The Question of Schooling:part 2

I thought my next post on this subject would be to move on to private, Christian school, but I have a few more thoughts on public education that I wanted to mention.

I was considered a "gifted and talented" student in my public school.  I excelled in all subjects but Math.  I was an above average, but not "gifted" Math student.  The public school system was not set up to accommodate a student such as myself.  You were either gifted in all subjects or you were gifted in none. Despite my A's in all the other classes, I couldn't keep up in Math and was moved into lower level classes across the board. My parents pleaded with the administration to allow me to be moved into a slower paced Math course while still being permitted to explore my giftedness in English and History. No, they could not make the schedule work. I was moved to all average classes, where I was so ridiculously bored that I could barely stay awake most days. 

And finally there is the is issue of the secular humanist indoctrination going on in public schools.  I remember the first teacher to blatantly mock Christianity.  I remember learning evolution, while the teacher threw in jokes about Creationism. I remember not having the confidence at 12 years old to raise my hand and stand up to my teacher.  And I remember watching as another student did, and was utterly humiliated by that teacher.

I understand that these were just one person's experiences in the public school system. Another student, in another time or another place may not have faced the challenges that I did. But these are my experiences, and I carry them with me into my decision making regarding my children's education. 

The Question of Schooling: part 1

There are several big questions that hang out in my head all the time as of late.  How we will school our children is a big one. Homeschooling is the choice of most of my friends and seems to be the most obvious choice for us. And yet, I really don't want to homeschool. And so I wrestle with my options...
 
OPTION 1: Public School

Someone recently suggested to me that Christians do not send their children to public school out of fear.  I have had to chew on this idea for awhile.  Does fear keep public school from being a viable option for me?  I attended public school first through ninth grades.  I went to "good public schools" in "good neighborhoods".  For the most part I enjoyed my teachers, got good grades and made good friends.  My parents tried to make sure my friends were "good kids" which wasn't hard because I was a "good girl."   Here's the problem: much of my innocence was stolen and there is little if anything my parents could've done to stop it.

By the end of the second grade I could give you detailed descriptions of various sex acts. Second grade! Seven years old! Some older boys on the bus found it hilarious to tell the little girls all kinds of raunchy details. Another little boy would run up to me on the playground at recess and blurt out something he had seen in his dad's porn collection. I suppose my parents could've driven me to school and asked my teacher to not allow me to go on the playground with the other kids at recess, but since this wasn't really a reasonable option, a lot of my innocence was lost just as a matter of course.

Fast forward to middle school. I was student body vice president and had more friends than I could count.  Sure I knew who smoked, drank, did drugs, had sex, but it wasn't any of my closest friends. Sure there was pressure. All the cool girls were supposed to make it around third base by the end of eighth grade, but there were enough of us who didn't, that I didn't stand out too much.

By the time I left after my freshman year of High School, I had almost no friends. Because all the "good girls" who I had been friends with since first grade, were now going to the cool parties with drinking and drugs, and trading tales about their "first time".  I had nothing in common with any of my lifelong friends anymore. In my high school of 1600 kids, I knew of about two dozen Christians and the 4 or 5 that hadn't cashed in their faith, didn't share any classes or a lunch period with me. I took my stand and stood firm.  I wasn't dating non-Christians, I wasn't going to go to parties with drinking or drugs. I even tried to share my faith. And I was totally alone. Sure I had friends outside of school, but there were a lot of hours in the school day to have no one.

I was a kid that kept my faith in the public school system. But I want more for my precious ones. I don't just want them to survive, I want them to thrive. Is that fear? No, I think it's just wisdom.

365 days later

Blogging is too much like homework.  

That’s what I have said whenever anyone asks me why I haven’t blogged  in a year. I feel some weird pressure, as if my 3 devoted readers will be so disappointed in me if I can’t find something relatable, witty, engaging to write about every.single.day.  So I just don’t write. But I do so love blogging… I love the way I process my thoughts as I type. I love having a record of memories takes me right back to the emotions I felt on any random day.  And just like any other blogger who is honest, I me some love comments.

My love for blogging makes me want to start again. My dread of homework makes me think I will probably blog for a week maybe two and then quit again.  I’ve thought about making some bold commitment, like a promise to blog everyday for a month.   Hmmm… maybe I should just commit to be back tomorrow. 

I am pregnant

I know this isn’t really news to any of you, but I feel like it is news to me on a daily basis.  Every time I pass a mirror and see my now huge belly, or sit down on the couch and suddenly my belly seems to leap forth and give my laptop a jolt, I think, “Wow, I am really pregnant. Me. ME! I have been given the gift of a precious tiny life in my womb. How did this happen to me?”  

I didn’t feel quite this way when I first learned I was pregnant.  I didn’t talk about my feelings and the last thing I felt like doing was posting them on a blog for the world to see.  The very few people whom I attempted to share my feelings with, didn’t really get it, and how could I expect them to? None of the had been a barren woman for 9 years of marriage.  None of them had walked my path of pain and of healing.  From anyone else’s perspective, there was nothing to feel but joy.  And I felt joy, but I felt quite a few other emotions that did not go over quite as well.  

If you have followed my blog, you know that over a year ago, Tim and I believed God directed us not to pursue any fertility treatment. We were tested at that time and told that both of us had fertility problems.  The tests confirmed that my problems were not cured by the weight loss, as we had hoped, and considering both of our issues, the doctor’s felt fertility treatment was our only hope.  Even then, because we were limited by convictions as to what we would consider in the realm of fertility treatment, the odds were very much against us.  With fertility treatment, we still had less than an 11% chance of conceiving. 

As I walked out of the clinic that day and the Lord confirmed that we should not choose this path, I felt such relief. I knew if it ever happened for us, it would be a miracle, straight from the hand of the Almighty.  Though I know He was capable of this, I did not believe this was the path He had chosen for us. I finally had peace. No fertility treatment. No more striving. No more rollercoaster. I was getting off and I felt free.  I am passionate about adoption and thought that with so many children out there to love, this was our calling, His plan.  I was healed of all the pain, I couldn’t tell you how I knew it, but I knew God had healed my heart. The sense of healing was not something I could conjure up, or determine by my will. It wasn’t some forced state of denial; I was aware that I was missing out on some things and I knew why so many others would not want to walk this path. But more than anything I knew that God’s plan was the best plan for my life, and if that did not include conceiving children, I was ready to not just accept it, but to embrace it.  

I was so excited to move forward.  I wanted to educate those around me about adoption. I wanted everyone to know that adoption was not a second choice, but a high calling. I was overwhelmed by a sense of gratefulness to God for my infertility, because I believed that it was the instrument He has used to bring about a beautiful calling in our lives. A calling to build our family the way He built His, through adoption.

But our second adoption wasn’t going so smoothly. No adoption agency seemed to be the right fit. No homestudy agency was on the same page as us. Still we pushed forward until the end of September, when our paperwork was finally complete and ready to send to Ethiopia. Something still felt wrong, just off. I remember lying in bed and nervously, telling Tim I didn’t feel like we should send our paperwork to Ethiopia and I did not know why. He felt the same way and we were both quite frustrated. Desperately wanting more children, but never wanting to run ahead of God, we waited, but we had no idea what we were waiting for.  One night a few weeks later, laying in that same darkness, I said to Tim, “the only way any of this makes sense, is if I end up pregnant.” He said nothing. 

And then I was pregnant. Really pregnant!

But I still wanted to adopt from Ethiopia. My heart for that country, my heart for adoption had not gone away with a pregnancy test. I looked at my son and there were so many questions in my heart. The plan was to have a house filled with adopted children.  What if we are completely healed and can have many more children? What if he is the only child we are able to adopt? Would he be my only child of another race in an all white family?  No, we the parents were supposed to be the odd men out, not my precious little boy. 

I had grieved the loss of not having biological children.  It had been my dream for many years, but then that dream died and a new dream was born.  Everyone kept saying that my dream had finally come true, and I knew they would never understand that it just wasn’t my dream anymore. I knew how ungrateful I seemed. Was I?  I wasn’t sure. I thanked God repeatedly for the child in my womb, because I knew with all certainty that His plans are the best, but really, I did not understand. 

Over time, God did the miraculous work that He does best.  He took a dead thing and made it alive again.  My dream of a biological child has been resurrected. The excitement and anticipation has grown through the weeks and there is a new joy in my heart. I am in awe of the work of God in our lives. I can’t say that I now totally understand, but I have stopped trying.  It is not required of me to understand. That is the greatest lesson I have learned in all of this: I do not need to figure it all out.  I need to follow and obey and allow the amazing plans He has unfold before me.  Will we adopt again? I hope so.  Will we have more biological children? I hope so. But I do not know, only He does and I know His plans are the best. 

And I am pregnant.  Really, really pregnant! 

I've been...

I haven't had much time to write over the past week or so, but in a effort to be a better blogger, I thought I'd keep y'all caught up on my life.

So I've been...

reading: Romans

listening to: Chris Rice, Peace Like A River: The Hymns Project

watching: Madagascar, Harry thinks he is Alex the Lion

enjoying: constant baby motion, she is so active

feeling: better, definitely more good days than bad

craving: hot dogs with French's yellow mustard, in normal life I consume neither of those things

fretting about: my son's behavior

learning: great child training principles, the Ted Tripp series at Resurgence is AMAZING!

debating: girl names, why can't we just find one we both love? Here's the current list: Claudia, Naomi, Genevieve, Juliette. Recently booted: Elisabeth, Violet and sadly, Lola.

keeping busy with: nesting big time... thrown out tons of junk, painted lots of walls and made my honey move lots of furniture

encouraged by: God's work in our church. The leadership group has been meeting regularly to go over a fantastic series called "From Embers to a Flame" and there is such an expectancy among us.

praying for: Abby, a sweet little girl adopted from the same orphanage as Harrison, who is fighting for her life in a battle with Leukemia.

overwhelmed by: the sheer volume of work Tim and I need to do before this baby comes! We need at least 12 good weekends where we are free to work, we have have about 4. I have NO IDEA how we will get it all done and keep up with all our commitments.

leaving for: Florida on Wednesday! I am taking Harrison to see his grandparents for a week. Tim will fly in for the weekend. (Pray I can enjoy the break and not spend the whole time fretting about what we are not getting done at home.)


I could expound on so many of these topics, but for now this post will have to do. Hopefully, there will be plenty of free time for posting by the pool (complete with virgin dacquiri) in just a few days! :) A girl can dream, right?

The first time ever I saw...

We had a big scare with our baby about a month ago.  We had a detailed sonogram and found out she had an echogenic bowel.  This basically means the babies intestines were glowing on the screen and this is considered a marker for Down's Syndrome and Cystic Fibrosis.  I initially broke down sobbing to one of my dearest friends, but after 20 minutes of that, my dear husband came home and brought me back to reality.  God has never let us down before, and He will equip us for whatever He calls us to.  As we talked, I realized that this baby is our miracle; medically she should not exist, but here she is.  And so when God gives you a miracle, it is not for you to question the details.  She is our miracle baby and we will take her however He has sent her to us. Gratefully! 

I saw a specialist a few days later, who confirmed the echogenic bowel and ran a lot of blood work.  We did not want an amniocentesis, due to the risk if miscarriage, so we were hoping the blood tests would give us the clues we needed.  The good news was the specialist could finally get a look at her girly bits and confirm the babies sex for us.  (She had been shyer in all previous sonos.)  

It would take 2 weeks to get all the blood work back, but in the end, they showed that her chances of having either Down's or CF were very, very low.  

Tuesday I went for a follow up with the specialist.  He told me the brightness had faded and given that fact, plus the test results, I should just put the matter out of my head.  And since I was there with goop all over my belly, he was nice enough to switch over to 4D and let me take a look at my beautiful little girl. To see her face, her movements, I can't even describe how amazing it was.  

She would only give us profile pics, but I thought I'd share a couple...  

Snow day!

Harry finally had a chance today to play in the snow.  There really has been no good snow in Maryland since he has been home.  We got a few inches at the end of January, but we were in Florida and missed it completely. 

  

His grandparents gave him his very own snow-shovel for Christmas

this year, and he so loves the opportunity to be Daddy's helper. He has shoveled paths all over our yard.  It is so cute and how determined he is. In most places, the snow comes up to the middle of his little thighs and still he tromps through shoveling his paths "for Daddy!"  Here he is in the path he cleared up to his play house.

Having a little taste...

And protesting the suggestion of lunch...

Some Thoughts on Lent

“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me."

John 17:20 -23

The Lenten season began this week. Lent is a precious time in the church calendar, a time of repentance, prayer and fasting before the Lord. For many years, I did not understand Lent and the season passed unnoticed by me. I felt that in each believer's life there were seasons when God drew us to repentance, prayer and fasting. Why should the calendar tell us when to do this? For me, the answer to this question, is the very reason now I so appreciate the season. Lent is both a corporate and personal time. When an individual member of the body of Christ lays aside earthly pleasures to seek the Lord, it is a precious thing. But when the Body of Christ moves in unison toward a common purpose, we are accomplishing the will of God, unity. And when the common purpose under which we unify is repentance, our God is sure to respond.

If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.

2 Chronicles 7:14

I see so many areas where repentance is needful and I am desperate to see His healing from sin manifest in my own life, in my family, in my local church and in the Body of Christ as a whole. I am so grateful that healing and forgiveness have been assured through Christ and I eagerly wait to see the Lord move in the coming weeks.

A sisty!

I wanted to find out the sex and Tim was on the fence but leaning towards keeping it a surprise. Harrison did not care which we decided. He had already decided he was having a "sisty" and let us know with all the determination of a Guatemalan toddler that would hear nothing about brothers! It was his determination that tipped the scales in my favor and we found out the sex. We were really going to have to prepare him if the little one inside of me had boy parts. The sonogram confirmed what Harrison knew all along, he is having a sisty!

Our Story

Last February I walked out of a fertility clinic knowing I would not return. They hadn't done anything for me. I hadn't let them get that far. Individually, it was unlikely either Tim or I would be able to conceive. Together, it would take major medical intervention just to give us less than a 10% shot. I knew in my heart in those moments, that were life ever to be placed in my womb, it would be solely by the hand of the Almighty, not the plans of men. To Him only would go the glory. And I knew that He might never choose to do so, and even then to Him would be the glory.

And I put the matter out of my head. I had my closure. I would not strive.

So in early November, I was rearranging furniture and later that night, my back began to ache. Motrin, heating pads, rest, no relief. After a few days I began to wonder what was going on... muscle aches all over. Until one afternoon in the Ikea Cafe, I could not stand up. My body was paralized with pain. I was blessed to have my mom with me, to help me to the car and to corral Harrison. She had recently started working at an OBGyn office and gingerly brought up the topic of ectopic pregnancies.

Are you late?
I am always late.
By how long?
A couple of weeks, I guess.
Have you taken a test?
No, I don't waste my money on those silly things anymore.
Stop the car at Target, I will buy the test.
Yawn.

I came home and took the test. One line meant I was not pregnant. Two lines meant I was. I had one very clear line and one if you look real close you can see a line kind of line. Tim was driving home from work so I called him to tell him that I thought I had a positive pregnancy test. His response: You probably took it wrong, take another one. I tried to put the matter out of my head until he got home. I took another just before bed and the result was worse... one very clear line and one if you look really, really close you can see a line kind of line.

I scheduled a blood test the next day and my mother-in-law took me to the appointment. I took the last of my home tests just before I left. Same result. The results for the blood test would take 24 hours and that was just too long for my dear mother-in-law to wait. We ran to the drug store after my appointment and she bought a three pack of the fancy digital tests that pop up with the word "PREGNANT" if it's positive. As soon as we got in the door, she insisted I take one of the fancy tests. I did and it was instantly positive. Her response: It was supposed to take 3 minutes, maybe it was defective. Take another!

At this point I knew I was pregnant, but Tim, my mother and mother-in-law would not believe anything until they we got the blood test results. The day the results came in I was still in a lot of back pain, so the doctor asked me to come in for a sonogram to rule out the possibility of an ectopic pregnancy. Of course all was well. I watched her tiny heart beating inside me and received a back and white photo of a teeny tiny little bean in my belly to show all those in doubt.

I am now 21 1/2 weeks pregnant. Tim and I were married on July 3, 1999. Three days later, Tim and I decided that contraception was not for us and we would let God decide when we would have children. Exactly 10 years later, on July 6, 2009, our baby is due!

Back to Blogging

I am going to try my hand at blogging again. I really haven't been faithful with it since I became a mom, and FaceBook has been just so easy for quick updates and keeping in touch. But I do enjoy blogging, so I keep coming back.

I am also coming back to Blogger. Nothing against my .mac site. I still love my mac, and the site was fun and very easy to play with, but it was not free. I received it as a gift for a year and the year will be over next month. So back to free Blogger I come!

The last time I posted I announced our pregnancy. And then never posted again. Never gave any details or even said how far along I was. How frustrating! But I have a good excuse. I could barely get my head out of the toilet long enough to say hi to my husband, much less sit and think and type. Morning, noon and night sickness got the better of me until a few weeks ago. I still have good days and bad days, but the good days are outnumbering the bad and I finally feel like a functional member of society again. So my first post will the story of how we found out...

And then God surprises you

We really had no idea what to do. We were all ready to adopt from Ethiopia, but felt God was holding us back. We started to pray about pursuing foster care and foster/adopt programs, but got no answer. Desperately wanting more children, but never wanting to run ahead of the Father, we waited. For some kind of sign, for something.

We got our sign. Seven times. Five home pregnancy tests, one blood test, and a sonogram confirmed what we could not believe. God has placed a life in my womb.

Fall Fun

Fall is my absolute favorite season and it has been so much fun to enjoy it with Harrison this year. Two weeks ago we went to a fall festival at a local park. Here are some pics...

Harrison with his cousin Brayden



In line for a hayride



Getting his face painted with PopPop

Happy Boys!

Then last week we went to the best pumpkin patch ever! It had a petting zoo, hay rides, a big hay pit for the kiddos to jump around in, a playground, one barn where you could learn about farming, another barn where they served hot dogs, fries and ice cream and finally a 3+ mile corn maze.

An aerial view of this year's maze

Harry found a little lamb



Brayden, Annie and Harrison



So many pumpkins!

Here we wait

Something comes to you, an idea, a plan, a new venture. You head down the path and can sense God is in this thing, He is moving. You have your destination in mind and you are forging ahead with your eye on the prize. As you go, you hit obstacles, unexpected bumps in the road that force you to change and grow. With your heart set on the things ahead, you yield to the process and find God is breaking down walls in your heart. He is using this path to change you in ways you had not expected.

Then suddenly you reach a fork in your road. You can bear left pressing on toward your original goal, or now you can bear right toward another destination. Another destination that you had considered before, but dismissed quickly, as not for you, for so many reasons. But standing there at the fork, you realize your time on this path has changed you, and each of the objections you had to this new destination have worn away as you toiled on the path. You would not have started down this road with the new destination in mind, but now that you are at the fork, you see that you needed to head down this road to get to either destination. You needed to be changed in order to be prepared to arrive at the new destination. And so there you stand. Staring at the fork. Your heart clinging to all the reasons you started on the path, but amazed by the excitement stirring in your belly at the new venture just steps away. Was this His plan all along, or is this just a distraction? God will guide you, you are sure of that, but waiting for Him at this crossroads isn’t easy.

Waiting for Him at this crossroads isn’t easy.

I hesitate to write anything at all, because I have no idea which way He will lead. Well, maybe that’s not true, maybe I do have an idea. There are a million reasons why Ethiopia is the right fit for us, and I WANT IT SO BADLY. But I have a feeling, we are going to bear right toward a new destination. Maybe not, and so we wait…

Tis the Season

I am not a great blogger most of the time, but in the spring and summer, I downright stink. I just love being outside. I love pushing our kitchen table off to the side to catch junk mail for a few months, while we eat breakfast, lunch and dinner out on the porch. I love watching my baby run around in the grass with nothing but a diaper... and sometimes not even that. I love our morning walks to the park and swinging side-by-side with my little man. I love when it so hot that I stop caring about the condition of my arms and I throw on a tank top. I love splashing in our inflatable kiddy pool. I love farmers markets and fresh fruits and veggies that didn’t come from California. I love mowing the lawn, digging in the dirt and watching as each of my flowers take turns blooming. The tulips, the snowball bush, the irises, the peonies, the pixie lilies, and now the hydrangeas and daylilies, while the hibiscus and black-eyed susans and butterfly bushes have not quite woken. This year I can add a new love to that list. My new garden, my vegetable garden.

My grandma grew up on a farm in southern Maryland and she when she married my Grandpa, an Irish immigrant with his feet firmly planted in Baltimore city, she missed getting her hands dirty. They lived in a tiny house in the city, but grandpa made sure their yard was big enough for quite a spectacular garden. I have the best memories of driving to her little farm in the city, and spending hours playing amongst the veggies, digging up worms, or coloring under the grape arbors. The tomatoes, peppers, potatoes, strawberries, cucumbers, she grew everything, but my absolute favorite were her grapes. The most magnificent grapes I have ever tasted in my life. Recently, I discovered a local vineyard that has one wine that tastes just like those grapes. One sip and I am right back there.

So here are a few photos from my garden.

Tomatoes

Jalapenos

Romaine

Strawberries



Zucchini

I also did head lettuce, yellow bell peppers, onions, carrots, spinach , broccoli, eggplant, a bunch of herbs and started a blueberry bush.

Cabbage worms ate my broccoli and I didn’t pick the spinach in time, but we have enjoyed carrots, strawberries and lettuce, and zucchini is on tonight’s menu.

Here’s a look at the perfect little garden my amazing husband gave up a lot of blood, sweat, tears and Saturdays to build me...

Isn’t he just the best?

And finally here are a few pics of my flowers...

Where do I start?

It was this time last year that I stopped blogging for seven months. I had no intention of repeating history, but I can now clearly remember why I stopped. The sun shines, the garden calls… Harry and I wake up early and play outside til the sun goes down.

So much has happened since I last wrote here, so much that beginning again seemed overwhelming and I let time pass.

Shortly after my last post Harrison turned two. And he is 100% two, by the way. He is so fun and so strong-willed. And everyday I feel more on top of the world to have this amazing little person as my son. And everyday I feel like being a mother is the most impossible job ever.

My mom has been staying with us on and off and it is such a blessing to have her here. I have missed having her so close and can’t wait until she can come back permanently.

Tim built me an amazing vegetable garden. I did a little research and planned it out and he worked himself to the bone for four Saturdays. It is fantastic. He has never been the handy type at all, in fact I have done pretty much all the handyman work for most of our marriage. So it is all the more special how much time and work he put into it. The garden in done, now he is putting in a walkway around it. I will post photos over in our albums. You will be impressed!

Our adoption process has hit more than a few bumps in the road. We have had very difficult decisions to make and basically haven’t really been able to move forward in the past 6 weeks. In fact, we’ve moved backward. Here’s the story…

We found an agency we loved. They had everything we wanted, but they were still in the process of getting licensed by the Ethiopian government. They were expected to have their licensing within a month, so they encouraged us to sign on, work on our homestudy and dossier and then we would be ready soon after they were licensed. I had reservations, but really liked them so we moved forward with that plan. Our goal was to adopt 2 children younger than Harrison. Our ideal situation would have been to bring home a 6 month old baby girl and an 18 month old baby boy when Harry was about 2 ½ . So they would each be about a year apart. We were willing to be flexible, but still, two babies under two is a tricky request. Our agency was fine with it.

I knew that adopting two at once would present challenges. Attaching with 2 children at once couldn’t be easy, since I knew first-hand attaching with just one baby presented a lot of challenges. And the sheer amount of work involved in having 3 kids under three…scary! Then there is Harrison, through his little eyes… “Mommy and Daddy leave me for 10 days and when they return they bring not one, but two babies home who take up so much of the time that was just mine.”

But the positives out weighed the negatives in our minds. We really are not trying to be a “global family” with one child from each of eight countries. We would like each of our children to have someone else in the family that shares their country of birth/ethnicity. Guatemala is closed and no one can say for sure we will ever be able to return there for another child. Nor can anyone say what the future holds in Ethiopia. Adopting two babies at once would ensure we would not run into this problem again.

So when our homestudy agency told us they do not approve the adoption of two non-related children, we knew our chances of finding a baby boy under two with a younger sister would be nothing short of miraculous. We were stunned. We had paid a nice chunk of money and submitted a nice chunk of the paperwork. I called other agencies, we could go elsewhere and be approved. It took us almost a month to decide but in the end we opted to stay with our homestudy agency.

Then, I emailed our adoption agency to see if there was any news on their licensing. They told us that Ethiopia is currently investigating several agencies and has decided to freeze all applications for licensing. They told us they had set up a networking agreement with another agency and that agency would process the adoptions for our agencies clients. I have never felt comfortable with this. It just seems ripe with problems. I have known others who have been involved in these situations and I think they could have saved themselves a lot of headache (and often heartache) if they just dealt with one agency. Plus, I keep reading that this practice is illegal in Ethiopia. Our agency assures us it perfectly legal and they have read the actual laws. But how can we know for sure? We really can’t.

We are now restarting our homestudy and searching for a new agency, one that has it’s own license in Ethiopia. Adoption never ceases to be a rollercoaster. It is in times like these that I love when people tell me how easy I have it, because I don’t have to go though pregnancy and childbirth. Nothing about adoption is easy. When they tell me how lucky I am to not be getting stretch marks, and they have no idea the wrinkles and gray hairs that I’ll get instead.

My Mom

I almost lost my mom a week ago Friday.

My aunt and I took her into the hospital early Friday morning for a Cardiac Catheterization. A relatively simple exploratory procedure. Mom was having it done because she had been having some symptoms of heart disease and they wanted to take a look inside.

Five hours in the waiting room, ticked by slowly as we waited for the results. Finally around 2:00, Mom’s doctor came out and told us her arteries were perfect. What relief we felt! He told us we could go see her in recovery, but she would need to stay horizontal for four hours, so the hole they had just created in her artery could close. Two hours later the nurse came to take us back.

We went back and she looked great. She was still a little loopy from the drugs, so we had some fun teasing her. We laughed. We acted silly. We were just so relieved.

Her four hours of not moving were finally over and we were anxious to leave. It was 6:00 pm and I was aching to see my boys. The nurse took forever to come and tell her she could get up. She said she could go to the restroom, get dressed and then they would have her discharge papers ready.

I left the room for a moment and when I returned, it was surreal. My aunt was standing in the middle of the recovery room; her face was pale and covered in fear. Nurses were running in and out of mom’s room frantically, yelling to other nurses to bring various tools and page the doctor. No one spoke to my aunt or me. We stood there like statues frozen with fear. I kept waiting for someone to tell us she was going to be okay, but no one did. I heard my mom say she was going to pass out and the nurses behind the curtain were yelling at her to stay awake. Everything was frantic. Bedside manor was out the window. They were just keeping her alive.

At some point my aunt and a nurse pushed me into a chair when they thought I was going to pass out. I wasn’t going to, my brain couldn’t accept what was going on. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t pray, I couldn’t cry. I didn’t know how to do anything in that moment. I just wanted to hold my baby. I needed Harrison and the need consumed me. I was losing my mother and I just needed to mother my son.

Finally, she was stabilized and a nurse came to explain what had happened. The hole in the artery had not closed and as she walked back from the bathroom she began to hemorrhage. She said something about dissolving a hematoma before a clot could travel through her blood stream. We could go say hi but we would have to go back to the waiting room for 2 hours… at least.

We decided to get dinner and as we walked my throat began to tighten, I couldn’t swallow and breathing became more difficult. I was beginning to deal. I got in the cafeteria line, called Tim and the floodgates opened. His sister stayed with Harrison and he headed into DC to be with me. The realizations that I came to over those two hours were horrifying. Harrison adores her, but he would’ve never remembered her. She has been so supportive of our decision to adopt from Ethiopia, more so than anyone else in our families, but her African grandchildren would’ve never known her.

And me. It was just her and me for so many years. We walked a difficult path together, just the two of us. She is the only one who really knows, because she is the only one who was there. She is my mother, my best friend, my inspiration. She is the most giving, selfless person I have ever known.

The feelings I had are hard to describe and they really took me by surprise. I felt like I was on the brink of being an orphan. Yes, I have a father, but as I look back I can’t remember a time when our relationship was parental. And so it’s really just her. I felt that if she were gone, I would be more alone than I had ever been before. The one person who has been on my side for over thirty years, the only witness to my whole life. Gone. In a moment.

I would have never understood this feeling two weeks ago. If someone else were saying these things, I would’ve thought there was a problem with their marriage. But my marriage is great. So what is this feeling?

Mom ended up spending the night in the hospital and was released the next day. She spent several days here with us recuperating. Now she has regained most of her strength and is doing great. But I am changed by the experience. I walked around the whole week in a fog… perpetually on the verge of tears… acutely aware of what a gift I have… and that one day she will be gone.

Caught

...in the living room with Moon Sand!

Sorry Nae, I don’t have any jokes. Hope this was cute enough to provoke a smile!

Gratitude

This photo was taken about a month ago. Harry and sweet Izzy are sitting at Father Greg’s feet with their prayer books.

I love this photo, not just because it is adorable, but because it is a reminder of God’s spiritual provision. As I see my little boy sitting at the feet of the man who has been my spiritual father since I was 9 years old, I am overcome with gratitude. I am so grateful that my son will grow up with a solid foundation. I am so grateful that he will not be “carried about by every wind of doctrine,” that he will grow up in the truths it took us so many years to find.

Sweet Cakes

This one’s for all the GuateMama’s out there...

It is hard to find recipes that are specific to Guatemala, but I found this one for Guatemalan Sweet Cakes on Epicurious a few weeks ago. Tim and Harrison were over the moon for them. I thought they were pretty good, but what I really liked was having a special treat from Guatemala for Harry.

One side note, the recipe calls for Farmer Cheese. When I was growing up, we often went to an Amish market and bought something called Farmer Cheese. It was similar to provolone. This is not that cheese. This farmer cheese is similar to cottage cheese or ricotta and can be found in the same section of the market. BUT don’t try to substitute cottage cheese as I did on the first go... yuck!