"I was worrying Buster's heart was two sizes too small, but now I'm thinking it growed because he is much nicer on this day."
Buddy & I were sick the entire week last week with a particularly nasty virus that has been going around; I can't remember the last time any of us were so sick for such a long period of time. Normally, I would send any non-infected children over to my mom or sister's to play, but since this virus was so awful, I didn't want to risk spreading our germs to anyone else. Unfortunately for Buster, that meant he was stuck home all week with two people who could do little else except lie on the couch and watch an endless loop of Diego episodes all day long. He was bored out of his mind and choose to express his displeasure by throwing puzzle pieces at the cats, climbing on the book shelves and communicating only via shrieks and whines.
It was a long week.
Luckily all 3 of us are back to normal today. Buddy & I are disease-free and the boys are back to being best buddies. Buster even shared his blanket with Buddy this afternoon, prompting Buddy's announcement to me that we no longer need to be concerned about the size of Buster's heart. I know my heart got the warm-fuzzies when Buddy finished talking to me, ran back to the playroom, threw his arms around Buster and said "You're my best brother ever!" as they fell to the floor in a giggling heap.
Nothing like a week of high fevers to remind us that regular, ordinary days together are pretty awesome.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
One of Those Days
This pretty much sums up the kind of day I am having...
Buster: MMMMAAAMMMAAA, emergency!
Me: What is the emergency?
Buster: I pee-peed on the floor.
Me: Oh Buster! Why did you pee on the floor?!?
Buster: Because it came out while I go poop in my underwear....don't worry Mama, I say sorry to Mickey already (as in the mickey on his underwear).
Buster: MMMMAAAMMMAAA, emergency!
Me: What is the emergency?
Buster: I pee-peed on the floor.
Me: Oh Buster! Why did you pee on the floor?!?
Buster: Because it came out while I go poop in my underwear....don't worry Mama, I say sorry to Mickey already (as in the mickey on his underwear).
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
National Adoption Awareness Month - Week 4
If Buddy had been identified as having special needs at the time of his referral, I'm not sure we would've adopted him.
It makes me feel sick to my stomach to say that, but its the truth. Granted, his needs are not severe, but I'm not sure we would've been comfortable with even minor special needs. As first time parents, becoming a mom was overwhelming enough. I imagined the extra work and worry of parenting a child with special needs and I didn't think I'd be able to handle it. I imagined parents of such children were better than me - more patient, less prone to anxiety, better at seeing the glass half-full. And, if I'm being honest, I felt like we'd already struggled enough. The years trying to get pregnant, the fertility treatments, the miscarriage...it was our turn to be happy, not to commit ourselves to years of extra work, worry and heartbreak.
Thank God none of Buddy's issues had been identified at the time of his referral. Thank God he hadn't been "labeled" as special needs.
That label could've been the difference between Buddy becoming our child or another family's son. Far worse, that label could've been the difference between Buddy being adopted or becoming a waiting child, sent to live in an orphanage with a greatly diminished chance of ever joining a family.
I can't imagine what that label could've done to Buddy's life. I can't imagine what it could've done to mine.
By the time we arrived in Guatemala to bring Buddy home, it was obvious his development was not following the path of a "typical" child. I never would've walked away from him at that point; he been our son from the moment we'd accepted his referral 9 months earlier. But I won't lie and say we were instantly comfortable and confident we could handle the situation either. Those first few months I definitely had many "Why me?" and "I can't do this" moments. Truthfully, those feelings still surface from time to time.
The difference is I know now that just because I struggle sometimes doesn't mean I can't be the mom Buddy needs me to be. Parents of children with special needs aren't perfect, they aren't saints. Even someone like me, who is impatient and easily frustrated and prone to pity parties, can do it. Not only do it, but enjoy it.
Ordinary people can parent a child with special needs. Don't convince yourself you can't. Don't turn way from waiting children without really considering it as an option. I know that might sound like ridiculous advice coming from me, since I stumbled into this situation instead of choosing it. But if I had known then what I know now, I would've chosen it...should we ever decide to adopt again, the waiting child list will be the place we start.
It makes me feel sick to my stomach to say that, but its the truth. Granted, his needs are not severe, but I'm not sure we would've been comfortable with even minor special needs. As first time parents, becoming a mom was overwhelming enough. I imagined the extra work and worry of parenting a child with special needs and I didn't think I'd be able to handle it. I imagined parents of such children were better than me - more patient, less prone to anxiety, better at seeing the glass half-full. And, if I'm being honest, I felt like we'd already struggled enough. The years trying to get pregnant, the fertility treatments, the miscarriage...it was our turn to be happy, not to commit ourselves to years of extra work, worry and heartbreak.
Thank God none of Buddy's issues had been identified at the time of his referral. Thank God he hadn't been "labeled" as special needs.
That label could've been the difference between Buddy becoming our child or another family's son. Far worse, that label could've been the difference between Buddy being adopted or becoming a waiting child, sent to live in an orphanage with a greatly diminished chance of ever joining a family.
I can't imagine what that label could've done to Buddy's life. I can't imagine what it could've done to mine.
By the time we arrived in Guatemala to bring Buddy home, it was obvious his development was not following the path of a "typical" child. I never would've walked away from him at that point; he been our son from the moment we'd accepted his referral 9 months earlier. But I won't lie and say we were instantly comfortable and confident we could handle the situation either. Those first few months I definitely had many "Why me?" and "I can't do this" moments. Truthfully, those feelings still surface from time to time.
The difference is I know now that just because I struggle sometimes doesn't mean I can't be the mom Buddy needs me to be. Parents of children with special needs aren't perfect, they aren't saints. Even someone like me, who is impatient and easily frustrated and prone to pity parties, can do it. Not only do it, but enjoy it.
Ordinary people can parent a child with special needs. Don't convince yourself you can't. Don't turn way from waiting children without really considering it as an option. I know that might sound like ridiculous advice coming from me, since I stumbled into this situation instead of choosing it. But if I had known then what I know now, I would've chosen it...should we ever decide to adopt again, the waiting child list will be the place we start.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Two
Its been two years since Chris & Buster boarded a plane and crossed an ocean together to get home.
Two years since I stood in the terminal with butterflies in my stomach, anxiously anticipating the moment I'd finally get to hold my 10 month old son.
Two years since Buddy knelt down and whispered "Hey brother" to the baby who for so long was only a picture on our refrigerator door.
Two years since we became a family of four.
Happy Family Day Buster - you have filled the last two years with joy and adventure.
Two years since I stood in the terminal with butterflies in my stomach, anxiously anticipating the moment I'd finally get to hold my 10 month old son.
Two years since Buddy knelt down and whispered "Hey brother" to the baby who for so long was only a picture on our refrigerator door.
Two years since we became a family of four.
Happy Family Day Buster - you have filled the last two years with joy and adventure.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
A Picture of a Picture
Yesterday Buddy drew a picture of an airplane:
I know, who takes a picture of her 4 year old's picture? Four year olds draw pictures all the time.
That's true, 4 year olds - even 3 year olds - draw pictures all the time.
But Buddy doesn't.
In fact this is the first picture he's drawn that doesn't consist of a few half-hearted squiggly lines and shaky circles.
It's a picture that's the result of hours of occupational therapy and hard work.
Which makes it a picture worthy of a picture.
I know, who takes a picture of her 4 year old's picture? Four year olds draw pictures all the time.That's true, 4 year olds - even 3 year olds - draw pictures all the time.
But Buddy doesn't.
In fact this is the first picture he's drawn that doesn't consist of a few half-hearted squiggly lines and shaky circles.
It's a picture that's the result of hours of occupational therapy and hard work.
Which makes it a picture worthy of a picture.
Monday, November 15, 2010
National Adoption Awareness Month - Week 3
There comes a point during the application process when prospective adoptive parents must complete paperwork identifying what type of child they are open to adopting. I remember filling out this form during both our adoptions and each time feeling the full weight of the moment settle on my shoulders. It's one thing to know you want to adopt a fairly healthy infant, its another thing to look at a checklist of medical conditions and understand that your answers to these questions mean rejecting real, waiting children in need of a home.
Filling out that form is a moment a lot of prospective parents dread. It feels wrong, for example, to actually check "no" when asked if you are open to adopting a child with fetal alcohol syndrome. It feels like you're saying these lives don't matter, that these children aren't "good enough". It's not an easy moment. However, it's an essential step in the process to ensure that children are placed with families that have the desire and capability to parent them.
Because that's what adoption is about - the desire to parent a child.
I'm not saying that the opportunity to help a waiting child is not a factor in many people's decision to adopt, but the bottom line is the choice to adopt has to stem from the desire to be a parent.
Adoption is not an act of charity.
I think that's an important point to make this month. Adoption is wonderful, but it is not the solution to the orphan crisis. Even if it was, there are an estimated 143 million orphans in the world. Adoptions barely put a dent in that number. Plus, it does nothing to address the extreme poverty and cultural issues that make adoption necessary in the first place.
Adoption is far from the only answer; its important to be aware of that. Just because you are not adopting or just because you are not adopting a child with special needs, doesn't mean you can't be part of the solution for those 143 million children. It doesn't mean you can't help end the poverty and societal pressures that leave so many families no other choice than to hand their children over to someone else.
You can help someone like my friend Deanna. Deanna's daughter Ragen has down syndrome and she and her husband Rob have recently decided the best way to expand their family is by adopting Melanie, another child with down syndrome. They are working with Reece's Rainbow, an organization helping orphans with down syndrome and other serious special needs around the world. Consider contributing to Melanie's adoption fund or supporting other RR children and families.
You can help by becoming a sponsor of Eastern Social Welfare Society, the Korean organization that coordinated Buster's foster care and adoption. Although ESWS's primary focus is adoption, they continue to expand their services to better assist those in need. This includes operating homes for disabled children, children unavailable for adoption and single mothers. They also provide financial support to students from low income families and to single mothers who choose to parent their children despite the intense social pressures they face in doing so.
Reece's Rainbow, ESWS and Mayan Families are just 3 of countless organizations and individuals trying to make a difference. It's easy to say "someone should adopt them", but the reality is adoption will only be the answer for a small percentage of the 143 million orphans in need. In a month dedicated to raising awareness about adoption, I think its equally as important to acknowledge that it takes more than adoption to help those 143 million children and to find ways to save future children and families from the same fate.
Filling out that form is a moment a lot of prospective parents dread. It feels wrong, for example, to actually check "no" when asked if you are open to adopting a child with fetal alcohol syndrome. It feels like you're saying these lives don't matter, that these children aren't "good enough". It's not an easy moment. However, it's an essential step in the process to ensure that children are placed with families that have the desire and capability to parent them.
Because that's what adoption is about - the desire to parent a child.
I'm not saying that the opportunity to help a waiting child is not a factor in many people's decision to adopt, but the bottom line is the choice to adopt has to stem from the desire to be a parent.
Adoption is not an act of charity.
I think that's an important point to make this month. Adoption is wonderful, but it is not the solution to the orphan crisis. Even if it was, there are an estimated 143 million orphans in the world. Adoptions barely put a dent in that number. Plus, it does nothing to address the extreme poverty and cultural issues that make adoption necessary in the first place.
Adoption is far from the only answer; its important to be aware of that. Just because you are not adopting or just because you are not adopting a child with special needs, doesn't mean you can't be part of the solution for those 143 million children. It doesn't mean you can't help end the poverty and societal pressures that leave so many families no other choice than to hand their children over to someone else.
You can help someone like my friend Deanna. Deanna's daughter Ragen has down syndrome and she and her husband Rob have recently decided the best way to expand their family is by adopting Melanie, another child with down syndrome. They are working with Reece's Rainbow, an organization helping orphans with down syndrome and other serious special needs around the world. Consider contributing to Melanie's adoption fund or supporting other RR children and families.
You can help by becoming a sponsor of Eastern Social Welfare Society, the Korean organization that coordinated Buster's foster care and adoption. Although ESWS's primary focus is adoption, they continue to expand their services to better assist those in need. This includes operating homes for disabled children, children unavailable for adoption and single mothers. They also provide financial support to students from low income families and to single mothers who choose to parent their children despite the intense social pressures they face in doing so.
You can help by supporting Mayan Families, a small organization providing services to people in one of Guatemala's poorest regions. In addition to meeting the community's immediate needs for food, shelter and medical care, a primary goal of the group is to provide long term solutions for families in need. Among other things, this program provides educational opportunities to adults as well as children and supplies other essentials, such as water filters & chickens, that families need to stay together and break the vicious cycle of poverty.
Reece's Rainbow, ESWS and Mayan Families are just 3 of countless organizations and individuals trying to make a difference. It's easy to say "someone should adopt them", but the reality is adoption will only be the answer for a small percentage of the 143 million orphans in need. In a month dedicated to raising awareness about adoption, I think its equally as important to acknowledge that it takes more than adoption to help those 143 million children and to find ways to save future children and families from the same fate.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
National Adoption Awareness Month - Week 2
It took us one year to decide to adopt after we went to our first agency-sponsored adoption meeting. I remember driving home from that meeting thinking "Adoption is a great option...for somebody else's family". It wasn't something that felt right for us.
Part of that was coming to terms with infertility, but truthfully, it was mostly about fear.
Fear that an adopted child would never feel like "mine".
Fear that we'd end up a horror story on the news, our child ripped from our arms and returned to a birth parent years after our adoption was complete.
Fear that I'd view adoption as a consolation prize and my child would know it.
Fear that my child would end up resenting me because I was not the "real parent".
Fear that our child would carry physical and emotional scars from orphanage or foster care that we wouldn't be able to handle.
Fear that adoption would mark us as different, that we'd never fit in with "normal" families.
I know adoption isn't for everyone, but if fear is your motivation for dismissing it without much consideration, look again. Read adoption websites and blogs, research agencies and programs, talk to other parents. If I haven't done that, I would've missed out on the chance to parent the two people I love most in this world.
Part of that was coming to terms with infertility, but truthfully, it was mostly about fear.
Fear that an adopted child would never feel like "mine".
Fear that we'd end up a horror story on the news, our child ripped from our arms and returned to a birth parent years after our adoption was complete.
Fear that I'd view adoption as a consolation prize and my child would know it.
Fear that my child would end up resenting me because I was not the "real parent".
Fear that our child would carry physical and emotional scars from orphanage or foster care that we wouldn't be able to handle.
Fear that adoption would mark us as different, that we'd never fit in with "normal" families.
I know adoption isn't for everyone, but if fear is your motivation for dismissing it without much consideration, look again. Read adoption websites and blogs, research agencies and programs, talk to other parents. If I haven't done that, I would've missed out on the chance to parent the two people I love most in this world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)