A really long layover… (or a 2-yr home update)

It’s the middle of December and our sweet dude has been home for close to two years – roughly 21 months. And man, what a 21 months it’s been. Has it been what I expected? Well, no. And then again, yes. And also, who knows, really? I think our expectations got thrown out the window on Day 1. Only to be replaced, thrown out again, replaced, thrown out again. I read something early on that said, “Expectations are premeditated resentments.” So we’ve been trying hard to let them go, and yet our humanity renders that nearly impossible. For me, expectations are just so messily entangled with hope, and hope — well, hope is essential in this crazy journey of adoption.

Without a doubt, I can tell you that I’m not the same person I was 21 months ago, or maybe I’m just more aware that I’m not the person I thought I was 21 months ago. Metamorphosis is good, undeniably (especially when it involves learning to be more like Jesus), but it is also painful. And there’s this infamous poem in the special-needs world called “Welcome to Holland” that’s about how when we expect one thing in life but end up with something else, it’s easy to miss the beauty of the thing right in front of us. It’s really, really, really sweet, and if you read it you’ll understand why it’s a staple in so many circles. I can’t imagine how much salve these words have applied to tender mama hearts in the almost thirty years since it was written, and I respect that, truly and deeply. I love that words alone can have such power to heal.


Celebrating World Down Syndrome Day and our sweet  boy’s one-year home anniversary in March 2016.

But if I’m honest, really, brutally honest — there have been so many times in the last twenty one months where I’ve just wanted to scream, “I’m not in *@#&% Holland!!” There are no tulips, or windmills, or cute wooden shoes. No lazy bike rides along the river, or stunning Rembrandt’s to distract us. There are no blonde girls with matching braids and interlocking arms harmonizing folk songs in my ear as I work through the trauma of mothering a child who wasn’t touched for the first three years of his life. I’m just. not. there.

Okay, I know, I KNOW, I’m being a teeny overdramatic. For one, our sweet boy was certainly touched many times in his first few years. He was fed and clothed and had his diapers changed and teeth brushed – he was touched out of physical necessity. But he was a chore, even if well-tended. At the baby house they actually told me (surprised one afternoon that he fell asleep while cozily nestled in my toddler carrier) they couldn’t believe he let me wear him, since he hated to be touched by anyone. Now, if you’ve met our little warrior, you know he ONLY likes to be touched. He doesn’t like to make eye contact or use his teeth or touch food or try new things or walk up stairs or take a bath or play with toys or ride in the car or get dressed or take off shoes or … you get the picture. But touched? Yes, please. All the time, any time. He is ravenous for human connection, but has no idea how to receive it other than through physical contact. I don’t want to imagine what that lack of connection did to his little brain, the damage it wreaked on his innocent and fragile developing psyche.

And I know, full well, that we made a choice to get on this airplane, right? I mean, I actually wanted to go to Holland. I knew it might not be as flashy as New York, and I was aware that it would be more work than laying on a beach in Fiji. But I could see the beauty in it and I was willing to do the work. I understood that I signed up for hard, I did. And yet, I’m just not sure you can ever be prepared for all the things that might go along with that. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I thought it would be different, that I thought he would be different. Sometimes I’ll be following another family’s journey and when I see pictures or videos of their children (with the same diagnosis and from the same country), I’m met head on with this unfulfilled expectation. Oh, I think to myself, I thought he would be more like that….and it’s terribly unfair to the beautiful boy that I love, and so then guilt and shame accompanies those thoughts.

I felt somewhat prepared to handle the difficulties E would face because of his Down syndrome, at least as much as I could be. And truthfully, I think we’ve handled those well. His Down syndrome often feels like a non-issue to me. But I wasn’t ready for what is probably a dual-diagnosis of Down syndrome and autism, and the autism piece of this is very difficult for me honestly. Once when we were in the middle of the adoption process someone ask me if I was nervous about mothering a babe with Down syndrome, and I casually responded that the DS diagnosis just didn’t scare me, that I would be much more worried about my ability to parent a child with say, autism. Ha! And I definintely wasn’t ready for the emotional exhaustion that comes from loving a child with attachment issues. i’m not sure how anyone could be.  And I didn’t even come close to grasping the deep and devastating scars of early childhood trauma. And yet here we are, learning daily how to love him well, maybe love ourselves better in the process.

To further complicate things, it’s impossible to tell where one thing stops and another starts, so I’m constantly asking – is this the Down syndrome? Or is it an autism issue? Or maybe it’s just the effect of his early childhood trauma? Then again, could it be an attachment thing? Should I handle this situation differently depending what’s at play? Is this something that may change over time? Does it even matter? And that vortex of swirling thoughts just creates incredible self-doubt — it’s maddening, really, this inability to help him work through these things. To feel like you don’t really know your own child.  You start to think, “If I was better at loving him, X behavior would be different …” or, “He’d probably be doing so much better with a mama who knew more about X…” No matter how many times you tell yourself that those are lies from the enemy, that the truth is you are the exact mother he needs and family is family and it’s not about your abilities it’s about never giving up on each other, you still start to feel like you’re failing. Failing this kid, failing yourself. And Joyce Meyer says that it’s impossible to enjoy anything when you’re afraid of failing at it. And wow, is that ever true.

So yeah, I’m not in Holland. It turns out I’m actually on a really long layover somewhere else. And I can’t be certain, but it reminds me more of the slums of India (at least what I remember from the painful scenes in Slumdog Millionaire). Although I could be wrong, because I’ve had a hard time picking my head up to look around as I navigate my family through the dark, desperately holding tight to little hands so we don’t trip over the broken glass or step in all the garbage. And the crazy thing is, I actually knew this layover was a possibility. I’d read it on other people’s flight plans. I didn’t go in blind—I read all the things, ha ha, to make sure I was informed and aware of any possibilities. It’s just that somehow I assumed we wouldn’t stop here. I don’t know why, maybe I thought we were lucky. Or, at least I thought if we did, it would be much shorter. Like maybe we would wade through the hard for one or two months and then rock out life after that. Like rocking out life at all times is an attainable goal anyway, right? And I think that in my arrogance, I also thought that if we did stop here, I’d handle it with grace and beauty. I would rise. I would lean hard into Jesus and demonstrate what it’s like to have peace in all things.

But the reality is I’m still selfish. More so than I ever realized. And when things get hard, my tendency is to just try harder, instead of trusting in the One who gives peace. There have been moments honestly where I don’t recognize myself. Moments of anger and frustration that I’m not proud of. And there is something called secondary trauma, which is the idea that regular exposure to their child’s trauma can actually affect parents, and I think there was definitely a period where I was experiencing common secondary trauma symptoms. It’s hard sometimes to reconcile who you want to be and who you currently are. To accept that life is a process, and our emotions and growth modulate and fluctuate and all of that is okay. So yes, there has been impatience and frustration and exhaustion in my heart, but also, there has been love. A fierce love, a mama’s love. And our boy is lucky to also have a Daddy who loves him to the moon and back.

And that love matters. Love doesn’t fix everything, that’s for sure. It’s not a magic potion, a cure-all.  Adoption isn’t a fairy tale.  But love matters. It’s matters to him and it matters to me. And here’s the thing – there is light starting to stream into this place. We are seeing cracks in ceiling, and rays are trickling in. For whatever reason, the last couple of months have brought out changes in our boy. Nothing huge, but little things, and we’ve learned to celebrate the little things. To see the awe and beauty in something that might seem ordinary to someone else. The kids have a book called “Last Stop on Market Street” and these words ricocheted off my heart the other day,

CJ looked around as he stepped off the bus.
Crumbling sidewalks and broken-down doors,
Graffiti-tagged windows and boarded-up stores.
He reached for his Nana’s hand.
“How come it’s always so dirty over here?”

She smiled and pointed to the sky.
“Sometimes when you’re surrounded by dirt, CJ,
you’re a better witness for what’s beautiful.”

CJ saw the perfect rainbow arcing over their soup kitchen.
He wondered how his nana always found beautiful
where he never even thought to look.

There is beauty everywhere. In everything. You just have to look for it. You have to be willing to work for it. Sometimes, in our grief, our exhaustion, our survival-mode, it’s more work that we can handle. But when we catch our breath, when we regain a little strength, it’s time to move forward. To look more closely. Ellis is, without a doubt, a totally different boy than the one we met two years ago. He has worked so hard and come so far, and I’m forever proud to be his mama. And I’m changing too, slowly, but thankfully. More aware of the work to be done in my heart, but grateful for how far I’ve come. Content to be where I am, determined to always keep working.

So there it is –- this is where we’re at almost two years after bringing Ellis home. It’s amazing and it’s agonizing. It’s beautiful and it’s painful. We are great and we are struggling all at the same time. The contradiction is just the reality of it. And it’s possible that one day our layover will end and we might be allowed to head on to Holland. But I think there’s some danger in hoping for that – in wishing you were somewhere else, thinking that place is the promised land. That in a new place things will be as you always imagined. You are where you are. And for me it’s not about finally making it out of here, but about embracing the here, working hard to see the beauty in the place we are right now, being willing to shine a light on the dark places, and trying always to find hope. And I offer that up weakly, not as an expert, not sure of an absolute answer. I am but a fellow weary traveler, trying to figure out the best way to walk this road. I know that I want to walk it with joy, regardless of the condition.

I was recently introduced to the Benedictine rule, “Always, we begin again.” And I think that’s the key for me – knowing I will make mistakes and let my kids (and myself and my husband and other people) down, and they will make mistakes and let me down and things will sometimes be great but sometimes be incredibly hard and that is okay and that doesn’t define us – there is always another chance to do better. His mercies are new every morning.  I have the choice to keep trying. I can’t promise perfection, but I can promise to never quit. As my friend Leonard Cohen pointed out, love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah. Always, we begin again. Always, always, always.


Where We’re At: June 21, 2015 (Three months home)

Our little Boo has been home for three months this week. THREE MONTHS! It really has flown by, and in so many ways it still feels like he is brand new to us. I have been meaning to give an overall update on his progress for over two months now, forgive me. But hey, at least you get lots of information at once!

I got awesome new glasses (that my parents may or may not have already "misplaced") and a cool summer haircut.  Watch out world!

I got awesome new glasses (that my parents may or may not have already “misplaced”) and a cool summer haircut. Watch out world!


When we first got home, Boo couldn’t/wouldn’t drink except from a spoon. This made for a long feeding process, not to mention constant worry of dehydration. It took five full weeks for me to get little man to allow the bottle in his lips, but I felt like we’d won the lottery when it happened. We started with sugary sweet banana Pediasure to sweeten the deal, but now he is just a water man. We are moving away from the bottle and working on a variety of cups. Long term, his speech/feeding therapist would love for him to drink from a straw, because that specific action strengthens his lip muscles and trains his tongue to tuck back into his mouth. But people, the baby drinks. It’s enough.

I make a lot of funny faces while I eat!

I make a lot of funny faces while I eat!

On the food front, he’s actually the best and healthiest eater of our bunch, including Daddy K and I. He will eat absolutely ANYTHING you put in front of him, as long as it’s the right consistency. We still blend most of his food, but I’ve been experimenting with leaving softer foods separate. I recently fed him scrambled eggs, watermelon and avocado all separate on a plate and he did great.

The biggest issue with his feeding is that he still doesn’t chew. So, that means he won’t break down foods. If it’s too big, he will either spit it back out or choke. We are working on getting him to use his teeth, to teach him that he can control food input, move food around, etc.   He basically uses a super strong suckle to get all of his food down. But he eats well, and we are getting into a routine making his food, so it’s not too bad.


The boys became roommates like champs. They have slept in the same room at night and for naps since day one with no issues. They still wake one another up from time to time, but for the most part it’s been seamless. Honestly, I don’t spend a lot of time checking the monitor for any of them anymore, so it’s possible Boo isn’t always sleeping. We move his crib away from the wall so he can’t bang his head, and if he’s rocking super hard we can hear it. But, he is at least resting for naps and through the night. Bug was sick recently, and crying so loud it woke Boo up. I was trying to rock Bug to soothe him, but he kept screaming anyway. Boo woke up, rocked violently and tried to lie back down. Since Bug was still wailing, it was no use. Boo got so frustrated that he started screaming too. He honestly just doesn’t know how to deal with interruptions or how to put himself gently back to sleep. He was very displeased about being woken up at night, ha ha.

I like to push up against all my stuffed animals.

I like to push up against all my stuffed animals.

He still tends to fall asleep if he is overestimated at all. If we’ve been out for the day and he gets cranky, I just pop him into the carrier and he’s out within minutes. Sometimes it’s a great help, and sometimes it makes things tricky. His occupational therapy really wears him out and we usually go to the grocery store immediately after. The grocery store is like a sensory nightmare for him, and he’s asleep by the end of the first aisle. Unfortunately, when he catnaps early in the day he will often resist sleep for his nap.

My mama thought I was working hard on sensory skills, but I was taking a little cat nap!

My mama thought I was working hard on sensory skills, but I was taking a little cat nap!


Boo absolutely LOVES the water. Any water, any place, any time. Lucky for him, it’s water season, so we have spent a lot of time getting wet. At the beach or bay, he loves to sit and have the waves crash over his legs. The harder the waves hit him, the more he laughs. In both pools and the bath, he loves to put his hands on the bottom and then stare at them to figure out how they are actually separate from him. You can see his wheels turning as he tries to understand what water really is. He also loves watching his sister and brother jump in and make a big splash. We are hoping he will be ready for swim lessons next year.

Love getting wet in the sprinklers!

Love getting wet in the sprinklers!

The first “toy” he really gravitated to was an activity mat we pulled out. It has really been a progression. First he would just lie under it motionless (because we put him there), watching the lights. Then we noticed he would actually purposely maneuver  himself under it. One day he started using his feet to knock it down, and then laugh as it popped back up. Recently, he has started grabbing at all of the hanging toys and trying to see how they are different. I actually even think he has been bored with it lately, and is ready for something new. But it has been neat to see him actually interested in playing with something.

It's really fun when all three kids try to cram in :)

It’s really fun when all three kids try to cram in 🙂

We have a vibrating teether from the others kids that we pulled out on a whim one day. Similar to the activity mat, it has been a slow progression. At first he wanted NOTHING to do with it and would turn or scoot away when I tried to show it to him. One day he let me vibrate it in his mouth (you have to apply pretty firm pressure to activate the vibration). Eventually, he used his own teeth to make the vibration happen, but when he was tired, he’d just let it fall out. Finally, he started being willing to USE HIS OWN HANDS (huge in this house!) to hold the teether in place. One day Daddy K noticed him picking up the teether, throwing it, and then climbing after it. He’d pick it up, throw it, repeat. Over and over. He “played” this game for 20–plus minutes. It was literally the first time we had seen him entertain himself. He now does this same game with a ball at one of his therapist offices, so we ordered him a light up, vibrating ball for his birthday.

I'm also nuts about the bubble machine!

I’m also crazy about the bubble machine!

But mama had to cut back my time, because I started trying to eat the machine every time!

But mama had to cut back my time, because I started trying to eat the machine every time!

He is nuts about the iPhone or iPad, but I think it’s mostly just the light. He just wants to put his face against the screen and zone out. We would used this particular “dot” game on the IPad for a while when he was having a hard time relaxing. We would put the iPad on the ottoman and let him lean against the screen with his face down. We figured at least he was working his leg muscles and not hurting himself in any way. It is still a type of stimming for him, but it’s definitely the lesser of two evils.



He also has a terrific relationship with our Ikea stools. I think it’s just because of the dot pattern on the top, but he will crawl over to them and giggle. He will pull up on them, laugh, sit down, repeat. Just this week he actually started picking the smaller one up in the air and inspecting it. Baby steps, but for a boy who didn’t willingly move on his own, it’s great to see this kind of progress.


Honestly, it’s really hard to tell exactly how bonding is going. On one hand, he definitely responds much better to people in general. Little dude LOVES to be held, and would be content if someone held him all day. Considering that they told me at the orphanage that he didn’t like to be touched, I’d say we’ve come a long way. It breaks my heart a little bit to think of him not being touched for so long, and how he probably desperately wanted/needed that but had no way to communicate that to his caregivers. The longer you go without touch, the harder it is to accept at the beginning. You can tell in this picture with his Auntie Jessica that he doesn’t really “help” her hold him at all. That was after he had been with us for about a week. He was just kind of limp and would let you do all the work. Now he snuggles in and tightens his arms and legs – clearly interested in making sure his holding session doesn’t end.

Initial "holding" of Boo was so hard, because he was basically limp in your arms!

Initial “holding” of Boo was so hard, because he was basically limp in your arms!

The hard part is that he doesn’t necessarily care WHO holds him, so he’d be just as content with a stranger as he is with Daddy K and I. He definitely recognizes us, but I’m not sure he understands yet that we are his people. On a good note, he absolutely loves to be worn in the Tula. If I start to strap it around my waist, he will crawl over to me. When he is being worn, he constantly looks up and makes good eye contact, and he is content for long periods of time. He gets lots of practice in it as we traipse all over town to various appointments, not to mention to swimming and gymnastics for his siblings. But it’s a good sign (to me at least), that he enjoys being close to his mama.

Snug as a bug in a rug!

Snug as a bug in a rug!

He definitely is a million times more alert and engaged three months in. I can remember that when we first met him, it seemed like his eyes were hardly open – he just wasn’t that interested in what was going on around him. Now he constantly makes eye contact and looks around and checks things out. His smiles comes super easily, and over the last few weeks we have noticed he has started to laugh at things that are funny, not only in response to physical touch. It doesn’t happen often, but it DOES happen, which is a big step forward.

I'm not sure who this is, but she doesn't seem to leave until I pay her a little attention.

I’m not sure who this is, but she doesn’t seem to leave until I pay her a little attention.


On the medical side, he is actually doing great. We got a clean bill of health from the cardiologist, who actually said his heart is pretty perfect! We never have to go back, so it’s nice to cross one major thing off the list. We also saw a pediatric ophthalmologist, and Boo’s main eye issue is a condition called nystagmus, which is essentially involuntary movement of the eyes. If you watch closely, you can see that his eyes sort of shake back and forth. He is also a tiny bit far-sighted, and between his low muscle-tone and nystagmus, the eye doctor wanted to see if glasses would help him. It’s hard to say for sure, but we feel like it has been good for him.

Learning to wear my new glasses!  Mama ordered a second pair, since my first pair is currently hiding!

Learning to wear my new glasses! Mama ordered a second pair, since my first pair is currently hiding!

We JUST has his sedated ear cleaning/tube insertion/hearing test. If you feel like gagging, you can Google impacted ear wax removal and watch some gross videos to get an idea of what took place. Basically, his ear canals were both totally full of hard wax, and it took the ENT quite a bit of time to clear them. Once they were clean, she still noticed quite a bit of fluid in his ears, so she opted to place a couple tubes. The audiologists went to work after that, and we will get a full report on their findings in two weeks (at our follow-up). The ENT mentioned briefly that his right ear was almost completely normal, and it seemed like his left ear might have some conductive hearing loss. Although she mentioned she thought that still might be the after-effects of the massive fluid build-up in his ear. Still on the fence in the ear department, but honestly, we feel like he hears fairly well. They did take ear molds in case they need to build hearing aids for him later.

He has been climbing the growth charts slowly and steadily. We had a little setback at the beginning where he dropped some pounds, but now he seems to be growing every day. He has gained 3-4 lbs and grown about an inch/inch and a half since coming home. He has started filling out, and honestly just is starting to seem much more like a little toddler than a baby. His body control is SO MUCH BETTER, especially his head.


Technically, we should be having therapy for four hours each week. It was recommended that he have Occupational Therapy twice a week, for an hour each time, Physical Therapy once a week for an hour, and Speech Therapy once a week for an hour. For now, the Speech Therapy is mainly focused on feeding therapy, which is why it’s an hour once a week. Once we get feeding rolling, we will move to focusing on speech, which is more likely to be 30 minutes, twice a week.

In reality, our PT is really good, so that means it’s hard to get in her schedule. So we have only had a couple of PT sessions. And I just can’t make OT twice a week right now, so we only go once. So basically, we see OT and Speech each week right now. Trust me, it’s enough. 🙂 One of his biggest issues that we focus on in OT is his sensory processing, specifically his proprioceptive and vestibular issues. The proprioceptive sense basically tells you where your body is in space, and little man has a super hard time with this. It’s most likely a combination of his extremely low muscle tone and the lack of much movement in his early life. A sort of vicious cycle really. But it’s been good to see how he reacts in a different setting and with a different “coach.” The more familiar he becomes with his rooms and the specific tasks she usually does, the better he responds. For PT, she wants to work on strengthening his core and trying to re-teach him how to align his spine. He kinds of slumps over when sitting and hangs his head even when standing. So we are working on getting him to hold his head up and trying to develop his little baby core. He’s come a long way, and will crawl around the house much more now to explore, pick up certain things he comes across, and pull up onto many of his favorite chairs.

I like to walk if you're holding my hands!

I like to walk if you’re holding my hands!

In speech therapy, we have basically just been doing a lot of different things to try and engage his teeth. He craves oral input, but just does not want to use his teeth for eating. We think it was mostly a survival issue – he was fed large portions of food in VERY short periods of time, and he basically learned to do a hard swallow to get everything down in time before the next bite came. We are trying to teach him that food can be fun and that it’s okay if it moves around to all parts of his mouth. His therapist has also been working on lip and tongue exercises with him to help him with his tongue thrust. This is important for both eating and speech.

My speech therpaist says my faces are partly because I'm working so hard to get food down.  Eating is all business for me!

My speech therpaist says my faces are partly because I’m working so hard to get food down. Eating is all business for me!


We get asked a lot how Sissy and Bug are doing with their new brother. I remember reading somewhere when I was pregnant with Bug that it takes children two and under only six weeks before they forget there wasn’t ever a new sibling around (Sissy was only 20 months when he was born, so I’d remind myself that after 6 weeks she’d forget it had ever only been her). Even though they are both a bit older, I honestly think they have already forgotten he wasn’t always a part of our family. Bug for sure doesn’t really seem to remember (or care about) life before him. One afternoon Boo fell asleep for nap a little early so I just put him in his crib and let him sleep. Of course, that meant he woke up before Bug, and I snuck him out of the room before he could wake up his brother. When Bug woke up from his own nap an hour later, he was crying really hard. I went in and asked what was wrong and he was just crying and saying, “My brudda, my brudda not here. I sleep with my brudda!” He was so sad that his brother was gone when he woke up – he is really very sweet and tender toward Boo. Today, we were getting ready to walk over to a neighbor’s pool and we called to Bug to get going. When Daddy K came around the corner to see why he wasn’t coming, he was sitting with Boo, trying to pull him up, saying, “Let’s go.” Then he looked at us all sad and said, “You forgot my brudda.”

The boys love to play together, and Boo will often try to wrestle Bug!

The boys love to play together, and Boo will often try to wrestle Bug!

Sissy mostly seems ambivalent about it all. I think to her, he’s just another brother. She loves to try and help take care of him, but she makes him a little nervous so he tends to cry when she does something with him. I think she doesn’t understand why he doesn’t want to play with her, so she gets sad. But she is really perceptive, and she’ll watch him and actually notice if he likes something. She understands that he doesn’t enjoy a lot of things yet and she will tell me, “Look, he is laughing!” We were also having a talk with her one night about how you can’t use certain words to describe people because they aren’t nice. She genuinely just didn’t get what we were saying or understand why people would care, and I said, “Well, what if someone made fun of Boo? If they just kept saying mean things about him over and over? How would you feel?” She looked at me like I was the un-smartest person she has even met and asked, “Mom, why would anyone make fun of Boo?” Duh.


So, since our one month home post was all about my heart in this, I figured I’d give a brief update here as well. I recently read a quote from Dr. Karyn Purvis, one of the leading researchers in regards to interventions/response for at-risk children, sometimes referred to as children from “hard” places. She said, “It is not you against this child. It is you and this child against this child’s history.” I have a multitude of her (and colleagues) work – books and videos – but it’s not super easy to find the time to work through it. But that reminder was so good for me. Because this is seriously hard work – this mothering a child from a hard place. Unfortunately, it’s really easy to get super frustrated at the difficulty of it all. And when I get frustrated, I tend to feel combative. For some reason, I’m ready for a fight. And naturally I mistakenly start to believe that my fight is with this child – because he is the person right in front of me. And if you know me, you know I like to win. Basically, I’m saying I can be a real jerk.  So it’s been (still is) a process of learning to let things go, accepting that I can’t control his behaviors, nor how fast he heals from past hurts. Shockingly, it’s not about me! 🙂 There IS a battle going on, but I’m in it WITH him, not against him. But, it’s just hard not to be able to immediately make things better.

My motley crew!

My motley crew!

I also read an article recently about all of the feel-good stories about kids with disabilities (and specifically Down Syndrome). Not that all of those stories aren’t awesome, because they are – I love them. But this article talked about the message that might send to families whose children will never reach that same level of success – because disability is a spectrum. And it kind of cautioned that we might be unintentionally ascribing worth to our children based on how close to “normal” they become. And I think there is some truth to that. But a person’s life, a person’s value – it’s not dependent on whether or not they fit nicely into society. They have worth and value simply because they are alive. And I think I subconsciously was hoping Boo would start acting “normal” pretty quickly – and when he continues to exhibit hard behaviors (self-harming, whining, learned helplessness, etc), I have a hard time reconciling the reality of where we are with what I had hoped for. Daddy K and I laughed the other day over the fact that we actually can’t wait until his Down Syndrome is the only thing we have to worry about. But it’s a good lesson on what it really means to CHOOSE love. On what it means to be family.

Every day that you do the hard things that you don’t want to do — you’re building the family you always wanted to have … That’s what family means: People love you & keep on holding on to you especially when you’re not loveable. 
Ann Voskamp

Boo didn’t ask for or deserve any of the trauma life has given him. What he needs now is for us to be patient, to be gentle, to be kind. Even when we don’t feel like it. Maybe especially when we don’t feel like it.  We already don’t recognize the little boy we see in the pictures from his orphanage. I’m excited about the possibilities for the little boy we will meet in the coming months.

Worth it.

Worth it.

Please see them…

So, this post is going to be a little be different. This is going to be my first “advocacy” post, where I beg you to read about a couple of children that my heart aches for. As a verb, advocate is to “recommend publicly,” and as a noun, “a person who pleads for or in behalf of another; intercessor.” The thing is, there are a couple of kids that I just can’t shake. Some because I actually met them – I laughed with them and watched them and briefly loved them. And some for unexplainable reasons – my heart is just drawn to them and can’t let them go.

I’m going to tell you their stories. Because their stories make them real. Because they ARE real. And they deserve to be seen, if only here on the lonely pages of the internet. And you might be thinking, “Well, we never plan to adopt, so I’ll just skip on past this post and catch back up when there are more pictures of that adorable baby.” Please read it anyway. For them. Simply SEE them, if nothing else.

But you could also pray for them. You could donate to their funds or share their stories (and it’s only the tiniest of things we get to know about them, sadly). If you know anyone considering adopting, you could show them their pictures. You could honestly and earnestly ask God what He is asking from you, and then, at least for now, only pretend to listen. 🙂 He’ll keep asking — trust me, I’ve learned.

But really, some of it is selfish. I’m also advocating for these kids for me. To get the weight of their eyes off my chest and my heart, the weight of their lives of my soul. I have to do this – speak for them. I promised myself one night in a little room while we were traveling to adopt Boo…I wrote down their names in a notebook, and resolved to share them until they are truly found. So read it for me, help me carry the weight. Amplify my voice. Every child belongs in a family. And we can’t save them all. But these ones, these ones have my heart.

I read this anecdotal story about a Christian man in Nazi Germany during the Holocaust. He said that the trains carrying Jewish people to their deaths would run by their church on Sundays, and they could hear the cries and screams of the people (begging for help and mercy) as it passed the sanctuary. Eventually, it got to the point that when they heard the train whistle, they all just began to sing louder, to block out the noise that tormented them. He is relaying the story many years later, and he says he can still hear that train whistle in his sleep. Tormented now by the fact that they did nothing to intervene.

Truthfully, I’m not sure if this is a true story – I couldn’t track it down to a reliable source. But it stuck in my mind so clearly, so tangibly, that I wanted to share it anyway. This is the train whistle, friends. We can’t pretend we don’t know there is a need, and we can’t just sing louder because it makes us feel better. Children are depending on us to do better.



Maddie is a beautiful little girl who turned nine last month. Nine long years without a family. She was born with a congenital heart defect that has since been repaired, and she is listed as have a moderate mental delay. There are only two updates about her – one from when she was four and another one from when she was seven. When she was four, they described her as a “mother’s helper,” always helping others and cleaning up messes. Although she had an unsteady walk, she was determined to be independent, and often sang loudly in her own little language. This girl moves to the beat of her own drum, and her spirit is strong. When she was seven, it was noted that she began to attend school, as a bus would take her to and from institution.

Can you imagine what that feels like? To have your “stop” be an orphanage. When my brother and I were children (I was in the second grade), we lived in one of the wealthiest school districts in our city. Only, we weren’t wealthy. We lived in the last street in the district, in a small, brown house with our single, working mom. As children, we couldn’t understand that there was nothing wrong with our house. I actually have great memories from that particular house.   But to us, it was small. And it was brown. Some kids called it the poop house. And when you know (or you think) that all the kids on your bus live in huge houses, it makes you self-conscious. The house next door, however, we deemed respectable. (It’s funny because I’ve driven down that street as an adult and there is really no difference between the two). But every day, my brother and I would get off the bus and walk slowly to the neighbors front door, praying they weren’t home and waiting for the bus to pull away. Then we’d run over to our house and go inside. My heart aches for how Maddie must feel everyday, reminded that all the other kids are going somewhere she can only dream of: home.

But she likes school, and if she is in interested in what she is doing and has good motivation, they report she does well. This sweet girl needs a family, and she needs a family fast. Statistics aren’t Maddie’s friend. Orphans who “age out” of the institution face a bleak future. The numbers show that 10-15% commit suicide before the age of 18, and 70% of the boys become criminals to survive. The aged-out girls however, face a different fate: because they are poor, uneducated and unskilled, they are the perfect target for human traffickers. More than 60% of the girls are forced into prostitution. Combine those numbers with the fact that Maddie is not only truly beautiful, but has a slight mental delay, and my heart shudders at the thought of what will happen to her.

Please see her.


ZekeOh, this precious boy. I had the privilege of meeting him, and I can tell you he is one clever little dude. His file lists all sorts of diagnoses that would scare many families off, but quite honestly, I’m not sure they are accurate. Obviously, I’m not a doctor, and I’m not HIS doctor, and I have no way of know the intricate details of his care. But I met a little boy with what appeared to be mild cerebral palsy and traces of FAS, who was determined enough to figure out a way to walk, and played amongst all the other boys (leaping from couches nonetheless) with no issues. When I first arrived in his room, I taught him to fist bump and blow it up. We only did it once, maybe twice, and then something else happened and other kids needed attention and that was it. But when I left an hour and a half later, he remembered it perfectly. He is very attached to a young woman who volunteers her time at the orphanage., and he kept looking to her for assurance, for validation. It is actually a fantastic sign that he has formed such a close relationship, and bodes well for his ability to form secure attachments throughout his life. He was also “reading” me books, and he is one of those children who notice everything about a page, and want all the details explained and examined and corroborated. Unfortunately, next year Zeke will be moved from his baby house to a home for older children. This type of move is very traumatic for children, because it separates them from everyone and everything they have ever known.

I’m telling you though, this boy has a LIGHT. A spark, something beautiful. He will bloom with a mama’s love. The volunteer basically changed her entire life to be with him. She met him as a toothy toddler and fell head over heels, returning to his orphanage during the summers to volunteer. Eventually (after college), she moved from the US to Lithuania in order to be with him full time. As a single woman, working toward a visa in order to secure employment, she is unable to adopt Zeke (and will be for the foreseeable future), and yet she loves him all the same. That is just the type of boy is he – he draws you in.

Please see him.



This sweet little man is a bundle of energy! Not long ago, his reports stated that he was not steady while walking, but the boy I saw had full control of his body. When I first arrived in his room, he ran immediately to me and jumped up in my arms. He was all wiggle, so I started jumping up and down with him in my arms and he just laughed. He would have done this for the rest of the day. He is however, pretty strong for a little dude, so I think he would probably be best in a family with no small children. Not because he showed ANY inclination of hurting others, but just because he will definitely require a watchful eye. My heart breaks for Heinrich, because he is not cute and cuddly anymore. He has passed the point where his transition to top-notch therapy and care would have made an immediate difference, and he needs a family willing to work hard to find his best potential. But he has made significant gains recently – he has the potential in there! And his file says that he lacks the motivation to make an activity – and this sentence literally kills me. I’m sure they said the same about our Boo. But why WOULD there be motivation? There is no one to cheer you on, reward you, believe in you, and never leave you. No one who will always be there, no matter how hard it gets. What is motivating about the same four walls, a rotation of caregivers (who, even though loving, are transitory and BUSY), and a future with a foregone conclusion. If no one expects anything from you, you are likely to meet that expectation.

Heinrich is a diamond in the rough, and he desperately needs someone to believe in him.

Please see him.



You guys, I don’t know what it is about this girl, but I just love her so much. That smile just stops my heart every time. Olivia will be ten this year, and her chances of being adopted go down with each passing month. Sweet Olivia walks and uses the restroom independently, and is totally able to perform the morning exercises with the other children. I die picturing this. They say she is kind and helpful to other children, and her agency has a lot more pictures and information about her. She hasn’t had an update since 2012, which usually means that no one has asked about her. This sweet, beautiful girl who loves crafting – stringing beads, coloring and more. The good news is that Olivia is in a good orphanage that is sponsored by Half the Sky. She goes to preschool, and even receives physical therapy. She loves to show off her good work to her teachers, and they love to give her praise because she will laugh happily and clap her hands.

Her files ends with the words: She is restless and brave.

SHE IS RESTLESS AND BRAVE! Do you hear me??!! She needs a family to start a new life where she has opportunity to grow and learn and love and live. She needs a mama to brush her hair, and teach her sign language, and read her books and sing her goodnight. I just have a feeling about this one friends == she is going to rock your world!

Please see her.



And last, but not least, my sweet Ryan. This is the boy with the megawatt smile we designed the t-shirts for, the boy who I shared around Christmas. This little dude is still waiting, and he will be five this summer. Five is still such a baby! He recently got some new specs, and I’m not sure he can be any cuter! Ryan has a repaired heart defect, and mild asthma, and as of this spring he was already getting dressed and undressed alone, as well as eating independently. My facilitator said he is an awesome little dude, and I wanted so badly to give him some love! He gets along and plays with the other children and is very friendly to adults. Ryan is at a perfect age to come home – ready to get started with preschool and kindergarten and have someone finally willing to discover all he is really capable of. Ryan is interested in anything, and he would fit well in any family. This boy has my heart, friends.

Please see him.

I know it can feel hopeless to see all these faces and know they only represent more. But there is always Hope, always Love, always Grace. Choose one of these children and pray for them – find ways to raise money for their funds. Share their faces and help find their families. Just choose one. In his book Radical, David Platt says, “We learned that orphans are easier to ignore before you know their names. They are easier to ignore before you see their faces. It is easier to pretend they’re not real before you hold them in your arms. But once you do, everything changes…”

 ***If you click on their names, you can go to their personal page for more information or donate directly to their funds.***

***If you are interested in more information on any of these children, please contact Reece’s Rainbow and they will put you in touch with the appropriate agency!***

Fake it ’til you make it…

If you ask me how everything is going, I will most likely tell you, “It’s pretty good, actually,” with only the slightest of hesitations. And I mostly believe that, except there is evidence that my body/mind are more taxed than I realize. Little things give me away, like forgetting to respond to or send important emails, return food dishes, or make appointments. And while I’m usually the person who lies awake for at least 45 minutes every night just thinking, right now I’m sleeping like a rock. It’s interesting because I don’t FEEL stressed, and I can’t even really describe exactly what it is that is hard about adoption for us. And yet, I WILL hesitate slightly, mostly because I hate being insincere. So I thought maybe if I wrote it all down, it would help flush the demons from my head.

It’s hard honestly, to even admit that I’m struggling. Realistically, we are pretty lucky with how easy our transition has been. The boys’ sleep issues shook out within a couple weeks, and I have THREE small children who take naps at the same time each day. And sleep for the same amount of time each night. That alone is amazing. And Sissy and Bug are handling everything well, with only expected minor jealousy issues and an increased desire for Mama cuddles. Boo isn’t old enough to exhibit challenging behaviors that many families often face, like lying, or stealing, or food hoarding. So I think I feel a little bit guilty even trying to put words to my struggle, when I know in perspective it could be so much worse.

But I said I would be honest here, and so I’ll do my best to articulate the catch in my response. I think a lot of it has to do with expectations. I recently read a poignant piece about attachment in adoption titled Love is Patient, and even typing that out stings a little because I think that’s a huge part of my problem. Love is patient and I am not. And she talks about how our expectations can often be so unfair to our children, and she quotes Beth Guckenberger who says, “Expectations are premeditated resentments.” And before our sweet Boo came home, I just couldn’t really grasp this. I read all about attachment and how important it was not to expect your child to be grateful, and to be willing to give them time and space to heal from their trauma. And I nodded in agreement, underlined and highlighted the important parts, and thought smugly to myself, “I won’t do that to him.”

And yet, being in the THICK of it is entirely different than reading about it. All the research in the world can’t prepare you for the emotional toll of bringing a child from a hard place into your home and your heart and committing to loving them forever. It’s a roller coaster, and I honestly don’t mind the ride, I just wish I could see the curves coming. What I am learning over and over again, is that I HAVE to remember that it’s not about us. About what we want or need or think he should be doing. About how we’d like him to respond in any given situation, or like him NOT to respond in another. We need to spend way less time thinking about what we hope he will one day be doing and just start watching what he IS doing. Studying him, learning him, trying to figure out what is going on is that beautiful little head. And we have some days where we are great at that. And others, not so much. The reality is, it’s exhausting.

And I find myself frustrated with him for behaviors I FULLY knew to expect, and which are totally normal for a child with his background. And then I’m frustrated with myself for that frustration. And many, many more experienced mamas have said to give yourself grace in these early months – lots of it. To be gentle on myself as everyone transitions. And I take that to heart and I’m trying, but if I’m completely honest, I’m disappointed in myself.

And I can’t nail down exactly why. I think maybe it’s similar to motherhood in general. I had two children 20 months apart and those first few years nearly wrecked me. I’m a processor – I have a deep need to understand WHY I feel how I do, where it comes from, and what I can do to make it better. And as I struggled through the trials of being a first-time mama, I often asked myself, “Did I secretly think this was going to be easy?” But guys, the answer is no. The answer is worse. I didn’t think it would be easy, I thought I would be better at it. And it’s humbling to admit that.

And maybe it is similar with our adoption – I KNEW it was going to be hard, but I thought I’d be better at it. Being prepared for the hard and walking through the hard are not the same animal – why I haven’t learned this by now I have no idea. And maybe that’s the rub, that I actually thought I could do this in my own flesh. I thought, however subconsciously, that I’ve “got” this.   I learned in my first year as a mama that parenting on my knees was the only way I’d survive, yet somehow I convinced myself I could take this challenge standing. Pride is a sneaky idol, and families are the enemy’s playground.

Sometimes, our expectations sneak up on us, because they were actually created by a past reaction to something. For instance, one night at bedtime I rubbed Boo’s back while I was singing and he smiled. He liked it (or so I thought). The next night when I went to rub his back, he turned and moved away. I was irritated, and resentful, because I suddenly expected him to enjoy my touch. Do you see how complex this is emotionally?  We are learning what it truly means to be selfless, as if marriage and our other two haven’t been lessons enough. But we have to love him exactly as he is RIGHT NOW, and not love him for who we want him to be, or who we hope he’ll become. I have realized that I am actually less loving toward him when he doesn’t respond the way I believe he should. Right now, he doesn’t need, doesn’t deserve, and certainly can’t handle any expectations. Especially unfair ones.

I remind myself, “What if God only loved me when I acted how he wanted?” I can’t even imagine how that would look, how many times I’ve responded in a way that is less than pleasing. But he doesn’t turn away or respond in anger. Isaiah 42:3 says, “A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.” Our tiny, weak reed, our flickering, wavering candle – what he needs is for us to be gentle. With our words, with our hands, with our voices.

Unfortunately, gentleness is not always my first response. Life with three kids four and under, a husband who travels, and two needy animals is naturally chaotic. I am learning every day that I can either embrace that chaos and make it beautiful, or resist it and watch things wither. A sweet friend (who has also recently adopted) shared with me that God is teaching her that our children are give to us to disciple and nurture, NOT to control. That really struck a chord with me. He’s not asking me to control them, but to shepherd them. I struggle constantly with control, my wild need for it, and my lack thereof. Loving Boo is no different, and learning to let go of my instinct to control all three of my children is both terrifying and liberating.

For me, I’m trying to remember that bonding with Sissy and Boo was also difficult at the beginning. It’s doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to others. It took time for us to learn one another and for them to become more responsive and interactive before I felt a deeper connection. Boo is no different. It can be difficult because his emotions tend to the extremes. He is either laughing (because of physical touch), crying (really, it’s screaming), or totally blank. And it’s harder now, almost five weeks in, to still struggle so much with bonding. I think at first it was easier to handle, because we had just SEEN where he’d been, and he was new to us, and we didn’t have expectations. But they creep up on you, those premeditated resentments and subconscious desires. Thankfully (hopefully!), I think Daddy K and I are finally realizing this is a long game, and we can’t rush or force things.

Once Daddy K was hanging out with him in the living room and then came into the kitchen alone. I asked him if the baby was okay and he replied, “Oh, he’s good. We were just playing for a while but then all I wanted to do was wrestle him so I knew it was time to give him some space.” That might sound funny, but it’s a perfect description of how we feel interacting with him.   We know there is no way to buy back the lost time. To erase the trauma of his first few years. But somehow we want to. We want to heal him, instantaneously, and so we often try to hard.   Those first few crucial formative years, the ability to give and receive love easily, basic trust in other people – that was all stolen from him. There is no quick fix, and we are learning to accept the reality that it will take years to recover from those wounds.

But we won’t stop trying. We are also becoming new in this process – we are becoming better parents, better people, better partners. We are becoming acutely aware of our own shortcomings and our desperate need for the grace of our Father.

And yesterday I read another article that talked about the most important part of healthy attachment – taking care of yourself. I think it’s time to revisit the advice to give myself grace, and remember I’m just as important to my God as sweet Boo. The author said, “We champion and cry that our kids are worth fighting for while we forget that we are, too. We need to put our air masks on first — take a breath… and then take care of our precious ones.”

We are making, friends, we are making it. Thanks for hearing my heart. All is grace.

Where We’re At: March 27, 2015 (One Weekish Home)

Again, sorry to those of you who actually follow this blog but don’t know me on Facebook! I tend to update in our group there more frequently, so if you are interested, feel free to request to join the FB group “the right to hold you.”

As a quick update on the remainder of our trip, I think I last posted when we were waiting for a court decision. That Monday afternoon, we found out the judge granted our adoption, as well as our request for urgent execution. My friend Jessica arrived late Monday night and we headed out early Tuesday for Kaunas, our Boo’s birth city, as well as the city his baby house was in. We went first to the city registry with our adoption decree to apply for a new birth certificate. In Lithuania, after an adoption they create an entirely new birth certificate with the adoptive parents listed. It seemed crazy to me at first, but now I think it’s pretty cool. Then we went to the orphanage to visit and say our goodbyes to everyone for a bit. Once the birth certificate was ready, we went to pick it up and grab lunch, then headed back to spring my main man.

Looking spiffy if the first clothes the only belonged to me!  His caregivers loved his fancy tie :)

Looking spiffy if the first clothes the only belonged to me! His caregivers loved his fancy tie 🙂

Mama's helping me walk out of this place!

Mama’s helping me walk out of this place!

Freedom.  And a beautiful spring day to boot.

Freedom. And a beautiful spring day to boot.

Mama got a little carried away outside, she was so happy.

Mama got a little carried away outside, she was so happy.

We left the orphanage and headed back to the capital city of Vilnius, where we spent the next week completing what is often referred to as the “paper chase.” We had to get a passport for Boo, as well as apply for and receive a U.S. Visa. Usually we would also have had to visit the Embassy doctor, but luckily we had taken care of that earlier in our trip. So we spent a week exploring Vilnius, celebrating Lithuania’s (second) Independence Day, and getting to know our new little man.

Boo loved this little area and would sit and stare out all day.  He loves light, and will move toward it if he can.  He WASN'T pleased I had him stand up, but having a mama is hard work!

Boo loved this little area and would sit and stare out all day. He loves light, and will move toward it if he can. He WASN’T pleased I had him stand up, but having a mama is hard work!

The place on the left is our apartments, and it was in a really great part of town.  Vilnius is a beautiful city!

The place on the left is our apartments, and it was in a really great part of town. Vilnius is a beautiful city!

My first parade.  Celebrating my country's independence the day after mine!

My first parade. Celebrating my country’s independence the day after mine!

I love a parade; The tramping of feet, I love ever beat I hear of a drum. I love a parade; When I hear a band I just wanna stand And cheer as they come!

I love a parade;
The tramping of feet,
I love ever beat
I hear of a drum.
I love a parade;
When I hear a band
I just wanna stand
And cheer as they come!

Crazy hair man.  Also, not a fan of the toothbrush.

Crazy hair man. Also, not a fan of the toothbrush.

Playground with mommy! The first time they tried to put me on a slide, I flopped around and acted like i'd fall off.  Just a couple weeks later, I showed off and pulled myself down!

Playground with mommy! The first time they tried to put me on a slide, I flopped around and acted like i’d fall off. Just a couple weeks later, I showed off and pulled myself down!

We were finally issued our Visa on Tuesday, March 17 and scrambled to change our tickets to come home Wednesday. Late Tuesday afternoon I got an email letting me know our airline carrier (Lufthansa) was going on strike and my flight was cancelled. Ha! So I scrambled some more and was able to switch airlines (albeit add an extra leg), and ensure Boo man and I were going to make it home Wednesday. I was done being away from my family, and just ready to snuggle my littles and get our new life started. We arrived home to Florida around 7:30 pm on Wednesday night. Boo and I had woken up around 3:30 am Wednesday morning, and this landing put us around 2:30 am the following day. We were both beyond exhausted, but so happy to finally be home.

It's WAY to early to wake up.  Can you just dress me while I sleep?

It’s WAY to early to wake up. Can you just dress me while I sleep?

Listen lady, plane or no plane, keep my belly full and everything will be all right!

Listen lady, plane or no plane, keep my belly full and everything will be all right!

Silly mommy, you thought I was going to sleep on this 9+ hour flight?

Silly mommy, you thought I was going to sleep on this 9+ hour flight?

He finally, FINALLY, gave it up to the sandman.

He finally, FINALLY, gave it up to the sandman.

Immigration selfie.  The lines and wait were atrocious, but little dude slept in his carrier the entire time.  Mama was d.o.n.e. at this point.

Immigration selfie. The lines and wait were atrocious, but little dude slept in his carrier the entire time. Mama was d.o.n.e. at this point.

So, now we have officially been home just over a week. I can hardly believe it has already been a week. We were super lucky that Chris was off last Thursday and Friday, so we had four full days to adjust as a family. This week is actually Spring Break for the kids’ preschool, which is a huge blessing, because it means I don’t have to rush anywhere in the morning or worry about logistics of school pick-up. It’s been a sweet time of just figuring out our new dynamic and learning how to be a mama of THREE.

Why does this girl keep touching me?

Why does this girl keep touching me?

Why does this dog keep touching me?

Why does this dog keep touching me?

Why do these people keep touching me?

Why do these people keep touching me?

Overall, I’d say Boo is doing fantastic. At least, considering that his entire world has been turned upside down and nothing he knew to be true has remained. He doesn’t understand the language we are speaking, realistically he has no idea who we even are, and no one he has relied on for the first 2.5 years of his life is showing up anymore. He has rolled with everything, and adjusted remarkably well to all the changes. Even his sleep patterns were relatively undisturbed, and in the apartment he still took a 2-hour naps and slept a good 10-12 hours each night.

He and Bug have actually transitioned to sharing a room better than I expected. There are two downfalls – Bug hasn’t fallen asleep for his nap for the last four days, so he is fairly noisy as he passes the time until his clock turns yellow. Luckily, Boo has been sleeping through this time, and possibly sleeping for too long. It’s been a 2-3 hour nap each day, and we often have to wake him. That leads to our second problem – Boo has been waking up and talking to himself (loudly!) around 4-5 am every morning. We are just giving both issues time, and hoping (praying) it’s just the transition and everything will soon shake out.

Also, when he's had enough, he kindly folds himself in half and goes to sleep. Ha!

Also, when he’s had enough, he kindly folds himself in half and goes to sleep. Ha!

Even if we are outside.

Even if we are outside.

Boo doesn’t cry out when he wakes up, which is really sad, but also made it a little tricky to figure out his sleep patterns at first. In the apartment he would just start rocking, and if I was in the room with him it would wake me up. If it was nap time, I would just try to listen for the crib moving. Once, I fell asleep in the other room (I was emotionally drained while in country so it affected me physically) during nap and a baby a floor above me cried out. I instinctively jumped out of bed and ran to his door, then stopped to listen. Dead silence. Oh yeah, I thought, my baby doesn’t cry. It as a sad moment, but I would say this has probably actually been helpful in the transition to room sharing for Bug.

Hanging out before bed.

Hanging out before bed.

So, what are the hardest parts of being home? Well, honestly it is just hard to watch Boo do his thing. He has many behaviors that are typical for children who have lived their entire life in an institution, but understanding their roots and not being heartbroken by them are two different things. He does a lot of “stimming,” which is what it is called when a child self-stimulates or self-soothes in a particular way. Essentially, long-term neglect of a child’s basic emotional needs forces them to learn ways to “take care” of themselves, and they often do this by stimming. These can manifest in many different ways, but for Boo it’s mostly head-banging, rocking (with varying degrees of aggressiveness), and noisemaking.

His only goal right now is our home is self-preservation, and nothing but time will heal the wounds in his psyche. It’s a hard thing to watch, and even harder to not try to force myself on him, desperately hoping we will miraculously have a quick fix. It’s a lesson in patience, and humility, and really learning that none of this has even been about me. Just loving him doesn’t automatically change him, and we have to learn how to meet him where he is at and create an environment that feels safe.

My pajamas are really so cute, but I need another picture like I need a tooth pulled, so please give me some space lady!

My pajamas are really so cute, but I need another picture like I need a tooth pulled, so please give me some space lady!

Physically, the biggest obstacle is his eating. I didn’t anticipate this for some reason, and I’m not sure if that is why it seems like a bigger challenge for me. Boo doesn’t actually drink anything. In the orphanage, they would give him fluid by tilting his head up with a towel underneath and pouring it in until he swallowed. He would obviously start swallowing because he would otherwise choke. (They wouldn’t have let him choke, obviously, but he had no way to know this). This has left him terrified of drinking from any type of cup or spout. In order to get him fluid, we have been spoon feeding him water. He also will only eat if spoon-fed. He tucks his hands deep into his chair during meals and just waits for you to bring the spoon to him. When Daddy K makes him work a little by only putting the spoon right on his lips and not IN his mouth, he begrudgingly takes a bite and then glares at him. Ha! He definitely has some spunk. We’ve had to work on adjusting the thickness of his food, because he also has terrible reflux. We are noticing that if we keep his food on the mushier side, he’s a lot less likely to spit up. On the plus side, he isn’t really picky about what food we give him, as long as the texture is how he likes it. So we have been doing oats with fruit, a grain (rice, cous cous, orzo) with either fruit or veggies, and then a mashed veggie (cauliflower and sweet potato so far) with some protein. It’s been an experiment, and I’m excited to start figuring out how to pack some good fats/superfoods into our regime. He is a little peanut, and definintely could use some meat on his bones. They were feeding him huge portions (I’m trying to figure out how to scale those down), but I think the food just wasn’t nutrient-dense enough to really help him thrive.

Children from institutions often have a lot of emotional issues related to eating, and he is no different. If we step away during his feeding (usually to get something for one of his siblings), he gets really upset and will actually cry/scream. In one week, he has already learned where he will eat, and the only time he will willingly crawl is if he wants to be feed. He will crawl over to his highchair and then just sit and wait.

In the apartment -- checking to see why I've taken a break spooning food into his mouth when he can clearly see there is still food in the bowl.  Get it together, mama!

In the apartment — checking to see why I’ve taken a break spooning food into his mouth when he can clearly see there is still food in the bowl. Get it together, mama!

Very common high chair face.  Still trying to figure this one out.  But man it's cute!

Very common high chair face. Still trying to figure this one out. But man it’s cute!

We have already seen a lot of changes in such a short time, and I think the hard part of that is expecting too much from him. I wish I had taken more videos when we first met him, because he seems like a different child to me. He previously would zone out the entire time we were with him, but now I’d say more than 50% of the time he is focusing on what’s going on around him. He has also started to engage in some toddler naughtiness, which is HUGE, since it shows signs that he understands play. I put him on the potty the other day (he was using the potty at the orphanage, although still in diapers, and has kept it up for us), and I stepped out to grab something. I heard him fling himself off and then start laughing – I walked in to catch him crawling out of the bathroom. 🙂  The last few nights at bedtime he has started standing up as soon as I put him in his crib and then giggling about it. When I leave to grab something (Bug has a never-ending request for things when it’s about to be lights out) he is standing in the corner of his crib right by the door when I come back, a huge grin on his face. These might not seem like big things, but they are a huge change. I can’t accurately describe the shell of a little boy we first met.

Okay, so what’s next for us? Well, we had Boo’s first doctor appointment yesterday. He is being referred to a whole slew of specialists. I am really excited to see what the ophthalmologist has to say, because Daddy K and I (and my friend Jessica as well), all noticed that he really seems to have a hard time actually focusing on anything. We also have to follow-up on his hearing (they sent me home with his hearing aids, but we haven’t been using them), as well as a good work-up for his heart defect. We should also start physical therapy soon, although I don’t want to push it.

Hanging with my brother.  Bug is super sweet with him and even told Daddy K one night, "Hey, stop bothering my brudda!"

Hanging with my brother. Bug is super sweet with him and even told Daddy K one night, “Hey, stop bothering my brudda!”

Our main goal is working on bonding. And learning that what we think bonding should look like might not actually be what it NEEDS to look like. It’s a hard balance between finding ways to engage him, and not over-stimulating or stressing him out. If we let him, he’d be happy to zone out all day (as long as we kept his belly full!). And yet, he clearly is beginning to blossom with some attention. Pray for wisdom in finding that sweet spot, and that we don’t let our hidden expectations or our pride negatively affect how we relate and respond to him. Not surprisingly, having him home has revealed the depths of our selfishness, and our innate desire for our own comfort and our own version of redemption. Pray that we allow the Author of all redemption to tell His story, and accept our role in that story with open hands. Our children are all surprising us every day, and it’s humbling to think about our role in their lives. We want to do this (parenting) well, and often our worst enemy is ourselves. They are patient, and forgiving, and full of joy. Boo is a beautiful little boy, and we are grateful to be on this journey with him.

I LOVE to swing.

I LOVE to swing.

Mama’s gotcha baby!


This, my friends, is what redemption looks like.

Forgotten becomes rejoiced over.

Abandoned becomes sought out.

Discarded becomes fought for.

Despair becomes hope.

Broken becomes loved.

Darkness becomes light.

Death becomes life.

An orphan becomes a son and brother.

This is the gospel, the good news, the testimony, and it was true for me long before it was true for Boo. But today is his day…this sweet, brave, fighter of a boy. And every day is His day, this God who will never stop fighting. For Boo. For me. For all of us.

Happy Gotcha Day beautiful!

Where We’re At: March 8, 2015

I apologize to any blog readers that I’m not also friends with on Facebook. I realized I have been neglecting to keep you updated during our trip to meet and hopefully pick up our Boo. I have been posting regularly on a Facebook group, but wanted to take the chance to update here as well. Unfortunately, Daddy K headed home today with our laptop (one less thing for me to worry about), so this is post will be heavy on pictures and light on content. It’s really hard for me to write anything significant on the iPad.

**Don’t worry, I’m keeping a list of all the things we are experiencing here that I’d love to write about later! Oh, you weren’t worried? Nevermind, then. 🙂 **

We arrived In country on February 26 and after a quick stop at the hotel, we headed straight to the orphanage to meet Boo. It was amazing but also a little surreal. I was totally freaking out, but Daddy K was cool as a cucumber.



On Friday and Saturday, we went to the baby house in the morning and afternoon to get to know our little man. We stayed as long as they would let us, and were able to feed him, change him, help him on the potty and put him to to bed. We were feeling a little cooped up inside, so they let us take him out for a walk and try out the playground. He was a totally different child outside.




Sunday we had the day off because everyone had to participate in voting for local officials. We were able to tour the Old Town and meet up with a cousin from Daddy K’s father’s side of the family.



On Monday we were able to visit again in the morning and afternoon. We were able to see his PT session with a different therapist and he was in a slightly more cooperative mood than the first time we saw PT. His main caregiver also spent a lot of time with us to explain his schedule and individual needs. This was the first day he really started clinging to my neck when I would hold him.



Tuesday we took Boo on his first road trip to see the embassy doctor, because she will be out of town all this week. We got him back in time for a nap, and then spent the afternoon/evening with him at his place.



Wednesday he had a hearing appointment in the morning, which we weren’t allowed to attend, so we only got to visit all afternoon and into bed time. We were able to spend time with all the children in his is groupa in the evening. Thursday was COURT day, but we also had to bring him back to the embassy doctor in the capital. The drive is a little under 2 hours. We said goodbye to him at the appointment and headed to our lawyer’a office to change and prep for court. After lunch we headed to the court building and waited for our case to be up.


The court went well, and the judge seemed satisfied with all of our answers. She will essentially rule on two decisions. The first is whether or not to grant our adoption of Boo, and the second is whether or not to grant us "urgent execution," which allows us to bring him home now versus in 30 days. Her decision will be given Monday afternoon.

After court we headed to the train station to take an express train back to the city where Boo's baby house is. A cousin of Daddy K's from his mother's side of the family picked us up at the station and drove us to Sulwalki, Poland, where his mother was raised and his grandmother currently lives. We spent two nights with Babciunia before taking a 4-hour bus ride back to the capital on Saturday.


Saturday afternoon we checked into the apartment where I'll stay the remainder of the trip. Yay! I unpacked and started to get things ready for Boo. That night, Daddy K and I were able to have a sweet date night, and we walked around this beautiful old city, ate some amazing food, laughed a lot, and started trying to process some of this journey. He left this morning to head home and snuggle our babies to pieces!



Tomorrow my friend will arrive to provide support for the upcoming week. We will have the judge’s decision by 4 pm. If everything is in our favor, we will leave bright and early Tuesday morning for the baby house. We will spend the morning with our dude while our facilitator works to obtain a new birth certificate for him. Once it’s compete, we can spring him forever. My heart is screaming as I write that.

From there, we paper chase to get a visa and passport for him. Fingers crossed that he and I will be heading home on Wednesday, March 18. It’s been whirlwind, sometimes beautiful and sometimes overwhelmingly broken, but undoubtedly worth every second. God is good to us, and I’m incredibly humbled to be part of His story.


Feelings, nothing more than feelings. . .

Woo to the hoo, friends. We are leaving in ONE WEEK. On one hand I can’t believe it’s finally here, on the other hand it feels like it snuck up on us. Naturally, as we get ready to head out, people ask, “How are you feeling?” As a Jen Hatmaker groupie, I’ve been combing through some of her old posts on adoption, and I found this gem that she actually stole from Melissa Fay Greene on the first year of adoption, and it was a salve to my tender little heart:

“Put Feelings on a back-burner. This is not the time for Feelings. If you could express your feelings right now, you’d be saying things like, “Oh my God, I must have lost my mind to think that I can handle this, to think that I wanted a child like this. I’ll never manage to raise this child; I’m way way way way over my head. I’ll never spend time with my spouse or friends again; my older children are going to waste away in profound neglect; my career is finished. I am completely and utterly trapped.” You see? What’s the point of expressing all that right now? Put Feelings in the deep freeze. Live a material life instead: wake, dress, eat, walk. Let your hands and words mother the new child, don’t pause to look back, to reflect, or to experience emotions. “Shut up, Emotions,” you’ll say. “I’ll check back with you in six months to see if you’ve pulled yourselves together. But no whining meanwhile!” 

And I like that, I can understand the value in that. I know I’ve gotten through more than one tough time in my life by putting my feelings in the deep freeze for a while – not forever, because I think it’s important to be authentic with who we are and explore the complexities of what makes us human. But for a time, for just long enough to MAKE IT to the other side. So, as we approach our “due date” I wanted to take this chance to share all. of. the. feelings. stumbling around in my body right now. One, because I wanted to be honest about what this looks like for me, right now, in this moment. But also, because I’m going to just get to work when we come home, and save all this emotion sharing for a later date. 🙂

And I’m taking a page from New Orleans Saints tight end Benjamin Watson; who beautifully, eloquently, and honestly demonstrated that it’s possible for one person to feel a myriad of emotions about something — emotions that although might seem diametrically opposed, are ALL still entirely authentic. One emotion simply cannot capture the entire picture. And I just love how he made it okay to feel a lot of different things, and not pretend to have all of the answers to such a complex issue.

To be clear, I in no way equate the complexity of my emotions with his, nor the issue of our adoption as charged, but I personally related to his heart in this instance, and I think so often it’s almost impossible to clearly explain our thoughts about something from just one angle.

So without further adieu, here’s how I feel. . .


So many parts of this journey make me happy. I am actually really excited to travel alone with my husband and spend some time connecting. It feels fun to have this adventure together, to have a super long flight to read books, listen to podcasts, and annoy him with my incessant talking. I’m excited to visit Lithuania, especially during their Independence Day. I just finished a historical fiction novel called Between Shades of Grey about how Stalin deported tens of thousands of Lithuanians to Siberia in the 1940s. And it wasn’t talked about for DECADES because Lithuania wasn’t able to gain independence until 1990. I can’t wait to learn more about this strong, brave, resilient little country that brought us to our son. I can’t believe I’m actually going to meet our son for the first time, to touch him and see him and hear him. I’m excited to be past the anticipation, and just “have” this baby already.

I feel GUILTY.

I hate that I will be away from Sissy and Bug for so long, and worry about if they will feel lonely, or abandoned, or sad. Bug has been super clingy lately and I have been soaking up every moment and extra hug, not sure how the dynamic will play out when we are all home. I know, without question, that this is a temporary hardship for our family, this separation, and that it is unavoidable to bring their brother home. And I know that Luke 15:4 tells us that it’s nautral for us to leave 99 sheep (who we know are safe) to go off and find the ONE sheep who is missing (because that’s the sheep in danger). But really, I will feel so much better when all my sheep are under the same roof,


It has been a long year, friends. We started this adoption process within a few months of moving to a new state, with an entire new life to build. Daddy K has a new job, and learning to live within the rhythms of this new assignment has been taxing on all of us. Trying to navigate an entire new set of emotions that relate to adoption has also been draining. It’s a roller coaster of highs and lows, and that modulation has worn me down a bit.  I’m ready for to move on past settling in and waiting for our boy.


There is so much unknown in this trip, and I honestly struggle a lot with not having control. I’m not sure how Boo will feel about us, how deep his grief will be over losing his home, his language, his caretakers. I’m not sure how or if he will eat and sleep once he’s with me. Or if the clothes I bring will fit. Or anything really. And yet:

Worry implies that we don’t quite trust God is big enough, powerful enough, or loving enough to take care of what’s happening in our lives. 
Stress says the things we are involved in are important enough to merit our impatience, our lack of grace towards others, or our tight grip of control.
Basically, these two behaviors communicate that it’s okay to sin and not trust God because the stuff in my life is somehow exceptional. Both worry and stress reek of arrogance. They declare our tendency to forget that we’ve been forgiven, that our lives are brief … and that in the context of God’s strength, our problems are small, indeed. –Francis Chan, Crazy Love


Because I know God is part of this story. It’s His story. He always shows up. Actually, I guess He never leaves. And I know that as we walk out on this water (to the place where if I take my eyes of Him for a second I’ll drown), I’m going to fall more in love with my Creator. Being completely dependent on him with foster an even deeper relationship, and there is freedom in knowing I don’t have to have all the answers because Someone else does. In Tiny Green Elephants, one of my favorite blogs throughout this process, she reflects on her first adoption journey and the lessons they learned along the way:

What I’m saying is, if God is asking you to do anything, no matter how big or how small, it’s because He loves you, and because he wants what is best for you, and those you love, and his plan is bigger than just your plan for yourself.  Don’t stress, don’t worry, relax.

He loves me. He loves my husband. And He loves my children more than I could possibly ever imagine. And true, He’s not promising me smooth sailing in this, or a perfect transition without pain and suffering. But He is promising me Himself. Which is more than enough. More than I deserve.

Thank you for investing in this journey with us, for taking the time to read about our story and listen to my heart. We are ready to bring our little man home, and start figuring out what happens next.

But God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through. –Francis Chan, Crazy Love

the very hungry catepillar

We leave in about two weeks and honestly I am all over the place emotionally. Trying to get everything planned out and then dealing with changes, worrying about if it will all go perfectly (umm, I really like things to all go perfectly), and losing sleep over how the kids will do while I’m gone is all making me a hot mess.  So, I haven’t had a lot of space left in brain to write anything creative. Or write at all, or respond to texts or messages. It’s taking all of my energy to just keep plugging along.

But, I did want to quickly write about one things people outside the adoption world might not be familiar with – it’s called cocooning. When I mention it to people, they agree that it makes sense, it’s just not something they’ve ever heard of before. Sometimes I forget that everyone hasn’t read all the same articles, blogs, and books as me, and I just assume everyone has heard of these things.

For detailed information, you can google adoption and cocooning, but I’m just give you the simplified, Ali-version here. The basic idea is that once an adoptive child comes home, they kind of need a “reset” of sorts. This is especially true of older and internationally adopted children. Everything in their life has changed dramatically, and “experts” seem to agree that there is value is spending a little bit of time hunkering down once you are home.

What this looks like varies from family to family, and the length of time is dependent on the individual child (and what the rest of the family can handle). Essentially, you want to help the child form a secure, lasting bond/attachment with his new mama and daddy, as opposed to just viewing you as a reliable caregiver. One thing I read suggested cocooning for one month for every year of orphanage life, plus one month. So we’d be looking at 3 months-ish. Something else recommended at least 6 weeks.

One thing that is hard during this time is that you are not encouraged to let other people meet your new child’s needs. Which means even though he will be the cutest little Eastern European on the block, when he first comes home we won’t be able to let other people hold him. We also won’t be able to go out as a whole family for a while, so we plan to alternate Sundays at church for a bit. Some families have said it’s taken only a few months for their child to adjust, others actually over a year. Really, we have no idea what it will be like for our little dude.

The danger is that if your child is being cared for/loved on by too many people (really people outside of mom and dad), they won’t internalize the actual difference between their previous situation and their new life (i.e. orphanage care versus FAMILY). And to create a strong attachment, its important for them to understand that they have a mama and a daddy who will meet their every need. This attachment is crucial for later emotional maturity and stability.

We will also have to limit family outings because of the over-stimulation for him. He has literally spent his entire life in one building, and mostly the same one room, so EVERYTHING will assault his senses. At the beginning, that will be too overwhelming for him, so we will stay home and just focus on simple play, eye contact, rocking. Essentially, you almost treat them like an infant at the beginning, in an attempt to create the natural attachment that occurs when caring for a baby.

Practically, I think this will be difficult for our family. The other kids have activities, and I know spending so much time in two units (one parent with Sissy and Bug, the other with Boo) will be lonely for all of us. Also, Daddy K and I won’t be able to go out on dates for a while since he won’t be able to stay with a babysitter, although we have talked about leaving after the kids are in bed. Let’s be honest though, by then I’m sure I will just want to be in bed too! I’m definitely looking forward to the time when we are past this initial phase. But I don’t want to rush it either, because I understand we are laying the foundation that will be crucial for Boo to feel secure for the rest of his life.

So, if you are in the local area, please don’t be offended if we turn down invitations or don’t invite you over. Also, please don’t think we are crazy when ask you not to pick up our little guy. You are welcome to talk to him and engage him while we are holding him. We will play it by ear and try to adjust as necessary to make this transition easy on all of us. We can’t wait to share him with everyone as soon as he is ready!

We are totally fine with having people come to the airport to meet us, especially because this will probably be the last time for a few weeks that we are able to be in a larger group and give people a chance to meet him. After that, we plan to cocoon through all of April and then see where we are at. Daddy K and I will take turns getting the other little people out of the house for the sake of the sanity, and to make sure they still feel nurtured and loved. If you want to help Sissy and Bug feel special during this time, you are more than welcome!

We are so excited to be this close, and yet obviously we are still in the stage of the big unknown. Even more excited to get home and start figuring out what our new normal will look like. Thanks for supporting us on this journey.

Where We’re At: January 19, 2015

Happy New Year! The holidays got relatively busy for us, and we traveled to Chicago to see family for Christmas. Then we were only home for a week before I packed up again for some Reserve time in DC. We wanted to finish all my time as early as possible so that we’d be ready to travel when it was finally time. Also, having my Reserve time finished before Boo comes home ensures I won’t have to be separated from him (or Sissy and Bug) for at least a year. I’m not sure yet how we’ll manage that first separation, but right now it’s not even something I want to wrap my head around, because we have something much more important to worry about:

A court date! Little Boo will become our son on March 5, 2015. I sent off our first bit of official paperwork on March 6, 2015. We had already been figuring things out for a few weeks, but I took a picture of that first “real” step so I’d remember. On March 6, the application to adopt went to our agency. One year later, a little boy an ocean away will get a family. A mama and daddy who whisper in his ear that he is valuable, worthy of love, and forever a Kojak. I can’t wait. I am beyond excited. And also a little bit terrified. Maybe two parts excited, one part terrified.


I was the crazy lady at the post office taking a picture of an envelope. At the time, I was determined to take a picture of everything, but you know, life happens.

So what does that mean for us? Well, now my Type-A, slightly OCD, crazy mode has started to set in. There are a decent amount of logistical arrangements that need to be made, a pretty decent chunk of money that still needs to be paid, and a billion things to look up on the internet. As my mind swirls with all of the things I need to make happen and I try to Google away the panic, I can’t help thinking, “Why on earth didn’t I look this up before?” And, oh yeah, I still haven’t finished that one really important book. Ummm, or that other one actually. Aaaaaaaaah! Maybe we’re not ready!

But are you ever really “ready” for something that is going to change your life so drastically? God is showing up in the little ways, gentle reminders that He is with us, and He is with Boo, and He cares about the details. Like the dates. And we sold our Corolla on Craigslist in like two days without a single hitch. First test drive, the money was in our account the same day. From a mama buying a car for her college-aged son, whom she adopted as a baby.

And of course, because I’m me, our schedule is going to be just a little different than most of the other families who have gone before us. I’m not surprised anymore when random things happen to me, although to be fair, in many cases I’ve had a small (or large) part in the unlucky circumstances I find myself in.

Our court date is March 5, so Daddy K and I have to be in country by February 26. We will fly out on the 25th, and it ends up being an overnight flight. I’m not sure yet if we’ll get to meet our little man that first day, or will get settled and head to the orphanage the following morning. I do know it will be impossible to sleep that night. I mean, how crazy is that, that we’ll meet our son? Then we will spend the next week visiting Boo at the orphanage. We’ll be there for three hours in the morning, then have a break, then another two and a half hours in the afternoon.

Our court is in the capital city in the afternoon, so we’ll drive there in the morning. Already feeling sad that my boy will wonder where we went. After court we head back to his smaller town to wait to hear from the judge. This is where our case gets tricky. Our court is on Thursday, so we will either hear from the judge Friday or it won’t be until Monday or Tuesday of the following week. And the catch there is that Wednesday is a national holiday, so no offices of any kind will be open.

We can’t spring Boo from the orphanage until we have his “new” birth certificate, which can’t happen until we hear from the judge. Our facilitators seem to think the judge will grant us the “urgent execution,” which means we will be able to come home with Boo on this trip. But the delay for the birth certificate will push us back. Once he’s out of the orphanage (forever!), we move to the capital to finish the paperwork necessary to bring him into the U.S. Here’s the catch — there are two US doctors that work at the US embassy and you are required to have a complete physical before you are issued a visa to enter the states. In theory, you can’t have that physical complete until the child has a US passport. Which obviously hinges on the birth certificate. But, to really spice it up, those two doctors, the ONLY two doctors who can examine Boo, will be at a medical conference for embassy doctors (in another country) from March 9 – 15. Ha! I can’t even be frustrated, because it’s so typical of my luck. Honestly, I know it will all work out how it is supposed to, so I’m trying to not waste my energy with too much stress.

Truthfully, the only hard part of it all is the amount of time I’ll be away. Although I’m excited to travel and explore and learn about another country, I hate that I’ll be away from Sissy and Bug for that long. Our facilitator thinks best-case scenario is that Boo and I fly home on March 20. Daddy K will have to come home much earlier, right after court. Our awesome nanny and friend from Washington is flying out to watch the kids while we are both gone – I’m not sure who is more excited, her or the kids! Then, another one of my sweet friends from Washington is going to fly out to me and replace Daddy K for a week. I am so thankful that I’ll have some company in that initial time I come “home” with Boo. And also just to protect me from loneliness. In a perfect world, we had hoped to be able to fly back stateside together, so I’d have help on the long flight. But our timeline makes this impossible. So yeah, it’s a lot of moving pieces.

And it’s probably just because I only got back this weekend from being away for two weeks, but it’s breaking my heart to think about my other loves missing me for so long. Daddy K said they lit up when I got home Saturday, like they just softened and relaxed in the arms of their mama. And they are fighting like crazy to have me put them to bed, or sit in my lap, and I just want to assure them it’s okay, I’m not going anywhere. Except that I am. For what will be almost a month. It’s bittersweet. But all is grace. I know He is with us and with them, and I pray that He will comfort their little hearts and prepare them as best as possible for what’s to come.

I first posted about our adoption journey on March 21, 2014. March 21st is World Down Syndrome Day. And I posted that we hoped next year our son would be celebrating at home with his brother and sister. Being celebrated, loved on and laughed with. He and I will hopefully get off a plane in Florida on March 20, 2015, where he will meet his brother and sister for the first time, before driving to the first home that’s ever been his own. Cutting it close, but right on time.