The consult

Okay first of all, how cute are they?!  I can't think of two kids I'd rather spend my morning with.  Even if it has to be on the third floor of Children's Hospital.

On Tuesday we met with the heart surgeon who will be performing their initial heart surgeries, via catheter. 

Provided it goes well, he will fix Tigist's defect once and for all during this procedure. 

For Mekdes, it will be purely diagnostic--seeing how much pressure has built up in her lungs, and to see if she is even a candidate for open heart surgery, which she so desperately needs. 


Provided there are no complications, this should be an overnight stay for both girls, at most.  No biggie.  The surgeon seemed all confident-ish and he has a niece from Ethiopia, so he was excited to meet my daughters.

I also completed the consent portion of the proceedings--where I sat and listened to a nurse explain the risks of the procedures. 

Sigh. 

Not fun having to hear a long list of scary things, ending with "possible fatal outcomes".  I go back and forth between hopeful optimism, and thoughts like I'm so glad we had family pictures done..., between knowing that the surgeon does this particular surgery all the time, and how can I subject my sweet daughters and their most vital of organs to these awful risks?  Ack.

As for my other kids, they are rockstars.  Got up extra early, on purpose, to help out and see their sisters off.  Anna had wanted to come along again, but she's getting over a cold.  So that morning when she asked to get Mekdes dressed and I said "no, go back to sleep and get some rest!", she said very seriously "Mom, I want to do SOMEthing to help."  I'm just so proud of my oldest daughter.  No words to describe her heart.  None.

And so at 8 am that morning, the five kids gathered around their sisters as Kevin and I looked on.  So they could cheer for and hug and kiss them--sending them off with much fanfare.  For a consult. 

Be still my ever-breaking, perpetually-melting heart.  Oh, how they have fallen head-over-heels-in-love with their dear sisters.  The support and grace and love they have shown is incredible.  And I would not even have believed it possible were I not witnessing it with my very own (teary!) eyes.

New miracles, in my house.

Every.single.day.

And Mekdes?  Still the bravest girl in the whole-wide-world.  A consult with a heart surgeon at the hospital?  No big deal.  I'm just gonna hang out with my mom and sister and smile really big.

And sing my ABCs.  (I like to cheer for myself when I'm done, because I'm awesome.)

As for Tigist?  Well, do you see that face?  Um, yeah.  So happy.  So sweet.  (And so cute that I'll forgive her for pooping while I was talking to the Very Important Heart Surgeon.  Come to think of it, I've never had a heart surgeon watch me change a poopy diaper before Tuesday.  Kind of exciting.)

She also spent time cleaning the wall.  Because she's kind of a big deal like that.

And looking at books with her sister.  About a creepy version of Santa Claus. 


A scheduler will call in a few days to set up the surgeries, which cannot be done until the girls have successfully conquered giardia.  (At which time there will be much rejoicing, and I may even throw a party to celebrate.  So.not.joking.)  Which means we're probably three to four weeks out or so.

I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for reading along and for your prayers and encouragement!  I'll let you know once the surgeries are scheduled.  And in the meantime, let me just say that life is sweet, each and every moment is so precious, and my daughters are doing really, really well. 

Miracles, I tell you. 

Can you love Down syndrome?

In case you didn't know, we now have two children--yes, two!--with Trisomy 21.

Otherwise known as Down syndrome.

Which obviously falls under the "special needs" umbrella, but the funny thing is, I don't really think of my daughters as having special needs.

At all.

Is that weird?

Am I stepping on some sort of landmine here when I say that?  (Gosh, I hope not.)

I mean I know they have some medical issues that are a result of Down syndrome.  Both girls need heart surgery, and Mekdes also has a thyroid hormone disorder that will require lifelong treatment.  I get that.  All out-of-the-ordinary stuff, to be sure.  Stuff that I desperately wish were not the case.

And I know they have some cognitive delays.  It may take them a little longer to learn to read and write.

And one of them has some physical delays for which we're seeking early intervention.  (If they'll ever either answer their phones, or call me back.)

But kids WITHOUT Down syndrome are born with heart defects...thyroid problems...learning delays.

So I'm thinking through all this and processing what "being a mom to children with Down syndrome" means for me.  And so far? 

So far it means I have two sweet little girls who are pretty much all-around awesome!

Mekdes isn't a "special needs kid"--she's Mekdes!

Tigist isn't a "Down syndrome person"--she's Tigist!

And let's face it: each and every one of my children, biological or adopted, chromosomal abnormality or not, has unique and special needs.  Things that they need help or encouragement with, or ways that they need me, or ways in which they are, simply, special. 

Please hear me when I say that I don't mean to trivialize any of the challenges that people with Trisomy 21 face throughout their lives.  (My children included.  And, there will be challenges.)  I don't attempt to speak for any other mama, especially the mamas blessed with biological children with Down syndrome.  I have not endured the trauma of mourning the loss of what I believed was a healthy baby, nor have I spent time with my newborn in the NICU.  Each family will have their own dynamic and own way of understanding and processing the way Down syndrome plays out in their child's life.  And that's perfectly fine.  

As for me, I have to be totally honest and say that, well, I love me some Down syndrome.  I DON'T love the holes in my girls' hearts, but I DO admit that I've fallen head-over-heels in love with that precious extra chromosome.  Which is a vital and integral part of who my daughters are.  They're not defined by Down syndrome or "special needs", but they wouldn't be who they are were it not for those extra copies.

I honestly never really think about how my daughters could (and will) be labeled by most people as "delayed", "disabled", "special needs", or "the r word".  They're just my kids.  Who need surgery, who need some early intervention, and who need some thyroid meds.  Yes, they do have Down syndrome, but around here?  We think that's pretty rad.  (Yes, I just said rad.  I was also jammin' to 1980s Janet Jackson in the thrift store yesterday.  Because I'm an awesome product of the '80s like that.)

The fact is that all seven (yes, seven) of my children have needs.  Every last one of 'em.  And, they always will.  I figure being a mother is a lifelong pursuit, filled with joys and sorrows and lots and lots of love-put-into-action.  I can't know the future, or say for certain how much Mekdes and Tigist will "do".  I can't know what tomorrow holds.

I just know that I'm their mama, and I'm gonna do my very best to help them reach their beautiful, God-given potential, whatever that may be. 

Mostly I know I love my dear, sweet daughters.  Down syndrome and all.

Parenting children with special needs (and what miscarriage taught me)

My dear friend Jeannett at Life Rearranged asked today about how we mamas have been touched by raising children with special needs.

And I immediately knew I wanted to write about this.  Both about special needs and about motherhood in general, because the two are deeply connected for so many of us.

As many of you know, my husband and I are working to bring home our two daughters, Tigist and Mekdes, from Ethiopia.  Both girls were born with Down syndrome.

But let me back up a bit, because my journey to parenting children with special needs did not begin with Tigist and Mekdes, but when I miscarried a baby in 2004.  Which was completely devastating.  Then I had another miscarriage in 2008.  Equally painful and tragic, and it's hard to tell your four other children--through your own tears--that their baby sibling has died and gone to be with Jesus. 

Yet through these sad experiences, I did learn to rejoice in every baby, and that a soul knit together in the womb is a soul to love and be grateful for.  I became painfully aware that God is the ultimate author of life, and that each and every life is immeasurably valuable and beautiful no matter how short.  No matter the child's inability to live beyond six weeks in utero.  I was glad for both of my babies I'd lost, grateful I had them for the time I did.  Even if it was too short. 

And looking back, I can see that this perspective has really shaped my view of children with special needs, in general.  Because it touches on the value of life in general.  It touches on the meaning of motherhood, because it changes the definition or focus a little bit.  The truth is, whether the child meets my criteria for "healthy" (or typical or ________), he or she is my child.  My child.  A precious, beautiful soul to delight in and nourish and love.  A part of our family who will contribute in complex and astounding ways. 

So that includes my three biological daughters--the one who taught herself to read, the one who fought horrible infections her entire first year of life, and the one who is inexplicably small for her age and delayed in speech.  And it includes my two adopted sons with learning delays and ADHD tendencies.  It includes my two miscarried babies.  And of course now includes my two daughters in Ethiopia, both with Down syndrome.  All of them.  Priceless treasures not just the way they are, but because of who they are.

The truth is that Tigist and Mekdes are first and foremost our daughters.  Yes, they were born with an extra chromosome.  Yes, they may take longer to meet some of their developmental milestones.  Yes, they may continue to live with us as adults and yes, we may outlive them.  Yes, they could be classified as having "special needs."  But, my goodness, they are children.  Souls created by a perfect God to love and be loved and to experience life.  We receive them as gifts.  Like we have received each and every one of our children.  All of whom have special needs, in a sense--each child is unique in their approach to life and in their abilities and challenges.

Now I'm under no misapprehensions that life is going to be all neat and tidy and easy as pie for our family.  (As if it is now.)  My heart is surely going to break into a million pieces when my daughters are inevitably teased for being different.  (Is it wrong to punch someone else's kid on the playground?  :)  )  When we go to Costco or Target we'll get even more stares and questions, no doubt.  Probably some derision too.  And adopting children with special needs will affect our current children just as much as it affects us.

But when did conformity and anonymity and being the same as the world around us ever become the goal?  The truth is, I want my children to be different.  I want our family to be those people who are open to life in whatever form it comes.  I want my kids to care about one another and not to fear the very act of living.  I want them to be virtuous.  And to see that life is not about hiding safely behind a white picket fence.

And so when I dream about my two beautiful Ethiopian daughters, I know I wouldn't change a thing about them.  I love them just as they are.  Down syndrome and special needs and all.  Their lives are a gift, and I give thanks to God for opening my eyes to the beauty of each and every life perfectly created by Him.  I believe He used my two little babies, both with Jesus now, to show me this.  How blessed and humbled I am.

If you are considering adoption or foster care, won't you take a moment to think about the many children born with special needs?  Had we not been open to adopting children born with Down syndrome, we would not be the proud parents of Tigist and Mekdes.  It's worth thinking about, no?

Nordstrom and Target have style!

{source}

I was so excited and touched to see that the anniversary edition of the Nordstrom catalogue includes a child who has Down syndrome.  He's the precious boy on the far left.  (Look how hip he is--check out that jacket!)

{source}

And the Target ad also currently includes an adorable little girl who has Down syndrome.  I don't know her, but I want to hug her--I love her sweet hair-do!

I have to tell you that seeing these children acknowledged and affirmed makes me really, really happy.  It's as it should be.  All of us, and all of our unique giftings and challenges, together.  Wearing cool clothes and playing with Dora.  Perfect as-is.  Just typical kids.

And because they're just too cute not to share on here, I'm also posting photos of my own two sweeties.  They each have an extra chromosome too! 

Mekdes

Tigist

I know that "Down syndrome style" may have initially been intended as some sort of passive-agressive insult--but looking at all of these precious, beautiful children, I'm thinking it's actually a pretty big compliment!

So, way to go Nordstrom and Target!  Thank you for recognizing that children with Down syndrome are, simply, children.  As a soon-to-be-mama to two little girls born with Trisomy 21, I love seeing these sweet smiles in your catalogues!  (And, if you're looking for two additional models, I'll let you know when my girls come home.  'Cause I doubt anyone could resist buying whatever either of them would be selling!) 

Oops, GQ did it again

I'm afraid that it's time to beat a dead horse. 

Yes, we're gonna have us another little talk about GQ.  Sorry.

Remember when I shared those offensive statements they made regarding parents and adoptive families?

Well, now they've gone and insulted people with Down syndrome.

I know, right?

In an article arguing that Boston is America's worst-dressed city, GQ included this little gem:

"Due to so much local in-breeding, Boston suffers from a kind of Style Down Syndrome."

Now, I know GQ is a random magazine that probably none of us reads.  And I don't expect anyone to ascribe to my personal ideas or beliefs.  Especially the writers at GQ.

But people, this is just not okay.  Not.o.kay.

I'll start by pointing out that it belies some major ignorance on the part of the author: does he really think Down syndrome is the result of in-breeding?  Really?

Yet more importantly...why on EARTH is he using Down syndrome as an insult?!  Comparing bad fashion to people born with an extra chromosome??!!

Let me tell you, in case you didn't know, that people do not "suffer from" Down syndrome.  Down syndrome is not a disease, and it is not an illness.  It is a term used to classify a group of people born with some extra genetic material on their 21st chromosome.  This group of people tends to share certain characertistics, but they do not "suffer" from Down syndrome.  They will face some challenges unique to them, but then don't we all face challenges?  Good grief.  People born with Down syndrome are PEOPLE.

Stuff like this makes me fighting mad.  (If you couldn't tell.)

GQ or not, dumb men's magazine or not, you don't say things like that.  It's ugly.  It's ignorant.  It's mean.

As if those with Down syndrome in the US aren't fighting enough of a battle as it is.

92% won't even be born, because they will have been eliminated by their own mothers and fathers, thanks to a medical establishment that does not value life as it should.

Then the 8% or so fortunate enough to make it to birth have to put up with stupid comments and mean people.

So, I'm speaking up again, because I think this is a dialogue worth having.  Sure we can write off these statements because they come from a less-than-honorable publication, because we don't expect a worldly magazine to have the corner on morality or, you know, basic human decency.

Or we can address the unfortunate fact that these attitudes aren't limited to the pages of a sketchy periodical.  They are alive and well in our communities, our schools, our churches, and yes even our homes.

That 92% statistic?  Yep, that says it all. 

I now need to share some time-sensitive information with you.  (And yes, it relates to what we've been talking about).  This beautiful little girl, born with Down syndrome in Eastern Europe, is living on majorly borrowed time.  She needs a family.  In order to live.  Please spread the word.

When I read her story the other day, my heart broke into a million and one pieces.

Then, reading GQ's article today, it broke again.

Because people who trivialize the very existence of God's precious, most-vulnerable, made-in-His-image children are participating in a grave evil.  Maybe this journalist working for GQ thinks he has nothing to do with an orphan living on another continent, or with a pre-born baby in the womb, but the truth is, our world is a hostile place for children with Down syndrome.  And attitudes are shaped by what we see and hear in the media. 

So every time someone diminishes the life of a person with Trisomy 21, it is a nail in a child's coffin.

And that's no exaggeration.  It's the truth.

In addition to the horrific abortion rate for these children in our country, there is also the reality that orphaned children with Down syndrome world-wide have a horribly difficult time finding a family.  Most adoptive families want healthy young infants.  So these precious, especially vulnerable children sit and wait and, in Eastern Europe, are transferred to mental asylums where they eventually die.

So, yes, it's all related.

And, yep, I have a vested interest in this.  Oh yes I do.  Because I now have two daughters who were born with Down syndrome.  And they may be only 4 years old and 2 years old respectively, but they've got awesome style, and we have seven people here in our home who can't wait to get these girls here and start living life together under one roof.

GQ, I think it's time your magazine put more effort into whatever it is that you are supposed to do, and leave parents, adoptive families, and now people with Down syndrome(!) alone. Comments like the one above make you sound ignorant, but far worse, they're hurtful and cruel. Words matter--and for goodness' sakes, people who write for a living should know that!

(And if for no other reason--PLEASE stop saying such ridiculous things--I've got other stuff to blog about, yo!)

Introductions

{You can read the background on our adoption journey here.}



Friends, I'm so incredibly beyond excited to tell you that...

finally...

after so very many delays, hang-ups, and mishaps...

after a trip to the other side of the world...

after coming back to even more roadblocks and delays...

we.have.passed.court.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And see this cute baby girl?

She's our daughter!

Tigist.

Her name means "patience".

She's social as all-get-out and a total kick in the pants.

And do you see this beautiful young lady?

She's our daughter!

Mekdes.

She's sweet and self-assured and sharp.as.a .tack.  And she loves to blow kisses.

It's more than a little surreal, after a long year-plus of paperchasing, praying, and wondering if we'd ever bring these sweet girls home, to be able to announce that Mekdes and Tigist are our DAUGHTERS!  My other kids' siblings.  Mekdes and Tigist Heldt. 

We do still have a potentially long road ahead.  It can take eight to twelve weeks to get an appointment at the US Embassy to obtain the girls' visas...and that's if there aren't any more bumps in the road.

Still, we're another step closer.  These dear, precious little girls, who have waited so-very-long for a family, have a mommy and a daddy now!  And five siblings (not counting each other.)  And grandmas and grandpas and aunts and an uncle and cousins too. 

As I've mentioned before, both Mekdes and Tigist were born with an extra chromosome.  They have Down syndrome.  And yet when we met them in April, I looked at Kevin and told him that nothing is keeping these girlies back in life.  They are determined, sweet, and  happy.  I have a feeling they are going to succeed at whatever they do.  Best of all though, they're awesome.  Really, really awesome.


Need some proof?

Tigist LOVES to laugh.  And not just giggle, but really LAUGH.  Love this girl!!!

Mekdes gets SO EXCITED about things.  This is the face she makes, and this is what she does with her hands, when she gets excited.  So, so precious!


My mind is SWIMMING with all of the things I need to do before Tigist and Mekdes come home.  Rearranging bedrooms, getting closets stocked and beds set up, doing some additional organizing.  But first I'm trying to really drink up the moment and rest in knowing that Mekdes and Tigist are our little girls now, that there really is a light at the end of this crazy-tunnel.


And, how awesome is it that I can use ther names and share their photos on my blog now??!!


Anyway, these are our girls.  I'll be sharing more about our trip to meet them back in April in the coming days, now that I can show you photos.  Thank you, sweet readers, for your prayers and your support during this process.  I'll keep you updated!

And in the meantime, I'm simply happy to say that Tigist and Mekdes have a mom and a dad, and we are them, and we are blessed.

If you are here from MSN...

Welcome!

I'm so, so glad you're here!

And I apologize for yesterday's post.  Here you thought you were gonna get some info about the adoption of HIV+ children...and you clicked on a blog with a picture of a tasteless truck adornment.  Oh, the horrors!  I'll bet it got your attention though.  :)

If you are NOT here from MSN, and have no clue what I'm talking about, check out this article that ran on Sunday.

It makes my day to check out the ol' blog analytics (I feel a bit like the not-so-great-or-powerful Oz cowering behind the curtain when I look at blog stats) and see that people landed here by searching for "HIV+ adoption".  Truly.  Do you know that when we began the adoption process in 2005, no one had adopted an HIV+ child from Ethiopia yet?  Now, it is becoming somewhat common practice within the adoption community.  People are talking about it.  I don't think I ever expected to see the day when it was so publicized and, well, downright common!  (That photo is of me with one of my sons when we brought them home in early 2006.)

In the interest of full disclosure, we do not have any children living with HIV.  Just an FYI, so you don't think I'm an expert or that I can speak with any authority on the matter.  :)  Our sons came home before these precious children were able to be adopted, and the children we are currently adopting were born with Down syndrome.  So I don't speak from experience, although I DO love to advocate for the adoption of these kiddos.  I'm even on staff with a fantastic nonprofit, From HIV to Home.  It's something that's been near and dear to my heart for years.

What I have discovered over time, interestingly, is that I am passionate about the adoption of waiting children, period.  What began as the conviction that HIV+ children are just as deserving of families as are kids NOT born with HIV, has developed into my firmly held belief that we MUST find homes for the children who are waiting.  Whether they are HIV+, or older, hearing impaired, or whether they were born with an extra chromosome, these children are the ones needing to be adopted.  These are the children who have no waiting list of families--THEY are sitting on a list.  Waiting.  And waiting.  And waiting.

If you have never thought about the adoption of a waiting child, of a child with medical needs or who is older, I hope you'll do some research, say a prayer or two (or 100!), and really give it some serious consideration.  We always, always believed we'd adopt a child with HIV one day, but our journey led us instead to two little girls who'd been doing a lot of waiting themselves, not because they have HIV, but because they were born with Down syndrome.  Life's funny in that it doesn't always turn out the way you expect.  All along I suppose God was moving our hearts towards the many dear, precious children in the margins...whether due to a highly stigmatized illness...or a highly stigmatized extra chromosome.

Please feel free to email me if you have any questions about the adoption of a child with medical needs.  If I can't answer, I'll point you towards someone who can.  Because I know some really amazing people.

Be encouraged, because adoption isn't always (ever?) easy...but it is good.  And do-able. 

And now I'm going to close by raising my glass to the fact that children who were once considered hard to place are finding families! 

There are good things happening in the world.

World Down Syndrome Day and the legacy of Jerome Lejeune

Today has been designated World Down Syndrome Day. Pictured above is the man who discovered the cause of Down syndrome. More about him in a minute. Because he rocks.

And I figure anything that rasies awareness about the individuals born with Down syndrome--and their accomplishments, struggles, and lives--is a good thing.

I have always passionately believed that there is a dignity to life, one that cannot be minimized or trivialized, regardless of one's standing in society and regardless of the way in which they are born. I participated in my first pro-life walk (to raise money for a crisis pregnancy center) when I was but 9 years old. I remember, at age 11, spending a day at a ranch hanging out with middle school students who were developmentally delayed. Then I volunteered with Special Olympics in junior high school. While I was far from being a saint (do you cringe when you think about the stupid things you used to do/think/say, or is that just me?), these things were on my radar screen and embedded in the very depths of my heart from a young age. Instilled in my by my parents--so, so grateful to them for that. (And who says kids don't listen to their moms and dads?)

As you all know, I am about to adopt two little girls who were both born with Down syndrome. NOT because I have any desire to be an activist. (We can all agree that is a horrible motive for adopting a child. So that is definitely not what I'm trying to say here.) But because we are open to life. Feel called to adopt. And there were two little girls who needed a home. We didn't think Down syndrome should matter in that sense. It is something our family will embrace and address.

My beliefs about dignity and life feel so much more personal now.

All of a sudden, it's not simply me being frustrated-from-afar by the way people treat those who are different from them--it's my future daughters we're talking about. Who are children that happen to have Down syndrome.

All of a sudden I'm thinking, really thinking, about the type of world these little girls have been born into. They are leaving their birth country which, sadly, cannot offer much in the way of resources for developmental delays. And coming to a country rich in resources for kids who need a little extra practice with walking and talking. Yet still I grieve because our society is, whether we want to admit it or not, incredibly hostile towards individuals with Down syndrome (and various other medical needs, for that matter). We assume they must not have a good quality of life. We assume they won't achieve what our non-developmentally-delayed children will achieve--and believe all of that actually really matters. And we currently eliminate 92% of the precious, lovingly-created souls with Down syndrome from our country. Before they can even be born.

It is my view that we simply struggle to see people as being created by God, period. This of course isn't limited to babies with Down syndrome. It extends to people sitting on death row. And people struggling through addictions. And, for goodness' sake, people who speak a different language from us. Why, oh why is it so very difficult? Why do we struggle to acknowledge that ALL life is valuable, every single one, every sweet, individual soul? Why do we jump at the chance to draw lines between "them" and "us" as if somehow WE are more capable of eeking out a meaningful existence (and attempt to rob them of the same in the process)?

So today, for World Down Syndrome Day, I wanted to introduce you to an incredible man. This article is an interview with the daughter of Jerome Lejeune (the French geneticist who first discovered the cause of Down syndrome. Pictured at the top of this post with one of his patients.) Have you heard of him? Quite possibly not. Because this man was not only a brilliant, famed geneticist, he ended up spending the majority of his career fighting for the lives of those born with Trisomy 21. He faced opposition, discrimination, and all-out hatred, but still he continued on: a true hero of the faith. I am so anxious to read more about this amazing man and about his work, as I know I can learn so much from his Godly, selfless example.

What a legacy Jerome has left. Just Google his name, and you can find dozens of articles about him, and books he has written, all in the name of life. (I feel a little proud too that my husband's middle name is Jerome, as well as one of my sons' middle names. Not a bad guy to share your name with!)

This man exemplifies so much of what World Down Syndrome Day ought to mean. May we all have the courage and conviction of Jerome Lejeune!

Gifts and frustration (or, another Ethiopian adoption update)

I really hate for my blog to be a downer.

Truly.

But I need to share our most recent adoption update with you all, and it's not the happiest of news.

And really, who wants a blog filled with unicorns and rainbows where nothing ever goes wrong?

Life just doesn't work that way.  (Well, mine doesn't at least!)

So in case you needed further proof of that, last Friday an email came in from our adoption agency.

"This must be our court date!" I though excitedly. 

Even though something in me was guarded.  Because I know.  I know that nothing is ever simple when it comes to these children who so desperately need homes.  I know that things in Ethiopia are heating up right now, that the US Embassy is launching investigations and taking agencies and families to task in the name of promoting ethical adoptions.  As an adoptive parent and someone who wants to be a good citizen, I understand the reasoning behind all of this.  I truly, truly do.  If you know me then you know ethical adoption is something I'm passionate about. 

Guarded as I was, my heart literally fell when I opened the email to find that our case has been pulled from court...because of a document the embassy is requiring now...that they WEREN'T requiring years (or weeks) ago, when our little one came into care.  It doesn't matter that we were about to get our court date, or that these girls have been waiting seemingly forever for a family.  Our case is stuck until the original orphanage where they lived (not affiliated with our agency) can produce this particular document.

Sigh.

The hardest part I think is just the big, huge unknown.  In my head I know that this paperwork should come through and that it will most likely be resolved.  But, there are no guarantees.  And of course it's out of our hands.

So we're back to waiting, and praying that these girls can come home sooner rather than later. 

Of course, amidst the sadness of this setback, we receieved three beautiful gifts, right when God knew we needed them.

First, a sweet friend emailed me some video she took of M., 4 years old, blowing kisses and waving to us.  SO precious.  We get to hear her sweet voice on the video, and see her sweet smile.  We've watched it countless times already.

AND, someone I haven't met (who happens to be a pediatric physical therapist!), emailed me all about M., because she met her a few months ago.  SUCH positive, wonderful things to hear.  M. is doing well, is being given every opportunity at our agency's transition home, is mainstreamed with the other children and is kicking the soccer ball, walking, everything.  Priceless.

And finally, I receievd an update from our agency saying that T., 20ish months, is crawling now!  (AND sitting on the potty--if this is true, she will be our earliest potty trained kid.)  Woohoo!  Go T.!

It's funny, but I really am not sad about missing these milestones. 

And why is that, you ask? 

See these girls are developing, growing, and living in spite of their difficult circumstances.  They have been living in an orphanage.  With Down syndrome.  So to be honest, I am REJOICING that they are receiving good and loving care, and that they are learning to do all sorts of things in this environment.  It's just my mama's pride.  I'm not there to see it all happening, and oh how I wish I was, but bottom line, I'm just so dang proud of our girls!!!!!

So that's the latest update.  Sad, INCREDIBLY frustrating news in terms of the adoption, but wonderful news about the girls.  They are growing, learning, thriving, and we can still love them from here.  Someday we'll bring them home, and this will all be a distant memory.  In the meantime, we'll be here waiting, and dreaming, and clicking "replay" on Youtube. 

I want people to know

One of the sweetest parts of the adoption process is sending your child-to-be a care package.  I love that our agency does this.  They give you a list of what to send them, and then they deliver it to your child.

But not before your five kids pose excitedly with the bags before setting off to the post office.  (No Biniam does NOT have a long braid in his hair--that's one of those thingies that keeps your glasses from falling down.  Just wanted to clarify.)

We had so much fun putting together packages for M. and T., our two little girls we're adopting from Ethiopia. 

Part of the thought behind this is so the girls can start anticipating joining our family, so they can see photos of us and their new home, and so they can enjoy some fun gifts.  This is often when the child finds out that they have a family.

The other piece of this is, of course, that the other children and caregivers see that this child has a family adopting them.  It is a joyful thing and a time for celebration when a child receives this package.

Orphanages and transition homes are a bit of a revolving door--adoptive families in and out on court trips, volunteer groups coming in to work on projects.  Thus, many people have met M. and T.  Many families have seen them and held them.  And so I've often wondered what people think when they see our girls...do they realize they have Down syndrome, and then pity them?  Do they assume they don't have a family, and feel badly, because surely it must be hard to find a family for a waiting child with Down syndrome?  (It's also highly possible that they assume they DO have a family, because they are so darn cute.  :)  In all seriousness, I don't know.  Maybe people DON'T feel bad, or think about it at all.  I know my heart hurt so much for the children without families when we brought our sons home.)

This is part of why I was so.very.excited. to send off those packages.  Because I want people to know that these girls have a family.  That these girls, each born with an extra chromosome, have someone coming for them. 

That T., who lives with the rest of the babies who are adopted so very quickly, is being adopted too.  That she has lots of soon-to-be-siblings, including an older sister who's planning to put her pjs on her every night.  And soon-to-be-parents who are getting SO anxious to get her and her soon-to-be-sister home. 

And a mom who may or may not be nesting like crazy just thinking about it, and consequently bought her and Mary sweet matching crib sets. 

And our M. is finally getting closer to going home too.  The child who our agency thought could never be placed due to unresolved paperwork issues, is getting a mom and a dad.  And a bunch of thrilled siblings.  This girl who has struggled so hard to learn to walk  and to meet her milestones in a country with limited resources for people like her, will be joining this family before too terribly long. 

Whose soon-to-be-mama just bought her an adorable bedding set with the sweetest owls on it.

Yes.  I want people to know.

So we sent our bags, which consisted of the following items:

etsy shirts with the girls' respective initials sewn on them
1 toy each
labeled photo albums of their new family (us!)
blankets sewn by sweet friend
disposable cameras

The blanket is something I have to tell you about.  A very sweet friend told me she wanted to sew a blanket for each of our girls, but each blanket would be in two halves--one was for us to send to the girls, the other was to remain here.  So they'd have something familiar to transition home to, and if their half is still there when we travel, we can bring it home and sew the blanket back together.

Just thinking about this friend's heart and the loving care she went to, to sew these blankets for two little girls on the other side of the world, pretty much brings me to tears.  I like looking at our halves and thinking about how our girls will be snuggling with THEIR halves. 

And I like thinking about how our girls will be flipping through their albums.  Wearing their pretty, Mommy-couldn't-resist-and-splurged-a-little-bit-on-etsy shirts with the hand-sewn, girly pink appliques.

But most of all?  I love thinking about what it all means.  They have a family.  That family is us.  Travelling families will know that M. and T. will soon no longer be waiting.  And they'll know that our family is so crazy blessed because these girls will be our daughters.

Of course the flip-side of all of this is that countless other children ARE still waiting.  And this makes me sad.  Inevitably I will go to my girls' transition home and, mingled with the joy and pride I will surely feel upon meeting them and becoming their mother, I will feel a grave sadness as I look around and see the multitude of children without families yet.  Most of them older, and many with medical needs or developmental delays or unknown diagnoses. 

I can only hope and pray that more and more adopting families will consider by-passing the waitlist to pursue the adoption of a waiting child.

And I will make sure to give our girls an extra tight hug, and thank God that somehow He, in His profoundly life-giving goodness and grace, decided to bring us together.

Adoption and Down syndrome: what to say

I've been thinking so much lately about the two little girls we are bringing home from Ethiopia.  Still no court date, but I'm thinking about them just the same. 

As I'm sure you can imagine, there is a lot to think about.  :)

The background, for any new readers (welcome!), is that we are in the process of bringing home two little girls from Ethiopia.  One of them is 18 months old or so, and the other is fourish years old.  Both of these girls are considered "waiting children", because both were born with Down syndrome.

To be honest, as much thinking as I have done about them, I'm still never quite sure how to explain it to people.  By "it", I mean the adoption, what we are doing, the girls.  I always start by saying we're adopting two little girls from Ethiopia...but then I just plain don't know WHAT to say.  Do I tell people they have Down syndrome?  Is that weird?  Is it weird to leave it out?  Usually I end up explaining that these sweet girls have been waiting for a family, because they were born with Down syndrome.

It's just one of those things that I'm a little unsure about.  Now once the girls are home, and officially part of our family, I have a feeling that when I'm telling someone how many children I have, I WON'T randomly say that my two Ethiopian daughters have Down syndrome (unless it makes sense in the context).  Somehow though when we're talking about an adoption process, it seems like maybe I should. 

I suppose that part of why I feel compelled to do so is because I want people to know about the need for families to adopt waiting children, and children with Down syndrome in particular.  How many of us adoptive families have gone on to do something because we saw someone else doing it and thought, hey, maybe that IS totally do-able!  Sure, some people are trailblazers, but many of us have been inspired to do something by seeing someone else do it.  So, yes, I want to advocate for these sweet children.

And I think I also want people to know that Down syndrome is, well, it's okay.  No need to feel sympathy for us, or for our girls.  They're just kids.  Who soon enough will be tearing around our house, playing with the matchbox cars and dollhouse and Littlest Petshop.  Yes there will be therapies and medical issues that come up, but we'll take those as they come.  Just like with our other children.

It's also more or less impossible for me to completely separate who our girls are from the fact that they have Down syndrome.  And if I'm honest, I don't think I WANT to.  Their HUGE smiles, beautiful eyes...they are precious.  As-is.  How awful to even have to say that, but the reality is that not everyone thinks this way.  We do, however.  Yet at the same time, our girls are not DEFINED by Down syndrome.

So, I think I will continue with my standard explanation about the adoption: we are bringing home two children from Ethiopia.  If the conversation continues, I will explain that they were waiting for a family because they were born with an extra chromosome.  And in an ideal world, said person would ask for more information about adopting waiting children, and would go on to pursue their own medical/special needs adoption.

Just sayin'.  :)

Adoption and the Immaculate Conception

The kids and I went to Mass yesterday morning.  (We go once a week and I consider it part of our homeschooling.  What better way to start the schoolday than worshipping God through hymns, liturgy, and Scripture?)  And it happened to be the Feast Day of the Immaculate Conception. (Which, for those who may not know, refers to Mary's conception, not Jesus'.  You can read more about it here.)  The priest talked about how Mary said yes to God when she said yes to the angel, essentially inviting Jesus in (literally, in her case!) I have to tell you that I love this. I love that we, like Mary so many years ago, have the opportunity to say yes to God, and yes to Jesus. On one level, we say yes to Jesus at the point of conversion, and yet on another level, we continually say yes to Jesus when we do His work, when we allow Him to use us, when we trust Him.

Adoption, interestingly, is one of those things where, at some point, you simply just have to say "yes." As a friend of mine recently blogged, "it doesn't just happen." And no you won't know the outcome right off the bat. No you can't foresee every little challenge or triumph. But you can say yes. And saying yes to one of these waiting little ones is surely saying yes to Jesus.

As everyone knows by now, we are in the process of adopting two sweet little ones from Ethiopia, both with Down syndrome.
And I'm discovering that people seem to conceptualize chromosomal abnormalities (and various medical/special needs) in different ways.  Most people giving birth to a child with an extra copy of the 21st chromsome, for example, desperately wish that this was not the case.  I'm sure I would have felt the same way.

But I feel like we're in a strange position, being adoptive parents.

Because really, I see these little girls as perfectly wonderful.  NOT lacking in anything.  I'm not sure if it's okay to say this, but...well...I'm not sorry that they were born with Down syndrome.  This is simply who they ARE.  I know it's a road most birth families would not choose for their child.  And I know that our girls will face adversity and that they'll have to work harder for some things.  But I also know that some things may come a little easier.  And that they will be blessed through overcoming whatever obstacles lay ahead. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I just don't see their extra chromsome as a necessarily bad thing.  In the least.  In fact, I wouldn't change it if I could.  I DO feel terribly that they have been living in an orphanage for so long.  I feel horrible that they couldn't remain in their respective birth families.  I don't want them to struggle with medical issues.  And I'll be downright ANGRY the first (and second, and third for that matter) time they are teased for one thing or another.  Like all of my kids, they will be at some point.

But really?  People who think those with Down syndrome are somehow "less", or even less fortunate?  They just don't know.  They don't know the vastness of God's love and they don't know the beauty that I see in these little girls' smiles.  They don't see the joy in simplicity or the value in diversity.  Would people have Trisomy 21 in a perfect world?  I don't know.  Maybe they would, without the medical issues that sometimes come along with it.  Maybe they wouldn't.  But my goodness, imagine the sweetness we'd miss out on without these little ones in our world!

So that's how I see it these days.  I would never want to make light of how anyone feels about their child or their child's struggles--that is not my intent.  I have not walked your road.  BUT, in a day and age where these children are usually either killed in the womb or shut away in government-run asylums, I don't mind standing up and saying that I love my sweet girls, extra chromsome and all.  I'm determined that our home will be filled with joy and love and acceptance, not sympathy or wishing things were different.  This is how God made these girls, and I seriously feel blessed beyond belief to not only be a part of their lives, but to be their adoptive mom.

How amazing is that???!!!

What holds so many adoptive families back from the adoption of children with special needs or children who are older?  In other words, waiting children?  What keeps them from saying yes?  I think sometimes it's fear.  Many are saying yes to adoption, but no to the children currently needing homes.  I keep hearing about this Evangelical adoption culture that seems to be materializing, and about how adoption is becoming so much more popular...but we can't pat ourselves on the back just yet.  Not when we look at the statistics.  Too many little ones are still waiting for us to be celebrating this "accomplishment". 

I wonder, if we are at a place where we feel excited about opening up our home and our life to a child needing a family, is it THAT much more of a stretch to consider an HIV+ child, or a child from such-and-such country that maybe wouldn't be our first choice but there's such a huge need, or a child with Down syndrome?  Maybe a child listed on Reece's Rainbow?    

Oh how I wish I could show you the video someone sent me yesterday of my little T. (18 months old or so).  Because she is a treasure of inestimable worth.  Her smile lights up the room.  I seriously feel like we've struck gold...I cannot BELIEVE she has been waiting so long...I feel so blessed that she will be my daughter.  Even though I have no CLUE how I am going to successfully parent seven children.  :)

Of course, I know WHY she's waited so long.  It's because she has Down syndrome.  And it's the same with our little four-year-old M.  Who is also a total doll, by the way.  (See I can go on and on about how cute they are without it technically being considered bragging, because they're not technically my daughters yet.  :)  )

I want my life to be a continual pattern of saying yes to Jesus.  Of allowing Him to transform me and change me.  I have such a long way to go, and yet what an amazing process it is.  I was really grateful for the priest's words yesterday, and for the many faithful throughout the millenia who have said yes to Jesus.  May we all, like Mary, find the strength to do so!