Day 30

Day 30. Wish I knew

In the early hours of the morning, my daughter woke up in her cozy, warm bed, in the room she shares with her brothers who love her deeply (even if they pester each other most of the day). She awoke with a yelp, and immediately began to kick the walls and the edges of her bed. She yelled out in anger as she continued to pummel the walls. As her daddy and I hurried to get her settled down before the whole house was up at an ungodly hour, I remembered that today is exactly two years from when she was woken early in the morning, driven hours in a car, and carried into a government office in the big city. She was sniffling with a cold and from the cold and abruptly placed into my arms- all 20 lbs of her three year old self. She wrenched her eyes shut and pushed her body as far away from be as she could- angry and terrified. The next few weeks, she scowled, cried, screamed, and glared at me- the one who took her away from everything she had ever known.Hearts have changed in these two years, she is not the same angry child that we met two years ago. As I am flooded with facebook memories and reminders of those early days, I wish I knew a lot of things that I know now. And I’m thankful I didn’t know some of the things I know now too. I wish I knew that her hatred of me was truly temporary. I’m thankful for the middle of the night, tear-soaked pillow case prayers where I came to understand the gravity of saying yes to adoption. That even if *she* never accepted me as mom, that’s what God had chosen for me and I would continue to offer my heart to her irregardless. I needed that chance to face the worse case scenario and choose one way or another, but it would have been nice to know that somehow things would turn out ok. I wish I had the confidence in those dark, early days that the life we had given our daughter was truly better despite the seemingly insurmountable grief she experienced. I wish I knew that the rages, anger, and grief were not directed at me. I wish I knew to invest in noise cancelling headphones much sooner. I wish I knew just how awesome our kids at home would handle everything. How they have turned into truly amazing little souls who care about others and emphasize with kids who are different than themselves. I wish I listened to experienced adoptive moms who warned me that adding a child through adoption would refine me-but that it would be painful. I wish I knew that God would break me, piece me back together, but that He wouldn’t necessarily smooth out all the rough edges or fill all the cracks. I wish I discovered and accepted much sooner how beautiful cracks and rough edges can be. And I wish I could have seen just a glimpse during those truly hard moments of beautiful our family would turn out to be. Family photos may never catch all of us smiling at the same time but they show the love we have for each other and the awe we still possess that God used our one small yes to create something so amazing.

Day 29

Day 29. Best Resource

I am a HUGE advocate for being trauma informed and specifically being trained in Trust Based Relational Intervention as an adoptive parent. If you’ve never heard of these things, go now! Look up Karen Purvis, read The Connected Child, thank me later.

But when thinking of the best resource, I keep coming back to each other. We are each other’s best resource. The adoptive parents who have answered my questions, listened to my rants, given encouragement at the exact right time in the exact right way- you just can’t get that from a book or even a therapist. It is crowd sourcing at its best-especially if you join the online adoption community. And I’d like to expand that to include other parents- those who have experience in the world of special needs but may not have adopted. There aren’t classes or books out there on how to go to an IEP meeting or how to handle your child’s unique strain of developmental trauma. But there are other parents who are walking the same line and I’ve found the best resources to come from these fellow travelers. I can’t imagine going into adoption or special needs parenting without a community. I do imagine those who choose solitude don’t fare very well. We need each other. The help I’ve received has spurred on a desire to give back and pay it forward in any way I can. It’s a big motivator for my participation in this month long writing challenge. If through one of my posts, one person is encouraged that they are not alone in this journey, then I will count that as a great success.

I love receiving Facebook messages and emails from parents just starting their adoption journey or newly home. I love meeting these souls face to face even more at conferences and meet ups. And I have a cherished tribe of moms with whom I text/message/cry/laugh/etc with that just *get it.* I am so much more richer for the friends I’ve made since bringing our daughter home and I am forever grateful for this treasure of a resource we have in each other. Need a friend? Send me a message!

#knittogetherbyadoption #wecouldhavemissedthis#NationalAdoptionMonth

Day 27

Day 27-Myth

"Love is all you need"

If only that were true... While we could slice and dice words to define love here to make that statement true, let me just speak from my experience that what I thought was love, was not enough. Not enough to heal, not enough to connect, not enough to make everything OK. There were big, blaringly obvious things like feeding therapy and doctor appointments, speech pathologists, and an IEP team... And many of them do their job in love and I suppose as Mila's parent advocating for her, you could say that was love. But planning extra cuddles and never forgetting good night kisses couldn't replace my daughter needing an OT to help her overcome feeding challenges. Or weekly speech therapy appointments.

Even without the obvious things, I quickly came to the realization that my love alone would not connect her to our family or heal her hurts. And even if it could, there were many times where my love simply ran out. One can only take being hit with a shoe while driving so many times before a little resentment creeps in.

The mantra that gets repeated is 'fake it til you make it.' I love/hate this. I love it because it recognizes that having loving feelings toward your new child is not always instant and unconditional. If you're an adoptive parent reading this and struggling with So. Much. Guilt - you are not alone. It will get better. But the 'it' might be different than you think. Through my 'faking it til I make it' journey I've realized that I suddenly didn't wake up with lovey dovey feelings for my new daughter but that my perspective on love had changed significantly. I do love her. Deeply and fiercely. And I struggle with her behaviors and personality a lot. My struggle has highlighted my need for God's grace and forgiveness in my own life-which makes it more natural to extend that to my daughter... And love her in that way. So my adoption myth is that My love is not all she needs... My love falls short every time and pales in comparison to the grandiose love of our good Father who heals and redeems. That's what she needs and really, that's what we all need.

Day 25

Day 25. Breathing

Breathe in.
The noise, the hurt, the hard.
Breathe out.
You're safe, I'm here, I want to help. Breathe in.
The fear, the confusion, can she trust us? Breathe out.
We’re here together, let me help you. Breathe in.
Listen to those breaths, feel the weight of your body down through your feet, can you count to ten?
Breathe out.
That's right, come back to me, we can be calm together.

We breathe in and out, I'll trade my calm for your chaos and one day, we will both be the better for it. But for now, one breathe at a time.

Day 24

Day 24 Failures

Mom Fail! Letting your tiny daughter ride her balance bike down a hill at full speed, knowing full well she is the baby version of Evel Knievel without the high success landing rate. I've had a lot of mom fails and failures in general…but I guess we all have. We practice Connected Parenting with our kids-for the hope it offers to kids with a trauma background and the outcomes we've experienced first hand. And while we are intentional and try really hard to be attuned to our kids needs, especially when they are experiencing big feelings, we still fail some times. They say securely attached children have parents who are attuned to their needs 33% of the time. That apparently is ‘good enough.’ And while the overachiever in me never wants to settle for being a good enough parent, this number gives me a lot of comfort. I fail. A lot. Maybe even 2/3rds of the time. The key component to surviving this failure rate is what they call rupture and repair. We, the parents, are triggered, lose control, and don't respond how we should in the moment. But we have a second chance to repair what has been broken and reconnect with our child. More actual benefit comes to the relationship from rupture and repair than from never rupturing in the first place. Connected Parenting has the science to back all this up but I also have a track record with the King of second chances. Isn't that the hope of redemption? Countless second chances we've been given at the cross. My relationship with the God of creation is filled with my failures blocking the way. But through the redemption of the cross I am restored and reconnected. What a reminder we are given as we strive to connect with our children and experience failure - theirs or our own-that amazing grace is offered- how sweet the sound!

Day 23

Day 23-Holidays

We are quickly approaching the anniversary of our adoption day. My husband and I boarded a plane early on Thanksgiving morning two years ago and returned home a few weeks before Christmas with a new child. The holidays that year were different than years past but precious. And I'm sure partly remembered through a rose-colored, jet-lagged haze. I will always remember picking out our Christmas tree as the first time my little girl reached for my hand. And the photos of our kiddos unwrapping their presents that year - though there was nothing extravagant in the gifts themselves, scream abundance and grace-our whole family under one roof finally.

And this year as we've gotten a taste of the dreaded ‘traumaversary’-the increase in trauma-driven behaviors around a certain date or holiday (or in our case, both)-we are faced with a choice. We can muscle our way through, leaving a destructive path of anger, hurt feelings, and possibly more trauma as we attempt to make it on our own. Or we can remember that abundance and grace of our first holiday together as a family. And in the remembering, cultivate hearts of gratitude for the fact that we get to do this together. God has woven our family together, purposefully and with intention. He has equipped us especially for this work and yet He has called us to places of deeper dependency on Him to do it. I am forever in awe of the good things our God has done and is doing in our lived - so many of them because of adoption. This Thanksgiving I am pausing to be grateful for this 'grace' work - and the little people He uses to change me into who He intended.

Day 17

Day 17. Needs

I was sure this post was going to be about special needs, IEPs, and how to survive unreasonable expectations of your kid. And then I attended ‘Indian Day’ with my daughter’s TK class and watched her hold her friend’s hand as they moved between centers, learning about buffalos and grinding corn. She stayed with her class, participated in all the activities, sampled the cranberry sauce- all without an aid and with minimal redirection. I was very proud. And then we got home and the morning caught up to us. She worked so hard following directions, staying in control of her body and brain, and being a good student that as soon as she came HOME, she fell apart. I won’t go into the specifics of what that looks like for her privacy, but this is one of her- and I dare say many kids with trauma- greatest needs. The ability to cope with stressful situations (even good situations that are different or exciting can still be stressful) and self regulate when her brain or body seems to be going out of control.

I am no expert on this. But I am becoming an expert on what helps my daughter. If you’ve been following along, you might recall that we are going through a tricky ‘traumaversary’ right now and dealing with defiant behaviors and ramped up emotions surrounding the anniversary of my daughter’s adoption. Today, as she fell apart after a very fun and over stimulating morning I knew I had to put away my frustration and exasperation to help her through this. But my presence lately is triggering even more escalation in her. So we had a talk- “I want to help you. When you can, please tell me what you need right now.” This conversation looked completely one-sided and maybe she couldn’t hear me, but I said it for me, as a reminder that it was MY job right now to help her ‘co regulate’ and meet her needs. And I knew what she needed- I just wasn’t sure she was in a place to accept it from me. After a few minutes and a little space, she sat in our hallway-not yelling. That was my cue. I brought her a water bottle, a small peanut butter sandwich, and some sensory toys. And I backed away slowly. And a few minutes later, she carried her treasures over to me and began to play quietly.

Her needs may look differently than other kids. Today it looked like hydration, protein, and a heavy bag of colored rocks to sort out. Her need was physical- hunger and thirst- but also emotional. The weight of the rocks provided heavy sensory input, sorting them allowed her rational brain to engage and start working again.

Our kids are like puzzles. Especially our kids without a great start to life. It’s our job as the parent to piece these puzzles together as best we can. Need meeting builds trust. Trust builds attachment. Attachment is fundamental to health- physical, mental, and spiritual. Meet the need, find a way.#knittogetherbyadoption #wecouldhavemissedthis#NationalAdoptionMonth

Day 16

Day 16. Attach

It’s never been easy, natural, or instinctual. Our attachment was hard -fought and hard work from the get go. Perhaps it was the steady stream of female caregivers in her life that made her distrustful of me. Or maybe the way her good-intentioned nannies pushed her into my arms and snuck out of the room on our first afternoon together-never to be seen again-that made her pinch her eyes shut and begin to wail. For nearly two solid weeks I tried every attachment trick-I offered food, candy, bottles. I brought out toys and technology. I was the ‘fun one’ but to no avail. I tried ‘wearing’ her, pushing the stroller, quietly trying to engage her in play. And my efforts were met with rejection, tears, and even outright scorn. And then one day after we returned home, she leaned back against me and slyly climbed into my lap while I was holding her brother. That night, we were at Home Depot picking out a last minute Christmas tree and she grabbed my hand in her tiny fingers and flashed an impish grin up at me. She took the first step toward trust and slowly a crack began to appear in her walled off heart.

This month marks two years from that day we met in the civil affairs office in China. That scared little girl is confident of her place in our family and declared to me today that she is “strong, stronger and stronger.” And she’s absolutely right. But as that anniversary creeps closer, little uncertainties arise. I say yes, she says no. I ask her to come, she pretends not to hear. These small acts of defiance are the push and pull of the attachment dance that we do, especially when her internal clock begins to chime. She pushes me away and I have a choice-throw up my arms in frustration or get angry and push back-or- draw in close. Only one of those choices brings about the outcome we both truly need and desire. And it’s the harder choice in the moment but ultimately so worth it. Because she’s worth it and that will be my life long goal- to show her that she’s wanted and belongs.

Day 15

Day 15. Waiting

Waiting on my own heart to change. There are probably plenty of posts today on waiting for a referral or waiting for immigration or waiting for another country’s process to move along. I think some of that waiting helped prepare my heart for the wait to come once she was home. And I’m not sure I’m waiting on my heart or waiting on God to change/heal/transform my heart. We got home and sank into turmoil for almost a year. Then things started to look a little brighter and we moved into a dangerous place of hoping. Hope can be healing and hope in the right things is life-giving. But what do you do when you are unsure of the place you set your hope? Where is the line drawn between hoping for the best and preparing for the worst? When does reality finally crash down? I’ve carefully mentally gone through this- examining my expectations of my life, my daughter, of her future. I’ve looked at those expectations and held them up the truth of God’s word. I know in Whom I place my hope and I know the promises that He makes. And I know I can trust those. And yet… I find myself in a place of waiting for my heart to catch up to what I know in my head and for my actions and my outlook to reflect the reality that I’m in. And sadly a lot of that reality is unknown. Will she ever overcome some of this trauma? Will she catch up academically? Will our relationship ever be ‘normal?’ I’m waiting for answers and hoping for outcomes. Praying for healing and working so, so hard for safety and health for everyone in my home. And at the same time, I know that God is in control and that none of this is a surprise to Him. So I wait for my heart to catch up. And in some ways it is caught up. Despite the unease and the unknown of this life, the very thing that makes my head spin and attempt to rationalize away, my heart yearns to bring another one home. Somewhere, this hope is taking root.

“And I am sure that God who began the good work within you will keep right on helping you grow in his grace until his task within you is finally finished on that day when Jesus Christ returns.” Philippians 1:6

Day 14

Day 14. My Squad

We are fortunate and very blessed to have had supportive family, friends, and a church body rally around us when we announced our adoption plans. Even with this excellent cheering squad, I knew I needed something more in terms of support. During our wait, I stumbled upon the amazing China adoption community on Facebook. Suddenly I found people who had walked the same path, had insights and knowledge to share, and were eager to answer questions and encourage a newbie. And one way I was encouraged was to find real life community to walk beside me when we brought our daughter home. I had a few close friends who were adoptive mamas but I was looking for an organized group somewhere- anywhere- within driving distance. My search yielded nothing. There were no support groups, mom meet ups, church ministries that I could find. So I started some. I recruited help and started a facebook group for families in our area. We launched a support group at our church which is slowly growing into several groups and a wrap around ministry. And I started organizing moms night outs- anyone, anywhere along the adoption journey was welcome to meet up at a local restaurant or coffee shop to build community. My squad was forming. I now had my virtual community and my real life people and sometimes those two intersected. I discovered adoptive parent retreats- Created for Care, Refresh, and Tapestry are some that come to mind. I try to attend at least one a year now. And this past fall we hosted our own adoptive mom retreat- one night away in the mountains to connect, rest, and build community. We need each other. This life is challenging, isolating, and just plain absurd at times. And it helps to know there are others who understand your successes and failures. My squad is diverse, virtual and real life, church- based and secular, young and old. But we are all knit together by adoption ;)

Day 13

Day 13. Different

I actually laughed out loud at this… And then realized how true it is! Not that being funny is the most important thing, but a good sense of humor certainly can take you a long way. My kids were young when we first adopted. My thoughtful oldest is the kid who self-censor; intense moments in cartoons are deemed ‘too scary’ and he removes himself from them. My youngest was just really young when we brought his sister home. A mama wants to protect her babies. But the reality is that I haven’t been able to ‘protect’ them from some of the hard things Adoption has brought to our home. And ultimately facing these hard things have been good for my babies. The way my kids have experienced life and faced challenges is vastly different than what I would have chosen...but it’s built character and chipped away a little selfishness along the way.

It’s common to hear my kids tell each other to use the ‘magic moustache’ when their brain starts getting out of control. They reference needing fidgets, using weighted blankets, and sniffing and cooling soup to calm their bodies. They have become mindful of themselves and of others around them. And they are empathetic now to those who struggle to self regulate. I never could have pictured this being the result of adopting our daughter. The lingo, the conversations, the tools and the parenting are so, so different than I ever envisioned. Somehow, somewhere along the way we have normalized ‘different’ and we are better for it.

Day 12

12. Facts
-Meet the family behind Christmas Tree Face- Austin, Anna (dad and mom), Corbin, Mila, and Leo. And a faithful but pitiful dog named Nora. And sometimes we post pics of the quail, some of them are named, most are not. 
-Before Austin and I were married, we worked in Romanian orphanages with my parents’ non profit. In fact, we thought we would one day move to Romania and run a camp for abandoned children. God had a different story in mind (at least for now) but that was where the desire to care for marginalized kids was born.
-I, (Anna) always wanted to adopt. I didn't always want to have children biologically. Pregnancy- ew.
-Working with abandoned kids, having a long, strong desire to be adoptive parents, and reading everything on the topic was great preparation but actually parenting a child from a hard place rocked our world. Still rocks it. We do the best we can and fall on our knees a lot- asking for God’s grace in our lives and protection in our children’s lives for the dumb things their parents do at times.
-I’m ready for adoption number 2, 3, or 6… Austin is not there yet. I’m simultaneously annoyed that he isn’t there and filled with relief. Because it’s hard man.
-Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it isn’t good.
-And we can do hard things.
-Therefore, I think we are ready for #2 ;)
-We love that the church gets a special call to action to care for marginalized children. We both are very blessed to be in an orphan care ministry at our local church and desire to see it grow and reach many, many families who are waiting to bring their little ones home, struggling with life in the trenches, or who desire to support these families.
-Reflecting on these topics this month has been rather therapeutic for me. I hope that no one takes my ramblings as any sort of rule or best practice- like I said, we try, we fail, we ask for grace and forgiveness and try again. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that adoption reveals our greatest weaknesses and can refine them into our greatest blessings if we allow God to work.

Day 11

Day 11- Siblings

I could write pages on this topic. We basically turned the world upside down for three very young children when we adopted two years ago. Our boys were close knit- only two years apart and each other’s best friend. And we had the audacity to sandwich a sister inbetween them. Here’s the very short story- Bringing a new child home - an instant sibling- is hard. Like I said, the world turned upside down and there were some bad things that happened. We hunkered down in our trench and slowly life began to right itself. Which is to say, we worked really, really hard to meet our kids’ needs, teach life lessons, and help everyone adjust, and by God’s grace we have three pretty spectacular kids who really do love each other. Adoption will affect your kids at home. They will not escape unscarred. But again, my common theme this month, God heals the broken hearted and binds their wounds. Scars fade but they serve as reminders of how He provided healing. My kids are now ages 6-5-4. The 5 and 4 year olds are only 10 months apart and are our ‘twins.’ My oldest recently told me that he’s ready for another sister so he can have a twin too ;) These sibling relationships that have been formed through adoption are one of my greatest joys in this journey.

Day 10

Day 10- Name change

The name we chose for our daughter was our first gift to her. It was the first symbol of being part of our family. Her new name was not a denial of her old name, her life before us, her first family. Those things are real and still exist at least in memories and we will honor those on behalf of our daughter. Her new name represents her place in our family- as an equal to our biological children. It represents her place in our lineage, via adoption- she is linked to all the women in my family with a common middle name. And her name represents our hopes and wishes for her. These are very specific to Mila and the journey God took us on to her. Mila means ‘mercy.’ Here's how I introduced her new name two years ago:

Our love for Mila- despite the physical distance between us- serves of a reminder of our Heavenly Father's deep love for us. Irregardless of what we do or don't do, what we can physically or mentally handle, we are loved because we are His. His mercy extends through the darkness of our lostness, and triumphs. We will forever be grateful for the beautiful picture of God's great mercy to us that our daughter has illuminated in our journey to her. Mila means mercy in Romanian- a language that will always hold a special place in our hearts for the precious faces that led us to say yes to adoption.

Still true today.

Day 9

Day 9- Culture Continued

The humid air, the scent of five spice faintly (or not so faintly) ever present, the honking, the throngs of humanity. The wild countryside smashed up against towering skyscrapers. Motor bikes stacked to the moon with crates and newspapers and weaving in and out of traffic, grandparents dutifully pushing their bundled grandbabies down the sidewalk. Sizzling street food, herbal medicine shops and tea stands bustling in the morning. When we started our adoption, I fell in love with a little face I had not met yet. When we arrived in China and stepped out of the Guangzhou Central Train Station, I fell in love with a country at first sight. Our time in China was overwhelming and hard- maybe one of the hardest times of my life- but the longer we were there, the more my heart beat for this exotic land steeped in culture and traditions and the beautiful people we saw each day. God gave us a precious gift by instilling in us a love for Chinese culture and country. We don’t embrace the food and holidays perfectly by any means, but we do it enthusiastically. And in turn, I think we are giving our daughter a gift by genuinely loving her birth culture. And I can’t wait for us to journey back to China as a family and experience that amazing place together.

Day 8

Day 8. Birthfamily

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Mila’s birth family. This is a pretty weird phenomenon for people we will likely never meet nor know anything about. Chinese special needs adoptions have zero birth history, no names of biological relatives, no medical histories, nothing, Some days it's blatant- I'm filling out forms at a doctor’s office and have to cross through pages of unanswered questions. “No known birth history.” Or days like Mother's Day when I am reflecting on my own title of ‘Mom’- it's really hard to not think of a missing mom that is represented by one of my children. Other days, I have passing thoughts of Mila’s birth family. She might do something quirky that makes me wonder if somewhere deep inside of her body, a gene sequence from her biological family is making itself known. Or as I struggle to pull her hair straight back but because of the odd shape of her head I end up with a lumpy ponytail… and I wonder if her mom or dad had similar problems. And some days I don't think very kindly of her birth family if I'm being honest. There has been nothing to indicate that Mila’s struggles stem from anything other than trauma and neglect. They might, but as of yet there are no definitive diagnosis or indicators. Which means in one version of this universe (if I were to go all Marvel comics on you), if her birth family had kept her, Mila wouldn't HAVE any of the challenges she deals with. She wouldn't have been abandoned. She wouldn't have spent formative years in an institution, receiving just enough care to survive but certainly not enough nurture to naturally form healthy attachments and develop the neuropathways to self regulate and ‘deal’ with life. She would have her native culture and country and wouldn't have faced the trauma that adoption brought to her. She wouldn't have me and I wouldn't have her. And the anger towards her birthfamily gets suddenly very complex and very real and sometimes theological if I'm in the right mood. I don't know the circumstances surrounding my daughter’s abandonment. I have never faced a scenario where leaving my child- and walking away forever- was a viable option. My anger is ultimately directed not at an unknown individual but at the unknown situation that brought about such a dire circumstance, and ultimately at the ‘fallenness’ that exists on earth. Here's what I know. Mila’s biological parents could have chosen to terminate the pregnancy. They could have chosen infanticide. Both of these are sadly common in rural China. Instead she was left somewhere safe, where it was guaranteed she would be found. I can choose gratitude for them for these reasons. My feelings towards her birth parents are mine- they are not hers. As of this moment, Mila has not brought up her first family or truly demonstrated an understanding of their existence even. But if and when she does,I am thankful to have had this time to process my own feelings so that I can walk with her through her own complex thoughts. I want her to know that she has always been wanted. And that we are forever grateful that she is in our family. We can't know the who and the how and the why of Mila’s beginnings but we can recognize that life is not often very neat and tidy. There are hard choices and bad choices and a whole lot of brokenness and ashes. But we follow a God who is in the business of making beauty from ashes.

Day 7

Day 7-Advice

Best advice I received early on while we were 'paper chasing' - keep your eyes wide open. Now, this phrase is often used in adoption circles about not going into adoption with rose-colored glasses. Which is also REALLY good advice. But in this case, keeping my eyes wide open was about not wishing away the place I was currently in and looking for how God was moving. There were definitely times during our wait when my tendancy was to wish away the stage we were in- the long waits on immigration, the slow communication with a foreign orphanage. Those agonizing waits were punctuated with answered prayers, surprise blessings, and other memories of God showing His power as He wrote our adoption story. This advice continued to impact me when we returned home and found ourselves 'in the trenches.' There have been some hard moments that I would not like to repeat...and certainly during those times I longed for easier days. But again, through friends' encouragement, perfectly timed sermons, Facebook connections, podcasts, you name it- I have witnessed God moving in the lives of my family members and in my own life as well. Having your child evaluated for developmental delays is hard. Having a member of the IEP team reach across the table to grasp your hand and say, "your daughter is amazing-you should be so proud" is God reminding me why we started this crazy life. Fighting with insurance for speech therapy is hard. Finding out your speech path goes to your church and knows of your family and just loves your kid is a glimpse of the good gifts our Father has for us. Day in and day out with trauma is really, really hard. But having my little girl, still sniffling from a rage, climb into my lap on her own and say, "sorry mama I mad" is progress and cause for celebration that God redeems.
Keep your eyes wide open-you don't want to miss these gifts, these milestones.

Day 6

Day 6-Support

As an adoptive parent, the support we had during our adoption and immediately after returning home is a very precious gift that continues to touch my heart to this day. The friends and family that prayed for us, gave financially, sorted garage sale donations, and sent encouraging notes are so dear to me. Upon returning home, the house filled with meals, new toys for kids, errands completed for us, and the shared joy of our newest addition continued to be such a blessing. And we know that not every adoptive family receives such generous and loving support and it makes me all the more thankful for that tribe that surrounded us.

Support looks different now. A few close friends have chosen to stay near to us as we wade through the messiness of adoption. They have received a front row seat to trauma and orphanage behaviors and their toll on a family. Yet they have remained. And that support is invaluable. There are BTDT adoptive and special needs mamas who have offered a brave “me too” when I’ve had a moment of courage to ask for help or solidarity. And these ladies’ “me toos” brings more strength than I even imagined possible. The friends who accept our kids as they are and see them as precious regardless of what attitude they are currently wearing is soul-lifting. And the friend that says “This is really hard. I have wine.” and is willing to laugh at the absurdity and cry at the brokenness moments apart is the kind of support that I will always cherish.

And support has a new meaning for my kiddo too. Its the teachers, the therapists, the speech pathologists, the resource specialists, the sunday school teachers, and the countless other individuals who choose to interact with my family in kindness and compassion. When they show me they truly care and love my daughter and want the best for her- what more could I ask for. We don’t always see eye to eye, yet I try to appreciate the work that they do and the love that they bring to the table.

My take away from this post is that there are lots of ways to be involved in orphan care- and playing a support role can have a greater impact than you might ever be aware of. Maybe foster care or adoption isn’t the path God has called your family on. But I bet there are adoptive families in your circle that you could reach out to. Bring food, or wine. Coffee is always good too. Look their children in the eye, overlook their behavior, and smile at them. Don’t assume the outside appearance is true- there may be a child or a mama or a sibling who is dangling by a string and could really use a friend. And you could probably spare a moment of kindness and start a ripple effect of hope and strength for a new day.

Day 5

Then and Now (me)- Day 5

This is a hard one to write. Not because there hasn’t been changes but because there have been so many of them. There’s the gray hairs and the extra wrinkles. There’s the redirection of finances, the new ways I spend my time and energy. But maybe the most significant change in me has been the collapse of any semblance of togetherness I once thought I had. 

Adoption has brought me to my knees- and then onto my face- more times than I care to recall. I am continually reminded of my own selfishness and sinfulness and ever present need for a Savior. Adoption is a redemptive picture. Living within that picture has a way of making oneself very aware of all the ways they fall short and fail. And the amount of intentionality and grace needed to parent a child from a hard place reminds me daily- no really, every moment- that I need Jesus and I need Him bad. I suppose pre-adoption Anna knew this all in her head… post-adoption Anna has experienced that need in a very real way. The road to learning this lesson has been painful and hard but I never want to go back to the way things were before. I can do nothing of my own strength and expect things to turn out ok. But in acknowledging my neediness- my brokenness and messiness- there is a freedom to live in the moment and appreciate the moments. 

Day 3

Who Should Care

I started today's thoughts a few days ago… I felt a little heavy handed and preachy. And I am in one sense… who should care? Everyone. Children needing homes is a human crisis. If you are breathing, the fact that little ones go to bed cold, hungry, and alone should cause your heart to break. And if you're a Christian, then I have lots of words for you about caring for the marginalized. It's not a calling, it's a characteristic of a true believer. My faith compels me action- my supposed search for a calling or a purpose for my life is merely a facade, hiding my fear, doubt, or even disobedience. If you love Jesus, you should be active in relieving the ‘orphan crisis.’ Adopt, foster, support families that do. Mentor a foster child, financial support family preservation ministries, fund surgeries for orphans.

I wrote these words from the waiting room of the OR. My daughter is having a minor medical procedure but it is her first to our knowledge. She's charming and silly unless she's in a surly mood (she was in both this morning by the way). But when I lifted her onto the operating table and all the nurses and techs in masks moved into her vision, I saw a flash of panic in her eyes. Oxygen mask was held on, blood pressure cuff, pulse ox strapped on, and strong arms held her tiny body down as the anesthesia began to flow into her body. That fear became more evident until her tiny arm flung out in my direction and I grasped her fingers in my hand. Our eyes met and she remembered she was not alone.

No child should have to face life alone. If you need a personalized reason for why you should care, then look at a before and after photo of #mightymila … before a family and after a family. We are not miracle workers but our God is. He has restored joy to a child by providing a family. Mila will never have to face a scary hospital visit by herself. She will never have to wonder who will take care of her when she is sick. She will never face an uncertain future all alone. If this can be part of our family’s story, it can be a part of yours too. Who should care? We all should.

Day 2

Small Picture- day 2

Early trauma has shaped my little girl’s brain. She faces the world with eyes that search for danger and behaviors that seek to control and self preserve. She pushes away those who love her most. But things are slowly changing. Repetition, reassurance, intentionality in every single thing is slowly doing the work of rewiring her brain and teaching safety, acceptance, security. I cling to the small things. The tiniest signs of hope, of change, of healing. Her bigger differences- the ones strangers can notice- are so insignificant in light of these hidden things. Yes she can eat solid food now. And yes, she can say that word correctly. We celebrate those too. But let's zoom in on the microscopic picture- when she uses her words to tell me that her brother is making her mad instead of retreating inside herself and screaming. When she willingly walks into school, repeating the story that mama always picks her up. It's when she seeks out comfort when hurt rather than seething in anger. The smallest details- the day I peeked into her classroom and saw her calmly interacting with her classmates- give me hints at the minute work going on inside of her head and give me the greatest cause for celebration! She is safe- she can turn off the hypervigilence for a moment. She belongs- someone will comfort her and kiss her owies. She is loved- she is not being sent away for expressing her anger. The small picture is our hidden picture. The mystery of how love and grace can heal the most broken among us.

Knit Together By Adoption- Day 1

Big picture

I’m participated in a daily writing prompt by #knittogetherbyadoption for the month of November. The big picture of our adoption could be #oneless orphan- one little girl living in a rural orphanage in China being plucked among the thousands of children, each deserving the love of a family. We uprooted her world- yes for something better- but still brought about much trauma and grief for such a tiny little thing. She came to us with hollow eyes, a whisper of theperson she would become. Within days, life was beginning to peek out- her easy grin and adorable dimples would flash at her daddy. Her eyes slowly sparkled as she began to accept the idea of permanent. She was safe. She was loved. She belonged. The big picture is a life changed forever. Don’t get me wrong- while her resting face is now one of peace and contentment and belonging, there are still moments of uncertainty. Three years of being adrift and unknown take a long time to undo. Her eyes grow distant and she slips away from me. Our true big picture is that we will work every day for the rest of our lives to prove to her that she is loved, chosen, wanted. She may push back against that every day for the rest of hers but we will, by God’s grace, remain steadfast in this endeavor. And another glimpse of the big picture is that there are hundreds of thousands of children, just like her who are waiting for someone to choose them. Adoption is not easy work but it is the most worthwhile. Redemption - even when it is merely a shadow of God’s greater redemption- is always breathtaking. The beauty and the broken, so complexly intertwined.