In April 2011, I completed my final pack of birth control pills. I was ready and Sam had halfheartedly agreed that we could start trying for a baby (because his other option was likely that I'd start flushing the pills and stabbing holes in condoms...God bless the old me). He had just completed his first year of his three year doctoral program and we had celebrated our first anniversary. May 2011 would be our first month of possibility. You know how the story goes.
It's October 2018 now, a full seven and a half years later. The clock is stopping now. Have mercy, but there are a lot of weird, hard, mixed up feelings in this decision, but I'm sharing it because every other part of this journey has been open, honest, and vulnerable. It feels like this part probably should be too. I'm starting birth control again.
If you would have asked me even two years ago about birth control, I would have chuckled and offered some quip like "no need. I am my own birth control." And when you look at my track record, it seems all but certain. Even with IVF, I was given chances below 10%. So what are my chances of a regular, non-medicated cycle without timed intercourse? 1%? Less than 1%? The odds have always seemed so low. So very, very low.
I told myself years ago that I was done dictating my cycles. They could come or go as they wanted and I would just live life. If I had a 24 day cycle, so be it. If I had a 48 day cycle, I'd save some money on tampons. That was about my level of interest. And so with time, my dedication to even track my cycles fell to the wayside. I barely remember to even note when a cycle starts now.
I told God that I was done trying, asking, praying. I would just trust him. If he wanted a miracle, bring it. If he didn't, I was content with the miracles he has already allowed me to witness.
But things have changed. I no longer feel the same open arms feeling of surrender. Instead I feel an itchy, anxious fear that keeps me up at night and makes me second guess intimacy with my husband. And I don't want to live that way.
The reality is that our life is FULL with two kids...full in ways that are hard to explain. The boys are 16 months apart, basically as if I had gotten pregnant when Garrison was 6 months old. I know that as they grow up, the close proximity of their ages will likely be a blessing, but right now, we're in the thick of it. Two kids in full time daycare, medical bills out the wazoo, therapy appointments... it's just a lot.
And the truth is that I no longer want a biological child. That is CRAZY hard to admit as we have four embryos on ice in Florida right this very moment, but hiding behind my feelings won't change a thing. My kids have some hard, complex days ahead as they will begin to grasp and grapple with their adoption, their permanence in our family, their first families, and their relationship and role within our family. While I know a lot of blended families of biological and adopted children, it just doesn't feel like the right thing for our family at this moment. We will finish out our infertility treatments by seeing it through with the final four embryos from my IVF cycle in 2014, but after that, we're done. I have zero wish to ever crawl back on that crazy roller coaster. See you, bye.
Additionally, I think there's a solid chance that there is another kiddo for our family, but when I think about it, when I allow my heart to unwind and my mind to imagine, I feel deep within my soul that a future Greavu would join our family though international adoption, likely China. China changed some of their rules in the summer of 2017. One of the regulations now states that the youngest child in the home must be three years old (or older) before you can submit your dossier. We cross that line next June with Joel, and then the possibilities are wide open for us. But if I were to get pregnant, we'd be at least four years from bringing home another child from China. And I'll be honest, I'm not sure I could bribe Sam to go for four kids, and I'm not sure I'm the right mom for four. It feels like an either/or decision, and right now, my heart doesn't break for the possibility of a maybe baby with thick brown hair and green eyes, but it SHATTERS over the orphan on the other side of the world.
It felt reckless, even dangerous to have unprotected sex while we were in process with Joel. If we had gotten pregnant, we would have been obligated to report it to our agency, which would have very likely cost us our adoption of Joel. SCARY STUFF. My opinion might be different if the rules had never changed, if you could adopt while pregnant, or with infants in the home, but three years? Gosh, that's a long time. It feels like the nail in the coffin...and when those are the words that come to mind when I think about a surprise pregnancy, I know that my head and heart just aren't in it.
Am I 100% sure about this decision? Gosh no. Enneagram 6's rarely ever get the luxury of being 100% confident in any decision. We just learn to live and lean into the uncertainty. I turn 33 this month. The years are speeding by faster than ever. I'll receive the "advanced maternal age" tag in just two short years if I ever try to conceive again. I know that this decision may mean I'm eliminating my chances. And yes that's a little hard to wrap my mind around. Probably a little less hard knowing my chances are basically nill to start with though. It was going to take a miracle at 26. It'll still take a miracle at 35. I'm taking comfort in knowing that this isn't an irreversible procedure. It's a pill. I take it or I don't. If things change next month or six months from now, I can stop the pill and I'll be right back where I am...ridiculously infertile and unlikely to conceive.
But what about trusting God with our family? Didn't I say that? Gosh guys, I don't know. A lot of healing has happened over the last four years in my head and my heart and my relationship with God, but there's still a lot of doubt and fear when I think about God, particularly in relation to growing my family or fertility stuff. It's not good and it's not true and when the lies creep into my mind, I'm trying to push it back with the truth of who God is. But the reality is, sometimes I almost think it's more likely that God would heal my body, uterus, eggs, and whatever else is wrong in there now that I don't want a baby. Like I said, wonky, hard, messed up feelings still lurk at the bottom or it all. There's no magic wand to wave to unthink the lies you believe about yourself or God. I've been wrestling with a good bit of guilt about this decision, as if choosing to go on birth control means that I don't trust God. Maybe it does and maybe it doesn't, but I've finally come to place of semi-peace about the decision. If I was a normal, fertile woman with working ovaries and junk, and we didn't want to get pregnant, we'd pursue this option. Just because it is so much less likely for us doesn't seem like a valid reason to role the dice over and over again if it's not the outcome we're hoping for.
It was a good run. 7.5 years of not hearing the ding of my phone to remind me to stop and swallow a pill. I'll miss that. And I'm not looking forward to regular cycles. Ughhhh. Far too often. But I am looking forward to a little peace and the opportunity it brings for the future.
Showing posts with label Adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adoption. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 10, 2018
Monday, September 10, 2018
China: Part III
We arrived in Guangzhou on Friday, March 2. The flight from Kunming was borderline hellacious. Joel was terrified...understandably so. To him, these crazy people who he just met four days before were abducting him and putting him in a giant metal tube that went up in the air and did scary, shaky things. He cried and screamed for a large portion of the flight. It was definitely a loooooong flight for being our shortest of the six.
As we were leaving Kunming, I was pretty overwhelmed with emotion. We were taking our boy away from the only city he had ever known. Granted, Gaungzhou is still in China, but I knew that these cities were likely very, very different. Even the language was likely different as Mandarin is the primary spoken language in Yunnan (the province where Joel was born and lived), but in Guangdong, the majority of people speak Cantonese. It hit me just how little choice our little guy had in all of this. Everyone around him was making these choices, hopefully with his best interest in mind, but he was slowly but surely, one day and one flight at a time leaving everything he knew and understood.
We arrived in Guangzhou and exited the plane to a wall of humidity. I live in Georgia, so I'm no stranger to heat and humidity, but whoa. This was unreal. It was the first time I understood what people from dryer climates experience in Georgia...the change was dramatic. I instantly felt hot and heavy. Good thing I had 23 pounds strapped to me and we had four backpacks and four suitcases to carry through the airport. We met our guide, Simon, who graciously took our overabundance of luggage in stride and helped us load into a van for a ride to our hotel. I was DESPERATE to get out of that van and into the hotel and just be done for the day, but thanks to the traffic of Guangzhou, it was a fairly long ride.
We walked into our hotel to jaw-dropping beauty, and a smell I'll never forget. The smells in China are something I can't quite describe. For someone with a very sensitive nose, it was kind of an overwhelming experience. Having experienced less desirable smells on many occasions thus far, I totally understand why our hotel was pumping in the perfumed air, but WOW. I wish I could provide you all with a scratch and sniff sampling.
On Saturday morning, Joel had to go in for a medical appointment. It is a required step to receive a visa and be cleared to leave the country and travel to the US. It was a really rough day. I'm not sure if what we witnessed was from medical trauma or if he was simply terrified, but the visit with the doctor was excruciating. Joel had experienced a series of really rough days at this point...first the visit back to the orphanage, then the travel day, and finally a visit to the doctor. We finished the morning off with a visit to have Joel's visa issued. His photo from the visit sums up his feelings on the last few days.
On Sunday, we went to visit the Ancestral Temple of the Chen Family. It was a really interesting place, but unfortunately both kiddos were not in the mood to chill and quietly explore art. Within the Hall there are several places to shop for traditional Chinese items such as chops, silk fans, and scrolls. We purchased some items to give to Joel over the next few years and enjoyed looking at all the beautiful artwork and the incredible craftsmanship. After that we went to to a local market to shop for pearls and jade. I purchased a beautiful jade bangle...80% because I loved it and 20% because I was afraid they'd have to saw my hand off if I asked them to take it off.
On Monday, the group went to the Safari Park, but we decided to opt out. It is supposedly amazing, but it makes for a really long day and we felt that the boys were wiped out physically and emotionally. We decided to hang around the hotel and explore another shopping opportunity to get a few more items to give to Joel over the next few years. Our hotel had an incredible garden within it and the boys loved it! It had hills for the them to roll down, ponds of koi for them to watch, and lots of grassy spaces for them to throw and kick balls. We spent lots and lots and lots of time there. It sort of became my sanctuary. It was a way to get fresh air and sunshine without worrying about the boys or needing to hold them the whole time.
On Tuesday, Sam, Joel, and I went to the US Consulate to complete the last bit of paperwork. Two days later we'd be able to leave China with our son if everything was approved. It was a stressful morning in that there was a good bit of waiting and security measures, but Joel did far better there than at the medical appointment. We were thankful to complete all of the necessary steps and leave without any complications. The clock was officially ticking. Joel's visa was the last thing we needed before we could go home.
On Wednesday, the group traveled to Shamian Island. This place is filled with a lot of history for the China adoption community because until 2013 the US Consulate was on the island. As every adoptive family is required to go to the Consulate, many families stayed on the island. The hotels and statues and even restaurants have become places for families to seek out and snap some photos. Shamian Island has definitely catered to the adoptive families over the years by becoming a shopping destination for all kinds of gifts and souvenirs. Even though the US Consulate is no longer there and the families aren't required to visit the island, most do in order to shop and walk the famous streets that they've heard so much about.
Thursday was a free day as many of the families were making plans to leave. This was one of the hardest days for me. We ended up with flights out on Friday, so Thursday was literally just a day of waiting. We received Joel's passport back with his visa inside at about 11:00 a.m. The following hours were pretty slow and long as I was becoming more and more desperate to get home. If I had it all to do over (or when making recommendations to other families), I'd suggest leaving the first day/night that you can or scheduling some kind of activity for the day. It was a day that I could have really used something to do to make the day go by just a bit faster.
On Friday, we were up bright and early to take a van to Hong Kong. Most families leave China via the Guangzhou or Hong Kong airport and we found cheaper tickets out of Hong Kong. I would have preferred leaving via Guangzhou (because Hong Kong is a three hour drive and an additional trip through customs), but it was neat to see the area as we drove in. It's definitely a part of China that I would want to return to if/when we make it back one day.
After a bit of a wait in the Hong Kong airport, we finally boarded the plane back to the US. This was quite possibly the longest day of my life. Thanks to the magic that is the rotation of the earth and time zones, we left on Friday, March 9, at 11:45 a.m. and flew for 12 hours only to land in Seattle on Friday, March 9, at 7:59 a.m. What the actual F? By the time we got to Seattle I was DONE. And apparently so were the boys because our wait there in the airport and the final flight home were EPIC nightmares. God bless each and every passenger on that plane. We finally landed in Atlanta after flight delays and maintenance issues on Friday, March 9, at about 9 p.m. And we were home. Our journey to China and back again was over, but the real journey was just beginning and life as we knew it was forever changed by the gift of our son.
As we were leaving Kunming, I was pretty overwhelmed with emotion. We were taking our boy away from the only city he had ever known. Granted, Gaungzhou is still in China, but I knew that these cities were likely very, very different. Even the language was likely different as Mandarin is the primary spoken language in Yunnan (the province where Joel was born and lived), but in Guangdong, the majority of people speak Cantonese. It hit me just how little choice our little guy had in all of this. Everyone around him was making these choices, hopefully with his best interest in mind, but he was slowly but surely, one day and one flight at a time leaving everything he knew and understood.
We arrived in Guangzhou and exited the plane to a wall of humidity. I live in Georgia, so I'm no stranger to heat and humidity, but whoa. This was unreal. It was the first time I understood what people from dryer climates experience in Georgia...the change was dramatic. I instantly felt hot and heavy. Good thing I had 23 pounds strapped to me and we had four backpacks and four suitcases to carry through the airport. We met our guide, Simon, who graciously took our overabundance of luggage in stride and helped us load into a van for a ride to our hotel. I was DESPERATE to get out of that van and into the hotel and just be done for the day, but thanks to the traffic of Guangzhou, it was a fairly long ride.
We walked into our hotel to jaw-dropping beauty, and a smell I'll never forget. The smells in China are something I can't quite describe. For someone with a very sensitive nose, it was kind of an overwhelming experience. Having experienced less desirable smells on many occasions thus far, I totally understand why our hotel was pumping in the perfumed air, but WOW. I wish I could provide you all with a scratch and sniff sampling.
 |
| The lobby of our hotel. |
On Saturday morning, Joel had to go in for a medical appointment. It is a required step to receive a visa and be cleared to leave the country and travel to the US. It was a really rough day. I'm not sure if what we witnessed was from medical trauma or if he was simply terrified, but the visit with the doctor was excruciating. Joel had experienced a series of really rough days at this point...first the visit back to the orphanage, then the travel day, and finally a visit to the doctor. We finished the morning off with a visit to have Joel's visa issued. His photo from the visit sums up his feelings on the last few days.
 |
On Sunday, we went to visit the Ancestral Temple of the Chen Family. It was a really interesting place, but unfortunately both kiddos were not in the mood to chill and quietly explore art. Within the Hall there are several places to shop for traditional Chinese items such as chops, silk fans, and scrolls. We purchased some items to give to Joel over the next few years and enjoyed looking at all the beautiful artwork and the incredible craftsmanship. After that we went to to a local market to shop for pearls and jade. I purchased a beautiful jade bangle...80% because I loved it and 20% because I was afraid they'd have to saw my hand off if I asked them to take it off.
 |
| Ancestral Temple of the Chen Family |
 |
| Market where we could buy pearls and jade |
On Monday, the group went to the Safari Park, but we decided to opt out. It is supposedly amazing, but it makes for a really long day and we felt that the boys were wiped out physically and emotionally. We decided to hang around the hotel and explore another shopping opportunity to get a few more items to give to Joel over the next few years. Our hotel had an incredible garden within it and the boys loved it! It had hills for the them to roll down, ponds of koi for them to watch, and lots of grassy spaces for them to throw and kick balls. We spent lots and lots and lots of time there. It sort of became my sanctuary. It was a way to get fresh air and sunshine without worrying about the boys or needing to hold them the whole time.
On Tuesday, Sam, Joel, and I went to the US Consulate to complete the last bit of paperwork. Two days later we'd be able to leave China with our son if everything was approved. It was a stressful morning in that there was a good bit of waiting and security measures, but Joel did far better there than at the medical appointment. We were thankful to complete all of the necessary steps and leave without any complications. The clock was officially ticking. Joel's visa was the last thing we needed before we could go home.
 |
| Outside the US Consulate in Guangzhou, China |
 |
| View of Guangzhou from the Pearl River Cruise |
 |
| Pearl River Cruise entertainment |
 |
| First sword fight. |
On Wednesday, the group traveled to Shamian Island. This place is filled with a lot of history for the China adoption community because until 2013 the US Consulate was on the island. As every adoptive family is required to go to the Consulate, many families stayed on the island. The hotels and statues and even restaurants have become places for families to seek out and snap some photos. Shamian Island has definitely catered to the adoptive families over the years by becoming a shopping destination for all kinds of gifts and souvenirs. Even though the US Consulate is no longer there and the families aren't required to visit the island, most do in order to shop and walk the famous streets that they've heard so much about.
 |
| Joel's feelings on Shamian Island and the bus ride there were NOT joyful. My face pretty much sums up these last few days in country. Fix it, Jesus. |
 |
| The Red Couch is a famous sofa in the White Swan hotel in Shamian Island where many adoptive families stayed when the US Consulate was in Guangzhou. It became so popular that most adoptive families make a trip to the hotel for this photo opportunity alone. Joel's feelings about this special moment were indicative of our last days in China. All heads turn toward the screaming kid in the corner. |
Thursday was a free day as many of the families were making plans to leave. This was one of the hardest days for me. We ended up with flights out on Friday, so Thursday was literally just a day of waiting. We received Joel's passport back with his visa inside at about 11:00 a.m. The following hours were pretty slow and long as I was becoming more and more desperate to get home. If I had it all to do over (or when making recommendations to other families), I'd suggest leaving the first day/night that you can or scheduling some kind of activity for the day. It was a day that I could have really used something to do to make the day go by just a bit faster.
On Friday, we were up bright and early to take a van to Hong Kong. Most families leave China via the Guangzhou or Hong Kong airport and we found cheaper tickets out of Hong Kong. I would have preferred leaving via Guangzhou (because Hong Kong is a three hour drive and an additional trip through customs), but it was neat to see the area as we drove in. It's definitely a part of China that I would want to return to if/when we make it back one day.
 |
| All of our feelings as we boarded the plane for Hong Kong to Seattle. God have mercy. |
 |
| American Citizen...poor buddy was so sick with a gross respiratory infection and lingering pink eye. I look rough and I look far better than I felt waiting for the last flight home. |
After a bit of a wait in the Hong Kong airport, we finally boarded the plane back to the US. This was quite possibly the longest day of my life. Thanks to the magic that is the rotation of the earth and time zones, we left on Friday, March 9, at 11:45 a.m. and flew for 12 hours only to land in Seattle on Friday, March 9, at 7:59 a.m. What the actual F? By the time we got to Seattle I was DONE. And apparently so were the boys because our wait there in the airport and the final flight home were EPIC nightmares. God bless each and every passenger on that plane. We finally landed in Atlanta after flight delays and maintenance issues on Friday, March 9, at about 9 p.m. And we were home. Our journey to China and back again was over, but the real journey was just beginning and life as we knew it was forever changed by the gift of our son.
Friday, May 11, 2018
A New Normal
Today marks nine weeks home. I don’t really know what to say about these weeks. They have been incredibly hard, hard in ways I was prepared for, and I’m thankful for that. So, so thankful. But still so, so hard.
My greatest regret from my first adoption of Garrison three years ago was my lack of preparation. No one talked to us about attachment, or lack there of. No one said anything about caring for a premie. No one spoke a word about any of the things I was facing. Everyone spoke as if unicorns and rainbows had taken up residence in my home and heart. Oh God, how I wanted that to bet true, but the truth is that those first 6ish weeks with Garrison were indescribably hard. Add on to that the layers of guilt and self doubt from my years of infertility and I was spiraling down a dark hole fast. I didn’t know how to explain it to anyone and all everyone could see was that I finally had my baby, and everyone (myself included) assumed I’d be blissfully happy without a complaint in the world.
When we decided to adopt again, and internationally this time, I knew I needed preparation. I had an agency in mind that several close friends had used, but I decided to dig deeper and hunt for the best fit. I asked lots of people and called lots of agencies. We eventually landed with Lifeline in part because I was desperate for education and post-adoption support (I also believe in their ministry, they have a good reputation in the adoption community, and I love how willing the China Program Director is to answer all of my calls). I assumed at the very least that this adoption would be very different, but likely harder and I wanted to be ready.
We did buckets and buckets and hours and hours of training. Read books on adoption, attachment, Trust Based Relational Intervention, and China. We took courses on Communication, Attachment Styles, and a four-part TBRI workshop. Lifeline requires a two day training for all families adopting internationally called Crossings, which we attended in November. If it was offered, I signed up. If it was recommended, I read it. I so deeply wanted to be ready, both for our son and my family, but also for myself.
Ready. I don’t know if you’re ever truly ready. Maybe the mamas who are true veterans, there and back again half a dozen times. For me, this was all still so very new.
I arrived home DESPERATELY thankful to be in the USA, and to feel the comforts of home. Many people long to explore the world...I am not one of those people. I wish I was. I wish I had a pinky toe worth of adventure in me, but vacation sounds like the beach in Florida or the mountains of Colorado. An adventure sounds like Hawaii or Europe. China was next level for me and my heart hungered for home.
But suddenly home didn’t really feel like home. There was an extra person and despite spending the last two weeks with him in country, i think we all suddenly became very aware just how much we were still strangers to one another. His cry was foreign to me. My voice was not soothing to him. We all arrived home to obvious jet lag (13 hour time difference, flying east to west is a b$:%# in ways I can’t explain) but also illness. Sam had a double ear infection. Joel had a cold and infections in both eyes. I had caught the cold that Sam had for a week in China the day before we left. The first four days home were unreal. I still can’t believe we survived. I assume the details will eventually fade and we will have some form of amnesia about the whole event...otherwise, no one would ever return to China a second, third, fourth time.
We saw glimpses of grief from Joel in China. Lack of appetite. Tantrums. Arriving home opened the flood gates. Our solid sleeper suddenly couldn’t sleep longer than 90 minutes without waking and transferring him out of our arms was akin to placing live bombs in a crib. He grieved so deeply at night, and it manifested in fits of crying so loud I thought he’d wake the neighbors. He was simultaneously desperate for us to hold him and furious that we were touching him. Nights were long and yet never, ever long enough. He seemed ravenous for food, but refused to eat all of the things he had eaten in China. He attacked crackers like it was the last food on earth, shoving them in his mouth while crying, yet completely without the ability to chew them. If I tried to slow him down, he interpreted it as me denying him food, which sent him even further over the edge.
We’ve been cocooning since we came home. Cocooning is a term used in the adoption community to describe a season of intensive care, in which the parents meet all of their new child’s needs. Interactions with people outside of the immediate family and the environments to which the child is exposed are very limited. When a family cocoons, they keep their new son or daughter’s world small, simple, and predictable. For us, that has looked like staying home 99% of the time. Joel has gone with me each day to drop Garrison off at daycare, but then the two of us return home. We’ve slowly started to open up his environment just a bit by eating out at some quick restaurants, visiting the park at low attendance times, and running errands to the grocery store. In the beginning, I wore him in an ergo anytime we ventured out. Now, he can ride in a cart or sit in a high chair, but he occasionally still needs a hug or kiss to settle down, other times, he just wants me to hold him. While it’s easy to look at him and think he’s almost two, he should be better capable to handle these situations, research says that it is far better to allow him to revert as far back to infancy as he wants. If he wants me to hold him in Target rather than ride in the cart, then that’s what we do.
Slowly, the tantrums have dwindled. The nights have held more sleeping than screaming. He’s trusting (sometimes) that there will be more food next time. He and Garrison are starting to play a bit more than they fight. When I think rationally about how much has changed in these nine weeks, I’m amazed. I couldn’t change the same amount about myself in nine weeks (just ask my therapist). But most of the time, my rational brain is foggy and I’m tired of the hard. While I know that the Lord calls us into the hard, and that the hard things in life are the ones that refine us, when I’m in the fire, I’m quick to think I have been refined enough.
I return to work after one more week, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful. Add that to the column of things I feel guilty about. I am simply not good at being a stay at home mom. You know the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder?” Well that absence is critical for me, for my mental health, for my ability to parent the way I want to. Feeling guilty about it doesn’t change it...these nine weeks have been a marathon battle of keeping my head in the game and my mind free from the tangled web of thoughts that can spin out of control. I’m praying that Joel can and will transition to daycare smoothly, and that the changes won’t set us back in terms of attachment.
I have to remind myself a half dozen times a day that our old normal is gone but that the present is not our new normal. This is a transition period, a hard one, but not a forever one. Six months from now, life will look and feel so very, very different. And while I long for our lives to feel normal again, I’m trying to remind myself just how quickly things change. Someday these photos and videos of Joel in these early days will be precious memories as time will have softened the details and we will have forgotten so much.
The days are long, but the years are short. Garrison is closer to kindergarten than he is to his birth, so while I may hunger for a bit for the comfort of normal, I know that these days are golden in their own way.
My greatest regret from my first adoption of Garrison three years ago was my lack of preparation. No one talked to us about attachment, or lack there of. No one said anything about caring for a premie. No one spoke a word about any of the things I was facing. Everyone spoke as if unicorns and rainbows had taken up residence in my home and heart. Oh God, how I wanted that to bet true, but the truth is that those first 6ish weeks with Garrison were indescribably hard. Add on to that the layers of guilt and self doubt from my years of infertility and I was spiraling down a dark hole fast. I didn’t know how to explain it to anyone and all everyone could see was that I finally had my baby, and everyone (myself included) assumed I’d be blissfully happy without a complaint in the world.
When we decided to adopt again, and internationally this time, I knew I needed preparation. I had an agency in mind that several close friends had used, but I decided to dig deeper and hunt for the best fit. I asked lots of people and called lots of agencies. We eventually landed with Lifeline in part because I was desperate for education and post-adoption support (I also believe in their ministry, they have a good reputation in the adoption community, and I love how willing the China Program Director is to answer all of my calls). I assumed at the very least that this adoption would be very different, but likely harder and I wanted to be ready.
We did buckets and buckets and hours and hours of training. Read books on adoption, attachment, Trust Based Relational Intervention, and China. We took courses on Communication, Attachment Styles, and a four-part TBRI workshop. Lifeline requires a two day training for all families adopting internationally called Crossings, which we attended in November. If it was offered, I signed up. If it was recommended, I read it. I so deeply wanted to be ready, both for our son and my family, but also for myself.
Ready. I don’t know if you’re ever truly ready. Maybe the mamas who are true veterans, there and back again half a dozen times. For me, this was all still so very new.
I arrived home DESPERATELY thankful to be in the USA, and to feel the comforts of home. Many people long to explore the world...I am not one of those people. I wish I was. I wish I had a pinky toe worth of adventure in me, but vacation sounds like the beach in Florida or the mountains of Colorado. An adventure sounds like Hawaii or Europe. China was next level for me and my heart hungered for home.
But suddenly home didn’t really feel like home. There was an extra person and despite spending the last two weeks with him in country, i think we all suddenly became very aware just how much we were still strangers to one another. His cry was foreign to me. My voice was not soothing to him. We all arrived home to obvious jet lag (13 hour time difference, flying east to west is a b$:%# in ways I can’t explain) but also illness. Sam had a double ear infection. Joel had a cold and infections in both eyes. I had caught the cold that Sam had for a week in China the day before we left. The first four days home were unreal. I still can’t believe we survived. I assume the details will eventually fade and we will have some form of amnesia about the whole event...otherwise, no one would ever return to China a second, third, fourth time.
We saw glimpses of grief from Joel in China. Lack of appetite. Tantrums. Arriving home opened the flood gates. Our solid sleeper suddenly couldn’t sleep longer than 90 minutes without waking and transferring him out of our arms was akin to placing live bombs in a crib. He grieved so deeply at night, and it manifested in fits of crying so loud I thought he’d wake the neighbors. He was simultaneously desperate for us to hold him and furious that we were touching him. Nights were long and yet never, ever long enough. He seemed ravenous for food, but refused to eat all of the things he had eaten in China. He attacked crackers like it was the last food on earth, shoving them in his mouth while crying, yet completely without the ability to chew them. If I tried to slow him down, he interpreted it as me denying him food, which sent him even further over the edge.
We’ve been cocooning since we came home. Cocooning is a term used in the adoption community to describe a season of intensive care, in which the parents meet all of their new child’s needs. Interactions with people outside of the immediate family and the environments to which the child is exposed are very limited. When a family cocoons, they keep their new son or daughter’s world small, simple, and predictable. For us, that has looked like staying home 99% of the time. Joel has gone with me each day to drop Garrison off at daycare, but then the two of us return home. We’ve slowly started to open up his environment just a bit by eating out at some quick restaurants, visiting the park at low attendance times, and running errands to the grocery store. In the beginning, I wore him in an ergo anytime we ventured out. Now, he can ride in a cart or sit in a high chair, but he occasionally still needs a hug or kiss to settle down, other times, he just wants me to hold him. While it’s easy to look at him and think he’s almost two, he should be better capable to handle these situations, research says that it is far better to allow him to revert as far back to infancy as he wants. If he wants me to hold him in Target rather than ride in the cart, then that’s what we do.
Slowly, the tantrums have dwindled. The nights have held more sleeping than screaming. He’s trusting (sometimes) that there will be more food next time. He and Garrison are starting to play a bit more than they fight. When I think rationally about how much has changed in these nine weeks, I’m amazed. I couldn’t change the same amount about myself in nine weeks (just ask my therapist). But most of the time, my rational brain is foggy and I’m tired of the hard. While I know that the Lord calls us into the hard, and that the hard things in life are the ones that refine us, when I’m in the fire, I’m quick to think I have been refined enough.
I return to work after one more week, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful. Add that to the column of things I feel guilty about. I am simply not good at being a stay at home mom. You know the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder?” Well that absence is critical for me, for my mental health, for my ability to parent the way I want to. Feeling guilty about it doesn’t change it...these nine weeks have been a marathon battle of keeping my head in the game and my mind free from the tangled web of thoughts that can spin out of control. I’m praying that Joel can and will transition to daycare smoothly, and that the changes won’t set us back in terms of attachment.
I have to remind myself a half dozen times a day that our old normal is gone but that the present is not our new normal. This is a transition period, a hard one, but not a forever one. Six months from now, life will look and feel so very, very different. And while I long for our lives to feel normal again, I’m trying to remind myself just how quickly things change. Someday these photos and videos of Joel in these early days will be precious memories as time will have softened the details and we will have forgotten so much.
The days are long, but the years are short. Garrison is closer to kindergarten than he is to his birth, so while I may hunger for a bit for the comfort of normal, I know that these days are golden in their own way.
Thursday, March 1, 2018
China: Part II
Well, he’s here! It’s been several long, hard days for all of us, but we are officially a family of four.
Meet Joel Guang Hua Greavu.
He is the sweetest little love and we can already tell he’s going to fit right into our family. We haven’t seen a ton of his personality yet, but the ayis (caretakers) at his children’s welfare institute described him as mischievous and playful. I imagine several months from now he and Garrison will be adding gray hairs to my head each day.
We arrived in Kunming, the provincial city of Yunnan on Sunday, February 25. In China, you typically meet your child in the provincial city (capital) of the province that the child is from. For us, those were the same thing as Joel was found in Kunming and taken to the local orphanage. It was absolutely surreal flying into the city knowing that this was the same city our boy was in, to know we were just miles away from him.
On Monday, we were expecting to travel to the Civil Affairs office with another family that is here to meet their daughter, but instead we learned that they would bring the babies to our hotel rooms. Such an incredibly long wait that afternoon, but then he was here and in our arms!
The first day was all about trying to help him stay calm and avoid too much fear. We held him, attempted to play with him, fed him. Understandably, he was pretty overwhelmed. We weren’t getting a ton of emotion from him. That evening we got some of our first smiles as Garrison brought a panda he had made at Build-a-Bear for him. They enjoyed tossing it around for a bit before bedtime and it was a great way to end the day.
The following 24 hours after you meet your child are known as the harmonious period in China. During this time, families can go through a procedure to disrupt the adoption before finalizing. After that period, the family completes paperwork to finalize the adoption in China. On Tuesday, we rode to the Civil Affairs office and completed our adoption of Joel and filed for his passport.
It takes several days to get the passport in Yunnan, so we have had several days to spend here. On Wednesday, we visited the Yunnan Nationalities Village. It’s basically a large outdoor space with separate areas for various ethnic minorities in China. It was so interesting! If I hadn’t had two tired, cranky boys in tow, I could have spent the entire day there. The space was gorgeous and it was so neat to see the various styles of architecture and cultural dress for the various ethnic minority groups of China.
Thursday was the hardest day by far. We returned with Joel to the orphanage and drove with our guide to see and document Joel’s finding spot. It was such a comfort to see how well cared for Joel was at the orphanage, but also soooooo hard to see how much he loved his ayis and how much they loved him. Everyone was a puddle of tears. It was a very difficult morning for me to see and know that this was likely the last time he’d ever see the people who cared for him for nineteen months of his life. I can’t really fathom how hard and confusing it was for him to see these two worlds merge. He struggled a lot more on Thursday. Lots and lots of crying. Lots of fear and grief manifesting in different ways. It was an incredibly exhausting day for all of us. I’m so thankful we got the opportunity to go, visit, and document the orphanage, but it was not an easy trip.
Today, we leave Kunming for Guangzhou. This is the city where the US Consulate is and all adopting families end up here to complete the paperwork to leave China with their adopted son/daughter. The child leaves a citizen of China, but when the plane touches down on US soil he/she becomes a citizen of the United States.
Guangzhou is the final leg of this journey. We arrive on Friday and leave the following Friday, so there is still quite a bit of this journey ahead of us. I’ll be honest and say I’m ready to be home. I’m not a great traveler even in the US, but China is next level. I’m incredibly thankful for the opportunity to be here and to soak in as much culture and make as many memories as possible, but I’m also simultaneously really ready to be home. I’m praying that the coming week will be full of opportunities to bond as a family and for Joel to begin to attach with us. Also praying Garrison will make it home without losing his ever-loving mind. : ) Let’s be real; gaining a little brother who can walk and talk and steal your mama over night is HARD!
Sunday, February 25, 2018
China: Part I
On the eve of Family Day, the day we meet our son, I am feeling about one million different things. Inadequate. Hopeful. Afraid. Excited. Anxious. Overwhelmed. Humbled. Oh, and tired. Tired, but not exhausted, so that’s an improvement.
We left Atlanta on Wednesday, February 21, to begin our (incredibly long) journey to China. My prayer going in was that I could walk away saying the travel wasn’t that bad, so that maybe I could work up the nerve to do it all again one day. Like most things, I think the anticipation is the worst part. It’s the fear that nearly swallows me whole sometimes, and I was certainly afraid. Travel was frustrating for sure. We flew a new (to us) airline in a different terminal. We learned mid-flight to Chicago that our seat arrangement had been changed without notifying us, so Sam no longer had extra leg room (he’s 6’9). I cried from fear and frustration and exhaustion that day, but my prayers were answered. It wasn’t that bad. Sure, I’d rather travel by floo powder, portkey, and certainly transporter, but until our technology catches up with our imaginations, international flights half way around the world are doable (I’d recommend a bottle of your favorite benzodiazepine).
We arrived in Beijing on Thursday, February 22, in the evening. As China is 13 hours ahead of home, our travel had taken approximately 18 hours all together, but it admittedly felt far closer to the 32 hours time led us to believe had elapsed. We were all exhausted. The first night I crashed, but then woke up about 3 a.m. My body could be tricked no longer. Despite how tired I was, my brain knew that it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon. This has maintained itself as a pretty regular pattern each night. I wake up sometime between 1-3 a.m. to just sit and process the day and I eventually fall asleep a few hours later for a final nap before myself or Garrison gives up and we start our day.
The Summer Palace was by far my favorite, probably for lots of reasons not the least of which is that it was more remote, has beautiful trees and lakes, and gave off a more peaceful feeling in comparison to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. The Summer Palace is also lavishly painted with murals along the Long Corridor. I could have spent days there learning about the paintings and the architecture and the various buildings.
On our second and last day in Beijing, we traveled outside of Beijing (well at least it felt like it) to visit the Mutianyu section of the Great Wall. Modern conveniences such as a bus half way up the mountain and a cable car up to the wall made this a totally doable day adventure, but even then, the wall was quite the workout. Also interesting to note that very little has been done in terms of safety features to prevent trips/falls etc. I likely noticed this in part as I was carrying Garrison in the ergo and feeling how insecure I felt on many of the staircases with no handrails. I kept thinking how something like this in the US would have been modified so much for the number of tourists that visit (because hello, lawsuit).
Today we were up bright and early to board a plane to Kunming. If you’re keeping track, that is plane ride number three. I’m half way through the six and that feels REALLY good. In no way am I going to be a fan of flying by the end of this, but maybe I’ll be just a teensy bit better.
Today is Garrison’s birthday. Birthdays are a big deal in our family. Sam and I usually both take off and do something fun for his birthday. Obviously, that couldn’t happen this year and it made me SO SAD. I felt so much guilt about today and the lack of focus on Garrison. Once we got to Kunming, we went to a park that is really close to our hotel. Garrison attracted people to him like birds to scraps of food. They were practically circling. Thankfully, so far he has been a champ about all of the attention. We let him explore the park a bit and bought him an ice cream cone, which of course didn’t really taste like ice cream. Bless him. I’m glad he’s not old enough to tell me what he thought of this birthday.
Tomorrow is the day. We leave at 2:30 to get to the civil affairs building where we will begin the paperwork process to finalize our adoption and meet our son. Thankfully, I’m too tired right now to stay up worrying. To be determined if the same proves true at 3:00 a.m
We left Atlanta on Wednesday, February 21, to begin our (incredibly long) journey to China. My prayer going in was that I could walk away saying the travel wasn’t that bad, so that maybe I could work up the nerve to do it all again one day. Like most things, I think the anticipation is the worst part. It’s the fear that nearly swallows me whole sometimes, and I was certainly afraid. Travel was frustrating for sure. We flew a new (to us) airline in a different terminal. We learned mid-flight to Chicago that our seat arrangement had been changed without notifying us, so Sam no longer had extra leg room (he’s 6’9). I cried from fear and frustration and exhaustion that day, but my prayers were answered. It wasn’t that bad. Sure, I’d rather travel by floo powder, portkey, and certainly transporter, but until our technology catches up with our imaginations, international flights half way around the world are doable (I’d recommend a bottle of your favorite benzodiazepine).
 |
| American Airlines-not my fave, but it was okay Also, note that flying up and over Canada is a much more enjoyable flight than across the Pacific Ocean. |
We arrived in Beijing on Thursday, February 22, in the evening. As China is 13 hours ahead of home, our travel had taken approximately 18 hours all together, but it admittedly felt far closer to the 32 hours time led us to believe had elapsed. We were all exhausted. The first night I crashed, but then woke up about 3 a.m. My body could be tricked no longer. Despite how tired I was, my brain knew that it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon. This has maintained itself as a pretty regular pattern each night. I wake up sometime between 1-3 a.m. to just sit and process the day and I eventually fall asleep a few hours later for a final nap before myself or Garrison gives up and we start our day.
On our first day here, we visited Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City, and the Summer Palace. My two biggest surprises were how many Chinese people were visiting. We were truly the only white people I saw for hours. I guess I expected more international travelers to such popular tourist locations. My second surprise was how deeply the Chinese people feel for Chairman Mao. He served as the the Chairman of the Communist Party of China from its establishment in 1949 until his death in 1976. The President of the United States in 1976 was Gerald Ford. I know that because I looked it up. And without reading the Wikipedia article, I couldn’t tell you one thing about the man, but the people of China seemed to genuinely love the man. On many occasions people were shouting things aloud that our guide translated as praise for Mao. It was so interesting to see even small children excited over this man. As a child, President Bush (the first one) came to my hometown. I was so very close in proximity the the President of the United States,and yet 20+ years later, I barely remember it and know next to nothing about him, but these children who were born some 30+ years after Mao died seemed to truly care deeply for him. So interesting.
 |
| Add caption |
The Summer Palace was by far my favorite, probably for lots of reasons not the least of which is that it was more remote, has beautiful trees and lakes, and gave off a more peaceful feeling in comparison to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. The Summer Palace is also lavishly painted with murals along the Long Corridor. I could have spent days there learning about the paintings and the architecture and the various buildings.
On our second and last day in Beijing, we traveled outside of Beijing (well at least it felt like it) to visit the Mutianyu section of the Great Wall. Modern conveniences such as a bus half way up the mountain and a cable car up to the wall made this a totally doable day adventure, but even then, the wall was quite the workout. Also interesting to note that very little has been done in terms of safety features to prevent trips/falls etc. I likely noticed this in part as I was carrying Garrison in the ergo and feeling how insecure I felt on many of the staircases with no handrails. I kept thinking how something like this in the US would have been modified so much for the number of tourists that visit (because hello, lawsuit).
 |
| Beijing is still cold, and therefore it's a pretty dreary landscape, plus the smog has a way of eating all the colors in the photos, but still, pretty amazing to see...and to imaging that this was just one tiny piece of the wall. |
Today we were up bright and early to board a plane to Kunming. If you’re keeping track, that is plane ride number three. I’m half way through the six and that feels REALLY good. In no way am I going to be a fan of flying by the end of this, but maybe I’ll be just a teensy bit better.
 |
| The view from the (very back row of) plane as we flew over Yunnan and came into Kunming. |
Today is Garrison’s birthday. Birthdays are a big deal in our family. Sam and I usually both take off and do something fun for his birthday. Obviously, that couldn’t happen this year and it made me SO SAD. I felt so much guilt about today and the lack of focus on Garrison. Once we got to Kunming, we went to a park that is really close to our hotel. Garrison attracted people to him like birds to scraps of food. They were practically circling. Thankfully, so far he has been a champ about all of the attention. We let him explore the park a bit and bought him an ice cream cone, which of course didn’t really taste like ice cream. Bless him. I’m glad he’s not old enough to tell me what he thought of this birthday.
Tomorrow is the day. We leave at 2:30 to get to the civil affairs building where we will begin the paperwork process to finalize our adoption and meet our son. Thankfully, I’m too tired right now to stay up worrying. To be determined if the same proves true at 3:00 a.m
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Why Don't You Just Adopt
Several days ago, someone asked if my opinion on adoption had changed over the years. Did I wish that we had adopted earlier instead of pursuing fertility treatments? Do I think more of my dear infertility sisters should adopt? Basically, am I in camp "Why Don't You just Adopt (Already)?"
Loaded questions right? I garbled out an answer about respecting everyone's journey and always being pro-adoption and pro-fertility treatments, but truthfully, my real feelings are much, much deeper and more complex. Far, far more complex than anyone wants to hear likely, but that's why blogs were invented, right? So it seemed fitting as I mulled over these questions and my answers for the last few days that I post this today. Why? Because four years ago today was my egg retrieval in Jacksonville, Florida. It honestly seems like an entire lifetime ago. I've learned so much, experienced so much since then.
When you are outspoken about your struggles with infertility, you will inevitably find kindhearted, well-meaning people who want to share their advice. Truthfully, I got just as much "Have you tried this herbal supplement/tea/product?" as I did the adoption question. All of the questions, though from a place of good intentions, eventually start to wear on you, but the adoption one, well, nothing seems to get an infertile girls hackles up quite like that one.
I'll be honest. I do wish more of my infertility sisters would be open to adoption, but not because that's the solution to infertility or because it's their responsibility to end the orphan crisis. Nope, nope, double nope. It is neither. I simply wish more people who struggle with infertility would be open to adoption because I truly believe that they can find happiness down that road. True, not second best, but blissful happiness through adoption. But I also wish more people with the ability to procreate like rabbits would also consider adoption.
For so many who struggle with infertility, I think the fear of giving up the genetic connection or the process of carrying the child just seems insurmountable. How could you possibly be happy without that? I don't know. I can tell you I was the first one to say that my desire to carry a child would NEVER go away. I just knew I could adopt ten kids and I'd still want to give birth with every fiber of being. And then I adopted one kid and the desire evaporated into thin air. It doesn't for everyone. I know quite a few adoptive moms who struggled with infertility who will be the first to tell you that the desire remained to feel their son or daughter kick, to experience child birth. But those same women would also say that even without that, they are unequivocally happy with their lives, their children, with their family.
Others may simply be afraid of adoption. Afraid of failed adoptions. Afraid of the process. Afraid of the costs. (Here, I'll pause to say that yes, both infertility treatments and adoption can cost A LOT of money. But for many, infertility treatments are, at least in part, covered by insurance. So yes, adoption can be quite a bit more costly then even multiple rounds of IVF, depending on what state you live in.) Still others may not be able to adopt. Typically, there's not a whole lot of say in who does and doesn't get to try infertility treatments. BMI and age are typically really the only questionable factors there, and truly, that's because the clinics want successes just as much as the patients. Successes mean more patients which means more money. But believe me, there is a whole panel of people who will access your ability to adopt a child, and some may simply know that they don't qualify.
So yes, I'm more than happy to encourage a seeking infertility sister (and really ANYONE) down the road of adoption, but, and it's a BIG but, I truly, truly, truly, with every fiber of my being believe it's not the answer to infertility. Adoption is simply not the one size fits all answer to infertility. It's just not. Adoption is the most complex and complicated world I have ever stepped foot in. While I would encourage anyone thinking about adoption to move forward even in the midst of their fears and concerns and all of the unknowns, I would halt anyone (infertile or otherwise) in their tracks if they aren't ready, willing, and able to dive into the deep end of adoption.
What does the deep end look like? It looks like trauma. It looks like parenting a child of another race in the middle of your little white suburbia. It looks like loss. It looks like sacrificing your own desires to show love and accept the desires of the birth/first family. It looks like anger. It looks like dealing with choices that you didn't make for your child, but that were made long before you were ever in the picture. It looks like confusion. It looks like understanding that time may not heal all wounds.
Is the deep end the place every adoptive parent ends up? No! Absolutely not! There are undoubtedly adoption experiences in which the child is healthy with absolutely no health issues from prenatal or pre-adoption experiences. There are certainly families that have happy, simple, peaceful relationships with the birth family. There are definitely children who grow up at peace with their adoption experience and their family. But these are not guaranteed experiences. NO MATTER WHAT. Not if you adopt at infant. Not if you adopt a girl. Not if you adopt a child that was never exposed to drugs/alcohol. Not if you adopt a boy. Not if you adopt a child of the same race. Not if you adopt a child from a different country. Not if you adopt an older child. There is no magic secret to "success." And if you are unwilling or unable to walk into the world of adoption knowing that you may plunge head first into the deep end, then you should walk away. And if you are unwilling or unable to walk into the adoption world knowing that the first few years may be only ankle deep, but that years from now you could be treading water in the deep, you should walk away.
Adoption is absolutely, without a doubt the single greatest thing about my life. I pray that the rest of my days on this earth are spent shouting the worth of orphans and vulnerable children around the world. It is my life's greatest honor to be an adoptive mama and I am THRILLED when others choose to join me, but that in no way means that I'm tossing out "Why don't you just adopt?" when someone is struggling with infertility. No. Uh-uh.
So that answers the last two questions, but what about the first one? Do I wish we'd chosen adoption earlier over infertility treatments? Do I regret our decision to pursue artificial reproductive technology? Honestly, in almost every way I do. Infertility treatments broke me. I look back on that season of life, and while I'm crazy thankful for the relationships I made and the things I learned, I do not like the person I was then. I was angry. I was bitter. I was sad. And that's not to blame treatments. My attitude is on me, but man the month after month of brokenheartedness, the roller coaster of emotions, always believing that the next thing/cycle/med/doctor might be the one...it was too much. At least for me. Other friends handled it like champions, so I don't say that to discourage anyone from trying, but I am not proud of the person I was back then. My faith was tested in ways that I couldn't imagine; I can't honestly say that I came out all that refined from the fire. I came out burnt crispy and confused. So yes, in many ways I wish I had gone counter to what most of my infertility sisters were doing and walked straight towards adoption.
However, that's really easy to say with hindsight. But with distance we begin to forget that it just wasn't that simple. Sam and I hadn't been married long enough, weren't old enough, didn't have enough income, etc. to adopt in almost every scenario when we started infertility treatments in January 2012. And on January 9, 2014 when they harvested eggs from my body with the hope of a child in the future, it seemed like it was absolutely the right choice for us. It didn't work, and so it's easy to say we were wrong, but I kind of wonder if in some ways I needed to walk all the way through infertility treatments to the very end. Maybe I was being more refined than I remember. I can tell you there was something earth-shattering, heartbreaking, and life-altering about receiving the phone call two days later in which we learned that our embryos were fragile, that they were dying. I realized with immense gravity just how little control I had. So yes, I regret the thousands upon thousands of dollars we spent on infertility treatments that failed. And I even regret losing so many of my years on fighting the battle of infertility treatments. But ultimately, if you believe in some sort of X had to happen so that Y was possible and that allowed for Z, well then I'm right where I am meant to be and I'm thankful that they wheeled me back to surgery four years ago today. On the cusp of being the mom of two stunningly beautiful children with heart-achingly beautiful stories, well I'd be afraid to rewrite even one word of the story, because this is as good as it gets.
Loaded questions right? I garbled out an answer about respecting everyone's journey and always being pro-adoption and pro-fertility treatments, but truthfully, my real feelings are much, much deeper and more complex. Far, far more complex than anyone wants to hear likely, but that's why blogs were invented, right? So it seemed fitting as I mulled over these questions and my answers for the last few days that I post this today. Why? Because four years ago today was my egg retrieval in Jacksonville, Florida. It honestly seems like an entire lifetime ago. I've learned so much, experienced so much since then.
When you are outspoken about your struggles with infertility, you will inevitably find kindhearted, well-meaning people who want to share their advice. Truthfully, I got just as much "Have you tried this herbal supplement/tea/product?" as I did the adoption question. All of the questions, though from a place of good intentions, eventually start to wear on you, but the adoption one, well, nothing seems to get an infertile girls hackles up quite like that one.
I'll be honest. I do wish more of my infertility sisters would be open to adoption, but not because that's the solution to infertility or because it's their responsibility to end the orphan crisis. Nope, nope, double nope. It is neither. I simply wish more people who struggle with infertility would be open to adoption because I truly believe that they can find happiness down that road. True, not second best, but blissful happiness through adoption. But I also wish more people with the ability to procreate like rabbits would also consider adoption.
For so many who struggle with infertility, I think the fear of giving up the genetic connection or the process of carrying the child just seems insurmountable. How could you possibly be happy without that? I don't know. I can tell you I was the first one to say that my desire to carry a child would NEVER go away. I just knew I could adopt ten kids and I'd still want to give birth with every fiber of being. And then I adopted one kid and the desire evaporated into thin air. It doesn't for everyone. I know quite a few adoptive moms who struggled with infertility who will be the first to tell you that the desire remained to feel their son or daughter kick, to experience child birth. But those same women would also say that even without that, they are unequivocally happy with their lives, their children, with their family.
Others may simply be afraid of adoption. Afraid of failed adoptions. Afraid of the process. Afraid of the costs. (Here, I'll pause to say that yes, both infertility treatments and adoption can cost A LOT of money. But for many, infertility treatments are, at least in part, covered by insurance. So yes, adoption can be quite a bit more costly then even multiple rounds of IVF, depending on what state you live in.) Still others may not be able to adopt. Typically, there's not a whole lot of say in who does and doesn't get to try infertility treatments. BMI and age are typically really the only questionable factors there, and truly, that's because the clinics want successes just as much as the patients. Successes mean more patients which means more money. But believe me, there is a whole panel of people who will access your ability to adopt a child, and some may simply know that they don't qualify.
So yes, I'm more than happy to encourage a seeking infertility sister (and really ANYONE) down the road of adoption, but, and it's a BIG but, I truly, truly, truly, with every fiber of my being believe it's not the answer to infertility. Adoption is simply not the one size fits all answer to infertility. It's just not. Adoption is the most complex and complicated world I have ever stepped foot in. While I would encourage anyone thinking about adoption to move forward even in the midst of their fears and concerns and all of the unknowns, I would halt anyone (infertile or otherwise) in their tracks if they aren't ready, willing, and able to dive into the deep end of adoption.
What does the deep end look like? It looks like trauma. It looks like parenting a child of another race in the middle of your little white suburbia. It looks like loss. It looks like sacrificing your own desires to show love and accept the desires of the birth/first family. It looks like anger. It looks like dealing with choices that you didn't make for your child, but that were made long before you were ever in the picture. It looks like confusion. It looks like understanding that time may not heal all wounds.
Is the deep end the place every adoptive parent ends up? No! Absolutely not! There are undoubtedly adoption experiences in which the child is healthy with absolutely no health issues from prenatal or pre-adoption experiences. There are certainly families that have happy, simple, peaceful relationships with the birth family. There are definitely children who grow up at peace with their adoption experience and their family. But these are not guaranteed experiences. NO MATTER WHAT. Not if you adopt at infant. Not if you adopt a girl. Not if you adopt a child that was never exposed to drugs/alcohol. Not if you adopt a boy. Not if you adopt a child of the same race. Not if you adopt a child from a different country. Not if you adopt an older child. There is no magic secret to "success." And if you are unwilling or unable to walk into the world of adoption knowing that you may plunge head first into the deep end, then you should walk away. And if you are unwilling or unable to walk into the adoption world knowing that the first few years may be only ankle deep, but that years from now you could be treading water in the deep, you should walk away.
Adoption is absolutely, without a doubt the single greatest thing about my life. I pray that the rest of my days on this earth are spent shouting the worth of orphans and vulnerable children around the world. It is my life's greatest honor to be an adoptive mama and I am THRILLED when others choose to join me, but that in no way means that I'm tossing out "Why don't you just adopt?" when someone is struggling with infertility. No. Uh-uh.
So that answers the last two questions, but what about the first one? Do I wish we'd chosen adoption earlier over infertility treatments? Do I regret our decision to pursue artificial reproductive technology? Honestly, in almost every way I do. Infertility treatments broke me. I look back on that season of life, and while I'm crazy thankful for the relationships I made and the things I learned, I do not like the person I was then. I was angry. I was bitter. I was sad. And that's not to blame treatments. My attitude is on me, but man the month after month of brokenheartedness, the roller coaster of emotions, always believing that the next thing/cycle/med/doctor might be the one...it was too much. At least for me. Other friends handled it like champions, so I don't say that to discourage anyone from trying, but I am not proud of the person I was back then. My faith was tested in ways that I couldn't imagine; I can't honestly say that I came out all that refined from the fire. I came out burnt crispy and confused. So yes, in many ways I wish I had gone counter to what most of my infertility sisters were doing and walked straight towards adoption.
However, that's really easy to say with hindsight. But with distance we begin to forget that it just wasn't that simple. Sam and I hadn't been married long enough, weren't old enough, didn't have enough income, etc. to adopt in almost every scenario when we started infertility treatments in January 2012. And on January 9, 2014 when they harvested eggs from my body with the hope of a child in the future, it seemed like it was absolutely the right choice for us. It didn't work, and so it's easy to say we were wrong, but I kind of wonder if in some ways I needed to walk all the way through infertility treatments to the very end. Maybe I was being more refined than I remember. I can tell you there was something earth-shattering, heartbreaking, and life-altering about receiving the phone call two days later in which we learned that our embryos were fragile, that they were dying. I realized with immense gravity just how little control I had. So yes, I regret the thousands upon thousands of dollars we spent on infertility treatments that failed. And I even regret losing so many of my years on fighting the battle of infertility treatments. But ultimately, if you believe in some sort of X had to happen so that Y was possible and that allowed for Z, well then I'm right where I am meant to be and I'm thankful that they wheeled me back to surgery four years ago today. On the cusp of being the mom of two stunningly beautiful children with heart-achingly beautiful stories, well I'd be afraid to rewrite even one word of the story, because this is as good as it gets.
Friday, December 29, 2017
Hurry Up and Wait
Whoa. Like serious whoa. I'd like for life to slow down just a bit, but I have a feeling it's not going to in the least. The last several weeks have been filled to the absolute brim. I'm pretty sure I could sleep for 24 hours straight right about now. I just completed the busiest season of the year at work, which is always a huge relief, but with maternity leave looming, I'm already preparing for time away. No rest for the weary.
In November, we took a few days off of work and traveled to Colorado. The purpose of the trip was to spread my father's ashes. He passed away last October and this trip had been in the works since then. Colorado is special to me, quite possibly the most special place on earth, and it was to my dad too. We were both born in Fort Collins, Colorado...it's one thing we had in common during seasons of life when I would have sworn that that was the only thing we shared. My relationship with my father was tenuous at best and volatile at worst during the last twenty years. He was a complicated man. We had not spoken in years and our last conversation was not one that I remember fondly. To find a happy memory, I must go further back to a conversation that, believe it or not, centered around Colorado. He wanted to take me skiing again. While I was far, far wiser as an adult and wary of getting my hopes up, I'll admit that the spark of childhood memories blossomed in me. The memories of skiing with my dad are undoubtedly some of the very best of my childhood. We never made that trip.
Taking my dad back to Colorado was important to me...hard, but in some way healing. It's a place that we uniquely shared. The longing for the mountains, well, I think it's something we will both keep for all the days of our lives. It was his and still is my wish to eventually move back to Colorado. This was my way of taking him home.
The trip was hard. My emotions ran hot and cold, but my anxiety was also high. It had been over seven and a half years since I had last flown, and wow. Let's just was my anxiety has not gotten better over the years. So yeah, I was an anxious, emotional mess trying to honor my dad and spend some quality time with my family while also analyzing how I'm seriously unprepared for 15 hour flights to and from China. It was a complicated week. The highlight was certainly getting Garrison out on the slopes. I don't know when or if my little family will make it back out to Colorado...life's about to get a whole heck of a lot messier and more chaotic, so it was really special that I got to see my little nugget doing what I so desperately loved as a child. I know he's likely too young that these memories will remain, but they will always be there for me, and for that I'm thankful. My mom and I made a few runs as well. It was cathartic really. For so many years it was mom and I against the world. It felt good to end the trip with a memory that we both shared from so long ago.
We returned from our trip and quickly got spun into the adoption journey again. On December 7, we were notified that our dossier was out of review. Basically, at that point, China had said yes to us as a family; we simply had to wait for them to say yes to our match with our son. We received our Letter of Acceptance on December 11, and since then it's been full steam ahead. But now, we wait. Soon we will be jumping through some more hoops. And then we'll wait. Rinse and repeat.
We are currently waiting on approval from US Citizenship and Immigration Services. If you remember hearing that before, it's because we've been here before. Basically, you apply the first time to adopt a child from a specific country, but the child in question is vague...just a general outline (boy/girl, age range, etc). Then you apply again for your specific child. We should have approval any day now. From here, there's a whole slew of acronyms and numbers that no one outside of the international adoption community would understand, but basically each is a step in the process to receiving approval from China to travel. We must have approval before we can truly schedule our trip.
Estimates on travel right now are March, with an early estimate that we could meet our son on February 26...well except that I work for a church. It's a long story, but visas are becoming more and more complicated to procure and due to my place of employment, our travel could be delayed by two-ish weeks. Believe me, that's a tough place to sit. To know that your child is spending additional nights in an orphanage, even if it's a great one with loving ayis and exceptional care, is really, really hard. And so we wait. And then we sprint to jump over the next hurdle. And then we wait. Slowly but surely, we're inching closer to our boy.
Christmas this year was a little hard. I felt a lot of guilt about celebrating while our son sleeps in an orphanage each night. I didn't know the right way to honor him and still celebrate with the family that we have here. I didn't want to diminish Garrison's Christmas or sit around pouting and bemoaning what we don't have in the midst of a season of great joy and hope. Thursday, December 21, was the winter solstice and as such it was the longest night. It was a poignant moment for me as I reflected that for both my son and I, the days are getting longer, the nights are getting shorter, and with each turn of the earth, we are one day closer to one another. We ended up ordering his stocking and hanging it with ours. He received a few small gifts in his stocking just like Garrison. To help Garrison understand that his brother is a real, live person and not just an imaginary friend, we packed up all of his gifts and mailed them to him. Hopefully he receives his package in the coming weeks and on some lever knows that he is loved and his family is coming for him, racing the sun to hold him.
We're still about $7,000 away from our total for adoption expenses, and we have about eight weeks to get there. I'd tell you that this seems insurmountable, but truthfully, we've been here before. I've seen everything fall into place in ways I couldn't possibly have dreamed up. I'm trusting that though this is out of my hands, it is not out of His control. In the coming days, we will make preparations to add another son to our home, both with the addition of a new carseat and the purging of closets, but also space in our hearts for this new gift. The journey to him has already been long, complex, and difficult, but I have a feeling we're just getting started. The real journey is just beginning.
In November, we took a few days off of work and traveled to Colorado. The purpose of the trip was to spread my father's ashes. He passed away last October and this trip had been in the works since then. Colorado is special to me, quite possibly the most special place on earth, and it was to my dad too. We were both born in Fort Collins, Colorado...it's one thing we had in common during seasons of life when I would have sworn that that was the only thing we shared. My relationship with my father was tenuous at best and volatile at worst during the last twenty years. He was a complicated man. We had not spoken in years and our last conversation was not one that I remember fondly. To find a happy memory, I must go further back to a conversation that, believe it or not, centered around Colorado. He wanted to take me skiing again. While I was far, far wiser as an adult and wary of getting my hopes up, I'll admit that the spark of childhood memories blossomed in me. The memories of skiing with my dad are undoubtedly some of the very best of my childhood. We never made that trip.
Taking my dad back to Colorado was important to me...hard, but in some way healing. It's a place that we uniquely shared. The longing for the mountains, well, I think it's something we will both keep for all the days of our lives. It was his and still is my wish to eventually move back to Colorado. This was my way of taking him home.
The trip was hard. My emotions ran hot and cold, but my anxiety was also high. It had been over seven and a half years since I had last flown, and wow. Let's just was my anxiety has not gotten better over the years. So yeah, I was an anxious, emotional mess trying to honor my dad and spend some quality time with my family while also analyzing how I'm seriously unprepared for 15 hour flights to and from China. It was a complicated week. The highlight was certainly getting Garrison out on the slopes. I don't know when or if my little family will make it back out to Colorado...life's about to get a whole heck of a lot messier and more chaotic, so it was really special that I got to see my little nugget doing what I so desperately loved as a child. I know he's likely too young that these memories will remain, but they will always be there for me, and for that I'm thankful. My mom and I made a few runs as well. It was cathartic really. For so many years it was mom and I against the world. It felt good to end the trip with a memory that we both shared from so long ago.
We returned from our trip and quickly got spun into the adoption journey again. On December 7, we were notified that our dossier was out of review. Basically, at that point, China had said yes to us as a family; we simply had to wait for them to say yes to our match with our son. We received our Letter of Acceptance on December 11, and since then it's been full steam ahead. But now, we wait. Soon we will be jumping through some more hoops. And then we'll wait. Rinse and repeat.
We are currently waiting on approval from US Citizenship and Immigration Services. If you remember hearing that before, it's because we've been here before. Basically, you apply the first time to adopt a child from a specific country, but the child in question is vague...just a general outline (boy/girl, age range, etc). Then you apply again for your specific child. We should have approval any day now. From here, there's a whole slew of acronyms and numbers that no one outside of the international adoption community would understand, but basically each is a step in the process to receiving approval from China to travel. We must have approval before we can truly schedule our trip.
Estimates on travel right now are March, with an early estimate that we could meet our son on February 26...well except that I work for a church. It's a long story, but visas are becoming more and more complicated to procure and due to my place of employment, our travel could be delayed by two-ish weeks. Believe me, that's a tough place to sit. To know that your child is spending additional nights in an orphanage, even if it's a great one with loving ayis and exceptional care, is really, really hard. And so we wait. And then we sprint to jump over the next hurdle. And then we wait. Slowly but surely, we're inching closer to our boy.
Christmas this year was a little hard. I felt a lot of guilt about celebrating while our son sleeps in an orphanage each night. I didn't know the right way to honor him and still celebrate with the family that we have here. I didn't want to diminish Garrison's Christmas or sit around pouting and bemoaning what we don't have in the midst of a season of great joy and hope. Thursday, December 21, was the winter solstice and as such it was the longest night. It was a poignant moment for me as I reflected that for both my son and I, the days are getting longer, the nights are getting shorter, and with each turn of the earth, we are one day closer to one another. We ended up ordering his stocking and hanging it with ours. He received a few small gifts in his stocking just like Garrison. To help Garrison understand that his brother is a real, live person and not just an imaginary friend, we packed up all of his gifts and mailed them to him. Hopefully he receives his package in the coming weeks and on some lever knows that he is loved and his family is coming for him, racing the sun to hold him.
We're still about $7,000 away from our total for adoption expenses, and we have about eight weeks to get there. I'd tell you that this seems insurmountable, but truthfully, we've been here before. I've seen everything fall into place in ways I couldn't possibly have dreamed up. I'm trusting that though this is out of my hands, it is not out of His control. In the coming days, we will make preparations to add another son to our home, both with the addition of a new carseat and the purging of closets, but also space in our hearts for this new gift. The journey to him has already been long, complex, and difficult, but I have a feeling we're just getting started. The real journey is just beginning.
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
Baby Greavu #2
Weeks ago I announced that we have pre-approval for our sweet, little guy in China. Not a whole heck of a lot has changed since then as we got stuck waiting on our approval from USCIS. It finally arrived after 72 days. Once we received that approval, we had it authenticated as quickly as possible. On Monday, October 30, our dossier was officially sent to China. A dossier is a compilation of documents gathered to give the Chinese government a blueprint of who we are. It includes our birth certificates, marriage certificates, financial records, medical records, police and FBI clearances, photos, and our home study. Praise God, as now the majority or our paperwork is complete! DTC (literally dossier-to-China) is a BIG step in the adoption process!
Our next step will be to get logged in the CCCWA. For many, LID is a very important mark in the journey. This is the point at which your agency can begin the process of matching you with a special needs child. As we already have pre-approval for our little guy, LID isn't quite that big of a deal, but still comforting to know that our paperwork has been received. Our next big hurdle will be to receive our Letter of Acceptance (LOA). This represents our formal acceptance of our match with our little one and is necessary to file immigration paperwork that allows for US citizenship. Our number one question we receive right now is "when will we travel?" and at this point, our best estimate is March or April. We should have a better estimate for travel windows once we receive our LOA.
So those are the details on the timeline and where we stand in the process. What I really want to tell you about is Baby Greavu #2. Now admittedly, as he's already 16 months old, he's not technically a baby, but I still call Garrison baby at 32 months, so I'm fine with the title of "baby." I'm anxiously awaiting the point when I can request another update on our sweet guy, but for now, I just re-read his file when I'm feeling the need. The information in his file is dated from February of this year, when he was about eight months old. At that time he could keep his head stable when supported, raise his head off the bed, track moving objects, and gaze at people. He laughed loudly if being teased and felt happy when seeing food and expressed a desire to eat. He is described as extroverted, active, ready to smile. They report he likes listening to music, likes being cuddled, and will cry loudly when he is unhappy. As you can see, we don't know a whole lot. My most favorite thing in the report is that it is noted that he is a deep sleeper...welcome to the Greavu family, buddy. You are going to fit it just fine. This mama LOVES good sleepers!
He is now 16 months old, and I know sooooo much could have changed since then. We got a few updated photos when we were reviewing his file, but even that was months ago. At that age, they seem to change every week, so I will admit that it's hard. I know we're missing out on some really sweet moments. My absolute favorite months with Garrison were about 13-18 months old, and I know we will miss all of those. However, we are over the moon to welcome him home next year. We are busy preparing, fundraising, cleaning out closets, sorting boxes of boy clothes. I'm painting the guest bedroom and we're trying to figure out when to switch Garrison over to his big boy bed (his crib will go to his brother). I will definitely say that I feel the nesting desire this time around. It's a weird feeling, one that I've never experienced before. I'm probably already driving Sam crazy, but things. must. get. done. The next few months feel big. Really important. Preparing our hearts, our home, Garrison, school, church, friends, and family for all that is about to change in our world. I'm both scared of messing up, of making the wrong choice, or not doing the right thing or reading the right book, and at peace with the fact that we're entering into the unknown. Learning to do the right thing is just going to take some time and figuring out who our little guy is.
We are thankful for all the prayers, donations, and love that we have received thus far in our journey. I cannot wait to share more about Baby Greavu #2 with you in the coming months. And hopefully, by that time, he'll have a name.
Our next step will be to get logged in the CCCWA. For many, LID is a very important mark in the journey. This is the point at which your agency can begin the process of matching you with a special needs child. As we already have pre-approval for our little guy, LID isn't quite that big of a deal, but still comforting to know that our paperwork has been received. Our next big hurdle will be to receive our Letter of Acceptance (LOA). This represents our formal acceptance of our match with our little one and is necessary to file immigration paperwork that allows for US citizenship. Our number one question we receive right now is "when will we travel?" and at this point, our best estimate is March or April. We should have a better estimate for travel windows once we receive our LOA.
So those are the details on the timeline and where we stand in the process. What I really want to tell you about is Baby Greavu #2. Now admittedly, as he's already 16 months old, he's not technically a baby, but I still call Garrison baby at 32 months, so I'm fine with the title of "baby." I'm anxiously awaiting the point when I can request another update on our sweet guy, but for now, I just re-read his file when I'm feeling the need. The information in his file is dated from February of this year, when he was about eight months old. At that time he could keep his head stable when supported, raise his head off the bed, track moving objects, and gaze at people. He laughed loudly if being teased and felt happy when seeing food and expressed a desire to eat. He is described as extroverted, active, ready to smile. They report he likes listening to music, likes being cuddled, and will cry loudly when he is unhappy. As you can see, we don't know a whole lot. My most favorite thing in the report is that it is noted that he is a deep sleeper...welcome to the Greavu family, buddy. You are going to fit it just fine. This mama LOVES good sleepers!
 |
| Photo from his original file |
He is now 16 months old, and I know sooooo much could have changed since then. We got a few updated photos when we were reviewing his file, but even that was months ago. At that age, they seem to change every week, so I will admit that it's hard. I know we're missing out on some really sweet moments. My absolute favorite months with Garrison were about 13-18 months old, and I know we will miss all of those. However, we are over the moon to welcome him home next year. We are busy preparing, fundraising, cleaning out closets, sorting boxes of boy clothes. I'm painting the guest bedroom and we're trying to figure out when to switch Garrison over to his big boy bed (his crib will go to his brother). I will definitely say that I feel the nesting desire this time around. It's a weird feeling, one that I've never experienced before. I'm probably already driving Sam crazy, but things. must. get. done. The next few months feel big. Really important. Preparing our hearts, our home, Garrison, school, church, friends, and family for all that is about to change in our world. I'm both scared of messing up, of making the wrong choice, or not doing the right thing or reading the right book, and at peace with the fact that we're entering into the unknown. Learning to do the right thing is just going to take some time and figuring out who our little guy is.
 |
| Updated photo from the end of July. |
Thursday, September 28, 2017
Love Crosses Oceans
Man guys, I was doing so good. Three posts in two months was like some kind of record, and then life exploded and the blog fell to the wayside. And it's in no way because I don't have things to tell you. I absolutely intend to blog about my trip to Indiana. Literally a dream come true. But today, I want to try to catch everyone up on where we are with the adoption.
When I last updated, we had just announced our adoption. In some ways, a ton of things have happened since then and in other ways, nothing at all. The China adoption process is kind of hard to explain to someone who is not familiar with it, but basically there are two routes you can take. Currently, children in China are divided into two groups by the China Center for Children's Welfare and Adoption (CCCWA). One group, known as Special Needs, is typically younger children with more mild and correctable special needs. To match with a child on the Special Needs list, a family has to have already submitted their dossier (think giant packet of all your information) to China. The other group is known as Special Focus. Children in this group typically have move moderate to severe special needs or they are older. A family can match with a child on the Special Focus list at any time, even before they have completed their home study.
Since we were open to children on the Special Focus list, we were able to view waiting children from the very beginning. For me, this has absolutely been the hardest part. There are hundreds of children on these lists just waiting. How on earth are you supposed to decide which files to review? Or which files to submit for a doctor's opinion? How do you know when you see your son or daughter? I realized very, very quickly that I was not up for this. I could not review file after file. China legally only allows for the adoption of one child at a time now, so no matter how badly I wanted to scoop up several little ones, I could not. These were the moments that Andy Stanley's well known phrase "Do for one what you wish you could do for everyone" came into laser focus for me.
Late in the summer we received a file for a beautiful little boy. His file was slim. A few photos. One precious video. We decided to have an International Adoption Clinic review the file. These doctors work fast, but man the wait is excruciating. After careful prayer, discussion, and research we submitted our letter of intent to adopt this little guy:
The one thing that we can do while we wait is work towards funding our adoption. Earlier this week we received approval from Lifesong for Orphans. We can now accept tax-deductible donations. There are two ways to give. The easiest way is online of course (just follow the link). Online donations are processed by STRIPE with a 2.2% + $.30 fee per transaction....Just FYI. You may also donate by mailing a check and indicating our family account in the memo line (Greavu 7212). In accordance with IRS guidelines, donations are to Lifesong for Orphans. This organization retains full discretion over its use, but intends to honor the your suggested use. Basically, if you denote our family when you give, 100% of the funds received by Lifesong will be placed into our family's account with Lifesong and then transferred directly to our agency for payment.
We're expecting our adoption to cost north of $37,000. We've spent about $17,000 of our personal funds that we had saved for the adoption over the last two years (thanks adoption tax credit) which leaves us with about $20,000. For Garrison's adoption we did a puzzle fundraiser. The puzzle hangs framed in his room as a tender reminder of everyone who helped us bring him home. Because I'm all about keeping things even and fair for the second child (you'd think I was scarred by not being born first), we'll do a puzzle fundraiser this time too. I've ordered a 1,000 piece puzzle that Sam is so eager to put together (love you, babe). With a $20,000 goal and 1,000 pieces, the math is pretty simple. $20 gets you a puzzle piece, $40 gets you two, and so on.
As always, we are so grateful to everyone for the extreme kindness and generosity that has been shown to our family throughout this journey. We truly could not do this without the help of so many. We cannot wait to welcome our precious son into his forever family!
When I last updated, we had just announced our adoption. In some ways, a ton of things have happened since then and in other ways, nothing at all. The China adoption process is kind of hard to explain to someone who is not familiar with it, but basically there are two routes you can take. Currently, children in China are divided into two groups by the China Center for Children's Welfare and Adoption (CCCWA). One group, known as Special Needs, is typically younger children with more mild and correctable special needs. To match with a child on the Special Needs list, a family has to have already submitted their dossier (think giant packet of all your information) to China. The other group is known as Special Focus. Children in this group typically have move moderate to severe special needs or they are older. A family can match with a child on the Special Focus list at any time, even before they have completed their home study.
Since we were open to children on the Special Focus list, we were able to view waiting children from the very beginning. For me, this has absolutely been the hardest part. There are hundreds of children on these lists just waiting. How on earth are you supposed to decide which files to review? Or which files to submit for a doctor's opinion? How do you know when you see your son or daughter? I realized very, very quickly that I was not up for this. I could not review file after file. China legally only allows for the adoption of one child at a time now, so no matter how badly I wanted to scoop up several little ones, I could not. These were the moments that Andy Stanley's well known phrase "Do for one what you wish you could do for everyone" came into laser focus for me.
Late in the summer we received a file for a beautiful little boy. His file was slim. A few photos. One precious video. We decided to have an International Adoption Clinic review the file. These doctors work fast, but man the wait is excruciating. After careful prayer, discussion, and research we submitted our letter of intent to adopt this little guy:
 |
| No, I cannot explain to you what he's wearing. #becauseChina He's just a babe in this photo, but he actually turned 15 months in September. |
A few days later we received pre-approval (PA) from the CCCWA to adopt him! We are officially matched with this little love and working feverishly to bring him home.
 |
| Garrison is thoroughly confused and has to decided to ask for a sister instead. |
In some ways, it felt like things were flying...our home study was approved, our dossier documents were in route, we received pre-approval all within a few short weeks. I was already trying to count the weeks until we could travel. And then I discovered the real work of international adoption: waiting.
We are currently waiting for our I800-A approval. Never heard of it? Yeah, I hadn't either. The I800-A is the Application for Determination of Suitability to Adopt a Child from a Convention Country. It is processed by U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS). We are currently on day 56 of waiting for approval. Once we are approved, we will send our dossier to China (DTC) and the CCCWA will officially log our dossier into their database (known as LID). From that date, we can estimate approximately 4.5 months until we will travel. I should be a gold medalist in waiting by now, but weirdly enough, I never got any better.
The one thing that we can do while we wait is work towards funding our adoption. Earlier this week we received approval from Lifesong for Orphans. We can now accept tax-deductible donations. There are two ways to give. The easiest way is online of course (just follow the link). Online donations are processed by STRIPE with a 2.2% + $.30 fee per transaction....Just FYI. You may also donate by mailing a check and indicating our family account in the memo line (Greavu 7212). In accordance with IRS guidelines, donations are to Lifesong for Orphans. This organization retains full discretion over its use, but intends to honor the your suggested use. Basically, if you denote our family when you give, 100% of the funds received by Lifesong will be placed into our family's account with Lifesong and then transferred directly to our agency for payment.
We're expecting our adoption to cost north of $37,000. We've spent about $17,000 of our personal funds that we had saved for the adoption over the last two years (thanks adoption tax credit) which leaves us with about $20,000. For Garrison's adoption we did a puzzle fundraiser. The puzzle hangs framed in his room as a tender reminder of everyone who helped us bring him home. Because I'm all about keeping things even and fair for the second child (you'd think I was scarred by not being born first), we'll do a puzzle fundraiser this time too. I've ordered a 1,000 piece puzzle that Sam is so eager to put together (love you, babe). With a $20,000 goal and 1,000 pieces, the math is pretty simple. $20 gets you a puzzle piece, $40 gets you two, and so on.
 |
| Our sweet boy lives in Kunming, which is in southern China, just north of Laos and Thailand. |
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
So, Why Adoption...Again?
Once upon a time, we made a plan. Sam and I said we'd adopt and then we'd return to Jacksonville, Florida for our remaining embryos. And yet, here we are, right smack in the middle of an international adoption. I'll be honest, I feel that tension. The reality of embryos sitting in a freezer in Florida with my name on them is a heavy burden...most days, that's exactly how it feels. But let me back up.
Adopting Garrison was quite possibly the single greatest, most defining event in my life. I feel like an entirely different person now. It feels accurate to divide my life in two, BG (before Garrison) and AG (after Garrison). Now part of that is certainly simply taking on the role of mother. That in and of itself changes every woman whether she expects it and welcomes it or not. Something simply shifts when you become a mom. But for me, it goes far beyond that. Adopting rocked my world on every level. It often feels as if it quite literally shattered my heart. For me, adoption was no longer about family building, instead it became about orphan care. I thought I cared about the orphan before, but now I think about the orphans on a daily basis and my heart breaks for the fatherless.
Another thing that changed for me after adopting was my desire to get pregnant and give birth. Some women adopt and still long for the experience of pregnancy and birth...it doesn't diminish their love for their children who were adopted, but it remains a desire for them. Others no longer carry that dream after adopting. I was 100% sure I'd be in the former camp. There was absolutely no way my desire to carry a child and give birth could ever go away...the desire was just too strong. And then a funny thing happen. I woke up one day and realized it was 100% gone. I say that and I think people thing I'm joking or just trying to be positive. Nope. Dead serious. In fact, I'd prefer NOT to ever get pregnant. For real. The only desire that remains for me is for healing. I still desire the answer to my prayers. I still desire for the Lord to reach down and heal me, not because I want to be pregnant or have a biological child, but because I'd love for that to be a part of my story. Does that make sense? Honestly, what I'd really love is to wake up one day with the knowledge that God had healed me and then I'd never test Him on it. "Cool. Thanks. I appreciate that. Now I'd like to not get pregnant, mmm-kay? Thanks." that's how I imagine our conversation would go.
Another thing that changed for me after adopting was my desire to get pregnant and give birth. Some women adopt and still long for the experience of pregnancy and birth...it doesn't diminish their love for their children who were adopted, but it remains a desire for them. Others no longer carry that dream after adopting. I was 100% sure I'd be in the former camp. There was absolutely no way my desire to carry a child and give birth could ever go away...the desire was just too strong. And then a funny thing happen. I woke up one day and realized it was 100% gone. I say that and I think people thing I'm joking or just trying to be positive. Nope. Dead serious. In fact, I'd prefer NOT to ever get pregnant. For real. The only desire that remains for me is for healing. I still desire the answer to my prayers. I still desire for the Lord to reach down and heal me, not because I want to be pregnant or have a biological child, but because I'd love for that to be a part of my story. Does that make sense? Honestly, what I'd really love is to wake up one day with the knowledge that God had healed me and then I'd never test Him on it. "Cool. Thanks. I appreciate that. Now I'd like to not get pregnant, mmm-kay? Thanks." that's how I imagine our conversation would go.
And that my friends is a really interesting place to sit with four embryos in the freezer. In fact, it's a kind of yucky place to sit. I have these embryos that I feel responsible for, and yet, I don't really want to transfer them at this point. Yuck, right? I told you, it's not a good place to sit. We personally don't believe in discarding them or donating them to research and they are far, far too poor of quality to donate. The reality is that the odds are high that I will not get pregnant from the embryos. We know that and the doctors have agreed. We went down and spoke with the doctors at FIRM almost two years ago and they confirmed that the odds were low. Not non-existent, but low...I tend to lower the percentages of any Reproductive Endocrinologist a good twenty percent, so we're talking seriously low. So why won't I just transfer them and be done with it? Well, because it feels pretty gross to think about taking meds and stepping back on to the roller coaster all to hope that it doesn't work. Ewww. It's not the same as just hoping the pregnancy test will be negative after unprotected sex, at least, it's not the same to me. It's hoping that the embryos don't survive. Ughh. That's tough. And until I can get my head in a place where I am open and receptive to a pregnancy, I don't feel good about opening that door again. Until I can say that I'm at least open to the idea of a pregnancy, I don't want to step anywhere near the roller coaster that is infertility treatments, let alone strap myself in.
So that's one part of it; I don't really want to be pregnant. The other part is that I desperately want to adopt again. Adoption is absolutely, without a doubt NOT the only way that we can care for orphans. In fact, I feel so very strongly that orphan care does not, cannot begin with adoption. Orphan care starts with orphan prevention. But, with that being said, I do believe in adoption. I believe that "God sets the lonely in families." I believe that believers are called to care for the orphan. And while I do not believe that it is the responsibility of the infertile couple to step torward for adoption, I do believe that infertility is a part of my story so that I would be directed towards the path of orphan care.
Over the last several years, I've followed several adoptive mamas on Instagram and as I thought and prayed and researched, I felt a strong desire to adopt from China, specifically from the waiting child list. We are overjoyed at the prospect of adopting a child with special needs into our home and we are thrilled to bring a child from China into our home and call them son or daughter. Truly, this is our plan A at this point and we could not be more excited for this opportunity!
Over the last several years, I've followed several adoptive mamas on Instagram and as I thought and prayed and researched, I felt a strong desire to adopt from China, specifically from the waiting child list. We are overjoyed at the prospect of adopting a child with special needs into our home and we are thrilled to bring a child from China into our home and call them son or daughter. Truly, this is our plan A at this point and we could not be more excited for this opportunity!
With that said, we do still plan to return to Jacksonville following this adoption. I don't know what that looks like or how I can move from where I am today to a place of desiring a pregnancy without falling back into the crazy. I'm not sure exactly what steps I need to take to get my head on straight in terms of infertility treatments, pregnancy, biological children...all of that, but I know that I'm willing to take the steps to be ready and I know that we are committed to seeing that our embryos have the chance we promised them over three years ago. For now, we wait and pray that the Lord will bring us to and through the Chinese adoption experience. We are excited for the days, week, months, and even years ahead.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)