Loving Leah, Tommy, and Nicolas

Done and Done-In

2012-01-31T20:35:00.003-06:00

Whew. I am so glad today is over, and so not looking forward to the run of craziness yet to come in the next few weeks due to our appointment overload. It seems that everything happens at once! When it rains doctor's appointments, it pours them.

We ended up spending an hour at the hospital this afternoon, and about 80% of that time was waiting, waiting, waiting to be called. The boys were miraculously angelic. Really. I was shocked at how patient they were, especially because we were waiting in a regular, adult waiting room and I spent most of the time reading to them from Family Circle and Better Homes and Gardens.

The actual blood draw went fairly well. They found a vein quickly, for which I am grateful. I think they had the arm band on too tight though, because his blood was pumping out way way too slowly (and of course he was screaming and flailing the entire time), but it's done now. Tommy was fascinated by the entire process. Maybe we should start saving for Med school. Both boys were pleased to receive juice and Teddy Grahams at the end of the ordeal, and anything graham goes a long way to solve Nicolas' problems.

I am physically exhausted from the ordeal, and also from taking them to get some groceries afterwards. Not my preference, but we were out of milk and low on fruit. My children are fruit monsters, so the situation had to be remedied at almost any cost.

Thank you for your prayers for Nic! Please continue to pray that the results from the tests are good. It's going to be a long week as we wait for the news.

Dangerous

2012-01-30T21:16:00.000-06:00

This morning we got started a little later than usual, since I'm still dragging a bit from my cold. Thus I was rushing by the time I hit the shower, trying to get ready in time for the arrival of Nic's speech therapist. While thus indisposed, I heard a loud crash...and then silence. I figured no crying was a good sign, so I didn't jump out to check. A few minutes later Tommy runs into the bathroom to deliver this lovely nugget of information:

"Mom, Nicolas is doing something DANGEROUS."

I ran out to this scene:

Nicolas had taken their entire box of audio tapes (yes, I said tapes - we are old school around here), dumped it out, opened and separated every case, removed every tape, taken out every tape liner, and scattered them all across our living room floor. He was so pleased with himself. Look at this smile:

Needless to say I had a whole lot more to do in even less time than I had planned. At least we didn't get locked in any rooms this time, and there was no drooling...

Please pray for the aforementioned troublemaker tomorrow (Tues) at 1pm CST (11am PST). He is having a big blood draw and he is not going to enjoy it.

As Predicted...

2012-01-27T20:04:00.000-06:00

in my last post, someone got sick. Me. The funny thing about taking a "sick day" when you have two energetic boys is that it is almost less restful to stay home than it is to drag yourself out of the house. I need to remember that next time.

I woke up Thursday aching and congested, and decided we would not be making the trek to story-time/playgroup at the library. I knew that if I didn't get my rest on Thursday I would be in big trouble come Friday when I had to get Nic to his audiologist appointment. After all, all this speech therapy would be for naught if the child can't actually hear any of it. Thus, I announced at breakfast that we were having a special stay-home day. Over the course of the day the boys had an extra long bath, played construction, cars, read books and listened to music. Because Tommy has recently decided that cooking is the best kind of fun, we made a crock-pot full of potato soup, two tortilla casseroles (one for dinner, one for the freezer), a loaf of cinnamon raisin swirl bread, and did the million dishes associated with all that cooking. By the end of the day I was wiped out, and it was time for the boys to watch part of a movie so that I could sit down and try not to pass out. I've learned my lesson - never get sick again. At least the boys had a lot of fun.

Today we made it to MOPS, and it was a very low-key meeting so I think I got more rest there than I did all of yesterday. We hit up "Old McDonald's" by way of bribery/reward for attending yet another appointment, and then went to Easter Seals. I feel rather sorry for Tommy these days because Nicolas has had so many appointments (and will have many more in the coming weeks), and thus not only is Nicolas getting to play with new fun toys and receiving special attention, Tommy has to sit fairly idly and watch all of this happen. Of course I bring special toys for Tommy to play with, but for an extrovert like Tommy toys do not make up for missing out on interaction. Today Nic got to sit on my lap and watch light-up animals making sounds in a little booth while playing with squishy Thomas the Train toys...and Tommy really wanted in on that action. At least next week when we go for Nic's blood draw Tommy will be pleased not to participate.

The audiologist appointment went well. Nic sat through all of the tests very nicely and fussed only minimally about having strange objects stuck in his ears. Also, his ears got a fairly good cleaning from all the squishy things being poked into them (I know because they came out super gross - but I follow the directions on q-tips and do not stick them into my kid's ears so there is bound to be wax in there). He passed the tests on one side and had borderline results on the other. We have to go back in two months to retest, because the audiologist believes that the mixed-results were due to congestion/negative pressure on the ear drum, and while she thinks that will clear up on its own, she still wants to check it. In any case, her verdict was that even if he does have a small problem in one ear, it is minor and should not be affecting his speech development. I am thankful to have this particular cause for delay ruled out. My limited experience with baby signs has convinced me that sign language is not one of my gifts.

In other appointment news, the insurance approved Nic's tests for his upcoming hematology appointment, praise God! He is scheduled to lose a few vials of blood next week, which should allow plenty of time for the tests to be completed before his appointment. Please pray for his fetal hemoglobin levels. We want those to stay elevated, as those cells are the ones that are keeping him healthy and preventing his sickle cells from causing problems in his body. We are hoping for 38% fetal cells in his blood, the amount he had last time, and the typical amount for adults with persistent fetal hemoglobin...which is what we are hoping he has.

Finally, for Jess, who has requested recipes that use cream soups...here is a favorite in our family, and it just so happens I made it this week. It is from my Aunt Robin's Taste of Home Cookbook. It calls for turkey, but if it isn't right after Thanksgiving I use chicken.

Turkey Tortilla Casserole

Combine and simmer until vegetables are tender:

1/2 c chopped onion
1/2 c chicken broth
1/4 c chopped celery

In a large bowl stir together undrained vegetable/broth mixture and the following items:

3 c chopped cooked turkey or chicken
10-12 corn tortillas, torn into bite-sized pieces
1 4-oz can Cream of Chicken soup
1 t pepper
1 t salt

Stir in:

1/2 c shredded cheddar cheese
1/2 c Jack cheese

Transfer mixture to a lightly greased 9 by 13 pan (a 9 by 9 works too, but it will be very full- this is what I do).

Top with:

1 c mild salsa
1/2 c cheddar
1/2 c jack

Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes or until heated through. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Tearing the tortillas is a pain, so when I do it myself I cut them with kitchen shears. However, tearing them is a great task for little helpers...so I let Tommy sit and do it while I put the rest of the recipe together.

Abundance

2012-01-25T19:22:00.001-06:00

I am a bad bible study leader who missed the first week of our new study because I was still on vacation in CA. I would feel super bad about it, but I think I was probably lying on the beach while everyone else was shivering in the church library...enough said? Anyway, based on the conversation the week I returned, everyone picked a new word to focus on for the year. Last time, I chose contentment.

I would be lying if I said that I had mastered the art of perfect contentment. I have not. However, I have managed to lay aside a good portion of my unnecessary grumbling, both in my utterances and thoughts. I do still struggle on snowy days, or worse, freezing rain days, when I have to trudge outside to do the laundry, but overall I have felt much more at peace. I have even learned to see the bright side of small apartment living (so much less vacuuming!) and have come to terms with the impermanence of Jeff's current job.

Considering that our apartment is about to feel a whole lot smaller come May/the arrival of the baby, and that Jeff's current contract is non-renewable, contentment might be a smart thing for me to continue to focus on. I seriously considered it. However, the more I thought about it, the more short-sighted it felt. Contentment, or being satisfied and happy with what you have, is very important. But the longer I spend actually feeling satisfied with what I have, the more I realize that it is absurd that I wasn't before. I live in a situation that the vast majority of the world would envy. I have 850 square feet of climate controlled, safe, housing. I have not only enough food, but more food than I need. I share ownership of a car, loads of furniture, and more kitchen appliances than can possibly be necessary. I worship freely every Sunday and can meet openly with my peers to study God's word. I have been allowed to steward four precious lives, and wake up each morning to care for the three that I am blessed to have with me. I have an amazing husband who loves me so much (and don't worry, I love him too). I also have a wonderful extended family and caring friends. Talk about abundance!

Thus, abundance is my word for this year. Instead of focusing on the gap between what I think I need to feel happy, satisfied, or complete and what I actually have, I am declaring that what I have is not only enough, it is more than enough. It is abundant.

Now that I've stated publicly that my life is abundant and I am focusing on abundance this year, I'm sure that this is going to get a whole lot harder. In fact, I know it is because it's winter and freezing out and the walls of my apartment are going to feel like they are shrinking once somebody gets sick and we get stuck in here for a whole week. My skin is starting to crawl just thinking about it. So, this is the verse I will be clinging to on those days when I need a little reminder:

Psalm 66:
¹⁰ For You have tried us, O God;
         You have refined us as silver is refined.
¹¹ You brought us into the net;
         You laid an oppressive burden upon our loins.
¹² You made men ride over our heads;
         We went through fire and through water,
         Yet You brought us out into a place of abundance.

Fun in the Snow

2012-01-22T14:17:00.005-06:00

Amy went up to Evanston yesterday afternoon for a baby shower for a good friend of ours, so the boys and I had a fun guys' day full of quesadillas, Bob Dylan, and playing outside in the snow!

Our Week In Review

2012-01-20T16:23:00.001-06:00

It's been one crazy week. We spent the first half of the week in a vicious nap/staying up late/sleeping-in cycle with Tommy thanks to jet lag. I think we are done with it, but it was not fun for anyone, especially in the morning. We started up all of our activities this week, and that went well - the kids were very excited to see their friends and get back to their schedule.

Nic had his first "speech" appointment, which might be more appropriately described as his first "sign language" appointment. I have nothing against baby signs. We used them a bit with Tommy, and have used the very basics with Nic (eat, more, please, thank you), but we are apparently moving into a more hard-core use of signs. I'm not entirely sure why, in fact I am positive that I read somewhere that extensive use of signs delays verbal expression, so I am a wee bit skeptical about this approach. That said, I am doing everything that they ask and Nic is now using all but one of the signs that were introduced at this week's session. This has been frustrating for Nic, because he had a fairly good system in place for communicating what he wanted and that has now been disrupted. However, since he picked up on his signs so quickly it hasn't been horrible. The therapist was very pleased with Nic's participation at the session, but not happy with his lack of vocalization, since he made almost no noise the entire time except a few "neutral sounds." Right now I am supposed to be training him to mimic adults so that when the therapist asks him to try a sound he will respond. Interesting story: we were reading one of Nic's favorite books, and I asked him to make a "Baa" sound. He looks at me and does a perfect "Baa." So I clapped and encouraged him and tried to get him to do it again. He looks at me, smiles smugly, and turns his head away, then points for me to read the book again. He is such a stinker! (Yes, Nic has a known "smug" smile...the child totally knows when he is being mischievous). I am really hoping he doesn't decide that the stubborn game is one he wants to play continuously...especially with the therapist. It's so funny because Tommy is dying to participate in Nic's therapy. He keeps trying to sneak in and answer the questions and play the games; he just loves showing off his skills. Nic, on the other hand, doesn't seem to care about performing, he just wants to do what interests him. (I love how different my kids are - it really is fun to get to know them as such different people).

I had another appointment with the OB and I brought the boys. This time no one asked me how I managed to have a family without giving birth. Mission Accomplished! I kept them strapped in the stroller for the whole time, so they didn't cause much of a commotion. Second mission accomplished: I totally gained weight and I don't have to worry about it anymore. They started measuring my uterus this time, and it is completely on track, so that seems good. Next appointment I have all my blood tests and my shot for having a negative blood-type. Ugh. I hate shots. I turn 25 weeks on Sunday, and after that I will officially be the most pregnant I have ever been (Leah was born at 25 weeks to the day). Tomorrow (snow permitting) I get to pick up my newly hemmed maternity pants, and it will be good-bye jeans and belly band combo. Hopefully the new pants will be more comfortable. I also got all the paperwork sorted out so I can have my follow up ultrasound for my low lying placenta in another six weeks. Apparently I had a referral to the high-risk doctor for more visits than anyone could need, but they were all in relation to SRPS. Since he has ruled out SRPS, I needed new paperwork for this new complication, but it has been procured and everything has been arranged.

Nic has an appointment with his hematologist in early February, so it is time for yet another big blood draw for the poor guy. Despite having done this before (twice) it has required a number of emails, phone calls, faxes, and paperwork, and it is probably only half-way to happening. Please pray that his insurance is willing to approve the tests at the facility that our hematologist prefers, and that the approvals will come in time so we don't have to reschedule our appointment. If we have to do the tests at the lab our pediatrician/medical group usually uses then our hematologist won't get to review the slides himself, and the state of Nic's blood on the slides tells him useful information (and is not an official test that the lab records). We really want our hematologist to have as much information as possible when he reviews Nic's case. Between my medical paperwork and Nic's I feel like I have spent half the week on the phone! In reality it was probably like 30 minutes total...

Now it is snowing like crazy. I have time to blog because Jeff got sent home from work early, which is always a treat! He and Tommy are having an awfully good time reading books and playing cards while Mum has a break...in the afternoon...it's crazy! Yay for snow!

Stranded!

2012-01-19T07:35:00.000-06:00

Our attempt to leave California was foiled by a snowstorm in Chicago. This gave us another chance to eat more and see a few people we missed on the first round. We also may have managed one last trip to the beach...because it was 75 and one really shouldn't not be at the beach when it is that warm in January. Although I was more than a little disappointed when I found out we wouldn't be heading back as scheduled (seriously, I was missing Jeff and loathed the idea of re-packing our bags), by the end of the beach day I was feeling less out of sorts. It also helped that I didn't unpack much, so re-packing was not the ordeal that the initial packing turned out to be. Below are pictures of our Chic-Fil-A date (at the new "sit-down" restaurant) with Aunt Emily, Aunt Annie, Molly, and my parents, and our time at the beach. The kids both really loved the beach this trip. Tommy has finally plucked up the courage to go in the water a tiny bit by himself, and to go pretty deep with help (my mom took him and tells me he was singing "Oh the Deep Deep love of Jesus" as the water rose). Nic still prefers splashing in a bucket and playing in the sand, but he also dipped his toes in on this trip. You will note there are no pictures of me at the beach, despite my mother's attempts to photograph me in her old, stretched-out Land's End tankini (for the record this is nothing against tankinis. There are many cute tankinis in this world. This is not one of them). My dad's comment on this was that I was wearing a very old-lady like suit. It was true, I looked like a grandmother. My own mother looked way better than me because she has recently upgraded to a much cuter tankini. But nothing else fit. I will endure that humiliation on the beach for my children, but NOT ON MY BLOG.

Goodbye (First Attempt)

2012-01-18T10:44:00.000-06:00

Our first attempt at leaving California involved lots of eating and visiting relatives. It is very important to eat as much Mexican food as you can before leaving California, because it just doesn't taste the same in Illinois. Unfortunately we didn't get pictures at all of our stops, but below you will see us chowing at El Burrito, visiting Great Gran, and having lunch with Aunt Emily in LA.

Maternity Madness

2012-01-12T08:01:00.000-06:00

In two weeks I will officially be more pregnant than I have ever been, and it will be all new territory from there on out. However, my body already feels more pregnant than I ever felt with Leah, I think because I am now bigger than I ever was last pregnancy (and I probably have been fore 2 to 3 weeks now). I am happy to report that I still have a belly button, for now, and as of yet no varicose veins. I am unhappy to report that the whole "carrying low" thing is extremely unpleasant already. I thought the second trimester was supposed to be the honeymoon period of one's pregnancy, with morning sickness a thing of the past (true) and aches and pains and sleepless nights yet to come. Instead, I have a child that spends all day bouncing up and down on my bladder. Even when I don't have to go the bathroom I feel like I need to, and I am learning to live with the feeling, because it is annoying to run to the bathroom every fifteen minutes and realize that it was for nothing. Also, my hips are starting to ache, I think they may be working on the whole spreading apart thing, that or the little mister using them for his acrobatics. I am fairly convinced that at this point my uterus/placenta are not properly migrating because nothing feels like it is moving upwards and there is no more room for it to grow down unless it decides to travel down one of my legs (writing that reminded me of the old female moodiness/mental illness being caused by a wandering uterus school of medicine, and while that theory is obviously ridiculous I have also always thought that it was a funny). I am convinced that I have gained tons of weight in the last few weeks because I am much bigger, so now I will resume more normal eating habits lest my doctor tell me to lose weight next appointment. Thank you wheel of brie, wedge of cranberry wensleydale, berry pie a la mode, double doubles, mayonaise, and popcornopolis zebra corn, you have done your job well.

I am feeling much better about things since our twenty week ultrasound. I still have moments panic over the possibility that the doctors were wrong (ultrasound diagnosis is never 100 percent), or when I remember that are a bunch of other things that could go wrong, or if I haven't felt the baby move in a while, but overall things are much better. I was able to maintain my sanity whilst shopping for maternity clothes- an activity that almost sent me over the edge the first time I tried it at about 14 weeks. In fact, that night was probably the worst night of sleep I have gotten this entire pregnancy. This time I was able to shop without anxiety, which was a nice change. Well, I had some anxiety since apparently I am too tall for the "short" jeans and too short for the "regular" jeans, so now I have to get myself to the tailor and have my maternity pants hemmed pronto because my regular jeans held on by a rubber band are just not that comfortable anymore. Since the 20 week I have had one nightmare about delivery (it was so awful that I don't feel like recounting it), and I woke up completely panicked, but thankfully it hasn't happened again. My next appointment is next week, and this time I am taking the boys so as to prove they exist and prevent my being annoyed when the OB (the last one I have to meet) inevitably asks me how I managed to have children without being pregnant. I think the answer is fairly obvious in person...

Thomas the Train and Richard Nixon

2012-01-10T08:41:00.000-06:00

Last week (while Jeff was still here) we had the opportunity to go to the Nixon library to see their Christmas train exhibit. I know, every time you think of Richard Nixon TRAINS are the first thing that comes to mind. For whatever reason, probably because it brings in visitors and makes money, the Nixon Library does a big train display every year. They have one massive Lego train exhibit, designed and built by a local lego club, as well as a separate exhibit featuring four different displays of regular electric trains, one of which featured (current favorites) Thomas and James. Tommy was absolutely fascinated by all the trains, and Nic was interested enough. They also have a presidential helicopter on display, tours of the house that Nixon was born in, and of course an exhibit on the Nixon presidency. The boys really liked the helicopter, tolerated the house, and were not at all interested in the actual exhibits except for the big computer touch screens in the new Watergate display. I was surprised that they lasted as long as they did....I barely made it!

Game Day!

2012-01-06T12:38:00.000-06:00

So, our bowl game didn't go exactly as we hoped...or well at all, BUT, the boys looked great watching it. We all know that that is what really matters...

Tide Pools!

2012-01-05T20:32:00.000-06:00

Crazy surf

Rock Climbing

Growing Bump

Yesterday the weather was a glorious 80 °F, so we decided we HAD to get outside and enjoy it. We opted for the tide pools instead of the regular beach (we've already done that a few times) and it proved to be the perfect, if exhausting, choice.

We drove to White Point and had a picnic lunch as we waited for low tide. There are some awesome rocks around the beach, so I taught Tommy a few rock "climbing" (aka scrambling) techniques, and we watched the waves together for a bit. Then we ventured into the actual pools. There was a very high and wild surf, so we stayed away from the outer banks of the pools where all the really good creatures are, but safety is more important than sea cucumbers...

In the lower pools we did find lots of neat shells, as many hermit crabs as one could ever want to see, mussels, barnacles, sea anemones, and little fishy things. Tommy enjoyed collecting shells and looking at the various creatures, while Nic wanted to splash around with all of them. He was putting his little toes in with the hermit crabs, poking (gently) at anemones, and spent the entire time wading and splashing. As the tide began coming back in there were some pretty spectacular waves breaking along the outer banks, so we sat and watched those for a while to both boys' delight. Then we poked around at a nearby land conservancy/nature center before heading home.

It was so much fun, but all of that activity wiped me out (and the kids too). It is a lot harder to lug kids over rocky tide pools and over trails when you are great with child than when you are not. We were so hungry when we got home that Tommy at 3 1/2 of my mom's special tacos...which is more than I can eat! For my part, I could barely stay awake to get myself into bed. I must say that it was entirely worth it though. The boys had such a good time that I would do it over again in a heartbeat...aching feet and all.

Tommy's First Bike

2011-12-28T10:54:00.000-06:00

When we last "talked Christmas" my Aunt Annie mentioned to me that my Uncle Kenny was working on a "special present" for Tommy. Now, Tommy and Uncle Kenny share a deep love of Hot Wheels, thus I assumed it was some type of Hot Wheels themed present and didn't think about it again. Come Christmas day, I found out that Uncle Kenny, who is also an avid and accomplished bicyclist, BUILT Tommy a bike. I had no idea. Tommy (obviously) had no idea. It was a great surprise.

Check out the bike. It is so darn cool. Tommy was enraptured by the flames, or as he said, "There's FIRE on my bike!"

At the end of the day I asked Tommy what his favorite part of Christmas was, and he responded, "I got a bicycle!"

Three Days of Crazy

2011-12-27T23:09:00.000-06:00

We have had an eventful few days, to say the least. The crazy began on Christmas Eve. We woke up for a family breakfast and got a very special surprise...Uncle Kevin and Aunt Colleen! A few months back my youngest sibling, Kevin, moved to Seattle and he recently started a new job with a crazy schedule. He had been told that he would not have Christmas off, so all of us thought we would be spending Christmas without him. At the last minute he was able to get two days off (a Christmas miracle!), so he scheduled a flight down but only told my parents. I admit, he totally got me. I suspected nothing. It was a great Christmas treat!

After our breakfast we went down to the beach for a walk and some time playing in the sand. The water was a bit too cold for a swim, but it was beautiful (70s), so at least we got to soak up some sunshine. In the evening we went to church with Jeff's family, then had our "traditional" chinese food dinner with my family.

Christmas morning we started early and had breakfast with my family, opening presents, then went to Jeff's mom's place for a gathering with his family. Tommy spent the majority of that time running around with his cousin, and managed to totally wear himself out, just in time for us to go for Christmas dinner at my Aunt's house (my mom's extended family). By eight o'clock Jeff and I were about ready to fall over, we were so tired. The children were still going, of course.

On the day after Christmas mom, my sister (the pregnant one) and I hit the mall, because I really really needed some clothes that actually fit. We pretty much cleaned out the smalls in Old Navy's maternity department, but that is mostly because they don't stock enough! From there we went to Cox Christmas (my Dad's extended family). With four boys between 3 and 5 it was quite the wild rumpus.

And now, we rest. Well, as much as parents of two boys can ever rest...

Merry Christmas From the Klugs!

2011-12-26T23:05:00.001-06:00

Southern California style...

Four Christmases

2011-12-24T20:49:00.001-06:00

Rocking Around The Christmas Tree

2011-12-23T17:37:00.015-06:00

After weeks of asking for a Christmas tree Tommy's dreams have come true. On Wednesday night we took a trip to In-N-Out burger (yum!) followed by a swing through the tree lot. Tommy was drawn to the shorter trees, and no one objected since for some reason the difference between a 5-6 foot tree and a 6 to 7 foot tree is fifteen dollars. You certainly don't pay by the foot.

Thursday night we had our big decorating party, complete with Amy Grant's Christmas Album (first one, obviously), a fire, and peppermint ice cream. Jjaja, Papa, Aunt Emily, Aunt Katie, and Uncle Jeremy joined in the fun, and it didn't take long at all to get the little tree looking festive.

Picking out the tree:

At the tree lot

Feeling the needles

Smelling the needles

Decorating:

Tommy got to put the angel on this year

But he had to fight Aunt Emily for the privilege

In case you were wondering why Emily and I are looking so odd, we took MANY group photos and none of them are good of all of us. Towards the end of the photo session, Em and I started mocking (with love, of course) Jeremy and Katie's weird baby bump poses (my sister is pregnant too, due May 10). That is why Emily has her hand lovingly rubbing my bump.

All- Clear!

2011-12-20T14:23:00.005-06:00

We are done with ultrasounds until 30 weeks! Yay! The doctor finally gave us the thumbs-up in terms of the baby's health- he is SRPS free!

There was a small issue detected during the ultrasound- my placenta is rather low. This is not necessarily alarming, but I do have to go in for a check-up in ten weeks to make sure that it re-positions correctly as my uterus expands. Everything else looked great.

We had a new tech this time, after having the same (wonderful) woman for every other ultrasound. The new tech was very nice, but she had clearly not read our file. I really stinking wish they would read our file beforehand. When she was checking the baby's feet I asked about the presence of extra toes, and she said that she didn't see any, then she added, "you know, there are worse things to have than polydactyly." Which would be true if your child had non-lethal polydactyly, but when extra fingers and toes are a sign that your child will die shortly after birth, well, it doesn't get much worse than that. READ THE FILE!!!

I went straight from the ultrasound appointment to my regular OB appointment. I saw a new OB, and once again the OB was totally confused by my mentioning that I had children (in response to a question about what I do all day). It went like this:

OB: "Oh, I guess we have somehow missed those pregnancies in our records."
Me: "My children were adopted, so I didn't have any pregnancies."
OB: "Oh, well, we only keep track of pregnancies."

Yes, I know because I keep having to explain it. At least I was in a good mood from the earlier scan, but I was a little miffed because I know that during my last appointment the OB made a specific point of entering Tommy and Nic into my records so that this wouldn't keep happening. The good news is that I have only one more OB to meet, so at most I should only have to explain the miracle of adoption one more time.

The only interesting thing that occurred at the appointment was the doctor's parting words to me: "I almost never say this to my patients, but please, feel free to eat as much as you want over the holidays. If you want an extra cookie, have an extra cookie. Eat as much as you want." This is just what I wanted to hear, and in case you wondered, brought about by the fact that despite excessive dessert eating I only gained a pound this month. I actually don't really like holiday foods like turkey and mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing etc (although I don't mind eating them once or twice a year) but I love and adore PIE. Note to whoever is ordering the pies for Christmas day- I want a quarter of a berry pie all to myself, and really good vanilla ice-cream. Also, I feel that a few extra trips to In-N-Out should be in my future. Animal fries here I come!

Let the Intervention Begin

2011-12-19T21:08:00.007-06:00

Today we had Nic's early intervention meeting. His coordinator, the two evaluating therapists, and I all met to discuss the "level of support" that our family will be receiving in the coming months. We also had to set a goal for Nicolas, and it had to be in my words. Now, I understand that goals are a positive thing, but really my only goal for all of this is for Nic to not be delayed, and since I was responsible for wording the goal, that was the phrase I chose. "My goal is for my son to not be delayed." Yes, this mom aims high. But what was I supposed to say? At the end of six months I hope my son can recite the entire US Constitution? (Although that would be the height of history-cool for a <2 year old).

The rest of the meeting was the therapists summarizing what they told me before. The developmental therapist reiterated that at first she thought Nic would need services (remember the tongue chewing?), but by the end of her appointment she was convinced that she could not justify recommending them. Instead, she proposed reevaluating in three months to make sure he continues on-track. I agreed. The speech therapist let the other two know that she was only concerned about his expressive speech, and that she was only recommending up to one hour a week of therapy.

On an adoption-frustration side note, one of the things she brought up was our complete lack of knowledge regarding Nic's gestation and birth. Nic was a tiny tiny fellow when we first got his measurements, and we don't know if that was due entirely to maternal malnutrition or if it was linked to prematurity. If Nicolas was born even a month premature, and if we knew about it, then he would not be considered delayed because they adjust for prematurity on the scale. If only we knew.

After the speech therapist made her recommendations I got to pick how much support we would be accepting. I got to choose between twice a month or four times a month. Now, I would have preferred to go with only twice a month, because I suspect that will probably be enough for us, but when I asked what would happen if we went with twice a month and then wanted to upgrade if that wasn't working, I found out that it would be very difficult to do that. Even though the therapist was approving us for up to four times a month, we would have to redo all the evaluations and meetings to switch from two to four times a month. However, if we start with four times a month and feel it is overkill it only takes a phone call to switch to twice a month. I want to keep things flexible, so I chose to start with four times a month. Apparently the goal of the therapist is to teach me skills to work with Nicolas during the week, and so the frequency of meetings and the efficacy of the therapy all depend on how quickly I learn and how well I implement the strategies...and here I thought I was getting off easy when Nic qualified!

I am very thankful that all of these meetings are done, and that we will be able to get started after the holidays. It's odd though, I swear to you in the four days since the speech therapist came that Nicolas has already increased his skills (or perhaps I am noticing skills he already had?). Having her tell me what Nic needs to be doing has gotten me to think about trying to get him to perform tasks or imitate words that I didn't try before. Jeff has also pointed out to me that some of my answers to the therapist's questions were wrong. Not intentionally (of course), but because I can't remember all the little things that Nicolas does (especially if I don't know what I am supposed to be looking for in advance). Oh well, at least this scatter-brained mom will be receiving some "support" on behalf of her deprived second son.

In new baby news, tomorrow is the BIG ultrasound. We are really hoping to get the "all-clear" and be re-categorized as low-risk. Up until this point I have been having three to four appointments a month, and I would really prefer to only have the one with a regular OB. We think the world of our high-risk doctor, so it has nothing to do with not wanting to see him, it's just that we are done with going in so often. Thus far I have not been nervous about the scan. I know I will be tomorrow, but thankfully our hectic schedule has prevented me from dwelling on it. I have noticed that I am absolutely missing Leah and thinking about her more these days, and I don't know if it is the Christmas season or the timing of my pregnancy, or a combination of the two, but it's there. We appreciate all of your prayers, and promise to post a (hopefully excellent) update as soon as possible tomorrow.

Thinking About Jesus

2011-12-18T08:09:00.000-06:00

Since Tommy's nap times lately have been sporadic, to say the least, which means we have been working on establishing "quiet times" instead. Some days these have gone great, and others days they have been difficult. We have had a few days where he takes to them very well, and my favorite thing that he has asks to do (instead of laying in his bed) is to study the bible study. It goes something like this:

Me: Tommy, can you please go lay quietly in your bed?
T: But mom, I need to stay up and read my bible and do my BSF. It's time for me to sit and think about Jesus.

Now, I realize this is a stall tactic, but it is an awfully cute one. So I let him get out a bible (he insists on using the big kind like Jeff and I use), I give him my BSF take home pages, and he sits and "reads" the bible, "answers questions," and "takes notes" on the BSF sheets. This all has to be done with a regular pen, not crayons, in order to be authentic.

So, in case you were wondering if your young kids notice that you spend time reading your bible...apparently they do.

Letting the Cat Out of the Bag

2011-12-17T15:36:00.001-06:00

We finally told the boys about their new brother! We wanted to wait until we had a fairly good idea about the baby's health and planned on waiting until after the 20 week check, but the results of the 18 week were so good that we moved things up. Also, Tommy was definitely starting to notice that something was up. He didn't make the connection, but he was asking questions about my larger stomach and pants that won't button.

We wanted to tell them while they were doing something fun and special so that they would associate the new baby with excitement. Obviously this was more for Tommy than Nic; after how difficult it was for Tommy to accept Nicolas we wanted to start things out on the right foot. We took them to the zoo for the nightime Christmas lights, and it was a lot of fun. Because of the timing of the event and the lack of easily transportable food in our fridge, we decided to eat at the zoo (always a mistake), and we told the boys during dinner. Tommy's immediate reaction:

T: Mommy, STOP EATING.
Me: (putting down food) What's wrong?
T: Your food will get on the baby's face! (comment accompanied by a dramatic hand gesture to indicate dripping food).

We've had to clear up a few misconceptions about pregnancy, as you can see from the above, but overall Tommy is very excited about the news. So far...

Here are some pictures from the big day:

More Evaluations

2011-12-15T21:21:00.006-06:00

Another day, another therapist appointment. Thankfully, this one both started and ended without any traumatic events. The speech therapist was supposed to come earlier this week to do Nic's evaluation, but she came down with stomach flu and had to cancel. I am very grateful for this, as Nic seems to catch everything he is exposed to and then passes it on to me, and I certainly don't feel like getting the flu right now. Today was our make-up appointment, and it went very well. She believes that he is less delayed than the developmental therapist implied (which I agree with) and that his receptive language is actually not too far behind age level. His expressive language is delayed - she ranks his expressive delay at 38%, so we will be receiving "extra help and support" aka almost free speech therapy. I am so excited that he qualified.

Perhaps that sounds crazy...when I first started thinking about going through this process again (since we did the round of evaluations for Tommy), I was thinking that I did not want the stress of cleaning up my apartment to have therapists over every week. It is so small, and the kids have so few places to play, that I feel like we have two carpets: the regular one and the extra coating of toys and books. Then I considered how much more stressed I would be if he was assigned a very large delay but missed qualifying for services (just like what happened with Tommy). This made me reconsider my position. I know that I simply don't have the same quality time with Nic that I had with Tommy. Although I make an effort to spend time with Nic one-on-one, and often we get some good play time in while Tommy plays by himself, it just isn't the same as when you have only one child and they get all your attention. On top of that, I'm more tired than I used to be (either because I'm pregnant, older, or a lovely combination of the two), and I know that that isn't going away anytime soon.

Thus I was practically holding my breath waiting to see what the therapist would say at the end of our appointment. Of course she started with the "good news" and when she said that Nic's receptive language delay was so small I was actually a little worried. Then she started talking about his expressive language delay, and I think she was trying to break the news of his delay to me gently, not realizing that this actually made me more nervous because I was afraid she would tell me he was 29% delayed like Tommy's speech evaluator did (30% is the threshold to qualify for services). Little did she know that I wasn't about to protest or say I didn't need help.

Her theory on his delays was fairly simple: time spent in orphanage + possible fluid in ears + adoption occurring at a key linguistic stage = delay. I was particularly interested in that last part, because in adoption you usually assume that getting a child home earlier is better (and really it is). We were discussing Tommy's language development, which was faster considering he joined our family at fourteen months, and she explained that a child who has a solid language system developed (even in another language) might adapt much better to a new language than a child who was switched languages in the middle of constructing a linguistic system. An interesting theory. My personal theory which is based on nothing measurable or scientific but on my mother's instinct is that regardless of where he was in his linguistic systems, being adopted was more traumatic for Nic than it was for Tommy. After seeing Nic become more and more who he is over the past few months I can say with full confidence that the child we met and brought home was just a shadow of himself. Tommy loves going new places. He loves new people. In general he adjusts to things well. That aspect of his personality was beneficial in his transition into our family and then to the United States. Nicolas is not a transition loving guy. When we adopted him he withdrew into himself and it took him longer to adjust to being in our family. I'm not saying that his first months with us were miserable, or that he never enjoyed himself, just that it took him quite a while to let his guard down and learn to express himself and I think that affected his communication with us.

The next step is a meeting to discuss the course of action for Nic's "support." I don't know how often he will receive "support" (which I sort of wish they would just call speech therapy because that seems more accurate to me), but I assume it will probably be the minimum since his delay is not that great and the therapist said she doesn't think it stems from a deeper problem (in case you are wondering, this one didn't bring up autism or FAS). She also said she thinks he will graduate from "support" before he ages out of the system, which occurs at age three.

On a somewhat side note, in my crazy googling after the last meeting I came across an article on FAS and adoption that featured some study where adopting parents rated the attractiveness of children, and found that FAS correlated with low scores for attractiveness. The conclusion was that people think children with FAS are not good looking, and since my ADORABLE son had just been suspected as having FAS I felt very indignant about this. That last therapist must not appreciate African beauty.

Too Crazy Not To Be True

2011-12-12T17:37:00.012-06:00

This morning Nic had his first evaluation at nine. At about eight-forty I finished getting Nic dressed and realized that it might be a good idea for Tommy and I not to be in our PJs. So, I took the world's fastest shower and scrambled into some clothes while encouraging, or yelling at (whatever), Tommy to get dressed. At five 'til nine I ran into Tommy's room to help him with his underwear and pants, and Tommy decided to shut the door for some unknown reason. I heard Nic pawing at the door and playing with the handle, so I pulled Tommy's knickers on and went to open it...and the handle wouldn't turn.

Somehow Nic managed to lock Tommy and me into the boy's room. In case you are wondering, the handle is reversed on that room because Tommy knows how to lock doors and we didn't want Tommy to lock himself in the room with Nicolas. We obviously weren't thinking about the problems that might cause should one of the kids lock us in.

Events unfold: Nic starts crying. Tommy starts crying. I start to freak out. I think, maybe I can hop out the window and see if a neighbor is home so I can call Jeff or our landlord and get back in. I got so far as to majorly bend the screen before realizing that it is screwed in place. I then attempt to twist out the screws, working frantically as I try to remember whether or not I shut the kitchen gate. Were all the caps on the oven dials that Nic loves to turn? Was the bathroom door shut and the toilet lock in place? He sure does love that toilet. All this time, Nic is screaming and pounding the door, and Tommy is next to me bawling his eyes out.

At this point our one hope is that the therapist shows up and that she can call someone for us. Tommy and I start yelling out the window to see if we can attract her attention. The phone starts ringing, and I am desperately hoping that it isn't the therapist calling to cancel. We yell more, and louder. It sounds something like this, "Hello, therapist, HELP! HELP! Therapist, we're in the back yard, please come around," etc with Tommy parroting every slightly incoherent word as I yell it. A minute or two later I hear someone coming. The therapist had arrived, heard our pleas, and came to our rescue. First, we tried calling Jeff at work. We couldn't get him. I didn't have my landlord's number on me, so that was out. She asks if she should try the doors. I said it was a good idea, because every once in a blue moon Jeff doesn't lock the door on his way out. She goes around the house and - miraculously - the door is OPEN. She lets herself in and lets us out. I was/am so so thankful. God knew when Jeff left in a rush and left the door unlocked that we would need that door open!

So, we had Nic's assessment. It did not start off well. First, both Nic and Tommy were hysterical from the lock incident, and took some time to calm down. Then Nic decided to act like a child seriously affected with a mental disorder. I am not joking. Nic is always slow to warm up to strangers, and generally quiet when a new person is introduced, but today he decided to stare blankly with his head slightly down, DROOL, and chew his tongue. It was as if he had lost 50 IQ points in ten minutes. The therapist was obviously taken aback since I had stated in my intake interview that the only thing I was concerned about was speech, and then she arrives to find a non-responsive, drooling, tongue-chewer. Immediately she starts asking about how often he drools, chews his tongue, and so on, and of course I'm responding that this is really unusual behavior, probably related to teething because we are so hoping that he will get his molars in soon, and I know she is thinking that I am in complete denial about my child's obvious mental deficiencies. After all, I'm the mom who got locked in a room by her sixteen month old...clearly I must have a screw or two loose myself.

After we went through Nic's history (which probably convinced her even further that he has serious issues), and about a hundred other questions, she got out her toys. Nic decides that he likes her toys and wants to play. He proceeds to demonstrate above-average gross motor skills, and completely on-target fine motor skills. WHEW. He also demonstrated that he doesn't talk, which I already knew, and she ended up deciding that we will proceed with his scheduled speech evaluation but that no other evaluations will be necessary because there are no other possible areas of delay.

However, as she's giving me her run-down, she mentions that she's glad Nic perked up, because at first she was really concerned that there was something seriously wrong with him. She starts throwing around terms like "autism spectrum," "Down syndrome," and "FAS" and I'm thinking, oh my gosh, what is she saying? I was already completely discombobulated from the morning's events and trying to corral Tommy during the evaluations (which Tommy was longing to participate in). So, I stopped her and asked if she was concerned about autism. She explained that she brought it up just to tell me that she wasn't worried about it, she just hadn't gotten to that part of the explanation yet. Her main point was that a child who spent 8 months of his life in an orphanage is expected to have delays that express themselves in a certain way, and that Nic's speech is completely consistent with that. In fact, she mentioned that she was shocked at how well he was doing overall, even compared to adopted clients she has who have come home earlier than eight months. She did ask that we have his hearing evaluated, as she is concerned that it might be the root cause of his delay. He is congested all the time, so it is possible that his ears are filled with fluid (her theory). Also, I think he was born prematurely and that can lead to hearing damage too. So we will be setting up a hearing test as well. As for FAS, she brought it up because he has a sloping head and wide nose. I might have mentioned that he is African and that his head and nose shape aren't exactly unusual for someone from his country (as far as I can tell he has no common FAS indications). So, I asked her if she wanted me to take him to his pediatrician for an FAS evaluation, because I know there is a strong chance that both of my kids had fetal alcohol exposure, and she decided no. To which I must say, "why bring it up and freak me out?" You know I spent half an hour on the internet this afternoon scrutinizing pictures of children with FAS out of sheer paranoia.

Now I am convinced that both my children have any number of syndromes that logic tells me they don't have because I assume their (many) pediatricians might have noticed FAS, or Down syndrome, or autism, or any other severe issue with highly distinguishable facial characteristics or behavioral features. Have I ever mentioned that hypochondria runs in my family? I come by it very honestly. So, for now I am stepping away from the crazy (aka google), and trying to process my intense day. I am counting my blessings: at least we only have one more evaluation appointment to go!

First Snow

2011-12-11T15:29:00.000-06:00

We had our first snow accumulation for the season on Thursday night. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get the boys excited about putting on boots to go crunching around outside. Since this is Nic's first introduction to snow, I wanted to be sure I captured the moment. In my zeal to get his very first reaction things may have gone a little wrong...see for yourself:

And Baby Makes Three...Boys

2011-12-07T20:18:00.003-06:00

Thank you all for your prayers! I actually had a good morning, and I felt like I got a little extra measure of peace when I felt the little mister kicking up a tiny storm this morning. Today's ultrasound went really well. It was a bit rushed because we were late (totally our fault), so we didn't get many good pictures, but since we have the standard 20 week level two scan coming up in two weeks I'm fine with that. We'll get much better pictures then.

Anyhow, there is absolutely no doubt that this baby is a boy. Also, this doctor (who was different than our usual) was pretty unequivocal in stating that she has no reason to suspect that he has SRPS. Of course, she also had the benefit of a bigger and older baby. None of the standard "signs" of our type of SRPS are present. No shortened limbs, no shortened ribs, ten fingers and ten toes, his kidneys look great, his heart is well developed, and she got a great look at his face and his lip is not cleft. Her exact words were, "I have no suspicion of SRPS" at this time. She further said that with SRPS dwarfing is typically so dramatic that she really believes it would have shown up by now. All wonderful things to hear. We are very thankful for the good news. I know that I will be on cloud nine for the next ten to twelve days before I start to get nervous about the twenty week.

It is my assumption/feeling that after the twenty week I will be able to relax a little more and finally feel good about this pregnancy (although I've been feeling varying levels of relief/excitement since the 12 week), but our doctor is not so sure. Of course he has the benefit of vast experience of working with women who are pregnant after a loss, and it is his opinion that I should prepare myself for a very hard third trimester. Apparently it is not uncommon for people to re-grieve their lost baby during and after a healthy pregnancy, and that usually starts up right around the time that the baby passed away. Apparently I also need to be more careful than most people about postpartum depression for the same reason. That all makes sense to me, and I always strive to keep a close watch on my mental health because of my family history of issues and for the sake of my children. That said, I am trying not to think about the possibility of re-grieving right now. I hope that I will have some time to just be excited about the arrival of this little one without all the baggage.

Back to the Doctor

2011-12-06T13:39:00.005-06:00

Tomorrow we go in for the 18 week ultrasound. It's another level one, but they will be able to measure limb growth and check the level of my amniotic fluid, and that is what is more important at this point. I don't feel like going. I'm tired of appointments. Every time we go in and get good news I feel great until about three days before the next appointment, then the dread sets in. So, please pray for peace.

The Good News and The Bad News

2011-12-05T14:32:00.011-06:00

The good news is that Tommy did a great job at his dentist appointment. He had no cavities, despite having very deep crevices in his teeth that make him naturally cavity-prone (just like his Mum!). The dentist also said that he could tell Tommy didn't eat a junky diet, because if he did he would have had a mouth full of problems. Go us! Also in the good news category - Tommy's x-rays came back looking great and the tooth that was the most askew has almost settled back into it's old position. The bad news is that he has some tooth discoloration (although as of right now it is minor), which means his teeth are bruised. The dentist was quite pleased with how light the bruising is, as he was expecting that Tommy's teeth might be quite purple by now, but because the bruising is there we are still on gangrene watch. Also under bad news, dentists and x-rays are absurdly expensive and dental insurance is not as good as health insurance. I can't believe how much this little escapade has cost (or at least how much I think it will cost...verdict is still out on how much insurance will pony up). But since it's December it was time to drain the FSA anyway.

The good news for Nic is that his teeth are now clean. He had some gunky build up near his gums that I just could not get rid of (and we ALWAYS brush), so I was concerned that maybe it was a side effect from all his penicillin or something. However, it turns out that some kids have extra salts in their saliva, and this type of saliva causes plaque to calcify and look nasty...no matter how often you brush. It's a genetic quirk. I'm just glad it wasn't something we were doing wrong. The very bad news is that the dentist informed us we should start saving for Nic's orthodontia. Now, Nic has a HUGE mouth, so I was really hoping that we would skip braces with him, but apparently he has a rather pronounced under-bite that will require correction. Neither Jeff nor I noticed this, so I felt a little silly when the dentist was talking to me about it like I must have known. I decided not to inform him of my ignorance. On the bright side, the thing he will have to wear (it's like reverse head gear) only has to be on at night, and we won't need to start it up for five or six years. It is nice to have the heads-up on that one.

It was funny to learn that both of my kids have unusual inherited dental issues. Nic's got the crazy saliva and the under-bite, which according to the dentist is very rare for people of African descent. Tommy's got baby teeth that look like adult teeth. I know that even if we had contact with either of the boy's families that we would not have information about dental history, tooth shape, cavities, and so one because no one would have dental charts to offer us, but it does make me wonder about where these traits came from. Was it first mom or first dad who had the funky teeth?

The other good news is that the threat of Tommy's teeth turning purple motivated me to take the boys in for some brother pictures. Well, that and I had a great coupon.

How cute are these boys?

Oops, or That Time We Learned How Not To Use The Clippers

2011-12-03T20:55:00.003-06:00

Advent

2011-11-29T08:13:00.000-06:00

I love Advent. Now that we attend a church that does not observe the Church Calendar at all (which kills me because you miss out on so much), I really miss having Advent as a part of Christmas. Thus we are instituting our own family Advent observances. I really meant to get an Advent wreath, but this first Sunday crept up on me, so we started using just a plain candle, read an Advent devotion, and sang a few songs. Tommy's questions in response to the devotion were priceless (when Jesus comes again, is he coming to our house?) and although Nicolas made crazy noises the entire time because he didn't like being strapped into his high-chair, I'm sure someday he will be thankful for this new family tradition.

After we did our devotion and lit our candle we spent time baking cookies as a family. Tonight we made and decorated sugar cookies. The boys had a blast pouring on the sugar sprinkles. My plan is that we will make a different cookie every Sunday and share some with our next-door neighbors.

Black Friday Fun

2011-11-27T21:08:00.006-06:00

Since Jeff had Friday off we decided to have a family fun day. The weather looked promising, so we opted to spend the day outdoors at the zoo. Apparently everyone else was either in a food coma or shopping, because the zoo was the emptiest I've ever seen it. We had a great time hanging out and visiting the boy's favorite spots.

In the evening we continued our annual tradition of attending our village's Christmas parade. We haven't missed a year since we moved here. This was the first year that Tommy was looking forward to petting the reindeer and seeing Santa Claus. He also really enjoyed the parade. Nicolas loved the parade too, although we are certain that he was a bit confused by it.

Thankful for...

2011-11-25T22:37:00.002-06:00

Trains, among a great many other things. We hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving - we sure did. Here's a short snippet from ours.

Wishing For Naptime

2011-11-21T20:05:00.000-06:00

Blogging has become a bit harder now that a certain someone has stopped napping most days. We are working on establishing a "quiet time" and have more success on some days than others. The hard thing is that Nic and Tommy share a room, so there really isn't a spot where Tommy can play quietly without waking Nic up, as Nic is a fairly light sleeper. We do have a nice living room where Tommy could play by himself, but he is not keen on playing by himself because I'm around. This also has made getting just about everything else done much much harder. Hence, by the end of last week our apartment was a wreck, and we had our very last post-placement visit this morning, so we spent the weekend scrambling to get everything cleaned up, which was made more complicated by both Jeff and me feeling under the weather (Jeff has a cough, I have a growing baby).

However, we have now finished our final post-placement visit! Woohoo! We actually love our social worker (whose impending retirement makes us sad), and are always happy to see her, but I am not sorry to be done with all of the paperwork, visits, DCFS forms, etc. I went and applied for Nic's social security card last Friday, and got Tommy's updated at the same time. This means I am totally and completely done with all of Tommy's adoption related paperwork. SCORE! For Nic, all we have to do now is get his COC and then update his social security status to citizen. I want to get all of that taken care of soon, which means just a little more paperwork in my near future. The only other thing I need to do is get Nic evaluated for language delay because our social worker thinks he should be talking more (he rarely talks and gets what he wants by signing or going to get it himself). I called early intervention and left a message, but I'm not sure if I will need a referral from our doctor or not (we did for Tommy), and I don't know if our doctor will give me one because I talked with her about his language development just two weeks ago and she was not concerned. I am totally ambivalent about the evaluation. I am absolutely happy to have it done because honestly it requires very little effort on my part, but I also remember that when we had Tommy evaluated when he was about a month older than Nic is now, Tommy didn't qualify for services and his vocabulary was only a word or two bigger than Nic's.

Nothing interesting on the baby front. I am getting bigger, so everyday I have fewer and fewer clothes that fit. I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to zip my winter coat. I'm still more tired than usual and always hungry, but despite constant eating I only gained a pound last month. My OB isn't worried because I packed on enough pounds in the first trimester to make up for not gaining much in the last month, so I'm still in the normal range. However, she did say that I could consider increasing my calories, which is exactly what one wants to hear right before Thanksgiving. Seriously, there is no better time to be "eating for two" than the holidays. I just hope she doesn't take that back at my next appointment, right before Christmas!

Hard-ish Things: Nicolas

2011-11-16T07:29:00.001-06:00

The moment I fell in love with Nic is so clear in my mind. I have not experienced "love at first sight" with either of my boys. Don't get me wrong - I loved them in the truest sense of the word - but I didn't feel all mushy about them right away. For me, those feelings take time; bonding takes time. During our trip to DRC to pick Nic up, he easily won the "easiest baby in the world" prize. I can't lie, that made him very nice to spend time with, and since I was fairly well-rested I had plenty of energy to focus on bonding and feeling affectionate. I spent about a week in that weird "I know this is my kid but it doesn't feel like it yet" place. During that period we moved into my (beloved) dorm room, and were squashed together in a twin bed. One night it rained and actually got a bit cool, so I pulled him onto my chest to sleep. That morning we woke up rather early, and the sunlight was filtering through the trees in that way that makes everything glow. I was watching Nic that morning as he slowly opened his big eyes and lifted his head up to look around. When his eyes met mine he smiled. That was it. I was smitten.

One of the reasons bonding to Nic was so easy was that he was such a sweet baby and while he had some "orphanage" issues, they weren't that severe. His orphanage was actually a small group home with only a dozen kids, and only two of those were babies (one being Nic), so it was not your typical large institution. I am positive that Nic got a decent amount of calories each day, even if most of them came from starch, and that he got some medical care. He was held often, and did not suffer from any touch or other sensory issues. It was obvious that all of his needs were not met on demand, as he really went to town with his formula once he realized that I would give it to him every time he indicated he was hungry, and in those first weeks he ate far more than he needed to. He also rarely expressed displeasure - another sign that he had withdrawn a bit from being ignored. In the first few months I was worried that his eager to please attitude might translate into an attachment issue, but instead we have experienced the joy of watching our quiet little fellow blossom.

As time has gone by Nicolas has become increasingly vocal in expressing his desires and his disappointments. He cries when he has to do things he doesn't like, and is very good at demonstrating his preferences. Although he is not using many words, he knows how to point to things he wants, and he uses his "more" sign like a champ. He is becoming increasingly animated and adventurous in situations that are unfamiliar (he's been like that at home for some time now), and watching him learn to interact with a wider range of people is great fun. He has also become increasingly affectionate. He has always liked a hug or a kiss, but now he will frequently demand them. He likes to have kiss marathons - he will run up to you and kiss and kiss and kiss until you are all covered in his slobber. It melts our hearts.

All that to say, Nicolas' transition in terms of orphanage issues and attachment just hasn't been very hard. Now, that isn't to say that Nic's adoption was a breeze. Some adoptions are easier than others, but adoption is in it's nature messy and complicated and hard. You can't escape it. You want to know something that is hard? Coming home to find out the child you love has a probable life-expectancy of forty years, and finding out that many of those years will be spent in pain. Learning that your child will have restrictions, and need to take medication, and probably have a disrupted education. That was hard. We've adjusted to our new normal, I think. It's hard to say since Nic hasn't actually had a sickle crisis yet, and there is a tiny little chance that all of the above horror may be reversed if his next round of blood work comes back the way we hope and pray it will. We are absolutely clinging to that shred of hope, but we also know that it is more likely that he not only has sickle cell disease, he has the worst kind (SS). That is what has been hard with Nicolas.

The other thing that was difficult about Nicolas' adoption was the process. With Tommy we waited ages for a referral, but once we had his name and his info we only waited two weeks to get on a plane. With Nic we had to wait first for his adoption to go through the court system in his commune, then for an embassy appointment, and then we traveled. We received his information in October, but didn't meet him until March. That wait (while not very long by many country's timelines) felt endless. It was so much harder to wait this time around, and much more emotionally taxing. The trip was also not exactly a luxury vacation...but you've seen the spiders so I probably don't need to elaborate on that point.

Never A Dull Moment

2011-11-15T16:35:00.006-06:00

Today's plan was as follows: Go to bible study. Come home and feed boys lunch. Drop boys off at their "play date" and pick up Jeff. Go to ultrasound at 2:30.

Instead, about fifteen minutes before the end of bible study one of nursery workers came in and asked me to come because Tommy was bleeding. By bleeding, she meant dripping blood from his mouth (as in, it's on his shoes). He had somehow gotten hurt on a ride along toy and at least one tooth was visibly knocked-in. We commenced a mad scramble to get stuff together, an unsuccessful attempt at transferring Nic's car seat, and a mad rush to our dentist, who thankfully is located just down the street from our church. He fit Tommy in (and didn't charge us- for which we are ever so grateful), and confirmed that his teeth looked bad and that he needed to see someone who specialized in children's dentistry. He called the office he refers to and they gave us an appointment at one. We rushed from the dentist to home to make some phone calls (my cell was dead), then went to pick up Jeff in case Tommy needed to be held during the x-ray. We swung through McD's for a shake (Tommy is on a "soft" diet now an I didn't exactly have time to make scrambled eggs) and made it to his appointment with a few minutes to spare.

The good news is that Tommy's permanent teeth aren't damaged and should come in healthy. The bad news is there is a 30% chance (really, how did the dentist come up with this number?) that he will loose 1 to 3 of his front teeth. One has been visibly moved/damaged, and the two teeth on either side of that tooth are in jeopardy as well. In the next seven to ten days we will find out if Tommy's teeth are bruised, and we will know when they turn color, anywhere from an off white to black...which means we will not be taking any pictures for our Christmas card anytime soon. After they turn color we wait another few weeks to see if gangrene sets in. If that happens then they will either do a root canal or pull the tooth/teeth. We should see signs of gangrene in four to six weeks, or right around Christmas. The perfect time for oral surgery. Best case scenario is that he avoids gangrene, he keeps his teeth and they don't change color too much (let's pray for this), most likely scenario is that he keeps his teeth but they will be discolored until they fall out when his permanent teeth move in.

I am so sad that his beautiful smile has been ruined, but, you know, it isn't the worst thing that could happen. Good thing we had that upcoming ultrasound to keep things in perspective.

Onto the ultrasound. They installed new video monitors in the last few weeks, so now there are cool flat screens on the walls. This means that I got to see a huge huge picture of my cervix. It looks great, but I wasn't losing sleep over my cervix. The baby continues to have normal measurements (arms/legs/rib cage). Since the dwarfing in SRPS is usually so dramatic Dr. M feels this is very good, but still not definitive. He said he will feel comfortable saying the baby does not have SRPS after our 20 week ultrasound, but until then it remains up in the air since dwarfing is so tricky to diagnose. I don't go back until December 7th, so we have about three weeks to wait until the next set of measurements, and then another two weeks after that until the 20 week. Still, normal is good. I will sleep well tonight.

Bits and Pieces

2011-11-14T07:17:00.000-06:00

This weekend I had the opportunity to attend Together For Adoption Chicago. It was such a neat experience. I finally got to meet a fellow Uganda mama/long-time internet friend, listen to some great speakers, and think more deeply about the theology of adoption. It was a very encouraging and refreshing experience and just what I needed.

I've been feeling a bit bogged down by the pregnancy in the last few days. I've been a bit tired this week and have needed a few naps, which irritates me because I get behind with things like the dishes, and when you have only a tiny sink and four people getting behind on dishes can get ugly very quickly. Also, with the next ultrasound coming up on Tuesday I'm starting to get a little nervous and unsettled. This happened right before our last ultrasound too, so perhaps this is just the new normal.

One thing that I'm really happy about is our new specialist, Dr. M. During the period when I knew I was pregnant but was still pretending otherwise I decided to switch OB/Specialists because my old ones were about an hour (without traffic) away. We debated the change, because we felt like we had finally reached a good place with our old specialists and were not looking forward to having to re-explain ourselves to new doctors. However, once I started thinking about how many appointments we would have, combined with the drive and needing to find someone to watch the boys for each appointment, I realized it was simply not practical to stay with our old group, so we switched. Now, this is where we really feel God's hand on all of this- when we went in and met with our new specialist, we found out that he is from our old group! He wasn't one of the doctors we worked with (he left them before our last pregnancy), but he worked with most of the doctors we saw, including the one who handled our delivery. In addition, his nurse still works with them a few days a week, which allowed her to get my file (despite some red tape) in time for our appointment. When we met with Dr. M he had been through our file, and already understood that we would be continuing our pregnancy regardless of the baby's diagnosis. We didn't have to do any explaining at all. It was amazing. We left the appointment feeling really supported. Dr. M works differently than our old specialists, in that he is really just a consultant and will not handle any of my routine prenatal care or my delivery. However, I will see him for all of my scans and he will advise my regular OB.

And now, on a totally different subject, how cute are these football players? We had some very mild weather this weekend, and the boys got to play outside quite a bit with Daddy. They all had a ball...

Hard-ish Things: Tommy

2011-11-11T21:06:00.000-06:00

I wrote this post before Nicolas came home. I'm not sure why I never published it, but since it is adoption month I thought the timing was right.

One of the things we did to prepare ourselves for Tommy's adoption was attend an adoption conference (it helped us get those all important training hours). We spent an entire Sunday learning all about health issues, evaluating referrals, emotional issues, attachment tactics, managing the wait, and adopting across color lines. It was a hard, hard day. Taking in all that information, much of it negative, made for a huge emotional punch. Even though we had repeatedly read and been told that adoptions don't always work out perfectly, hearing it ad nauseam over the course of one day made the transition after adoption seem like such an uphill battle. I know that for some families adoption is a very difficult battle. Sometimes kids come home with more physical or emotional needs than a parent or family is prepared to handle. But it seems to me that more often than not, while kids come home with issues that are not easy, they are far from insurmountable.

Thus I decided to write a post about some of the difficulties that we had or continue to have that are related to the conditions that Tommy grew up in. This is decidedly not a "feel sorry for us" post. We have been abundantly blessed by the addition of Tommy to our lives, and we made the choice to parent a child from a hard place, and we are happy to be flexible to meet his needs. Additionally, the "hard things" that we have experienced are minor compared to the long list of things that potentially could happen, which is why I am referring to them as "hard-ish things." This post is simply to share with others who have adopted, are in the process of adopting, who are considering adoption, or those who are just curious about some of the differences in parenting a child adopted from an orphanage, some of what we experienced. As a side note, we have relied fairly heavily on ideas from Keck's Hurting Child books and Purvis' The Connected Child/Connected Child Workbook, especially when it comes to nurture and food issues.

We entered into Tommy's adoption with an excessive amount of information under our belts - between our required adoption training courses (I highly recommend Adoption Learning Partners), adoption seminars, and extensive personal reading (The Hurting Child books are great), we were aware of just about everything that could be difficult. We were pleasantly surprised that almost none of the catastrophes we had prepared for occurred. We had a reasonably easy transition. Tommy was very much in a state of shock at first, but at the time we didn't see it, because we didn't know him. He didn't act out, thus it seemed like everything was fine. Within a few weeks there was a noticeable difference in his smile, and in his response to us. We were very blessed that he began to attach quickly, and that he took to us so readily. It helped that he was not touch-averse and that he loved to be held. Because of this we could wear him (we used an Ergo carrier all the time) and that helped our bonding process move quickly.

Still, there are a few things, remnants of his past, that continue to shape his responses and behavior.

The hardest thing for me on an ongoing basis is Tommy's intense need for touch. Had he been placed with us at birth he would probably still be a cuddly guy. However, having missed out on having his need for being held met on demand, as would be the case for many infants in a regular family structure, he has a nurture deficit that we are constantly trying to fill. There are days when he will want to be held for a very long period of time, just because he needs it. And not just held, but held as close as possible. Sometimes it feels like he is trying to burrow into me, he presses up against me so insistently, not for a minute or two, but for an hour. This is hard for me because I am not a touch person. Often it is a huge invasion of my personal space, and sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed by it. During the summer it is just darn uncomfortable because of the heat. Nevertheless, I snuggle on demand, and spend a great deal of time performing activities one armed while lugging 30+ pounds of squirming sweetness on my hip or my leg. Even Jeff, who does not require the amount of personal space that I do, has found it to be too much at times. When we first came home Tommy had very little capacity for being alone. Over time this has diminished a bit, and Tommy will now play by himself for increasingly longer periods, but that is a rather recent development (and welcome, because I can finally make a decent dinner!).

On a related note, despite being more than capable of feeding himself, Tommy frequently wanted to be fed "like a baby" (his words). This, according to adoption books, is very common for children from orphanages. What seems like regression is actually filling a need that was never met before. Kids in orphanages begin feeding themselves at a very, very young age, and often they are never fed by a caregiver (propped bottles are a common way to feed babies). Thus they miss the interaction and nurture - the touch, the eye contact, the cooing and encouragement - that comes with being fed by another person. In my mind there was no downside to nurturing Tommy in this way, since he already has all of the necessary motor skills to feed himself, although it sometimes made us late to things when he ate too slowly.

Food insecurities also continue. When Tommy first came home he would shove food into his mouth until he gagged, gag, and then keep shoving it down. He outgrew that as he became used to having more than enough food, but it took a very long time. He also had a great deal of trouble seeing food and not getting some for himself. If someone else was eating and I didn't have something for him it could result in a fast meltdown. He has mostly grown out of this. His big food quirk that we haven't gotten rid of (and won't force until he is a little older) is that every time we sit down at the table he has to have a mouthful of food before he will stop and pray. It is very predictably a bite followed by a drink of milk, then he will actually move his plate away from himself and bow his head. He just needs the reassurance of that one bite. He now eats more normal amounts and even will occasionally leave some food on his plate (mostly vegetables he doesn't like), but this is huge improvement over inhaling everything. He is still a gorger when it comes to food he likes, but will now handle it calmly when we tell him he has had enough, which is a wonderful change. [Update: Now that Tommy is older we are enforcing a no food before prayer rule, and it was easy to institute as he has grown much more secure about food]

Tommy plays rough (or tough, according to some of his more magnanimous peers). Yes, he is a boy, and a toddler, so a certain degree of acting out is normal regardless of background. I am well aware that many biological children go through hitting and biting phases. But orphanage culture is rough in Uganda (I can't speak for elsewhere, but I imagine it would be similar). As soon as kids can move they are fighting for scarce resources - especially food and attention. Hitting, slapping, biting, scratching, and so on, are normal, not corrected, and sometimes encouraged. Maybe you are thinking that Tommy couldn't have been in that type of environment at such a young age, but trust me, many other parents with similar situations have noticed how rough their children are - even when they come home fairly young.

I know I have shared about some of the physical damage that conditions at the orphanage did. His intestines have slowly been healing, but in the beginning we were cleaning up an absurd amount of poop. Sometimes up to 8 explosive diapers a day (although usually more like 5) including the requisite laundry and disinfecting. Not every child reacts to parasites in the same way (and they don't all have the same ones), but I know our experience is not unique. In fact, a friend who adopted from Tommy's orphanage attempted to prepare me for what was coming, and although she accurately described it, she couldn't transmit the foulness of it, or how much time it takes to clean up that much poop (and you have to treat it all as infectious), and coax your child into taking the worst tasting pills ever. As a point of reference, I had a very long babysitting career, and had changed an excessive amount of diapers, from brand new babies to toddlers. Trust me, parasite poop is entirely different. As far as skin issues, Tommy had only a minor fungal infection. I know that many kids from orphanages come home with pernicious fungal infections or contagious skin conditions, so we count ourselves very lucky that we just had the small one.

I think that sums it all up. What it comes down to is that all the information that we took in prepared us for a very difficult experience. It scared us a bit, truth be told. While I am glad that I had more information than I ended up needing, I'm also glad that we didn't let all of the "what ifs" scare us off (harder to do with us since "what ifs" for our biological children are so scary), or get in the way of accepting Tommy's referral, which consisted of two pictures, a brief back story, an HIV test, and no medical information - and accepting a child on no info is seriously frowned upon at adoption conferences. Had we let the "what ifs" stand in the way, we might have missed out on the most wonderful thing: being Tommy's parents.

Why Oh Why Must Children Catch Colds?

2011-11-09T19:56:00.000-06:00

This morning I woke up to find Nic covered in snot. Gross. Thus, we had to skip our regularly planned activities and stay home. Thankfully we have all survived the ordeal, and by ordeal I mean long period where Tommy has only limited social interaction and is thus climbing the walls. Tommy just has too much energy for 850 square feet to contain (and it was cold, damp, and drizzly outside, so the side yard was not an option).

I remember Tommy's first winter home he had a cold practically every week, and it looks like it is going to be the same way with Nic. I thought that since Nic doesn't suck his fingers, thus avoiding putting every germ in the world straight into his mouth, that he might not get sick as much. The green snot says otherwise.

On the plus side, since I wasn't exhausted from taking the boys out I managed to clean up two and a half rooms of our house. Nicolas really isn't acting that sick, he's just coughing and snotting, so he had a fine day playing and running around attempting to throw anything he can find into the trash. Tommy used up some of his excess energy helping me vacuum, putting away books, baking snickerdoodles, and making lotion. It was nice to get all that done, but I'm thinking Nic might have to endure some pouch time (aka quasi-quarantine) so that Tommy can go to the library for at least a little bit tomorrow.

In pregnancy news I got the results from my blood tests and everything was normal (it was with Leah too). Still, it's better than not normal. Other than that I am just waiting and waiting and waiting for the next ultrasound, which is coming up next week on Tuesday afternoon. I'm a bit nervous about it, but (as is the plan) trying not to think about it.

Fall

2011-11-07T07:30:00.000-06:00

One brother has more fully embraced the arrival of Fall than the other. Care to guess which one?

Although to be fair, pretty much each day from here on out will be the coldest day of Nic's entire life. As Amy told him last Thursday morning when Nic stopped dead in the doorway on our way outside, "we're not in Congo anymore."

Congo Revisted

2011-11-06T07:09:00.000-06:00

Not only is today "Orphan Sunday," but this entire month is "National Adoption Month." In honor of that I will be doing some adoption-themed posts this month. I wanted to start with sharing some pictures (finally) from our trip to Congo.

In Congo we had the amazing opportunity to visit some different orphanages, and feed and play with the kids living there. It was hard. It was hard because all of us were schlepping a baby or two and worrying about the effect that visiting the orphanages would have on our kids, some of whom had left their orphanages only a few days before. It was hard to see the kids living in wretched conditions (even knowing that they were so much better off than they would be on the street). The hardest part, above all, was walking away after handing over a peanut butter sandwich and a banana. It just wasn't enough. It just isn't enough.

When you walk into a difficult orphanage the problem feels overwhelming. The corruption at some of these places- the loneliness, the hunger, the abuse, the misery- it's suffocating.

I don't know what part God has called or is calling you to take in caring for orphans, but I know he calls all of us to participate. Whether you are called to adopt or foster, to support an adopting family, to sponsor a child, to go on a missions trip and love some orphans, or to send money to an orphan care project (or all of the above), today is a great day to think about where God might be calling you next. If nothing else, please consider setting some time aside today to pray for these kids. They need it. No one should live like this.

The Long Answer

2011-11-04T21:00:00.005-05:00

Thank you all for your comments, emails, FB posts, etc. We appreciate your excitement and prayers very much. We are so blessed to count you as friends.

For those of you who love my excessively informative medical posts, here's one on the current pregnancy:

I have had two ultrasounds thus far. The first was at 11 weeks and four days (much to my surprise because I didn't think I was that far along, but then again I really wasn't sure). It was a regular ultrasound and everything in that scan was normal. My new OB has everyone scanned at 12 weeks with a level 2 for nuchal measurement (which can be indicative of a genetic disorder like SRPS but does not necessarily tell you anything). They had to squeeze me in quickly since the window for doing the nuchal measurement was closing, so we went in the following week.

At that appointment they did the long level 2 ultrasound, during which the tech examined the baby's hands and feet very carefully for evidence of polydactyly (i.e. extra digits). She found none. Jeff also got a really good look at the baby's rib cage and said it was proportional. The doctor agreed with the ultrasound tech (and Jeff) that nothing abnormal appeared in the scan. He also said that the nuchal measurement was normal (although we are still waiting on the results of my blood tests from that visit). This is all good. The problem is that none of it is definitive.

We have been classed as carriers of the (recessive) gene for SRPS type 2: Majewski type. This means that each child we conceive has a one in four chance of being born with SRPS, and SRPS is always lethal. With our type there are certain characteristics that are usually present, but the constant is the lethality of the disease, caused by extremely disproportionate ribs that prevent the baby from having lungs large enough to survive. SPRS type 2 is also characterized by polydactyly, shortened limbs, shortened digits, cleft lip and/or palate, kidney issues, low set, small, or malformed ears, bone malformations, and internal organ malformations. I admit that I did not request a copy of Leah's autopsy because, well, who would want that? Thus I can't speak to her internal issues (other than polycystic kidneys), but I do know that she had extremely shortened limbs, shortened digits, polydactyly on both hands and one foot, a very small rib-cage, and she did have a small lip issue. Her lip was closed (not cleft) but the line on the area where the lips closed was very very distinct.

The funny thing about the way SRPS works is that aside from the shortened rib cage and oddly shaped bones, the symptoms that one child with SRPS has may not be present in another child. So, if this child has SRPS, then they may or may not have the exact same issues Leah did. So, while it is wonderful that there is no evidence of extra fingers and toes, it doesn't prove that the baby is healthy (this is also because sometimes the polydactyly is just a small skin bump that is not noticeable on an ultrasound). It is also very difficult to measure/determine if shortened limbs are a factor at this point. I don't know why exactly, but that's what they tell us.

Our doctor is very kind and is not making us wait until the next standard ultrasound (at 20 weeks) to find out more about the baby's health. In fact, I am on a rather rigorous ultrasound schedule because we are "high risk" and they want to keep an eye on my cervix as well as measure the baby (I know you wanted to know that). My next scan is on November 15 (15 weeks), then I have one again at 18 weeks, and one at 20 weeks. If there is a problem we could know as early as the 15 weeks scan, as shortened bones should be evident by then...but then again we may not know until the later ultrasounds. If both the baby's measurements and my amniotic fluid levels are normal at 20 weeks then I will be feeling good.

On the not really medical evidence side of things, I feel hopeful because this pregnancy has been totally different than my first. I feel so much better it is unreal. I've been hungry, I've been able to eat, I've gained weight (which I wasn't able to do until my second trimester last time), and I have a reasonable amount of energy. I was like a dead person during my first trimester with Leah. This time around I have also been contending with very little sleep thanks to a certain child's first year molars taking FOREVER to come in, but even with that I've had good levels of energy most days. The only time I feel nauseous or throw up is when I get up too quickly or go too long between meals/snacks. I have to make sure that there is something in my stomach all the time. This may be contributing to my ability to gain weight. Thankfully, I'm still wearing my regular jeans, but they no longer button. I've got quite a fancy rubber band configuration going on, as well as one of those belly band things to keep the zipper from coming down. I'm still able to wear regular shirts as long as they are very long, and I am at least a few weeks from breaking out the support hose.

As far as my mental state, there are good days and bad days. I am at peace with the situation most of the time. Losing Leah was the hardest thing I have ever done. That said, some of the best things in my life (i.e. Tommy and Nicolas) are only part of my life because of that loss. They are awesome kids and they are a continuous reminder to me of how God has worked in amazing ways in my life. Having that helps so much. It doesn't prevent me from being scared of losing another child, but it distracts me and reassures me when I need it.

Almost the entire first trimester sailed by without much stress due to a case of good old fashioned self-imposed denial (don't worry, I avoided alcohol and took prenatal vitamins). Once I saw my OB and had the pregnancy confirmed (at 11 1/2 weeks) it got a little harder. Case in point: even though my OB reassured me three or four times that the ultrasound she did was entirely normal, I found myself looking up healthy 11 and 12 week scans on Google images and holding up the little printouts she gave me next to the computer to make sure. This made me crazy, so I had to stop. I am mostly avoiding any info about baby health, development, etc and not spending much time thinking about the pregnancy because it is just easier that way. I also am not super keen on talking about the pregnancy. I am excited that the news is finally public because I have found that blogging is great for helping me process things...so be prepared for an avalanche of craziness. Or not. We'll see how it goes.

And...

2011-11-02T22:46:00.002-05:00

Due to arrive May 6, 2012

That thumb must taste good

Cute little hands!

I know, you are probably wondering about the baby's health, the short answer is "we don't know" and the long answer will come in another post. For today, we are choosing to give thanks for this little one and rejoice in their time with us, whether it turns out to be nine months or ninety years.

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.
Psalm 139: 13-16 (The Message)

Happy Halloween

2011-11-01T19:32:00.009-05:00

I happen to think that the best part of Halloween is confiscating and eating all the kid's candy, but before I can do that I have to work for it! The boys and I went trick or treating with C and his mom, Susan. C's favorite movie is Nacho Libre, so he went as Nacho, and Tommy went as his wrestling partner, "Uganda Thunda." The proper term for this costume is "luchador" but every time I tried to explain that Tommy was going as a luchador I ended up having to say, "you know, a Mexican wrestler." Nicolas went as a duck, and surprisingly I also had to explain his costume because people seemed to think he looked like Big Bird.

True to form, it was difficult to get Tommy into costume. He ended up refusing to wear his cape, but he was very excited about the rest of the costume, particularly wearing a pair of underwear outside of his pants. He now thinks that wearing underwear outside of one's clothing is the mark of a super hero, and I may have found him wandering around the house earlier today with a pair of my underwear over his cargo pants. Yikes.

The closest he got to his cape all night

One adorable little duckling

My favorite picture of the boys - notice C's expression and the positioning of Tommy's boot.

Still getting stepped on, but at least he's smiling about it.

Only in DRC...

2011-10-30T21:36:00.006-05:00

...can you find Okapis in the wild, and three kids this cute!

Yes, our zoo has an entire area devote to the DRC. I happen to love that. The centerpiece are the Okapis, which are native only to DRC and weren't "discovered" by the outside world until 1901.

We toured the zoo with two of Nic's Congo buddies and their moms. It was so fun to see the boys together, and to hang out with our friends. I know that Nic has grown so much, but it it really drives it home to see how much bigger the other kids from our trip have gotten too. The boys are all roughly the same height, so even though they look NOTHING alike (seriously, look at the picture), and were dressed in totally different styles, and each had a different mom watching over them, we got asked if they were triplets.

Tommy had a blast too. He decided to paint himself as a "triceratops."

A Friendly Saturday Soccer Match

2011-10-24T06:35:00.000-05:00

A Spacious Place

2011-10-22T06:39:00.000-05:00

It all started with a pair of pink ballet shoes. Or maybe it was the tutu, or the leotard, or the tights. Actually, it was probably the whole package: full ballet dress on one adorable three year old girl, who asked me in a small voice if I was going to come and watch her dance class. A little girl born just a few days after our precious Leah, a little girl Leah would have played with, and thus, a little girl who unfailingly makes me think of the little girl I am always missing.

Of course I was going to the class, how could I say no? Also, I had an ulterior motive - I wanted to hang out with her mom. Thus, I found myself in a parks and recreation department ballet/tap combo class, just like the one I attended at that age, watching a whole room full of three year old girls (and some who looked decidedly older) attempt to line their feet up in the correct positions and execute a plié. It was adorable. It was also very hard to watch.

It's funny how as time goes by and you work through your grief, certain things that were once intolerable, like holding babies or attending baby showers, become normal again. Others, like visiting maternity wards, do not. I have forced Jeff to deliver many a tiny baby blanket on my behalf, because I cannot stand the thought of going in. For the longest time I could not be around babies. At all. And I think that's fine. I've learned that perseverance is not the equivalent of rubbing salt in your wounds, perseverance is learning how to move forward in a healthy way in your new reality.

It's also funny how as you move further from loss, the things that sting change. Leah wouldn't still be a baby, so babies don't remind me of her. Three year old girls do, especially ones (like my friend's daughter) whom I imagine Leah would play with, or daughters of friends whose pregnancies coincided with or closely followed mine. It can be difficult at times to be around children that remind me of Leah, but it is no longer debilitating. My wounds are not fresh, and my life is so full of joy that when sadness surfaces it does not have time to linger.

In the book my Tuesday bible study is reading the author talks about an interview Barbara Bush gave in which she discussed the loss of her three year old daughter to cancer four decades prior, yet all those years later talking about the experience brought Bush to tears. The woman who conducted the interview concluded that even though she wasn't a parent, she believed that when someone loses a child they can never be totally happy again. The author agreed, writing, "Should any of my children precede me into heaven, I think I would always feel a touch of sadness, a wound in my soul, that in this life would never completely heal. Yes, I might have moments of laughter and fun - but every time I met someone with my child's name or came across something that reminded me of that child, I don't think the time would ever come when I would become callous and impervious to pain. Nor - and this may be the most significant statement yet - would I want to be."

I think that quote captures it perfectly. As time moves forward, life fills up with happiness. In our case, life overflows with it. But there are always those moments that get you, like ballet class got me. Last week Tommy was playing with a cute little girl at the zoo who was just slightly younger than him (and by "playing with" I mean coloring on both his art project and hers). As we were gathering his craft and preparing to leave, I heard her mom address her, "Leah..." and immediately I felt the tug on my heart, the touch of sadness. That's just how it is, and how it probably always will be.

I haven't decided what I think of the statement about "total happiness," maybe because I'm not sure what that really means. Yes, something is always missing. Yes, certain things will always be bittersweet. But no life is free of pain, or longing, or missing, or regret. If complete happiness requires a person who is whole, one who is unscathed, who would ever experience it?

We all have our scars.

A friend recently told me that she thought of me when she read the following verses in Psalm 66:

¹⁰ For You have tried us, O God;
    You have refined us as silver is refined.
¹¹ You brought us into the net;
    You laid an oppressive burden upon our loins.
¹² You made men ride over our heads;
    We went through fire and through water,
    Yet You brought us out into a place of abundance.

I love the last line in verse 12, which other versions translate as "a land of plenty," "a fruitful place," "a place of wealth," or "a spacious place." There will always be sadness, but there will also be abundance. No matter what we suffer, God will bring us to a place that is fruitful. I know, because I live in a spacious place.

Together Again

2011-10-20T19:47:00.005-05:00

Well, the whole family is back together (in IL) and we have been for about a week now. We had a great trip, but it sure is great to all be under one roof once more. On Saturday we had a family fun day. It started with breakfast in bed for me...which might have been more fun for me than Jeff, but it was a belated birthday treat. This meant it was "guys' breakfast" and the little boys think that is very cool. They basically love anything that we label with the word "guys" and Tommy is always begging me to leave so they can have a "guys' night." The wonder of guys' night is that Jeff makes boxed macaroni and cheese. That's it. Well, and sometimes they play Wii. However, the main draw is the Mac, I'm sorry to say, and it's siren song is so alluring that Tommy is always excited to find out that I am going to book club or out with my friends. End tangent.

So, family fun day. In the afternoon Tommy asked if we could go to the zoo. We had a couple of hours before it closed, and it wasn't too cold out, so we decided to go for it. When we got to the zoo at 3:30 we found out that they were closing at 6 then reopening at 6:30 for a special Halloween Event. The play zoo would be open, and it seemed like a fun idea, so we decided to stay out late as a special treat. We had a great time at the zoo - it was great fun to have Jeff with us since we usually go during the week days. The Halloween event was interesting. Since it's the zoo I was expecting it to be a little more family-friendly and a little less scary than it ended up being. Thankfully Nicolas is too young to understand any of it, and Tommy is still at an age where we can sort of convince him that things aren't scary (even if they are). It was awfully cute when Tommy heard me call something "too spooky" and then for the rest of the night described anything he didn't like as "a sMooky." We spent a lot of time saying things like, "Wow, that zookeeper sure looks weird," with "weird" being a euphemism for "like a bleeding zombie" or "accident victim" or "Chainsaw murderer." We won't be going next year. The corn maze (sidenote: wouldn't it be so much funnier if it were called "Maize maze."?) was a big hit with Tommy, and not scary at all, and we took a very long time going through that because he wanted to try out every single option (the right ones were rather obvious since it was a rather lame maze). The play zoo was also fine, so we played there for quite some time. It was a big treat to be there after dark and with Daddy. But mostly, it was just great to be together.

Another Milestone

2011-10-18T20:06:00.000-05:00

This week marks an odd adoption and parenting milestone for us, as Nicolas is now the same age (14 1/2 months) that Tommy was when he joined our family almost two and a half years ago. We are now in familiar parenting territory, sort of. It's a funny thing to meet your children at different ages, and an odder experience still when the second child that comes home is noticeably younger than the first. It absolutely felt backwards, and at first we just didn't know exactly what to do with Nic. He was a baby, and we only really knew how to do toddler.

It has been fascinating to see the difference in their development, some of which may be attributable to their personalities/genetics/inclinations, but most of which is likely due to the varying amounts of time they spent in institutional care. I have never been more convinced that institutions are not healthy places for children than I have been since seeing the difference that seven months made in the development of Tommy and Nicolas. At 14 1/2 months when Tommy joined our family, he couldn't stand up alone, much less walk. He didn't start walking without coaxing until he was almost 17 months. Nic (who was placed with us at 7 1/2 months) has been walking fairly well for over a month already, is now practically running, and he is also quite a climber. It astonishes me how fast that child can move. In the area of gross motor skills, Nicolas has developed along a "normal" curve, and I must say it is nice not to have to play catch up.

Nicolas may have delays in other areas that we aren't aware of, but I don't think he does. The truth is that since he hasn't been noticeably delayed in any one area or having any severe attachment issues, we haven't bothered to do the intense evaluations that we did with Tommy who quite clearly had delays. We will see how things stand when Nicolas goes in for his fifteen month check-up, but considering his current development I doubt the doctor would recommend or even give us a referral for evaluation. We'll see.

In terms of health the difference between the two boys has also been interesting. The way things stand with his current diagnosis of sickle cell disease, Nicolas' long term health will not be fantastic. However, I have been amazed (and so thankful) at how healthy he has been thus far. His measurements have been solidly average in weight (he is hovering at or above 50^th percentile for his age) and he is slightly above average in height. While Nicolas did not receive the absolute best nutrition in his orphanage, we know that he was eating regularly and probably getting enough calories (even if they were mostly from starch). In contrast,Tommy came home in the 15^th percentile of height and the 25^th for weight, thanks to parasites/inadequate nutrition. He has done a great deal of catch up growth since then, and is now also average in height and weight for his age, but it has taken years for him to reach that mark. Aside from a small bout of salmonella while we were in Congo, Nicolas has not had any stomach issues. We battled Tommy's intestinal issues for months and months, and ended up having to put him on a restrictive diet before they eventually healed. I can't believe how much easier it is when your child doesn't have constant explosive diarrhea and doesn't have to eat special separate meals. Remember, I had no reference point when Tommy came home, so I had no idea how much extra work I was doing cleaning, sanitizing, laundering, and cooking, or how much energy I expended preparing for and dealing with the messes that inevitably occurred whenever we went out.

As Nicolas continues to settle into our family, and as Tommy grows into his role as a big brother, things have quieted down (a bit). We still deal with some sibling rivalry, and I suspect this will always be the case, but they can now play together and I can comfortably leave them alone together for very short intervals. It has been such a joy to watch them learn to enjoy each other.

And now, as illustration, a series of photos we like to call "Two Boys in a Box:"

More Love

2011-10-14T20:55:00.000-05:00

I think I've said it before, but I'll say it again: traveling with a large group of families to Congo made a huge impact on us. There were many things about the trip that were less than uplifting and enjoyable. The fellowship around the scabies carpet kept my head above water, and I am so thankful for it. One of the amazing families we traveled with has already begun yet another adoption (I think they are very brave). I always love to hear stories about how God has worked in people's lives to lead them to adoption, and I think that Brian and Carrie's story is especially interesting because they once were a couple that never wanted to have children - they now have FOUR at home and more on the way. It turns out that God had another little surprise in store for them, and what they thought would be one more daughter turned out to be twin daughters. That means double the fun, but also almost double the expense.

They have created a fund-raising t-shirt that has a broad appeal - I don't think you have to be an adoptive parent to resonate with the quote they chose:

"I have found the paradox that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."

--Mother Teresa

Their fund-raising store also features African note-cards and key chains. Check it out here, and don't forget that Christmas is just around the corner.

Lunch With Aunt Emily

2011-10-12T11:06:00.000-05:00

Aunt Emily is lawyer in LA. She works very long hours, as lawyers do (aka we don't get to see her much), so we always try to drive up and visit her on her lunch break when we come home. This time we got burgers, went to the farmers market, and enjoyed the sunshine.

We hope she doesn't make this face in court.

My Mom and Nic

A Quick Trip

2011-10-10T17:43:00.000-05:00

Earlier last week the boys, my mom, and I drove up to Visalia to visit our friends the Nickells and the Chandlers. The Chandlers live in the country and have a nice piece of property where the Nickell boys and Tommy roamed wild. Tommy had the greatest time running up and down the hill in their backyard and enjoying some freedom. Tagging along after the "big boys" brought him a lot of joy. Nicolas enjoyed getting lots of attention and care from Natalie, who is just a little younger than Tommy but who preferred playing mommy to Nicolas rather than chasing all the boys. She followed him around the house as he pushed a little stroller, carefully adjusting it for him every time it got stuck. It was so sweet.

In the afternoon we went to visit a nearby lake. It is man-made and used for flood control and irrigation, so since it is the end of the summer it was very very low. That happened to make it even more fun though, since it meant lots and lots of mud!

"Meeting" Nicolas

2011-10-08T13:30:00.000-05:00

One year ago at about eight in the evening we got a call from Cami, the woman who worked tirelessly to help us prepare our dossier for Congo. She asked me to put her on speaker, then told us about a baby boy in Kinshasa that had just been cleared by his commune (local government) for adoption. He was about a month old (later we found out he was actually two months old), and appeared to be healthy. That was all she knew, but she hoped to have pictures for us later in the week. We had twenty-four hours to decide if we wanted to move forward with this little one.

As you know, we said YES. For those of you who haven't adopted, it might seem a little crazy that we would add a child to our family whom we had never seen, whose birth date we didn't know, and whose medical and social history we knew nothing about. We have a "say yes unless God says no" policy for accepting referrals that fall within (or very close to) our home study parameters. When you do your home study, you have to set parameters regarding the child you are willing and able to accept. It is an odd process, and sometimes it feels very uncomfortable to make decisions about your future child, but it allows you to prayerfully examine the abilities and limitations of your family before you are faced with the emotional process of receiving and accepting a referral. Your social worker and (in our state) the head of Child and Family services must approve those parameters, and then USCIS bases your visa pre-approval on them. This time around our home study and USCIS clearance allowed us accept a child of either gender under the age of eighteen months with certain correctable special needs. The information we received about Nicolas fit our home study, so we took a day to pray that God would make it clear if we should not move forward with adopting Nicolas. The next afternoon we called and said yes.

We expected to get pictures of our boy on Sunday or Monday, but instead we got an email that there might be a problem and that we would need to wait to see if it worked out before the pictures were sent. Of course I was a nervous wreck for two days, but Tuesday morning our inbox contained the following:

It turned out that the commune clearance on Nicolas had not been written up and signed (the commune had verbally cleared him but not completed the paperwork at the time we got the phone call, and the difference got lost in translation...which is why we got the phone call when we did, but then had to wait for paperwork to get pictures), so that was the "problem" and it was quickly cleared up. At the time the pictures were taken Nic was a few days over two months old. He was a tiny little bean- his stats at the time placed him at the very bottom of the growth charts. He was smaller at two months than most US newborns! We also found out that his name was Nicolas and that he was living in a small orphanage in Kinshasa. That week we finished up all the paperwork necessary for the court process, and our journey to Nicolas officially began.

In the past year, we prayed and cried and waited and traveled and welcomed one adorable boy home. He's had a rough road of it- transitioning to a crazy family in a strange new place, odd tasting new foods, awful weather, and being stuck with more needles than I can count and enduring the hospital and more doctors visits than most kids probably have in the first five years of life. He is such a trooper. He has not only endured, he has flourished. We are so grateful that God has placed Nicolas in our family.

Bippity Bop Barbershop

2011-10-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

So, true confession: a few days into my lingering illness I rallied and went to IN-N-OUT with my parents and the boys (that's not the confession as a burger and milkshake are known curatives). The boys were not looking their best. They hadn't had their hair picked out in a few days (we strive for a good comb out every night before bed, and touch ups in the morning with when possible). Also, they were due for a hair cut, although I personally like their hair longer. All that to say, they looked a bit unkempt. At least they weren't ashy.

After we left the restaurant and went to our car a man pulled my mom aside and asked if the boys were adopted or foster...and then let her know where she could take them to get their hair cut properly. Yes, it was embarrassing. Now, he was super polite and kind about it and not at all judgmental, but this is something that white mamas raising black children dread happening to them. I work so hard for it not to happen to me (with the exception of letting my kid's hair get too long because I really really like it long). Thankfully, the man followed his advice up with the following, "I was watching you eat together and I started to tear up because I was thinking, "Now that is a d@mn good white family." So, at least I know he wasn't mad at us.

In order to avoid further embarrassment, Nic got his first trip to the barbershop. I had a small miscommunication with the barber and both boys ended up almost bald. They also both hated it. They both screamed and cried the entire time and had to be held down. Fun times.

Recovered!

2011-10-02T17:06:00.007-05:00

Kicking whatever nasty bug I had took longer than I thought, but I am finally feeling good again. We've had a lot going on in the past few days- beach trips, park trips, getting together with friends, a going away party for my brother and his wife, my family birthday party, and probably some more things that I have forgotten about. Sometimes being on vacation is very very tiring.

Here are some pictures of the boys enjoying themselves in the sunshine:

A Rare Treat

2011-09-30T07:51:00.000-05:00

L to R, Top to Bottom: Aunt Robin, Katie, Colleen, Mom, Me, Emily, Heidi, Erin, Gretchen, Grandma Cox

All of my siblings were in town for Grandma Kay's surprise party, something that occurs much less frequently now that we live scattered all over the country (LA, NY, Chicago, and soon, Seattle). It just so happened that my Dad's brother's girls, who are also spread out like we are, were also in town on the very same weekend for a baby shower. That meant that we had a rare assemblage of sisters, cousins, moms, aunts, and Grandma Cox at the shower, so we decided to take a picture to commemorate the occasion. Here's some reproductive multiplication for you: Grandma had four sons, those four sons had fifteen kids between them. Seven of those fifteen kids have started families, resulting in sixteen grandchildren (this includes those currently in utero). Imagine what might happen when the rest of the bunch decides to reproduce!

We May Never Fly Again

2011-09-27T19:39:00.001-05:00

Rewind a few days- the boys and I flew out to California to surprise my Grandma for her 80^th birthday. I haven't blogged about it because the party was Friday night and up until that point we were in hiding so as to keep the whole thing a surprise.

Wednesday morning I woke up with the flu. Thankfully, it was a aching/chills/congestion flu, and not the sort where you are running to the bathroom and puking. Jeff took a sick day to take care of me and the boys, and our flight wasn't until the evening, so I figured I had plenty of time to recover and regain my strength. I might have been wrong.

I rolled out of bed long enough to finish packing and get myself semi-presentable for the airport. In all honesty I looked wretched, but what can you do? It would have cost us more than our tickets were originally worth to change them, and since I haven't noticed any money trees growing in my garden lately it was fly sick or miss our entire trip.

Our problems began on the way to the airport. About twenty minutes into the drive I heard a soft snoring from the backseat. Tommy was out like a light. Now, for some people that might not bode ill, but Tommy is s-l-o-w to wake up from naps if he does not wake up on his own, and in those cases he usually wakes in what can only be described as a foul mood. We roused him at the departures curb and he immediately began to cry...daddy...daddy...daddy. He kept up a low, moaning, cry of daddy all the way through security. Now, if my kids looked like me this would probably be merely annoying, but since they don't, I got stared at like I was some kind of kidnapper. You have no idea the hard looks I received standing in the many lines, and since I am on the oblivious side when it comes to people staring at us (you learn to ignore it), that means it was really bad. More than one person tried to ascertain our relationship in a clumsy and obvious way. It got to the point that I started referring to Tommy only as "son" and myself as "mommy." Tommy cheered up right at the endpoint of the security line, which was good because I've gotten lazy about traveling with copies of our adoption papers.

After security I took the boys to Potbelly's for dinner. Tommy adores the airport Potbelly's because he can sit in the outside part and watch all the people walking through the terminal. I adore it because it is seriously cheap for airport food. I never spend more than ten bucks there, and for three of us at an airport that is not bad. So, we are in Potbelly's, I order us a big sized sandwich to split, and we snake through the line which is cleverly set up to cram as many people into a very small area as possible. Between the crowds and the noise, I began to feel a little woozy, then light headed, then hot, then cold, then really really nauseous. By the time we got our sandwich and made it to the cashier the room was spinning and I had just enough time to ask for a bag and sit down on the floor before I started retching.

Now, Tommy has, in all the time that he has lived with us, NEVER thrown up. Never. Ever. So he is staring at me like I have four heads and he is scared to death of me. Nicolas, on the other hand, pukes with great frequency, so he thinks mom barfing is hilarious. He was positioned on my front in an Ergo (while I'm crouched on the floor) desperately flailing his arms in an attempt to stick his hands into the brown bag that I was vomiting in. I'm sorry to say that he did succeed, but I was fast enough to keep his hands clean.

So, imagine my embarrassment when I realize that (of course) basically everyone in Potbelly's is staring at us, and a bunch of people are crowding around and asking if they can help. That placed me in an awkward position. I mean, who wants to announce something along the lines of "don't worry, I just have the flu!" to an entire roomful of travels who probably haven't gotten their flu shots yet? I might as well wear a sign that says, "I am a really bad person who travels when sick because I can't afford to change our tickets." No thanks. So, instead I accepted some help with our food, a cup of ice water, and I staggered to a table with the boys in tow hoping that no one else will take notice.

About two seconds after we sit down, Tommy announces that he has to pee. NOW. I have to admit that we broke a major rule. I asked some nice looking men sitting next to us to watch our bags while we went to the bathroom. I simply could not drag the boys, the food, and our toy bags into the bathroom. I didn't have the energy. So, our bags were out of my sight before we boarded the airplane. Forgive me, Shannon Hamilton.

Dinner was uneventful, I felt a little better after eating and Tommy had a grand old time people watching and seeing how many travelers he could get to wave back at him. I felt strong enough to make it to our terminal, until I found out that we were in the one terminal (in a relatively small airport) that was THE FARTHEST ONE. It took us so long to get there that I was a little worried we might not make it, but we did.

The flight started out great. Both boys behaved really well, they played with their toys, ate their snacks and were generally happy. Then the requests for going to the bathroom began, and of course, the seat belt light was still on. I am such a rebel that I took Tommy to the bathroom anyway. It was better than him peeing on himself, which is what would have happened since the seatbelt sign remained on for about all but twenty or so minutes of our four hour flight. You can understand that the boys felt a bit squirmy after the first few hours. Nicolas was particularly restless, and worked himself up just enough to vomit (see a theme for the evening) all over himself, my shirt, my jeans, and our seat. It was so voluminous that it even made it down the outside of our aisle seat. It was quite a highlight. I think my tipping point was when the flight attendant asked if Nic (who at his age does not listen to reason or logic and was fussy but was not by any means screaming) could keep it down so that passengers around us could sleep.

Our flight landed at nine.

NINE.

It was not a red-eye. It was a half-full flight with open seating so anyone who really didn't want to sit near children could have moved when we sat down (or, not chosen to sit near us in the first place). I was so irritated I sort of wanted him to scream just out of spite. I am all for polite behavior when children travel, especially for children who are old enough to know better, but I also think it is silly to expect that kids, especially infants and toddlers, won't make any noise on a four hour flight. Seriously, if any airline doesn't want kids making noise on a plane they should change their business model and not sell tickets to young passengers. We were on Southwest for crying out loud, it wasn't as if we were in first class or on an airline that markets to primarily to adults!

Anyhow, we arrived safe and sound in LA and the wonderful women sitting behind us assisted us to baggage claim, and my parents took over from there. My mom informed me publicly that I looked "peaked" (which is her code word for awful), and privately informed me that I looked horrible, and since my mother is biased toward thinking I look good, I can only imagine how wretched I must have appeared to those around us...hopefully they all went home and sanitized their hands really well, because it turned out to be one nasty bout of illness.

Contentment

2011-09-24T15:56:00.001-05:00

Last week at bible study I received a challenge to choose one word to focus on for the rest of the year. On my own I would probably not do such a thing, but my naturally competitive nature can never refuse a challenge, so I resolved to take it. Immediately the word "contentment" came to my mind. At the time I was thinking it was appropriate for this phase of my life for the following reasons:

Jeff's job is not a permanent position, because it is a post-doc. The way a post-doc works you trade security and money for a chance to learn a new skill. It isn't a bad trade-off while you are learning that new skill, but once you are good at it (and Jeff is) it is really just working for a fraction of your market value. And since it isn't a permanent position, you can never really settle. That bothers me. I am so thankful that Jeff has a job, and that he has the security of one more year of funding, but I would really like for him to earn what he is worth, because money=children when you are an adoptive family.

I also would like to be settled. I know that life and real estate aren't what they used to be when my parents got married and bought their first house right away, but I never thought I would be THIRTY and renting. I feel so irresponsible. With Jeff in a position that isn't permanent we can't settle. I have no idea where we will be living this time next year. That bothers me. It would also be super nice to have a washer, a dryer, and a dishwasher. It wasn't too much effort to go without these things with one child, but with two...it is a lot harder. (For the record, I fully realize these are dumb "first world problems")

Furthermore, until we know where we will be living we can't even think about starting another adoption. Since Nic is so young we would likely be waiting a while anyway, but it irritates me that I can't even ponder it. (In case you were wondering why-each state has different rules, and if we end up moving mid-adoption we will have a lot more work to contend with, and lose quite a bit of money).

I will be honest with you, I like control, and having all of the above totally and completely out of my control drives me a little crazy. Hence, I need to focus on contentment for my "big picture."

Then, this morning I realized my need to find contentment is in more than those big things that I was focusing on.

I was so excited to go to bible study Tuesday morning. We are reading a great book (Thomas, Sacred Parenting), and it was my turn to lead. I prepared the previous night and was looking forward to a great discussion because my bible study group ROCKS. Imagine my dismay when I awoke Tuesday morning to the sweet sound of Tommy hacking up a lung. I asked how he felt and he said he was sick. Last week at bible study I made a big deal about people keeping sick kids home...so I could hardly pretend to ignore the cough and congestion and take him anyway. Thus I got up and made him a special breakfast and coddled him all morning, I wrapped him up on the couch so he could listen to Adventures in Odyssey, and gave him tons of snuggles. Imagine my dismay when he experienced a mid-morning recovery and used the brief period during which I was putting Nic down for his nap to cover our living room wall in Oberweiss cow stickers. Our new decor features dancing, ice-cream eating bovines- it's tres chic.

At that point I was not in the most pleasant of parenting moods, and I was really really mad that I had missed bible study for no reason. In my little snit I realized that my need to be content in the day-to-day is just as important as my need to be content with the transitions in my life. I apparently have a lot more to work on than I originally thought, because it's going to be really hard to learn to live with those cows...

Meeting Nicolas

2011-09-22T20:25:00.000-05:00

In honor of Nicolas' six month adoptiversary here are the videos of our first meetings with Nicolas.

I met Nicolas the day after I arrived in Congo. I had time to adjust a bit, sleep...sort of, shower, relax, and get really sweaty driving around in an un-air-conditioned van before heading to Nic's orphanage to meet him. Nicolas' orphanage was closer to a group home than a standard orphanage. They had about ten kids there, and ages ranged from a young teenage girl to a baby slightly younger than Nic. There were actually only two babies, so the crib Nic and the other little guy slept in wasn't very crowded. It was the first orphanage we visited, and I was impressed with how spacious and clean everything was, even though it was clear (based on watching them feed Nic) that nutrition wasn't optimal. However, conditions there were infinitely better than everywhere else we visited. After viewing the yard and home, I went into the sitting room with one of the other moms (who had been in DRC longer and had met her son already) and we all sat down and they brought Nicolas to me. He had on his "confused" face- the deeply furrowed brows, but he came to me, which was a relief.

Here is the big moment:

I didn't actually get to leave with Nic right then. The orphanage wanted us to come back in the evening for the official pick-up with the patroness of the orphanage present (and she was working at the time). I handed him back and prepared to pick him up later on.

Jeff's meeting with Nicolas was very different from mine. When Jeff arrived at the guesthouse, Nicolas had been living there with me for three weeks, and he was napping in our room. Jeff had only a few minutes to settle in before Nicolas woke up, and we didn't have any time to waste on showers or eating because the planned transition period between Jeff and me was so short and Nic needed to start acclimating to his dad. Here they are:

Here are Tommy and Nicolas meeting in the airport:

A Big City Weekend

2011-09-20T07:51:00.000-05:00

Last weekend we were happy to have Aunt Katie and Uncle Jeremy come for a visit. They happened to overlap a few hours with Aunt Emily, so at one point we had five adults and two kids in our apartment- who would have guessed we could all fit?

Both Katie and Jeremy had been to Chicago before, but Jeremy's only visit was for a job interview, so he hadn't seen many sights. Also, Uncle Jeremy likes to eat. I think it might be his passion. Thus he had a few places picked out that he wanted to try, so the rest of us went along for the culinary adventure.

On Friday we drove first to UIC's campus to visit the Hull House. Aunt Katie is a social worker, so she was interested in viewing the exhibit. The museum supposedly offered a little game to keep kids distracted, but when we asked the docent she said they were revamping the program so they didn't have it. That was a bummer, because it was one of those museums that is on the boring side for kids and Tommy was not entirely thrilled about the visit. Even worse, it turned out that they did have the kid's game, but we didn't find out until right before we left when another docent offered it to us. It did distract Tommy pretty well for those last few minutes though. After the museum we went to Hot Doug's, one of the places Jeremy wanted to try that was fairly close to the Hull House. I had never been there before so I didn't realize that the lines to eat are very very long. Thankfully you spend most of the wait time outside, so Tommy ran around and played with sticks. The food at Hot Doug's is amazing- it was worth the trip. We made it home late in the afternoon just in time to rest for an hour and then drive to a pizza place Jeremy want to try in Morton Grove. It was very good pizza.

On Saturday we took the train into the city. It was a very long day, but it was also a lot of fun. We hit all the tourist spots, State Street and Marshall Field's, Millennium Park, the Magnificent Mile, and the Hancock Building. The only thing we didn't get to do was an architectural tour, but Jeff and I have been on quite a few, so we were able to do a fairly lame imitation of one as we roamed the streets. Then Jeremy and Katie went to a Rick Bayless restaurant and we took the boys to Chipotle. Same difference, right? After dinner we met up and the old guys went to a Hum concert while Katie and I took the boys home on the train.

Sunday we tried to make it to church, but I gave up on the idea when I realized we had about 20 minutes until the service started and only one person ready. It is not much fun to have six people and one shower. We ended up heading to Naperville for the river walk, then back to Oberweiss for some ice cream (Tommy's favorite). All in all, it was a great weekend, even though I never want to eat out again!

Destination: Indiana Wedding, The Final Stretch

2011-09-16T07:54:00.000-05:00

Our vacation ended very well. In describing the fun things that we did during the wedding weekend I have neglected to mention that the place we had rented for the weekend, which was supposed to be a cozy cabin in a family friendly area turned out to be a filthy, trashy, gross little room in a place that is decidedly not family friendly unless you think loud, drunken, chain smoking adults blasting music at 11:30pm while playing bean bag toss is "family friendly". Now, recall, Jeff and I both spent time in the Congo recently so it isn't as though we must have luxury accommodations...the very worst room I stayed in at the guest house in DRC was by far cleaner than this cabin. The dust was so hard on Jeff's allergies that he was miserable every time we went in, and it was so dirty that we were constantly worrying about what the boys were touching. Thus, we stayed away from our cabin as much as possible. However, on Sunday a room at the wonderful lodge that the wedding reception was held at opened up, so we were able to enjoy the last night of our vacation in a clean, comfortable space. It was awesome.

Also, that meant we were closer to the wedding party and lots of our friends...and it meant a late night campfire and s'mores and an early morning boat ride. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful time away.

Time For A Swim, Or, Destination: Indiana Wedding Part III

2011-09-15T07:36:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: We are still catching up on posting about all of our end-of-summer vacation activities. We're almost done, but we've got a couple left.

Sunday began grey and rainy, but by the time we finished with lunch (which was late) the sky had cleared and the air approached warm. For the kids, this meant only one thing: swim time! The lodge that the wedding reception was held at had a play area and beach with a sand entry, a shallow area surrounded by a dock, and a water slide. It took Tommy a few minutes to get up his courage for going all the way in the water, but after seeing his older buddies take the plunge he was anxious to follow their example, and ended up asking to "swim" all the way out to the float where a number of the grown ups were soaking up the sun. Nicolas stayed dressed and dry, and had a nice time playing in the sand. It was a a nice last hurrah for summer.

And So It Begins

2011-09-13T13:48:00.009-05:00

Today marked the first day of our fall schedule, so summer is officially over. BOO. We have had a crazy schedule these last few weeks, between vacations and out of town guests we have been alone in our home only two of the last eighteen days. Yes, I counted so I could impress you. We've been out of state twice, had one Grandma, two Aunts, and one Uncle stay, and we had a blast...but we are exhausted.

Thus I have mixed feelings about the start of our schedule. On the one hand, I am excited about seeing all of my friends (and Tommy was THRILLED to see his) and starting up some great bible studies, but on the other I sort of feel like I need about a week of nothing to get ready for all of it.

The thing that I was least ready for was dropping Nicolas off in the nursery. It was Nicolas' first time in childcare. It was hard. He's been with us for almost six months (can you believe it?), but I still had a difficult time with this step, in fact, it was harder with Nicolas than it was with Tommy. Nicolas is not a fussy guy. He is one of those kids that you worry about because there is nothing to worry about (for those of you without adopted kids, perfect behavior is a huge red flag because it often means that the child has been conditioned not to complain). Since coming home he has become much more vocal and demanding about his needs and very good about communicating what it is he wants, so I feel really good about his attachment and his adjustment to family life, but I do worry about his needs being met in a large group because I know he likely won't complain in that setting. True to form, when I picked him up the caregivers said that he didn't fuss at all (big surprise), and that he was perfectly behaved (of course). As soon as he came to me it was obvious that he was very thirsty (he has a signal for drinking that is pretty easy to interpret). Now, I am happy that he made that need known to me, but it is hard to know that he had a need and did not seek to get it met. I am not at all blaming the caregivers- they couldn't have known that he was thirsty because he chose not to fuss. I am completely at a loss as to what to do. He is only in childcare situations for two hours at the most a few days a week, so it isn't as though he will suffer any physical harm if he does not complain when he is thirsty, but I don't want his fears of unmet needs reinforced. Anyone dealt with this before? Any ideas?

And for fun...a little picture of Tommy and his Aunt Emily from our crazy few weeks. They are posing with their "Bub" at Tommy's very favorite rib joint. Aunt Emily knows how to speak Tommy's "love languages"- snuggles and food!

The Whistle Stop

2011-09-08T08:12:00.000-05:00

The day after the wedding was damp and cool, so we scrapped our plans to swim and visit a nearby buffalo farm (a wet hayride did not sound like fun) and instead went to a few antique/junk stores and to a fun train-themed restaurant. It turns out that antiquing with a two young boys is not exactly relaxing, because they really like to touch everything. It worked because we were with lots of friends and therefore many extra hands. Tommy found a number of things he wanted but did not get, mostly because I don't want a trumpeting Cookie Monster or a Cars themed kitchen towel/potholder set in my home.

For lunch we went to the Whistle Stop restaurant in Monon, IN. It was perfect. They had trains that ran around the interior of the restaurant on elevated track, and outside they had an open refurbished caboose car that the kids played in, some other train cars to look at, lots of track to run on, and a depot to sit at. Tommy and the other kids had a great time. We enjoyed the chance to sit around a big long table with our friends and hang out and eat mid-western food...just like old times in Galena.

Destination: Indiana Wedding

2011-09-07T08:28:00.001-05:00

Last weekend we attend out first "destination" wedding. Most destinations weddings involve a beach in Hawaii, the Caribbean, or Mexico, but this one was different. Instead of traveling to an exotic local we went to the shores of a lazy river, next to an old family cottage, and watched a dear friend say her vows. It was hot, it was sticky, there were many mosquitoes and a few rude jet skiers, but it was also beautiful.

As a family we've attended three weddings this summer. We love that the boys have been invited, because that has allowed us to come too (we are just about to take the baby sitting plunge with Nic but haven't done so yet). Each has been absolutely lovely, but I never remembered to bring my camera, so I haven't been blogging about them.

This weekend also doubled as a family vacation/ reunion with dear friends, so between the festivities and the down time we had one wonderful weekend.
I am scrambling to get ready for some out of town guests, so I don't have the time I would like to reflect on how incredible our time was. It was restful, it was restoring, and it was FUN.

Here are a few pictures of the main event. I'll post some of our "down time" pictures tomorrow.

Grandma Janie Comes to Visit

2011-09-06T21:17:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday we drove home from Kentucky so that Jeff could head back to work Monday morning. Monday afternoon Jeff's mom, Jane, flew in from Kentucky and the boys and I picked her up at the airport. Tommy had asked if Grandma Janie would go to the zoo with him, and he was more than a little disappointed that we didn't head straight to the zoo from the airport. We wisely decided to wait until the next day.

On Wednesday we went to Cantigny. We started with an hour long tour of the McCormick house, and the boys made it through with only some minor fussing and one incidence of laying down on the floor. This led to me carrying both boys through quite a bit of the house, but it was worth it. Afterwards we stopped to smell the roses in the garden and had a picnic lunch on the lawn. Then we went to the First Division Museum. Tommy had been before, about a year ago, and actually liked it a lot, but this time he found the exhibits to be scary...either that or he wanted someone to carry him through the museum, which Grandma Janie did since Nicolas was sleeping in the Ergo by that time. He did really like the replica soldiers in the front of the museum, and I am so PROUD to say that his favorite was the Revolutionary soldier. My influence abounds.

Thanks for visiting Grandma Janie!

Happy Game Day!

2011-09-03T07:26:00.000-05:00

GO BRUINS!!!

Our Old Kentucky Home

2011-09-02T07:27:00.000-05:00

Last weekend we spent fourteen hours on the road. Seven hours each way, plus stops, for just under two days with our family. It was a lot of driving, but some times you have to go the distance.

Three years ago we had the opportunity to visit our extended family in Kentucky, and we had such a good time it's hard to believe it has taken us so many years to get back. We went down this time for the yearly family reunion. Jeff's grandmother, Sue, was one of ten siblings, and the vast majority of those siblings and their progeny continue to live in or around Kentucky. As you can imagine, when ten kids have kids, and then grand kids, the resulting party can be quite crowded even when not everyone can make it.

Surviving siblings with their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren

We drove down Friday and spent the evening with Jane, Jeff's mom, her Aunt Audrey, and her cousins Donna (our host for the weekend) and Mona. Friday I had my first (and only) Kentucky grammar mix-up. I took Tommy outside to play, as Donna has an immense yard, but he spied the swing set in the (unfenced) neighbor's yard and made a beeline for it. I was explaining to him that he needed to get off because it wasn't our swing set when the owner of the swingset came out.

Her: "I don't care for him to play on the swing set."
Me: "Ok, I'm working on getting him off."
Her: "No, I don't care for him to play on the swing set."
Me: confused face.
Her: "I don't care. I just want him to be careful because the last swing is broken."
Me: "Oh, so it's ok for him to play on the swing set?"
Her: "Yes, I don't care."

And that's how it went. Thankfully, that was my only incident.

Saturday we spent the morning being stuffed to the gills by Donna, all while she insisted that it wasn't a proper breakfast. She is the hostess with the most-ess, let me tell you. Then we went to the community center of Broughtontown (pronounced Brought-in-town) for the big gathering. Broughtontown was the place that the family first settled in Kentucky. There was a massive potluck with lots of fried chicken, ham, roastbeef, every kind of side dish you can imagine, and at least 10 different desserts. The big highlight for Tommy were the fresh fruit smoothies that were being whipped up to order and served in fancy glasses. Needless to say, we did not go hungry.

Good eats

Making smoothies

Oops

Smoothies are serious business

After eating there were some performances, one of which Tommy decided to participate in. He actually got up on stage with the big group of kids and sang "He's got the Whole World in His Hands" complete with hand motions. That was obviously my favorite, but my second favorite was the rendition of "I am my own Grandpa[w]." Hilarious.

When things wrapped up we played bingo, and I won the blackout round. I do love bingo, so it was quite a triumph.

Bingo!

The biggest surprise of the party was how much fun Tommy had. Sometimes strangers/large crowds throw him off, but he fell in love with the other kids who were there and spent the entire time playing. I barely saw him the entire time. He is still talking about "those kids at the party" and asking to play with them. It was so sweet. Both Tommy and Nicolas seemed to hit it off with all the relatives, which was wonderful.

Making friends

Group photos are a challenge

We spent the rest of the weekend hanging out and being stuffed full of food, which is always nice. We are so thankful to have some family within driving distance and for the weekends that we have been able to spend with them.

Soccer Camp

2011-08-27T07:09:00.000-05:00

Pizza Bagel Upgrade

2011-08-26T08:49:00.002-05:00

I've noticed that quite a few of my blogging friends have been favoring their readers with lovely tutorials for making all kinds of delicious meals. I thought I should jump into the fray.

Now, if you are like me, you sometimes gaze longingly at the box of bagel bites in your grocer's freezer, but you will never actually buy them because you know deep in your heart that they are gross, that they were gross when you last ate them in college, and that you should never feed them to your children. Still, the siren song of the bagel bite beckons you because they look delicious in the pictures.

I have a solution that allows you to feel a little like you are eating a bagel bite, but far far less guilty. Also, it is way easier to make than regular pizza because you can skip making the dough, and it will heat up your house much less on humid summer nights (this is the real reason I devised these, also we had a bunch of bagels).

In order to make this truly high class, you need to start with premium ingredients.

First, you need a bagel with a little something extra. We went with Parmesan bagels.

Slice those in half, and spread them with a spaghetti sauce. You aren't allowed to use anything that comes out of a can. Jars only! It will also be more upscale if you choose a fancy sounding flavor. Like Basil.

Next, you have to use multiple cheeses. Two cheese or three cheese sounds like something you might order at a restaurant. Use mozzarella as a base, and then grate some fresh Parmesan and/or Pecorino Romano on top.

If you prefer cheese, then you're done! My kiddos like toppings, so they got diced green bell pepper. Jeff likes meat, so he got diced salami, prosciutto, and capicola (can you tell I bought an Italian deli meat trio that week?), and I went hog wild- meat, peppers and onions.

Bake at 350 for 15 minutes or until cheese bubbles.
I know, it would look so much more delicious if I could take a decent picture...

Tommyisms

2011-08-23T09:33:00.000-05:00

Three is quite an age. I could seriously do without the tantrums that come out of no where, the stubbornness, and the intentional disobedience (and the many many timeouts that accompany it). I will be happy when my children's brains start functioning properly, which I think happens when they turn twenty-five. That said, it is also so much fun to be able to finally communicate really well, to watch Tommy learn so many things every day, and to listen to the crazy things he comes up with.

J: Tommy, you're rad.
T: No Daddy! I'm not red, I'm brown. (pause) I'm chocolate!

T: Mum, I have a new name: Mister Corn.
(Next day). Mum's name is Mister Lady Corn, and I'm Mister Corn.

After hearing us call Nicolas a "Strawberry Piggy," because that child can eat his weight in strawberries, Tommy began creating similar labels for himself, including:
"Strawberry Walrus," "Cherrio Dolphin," and "Pizza Tiger."

A phone book was tossed on our doorstep, and Tommy declared it a "package in the mail" and opened it. He announced that he had received "The Storybook of God." He then proceeded to "read" me the highly blasphemous tales found in said story book (we might start calling it the second gospel of Thomas).

The first story was "Jesus yelled at the people, 'Don't take my pizza!'" Every story after that was about Jesus getting trouble for splashing people in the eyes, pouring water out of his bath, and other things that Tommy has actually been punished for this week. Of course I repeatedly explained that Jesus never did bad things, something that we have discussed before, but this truth has yet to be reflected in the stories Tommy reads from the phone book. This leads me to wonder, Susan De La Paz, what on earth are you teaching my child in Sunday School?

Tommy's love for Robin Hood (with the Foxes, not Kevin Costner), has led to a number of hilarious out of context or misinterpreted moments. I will limit myself to my favorite:

He got very mad at Nicolas one day and yelled, "I sentence you to sudden, instant, and even immediate DESK!"

(for those not familiar with the movie, this is an imitation of Prince John using the line to sentence Robin Hood to death, a word that we have yet to explain). Tommy heard me repeat the story to a friend, and realized from what I was saying that he got the line wrong. Now he sentence Nicolas to "immediate DECK."

Tommy has started soccer lessons or whatever you call it. I just signed him up in the hopes that they would make him run laps for an hour while kicking a soccer ball because he has more energy than can be easily expended in our small apartment and yard. Soccer was the only sport open for kids his age. He hasn't exactly taken to it, mostly because he wants to hold the ball. At the second lesson, which was held on a basketball court in a gym due to rain, the coach announced they would be having a soccer game/ Tommy responded by asking if he could just shoot some baskets. The next session they were back at the park, and Tommy spied some kids playing football, and pointed at them and announced very loudly that he would rather play "that game." I am thankful that camp is almost over.

Heavy Hearts

2011-08-20T20:26:00.008-05:00

It's been quite a week for bad news - before I explain, it's nothing to do with Nicolas' health or anything within our immediate family (so don't worry mom). We have some friends that could really use your prayers, so I'm sharing.

When we were in DRC, we stayed with a couple, Joel and Kristie, who were basically the champions of Congo. They had been there so long they should have purchased real estate and started to grow their own food. Since they had plenty to tales to tell, as we sat around killing time (and by time, I mean hours and hours and hours), we got to hear stories of what they had experienced. One of the names that I heard over and over again was Reagan. Reagan is the mother to Theo, and she is apparently quite cool and tons of fun (and was also wickedly sick at one point). In addition, Reagan was the reason that I had bottle liners and nipples (she brought and left extra, and I didn't bring enough), dish soap, and probably quite a few other things that I got from the community stash. Anyhow, she and Theo got home before we left, so our paths never crossed directly.

A few months after they got home, Theo got pretty sick and they thought he had an infection. The infection turned out to be leukemia, and not just any leukemia, a very rare genetic variation that is particularly hard to cure. He went through chemo, and they were told he was in remission. They went in for the second round of chemo this week, and found out that the test that put him in the remission category was inaccurate. He was not in remission at all, and he would need a transplant. Theo has no known biological siblings to give him bone marrow. His odds of being matched on the bone marrow registry are one in a million. Apparently there is the possibility of curing him using cord blood, and finding a match for that should be a little easier. Either way, this is going to be a long hard battle for his family. Please take a minute to pray that a match of some sort will be found. Pray for little Theo, who barely had time to adjust to his new home before he had to move into the hospital and spend day after day being poked, prodded, and pumped full of medication. Pray for his mom and dad and older siblings and they soldier on through this difficult time of having one parent living in the hospital and one at home. If you have a minute, you might also consider contacting the national bone marrow registry and signing up to be a donor if you haven't already become one. It's easy - just a cheek swab. You probably won't be Theo's match (unless you happen to be of African descent, and if so please please sign up because minorities are very underrepresented on the registry), but you may be someone else's one in a million.

The other family I would love for you to lift up in prayer is the Vargas family. We met Susan and Lineu Vargas when we lived in Evanston. They were members of the young adults group that we joined shortly after we began attending First Pres. They were married right before we met them, so I always knew (and thought of them) as a unit - and they were one of those couples that are so obviously right for each other. Lineu was sincerely charming and kind, and his love for Susan was so evident in the way he treated her and talked about her, and I think the way a man treats his wife can tell you a great deal about his character. Lineu was a man of great character and of strong faith.

This week Lineu was killed in a car accident, along with his step-father and uncle. While I am so thankful to know that Lineu is hanging out with Jesus, I cannot even begin to comprehend what Susan now faces as she contemplates life without her husband and goes through the process of mourning his loss. The day we found out that Lineu had died was also the day that we found out that Susan is pregnant with their first child. She is in her first trimester. It adds something to our sadness to know that there is a child who will never know his or her wonderful father, and to think of what an amazing dad Lineu would have been, but what a joy that part of him will continue on in this tiny being he helped to create. Susan has traveled to be with Lineu's family (he was with them doing business when he died). Lineu's mother had to bury both her son and her husband on the same day (and this is the second husband she has had to mourn, as Lineu's father also died suddenly). Lineu's uncle leaves behind a grieving wife and son. Lineu also has a brother who now must shoulder a great deal of responsibility in the wake of so much loss. Please cover this family in prayer. They have lost so much so quickly. Susan and her baby are especially heavy on my heart. Obviously I am more sensitive than most to all of the things that might go wrong during pregnancy, so I am so concerned for the health and safety of the child in her womb. Thus, I beseech you to take a moment (or many moments) and lift them up in prayer.

Train Spotting

2011-08-18T07:53:00.000-05:00

We have had perfect weather this week. Seriously, if we had a real beach (sand at the edge of a lake is not a real beach) I would be right at home.

We've been trying to take advantage of the lovely temperatures and low humidity by getting outside as much as possible, but since we don't have a community pool, and I don't like trekking to the zoo everyday I've had to be creative. Thus, we found ourselves packing a picnic lunch, loading up the stroller (my double jogger is rocking my world), and heading to the train station to eat and watch the trains go by. The boys had loads of fun eating lunch on the benches by the fountain. I was happy that they got to see a handful of trains, since most of the trains on our tracks are commuter, and noon isn't prime time for commuting. After over an hour of free entertainment, the boys were still not ready to leave even though nap time was fast approaching. Thus I offered a return trip at some point in the future...and Tommy decided that the future should be very very soon. So, we went back for dinner.

Trip One:

Here, Nic. Have some of this clementine.

You got room for more in there?

Hold still. I'm trying to give you more clementine.

A fount of silliness

Good ol' BNSF

Tommy's train dance

Trip Two

Waiting for a train with Daddy

Waiting for a train with Mum

Check-Ups and Check-Ins

2011-08-17T07:16:00.000-05:00

This past week Nic had both his one year check-up and his three month social worker visit. I'm pretty sure we "passed" both.

Nic continues to be as healthy as a horse with a possible case of sickle cell disease. He is growing, and is at average weight and above average height. He has taken his first steps, and is keeping me on my toes with his shenanigans. We found a very nice pressure mounted baby gate this weekend at an awesome discount (love us some garage sales) and installed it in front of the kitchen. Now I can rest easy that Nicolas isn't pulling every single can out of our cupboard...his former favorite activity. He still has access to our book cases, which he rearranges on a regular basis, so he still has outlets for fun and mess-making. Why won't he just play with his toys?

The social worker came and asked her questions, and didn't seem to find anything wrong, so I'm assuming we are fine on that count. Nic's adoption will be finalizing next month, and she assured me that she sent in her report so everything that we are in charge of for that event is completed. I am very excited to receive that ruling. Also, she stayed only in one room, which was awesome because I hadn't had time to clean the kitchen and our bedroom is messy...but she doesn't know that. Besides, fit parents can still have messy houses, right?

Our last bit of "news" - Nic's hematologist got back to us about the "conference" they had on Nic's case. Everyone agrees that Nic either has sickle/HPFH non-deletional or sickle cell disease. So definitive. That first bit of information means that they have ruled out the Ghanaian variant and those related to it, but that they still think HPFH is possible because there are rare types caused by point mutations that are difficult-to-impossible to detect with DNA tests. We are at the same place as before - they will test in six months and maybe decide, maybe not. The way the wind is blowing I'm guessing not...but I could be wrong. The good news is that everyone believes that if he has sickle cell disease that it will likely be a more mild version, simply because he has not had any issues thus far and continues to enjoy such good health. People who retain/maintain higher levels of HPFH who have SCD tend to have fewer problems than those with low levels. They are trying to interest a researcher at a University in his case, to see if someone will be willing to spend more time/money looking at his DNA for the purposes of research. We are praying that someone takes an interest in his case so that we might be able to have definitive answers.

I've been canning again this week - this time green bell pepper jelly. It looks very ugly because I am grossed out by the idea of adding food coloring, but it tastes so yummy - sweet and peppery without overwhelming spice. It set a bit harder than I wanted it to. Anyone else using the new Ball bulk fruit pectin and feel like you may be adding too much based on the canister instructions? Or maybe this is just one hard jelly. It spreads fine, so I'm not that worried about it.

The "What If" Moments

2011-08-14T17:41:00.000-05:00

A few nights ago we had a perfect summer evening. Low humidity, warm enough outside to be comfortable in shorts but still cool enough that we weren't dripping sweat, a beautiful sunset, and Tommy riding his big wheel up and down our street like a mad man and having a good ol' time. I chased him back and forth, ensuring that he kept out of the parking lots that our sidewalk runs into, and that he stayed far back from the street. Inside, Jeff and Nic were rocking out, as is their custom.

When Tommy and I finally parked the trike and came in, we found the two of them dancing, Jeff holding Nic, both of them with one arm outstretched, hands clasped and spinning slowly in a circle. Since nothing beats a family dance party, Tommy and I joined in. Immediately Nicolas began to laugh like crazy, and Tommy joined in and the look of sheer delight and unadulterated joy on both their faces made my heart swell. Watching them love each other, love being in our family, and love living their lives was so beautiful.

As I danced with them, held them, squeezed them, smothered them with kisses, the joy of the moment was interrupted by small, sad thought: what if?

What if my precious boys still lived in their respective orphanages?

What if their countries hadn't been open to Americans adopting?

What if we hadn't been open to adopting internationally? Or adopting a child with a different color skin than ours?

What if the children I now cherish lived in an institution, had access to minimal medical care, were malnourished, drank dirty water, and constantly had to fight for their needs to be met...still?

What if they never experienced the daily love, hugs, kisses and affirmation that come with being part of a family?

Both of our kids have come such a long way, the reality of their past rarely creeps in. It's easier to forget the sad truth about the places that they came from- it's easier to forget that they suffered physical and emotional deprivations, and it's easier to forget the millions of children who continue to languish in institutions with no family dance parties in their future because the "what ifs" in their lives haven't worked out.

Because of governments unable or unwilling to devise systems for adoption, either domestic or international.

Because of harsh economic circumstances.

Because of people who are afraid to take a chance on someone else's child.

In those "what if" moments, when I remember both my children's pasts and the bleak future of so many others, I am so thankful that God orchestrated our lives such that we were open to adoption after Leah died, and that we were encouraged to pursue this path at the time that we did. I am also thankful that I have seen the dirty, dark, desperate places where some children are forced to live, even though at times it it a burden to know and to have seen. Hard things are a blessing when they change us to be more like Christ. The images of those children seared on our hearts motivate us to live differently, to love broadly, and to give generously. That is why I'm grateful for the interruption of our perfect moments with "what if?"

Because what if we didn't remember the suffering of others? What if we did not act on the behalf of millions of orphans worldwide? What if we chose to forget?

Zucchini Week

2011-08-11T21:09:00.005-05:00

I love the abundance of summer.

This week we picked up a big bag of zucchini at church, so I've been canning, freezing, cooking, and baking with zucchini. The amount of zucchini I brought home was significantly less than last week's peach bonanza (although I could go for another half bushel of peaches right about now), so it was much easier and less time consuming.

The final count for the bag of zucchini:

4 small jars of summer squash pickles canned.
4 bags of blanched chopped zucchini bagged for future stir-frying
2 loaves of yummy pumpkin zucchini bread baked and wrapped in the freezer

Recipe for the bread here. I subbed in chocolate chips for the walnuts. Also, if you are going to cook large loaves turn the oven down to 325 or they will brown too fast, as you can see in the picture.

The Zucchini went fast - I have a few more canning recipes that I would like to try so maybe I'll find some more as the summer goes on. I would also be willing to make and eat a whole bunch of that chocolate chip zucchini pumpkin bread!

Fun In the Sun

2011-08-10T10:27:00.001-05:00

It's been a hot hot hot summer. This pic was taken on one of those days when it wasn't too hot to go outside:

This was taken on Jeff's make-up Father's Day. To celebrate he got to go swimming in a pool that is at least 1/4 pee, grass, and bugs (we have to fill it up early and let the water set a while to warm up because someone doesn't like cold water). What a great dad.

Where's Lightning McQueen?

2011-08-09T08:27:00.005-05:00

Tommy and I went for his first trip to the movies on Saturday morning. Tommy has been obsessed with Pixar's Cars for quite a while now, and so when we saw that Cars 2 would be coming out this Summer we figured that would be a good first movie for Tommy to see in a theater. Amy and I were disappointed when the movie got pretty poor reviews, but we figured that seeing the most mediocre Pixar movie was probably pretty far from the worst movie-going experience we would have to endure for the sake of our children. Having now seen Cars 2 I can confirm that it is indeed not very good, but it is also not nearly as bad as a number of movies I have sat though for the benefit of my wife.

As for the rest of the movie-going experience, I have to admit that I didn't think too much ahead of time about things that might complicate taking a three-year-old to his first movie (the scary folding seats, the dark theater, when is the movie going to start?, keeping quiet, bathroom breaks, seeing other kids eating popcorn and candy at 10:30 in the morning, etc). It wasn't even until I watched the exit of the first kid who had to pee that I realized that I might have wanted to take Tommy to the bathroom before the movie started, you know, maybe sometime during the approximately 45 minutes of commercials and previews which apparently air before all movies these days (Amy and I don't go to a lot of movies...). Fortunately, my son is awesome and has an iron bladder when seeing/not seeing any amount of Lightning McQueen is at stake. Actually I couldn't even talk Tommy into going potty after the movie, but I still think he would have held it willingly if he'd had to go.

Backing up a bit, we got to the theater about 15 minutes before showtime and stood in line briefly with a few other parents and children - some seeing Cars, some Winnie the Pooh, and some Smurfs, which thankfully Tommy hasn't heard of. I could tell Tommy was a little overwhelmed by all the lights and pictures and everything else in the lobby. My goal was to make it to our theater, which was at the end of the corridor, without having Tommy ask me anything about Final Destination 5. On a similar note, there are seriously a lot of posters with guns on the way to the G-rated fare.

Once safely inside theater #4 I quickly encountered complication #1: the seats. Actually, we ran into "when is the movie going to start?" first - before we even made it through the entrance, as soon as the screen was partially in view, Tommy wanted to know "where's Lightning McQueen?" He's coming - we just have to wait a few minutes so more people have time to get here. Variations on that theme were repeated often for the next 20-30 minutes, each sounding less convincing than the last - even to me.

The seat issue was a bit more of a problem than the wait. I thought that if I made the spring folding action look fun we would be ok, but, well, not so much. It wasn't hard to get Tommy to try it out, but as soon as he sat down and scooted back, the seat started to fold up, and he was not cool with that. I could hold it down with my leg, but I could tell that Tommy didn't really trust that he wasn't going to fall, so around the time the actual movie started Tommy was looking for another solution. Fortunately, I have a lap. Problem solved.

The dark theater wasn't a problem - I told Tommy that's how we would know when Cars was finally going to start. I did have brief scare regarding the "seeing other kids eating popcorn and candy" issue, as one kid came in and walked past us with his mom and huge thing of popcorn. Tommy: "I want some popcorn!" Me: "No Tommy, you just ate breakfast. We don't need any popcorn." But for a fraction of a second while I was saying that, I thought to myself, wait, should I let him have some popcorn at his first movie? Then I remembered of course that, no, it was a ten twenty AM showing. Thankfully, Tommy seemed to forget about popcorn as soon as it was out of view. And the world kept spinning.

Ultimately, I think Tommy had a really good time. I know he enjoyed the movie since he asked for more as soon as it ended, and he insisted that we stay and watch the entire end credits (which weren't interesting). Seriously, we were in there until the lights came up and the dude with the broom had already started sweeping. And I know I had a good time hanging out with my boy. And now, here are some pictures:

Are we excited yet?

Almost there... outside theater #4

There were a lot of previews

Millions of Peaches

2011-08-08T07:10:00.000-05:00

Went into the Country, got a lot of peaches.

A half bushel to be precise.

Here's something you should know about me for this story to make any sense: I am completely incompetent in areas related to spatial functioning. I'm that person who picks out a gallon sized tupperware to hold a cup of food, or worse, a cup sized tupperware to hold a gallon of food. I can't pack a bag, or a trunk, or organize a closet. I can't visualize what fits where - ever. Thankfully God gave me Jeff who is amazing at those sorts of things, and he balances me out and prevents me from attempting to rearrange the furniture in ways that can't possibly work.

While we were in Indiana we ate the most delicious, juicy, sweet peaches. All the peaches I've bought this year have been mealy or gone bad instead of ripened (grrr), so I was quite curious as to where the fantastic peaches came from. Lo and behold, the market that sold them was on the very road we were taking to drive home.

We stopped off and I ran out to buy the peaches, only to return to the car to tell Jeff that he and the boys should come in. The market was very cute - they had all kinds of fun things for sale - jams, fruit butters, bread mixes, hard candies by the pound, a wide variety of farm fresh fruits and vegetables, and little bags of popcorn for the kids to sample.

I found the section with peaches in the back. There were a few types, some in bins, some in baskets ready for sale, some in large buckets. Now, I knew that I wanted some to eat and some to use for jam. The baskets just didn't look big enough, so I went for one of the buckets. My warning should have been Jeff commenting "Don't you think that's a lot of peaches? Do you think that will fit in our trunk?" It did. Barely (we had the pack in play back there as well as a bag and a back pack and we drive a small car). I also picked up a giant cantaloupe, sweet corn, and bell peppers. I wanted cider too, but it had to be refrigerated.

On Monday I decided that I should attack my half bushel of peaches.

This is what it looked like when I started:

First, I picked out some ripe peaches for eating and some that would be ripe by the end of the week, so that we would have plenty fresh. Then I made some jam.

This is what it looked like after that:

At that point I realized I would need to be a lot more creative to find uses for my peaches. Over the course of the week I made another batch of jam, canned six pints of peach slices, did a batch of peach butter (which has nothing to do with actual butter, it's just a smooth, thick fruit spread - like apple butter), and made peach syrup (recipe here). Then I put the rest of the peaches in the "eat fresh" pile, because I was done.

The fruit of my labor:

Then, because the canner was already out and I had ripe tomatoes I made a round of salsa. It was my first attempt and it was not terrible, but it was very tomato heavy and thus too sweet and not spicy enough by half. Next time I will be trying a different recipe. My main canning goal is to make enough jam this summer to not have to purchase any during the winter, because I can use low/no sugar fruit pectin and make jam that is much healthier than what I will pay for at the store. Certain members of my family eat PB&J at least five days a week, so jam goes quick around here. Unfortunately I haven't had much luck finding good, ripe, and inexpensive fruit this summer, so the peaches were a nice breakthrough. My other goal is to make and preserve some great salsa from the tomatoes, jalapenos, habaneros, and bell peppers that I am growing in my garden. I've struck out on my first try, but am optimistic that my next batch of salsa could be better.

Nic Turns One

2011-08-06T19:31:00.000-05:00

How is it that my baby is one already? I mean, besides the small matter of us missing out on the first seven and a half months of his life?

Nicolas has gotten so big, and his little personality is starting to shine through. He loves imitating his Daddy, and has figured out little noises and gestures that make us laugh, and likes to put on little shows in from his booster seat. His old nick-name "Big Hands" continues to apply, as he spends much of the day grabbing everything in sight and trying to pull it down/out of place (also, he has big hands and feet compared to the rest of his body). He adores music and loves to wave his arms or dance when we listen to it. He eats very well, in fact, I have trouble keeping enough food on his tray because he gobbles whatever I give him right up.

We had a birthday cake for him at the Congo party. Everyone sang "Happy Birthday" and Nic (with a possible assist from Dad) blew out his candle. There can be no doubt that Nicolas enjoys cake. He ate it all, and wanted more. It was probably the best "store bought" cake I have ever eaten. I'm not an icing person at all- but the icing on this cake was so good that I would have eaten in plain. It was great to celebrate among friends, and it was especially neat to have the Woods family and Craig family there with us.

On Sunday, Nic's actual birthday, we spent the morning and early afternoon at the ongoing party, but had to spend the rest of the day driving home. We stopped at Cracker Barrel so that Nicolas could have a very cheesy midwestern/southern birthday dinner. He enjoyed his dinner, and was crazy about the ice cream that the waitress brought him as a birthday treat. Enjoy the sugar while you can, my child, because it will be a long time before you see this much of it again!

Clear As Mud

2011-08-03T21:16:00.000-05:00

Summary for those who don't want to wade through the long explanation:

Nicolas does not have Hereditary Persistent Fetal Hemoglobin/Sickle Cell as we had hoped. However, the hematologist still thinks there is a good chance that he does not have sickle cell disease. After all of the tests they did, including a DNA test, they have no idea what Nicolas has, and we will likely never know (unless they decide he has sickle cell disease).

The long explanation:

The earliest test results that we got back indicated that Nicolas likely had HPFH/Sickle Cell, but the further testing that they did to be absolutely sure did not confirm it. The good folks up at Mayo ended up looking at Nic's DNA to examine the genes that control making hemoglobin. People with regular HPFH have a specific part of their genes missing, and Nicolas had that part, which means he does not have the usual HPFH. Now, you may be asking, as I did, since there are two genes to control the formation of hemoglobin, and sickle cell disease requires both genes have the mutation for sickle cells, why don't they check and see if he has sickle cell mutations on both genes? Apparently DNA is a little more complicated that those neat double helix-illustrations make it look. According to the hematologist, it is all too muddled up to determine if both genes have sickle cell mutations. There are no more tests they can run. There is the possibility of sending Nic's blood to a researcher who specializes in sequencing hemoglobin genes, but the doctor said that tends to be worthless because you typically are not allowed to see the results of the tests they run if they are using it for research.

The group of hematologists that our Dr works with are having a meeting (actually, the Dr called it a conference) on Nicolas' case next Tuesday morning at U of C. I sort of wish I could go. Anyhow, perhaps someone there will have an idea of what to do next, but I got the sense that the whole point of the meeting is to marvel at the oddity of Nic's results, and that the Dr is not expecting any new answers. That said, we are praying that someone will have a flash of genius and come up with something.

So here is where this non-news leaves us:

Apparently, there are other mutations of HPFH that Nicolas might have, they can be difficult to find with DNA testing. It is possible that Nicolas has one of these. His "good" red blood cells closely resemble those of someone with HPFH in their size, uniform distribution throughout his blood, and in their apparent ability to prevent sickling (both because Nicolas has been asymptomatic thus far and because in his blood smears they haven't found clumped up sickle cells - highly unusual for a child with sickle cell disease). In addition, his spleen remains normal and healthy (also unusual for his age if he had SCD). The Hemotologist believes that it is most likely that Nicolas has some sort of HPFH, but we may never know a type or have a test result to prove it (it is possible he has a mutation/type that hasn't been documented yet).

There is also the possibility that Nicolas has sickle cell disease with some unknown factor that has kept his fetal hemoglobin way higher than the norm. Most people with sickle cell disease have higher levels of fetal hemoglobin than the rest of the population, but the high end of that spectrum is 20% fetal hemoglobin, and it is frequently not evenly distributed in the bloodstream. Nicolas has 38% fetal hemoglobin, evenly distributed. There are a few things that can cause high retention of fetal hemoglobin, but we would need to know more about Nic's parents and his first mother's pregnancy to determine if these could even be a factor. That information is not available.

Because sickle cell disease is still a possibility we will continue to treat Nicolas as if he has it. He will stay on penicillin, we will continue to go to the ER if he has a fever of 101 or higher (we were told that if the fever is less than 103 and everything else is normal he can just get some antibiotics and go home instead of checking into the hostpital- woohoo!). He will continue his special vaccination series. In six months we will go back and do more blood tests (no DNA this time though), and if his level of fetal hemoglobin remains more or less the same and everything else continues to look good then his statues will be reevaluated and we may begin to treat him as though he has sickle cell trait as long as he does not have a sickle crisis before then or show any signs of SCD. Or, you know, we may wait another six months, run a few more tests, etc, etc.

As you all know, I suspected that something was not right with Nic's test results when we had to come in for the appointment. Thus it was not at all surprising when the hematologist tried to "gently" break the bad news that he has no idea what Nicolas has, and that he may never know. I know at some point I just started laughing at the absurdity of it all. Seriously, THIS IS ABSURD. Hopefully the Dr doesn't think I'm hysterical. I know he thinks Jeff and I have the retention of eight year old's because he explained sickle cell disease to us, again, and he couldn't have explained it in a more elementary way without using a flannel board. If our relationship with our doctor continues (and we hope it will because we like him, respect him, and trust him) Jeff and I are trying to figure out a way to politely explain to him that while we obviously don't know anywhere near as much as he does about any of this, we are fairly well-read on the subject and don't need all this repetition coupled with overly simple explanations. It wastes valuable time, it is boring, and it irritates us. These appointments are billed at over $400 an hour- I don't want to spend Blue Cross' money on nonsense. Do you know how much all this sickle cell stuff is costing them already? Nic's ER/hospital visit was six grand. OUCH. Now would probably be a good time to mention that we are so thankful that Jeff has a job that offers a group plan, even if we do sometimes have to harass our medical group to honor the terms of the plan and pay our bills.

Anyhow, we are happy that we didn't get terrible news, although we would have preferred not to have to spend another six months in limbo. We are thankful we don't have to wait a year for more tests, which is what would usually be suggested, except our hematologist feels we should bend the rules because he is "severely curious" to see how the next round of tests comes out, and thought we would be as well (can you say understatement?). Approaching this round of waiting feels easier, because our hematologist has "a good feeling" about Nic's case, and since we've waited before we know what to expect. We love Nic no matter how crazy his DNA is, and we trust that God will sustain us once again as we watch and wait for answers about Nic's health.

Congo Party!

2011-08-02T08:12:00.000-05:00

This weekend we had an amazing opportunity to spend some time with a few of the families we traveled with and some other OFA families. The timing couldn't have been better. For one, it was Nic's birthday over the weekend, and two, we really needed a break from all of the waiting and wondering about Nic's medical issues. God provided us with the opportunity to be refreshed and to relax at just the right moment.

The party took place in Southern Indiana, in fact, had we gone much further we would have been in Kentucky. The family who hosted was so gracious and had a beautiful home that was perfect for the get together- a wooded, secluded lot with a pool, a play house, a zip line, and a tree swing - everything the kids could want! There was also good food and great conversation for the adults.

In total I think there were seven families, and twelve kids adopted from DRC (and more adopted elsewhere). It was a great experience for Nicolas, not that he can really remember or appreciate it, but I think he liked seeing his buddies from Congo. Tommy struggled a bit. He has been having a hard time lately with abandonment issues, (not related to his adoption directly); he is very very concerned that Jeff, Nicolas, and I are going to leave him. He also continues to have trouble with accepting Nicolas, and we had a few major setbacks on this front last week. Add that to being in the largest group of African kids he's seen since the orphanage, and he clearly was having a hard time discerning his place in the group, and acted out quite a bit. By the end of the weekend he became much more comfortable and was rather sorry to leave (and is already asking to go back).

I'm wanting to go back too. It was so so wonderful for us to catch up with our friends and meet more families that we have this shared experience with. I loved seeing how much the other kids we traveled with or visited while in Congo have grown. All of the children look so healthy, plump, happy, and best of all, scabies-free!

The kids enjoying lunch together

Jeff and Tommy

Nic's pruney little toes after LOTS of swimming

Cuddling and watching a movie

Twins! ;-)

Swinging!

More swinging

Jojo (above) and his "twin" Manny (below).

Love, love, love these boys.

All partied out

Summer Reading

2011-08-01T21:22:00.000-05:00

It's that time of year again. Since we do a lot of reading no matter what time of year it is, it's always fun to be rewarded with (mediocre) prizes.

Last year, you may recall, our library had a contest with great prizes for the family that read the most. This year the library has, sadly, given in to the "everybody gets a trophy" mentality and has ended the competition. I have no idea what the prizes are this year, and I suspect they are lame because they have not been advertised the way they were last year, but all you have to do to qualify for the drawing is complete the summer reading program as a "family" (Jeff is not in our family for summer reading purposes). To complete the program one only has to read 15 minutes a day. Tommy has already finished the program, and is on track to make it at least 2/3 of the way through a second time, if not complete it again (he would have read far more this summer, but he frequently loses his books as a punishment for misbehavior around bedtime- you have to get them where it hurts). Nic will also complete the program. I finished too, which means we are eligible for the family grand prizes again this year. If we do win the drawing, it would be nice, but it will lack the triumph of last year's victory because it would not truly be earned.

The theme of summer read this year is "Space Mission"- which I'm hoping is an homage and not an accidental anachronism.

Tommy with the shuttle that every child who completes the program signs

Tommy's signature (if you can't make it out, it reads "o T m m y")

With his personal space shuttle

The Great Debate

2011-07-27T22:37:00.006-05:00

I promise this is not a post on the debt ceiling.

The issue at hand: What was Nic's first word?

I think it was Mama. Jeff, however, has only heard him say Dada.

Three days ago, while Nic was crying about something or other, my guess would be Tommy hit him, or pinched him, or rolled on top of him, or took his toy...ah, brothers...he lifted up his arms and said, "waahhh, Mama, waahhh, Mama." When I picked him up the waahhhs continued but the Mamas stopped. I thought that Nic had perhaps said his first distinguishable word, but I didn't want to get overly excited and have some accuse me of being too much like my father (who claims I told him "I love you" at six months).

Last night, Jeff was putting Nic to bed for the second or third time. The little man is teething again and is up and down every few hours. When Jeff put him down and left the room, Nic started to scream clearly "Dada, Dada" until Jeff picked him up again. He did it again tonight.

Both times I overheard Nic clearly say Dada, but no one but me has ever heard him say Mama!

Nevertheless, I claim that he did say Mama, and that it should be documented as his first word.

While I don't have any footage of him talking, here is a darn cute video of him really enjoying some ice cream.

And the Wait Goes On...

2011-07-26T15:34:00.004-05:00

July 27. Tomorrow. After three months of waiting we were supposed to be getting answers about Nicolas' diagnosis. I'm guessing that you can tell by my use of the term "supposed" that it isn't happening. The lab work still isn't finished, although they did promise it would be done by the end of the week. Our hematologist works in the city and only spends one day a week in the suburbs, so that means waiting until next Wednesday for our office visit and the results.

I am very disappointed. We have great Congoriffic plans this weekend that we are really looking forward to (and Nic's birthday), and I was really hoping to not have to bring the penicillin along, since it requires a cooler and ice packs, etc, and is a pain. I was also hoping to not bring along the constant cloud of wondering if a small fever will result in a hospital trip, or if an episode of crying portends a sickle crisis. Nic sneezed a few times today, and now I'm frantically praying he won't develop a fever and we won't have to cancel. I know that in the grand scheme of life one week is not that long to wait, but after waiting almost patiently for three months I am ready for some answers.

On a happier note, the postponement has played out well for the kids. Today Jeff is in the city for the full day/evening at a conference so I have been "on" and will be on from wake-up to bedtime, and I am exhausted. This is probably more related to staying up until almost midnight finishing the laundry last night, or perhaps going to the splash park this morning, or having to spend an hour of the boy's too-short nap on the phone with the IRS to get no new information on our tax refund, but on top of all that I found this news extra deflating. Thus, I decided I did not have the energy to go back to the splash park after nap as previously promised, and since I like to keep my promises or offer an alternative perceived as better, the boys got to have their dessert before dinner and Tommy got to watch his new obsession: The Adventures of Robin Hood. Oodelally! I am so thankful we have moved on from Cars, at least for the moment.

Nic's "First" Haircut

2011-07-25T07:03:00.000-05:00

It's his first haircut with us anyway. He's had one other that we know about, when they took his pictures for his passport. Thankfully, they let it grow back after that and when I got to Congo he had the cutest little baby fro. It was very difficult for me to part with his baby curls, but his hair was a crazy mix of baby hair and grown up hair and it was looking a bit too shaggy for court. Thus, we trimmed the little fellow up.

He was not really a fan of the haircut, but he tolerated it.

Nic and Tommy have different levels of curls. Tommy's curls are much tighter, while Nic's are softer and looser. His hair is easier to comb out than Tommy's, so we can keep it a little longer without extra effort.

Before:

After:

Good Hair

2011-07-22T16:11:00.000-05:00

Inches From the Finish Line

2011-07-22T07:25:00.000-05:00

We are almost, almost, almost done with Tommy's adoption paperwork. Wednesday we traveled into the city (yes, twice in one week, completely horrible) to visit USCIS and pick up Tommy's certificate of citizenship. Now the only thing I have left to do is go to Social Security and have Tommy's SS number updated so that he can get a job. Since I don't anticipate anyone officially hiring him anytime soon...or for the next twelve years or so, I will do this after we get Nic's judgement so I can get his card at the same time.

On a side note, let me just say that I was highly disappointed by the certificate of citizenship. Considering how much we paid for that piece of paper I thought it would be much classier, or at least have some awesome holograms or something. Instead it looks like one of those "good job" certificates you can print from your computer using a create-a-card program, except it has a gold seal and says "citizen" instead of "job well done." Seriously, I am embarrassed that this certificate is the best my country can do for newly minted citizens who shell out hundreds of dollars (I think it's up to 7 now) for proof of their status. I wish I could scan it in to show it to you, but I'm pretty sure that you could just take the jpg and counterfeit the certificate with your home printer, because it is that pathetic and terrible looking, and I don't want anyone hijacking Tommy's ID.

Instead, here are some pictures of our favorite American citizen (yes, I can say this because Nic is not a citizen yet):

Keeping cool at the splash park

Getting ready to go out

July 4^th petting zoo look of terror

Nic's Day At Court

2011-07-21T08:36:00.000-05:00

On Monday we drove downtown to attend Nic's US adoption hearing. In our state we have to wait six months to finalize adoptions done overseas when you haven't met the child prior to the completion of the adoption, but you can attend your court hearing early because it takes a few months for everything to be decided after your hearing.

We had an afternoon court date this round, which meant traffic was slightly better driving into the city. We met our attorney, Nic went to the Sheriff to get served, and then we went upstairs to the family court area. The courthouse has a nice play-room for the kids to sit in while you wait, and we waited with two other families who were on the docket that day. The Judge we stood before was very, very nice. She asked us a few questions, admired the boys, and let us go. Tommy was very impressed with the sucker he received on the way out. After she finished hearing cases the Judge took pictures with us, and we went home.

We are one step closer to legally confirming Nic's place in our family. Once the ruling is confirmed it will only be a few more checks and a few more forms (I'm particularly dreading the N-600 and going to SS) and we will be done.

A Sinking Feeling

2011-07-20T20:41:00.007-05:00

Today we got an enigmatic phone call from Nic's nurse coordinator, Vicki. I may be reading too much into it, but after I hung up I had that horrible sinking feeling in my gut. Vicki called to let me know that the hematologist still hasn't called us about Nic's tests because Mayo clinic hasn't provided the results from the final, most definitive test for Nic's condition. She said that the doctor would be calling us as soon as he got the results for that test. I asked if that meant we could cancel next week's appointment to go over the test results, and she checked with the doctor and said we should plan on coming in still.

That sounds benign, right? But here's the rub: while we were in the hospital last week, when the hematologist said that he thinks Nic has sickle/HPFH instead of sickle cell disease, he said that if Nic had HPFH then we could cancel our appointment for next week because he wouldn't need to see us again so soon, as he only has to see patients with sickle cell trait (and HPFH would be similar to trait) infrequently.

Last week he thought Nic had HPFH and didn't need an appointment. This week we got no indication on what the hematologist is thinking, except that he wants us to come for an appointment. In my experience with specialists delivering really awful news about the health of one's child, they tend to like to do it in person. I'm not exactly thrilled that the hematologist wants to sit in an office with me, because in my book that means bad news. Now, I could be paranoid. I could be reading way more into this than I should. I know that, but I can't help but wonder why he has changed his tune about us showing up for the appointment.

This leads me to the real problem with all this - the sinking feeling. When Nic was first diagnosed I feel like we were able to adjust to his diagnosis about as gracefully as possible considering. The hematologist was clear that there was only an outside chance that Nic had something other than sickle cell disease. In my head, that meant that Nic had sickle cell disease. Obviously, I prayed that the diagnosis would be incorrect, but I found that it was easiest for me to cope with the diagnosis if I really believed it. I have full confidence that God placed Nicolas in the care of our family. It was no mistake or coincidence that we were chosen to parent this sweet boy, and if that meant parenting a boy with sickle cell disease, well, then that was our calling. My thoughts were such that when I envisioned our future, it was one where we made serious concessions to sickle cell disease. With a family like ours we are obviously not moving to the sticks anytime soon, but SCD meant taking the proximity and quality of local medical care into a far higher consideration when we think about where we will live. It meant viewing Nic's future in a different perspective, and acknowledging limits on things that our family can do. Honestly, it was highly unlikely that we would ever do any family mountain climbing, for example, but we certainly won't be if Nic has SCD (let me reiterate that for Jeff and me giving up mountain climbing would not be a sacrifice). But more realistically, when I planned our family vacation this year, I made sure to ask about the refund policy of the place we chose to stay, because we might be heading to the ER instead of going on vacation.

When we were getting ready to go to the emergency room last week, and in those first few hours at the hospital, I found myself making a lot of mental notes for "next time." Next time, I would keep a bag ready just for emergency trips, I would make a master list to check off the things we need before we head out the door, I would make a list phone numbers for Nic's medical folder (instead of just grabbing the church directory), I would pack more pjs for Nic and fewer toys, I would think about getting some type of portable computer for long stays (an iPad would be so helpful in the hospital and make a great Christmas present for me and Nic, Mom and Dad;-)), and I would keep some decent freezer meals for Jeff and me to take to the Peds kitchen. One can only live on muffins and Teddy Grahams for so long. I was in SCD mode. I had my head wrapped around it. Then, the hematologist said he might take back the whole SCD diagnosis, and he wasn't saying it was a tiny little chance, he was saying it was a good chance.

When he did that, he gave us hope. Hope that our son might outlive us. Hope that he might not suffer from pain crisis, develop lung issues, and sustain damage to his major organs. Hope that he might be able to participate in any sport or activity that he enjoys. Hope that he might not have to go to the hospital every single time he gets a fever. Hope that we won't have to cart around a cooler with penicillin every time we are away from the house at medicine time. I set aside this hope after Nic's original diagnosis, but I like having it back. I don't want to have to give it up again.

Needless to say, I have felt significantly less sane in these last few hours since that phone call. I'm a bit frustrated by this, because we have made it so far in this wait, and we hopefully have less than a week to go before we meet with the hematologist and get our results, and this has messed up my waiting rhythm. All that to say, please pray for us. The home stretch of this wait is clearly going to be tougher than I anticipated. Add to that the horrendous weather that has kept us inside more than we like to be all week long, and two boys who seem incapable of napping in tandem, and I might be a crazy person by the end of the week.

I Wonder Why They Didn't Just Test Us?

2011-07-19T10:34:00.003-05:00

I found the following paragraph in an article about blood disorders related to Hereditary Persistence of Fetal Hemoglobin, the disorder that we are hoping hoping hoping that Nic has (still no confirmation, the other option from what I can tell is called sickle/b-thalassemia and it is no where near as nice as sickle/HPFH). It explains why we had to wait so long to do his testing...

Sickle/hereditary persistence of fetal hemoglobin
A child who inherits a sickle gene from one parent and an HPFH gene from the other parent will have sickle/HPFH, an asymptomatic condition. This genotype can be misdiagnosed as sickle/beta-thalassemia, a symptomatic condition.

The best way to distinguish the two is to test the parents.

If the parents are not available for testing, retesting the infant at 1 year of age or older is recommended since by then the Hb F will be reduced to the level the child will exhibit as an adult. A child with sickle/b-thalassemia, like all infants with sickle cell disease, requires penicillin prophylaxis. A child with sickle/HPFH will not experience the symptoms of sickle cell disease and penicillin prophylaxis is not required.

I guess Nic's hematologist doesn't think we look alike...

Our Day at the Hospital

2011-07-15T21:30:00.000-05:00

I am quite thankful to admit that I missed all of the very worst parts of the hospital visit. Jeff endured the late night drive to the ER, the barrage of tests, which included blood draws and x-rays, the insertion of an IV (and a urinary catheter!!), and finally admission to the hospital. By the time I arrived both Nic and Jeff were sleeping peacefully and all I had to do for my first two hours was to wake up Jeff and take his spot in the aforementioned uncomfortable sleeping chair, where I distracted myself with my iPod and a book and tried not to notice the cords dangling off Nic's body or the monitors beeping and flashing numbers and displaying wiggly lines.

In the late morning I received a visit from the hematologist that brightened my day and made the rest of our stay much easier. This is when the hematologist told me that the results from last weeks barrage of tests were in and that he was quite hopeful, but not entirely sure, that he would be undiagnosing Nicolas with sickle cell disease, and instead diagnosing him with something closely resembling sickle cell trait (PRAISE GOD). However, until he consults with some more experts and possibly does one more round of tests he does not feel comfortable doing so. Thus, for the time being Nicolas must keep his diagnosis of probable sickle cell disease and maintain all sickle cell disease precautions. Thus, we had to stay in the hospital, but we could do so with a good certainty that whatever Nic was experiencing was not sickle cell related and was probably just a regular childhood virus. After that I was so stinking happy I really didn't mind being in the hospital. Of course the food was bad, and Nic was on so much medication and clearly uncomfortable during his shots, and our room had no windows so it was awful to sit in, but knowing that this visit would probably be our last for a very long time...well, it just wasn't so bad.

It helped that we were at an incredibly nice hospital. The staff that served us was excellent. Our first day nurse was actually transferred down for the day from NICU for one day only and she and I got to talking and it turned out that she had also lost children to a medical condition caused by a recessive gene, so I had a chance to learn about her boys, both of whom she lives each day without. Then I got to talking with the woman who cleaned our rooms, and it turns out that she is from Ghana and that she is hoping to adopt her brother's children and bring them to the US in two or three years. I explained some of the US and IL side of the adoption process to her, and learned about her kids and those that she hopes to bring home. Then we found the kitchen and had some yummy snacks...seriously, they do a very nice job of keeping the kitchen stocked for families. They even had one of those cool pod coffee/tea/hot chocolate machines, so I was super hyped up on caffeine all day. I used my extra energy for good, and Nic and I visited the play room a few times, he rode in a car that I pushed up and down the halls numerous times, and we visited the window often. We also got a visit from a therapy dog and from volunteers with bubbles. Jeff and Tommy brought me dinner and came to play for a while afterward, which gave us something to look forward to when the afternoon got a bit long.

While I would be hard pressed to describe our visit as fun, I could describe it as "fun for a stay in the hospital." Once we got the good news and I stopped feeling particularly concerned about Nic's condition, I was able to spend my time focusing fully on Nicolas - something I haven't been able to do much of lately, since I always have two boys around. I miss having one-on-one time with Nicolas. I still get some with Tommy when Nic naps in the morning, but it is rare that Nic is up for long while Tommy is sleeping. Having an entire day together with just me and Nic was actually quite nice.

Our night in the hospital greatly contrasted with the day. It was a long night with little sleep and no comfort for either of us. But hey, we got to go home first thing in the morning. In fact, the nurse told me it was her earliest/fastest discharge ever. I was highly motivated to leave at that point, because I did not want to have to sleep there again.