Grieving.

Esias is grieving.  I don't always talk about his grieving, because I know so many children who were adopted at older ages and how severe their grief can be...and I know that his grieving looks like maybe any other 3 year old just having a fit or something like that.  But as his mother,  the one who knows his heart, I know.  I can tell the difference.  This year has brought lots of changes for him, going to school, Dan and I leaving him for 10 days, therapy, etc.  Just last Friday he had tests at the U to see what his seizure was all about back in August.  Well, my sick, sad little baby was back in my arms...even though he knows we are mom and dad...even though he knows we love him, and he loves us...I could see his eyes.  They become withdrawn.  He gets more fearful of noises, strangers, new places.  The hospital was the place we spent lots of time when we he wasn't really bonded or attached to us.  He was scared and or prodded and poked most of the time while we were there.  And though we go there every week for therapy (which is usually a positve experience) when we were there last week he had sedation and an EEG which were both uncomfortable and scary for him.  So last night, he sort of lost it.  He woke up in the night (well, around midnight) and couldn't find Dan.  Dan was outside taking the trash to the curb.  So basically he freaked.  I know no idea why he didn't just find me, but for some reason he was confused and he was so scared.  He cried for over 2 hours straight with no comfort from us.  It was difficult to watch.  We finally fell asleep at 3am...I am not sure what happened to trigger it but he finally calmed down, laid down between us and fell asleep.  And when he woke up this morning, he was "fine."  But I know that despite his smile and his natural personality which just beams with joy most of the time...he experienced loss and trauma at an early age.  That kind of thing changes a person.  And I can only ask God to help us navigate through this life as his parents and help us to meet him where he is and love him through all of it.

The Realness of Adoption

Esias has had a bit of an insecure couple of weeks. It could be because we started our new schoolday routine, which includes me watching another 2 and 4 year old. Or because we tried a few new things- babysitter and Sunday School. Who knows. He can't talk to tell us what's wrong but we can tell. He grips us a little tighter and checks to make sure we're right there.

I was talking with a good friend of mine at a baby shower this weekend and she asked how Esias was doing. Since this friend is one who prayed with us through the wait, cried out with us when we were denied 5 times at the courts, and ached with us as we found out about his health issues, I felt comfortable giving her the real life answer. We talked about his health and the possibility that he may need to use an alternative method of communication besides speaking. He may not eat "normally." We just don't know. Like we've been told many times, we don't have that crystal ball. Things with Esias are just up in the air. He's no longer struggling for life, and we're thankful for that. So thankful. But as far and eating and talking goes, he's probably not going to be "normal."

Adoption in general is something we can't predict. We can prepare--a little-- but ultimately it is God's plan and not our own. We want to think that when we meet our child for the first time, after the terrible wait, after praying for them constantly...that they will love us, smile and coo or run into our open arms, depending on the age. We want to think that all they need is a little food, a nice clean bed, and some good old fashioned lovin' and they are good as new. That their wounds are superficial and that they will heal with a little Band-Aid. I bought that. I stepped off the plane carrying a 14 lb one year old with severe developmental delays and thought we'd be golden after a few months of nutrition and nurturing...the Band-Aid. I think God gave me blinders so to speak, to keep me from being fearful. He gives us hope and optimism because if we knew some of the things we'd go through, if we had the proverbial crystal ball, we might not apply for the job at all! This can be said of biological kids, adopted kids, stepkids, what have you! Parenting is hard stuff, however you slice it.

The reality of adoption is this. Sometimes it is not what you thought it would be. Or let me rephrase that. 99% of the time, it is not what you thought it would be. They might have physical scars or scars you can't see. It's hard. It's emotional. People don't "get" what you're going through. Esias isn't even old enough yet to be experiencing his own feelings about his adoption and yet we've already realized that this is not something for the faint of heart. Daily, we fight for this child. We fight for his health, we fight for his security, we fight for his trust. He was a wounded child. We still see the back-and-forth effect of attachment...he's secure and great at home, but something out of the ordinary happens (like trying to get him to try Sunday School) and we see the scared, tiny, sick boy come rushing back through the look in his eyes. He was a wounded child. We have physically helped him heal. We have bonded with him and shown him love and family. But somehow, he is the one who has healed us. He teaches us every day about love, faith, family, and trust. Esias Tesfaye, I love you! I will always be your mommy and I will never, ever leave you!

Edited to Add: By no means are we feeling discouraged or negative about Esias' progress. He's done AMAZING things in this 14 months. We love him for HIM, no matter what. We are 100% certain that he was meant to be our child (just like the SCC song!) and he fits in perfectly! I just wanted to convey the real story about adoption. It's not a fairytale, but it's God's story. And it's good.

This is a cool song! With a surprise!

Steven Curtis Chapman, a Christian musician and co-founder of Show Hope (with his wife Mary Beth) just released this video. It's for a song he did for the new Veggie Tales video coming out in October. Show Hope is an organization that gives grants for adopting families-- we were blessed with one way back when we first started the process. In return, we have provided them with a few pictures and our story. We had no idea what they'd do with it, but a friend of mine of Facebook sent me this link today. Guess who's in a music video!

http://www.youtube.com/user/BigIdeaInc#p/u/0/l9ksMpwqjXQ

Meaningful Words

This post was written by a friend of mine and fellow adoptive mother. She has an 8 year old daughter from Ethiopia and a 4 (I think) year old daughter from South Korea. I loved her post on Mother's Day. If you are adopting a child older than an infant, and even if you are adopting an infant, this post is a must-read. Though to us adoption is a miracle, is does not occur without loss and hurt. In a perfect world, we would not have our adopted children, but their first moms would.

On Hair and Mother's Day
by Holly Kladder of Life Onward

Yesterday morning I woke up ready to be celebrated by my husband and daughters... fully aware that I share the title of Mother to my daughters with other women, but looking forward to the little cards and gifts I knew were coming and lunch at The Omelette Shoppe (my choice) after church.

When my daughters hugged me and shouted their "Happy Mother's Day" proclamations, I knew I was the most blessed mama around to have these two hooligans to call my own. In that moment I really didn't dwell on their other mothers...after all, it wasn't "Mothers Day" in S. Korea or in Ethiopia, so what did it matter if I alone was celebrated this day?

It did matter; it does matter. My oldest was on edge all morning... she was thrilled to give me a card and gift, but she was dealing with some mixed emotions.

Hair time can be quite the battleground around here; not always, but more frequent than I thought possible. Not because I find it hard to take care of her hair... in fact, I don't think it's hard... it's just time-consuming. Not because she doesn't want her hair done... she DOES, and only by ME. And I'm glad. BUT. It is a battle. Hair time reminds her that her hair is different than the rest of ours. Hair time reminds her of another mom who took care of her hair, who had hair just like hers, just like her sister's. Hair time reminds her that there are things she wishes were different, but has no control over them whatsoever, and that is some vile tasting medicine.

It was a battle yesterday. I accidentally dripped some hair detangling lotion onto her arm... it was a much bigger deal than it should have been. She was angry; not satisfied with my apology, and took her arm and wiped the hair goop across the front of my shirt, in the typical 'I'll show you' fashion she perfected that first year home and still occasionally demonstrates. I was a little more upset than I should have been... for the love of your mother, it's Mother's Day... be nice to your mother. When Bereket feels bad, often times instead of apologizing, she makes up an owie for herself... attempts to lick wounds that aren't there... to hide the real wounds that ARE there. In this case, her skirt was wet... I had got lotion water on her skirt and she needed a napkin cuz it was soaking wet. It was more dry than thrice dried laundry, and in fact nothing had dripped or spilled on it. She carried on and on and on about her wet (dry) skirt.

Later when we talked about what happened she said she had been upset about the lotion on her arm, was upset that she had reacted by wiping it on me, angry that her hair was different and she couldn't flip and shake it like girls with long straight hair, and so she had made up the wet skirt bit.

Fast forward to today. Hair time was a breeze (you just never know) and she wanted to talk about D (her Ethiopian mom). She talked and talked and talked. Then:

Mom, can I call D mama too?
Of course you can, she IS your mama too.
Mom, some day when we go to visit her in Ethiopia... oops (sheepishly)...
What? You're allowed to want to visit some day!
Some day when we go to visit her in Ethiopia, I would like her to braid my hair again. But I would like you to brush it first, and then she can braid it. But I would like us to bring some nice hair ties with us, because she doesn't have any.

Be still my soul.... be still my heart...
Baby girl, some day I would love to come with you to visit D, if you'll let me. I would love to anoint your head with oil and tears, together with your other mama, love to brush out your hair while we all sit together. Love to watch D's fingers work through your hair, parting and braiding, ending with pretty hair ties that you picked out. Let it be so.


Over the past year and a half I have reassured Bereket many times that D will always be her mommy too, have spoken of her as such, encouraged Bereket to speak of her as such.... but still she needed to hear it again, that even on Mother's Day, it's okay to love two mamas.

---

Orphan

A few days ago something very simple happened at our house. Esias picked up a baby doll, put it on his shoulder and rocked it. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. When my girls did this at this age I thought it was adorable. But when Zi Zi did this, I wanted to cry. My son, who laid in a bed hour after hour, month after month, not understanding the concept of a mother and child, or father and child...now here he stood beside me hugging a baby doll to his chest, rocking, patting, comforting. He knows parents now. He is no longer an orphan! Praise God.

Tonight another mini-miracle occurred. We took the kids to the play area at the mall to let them run off some steam. Now, a weird thing happens when God places a people on your heart. When God put Ethiopia on our hearts, we began to notice people who looked Ethiopian at church, at the mall, etc. Tonight, at the play area, we saw two very East African looking boys (beautiful, beautiful boys). We scanned the parents sitting around to see if there were other adoptive parents around. Hmmm. Suddenly, a little ways away we saw a woman who also looked East African. Dan is brave, so he scooped up Esias and approached the woman. The conversation went something like this:
Dan: Are those your boys?
Woman: Yes...
Dan: Are you from...Ethiopia?
Woman: No, but I am from a region near there.
Dan: What region are you from?
Woman: Eritrea. Is he [pointing to Esias] from Ethiopia?
Dan: Yes, we adopted him.
[at this point I can over and introduced myself to her as well. Her name is Abeba. I told her how much we enjoyed being over in Ethiopia]
Woman: I appreciate what you guys have done because I grew up as an orphan.
Shadley: Did you live in an orphanage? Or with family?
Woman: In an orphanage.
Shadley: Wow...
Woman: God bless you for what you're doing for this boy.
Shadley: God bless YOU for all you've been through!

It was just the most amazing conversation. Sometime I like to forget or pretend that Esias would have been ok without us...but the reality was he was an orphan. He is NO LONGER an orphan, he is my son. My beautiful, incredible, wonderful son.

Family Picture

We had to snap some photos of our home and family for our dossier (adoption documents), so I thought I would post a few cute ones...kind of wish we had replaced that door already...Spring project! :)