An unreachable place

An adoptive mom once told me that, even with an infant adoption, I would see signs of grief in my child -- that I would know the difference between a normal cry and a cry that comes from a place of deep angst. I took the information in and kept it in the back of my mind. I don't think I fully believed her.

Until now.

Our baby boy is a great sleeper. He naps great, and sleeps pretty much through the night. He wakes a few times, but usually a reassuring touch is all that is needed to lull him back to sleep.

But sometimes he cries when he is sleeping. Sometimes it is a panicked cry, sometimes a desperate whimper. I hold him. My presence does not always calm him. I can tell from his eyes that his subconscious is in a place that I do not have access to. A place I will never have access to. It is a place that he may never have conscious access to. An unreachable place. That unreachable place is a place that I wish he never had to go to. It is a place that neither Jake nor I can snatch him from.

From what we know of his story, our son has always felt great love from the people caring for him. But somewhere deep in his soul, just as any adopted child, he has experienced great loss. I don’t think that any amount of love and affection can make up for that. I believe it can do a great deal to heal those wounds, but those wounds will always be there.

The unreachable place that his soul goes to is a place I hate. I hate that there is a piece of his life that causes him pain. It is a piece of his life that may always cause him pain, and that causes me pain.

And so when he cries, we hold him. We hold him close and do our best to reassure him. He needs to know that we will always hold him close. But sometimes, his tiny soul tells him otherwise. How does he know we won’t ever leave him? We know that we will not, but I think it is only with time that he will know it too.

I often find tears in my eyes when he is experiencing one of these fits of unwakeable consciousness. He is not fully present, but he is fully feeling. I cry because I know this is not only a place that I cannot go, but it is a place I cannot protect him from. It is heart wrenching.

Another adoptive mom told me that we, as adoptive mothers, have to truly let the loss in our child's life and story permeate our soul. We have to grieve for them and with them. And we have to do it now, so that when they come to a place of conscious grief, we can support them and walk beside them.

Shortly after our referral, I had several weeks of intense grief. The weight of our son's story and the things that brought him to us felt very heavy to me. I think that feeling is back, but in a different way. I can't explain it. But when I hold my sweet boy in the middle of the night as he grieves, my heart hurts for him. The reality of his past is (for lack of a better term) so real during these times.

The good news is that sometimes he laughs when he is sleeping. It has been happening with increasing frequency. It really is the sweetest thing, and once again, it brings tears to my eyes. It brings me great peace to know that deep down in his unreachable place, there is also happiness.

***note: Just so you don't all think that we are in a constant state of sadness around here....Baby D is pure joy! He is a happy and content baby. We spend our days laughing and playing. We are in awe that we are so lucky to be a family!****

Birthday!

What others can say better

We've been home for weeks now, and I think my brain is starting to finally process everything. I had no idea the places my mind would take me, and also the places that I just couldn't go to right away (and some places that are still too hard to get to right now). So that is where I am right now: processing, coming to terms, learning to live. It may be a state that my mind is forever in, or it may just last a short time.

In the time since we arrived home, I've been soaking up some good reading. It is helping me to sort through my thoughts and feelings. I've also been talking with friends -- the kind of friends that let you lay out your heart in the middle of a coffee shop while your little one sleeps soundly in the carrier and her little one plays joyfully with boys in dress up dresses.

So, that is where I have been. Processing. Alone and with others. Reading and talking. Until I can get my thoughts into words, I want to share with you some thoughts that others have already written down.

The first is this beautiful post by a sweet friend. I met Jenny when we were both teaching in the Czech Republic. Her and Matt would end up spending several years there, eventually adopting their first daughter. They now live back in the states, and are now in the process of fostering/adopting. This post is about the love and loss of their first placement, and tiny little babe named Sarah. A really beautiful post.

The second (which I am sure many of you Ethio adoptive parents have already read) is Julie's recent post reflecting on her first six months of motherhood/parenting. I 'met' Julie through a mutual friend, and though we've never met in real life, I do hope that one day we do so I can thank her in person for the impact she has had on my life. She captures things so beautifully in her writing. I constantly find myself agreeing (usually outloud!) when I read her posts. This one in particular had me in tears.

Both of these women are at very different places in their adoption journeys. Even if you aren't at either of these places, please take some time to read these. It is so important to read the stories of others. We can learn from each other, encourage one another, and use the knowledge to be better parents to our children.

Thankfulness

We have been home for 2 weeks already! What the heck?!?!

Baby D is a dream...laughs, cuddles, sleeps good, eats great. I am so thankful that I get to be his mama.

Motherhood is different than I imagined -- in a good way.

Life is truly great right now. There are struggles, but then I see a tiny toothless grin and forget all about them.

I will return to blogging soon...for now I am enjoying this season of life and family!

Our journey to each other

Home

We are home from our life changing trip to beautiful Ethiopia. Baby D is a dream, Ethiopia is beyond words, and we love this new chapter in our lives.

Parting thoughts and nursery pictures

In just a few hours we will be leaving our house. We will be staying near the airport tonight and leaving bright and early Thursday morning. We will spend several days traveling in the region where our Baby D was born before heading to Addis Ababa on Monday morning.

On Monday morning, our new forever will start. We will receive our sweet boy into our arms, and we will never let go. Those cheeks, that hair, those toes, those eyes – suddenly everything will be in three dimensions.

We are excited. We are nervous. I feel like I am getting ready to meet a celebrity. Someone famous I have read about, seen pictures of, and waited impatiently for updates on will finally be in the same room as me! And in my arms! Will I be star struck? Overcome with emotion? Cry? Laugh?

One thing I know: next Monday, I will finally be able to take a deep breath. To breathe in my son, fill my lungs with his presence, and exhale knowing that forever starts at that very moment.

Chapters

Books have always been a big part of my life. A good book will keep me up all night, continuously making me promise myself “just one more chapter.” Of course, there is always one more chapter. With each chapter, you are one step closer to the next part of the story. You are also one step further from the beginning of the story.

We are one week away from embarking on the next chapter of our family’s story. This means we are also one week away from the end of our current chapter.

This chapter began 11+ years ago when Jake and I began a life together. It was formalized a little over 8 years ago when we promised to be together for the rest of our time on Earth. But after many years, many countries, many jobs, and too many moves to count, this chapter is nearing its end.

We are gearing up and I am excited.

We are winding down and I am sad.

We’ve been the dynamic duo for a long time. Me and him, him and me. Us. We are good together. This part of our story has been eventful and exciting. Truly, it has been a beautiful time. We have had many more ups than downs, many more laughs than cries. I like this chapter.

I can’t wait to welcome Baby D into our ‘us.’ But, truthfully, I am mourning the end of this chapter. This is yet another bittersweet time in our adoption journey. We will never be able to go back to this chapter. It has been written.

It has gone too fast. And while I am looking forward to the next chapter, I am hoping that the last week of this chapter goes slowly, and that I am able to savor every minute of it.

Today I am thankful for happy endings and new beginnings. May we get to have them both.

Waitlist buddy

The word is out: their wait is over.

Go celebrate with Heidi!

Joy

I’ve met many wonderful people along this adoption journey. There are people we’ve met over the last year and half that I know will be in our lives for years to come. The ups and downs, the joys and the sorrows, the beautiful faces of the children we are blessed with – all these things connect us.

There is one very special lady that has been by my side since we began: the beautiful Miss Joy. We began our adoption processes at the same time. Our home studies were done by the same agency just a few days apart. We compiled our dossiers together. We had our USCIS fingerprinting appointment together. We have spent time in each other’s homes, eaten meals together, stayed up late into the night talking, celebrated birthdays, and shared our lives.

Joy, me, and Lori (who deserves a whole post on her own!) on our first date, August 2008.

Due to some insurance paperwork delays, Joy and Jesse went on the waitlist more than a month after us. When we got our referral, Joy was one of the first people I called. Weeks later, I had a dream on a Sunday night that Joy and Jesse got their referral on a Monday. I sent her a text Monday morning telling her about my dream…and she immediately replied, saying that they were on their way home at that very minute because they had just gotten their referral call.

That was one of the many moments when I knew that I would be connected to Joy and her sweet Ethiopian babe for the rest of my life. We are connected through our beautiful children and their beautiful country. I still remember the tears that came when I saw Joy’s sweet Baby L the first time. The joy and pain that comes with a referral was nearly as real as when we first saw our Baby D.

Friends forever, November 2009.

Our second court date was the same day as Joy and Jesse’s first court date. When we were delayed for a few days, they were too. When we finally got word that we passed court, they did too.

In less than three weeks, Jake and I, along with Jesse and Joy , will travel to meet our babes. We will witness each other welcome a new child into our arms. I will watch her share her love with her third daughter, and she will watch me become a mother.

Since we began this journey, I have hoped that we would travel together. We’ve dreamt of our children together, and now we get to meet them together.

I can’t wait!

Baby's first Christmas

Happy first Christmas, baby boy.

We can't wait to hold you in our arms in just a few short weeks!

We are family!

We are so blessed. We are officially a family.

I'd like you to meet the most beautiful boy, our Baby D.

Our referral (10 weeks old)

His name, which means unforgettable.

Sweet boy, we are over the moon in love with you.

Fingers crossed!

We are so close!

Long story short: we didn't pass...yet. The judge left our case open. You see, there is this tiny piece of paper that is making its way to Addis. The judge needs this original. Once the judge gets this original (barring any other requests she may have), we should pass. We are hopeful this will happen early next week!

Almost there....

-j&b

About tomorrow.

Tomorrow is December 11th. It is our second court date. It is also exactly one year since we went on the wait list for our agency.

There was another family that went on the wait list the same day as us. Their request was for a group of young siblings. We were matched with our sweet son nearly 4 months ago. The other family?

They are still waiting to be matched.

So, while we may be one step closer tomorrow to bringing home Baby D, Mark and Heidi continue to wait just to see their children’s faces for the first time.

Here’s the thing about Heidi. She.is.awesome. Like mega-cool. She is encouraging, she is kind, she is thoughtful. You won’t hear her complain or grumble about the wait. Her and Mark have been waiting longer than any other family in the Ethiopia program. In fact, I think they now hold the record for the longest wait with our agency for Ethiopia. Folks, that is not a record most people would like to hold.

But Heidi remains steadfast. She continues to be involved in all of our lives. She celebrates referrals and court passings. She comes alongside us when things do not go as we had hoped.

I feel privileged to have traveled this road with Heidi.

Last year, we both celebrated being added to the wait list on December 11th. Wouldn’t it be great if we both had something to celebrate this December 11th?

From Jake: Leafrica

Sometimes I find things that are shaped like Africa. Like this leaf:

It helps me to think about our little man... and where he's coming from.

Here are some other flashbacks to Africa-themed "happenings" that

have helped me to stay connected with dreams of our family:

A snow drift in our backyard...

Cereal - and the home continent...

Sometimes you get to see the world in a different way. I guess it's

to remind us of realities happening in other places.

- Jake