An Adoption Epiphany

LOTS has happened since I wrote my last post. We traveled back to Asia, packed up our apartment, and moved to a new city. And now that most of the boxes are unpacked and life-as-we'll-know-it has begun (we've been here now for a month), I've had time to look back on our last five months since getting Isabelle.

First off, the Lord led us to an absolutely insane first five months after adoption–from living out of suitcases for three months, to major surgery, to international travel, to moving cities. If someone else told me that they were going to do these things in the first five months of having their adopted child, I'd think that they should brush up on their decision making skills!

Anyhow, it was our life, and it was His will. And it has been one of the hardest periods of our lives. Yet the Lord has given me Aha moments recently.

One of them happened in the middle of the night, actually. Isabelle had come to our room and tried to climb into bed with us. Desiring a decent night's sleep after weeks of both kids crawling into bed with us, I encouraged her to go back to bed (where Connor was still sleeping). She reluctantly left our room. When Clint checked in on her a few minutes later, he found her at one end of the couch, sitting at the feet of a single guy friend who had slept on our couch that night, whom she'd met a few hours prior.

Frankly, I wanted to get mad at her. After the indiscriminate affection for strangers all summer long (and the, "I love you," she casually tossed to a friend of ours she'd met a day before), I was dumbstruck that she'd climbed into bed with a veritable stranger. It was as though she was saying, "You won't give me what I want? Well, this other guy will do."

Then it hit me. Under the irritation and frustration, I was hurt. Because, after four months of kissing, hugging, feeding, comforting, and all the sacrificing that parenting takes, she was willing to go to someone else for something that's reserved for special relationships. One doesn't crawl into bed with just anybody, you know?

There's beauty in the parent-child relationship, a special attachment that's built over time and care. By the time Connor could walk, talk, and make decisions about who he wanted to seek, there was never a doubt in anyone's mind that he was ours. Sure, he'd talk to others, play with others, laugh with others, but he knew who mommy and daddy were and that the three of us were together. We knew that he liked us best! And it's that awesome reciprocation that makes all the sacrifice worth it. So, after four months of pain, toil, and mothering, deep down inside, I desired from Isabelle an I-know-you're-my-mom-and-no-one-else-will-do type of reciprocation. And it made me sad that she wasn't there yet.

It was an epiphany that I needed. Before, it had just flat out irked me that she blew kisses to strangers. Everyone else thinks it's adorable, so why am I so bothered by it? Now it makes so much sense, when I see that I was jealous for her affection. I'd never quite understood it in the Bible when it talks of God being jealous for His people. Now it's so clear that it's not from ego but from a desire to have a special relationship with His children.

Cute stuff Isabelle does

Hope you out there haven't given up on my blog! I'm not so good at keeping up, but when I do get around to posting, it's pretty cute stuff, no? Anyhow, here are a few of the cute things Isabelle does.

"Poop Candy"

One of them, you may have already heard, was how she called the reward candy for pooping in the potty as "poop candy." It was both cute and embarrassing when she exited a bathroom at Olive Garden squealing with glee, "Poop candy! Poop CANDY!!!" 

After a couple of weeks of success with "poop candy," it was becoming apparent that she was, well, shall we say, abusing the reward, so we suspended the program. That day, after she pooped, she exclaimed as usual, "POOP CANDY!!!" When Clint said, "Poop, no candy," she said in a noticeably subdued but still hopeful tone, "Poop candy." Clint again said, "Poop, no candy." In a quivery voice from one who knew defeat was inevitable, she finally eeked out, "Poop... candy???" 

Pretty Isabelle

In order to illicit an "Isabelle, you're so pretty," from Clint, sometimes she'll first get his attention then brush her hair off her forehead. The first time she tried this, he didn't immediately catch on to what she was fishing for, so she mouthed the word "pretty." He got the point!

Kisses

This last one is both cute and exasperating. Isabelle likes to blow kisses. This is usually quite delightful for the cashiers, waitresses, and relatives she's just met, and I'm sure Isabelle loves the response from her adoring fans. However, Clint and I are finding it not so cute that she's doling out kisses to random strangers. Last week, she and Clint were waiting in an armchair outside a store at the mall when a Sears employee who was on his break asked if the seat next to them was available. She blew him a kiss. Also, she kissed on the mouth someone who had come to our house to visit. They had met merely half an hour before that! We love that she's full of affection for us, but when she gives affection so easily to strangers, we wonder a little where we stand!

She gets her moves from her Dad...

When waiting for Sung at an outlet mall, you can wait a looooong time! How do you pass the hours? You bust a move of course.

Location:Partridge Ln,Derry,United States

Hospital pictures and video

Ok, peeps. Here are the pics and video I promised. They were taken on Day Five of Isabelle's hospital stay.

When she received the headband as a gift, she wanted Clint to take pictures from every angle so that she could admire herself. Who needs mirrors, right?











Since only one of us could stay with her at night, Clint and Connor stayed at the local Ronald McDonald House (which is a wonderful charity, by the way; McDonald's restaurants provide 15% of the RMH budget, so you can feel philanthropic rather than remorseful the next time you eat a Big Mac). This video was of her talking to Clint that night. P.S. the Chinese that she's speaking means, "Daddy loves Daddy."

- Posted using BlogPress

Overdue surgery update

Yes, I know, an update on what happened the rest of Isabelle's time in the hospital is very very overdue. Here's a quick-ish recap.

After the first day's worth of water deprivation was over (see last post), things got much better. Once the breathing tube was taken out, she was able to eat later that day. On a side note, one of the things I remember about her stay was choosing meals off the menu. Since our ability to communicate with her is limited, I often guessed and ordered meals she barely touched. However, thankfully, she absolutely loved the chicken noodle soup. Once we discovered it, she ate 1-2 bowls of it every lunch and dinner for the next four days!

While she was in the Cardiac ICU, we had the same daytime nurse for three straight days. It was comforting to know that we weren't getting a different nurse all the time. Patty was able to know how Isabelle was progressing and often would bring up concerns to the doctors that I had been wondering as well.

Anyhow, she was released from the CICU on Sunday (her surgery was on Thursday), and everyday she was clearing milestones. On Monday she was encouraged to walk around. She was reluctant at first, but by the time she had some space to roam, she was practically running around! I was afraid that she'd fall face first, since she was walking around hunched over (she looked like a tiny old lady)!

By Monday, they took her off all the cardiac medications she'd been on, and we were told that she could be released on Tuesday. We were glad to leave, but a part of me kept on thinking, "Really? You're letting us go this early? Is she ready?" Our cardiologist had prepared us beforehand that her stay would be longer than the typical patient born with similar heart defects (since her lungs were affected as well). She'd mentioned ten days, so, we packed for that much. Then when we met with the surgeon, the day before surgery, he told us that it might be as long as three weeks. So, needless to say, it was surprising and a bit nerve-wracking when they released her from the hospital five days after her surgery. I suppose that we shouldn't have been surprised; God can do things that go way beyond our expectations!

Oh yeah, the only pain medication she needed after being released was regular old Tylenol. It's crazy how children's bodies bounce back so quickly!

I have some pictures and a video from her last couple of days at the hospital, and when I figure out how to post it, I will.

Thank you to everyone who prayed for her and asked others to pray. She's doing amazing well!

Surgery Update Day 2

This morning, Isabelle cleared her first surgical milestone: getting her breathing tube taken out. Yesterday, even though she was sedated, she was really irritated by it. Which would start a vicious cycle of crying, which led to coughing up junk into the tube, which led to getting it sucked out, which would lead to crying, etc. It was tough to watch her crying a silent cry (the tube went down her throat), and we couldn't help her.

This morning after the tube was taken out, though, was even tougher. The nurse told us that she was not allowed to drink (or even suck on an ice chip) for four hours after the tube was taken out. But pretty much immediately, she was asking for water. The poor girl hadn't had anything wet in her mouth for 36 hours! She was absolutely desperate for water and kept on asking for it every five seconds. All I could tell her was, "Mommy is sorry." After a period of time (but before the end of the four hours), she finally got sick of me not giving her water. Although I was giving her my very best caring/sympathetic face and gentle strokes on her back, she'd finally had enough and removed my hand from her back. When I tried to hold her hand, she physically pushed me away. She was mad at me and wanted me to know it. Then she tried to take matters into her own hands and tried to get out of bed to get water for herself! She's skinny and tiny for her age, but that girl seems to be pure muscle. The nurse and I had to pry her legs off the bed railings. When I'm trying to establish a healthy attachment with my newly adopted daughter, this is not something that's going to establish trust!

The nurse finally asked the doctor whether there's something that could be done, and the doctor allowed her to have a popsicle. Yet, as soon as the popsicle was devoured, she still asked for water! She was one thirsty kid.

The attachment books say that parents should have the sole responsbility of giving food (and drink) to the adopted child. It's even a task given to adoptive parents into the teenage years. So, it was doubly hard to be forced to deprive her of the water that she obviously wanted so desperately.

Anyhow, here are some of my thoughts for now. Will update more later.

Surgery Update #2

Again, the doctors aren't certain what made Isabelle's heart stop beating, but... the great news is that the surgery is complete, and things look good. We're hoping that the incident was an isolated one. The surgeon even estimates that the recovery time could be shortened from what he had thought yesterday. (He'd initially thought 2-3 weeks. Now he guesses 10 days.)

She still has a ways to go before we can say that all is A-Okay, but we're relieved!

Surgery update #1

We're calling out for the prayers of the saints. While on the operating table (but before the surgeon had started repairing her heart), her heart inexplicably stopped beating. They were finally able to get her heart started again, but this was definitely unexpected for us and the surgical team.

Everything is now proceeding as it should be (her heart is being repaired right now). Please keep on praying.

The Day Before the Big Day

Today was pre-op day at the hospital. While Isabelle got some tests done, we had a chance to meet with the surgeon. After listening to his thorough explanation of the what will happen tomorrow and the possible complications, the heaviness of what will happen to her finally dawned on me. Perhaps it's because we've known since November that this day would come, the idea had become normal– something I didn't even blink at. And because we were so relieved at the recent news that she is indeed a candidate for surgery, we were (for lack of a better word) excited, because we've known for a long time that she absolutely must have this surgery. Yet it's a lot more daunting now.

She's not a "simple" or routine case, like most other children who are born with these defects. The damage to her lungs and vessels makes it more complicated. It also makes the recovery time longer. We'd packed enough for one week, but now it sounds like the complexity of her case might have us here closer to two. We'll see. Please pray for all four of us to be loving and gracious with one another during this time in the hospital.

Little Isabelle is sound asleep next to me–having no idea what tomorrow will bring. Yet we're just going to have to remind ourselves that it will all be worth it when her little heart is fixed!

P.S. FYI she will start her surgical prep sometime around 6AM tomorrow morning.

Meet Me In St. Louis, Louis; Meet Me at the Fair...

We find ourselves singing the above words quite a bit, since we've been traveling there a lot. Tonight we're packing for our third trip to the St. Louis Children's Hospital in less than a month. I'd probably complain about the distance and frequency, except for the fact that we are so thankful that we were led to this hospital. 

We were especially thankful to be at a top-notch hospital the last time we were there for Isabelle's catheterization. It was only supposed to be a diagnostic one–taking measurements to assess whether she's a candidate for heart surgery. Yet, a few hours in, the surgeon came out to let us know that they had found something unexpected. He'd found what's called Pulmonary Vein Stenosis, a narrowing of one of the veins that brings blood from the lungs to the heart. It was narrowed to 2mm and needed to be opened up before any future heart surgery. Thankfully, they were able to open it up successfully. Afterwards, the cath surgeon remarked that their hospital takes the time to do diagnostic procedures like catheterizations before going in for surgery. And in cases like hers, it turned out to be worth it. And he delivered further good news that Isabelle is a candidate for heart surgery!

So, now I've pretty much caught you up on the medical side of things. After we arrive in St. Louis tomorrow, she'll have pre-surgery test on Wednesday. Thursday is the big day, when she will get open heart surgery to fix the holes in her heart. Even though the holes are substantial, we've been told that, as far as open heart surgeries go, fixing her types of issues are fairly straight forward. 

By no means, though, are your prayers not needed! So keep it up! I'll try to post with more frequent updates this time around. 

Our first (okay, second) family-of-four photo shoot

We finally put our photos and videos of our new family of four on the computer. Sorry, I won't be posting them all today. (One step at a time, people!) Anyhow, I was looking for a family photo and was hoping to find one from a photo shoot during our last full day in Guangzhou. Unfortunately, you'll never see them, 'cause I don't want to publicize evidence of eleven days of the breakfast buffet that ended up on my upper arms.

So, we got dressed up after dinner tonight and took another crack at it.

What do you say, Doctor?

First of all, I want to write a thank you to all of you who have written encouraging comments and notes in response to my previous post. And thanks to all of you who prayed for our attachment. Last weekend especially, I often felt lifted up by your prayers, as my heart felt a rush of genuine affection for Isabelle that I didn't have before. It felt supernaturally granted! 

I also wanted to give an update on Isabelle's medical condition. We drove to St. Louis a week ago on Thursday to have our first cardiology visit in the U.S. to better assess her condition. After x-rays, an EKG, and an echocardiogram, we had hoped for a definitive answer as to whether or not she's a good candidate for surgery but, unfortunately, there wasn't a clear answer this time. We were also hoping that the doctors in China had been wrong about the size of the holes in her heart, but the echocardiogram confirmed what we had been told previously. 

A hole this large should have been fixed within the first year of life–long before it had a chance to affect her lungs–but since it has been left untreated for years, it makes her case a bit more involved. So, next week, we're off to St. Louis again to get a catheterization done, so that they can see more clearly what's going on in her heart and lungs. There is a chance, albeit small, that the high blood pressure in her lungs would make her ineligible for surgery to fix her heart. I don't completely understand the why's, but hopefully I never have to. 

So, you prayer warriors out there, you can pray that the doctors will give her a green light to get her little heart fixed! She'll be getting that done on Thursday. Oh, and please also pray for safety (and sanity!) on our five-hour drive there and back. :)

Attachment Woes... Who, Me?

It’s been over two weeks since we’ve had Isabelle. Our time in Guangzhou is done (we arrived in Indiana almost a week ago), and now “real life” has officially begun. She’s no longer an orphan, no longer a future adoptive daughter, no longer merely a set of pictures and notes written by others on paper. She’s officially our daughter. We’d anticipated and imagined this for a very long time!

For those reasons and more, I wish I could give another glowing post here on this blog–one that gives that beautiful picture of redemption that adoption is imagined to be. And, deep down, it is beautiful. But the day to day life of our adoption journey, for me at least, isn’t as pretty as that. Even though we’d been warned by many parents who’d adopted previously that the first x number of months wouldn’t be easy, I realize now that I was unprepared. I had known, of course, a child with attachment issues would bring some challenges, and I braced myself for it to be hard if/when she struggled to bond to us. However, I never imagined that it would be hard for me to bond to her. 

That’s not something I was prepared for. I had expected that bonding would take time; I thought I would have months to grow closer to her–months that she would need as well. Who would’ve known that she seems to need so little time? She’s sweet, affectionate, and full of smiles–a dream child (everyone keeps on telling us) to adopt. Sometimes I feel that I should feel joyful and infatuated, but often times, I simply don’t. I keep on reminding myself that what I’m feeling is normal for adoptive parents–that one day my love for her will be as unabashed as my love for Connor. And until then, I will follow others’ advice and will myself to treat her the same, because that’s what she needs from me.

I need more time for our family, this new family of four, to feel right again. And, more than that, I need God to help me to love her well. And I need His voice of strength (when I feel weak), tenderness (when I feel accused), and encouragement (when I feel discouraged) to be the loudest.

Time To Hit The Road

It is 4:45 in the morning and we are getting ready to walk out the door on the way to 30 hours of airports and airplanes (That’s assuming that all goes well, we have a few tight connections).

We welcome your prayers. We thought the hotel was tight quarters for the four of us, I am sure that economy will be even tighter!

Hang In There, Baby

We’re almost done with our eleven-day stay here in Guangzhou. The hotel is great, and we’ve met some wonderful people, but we’re ready to get outta here! One of the things that we’re awaiting in the States is taking Isabelle to a cardiologist at a top-notch hospital. We’ll have our first appointment a week after we land, and it won’t be soon enough. 

When we spoke to the orphanage caregiver last Monday, she told us that, just a few weeks ago, she’d been in the hospital again–the third time in less than a year. Her heart condition makes her more susceptible to respiratory infections, and this time she was ill with pneumonia. We’ve noticed some shallow breathing at times, but we’re not sure if that’s from the pneumonia or if that’s how she normally is. Otherwise, she’s an energetic little girl, and it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else that she has a frail heart and lungs. 

Tonight she started coughing before falling asleep, on and off for about an hour. And her breathing had a bit of a rasp. We are a bit concerned, but, thankfully, she’s sleeping soundly now without any coughing. You can be praying for her, though, that she this cough doesn’t progress into another infection. 

I am tempted to think, “Just ten more days, baby, and you can see a great doctor.” The doctor’s appointment seems like an answer–something concrete that makes me feel that we’re in control, that something is being done. Yet this little cough wakes me back up to the reality that we are in the Father’s capable, loving hands. Oh, another reminder to trust. 

A Girly Girl

It’s official. Isabelle’s a girly girl, just like her Mommy. Before we met her, I was hoping that I’d get a daughter with girly things in common, as that’s something my own Mom and I love to share. Yet, also, I’ve been the mom of a boy for so long, that having a daughter feels different in many ways–some good (hygiene!), some just different (obsessive hygiene!). 

For instance, we’ve spent less than a week with her, and her interest in clothes, looking at herself in the mirror, and beautifying are highly defined. The first time I picked out an outfit for her to wear, she shook her head “no” to the first three dresses I showed her. We went to a kids’ clothing store today, and she was pointing out dresses she liked and pulling clothes off the racks. It’s funny to see how a girl doesn’t have to be taught such things! She loves putting barrettes in her hair, combing her hair, and pretend-blowdrying her mane. And, the girl loves, loves, loves putting lotion on herself. My Mom and I are the only ones I know who are so diligent about using lotion, and now I can add Isabelle to that list. 

Another thing I’m discovering as a new mother of a daughter is her interest in hygiene. The other day, she grabbed an individually-wrapped wet wipe from the purse that the orphanage sent. I thought that she had mistaken it for a tiny pack of crackers, which we’d been told was one of her favorite snacks. Without saying a word, she proceeded to open it up, take out the wipe, wipe her mouth, pick up crumbs from the bed, and throw away the wipe. A girl after my own heart! Isabelle also loves to brush her teeth. Even though she may have already brushed hers, if she sees anyone else brushing their teeth, she wants to brush hers all over again. She also washes her hands often, even if her hands have had neither the time nor opportunity to have gotten dirty.

The sweetest and most intriguing thing–though it’s hard for me to say whether this is a girl thing, an Isabelle thing, or something else entirely–is the way that she caresses us. Sometimes she puts her little hand on our cheek and looks up into our face, or she puts her hand in ours, just to look at our two hands together. It makes me feel treasured by her already, that she is expressing affection and appreciation for finally having a mom and dad whom she can touch, hug, and kiss. 

Who's Who?

Day Three

Aside from that first afternoon, things have been going really quite smoothly. And, really, that first afternoon was a good sign; her tears and grief indicated that she had attached emotionally with someone previously. If she had accepted us easily, we actually would have been a bit concerned. 

We’re seeing positive signs that she’s already begun bonding with us. She enjoys being held by us, and it’s not in a desperate, fearful way either. She accepts our affection and offers it to us too. She likes to blow kisses, and if she catches our reflection in the mirror, she waves a greeting with an adorable smile on her face. And, last night at bedtime, she opened her arms wide then promptly fell asleep while giving me a hug! 

She also notices when one of us is not around, which is good, since it indicates that she knows we are different from other people. When Clint had gotten up to get more food at breakfast this morning, she looked around the room looking for him. Another time, she began to get concerned when Clint started taking her outside the building to play, because I was not going with them. 

In these first few days, she’s learning what to call us. She’s still a bit confused. Half the time, she calls Clint, “Mama”. (Sorry, hon!) She also often calls me “Sister” or “Auntie”. Oh, and take a seat when you watch the clip of her saying, “Isabelle,” ‘cause it just might melt you. I’ll try to get my techie hubby to post that tomorrow.

In the meanwhile, here's a clip of the giggles over bubbles on Day One.

A Few Pics From Gotcha Day and Gotcha Day +1

She sees a camera and, as often as not, adopts "The Position" - proudly proclaiming peace (or victory)!

Gotcha Day, Part 2

This will be a picture-less recap of our Gotcha Day. We're quite tired and ready for sleep, but we'll try to post pictures tomorrow. 

We arrived at 2:30 for our appointment to meet Isabelle. There was one other family with us (this part of picking up children, doing paperwork and such are done in small groups with families from the same agency or sister agency). After entering a large room filled with other adoptive families, we were ushered into a smaller room to proof some official paperwork. Then, before we were fully prepared, our guide called out our daughter’s Chinese name. “This is it? Right now???” I remember saying. I was half kidding but more taken by surprise. I was hoping to get a chance to ask the other family to help video the moment or take pictures, but instead there was barely enough time for us to grab cameras before we were face to face with Isabelle. 

Let me tell you, she did not want to be given away to us! The caregiver tried to tell her something that seemed to say, “It’s your mom and dad. Remember the pictures?” I opened up my arms to invite her to come to me, but she turned away, which was to be expected. What was not expected, however, was that she proceeded to cry non-stop for the next 45 minutes! To help her ease into accepting us, we had armed ourselves with snacks, stuffed animals, Asian faces(!), and a brother, but, alas, nothing helped. At one point, Clint was out of the room in order to ask the caregiver questions, and it was up to me to hold her. She screamed, cried big fat tears, arched her back, and looked desperately at the door, longing for her caregiver to come back. 

After what seemed like hours, Clint returned to us, and Isabelle not only stopped crying at the sight of him but reached out for him. I then prepared my heart to wait a long time for her to warm up to me. Well, so much for my female Asian face being an advantage in getting her to feel comfortable with me!

In the van ride back to the hotel, she sat on Clint’s lap–fairly contentedly at that. Somehow, the ordeal at the office was behind her, and she was now ready to drink her milk and eat a snack. Back at the hotel room, we broke out bubbles. Clint and Connor blew them; I popped them; and Isabelle just watched for a few minutes. Then finally, she popped one herself and a half-smile appeared after we cheered for her. Hooray! 

I left the room for a while at that point in order to prepare paperwork for tomorrow. And when I returned, it was like a different little girl was in the room! She was in the tub, giggling, cackling, and grinning. And, surprise! She began to giggle, cackle, and grin with me too! So, two hours after her marathon of tears, she became this happy little girl who loves to laugh! Seriously, after 4:30, she smiled or laughed 80% of the time.

I’m so thankful that God gave me patience and perspective to have compassion for her during those first few hours. Her tears and temporary rejection didn’t hurt, because I knew something she didn’t know: it may have seemed like the end of the world to her, but I knew that it was going to get better, for all of us. At that moment, all she wanted was to go back to the orphanage and to the life she knew. I couldn’t and wouldn’t let her have what she so desperately wanted, but what I could do was to hold her, wipe away her tears, and pray for her. It must be how God sees things when we’re desperate for something and aching for what our hearts have set our sights on. He won’t let us have what we want sometimes, knowing that it’s not the best, but He is near to the brokenhearted and can whisper to us, “You can’t have that, but what I have planned for you is so much better.”

Gotcha Day, Part 1

What a clever name that has been set for a day that will change four people’s lives forever. But even as I type it, I recall that I usually use the term “Gotcha!” when I've tricked someone…maybe Gotcha Day isn’t the best term.

I’m a little nervous, which is unusual for me (Clint). I feel like I am going on a first date, one with lifelong implications. (If I’m honest, that is probably the way I felt about all first dates.) Should I shave? What will she think of razor burn? Will a collared shirt look friendly or scary? I do have a superhero t-shirt that Connor suggested. (He’s the only one who isn’t nervous). Does Captain America say, “Hi, I’m your Dad?” or does it come off as too informal and a little desperate? Really, what impresses a 3-year-old girl? I’m probably the first white guy she’s ever met. That might be a little scary (for her or for me – I don't know).

As I've walked through the day in my mind, I’ve never even made it back to the hotel. What do I do then? I’ve always wrestled with Connor… do girls wrestle? Will she like to be tickled? What about swimming? I’ve been “Uncle Clint” to a good number of little girls and they liked me…. Who am I kidding, they loved me. But what did I do to earn that? Why is my mind going blank now? 

I need to pray. Please do the same for me/us.

What Timing

Well, in addition to everything else that's going on with the adoption, we'll also be moving to another city in November. I know... the timing is perfect, right? 

Since we'll be back in the States for three months for Isabelle's surgery, this only leaves one month back in this city that has been home to us for ten years. Although we're not moving just yet, some of our friends won't be here when we return. So, the goodbyes have already begun. 

I know that we'll see each other again, because these friends are more than friends. They're like family. Yet once we move, just like the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in America who share our lives only in snippets, these dear friends who’ve cried and prayed with us through the heartache of infertility and the joy of adoption (and everything in between) will only share our new life with Isabelle on weekend trips. And that makes me very sad. 

I wish Isabelle could have the chance to know and love these dear friends as we do. I wish that she could know how much they’ve joyfully anticipated her arrival. I wish that she could know how much they’ve prayed for her. I wish she could play with the great gang of kids in this apartment complex... in Missy’s Circle, at the basketball court, in the grassy grove. Yet I know and trust that what’s ahead is a good path that our loving God is leading us along. 

Friends, if you’re reading this, we three love you, and I’ll be praying that soon I can say that we four love you. 

A Little Side Note

How do we tell Isabelle that we’ve decided to name her Isabelle? Do we say, “Honey, your name is no longer Wenwu. It’s Isabelle”? (How biblical!) Or do we just start calling her Isabelle and hope she picks up on it? All the while she might be thinking to herself, Why do they keep saying this word “ih-zuh-bell”? This is kind of humorous to me. 

Anticipation

In four days, on June 27, we’ll meet Isabelle for the first time. The day is finally almost here!

Friends have asked us recently how we’re feeling. We’re a definite mix of excited and nervous. The reasons for the excitement is obvious. I’m nervous, though, for many reasons. And, really, they’re similar to what many mothers have felt–and I felt–before giving birth. Will I be a good mother? Will I like him right away? Yet, this time, I’m also wondering if she’ll like me. 

There’s a very real chance that she might give us the cold shoulder. She might burst into tears at the very sight of us. 

As one adoptive father recently told me, she’ll need to grieve her lost relationships and that her grief means that she’s bonded with others in her life, which is a very good thing. Yet if she does indeed rebuff me at the beginning, I’m praying that I’ll be woman enough not to take it personally but to be gracious to understand what she’s going through... knowing that she’ll love me back someday.

Isabelle

It was the week of Thanksgiving 2010. We were waiting for a very important phone call from our agency, telling us that we had been matched with a child. The paperwork that we’d begun to compile for the previous 11 months had led up to this. When the call came, we were thrilled! Before reviewing the second set of files for a possible match, our agency told us that she had a more serious heart condition than what we indicated we could handle. (That’s another story in itself: part of the paperwork that we had to fill out was filled with all sorts of medical conditions that we could check “Yes” or “No.” Since all the children available for adoption through this particular program are either older children or kids with health issues, we had to agonize over what our family could realistically take on, especially living overseas.) 

We opened the files and first set eyes on a picture of our little girl on November 23, 2010. Closely cropped in on her face, the photo revealed dark circles under her eyes–probably from her heart condition–and a slight look of fear. Strangely, I think that’s a part of what drew me to her. 

Over the next few days, we sent out her medical files to doctors in the States. A total of six different doctors looked at her files. There was much to process, but some phrases from the prognoses stuck out in my head: “failure to thrive,” “risk of sudden death,” and “surgery should’ve been performed yesterday.” One doctor said that, if she didn’t receive surgery to fix her heart, she would die before reaching the age of ten. 

That week both of us grieved and wept at what might happen to her and what that might mean for our family. For six years, we’d mourned through infertility and the dashed hopes and dreams that go along with it. And add a long adoption process on top of that. Was God really calling us to a possible life in which the daughter for whom we’d waited for so long could be taken from us at an early age? 

Yet a mysterious thing happened that week. Somehow, instead of being scared away by the news from doctors, our hearts became increasingly drawn to her. It wasn’t out of pity. It wasn’t because someone gave us false hopes. God was giving us an unshakable sense of His leading; He was giving us an ability to see her as our daughter and to trust Him to follow Him down this road even though the path was scary and unsure. 

It wasn’t logical, and it didn’t make sense. But one day we’ll get the chance to tell Isabelle how the God of the universe brought us together. 

The ramblings begin...

So I've daydreamed starting a blog. This is from a girl who posts a new status on Facebook once every full moon. Okay, I jest! However, I am a perfectionist who likes to get things done only when they're done right. (My family simply loves this about me!)

Well, since we are a mere two-plus weeks away from picking up our daughter from her orphanage, why not start one now? After our lives settle down, I may have nothing exciting to post (therefore resorting to writing about chronically dry cuticles or something), but I'm kinda excited.

I can't promise any giveaways for iPads (though if you want to give me one, let's talk), but I can promise... Let's get real here, I can't make any promises, or my perfectionism-induced procrastination will kick in.

So, here it is!