job it is to protect the children of Rwanda. This job is important, and they do it well, and it involves so much more than writing my approval letter. So, I wait while they work, and I'm thankful for their work.Ooooh, AND..
I'm thankful that every day I long for good news, for a bit of information, for a picture of my child, is a day that love grows in my heart for a child I've never met before. These days are important, because love takes time, and the foundation for it is being laid right now.
I'm thankful for a real-time conversation with my friend Adrianne, who is full of wisdom. I'm thankful for her pespective, for the way her heart breaks at suffering, and that she talks just like me, but with a cute semi-southern thing. (She's hoping to get news about her baby soon too.)
This has nothing to do with adoption, but today is the 10-year anniversary of my first date with Ben. I'm thankful he remembered even though I didn't, and that he's still glad he asked me out - even though my brother told him not to.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Craft Night
One of my best friends called me this week and asked if we could have a "craft night." She said she wanted to do some "crafts" for friends and help me with my projects.
Ben was out of town and I was craving the sound of adult voices, laughter, something to look forward to.
Three of us sat on the couch while all of the sewing supplies, scraps of fabric, mod podge, scissors, and large hunks of foam sat in another room.
We had to inform her (while she was eating her fast food dinner) that corn has no nutritional value and wheat bread isn't really that good for you unless it tastes like cardboard. I think she was pretty sad.
Then, I got out a tub of my son's animal crackers and we used them to scoop chocolate icing straight into our mouths. They didn't judge me when I finished the whole container almost without any help.
While the crafts sat in the other room, we talked about the important things in life. How boys are so stupid (except for Ben), and what Ben and I fight about and how even when we're fighting I still know I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
We talked about how it's kind of annoying when people say things like "God's timing is perfect," because while that may be true the world is a broken place full of wickedness and sometimes God's perfect timing seems to refer more to when we're dead than the here and now.
After discussing all the reasons why boys are dumb and google-stalking a few of them, we debated the pros and cons of sending a random guy an email out of the blue. We got all philosophical and spiritual about whether or not it's good, and then we convinced her to do it.
Because, what good is craft night if you can't drink too much Diet Pomegranate 7-up (with antioxidants) and convince your friend to email random guys, because what the heck?
I love friends and the way they make everything so, so fun. I love the way they hear your thoughts that don't sound right coming out, but they know how not to "take it the wrong way." I love that sometimes we make each other slightly dumber and goofier, but mostly we make each other infinitely wiser.
Ben was out of town and I was craving the sound of adult voices, laughter, something to look forward to.
Three of us sat on the couch while all of the sewing supplies, scraps of fabric, mod podge, scissors, and large hunks of foam sat in another room.
We had to inform her (while she was eating her fast food dinner) that corn has no nutritional value and wheat bread isn't really that good for you unless it tastes like cardboard. I think she was pretty sad.
Then, I got out a tub of my son's animal crackers and we used them to scoop chocolate icing straight into our mouths. They didn't judge me when I finished the whole container almost without any help.
While the crafts sat in the other room, we talked about the important things in life. How boys are so stupid (except for Ben), and what Ben and I fight about and how even when we're fighting I still know I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
We talked about how it's kind of annoying when people say things like "God's timing is perfect," because while that may be true the world is a broken place full of wickedness and sometimes God's perfect timing seems to refer more to when we're dead than the here and now.
After discussing all the reasons why boys are dumb and google-stalking a few of them, we debated the pros and cons of sending a random guy an email out of the blue. We got all philosophical and spiritual about whether or not it's good, and then we convinced her to do it.
Because, what good is craft night if you can't drink too much Diet Pomegranate 7-up (with antioxidants) and convince your friend to email random guys, because what the heck?
I love friends and the way they make everything so, so fun. I love the way they hear your thoughts that don't sound right coming out, but they know how not to "take it the wrong way." I love that sometimes we make each other slightly dumber and goofier, but mostly we make each other infinitely wiser.
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