The first day together

The new question from Red Letters Campaign is Do you have any tips / advice / suggestions for your “Gotcha Day” for people preparing to travel to pick up their little one. . .This could include things that made your day special, an easier transition at home, etc. Tell us what worked (and what didn’t) for you.

This has been a great opportunity to reflect on that special day almost a year ago, now! (We met David July 20, 2007.) Looking back, here's what I can offer:

• We brought a special bear/blanket from home as a comfort item for him. It had been waiting in his bed for a few months and he's had it with him every day since that first day. It may have smelled like his new home and his new parents.
• We took pictures with him and his care givers--letting them say good-bye and writing down names, as this will be special for him to know, one day. The Ayah you see him with in these pictures nuzzled him and whispered something to him. She smiled a big, brave smile as she handed him back. I put my hands together, bowed and said, "thank you" to the woman who mothered my son until I could.
  
• We tried to keep him warm as he went from no air conditioning to an air conditioned hotel and back out again into the heat. Little jackets were helpful.
  
• We didn't change his clothes right away and I kept his shirt from the orphanage in his bed since I thought it might be a familiar smell for him.
• We were very quiet--especially that first day. We spoke very softly to him and kept all stimulation to a minimum (no tv, music). We knew all the change would be overwhelming and didn't want to add to that.
• We tried to keep his schedule and diet as similar as possible--using local formula and foods. We asked about his schedule, diet and portions when we picked him up. We also asked how they put him to sleep and for some "comforting words" in his first language so we could try to say familiar things to him.
• We decided to call him by his given name while in India and slowly transition to his "new" name after we got to the U.S.
  
• We tried to let him sleep in bed with us or to lay near him when he slept or napped so we could be very responsive when he first woke up since he was probably pretty disoriented. We picked him up and had his bear blanket right there.
• We didn't worry too much about self-soothing behaviors we saw that first week. He would rock on all fours or rock backward while sitting up and bump his back and head against whatever was behind him.
  
• At least one of us tried to sleep when he slept so we could be fresh when he woke up.
• We brought a small container of laundry detergent. We had lots of "blow outs" and spit up as he was adjusting to eating more food. We had our laundry done at the hotels, but still needed to wash some things right away. I threw away a couple of outfits b/c it wasn't worth washing!!
  

Note: he was 10 months old when we got him and I honestly don't know how much of what we did helped or didn't help.

Here are some pictures of those first hours and days.

Our first time to see him:


Meeting Mommy. He loved my necklace.
Meeting Daddy


His Ayah

Daddy and bear on the ride home

He slept a LOT that first week. I loved every second of it!

Have you heard of this?

Sometimes I discover something, think it's amazing and want to tell the whole world and find out I'm the last one to discover it. "Hey, everyone, check out sliced bread!! Have you seen this?"

So my most recent discovery, thanks to my sweet husband, is Pandora Radio. Free, simple. No commercials. You start an account, type in your favorite musician or song and it creates a "radio station" of that artist and similar artists. You hear a song you don't like, click "thumbs down" on that artists' picture and the song stops and won't play again. It's a great way to discover some new artists and listen to whatever you are in the mood for. Amazing.

Red Letters Campaign

This might make me sound old, but I'm still going to say it. The internet age and it's results are truly amazing to me!

I'm part of a forum of families who have adopted chldren from India through Dillion International in 2007. A couple of those women became adoption journalists for an organization called The Red Letters Campaign. Those mothers invited the other mothers to be a part of this and to add their voices to the experience of adopting from India. Wham. I'm part of another circle of people passionate about meaningful care of orphans and widows; about ending poverty; about mobilizing those who are willing to do what we can with the lives and voices and opportunities and resources we've been given.

So, from time to time I'll be blogging about our adoption experience or process. On my first blog entry I mentioned that I am an adoptive mom, but not only an adoptive mom. Do you remember? :) I don't want any one role to completely define me or own me, but I can't deny that our experience and journey is part of who I am. As other families start down this road any and every voice that can aid in the journey is helpful. I know I couldn't get enough of others' insights and thoughts during the times we were processing or waiting. So I hope this helps a little.

Thanks for reading.

Lately

Last week our phone line/internet started acting up. I was effectively disconnected for about 5 days. I didn't know how much I leaned on my access to email and blogs to feel connected. It was a quiet week and by the end loneliness and frustration were creeping in. My neighbor kindly brought over some parenting magazines Thursday as we were trying to escape the house into the yard to play. I started crying. Lovely. The kind of crying where I can't pull it together but don't have an actual reason to cry...See if she brings over anymore magazines. Seriously, it was a seemingly small thing that meant so much in that moment. Our lives are filled with those, aren't they? We can give and receive in ways that mean so much. The key is letting those people know how much they mean. Has someone made you laugh or given you a hug or carried some of the weight in your heart or mind lately? Take a minute to call or email or send a card to let them know.

Here are a few pictures from last week to catch up on the fun.

We made bread. It was perfect. Waking up to the house still smelling like freshly baked bread the next morning was a bonus.

More pictures of the library.

It's a beautiful combination of old and new. I love how the skyline of the surrounding buildings is reflected in this one. I love the view from the front steps. I love living just a few minutes from this place and other beautiful places downtown.

I just started ¨Digging Deep: Unearthing Your Creative Roots Through Gardening¨ by Fran Sorin. It's something that I hope will take me another step in my journey.

Sweet Summer Days

So my big idea for this summer was to take it easy, keep it simple. Minimal driving, minimal spending. I know I need a routine of some kind, so Mondays are "Library and Laundry Day."

The Central Library downtown recently finished remodeling and it is HUGE and stunning. The library is minutes away from our house. We eventually packed a picnic, gathered the troops and a big blanket and headed out. I'll try to take more pictures of the library next time. I was trying to keep David in arm's reach this time. He is an escape artist!

Here are some pics from the picnic and lovely time afterward rolling, running and climbing.

Pack a picnic and join us anytime!

Joy and Spending

Yesterday was a good day--a rainy-stay-inside-day. The girls did word-searches, mazes, lots of playing pretend and art. Carolyn wanted to learn to knit.

She's doing pretty well. She's a pretty patient learner, so that helps.

I also walked around outside during a dry moment when D was sleeping and came upon a broken chair in the alley left for trash. It had some beautiful parts that I want to try to keep and turn into something...we'll see.
To quickly wrap up last month's journey--here's the summary. I first wanted to be careful that the "it's not enough" thought was not some latent religious guilt that can somehow seep into the lives of imperfect people trying to live a life pleasing to a perfect God. I truly don't think that was it. I think that God was trying to call me to more.

Imagine journeying to a stunning range of mountains, standing at the foothills, looking up, saying, "that's nice," and going home. I feel like my life and my role in expressing God's love for all people everywhere--especially the vulnerable and suffering--can either remain an insulated, arm's length experience or I can start to shed all the things that hold me back and start to climb that mountain. To really touch and experience a life in connection with the hurting and provide some kind of meaningful response is what I believe "it's not enough" was saying to me. I shouldn't just stand there, even shed tears or make a small gesture of response where there's so much more I can do.

Isaiah 58 is a sweeping and deeply challenging passage for me. The one phrase that echos in my heart is "...if you will spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry..." Spend myself.

It just happened that at the height of this internal processing, Adam and I had a big discussion on what more we can do to aggressively get out of debt. He was so excited for how much more we could give to the many needs close by and around the world. I gulped hard. I wanted at least some of that extra money for home improvements and to give a little bit of breathing room in our budget...Sure, I want to give, love to give, but I felt that all my sacrificing entitled me to some long-awaited improvements and repairs.

I've also sort of had this reawakening of desire to create--sewing, knitting, photography. This creates another internal battle. Do I spend money and time on these things when there are other pressing needs? How can I justify these things? I live in a culture that says I'm entitled to do what makes me feel good (and those things do make me feel good). Is there more here?

Without a reasonable justification, I tend toward an all or nothing approach to hobbies/art. As in, if it doesn't make money compared to what I'm spending on it or if I'm mediocre at it, then it's not a justifiable use of time/money. Honestly I don't think I buy my own argument in my heart or I wouldn't keep returning to these things, but I return with hesitation and a measure of guilt. That's no fun. :)

This is where I'd love to hear from you. I think there's a meaningful dialogue that can take place if you'd be brave enough to weigh in. Thank you, in advance for your thoughts.

"It's not enough"

Do you remember on Field of Dreams when the voice whispers, "If you build it he will come."? Do you remember the frustrating and agitating experience of the characters as they try to figure out what that means and if they will follow the voice and take some risks or ignore it?

About a month ago I was continuing to ask God the question, "What's next?" and my anticipation was continuing to build...toward what...I didn't know.

The tragedies in Burma/Mayanmar and China really deeply impacted my heart. The injustice and pain of vulnerable people and the deep helplessness I was feeling to respond to their need weighed heavily on me. I remember crying as I was making dinner one night listening to NPR do a story on a mother and father of a nearly 2 year old boy who took the first 2 days after the earthquake to find some kind of equipment to excavate a building. The building was an apartment where the mother had left her son in the arms of his grandparents so she could go to work. 10 minutes later the earth was shaking and the building collapsed on them all. Two days of desperation, determination, holding out impossible hope, fighting the what-ifs that will never stop, literally pushing this huge piece of equipment through the chaotic streets of the city. The mother did what I would do: she climbed up on the building as the machine was working on the walls--trying to get as close as she could to those she loved. They died together trying to get out. All were touching--the grandfather holding the baby, the grandmother's arm on her husband's shoulder. That moment in my safe house with my children alive and playing, my food cooking, my husband on his way home. My life and faith and hope intact. Another woman half way around the world weeping over a loss I can't comprehend. Our tears were mixing as I tried to carry a small fraction of her pain.

The voice: "It's not enough..."
Me: "What?? What does that mean? What's not enough?"

And so it began. I was edgy and unsettled and very quiet and introspective. I was probably not a lot of fun to be around--thankfully my family is gracious.

I try to blog when I have a thought or an experience or picture to share. All month I've had nothing. No pictures. No words.

Clarity is slowly coming. The challenge now is to try to put it into words in some way. I'm still wrestling with that, so I'll try to share with you all in small pieces.

More tomorrow.

Finished!!

Here are the long-awaited curtains! I'm happy with how they turned out and proud of my husband for putting up all the curtain rods within hours of my finishing the last curtain this afternoon. He knows I love being able to see the results as quickly as possible. When I finished the first curtain I took down our bedroom curtains and put the new one up and left it there all night so I could see it over a window...


If you know me well you know that I am not a patient person when it comes to these things. You may also know that I struggle to finish things. I'm great at starting things full of inspiration and good intentions. Many of my good intentions are piled in corners and closets gathering dust. So this fabric purchased so long ago and joked about from time to time is now on the windows. I'm thankful and looking forward to some new projects this summer. I'll keep you posted.

You may have noticed it's been about a month since my last post...Where have I been for the last month? I'll tell you tomorrow...