Friday, December 19, 2014

Overlooked

I know the subject matter of this blog has shifted since our adoption. I try to put together cohesive blogposts about other things, but when I start typing, I just can't get anything out other than bringing it back to orphans. I can't help it. I have been so focused on the pro life movement for years, and this continues it for me. I saw the faces of children who will probably never be adopted. It hurts. It haunts me.

When I first saw Nico, he was a baby.



He was listed on Reece's Rainbow for a year by the time I had seen him. A YEAR. Many babies were listed after him and adopted. When we committed, our agency told us they had lost hope that he was ever going to be adopted, because no one ever followed through.

He should've been home with us in 2013, but the Russian adoption ban in December of 2012 stopped him from coming home and still stands today. Instead, all we have is pictures.

Another little boy was listed and overlooked for years, too.


Our sweetie, Maks. He was listed on Reece's Rainbow for TWO years. Families committed and then walked away. Families pulled his file but never took him home. God chose him for our family, and finally, at the age of 3.5, he came home.

Other babies were listed, chosen, adopted before he was. Why?

And now... I am hoping to be proven wrong... that the same thing is not happening to this little boy. Who has been listed, and others have been listed after him, but he still waits, while the others have been chosen and adopted.

Why?




Is adoption hard? Yes. Is it worth it? Absolutely.

I can't adopt them all, you guys. If God calls us to, I'd love to add Truman to our family. But he could be chosen by YOU. NOW.

Don't let him wait. Don't let him suffer anymore. Don't let him be overlooked.

Please pray for him, for whoever his family is. Donate if you can. Share his sweet face.

If you feel called, jump. Jump off that cliff for this angel. God will catch you. Be not afraid.

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Sunday, December 7, 2014

One Year Ago Today - Finale - Home!

Our trip home started early in the morning. I had only slept for 2 hours. Niko drove us to the airport while listening to YMCA and The Cure's "Lovesong." I cried through Lovesong. The Cure has been my favorite for years, and it was such a perfect song for the end of a long trip where I had met, bonded, and was now bringing home my newest son.

I knew that the trip home was not going to be pretty. Traveling alone with a newborn and a 3.5 year old who couldn't walk was never something that was going to be easy.

Niko got us checked in at the airport, I hugged him, thanked him, and tipped him, and we said our goodbyes as we entered the gates. Oh, how I didn't expect to miss them so much.

We waited a while in the children's lounge and then the Lufthansa staff let us board the plane first. Maks was very tired, since it was 4 am, and we hadn't slept much, but he was doing great. We boarded the plane and he was happy as can be. I gave him some juice, and then he threw it up all over himself. It was then that I realized that I didn't have a shirt to change him into.

Our first flight was only about an hour and a half to Frankfurt. When we got there, Maks was asleep, and we exited the plane to find our next gate. We were told it had been moved, so we walked and walked and walked and walked and walked (I DESPISE that airport!), until we found the new gate. That gate wasn't right, either. I had steam coming out of my ears by this time... I stood and studied the sign, to no avail. I gave up. I had a 4 hour layover, and I'd find it later, after I had some coffee. Maks slept. Too much... But I got a chocolate croissant and some coffee, met some adoptive parents from Bulgaria who were obviously about as flustered as I was at that point already, and rested for a bit.
For the love, do NOT let your kids sleep on the layover before a 10 hr flight!!!

Someone helped me find my gate and they told us to wait and they would help us board... They made us wait until everyone else had boarded. Again, I was not happy. But, when they took us back to our seat and I realized we had a bassinet, I was ok. Then I saw that we were seated next to a 40ish year old man, and I apologized, "I am going to apologize in advance," I said, "this is going to be ugly." He said not to worry, and let me tell you, that man was a Godsend. I had been praying that we would not be seated next to someone cranky for that flight. And we weren't. He helped me more than he could ever know, and I am forever grateful for his kindness.

The stewardesses showered both boys with gifts, and we settled in for our 10 hour flight. It was a bit of a struggle from the get go. The arm rests would not fold up in these seats, and Maks wanted to snuggle. He was frustrated that I couldn't hold him, because I was trying to get Sam to go to sleep, so he would smack him whenever he could. He wouldn't watch the movies, or play with toys, or anything. If I tried to put Sam down in the bassinet, he'd cry. The man next to us drank a lot, but helped with Maks and didn't mind one bit if Maks pet his arm hair, or otherwise bothered him.

After about 5 hours of that nonsense, the kind man fell asleep, and Sam decided that was a great time to have his first poopy diaper blowout ever. I took both boys to the back of the plane, where the only changing table is, as Maks pet every man's arm hair on the way. We had to wait a few mins, and when we got in, the bathroom reeked. I put the baby on the changing table, and Maks stuck his hand in the poopy toilet. I screeched, he laughed. I washed him up while holding onto the baby, then opened the door, found the closest stewardess and begged her to take Sam for a minute while I cleaned up Mr. Poopyhands. She didn't even care that Sam was covered in poop too. She showed him all around that plane, all the ladies squealed in delight as I cleaned up my crazy boy. He decided that pooping in his own diaper would be fun right after I changed him, and I realized I was not only out of diapers for him, but I didn't have a change of clothes for Sam. "What am I, a new mother?!" I thought... Thankfully, they had spare diapers on the plane, and I was able to get Sam cleaned up a bit and swaddled him up for the next 5 hours of the flight...

We went back to our seats and the kind man actually apologized for falling asleep! I was finally able to get Sam asleep and into the bassinet, and then I put "Planes" on the tv and held Maks tight so that maybe, just maybe he'd fall asleep too. Just as he'd fall asleep, a woman and her rowdy toddler would run by screeching and wake him up. This happened 2 or 3 times. I was so exhausted, I can't even explain... I had a glass of wine, thank goodness Lufthansa gives it for free. I needed it. He finally fell asleep around hour 8. I nodded off for about 20 minutes. He woke up about hour 9 and we had about an hour left. He cried in his seat the whole time. The kind man did everything he could to help me quiet him down, but it didn't help. Luckily, those planes are so loud, I doubt anyone else could really hear him.

When we landed in Denver, I was so dizzy and delirious. There was some mix up with my strollers, and I had to get to my next gate within an hour and 20 minutes. Luckily, an airport employee and some other kind people helped me. I got my luggage, grabbed clothes and diapers out of it for the boys, got through customs and everything else, made the mistake of stepping onto a moving sidewalk (phew! Almost fell!), changed the boys in the bathroom, and made it to my next gate.

I was charging my phone and was pretty much in a fog, when a man came up and said that Maks reminded him of his son, who is 8, and also has Down syndrome. I told him that we were on our way home from Ukraine and that we were glad to meet him. He was so nice, and had tears in his eyes.

Luckily, the last flight from Denver to Phoenix is a short one. We were seated next to another man, with incredibly irresistible arm hair, and I was the most exhausted I have ever been in my life. I have given birth to 5 babies, but it doesn't even compare. I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I would nod off, then snap awake and realize Maks was petting the man next to us. I finally wrapped my arm around him, put the baby on my shoulder, and tightly held them both and passed out for about 45 minutes. Maks fell asleep too. I awoke to the news that we were starting our descent and I started crying. I couldn't stop crying. I'd get it under control, and then think of seeing my girls again, and cry again. The kind man that talked to us in Denver offered to carry Maks out of the plane, that he'd be honored, and I graciously accepted. Angels. God blessed us with so many angels on the way home.



I came down the ramp and saw my grandma, grandpa, and Aunt Tarry. My girls weren't there yet. I was still crying. And then I saw Kyle, Amelia, and Lily, and cried some more. Our friends were there too. Then Tessa and Charlotte came, and they seemed confused. We all hugged, fawned over Maks, the photographer took pictures, we headed over to luggage, and then headed home. On the way home we bought Maks his first Happy Meal and my beloved Dr. Pepper and fries (even though they didn't taste good because I was too exhausted).




Oh, it was good to be home.





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Friday, December 5, 2014

One Year Ago Today - Part 4 - Gotcha!!!

This year flew by. Most years of parenting do, but wow, this one really did.

A year ago today I spent all day waiting for that phone call. The one where our facilitator would say he had our boy's passport and we were ready to break him free; to start our new lives together.

That phone call did not come until 5 pm. The sun goes down in the fall/winter in Ukraine at 3:45 pm, so it was quite dark. We headed to the bank, then back to get my stuff and give the keys to the landlord ("What do you call in English?" "Landlord." "OK... like Lord of all Laaaaand!" -me and Niko, haha) Then we went to the orphanage to get my boy! We went to the office, handed them our donations, and I left baby Sam with Niko and the others while I went to get Maks changed into his own clothes. 75 layers of them, of course. He was not in his regular groupa's room, all the kids were gathered around for story time in another room. I got to see some kids I hadn't seen before. They were all so sweet and happy.

We went into that groupa's bedrooms, which was full of cribs with no sheets. I am hoping they were just being washed, because I don't feel like that orphanage would be the type to keep babies on plastic mattresses with no sheets. But I don't know for sure.

One of the nannies helped me get him dressed while I took pictures.




Eventually, Niko came to find us and I picked him up and carried him out. Maks blew kisses to all of his friends and they all said, "Paka paka, mama!" It broke my heart, but I had to focus on the joy.

We got back to the office and they gave me his file (which included his baptismal certificate, two crosses,  and medical info) and some medicine for his eye. Niko carried Maks and I carried Sam, and Maks smiled ear to ear looking over his shoulder at me. I wish I had a picture, but it was too dark to take good ones.

We got into the car, and headed to Kiev. It was a 2 hour drive, but he was happy the entire time.


He watched all the lights, junked out on cookies, "talked" to Nico, and just had a blast.

When we got into our apartment, it was pretty late at night, so I got him ready for bed, but he wouldn't let me leave his sight. This sweet boy wanted me to hold his hand while he fell asleep, but I needed to do embassy paperwork, so I stood in the livingroom with my iPad on the tv so he could see me, and made sure I did not leave his sight until he was asleep. It was so utterly sweet, and I couldn't believe it.



When you prepare for adoption, you have to expect anything. Many of these children have traumatic histories, or do not transition well. I was prepared for that. I was waiting for that. I was waiting for temper tantrums, fear, mourning, anything... but it never happened. Our boy was lucky enough to have been in a decent orphanage, with strong bonds to his caregivers (this is not typical!!) All of the prayers that had been said on behalf of us and our sweet boy had worked. His heart was ready for us. He was ours.

Gotcha, Maksimka. Forever and ever.


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