The Bitter in Bittersweet

Now for the bitter . . .  "The Goose."  We are just a few days shy of our one year anniversary of our referral for little baby N.  He turned one a month ago and has now spent all but 10 days of his little life, laying in one room, in one crib and in the arms of multiple caregivers.  He has nobody to call "mommy."  He has nobody to call him "son."  He has nobody of his very own.  The stories from the region where he lives are, as someone else with a child stuck there put it this week, "incomprehensible."  What the people in charge of these precious little lives are doing is so unjust and so incomprehensible that even if I tried to share some of the personal stories, it would just sound trite.  There is no other word for all of the families and children in our situation, other than heart breaking and even those words don't hold a candle to the real emotions behind it all.  

Every day I wonder what we would do if N cleared???  If that did happen, I would be calling young and old, short and tall, those of all faiths and asking for prayer.  I would need an angel to come down from the heavens (with a large check in hand, no less) and tell us that we should and are capable of bringing N home.  I kinda feel like Maci is doing so amazingly well, yet I still feel like bomb has gone off in our house and many days, it still feels like survival is the name of the game.  I'm just not sure we, as a family, could make it through another toss up, without some time to gather our feet underneath us.

I have found it easy to tell people that I'm just not sure we could move forward with Goosey at this point, but if I even give myself over 60 seconds to think about it, or if I try to take any pictures down, the tears pour out.  Big-Huge-Ethiopian tears (those kids have some serious tear ducts, btw).  We have decided to do a couple things, though.  We decided to keep our homestudy updated, but at the same time, we have decided to live our lives as if our family is complete.  We've spent the last two years, scrimping, saving, holding back, not taking trips, saving vacation time, and basically putting our lives on hold. . . . in preparation for a child and now it is time to start letting the line out a little and enjoy moving forward from here.

One of the many difficult parts of the whole Goose business, is wondering where God is, in his story.  I mean, if our story just started with Maci, then we would be sitting in our house, saying things like, "The wait was hard, but God is good," and "she is so amazing and God knew that she belongs in our family."  It would be easy to give God the glory and other Christian phrases like that.  BUT - that is not where our story began.  It began with Goosey and he hasn't moved an inch since we first saw his picture and there isn't much promise that he will move anywhere in the future.  It is hard to say, "God is good," under these circumstances.  It is hard to believe anything about God under these circumstances.  Even if I feel like our family is complete, what about Goose?  He has no family.  What will happen to him?  The last family that went over a couple months ago, still said that he doesn't use his legs.  If he had come home when he should have, he would most likely be a thriving little one year old right now, but his chances at a "normal" life seem to be diminishing.  So, is God good?  What it came down to for me, was, "did he die and come back to life or not?"  It's the crux of the Christian faith.  If I believe that is true, then I believe the rest is true.  If I don't believe that He rose again, then I don't believe the rest.  It's all or nothing and I just can't help it . . . I believe that Jesus died and rose again and that He is who He says He is.

I have stopped trying to figure out why our story went as it has or why there ever had to be a "Goose" if we were supposed to get Maci this whole time?  I doubt that any of it will ever make sense to me, this side of heaven, but what I know is that we will continue to treasure the responsibility to pray for Goosey and we will ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS love the little guy.

The Sweet in Bittersweet

It is a bittersweet Mother's Day.  Mostly sweet, so let's start there.  We went to Pagosa Springs to see Dave's mom and extended family for Mother's Day.  It was our first attempt at a family trip and I am officially announcing it as a victory.  It was filled with fishing, paddle boating, the Malt Shoppe, family meals, and a birthday party and not one of those events was cut short by a poorly timed temper tantrum.  Maci just seemed to know that family was surrounding her.  Therefore, it didn't take the typical hour to warm up to all the new people she met.  Of course, at our family dinner, it also helped to have a 9 week old puppy (not ours, of course) to break in the squeals of laughter.

I wasn't sure how this weekend was going to go, but I was certainly ready to get out of this house for better or for worse.  "They" say that when you adopt, your family should cocoon and stay close to home as much as possible for the first few months.  My intent was to do that.  As it turns out, if I actually did that, I think I would find myself cocooning alone at someplace with a name like "Whispering Pines Home for the Not So Stable."  As much as I love our house and neighborhood, I shudder at the thought of staying home with my 3 young kids for days at a time.  It is within these very walls, after all, that most meltdowns occur.  For that, I am thankful.  It is better for them to melt down here, then in the grocery line or on the front steps of the Department of Human Services, but I needed to catch my breath somewhere else this weekend, after what was a pretty ugly week.

There is one area where my kids are very fair and where they are really good at sharing.  They are very thoughtful about sharing tantrum time.  Isn't that sweet?  Maci likes to scream loud and often, but she keeps it short, which we appreciate.  Leah spaces hers out a little more, but she has the extenda-cry down pat and Spencer is a real saver.  He goes a couple of weeks, but then he lays a big one down, which he did this week. I still feel like I am recovering from that one.  That being said and bring it back around to the sweet part of Mother's Day.  All three kids did just play together for 45 minutes without one cause for parental intervention.  That was a present of great proportion and the sweetest gift of all.  (Although Dave's present was pretty awesome.  If you stop by, you'll have to ask to see the cookbook the was made personally for me).  Well, now that I just wrote about the sweetness of the day, I don't really want to talk about the bitter just yet, so I think I'll save the bitter (Goosey) for tomorrow.

For now, thank you MOM for believing in this journey.  Thank you for accepting Maci as your grandchild. Thank you for walking with me in all of the craziness of adoption and for reminding me of how great God's love is for not only our kids, but for me as well.  

Cuttin' a Rug

When I was in high school (and college and my single years) if there was an award for "Miss Goody Two Shoes," I think I would have definitely been in the running. That's why when Donny DeBruno, who had a good handle on our high school party scene, yelled out from across the parking lot, "You cuttin' a rug this weekend?" I replied a sarcastic, "Yeah . . . . . right . . . . !" First of all, why was Donny DeBruno talking to me? Second of all, I had no idea what "cutting a rug" was, so I just assumed it was something bad, if the cool kids were using that phrase . . . hence my answer. All that to say, for those of you still in your Goody Two Shoes Phase, "cutting a rug," simply means . . . dancing. We are doing a bit of a dance around here and I hesitate to say, that it is going decently well.  Actually, we have a lot of dances going on around here.

My all time favorite dancing is swing dancing.  One reason I like it so much, is that it has actual moves that you can learn. Even if you lack certain dance talent, you can learn how to execute the moves at the right time and you may appear to be able to somewhat dance.  The part of our life that feels more like a swing dance, is that we have a little bit more of a schedule back in our lives.  Or maybe I should just call it what it is - we have a nap time again, which has added some real sanity back into my life.  It wasn't easy, but this is a move that makes our family look like we kind of know what we are doing.   The first trial of nap time, came with screaming, pinching, etc. . . for about 30 minutes, but you wouldn't even believe what it looked like today!  She crawled in my lap, while I was sitting in the rocking chair, we played a little, and then she wrapped her arms around my waist, laid her head on my chest and quickly fell asleep.  (Insert tear).  It was precious.

We are also doing a little bit of regular club type dancing.  At my college, a dance was called a "function," because Baptists don't dance, you know?  I definitely feel like I am at "a function."  I feel a little uncertain of how I look on the dance floor of child raising, without specific dance steps to follow.  All of my kids feel very delicate right now and there is no question that they are.  They are all experiencing some sort of trauma, but we are working on giving them all a voice and making sure they feel connected.  If that sounds like it is straight out of a Karyn Purvis book on adoption, it probably is.  I know you are not supposed to leave the side of your child for like 2 years, but come hell or high water, I was not going to miss her conference in Denver this weekend.  So, Dave and I split up the sessions and it was certainly worth it.  Naturally, I have already found it hard to recall any of the information as tantrums arise,  but it has given us a direction to head.   It was the perfect timing for it (minus the fact that we couldn't both attend all the sessions), because before you adopt, you sit through those conferences just praying that your soon to be child won't be one of the severe cases on the clips they show, but if you wait too long, then you just have more retraining to do.

And the last dance we are doing a little less of each day, is head banging.  Phew!  There are still daily tantrums and life is far far from back to "normal," but I'm pretty sure we are making some progress.  Yesterday, as we sat in church, with Maci on Dave's lap (of course) she was just smiling and looking at us and I felt so proud of her that I could hardly contain myself.  I wanted to stand up and tell everyone to look at how precious she is.  What an amazing feeling, to be falling in love with a child that I really only met a month ago. I know as soon as I press "publish," our entire house will fall apart and the next post will be about how we are back to ground zero, but for now, I'll bask in the feeling of progress:)

I know some of you have already seen this clip, but how could I resist posting it again, in light of this blog title?

Backwards Motion

Good Golly Miss Molly! Now if all of those were four letter words, you would actually know how I am feeling. I bet there are a few of you out there, that after a cutie little video and a couple of good days, might think that things are starting to fall into place around here. Don't be deceived, my dear friends. We are now home a little over 2 weeks and today was without question, the hardest to date. There were quite a few tears from all parties, not withstanding the grown ups. So, to those whose prayers for us are beginning to wane somewhat, please don't stop now. We would be beyond grateful.

I'd be lying if I said that every day was terrible, because there have actually been a couple of doable days. However, I hesitantly (because I don't totally know what I'm doing) venture to say that those days were more about keeping the statue quo than about moving forward. As long as I am trying to make everybody happy, things are OK, but the minute I need to take a little charge, there is some weeping and knashing of teeth that can be heard across the Pike's Peak region. My theory is this. I have now had some time under my belt to observe a little more about our newest member. I've realized (with some help from another adoptive family) that there is a difference between her kind, "No, thank you" and her "NO" with a few expletives in front and in back of it. I am picking up on the subtle lip gestures that are not friendly in nature, as well as all that lies behind the good ol' Ethiopian one sided shoulder shrug. All that to say, today was the end of observation and the beginning of taking back a little control around here.

As I've mentioned before, she is pretty into Dave, so sometimes when Dave is home, it is easy to let him deal with her, instead of me. I'll do the playing, but Dave will do the dirty work. For instance, when I try to give her a bath, it is mostly just screaming and meltdowns, but when he gives her a bath, she practically falls asleep as he massages the conditioner through her curly locks. Anyway, today, was different. While Dave was in charge of the other two, I was in charge of Maci Meeraf and I can assure this move was not a hit with the dear one. She put up more of a fight than I've ever seen before and her stamina was remarkable. I am happy to announce that she is sleeping right now, however, I am not happy to announce that I'm wrung out completely and starting to question why we ever thought this was a good idea?

Right at this very moment I am terribly sad that I told Leah that I would read her a book and scratch her back before bed, but she fell asleep before I could get there. I even tried to wake her back up, so I could follow through on my promise. Out of all the things to cry about today, the thing with Leah is the one I can't stop crying about, but I suppose it may be a an accumulation of hard hours in the day doing a little catching up.

Hopefully, sometime in the nearish future, I will have a post that will have a title like, "Progress Being Made," "She Didn't Cry When I Washed Her Hands!," "Fun day in New Zealand," but for now, the days just kind of stink and I'm feeling like we are pedaling hard, but we're going backwards.

Whoa Nellie!

Meeraf at home, instead of just hanging out as a picture on our fridge!

Sunnie and Meeraf playing in Ethiopia.

The car ride from home from the airport.

I want to go back and talk about my trip, because although I NEVER want to do that again, it really was a great trip. It was so fun to take someone there who had never been to a place like Ethiopia. It was so fun to go with my best friend from high school, Sunnie. It's not even like we keep in touch all that well and it's not like the plan for her to go was years in the making. It was a 9th inning call that was made within a few weeks of traveling.

If you know me well, you know that laughing takes me a long way. Life without laughing for me, is a bit like life without water. I have to laugh. It is what makes everything OK. When we boarded the plane from Denver to Frankfurt, we were already doubled over with laughter at the Italian guy next to me who snored louder than a buzz saw before we were even in the air and that trend continued throughout the whole trip. Of course, as the trip went on, it was mixed in with crying and temper tantrums and boundary testing, etc. . . . , but the laughter kept me sane. We were also, so beyond lucky to travel with Steve and Kelly, with whom I'm sure they are still thinking, "what would those girls have done without us." On the flights home, we put Steve in charge and he took up the challenge with great resolve and a smile on his face. So, thanks Steve - we would probably still be in the Sudan if you were not there to help us out! And thanks Scott, for letting Sunnie go with me.

At this very moment, I could use a little laughter in my life. The honeymoon is officially over and this has been the hardest day so far. Before today, I kinda thought that maybe we were one of the lucky ones. Sure, she was shunning me, but she was in love with Dave and from time to time she would give me a little encouragement and let me in a little. She smiled, she played, she shared, she was funny and silly, but BOY HOWDY, today has been a rough one. Hopefully, it is a growing one, though. Earlier today she had a melt down over washing her hands, so I picked her up, which sent her into a new level of melt down, complete with hitting and biting, but I just held her tight. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but after a slew of angry Amharic, she relaxed and then in a completely different manner, she began to cry. Not the angry cry that she had carried on with for quite a while, but a real sad sad cry. It was like two totally different languages. One of anger and one of pain. Oh - this is hard stuff. Mostly, for her, but it takes a lot out of us, too. I can't tell you how much I am dreading Dave going back to work. If he didn't have to go, then I would feel like this is totally doable, but I'm getting a little nervous. She will let him do anything, and me do nothing. Although, she will let me do whatever after she throws a little fit. It's just that I'm not sure I can handle a little fit, every time I need to put a shoe on, brush teeth, put lotion on, give her medicine, bathe her, pick her up, feed her, etc. . . I am so grateful that many well seasoned adoptive parents have told me that it is normal that a child attaches to the dad first, due to the fact that they have never had a dad that has hurt them, only a mom and a couple of female nannies who have left painful wounds in their tiny hearts. Well, that's about all I can muster about now, so I'm signing off.

OK, so I never sent that last post, so I'll just continue for a minute now. It is now 3 days later from the time I wrote the previous stuff. The next day was GREAT! She was so smiley, would let me help her, she played, and she didn't recoil every time I went to touch her. The hope is back! Whew!

Then yesterday was another pretty hard day, but kind of what I expected. Dave went to work the whole day. Spencer had a fever, but didn't want to stay in bed, Leah is getting another cold and I think Maci Meeraf thought she gave in a little too much yesterday. Under those circumstances, I think it was impossible to have a good day. We actually had a pretty good morning, but the afternoon was a train wreck. It was mostly Spence and Leah that were acting out, but Maci Meeraf was certainly keeping her distance from me. It felt awful, because I'm supposed to be providing this safe, cozy, comfortable place for Maci, but Spence and Leah were fighting, crying and falling apart and I had no back up. I found myself giving in to all my kids, because I couldn't risk multiple melt downs by everyone. Terrible - I know! It was the worst day possible for Dave to go back to work. It feels frustrating that Dave has saved a million vacation days for this very time, but he can't even use them, due to circumstances at work. Anyway, now I am whining. I know these posts are not terribly imaginative and just kind of informative, but I just want to keep people informed, I guess?

Today - it is only 7:58 on Friday and who knows what the day will hold. Please God - let it be better than yesterday!

A Little Bit of Then and a Little Bit of Now

Where to even begin . . . . . . . ?????????? What a trip. I wish you all could just read my mind, because I have no idea how to organize my thoughts and put them on paper. I'll just take it from the top, I guess.

We arrived late Saturday night and we took Sunday to just be tourists. We shopped, we saw sights, we ate at Mod Abbysinia, which is like an Ethiopian Country Dinner Playhouse. Our guide, Fekadu, from our last trip to Awassa, and his driver took us there and we had such a great night. The day was perfect and it gave us a chance to brace ourselves for what was to come.

That night, I didn't sleep for even one second, knowing that the next day, life was going to change, but I wasn't totally sure how. We headed to the care center and immediately set out to lay our eyes on Meeraf. I stepped into her room and she saw me and smiled. Already, I was making judgements about the rest of our lives together. I was thinking, "she smiled and she remembers me . . . everything is going to be great. Phew!" From this point on, I was either in survival mode, just trying to make it through the next minute, or I was making judgements on how the rest of our lives were going to go. Both were fairly exhausting ways to operate. Anyway, the initial reunion was so great and so encouraging. About a half hour in, I got news that the birth mom was going to come at 11:00. (In Ethiopian time, that means that maybe she'll come sometime that day.) So, we waited and waited and finally ended up going back to the hotel until they called us back. Late, in the afternoon, we got the call that she had arrived, so we hopped back in the Addis View van and made another crazy trip through the streets of Addis. However, about half way through the trek back, we pulled over and in stepped the birth mom. It was so obvious that it was her, because she looked just like Meeraf. AWKWARD!!!! I didn't know what to say, so I offered her a piece of gum. That seems so silly now. I was just caught so off gaurd. It's just tough to think of small talk, especially when you don't speak the same language. Gum is universal, though, isn't it?

At the care center, we had a chance to talk to each other. I was kind of hoping that she would be real teary and heart broken over being forced to give up her daughter due to unimaginable circumstances or something like that. That wasn't the case, though. She was very young and seemed rather unmoved by her decision to bring Meeraf to an orphanage. Before this meeting, I held a little bit of guilt about removing Meeraf from her country and from everything familiar to her, but that guilt fled in a hurry. The general sense that I felt after our meeting was that Meeraf was not in a good situation. After our meeting we took a few pictures and then Meeraf broke down into a puddle of tears. Heartbreaking! Man, the amount of trauma that this child went through, even in the one week I was there, is so heartbreaking, let alone all of the trauma she experienced before this week.

From that point, I bought Meeraf back to the hotel. This is where the rubber met road. I'll write more about our trip later. Right now, I'll give you a snapshot into life right now on this side of the hemisphere.

Meeraf is very hot and cold, and she definitely prefers Dave FAR about me . . . however, all things considered, I think she is doing really well. Obviously, it is painfully hard for me that she won't let me even touch her, or look at her at times. However, there are enough moments where she lets me in, that I am staying afloat for now. Like, at the park today, I thought my heart would burst. She smiled so much, giggled, played and would repeat me saying "UNNNNDERDOOOOOOOG," as I was pushing her on the swing. Holy Cow - it was beyond precious. She is beyond precious - and I think I'll go take in a little bit of her preciousness right now, if she'll let me:)

It's true . . . I leave tomorrow!

Tomorrow afternoon I will be leaving Colorado Springs eastbound to Ethiopia to bring home Maci Meeraf Aldridge. The email came in the middle of the night that our Embassy date is set for March 27th. After opening the email, there was a giant rush of adrenaline preventing my sleepy self from settling back into a soft, warm sleep. So, a few restless hours later, I have decided to try my hand at one last post before I head out.

The other night I was watching "Tangled" with my kids and there was a scene in the movie that made me feel a lot like Rapunzel. (It certainly wasn't her thick long hair making me feel like her!) Her whole life, she had seen in the distance hundreds upon thousands of lights rise into the sky on her birthday. The whole movie was about her reaching this destination and this point where she would see the lights up close. So, there she was in the boat, anticipating the launch of these thousands of lanterns. While you would expect that she would be giddy with excitement, she timidly shared that she was "terrified." She went on to say, "I've been looking out a window for 18 years, dreaming about what I might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it's not everything I dreamed it would be?" Well, folks - that is about how I feel . . . terrified, but I think (maybe not initially) it will all be breathtakingly beautiful.

I can't even begin to think of what this trip is going to look like, so get creative in your prayers. You might even feel led to pray that if she's got lice, they will be lazy lice and not inclined to jump anywhere. I have no idea??? One prayer that I would seriously covet, though, is prayers for the hearts of everyone in our family. For Maci and me to start bonding right off the bat, for Spencer's and Leah's and Dave's hearts to be open and ready to receive Maci when we return, and just for our family dynamics all around when we start our life as a family of 5. All I can think of to say as I wrap this up, get ready to pack and get ready to pick up OUR DAUGHTER is hold onto your hats everybody- this is gonna be a ride! Lord have mercy!