"We are ready to love her"

When the topic of Lent came up this year at home and at church, we talked to the boys about what we might give up and what the act of giving something up was supposed to mean.  In the end, we came to a consensus to ADD something in vs. give something up (yes – unorthodox, but it was meaningful to us) and the thing we decided to add was a group prayer before we left for school/work each morning.  Jackson is generally the “leader” of our crew and he appointed himself the official head pray-er for the Lent-induced morning prayer.  And his first group prayer of Lent began this way:  “Thank you Lord for the trees and the plants and us.  Help us all to have a good day.  And please help us to find our sister in China.  We are ready to love her.”  Since this was a good one – as prayers go – and he got looks of approval from all of us, this became THE group prayer.   He didn’t really vary it at all after that first day.  Then, a few days into Lent, we got the call from our agency about Emily.  We had “found our sister in China!”  (perhaps Jackson should be tasked with all prayers for this family…)   And, now that she’s here (we’ve had her for one month as of this date (6/29 “gotcha day” and 7/29 today), we see how we really were – and are – “ready to love her.”   Every day our love for her grows – even if that love is often shown (by one brother in particular) by squeezing her and carrying her from place to place (sometimes despite her protests of “no, no, no!”).

 

On this date one month ago, her orphanage people delivered her to our hotel.  We were nervous beyond description, but we strode forth out of the elevator ready to face whatever the day brought to us.  There she was, chasing a little balloon around the lobby and babbling to herself.  But, I will never forget how I dropped to my knees to be at her level and her orphanage lady said, “mama” and pointed to me and she looked my way and yelled “NO!” (or some version of it).  She cried and cried and tried to buck away from us after the “hand-off” and she sobbed at the window of our hotel room whimpering words that sound like “go-guy-oh” (which we later found out meant “go out of here”).   She wanted nothing to do with us and wanted us to take her out of the room and back to her people.  I hadn’t seen that many tears in a long time.  But, I’d also never seen anyone given away to “strangers” and away from all she had ever known. 

 

By the next day, though, she was willing to take my hand and to allow us to take her to the official adoption appointment.  She let us play with her and she learned her first English word – “toe.”  (Not typical, but it was something that stuck quickly).  And soon enough, she learned to accept us and to let us feed her and hold her and put her to bed and change her and take her from place to place.  She was loved at her orphanage and was around people who cared for her and talked to her and played with her and cared for her.  There is no doubt in my mind that it is because of their love and care for her and their engaging her in play and exposing her to people and language that she has adapted to us and to her new life as well as she has.  She is big and healthy and has already learned at least 15 or more English words (to speak) – and understands even more.  She plays with toys, responds to her name, loves her brothers, and is happy around people and children.  She is not “too happy” or too willing to please – as are some children who have learned to be “pleasers” in order to get attention from orphanage workers.  She looks for us and is sufficiently wary of people who are not part of her family.  She will go into other rooms in our house – out of my sight – but always comes back around a corner to smile and verify that I’m there.  She likes to make us laugh and she loves to laugh at funny things her brothers do.  She loves to sing and dance and grabs our hands or fingers to lead us where she wants to go.  She cries when unhappy or frustrated  or when she wants something and is very much a typical 18 month old.  She looks into our eyes when we talk to her and hold her and she gives hugs.  She is a loving, spunky, funny, spirited little girl and she fits in very well with us. 

 

 

We used to sing a song – based upon the poem by Robert Louis Stevenson – about “how I like to go high in a swing up in the air so blue” when we were swinging in our backyard.  We’d always finish with “oh, I do think it the grandest thing ever a Mommy and a Daddy and a Jackson and a Grammy and a little sister can do.”  I thought about that when she and I were swinging this morning.   The amorphous “little sister” is now here and is filling the toddler swing that we left hanging “just in case” we ever followed through on the dream of adopting.  

So – where are we a month into our family of five?  Pretty good overall.   But, I want to be clear in case any other soon-to-be-adoptive parents read this (if they are like me and frequently read/stalk other people’s blogs for information on what to expect), that I think a lot of what we’re experiencing with Emily is due to her very atypical orphanage beginning.  She was in a very small setting with very few children and lots of caregivers (and, for the last 3-4 months she lived at the orphanage, she was the ONLY child there).  Her nanny and others at the orphanage held her when she cried, responded to her when she was sad, slept with her for naps and bedtime, fed her from their plates, brushed her teeth, took care of her skin and hair, put sunglasses on her when she went outside, let her play, taught her to walk, let her explore outside and inside the buildings (she seemingly had the run of the place – judging from what we saw when we were there), showed her our pictures, and prepared her – as best they could for a child her age – for adoption.   Unfortunately, this is not the typical situation for orphans.  We are definitely reaping the benefits of Emily’s loving upbringing. 

Still – we have had (and are still having) some issues.  Issues that are probably “normal” 18 month old issues compounded by having been thrust into a totally new (and likely far more stimulating) setting, with new people, new things, new foods, etc…   (1) For the first week we were home, Emily was TERRIFIED of our 9 year old very sweet and great-with-kids lab mix dog.  She would go hysterical if he was even in the house at the same time she was.  I put him in the house one day and tried to take her into the backyard and she would not calm down at all since she had seen him in the yard earlier that day.  She would scream and scream if she saw his face through the closed glass door to the deck.   Thankfully, after lots of work with her on this and exposure to us loving him, she will now “allow” him to be in the house and she will come near him and she even reached out to pet his face yesterday.   (2)  SLEEP –  after the first two bad/jet-laggy nights home, she slept pretty well in her crib (with me nearby on a toddler bed).  But, for the past two weeks, it has been VERY difficult to get her to go to sleep (for naps or bedtime) and she has been waking up crying during the night.   Since Justin went back to work, she will not let him put her to bed.  She screams and cries if he makes a move to be the night-time person.   I sing and rock and pat and shh and stand and march and swing and jiggle and sing and rock some more sometimes for up to 50 minutes or longer to get her to sleep on the same schedule she supposedly had at the orphanage and which she followed in China and the first week home.   She has not been sleeping at night in the crib (for the past week) for more than 2-3 hours before crying out for us.  We’re having to lay her on a mattress on the floor and sleep next to her for the rest of the night.  Some nights, she sleeps fine like that and other nights, she rolls all over the place, tries to stand up and requires me to stand and rock and shh and sing and hold her 25 pounds for hours during the night.  This is not good, but we’re not sure what the issue is.  The adoption books and parents and social workers all say NOT to let newly-adopted children cry.  They need to learn that you are their people and that you’ll always respond and will always be there and will always comfort and love them.  So, we’re doing this.  But, it is hard – physically and mentally.  Hopefully this will all work itself out sooner than later.  I slept in Graham’s room for 5.5 years, so it’s a little strange for me to be bothered by all this.  But, having seen the light in China and having slept in a bed and had a baby go easily to sleep, I really don’t want to spend 5 more years in another room (or 5 months for that matter).  I know that sounds selfish, but it’s hard to be “away” from everyone else for so much of the day – even though I’ll do anything to help her learn to love and trust us.  I miss having some time to myself and I miss putting the big boys to bed and I miss having any time to talk to Justin.  This part is hard – just as sleep issues are for any parent anywhere – regardless of whether the children are adopted or biological.

 

So, there is the update.  Other than when it’s naptime or bedtime J, she is joyful and loving and such a gift.  She was absolutely worth the wait and, as Jackson sings to the “Happy” song (from Despicable Me), we are “happy, happy, happy Emily to be the family for you!  Happy, happy, happy Emily – we will always LOVE you.”  (she loves this tune and immediately starts dancing when he tunes up). 

 

We were definitely ready to love her and she was the answer to our little Lent/morning prayer!  I love that the boys were able to experience a prayer really being answered. 

 

First doctor's appointment and MY HEART KNOWS THAT SHE IS MY DAUGHTER

I took Em to her first appointment with a pediatrician last Friday. We were there for almost 3 hours, but she handled it pretty well. We had the regular exam, updated 18-month vaccinations (5 shots!), and then the "routine" international adoption blood work. That part was THE WORST. They had to stick her in 4 different locations to get veins/blood to fill all of the vials. Poor Emily was screaming and shuddering as I held her. I could think only two things: (1) what is she thinking as she sobs "Mama" and this Mama is pinning her down while people stick needles into her arms and hands; and (2) how thankful am I that this is JUST a pediatrician's visit and JUST routine blood work and nothing she'll likely have to have done again - which is not the case for so many other children - both adopted and otherwise. I can barely imagine what parents of chronically ill children feel when they see their children poked and prodded and pricked with needles and other medical devices far too often. Emily sweated through her clothes and cried buckets (see below), but we survived. She was asleep before I cranked the car to head home!

 

And if there was any good (other than the results of the exam) to the appointment, it was this:  as she cried and sobbed while they stuck her for shots and blood draws, I cried with her - just as I have in the past with Jackson and Graham.  And, it struck me then that she IS my daughter - just the same as they are my sons.  I love her and I'm her mom and I feel sad when she is sad.  My brain "knew" she was my daughter before that day at the pediatrician's office, but my HEART really FELT it as I held her and cried with her that day.

Sad, pitiful face here as we prepared to finally leave:



In good news, she is in GREAT shape (not a surprise to me).  She is in the 78th percentile for weight (for an 18 month old - using the US charts) and the 81st percentile for height.  Really unheard of in an adoptee from China (or many other places for that matter)!!  Her skin looks good, her ears are clear, and her blood work was all in normal ranges.  She is developmentally on target and (in my humble opinion) is (as my grandmother used to say) a smart cookie.  She has learned about 12-15 English words in 3 weeks and understands even more.  The doctor and others who saw her couldn't believe she was recently adopted and couldn't believe how great she looks.

Even more important to us than her weight and height and blood work being normal is that she talks to us and responds to us and tries to make us laugh and engages us, and cries for us and cries to get her way and cries when she is hurt or sad.  Sadly, some children who are "raised" in orphanages do not immediately respond to their new parents and have long stopped crying for help or when they are sad.  It's a terrible "learned" response to a lack of response from caregivers.  If nobody comes when you cry, you eventually just stop crying.  I've seen the heartbreaking videos taken by other parents at orphanages in baby rooms where there is almost total silence because the babies have learned to give up on crying. 

 

Emily has regressed a little sleep-wise, but maybe we can blame the 5 shots and blood work for that.  She needs me to lie down beside her at bedtime and she needs me to pick her up a couple of times a night and/or to sleep next to her for the last few hours before morning.  She slept soundly in China, so this is a change.  It's difficult to imagine, though, how MUCH she has had to change in 3 weeks.  She has had to adjust to a totally different time zone than the one she had been on for her WHOLE life and she has seen so many different people and things and has experienced more in 3 weeks than any of us probably ever have (in a similar comparison).  For now, I'm going to coddle her and pick her up and lie with her.  (For those who know me well, I'm sure you're thinking, "Oh no!  Here she goes again!"- since you know I slept in Graham's room for 5 years (yes - I'm a softie))  She can't be treated, for now, like a "regular" child who has grown up in a loving home -- even though she came from a loving orphanage setting.  She needs to learn to trust us and to rely upon us and to believe that we will always come and will always meet her needs and will always help her when she needs us and will always love her.  It's a process - even though we are leaps and bounds ahead of most adoptive parents due to Emily's unique and wonderful orphanage setting. 

 

Here are some pictures from LATER on the doctor visit day.  Back to being the happy, curious, funny girl:

 

 

 

 

So, we continue to find our rhythm as a family of five and to make Emily feel as special and precious as she is.  As I was lying beside her tonight and singing a (made up) song about "night night," she put her hands on my face and said "night night" and then poked me in the eye and said "eye."  She truly is "fearfully and wonderfully made."  She is an incredible gift and I feel so grateful that we get to be her family!

 

Here is a little video of our crazy dinner table singing a "Happy" song for Emily (whenever she hears it now, she does the same dance). 

 

She was our "ONE MORE PIECE." 
Our puzzle is complete.

 

One week home

One week later… but it seems, in some ways, like we’ve been home longer than that.  Life moves more quickly here than it did in China.  Lots more to do: clothes to wash, lunches to pack, house to (kind of) clean, activities to go to.  Justin mentioned that although we missed the boys terribly and were sometimes feeling a little “Groundhog Day-ish” while we were in China, life was easier on our trip because somebody cleaned our room, cooked our food, scheduled our activities, and drove us place to place.  We didn’t really have that much to do other than to bond with our girl and enjoy the ride.  We are definitely still enjoying the ride here.  But, this “ride” requires us to pump the gas and drive.

Emily is doing AMAZINGLY well.  We were prepared (or at least we said/thought we were) for possible scenarios after returning home.  We read the books, took the online classes, listened to our agency reps and social worker, and followed religiously the blogs and stories of other parents who have adopted from China.  Understandably, most “re-entries” are not necessarily smooth.  Some children have a “honeymoon” period in China and then really begin to grieve for their old life when they get “home” to their new country.  Some children have eating or sleeping issues – or both.  Some cling to their new parents for dear life – in fear of that every new thing is temporary and that they may soon be given over to new caregivers.   And there are a host of other documented and normal-under-the-circumstances reactions.  We thought we would be ready to handle whatever happened, but the same spunky Emily who emerged in China after her long hours of sobbing on “gotcha day” has been the child we’ve seen since coming home.  She is funny and energetic and smart and curious (and I’m obviously biased).  She asks for hugs, but isn’t overly clingy.  She loves when her brothers come home and gets so excited that she dances when they are around.  She willingly sits in highchairs and car seats if brothers are around (two things she would not do in China).  She loves to play and to roll around on our rugs (maybe she only experienced hard tile floors (that we saw in her orphanage) for her first 18 months and the rugs provide a great, soft area to roll and giggle).  She loves to go outside and walk around the yard or go through the neighborhood in her stroller urging me to run faster and faster so that she can put her feet up in the air and yell “wooo!” (see below):

She has learned a lot of English words in our almost-three-weeks with her:  ball, up, on, off, toes, knee, shoe, close, cup, top, one, two, cracker, and – of course – NO!  She learns quickly and remembers where she is in the house and how to get to other rooms.  I think her receptive language is probably much greater than her English vocabulary.  I asked her to hand me something in the car today, and she picked up the thing I asked for and passed it my way.  She wanted to go outside this afternoon and I absentmindedly said, “Well, we have to find our shoes first.”  When I turned around, she was picking her little shoes up off the floor to bring them my way.   When we say "dance Emily," she dances her feet and twirls.  (Our "trained seal" as my mom would have said). She still has some meltdowns and screams when frustrated, but I think much of that is being an 18-month-old vs. being newly adopted.  The few adoption-related things I see are: (1) she is TERRIFIED of our dog (a nice, older Lab who is great with kids); (2) she doesn’t like the neighborhood pool and just whines and cries when taken to the pool, (3) she seemingly doesn’t know how to play with and has no interest in typical toddler toys. 

 

The toy thing is interesting.  She was very well taken care of and very loved (which is great and we are reaping the benefits now) , but I didn’t see many toys in her orphanage.  I think she played mostly outside or maybe with “household” items like bowls, spoons, etc…  Since coming home, she has learned to play with blocks and bigger Legos and balls, but she prefers pots and bowls and Tupperware containers to our house full of toys.  She likes to play and will try to engage us or her brothers in her play, but she – so far – wants nothing to do with books (we will work on this), dolls, puzzles, or any of the (too many) plastic toys filling up our basement and main level of the house.  So, we’ve had sort of Montessori-esque playtime so far.  We’ve filled a baby tub with water and floated measuring cups and small bowls.  We’ve stacked and knocked over Tupperware.  We’ve banged pot lids together.  And, tonight, she enjoyed about 30 minutes of toting around a Target bag with a diaper inside.  She balled it up and stuffed the bag into pots and bowls and she “wore” the bag like a purse and pranced. 

She really just "fits" with us.  Justin commented the other day that a shrinking violet sort of girl or a quiet, tentative one might not fare as well in a busy household with two big brothers and lots of activity.  Emily just seems to "get" us though.  She puts bowls on her head to make us laugh and then wants us to put the bowls on our heads.  She gives tight hugs.  She giggles.  She dances and sings in the tub.  She isn't afraid to splash big brothers or to tell them (loudly) NO!  And, what sealed the deal was when Graham was bending over to fix something on his shoe the other night and she sidled up to him, bent over, put her bottom up near his and started shaking it and laughing.   When Jackson described a dance party session at one of his summer camps and started singing and re-enacting it at supper (nothing formal at our house!), Emily raised her arms in her high chair and started in with her own dance moves.  She truly was meant for us.   She just has a happy, funny personality that is the perfect "fit" for our family.  See the happy girl here:

 

And happy with her brothers:

I am still working to figure out a routine for us.  It still feels a little strange to me to be home.  This week has brought us lower humidity weather, so we’ve been able to enjoy being outside more than might normally be the case in July in our town.  We’ve strolled and walked through the yard and have picked flowers, examined leaves, looked at berries (which go straight toward her mouth), pulled up grass and watched it blow away in the breeze, and strolled all over.  We’ve played on playgrounds and tried the sandbox.  We’ve laid down in the grass to look up at trees and leaves.  Time is very slow for us and maybe that makes me think too much.   Maybe because this is my “last” look at life through the eyes of a toddler, I feel wistful for the years that have already passed with my boys.  I know we did similar things years ago, but when I was home with them on maternity leave, they were infants.  This is a little different.  I have found myself feeling a little sad for what has already faded into memory with my boys.  Graham finishes at his school tomorrow and that feels like the end of an era – even though Emily will also go there in a few months.  Graham has loved his school – as did Jackson before him.  And we have loved this school and the teachers who have become our friends.  Graham will miss his friends, but he doesn’t seem sad or scared about moving on to kindergarten.  It’s just me – the one who cries over change – who feels weepy about this milestone.  Boys don’t really want to look at leaves or flowers anymore and that’s fine and normal.  I just wish – sometimes – that I could slow it all down for all of us.  But, life doesn’t usually work that way.  Years pass into new years in a series of drop-offs, pick-ups, dashes to sports games and practices, and homework.  The chubby babies I once had are lean, muscular boys.  The basement full of toys sometimes feels too small for them now.   And I looked at our “fort”/swing set today from the window and wondered if they are now “too big” for such things.  I remember reading an article by Anna Quinlan one time where she was leafing through old photographs and noted that she wished she could remember how her children smelled that day and how it felt to brush their tangled hair.  I felt that way today as I went around examining little things with Emily.  Like I had one foot in a place with her while I watched the tide slowly going out in another place.  Maybe having a toddler around again has just made me realize the need to enjoy the little things more and to use my time wisely.   Not always easy – especially when life “gets started” again with school, return to work, etc…

So – sorry for the crazy detour in the paragraph above!  Here are some pictures of our first week at home:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 This next one was just after I found her ripping photographs off of the wall...

 Little ride-on toy she and I found at Goodwill!

 

 And every girl needs a good Target summer (clearance) chair!

 

 And a brother to pull her in a Lego Duplo wagon:

 A mouthful of toast...

 Followed up by some edamame