This is really late...3 years and 11 days ago....

On November 18th 2009 I sat and waited and waited for my phone to ring. I waited to hear the sound on the other end of the line that said "You passed" Meanwhile, I was trying to teach my classes, while checking my phone every 5 minutes

I was hesitant, for I had waited for this call before and when I received it, did not hear the words "You passed", but I was hopeful...again.

I was hopeful that the judge several thousands of miles away would see, what I already knew, that the little boy whose paperwork she was looking at was my son. I was hopeful that she would know that our hearts belonged together.

I can hardly believe it has been 3 years since I answered my phone to the words, "Congratulations, you are his mom" That called turned my world upside down in the best, most amazing way.

3 years ago

Little Man you have made me the happiest mom in the world.

When grief looks like...well grief

      He sits in my lap, eyes sad, holding tightly to my finger and asks to see it again. A moment of hesitation, I momentarily question myself and then tell him of course. I hit play again, he has seen the video a number of times, he has danced to the music, commented at the pictures but today it seems to evoke a different emotion. Part way through the video he shifts to my other leg, wraps his arms around my arm, his eyes are watery he is quiet, head resting on my chest. I start to talk to him, talk him through the events. He asks to see other videos, starts to flip through my computer, so I play the one year home video. We make it through the video, he is crying, silent tears running down his face and then he looks at me and starts to seek reassurance.

Grief strikes in a new way this time. He is growing, learning, developing. He is processing on a different level than before and this time he feels sadness, loss and fear that the pattern will repeat. He cries for ten minutes or so, seeking arms of comfort and verbal reassurance that I am here, for always, he seeks hugs and words of reassurance from the friends in the room that they are here for him.

For the first time I think he understands the feelings of loss. For the first time he questions where people are, if he will see them again. He wakes then next morning and says he missed someone when they were gone....and asks will they go away again. My heart breaks a little. It is so easy as an adult to understand that physical distance between people means time between visits can be long (i.e. my friends in CA, my parents and various friends scattered around the US), but time and distance are abstract concepts to little minds. It is also a fact of life that people come and go from our lives...easy (or at least easier) as an adult to see that, but how do you explain that to a child.

I sit tonight four nights later still processing what happened that night. Still processing how to help him understand the loss he has experienced. That I can not protect him from the pains of people leaving our lives in future, but that I will always be here for him as he grieves those losses. And most importantly I am very aware of the loss he has already experienced and that I honor and respect whatever feelings that brings. That I know our family, the us, comes only because he, as a tiny baby had to experience the greatest loss.

I will hold him. love him, reassure him as he continues to grow and develop. I will take the anger and the sad of grief.  I will hold my child as he walks through all of that, and I will hold the hand of the young man as he walks through it again later. When my adoption was approved the text/email I sent out was "he is mine and I am his and we are a family" Today that rings more true than it did almost 3 years ago. We are a family and we will work through all that comes and has already come our way.

Growth it is beautiful....painful.....amazing to watch and experience.

Little Man I promise to always hold you up whether we are giggling or crying!

When grief strikes...

  I know his cries and whines...or so I thought.

We have been home for almost 3 years. He was a baby when they placed him in my arms, barely 18 lbs, just having celebrated his 1st birthday.  I learned the cry for tired, for hungry, for wet.  I learned his cry for just wanting attention (think tantrum) and his cry for hurt. And I thought I had learned his cry for sadness.

That is until the last couple of days. A new cry has appeared, a cry that pierces my heart, it starts almost as a scream and then shakes his whole body. Tears stream down his face and when he finally consents to being in my arms his body is rigid. Once I am holding him the crying calms slowly and then he lays still against my shoulder, no sound,  just slowly relaxing  for 5 or more minutes. During this time he will not make eye contact, in fact he won't even lift his head off my shoulder. Eventually he shifts to sitting sideways against me, resting his head against my chest so he can hear my heartbeat.

I can only describe this as grief. Why now and where it comes from I do not know. But I do know that despite what "people" want to say adopting a baby does not mean that the transition will be easy. It does not mean they don't remember, his body remembers. His body grieves the loss of something. And at this age when independence and control are battling in his life this grief strikes hard and fast.

Lately he has been talking about babies a lot. He has been asking to be a big brother, for me to have a baby in my tummy. I don't know where that comes from either. I wonder if the two are connected. I will never know.

For now all I can do is hold him, let him cry it out and reassure him that he is home forever.

My how he has grown

Little man fell asleep early and so I have been catching up on things tonight...one of those is this blog that I have neglected lately :) So I typically take Little man to get pictures taken every 6 month, I was a little late this year but still finally got his 3 1/2 year pictures taken. I can't believe my little boy is looking like such a big boy now.

Today I sit and wonder...

I wrote this 2 years ago before Mother's Day on a day often referred to as Birth Mother's day in the adoption world and just never published it. Today as I have simply enjoyed the little boy he is becoming I was overcome so many times with so many emotions. Today he and I watched his birth country win the gold medal in the women's marathon and I shared that with moment with him.  So I figured I would post it today as it still holds so very true.


Today I sit and wonder if she has had enough to eat.

Today I sit and wonder if she is well.

Today I sit and wonder if she thinks of him.

Today I sit and wonder if she has any idea the gift she gave me.

Today I sit in awe that I get to be a mom.

Today I sit in awe of the blessings I have been given

Today I sit in awe of the power of love.

Today I sit in awe of the little boy that calls me mom.

Today I sit and cry for a woman I will likely never meet.

Today I sit and cry for a mother and a son who had to part ways.

Today I sit and cry for families torn apart.

Today I sit and cry for the hunger and disease that still ravish this world.

Today I rejoice in the little boy I am raising

Today I rejoice in the life God trusted me with

Today I rejoice in being a mom!

Thank you Little Man for making me a mom!

His birthmom lives in my heart and crosses my mind on a regular basis. But today is a day I make sure to take the time to talk to him about her. To share what little I know. Today is the day we will plant a rose in her honor. We will watch it bloom each year and grow. We will remember that he and I get to grow together each year because of her love! Today is a day I make sure to share him with her.

Two tough little boys...

These are two of the toughest little boys I know. Now I realize I am a bit biased about this, due to the fact that I love and adore both of them, but truly when I look at the things they are experiencing in their lives I am in awe of how they handle it all. Two very different battles they fight.  I don't compare the two battles, just stand back in admiration of their spirits. recognizing that both little boys have the right to not be the happy, charming children they are most days.  What blessings they are in my life (and I am sure to Mr M's parents lives as well!)

Sensory processing, PTSD and 4 days in a hospital

I have started this post at least  a half dozen times since we came home on Friday and have not quite figured out the right words or directions to take the post. I am still processing the what has happened and the aftermath of spending four days in the hospital with a child that has sensory processing difficulties and PTSD.

We were admitted to the hospital on Tuesday for a blockage in his GI tract, nothing scary, but certainly had gotten to the serious enough point where they hospitalized us. I knew when we walked in that it would be a couple of days stay. Little man and I had talked about going to the hospital, why we were having to go and to the best of my knowledge what they were going to have to do. I was trying to prepare him the best I possibly could. What I have discovered was I needed as much preparation as he did!

The staff at the hospital was amazing. I could not have asked for better nurses, nurse practitioners and the various other staff that stopped by to check on us. They listened when I talked about his needs and respected it. When it came time to get him ready for an IV, the nurse sat on the floor, had him help her put the numbing cream on his arm and then discussed what she was doing. She brought in a sample NG tube and helped him "place the NG tube" in his stuffed animal. They told him whenever they were going to do something and talked him through each process. I was amazed and thrilled.  Unfortunately at 3 while the talking helped him through at that instant it does not hold off the trauma of it all and the feeling of not having control of the situation.

Now for the more emotional side of my writing this post-
    Just about a year ago little man began having horrible nightmares. It took me several months to reach out for help and not long after that for a doctor to say looks like PTSD, go see this person..who we have now been seeing weekly for 8 months for PTSD. We have come a long ways, in helping little man talk about his "big feelings" and recognizing when his body is having "big feelings" And I think I undid a lot of that this past week.

Since we have gotten home these are a few behaviors and emotions I have seen- anger, throwing toys, stripping his bed to nothing, throwing his toys away in the trash can (favorite toys nonetheless) and panic about food again. The last one I think is the one that hits me, because I totally forgot to anticipate that. I took a child who came to me at just over 12 months hoarding food and spent 4 days telling him he couldn't have the food he was asking for, that all he could have was jello, juice, chicken broth and popsicles. What did I expect? I just didn't think about it and there was nothing I could do to change what they were giving him. but I maybe could have changed the way I answered him, the discussion that went with the  "no".


We have been home a week now....and I still have not finished this post..tonight I am going to finish.

In the week we have been home I have watched him struggle and begin to regain his comfort with food. I have watched him loose all his connection to what his body is telling him whether that be the need to go to the bathroom or eat or sleep. I have seen him seek the structured of his organized day at school and evening routine and then panic when I went to leave him at school. I have watched him fight the demons at night. His fitful sleep has returned and his fear of going to sleep is at a high.

We are tired, we are emotional, we are drained...we are clinging to each other to make it through. And yet, I am brought to my knees in gratitude that through all the troubles we are having and as angry at me as he is, he seeks me in his fear, he calls for me even in his sleep. Something bad and traumatic happened last week and I was there to witness all of it, I sat by his side, with him through all the scary moments, lack of control moments and he came out of understandably angry, but knowing mommy doesn't leave. He came out of it witnessing my unconditional love and the love and support of so many people who came to the hospital to check on him.

We can and will work through all the rest of it, because he knows that we are a family. We will work through tired, angry, emotionally confused and drained because we are a family and nothing is going to make me leave his side.  For tonight we sleep, as best we can and face tomorrow together. Tomorrow we work on healing, we work on connecting to our body again and what it is telling us. Tomorrow we work on laughter instead of anger.