To My Little Moon

Written on Sept. 21, 2012

To my Little Moon,

I didn't expect to be writing this to you...ever really.  I really thought this letter would start out "Dear Little Miss," but it isn't and I find myself grinning widely at the thought.

Just like your brothers before you, your appearance in my life was sudden, unexpected, and filled with a deep sense of peace.  And just like your big brother Little Bro, I have to apologize for the months I have spent pouring over your bio on the waiting child list, praying for a family to find you.  I kept coming back to you, daily; I even started showing you to Appa regularly with a tut tut why can't a family see what an amazing child this is?

Why indeed could I not see, could I not listen to my heart that kept drawing me to you?

Unlike your brother, I didn't wake up one morning with the conviction of a mother than you were mine. Honestly, I didn't even ask for your file.  But life/fate/divinity/karma helped push a bit and a week ago today your file was in my inbox.  I gasped at your cuteness (oh the cuteness!) and tried to imagine life with three boys close in age.  And although I didn't get a "no," I didn't get a "YES" either.

But I knew you were special, and so Appa and I were careful.  We were careful to make sure we could be the family you deserved.  Careful to make sure we could still be the parents Little Bug and Little Bro deserved.  Careful to make sure the dream of Little Miss was one we could let go of.

When I realized I could let go of that dream easily and with finality, that's when I started to believe I could really be so lucky as to be your mama.

And in the last 36 hours I have felt my heart expand.  You went from a sweet little boy to my sweet little boy. I started missing you.

I woke up this morning and I knew.  I knew you were going to be my son.  And so when Appa agreed this evening, I knew this wasn't just a "next step" step but the pivotal step towards you.  We're still months away from sending an acceptance to Korea, and yet tonight I feel like I just did.

From this moment on, no matter the status of our paperwork, I have three sons in my heart.  And I know that someday I'll look back on this night and find it hard to imagine a life without my Little Moon.

In Between Doses

It's been over a month since I wrote in this space.

Honestly, I didn't have words.  To blournal the small things seemed wrong when the BIG things were looming.  But the BIG things felt too overwhelming to write about, and frankly, I just didn't want to vent and moan.

But the truth is, that little pill kicks some serious baby butt.  The first few weeks were filled with side effects--horrible, sad side effects that left my sweet boy in physical and emotional pain.  That, in turn, left Appa and I nearly bereft for him.  Once the side effects tapered off, it became apparent the dose was too low, so we had to increase the dose again, restarting the side effects.

Swallow, melt down, repeat.  Swallow, melt down, repeat.

The bad news is that I have a mother's intuition that this dose/particular medication isn't going to be the right fit either.  The good news is I have total faith in our doctor and appreciate the slow and conservative approach to medicating a child off label (due to age).

The best news is that Little Bug is still thriving and continuing to improve his knowledge and capability to help himself.  We've made some big decisions for his education this Fall that we hope will give him his very best shot at making the most of his last pre-K year.  Although we are very much in the present with him right now, we're serious about positioning him for his academic future, and I am excited to start taking advantages of the many unique resources we have available.

As an aside: giving up a master bathroom to get into a really good school district was one of the best decisions I ever made.  Way to go, me 6 years ago!

So, the thing is, I need to move on from this.  Swallow, melt down, repeat is going to continue for a while, and I can't just censor myself anymore while I wallow in the cycle with my baby love. I'm going to make a concerted effort to blournal more about the daily things like I used to.  Maybe I will blournal about Little Bug's new trick of taking his underoos off and peeing on the floor when he gets angry or about Little Bro's daily expository speeches.  Maybe I'll blournal about my baby sister moving the the freaking Philippines for an 18-month mission or how she and I wasted an hour and a half watching possibly the most pointless movie in the whole world simply because Adam Brody was in it (my choice).

And Lee Min Ho is filming a new drama.  Since Appa just bought me the complete Rosetta stone for Korean, I'm now officially on my way to becoming fluent in my children's' birth language.....right?

Or maybe I will blournal about the week we just spent on my Aunt's farm in Michigan.  How Little Bug and Little Bro had smiles mile wide on their faces from morning to night with attitudes to match.  How perfect it was.

And can be.

And is.

An Apology to My Little Bug

It's been a lonely couple of weeks for me.

Sometimes being a mom of a kid with special needs, especially behavioral special needs, just plain sucks.  It's stressful, emotionally draining, depressing, and scary, which leads some (me) into periods of isolation as I try to swing our family pendulum back into sync with some serious sleep and diet modifications and a super low-key environment.  Even as I took the boys on a 5-day vacation last week, I felt so off, a mirror to Little Bug's off mood (that was likely a bit of a cycle between the two of us by the end).

And that isolation extended to my writing, which I deliberately avoided, simply because the things I wanted to say were not things I actually wanted to say.

In fact, I just had about seven additional paragraphs to this post detailing my last couple weeks that I just deleted.  Because it wasn't what I wanted to say.

Instead, I want to write about how amazing my Little Bug is and how humbled I am tonight to be his mother.

Little Bug came to us as a sweet, beautiful 10-month-old infant.  He's always been so far behind in development that Appa and I just grew accustomed to parenting him at his delayed age.  He was our first child, and our parenting experience has been entirely built upon ignoring all conventional parenting methods and milestones. What we have given as compassion, acceptance, and avocation have in some instances been nothing more than enabling or selfishness.

That has now been put into blessed clarity for us.

Little Bug is a couple months away from turning 4.  Yet, he has never been formally sleep trained and has been cosleeping in a most unhealthy way since his first birthday.  Why have we never bitten the bullet and kicked this habit?  Oh, that would be because he couldn't be walk, then he couldn't stay in his big boy bed, then he couldn't fall asleep without us, then he needed his sleep and it was easier to put him to sleep in our bed, then we would be going on vacation, then he was getting a new room, then he got a new brother, then then then then then.

All excuses, every one of them.  The real reasons were that Appa and I loved having him cuddle in our bed with us and that we simply didn't have enough faith in him to be able to go to sleep on his own and cognitively follow the rules.

In the last four days, he's almost completely sleep trained.  We still have tears, but they are short.  And most importantly, he understands the expectations and accepts them.  Appa and I are ashamed to think of the YEARS of sleep deprivation we have imposed on our tough son simply because we underestimated him. 

And we started potty training him today, too.  Again, I didn't think this would work, at all.  If anything, I thought Little Bro would potty train and help eventually with Little Bug's training.  After only 4 hours, my son who has never peed on the potty in any intentional way was telling us, over and over during dinnertime, no less, that he needed to go potty.  He kept his big boy pants dry for hours as he motored back and forth to put his business where it needed to be.  (And he started taking the stairs without holding any railings.....another first for this super kid.)

In 3 days, I actually think he'll be potty trained.  Officially.  And it shocks me, to be honest.  Both Appa and I are pretty incredulous.

And we're both a bit humbled and ashamed to have underestimated our son in such huge ways.  In every challenge we've thrown his way, he's breezed through it.  Not even really struggled, but just breezed through it.  He's shown us time and time again that he's up for the challenge.

We just haven't been challenging him like we thought we were.

So although there are still a lot of challenges facing Little Bug that can't be fixed with a modified sleep training program or a 3-day miracle potty training program, there are a lot of little life lessons that Little Bug IS probably ready for.  And that is going to force us to change how we parent him a bit, which includes me cutting out some of our isolation therapy. Which is probably going to make us all happier.

I know every mother thinks this of their child, but I just really feel deeply that there is something special about Little Bug and what his future holds.  Of course I think Little Bro is very special, too, but I feel strongly that Little Bug was given his gifts of a fighting spirit, charming disposition, and joy of life to turn his challenges into something really amazing.  He's going to inspire people in some way, some day; I know it.  I know it.   And someday, when he reads this note from his mother in the midst of all my random musings, I hope he knows that I, more than anyone else in this world, have been blessed beyond measure by him simply being who he is.

Written on March 29, 2011

One year ago today my son entered my life.  Even though it would be a full month until all the other factors fell into place to make it so, one year ago today, before I had even seen his file which would come the following day, I knew.

I sat down at the computer 1 year ago today and wrote him a letter.  A letter than I had no business writing to this child, but that I absolutely knew would one day be read by him.

There are few things in life that I have felt as uncharacteristically, blindly faithful about as I did that day 1 year ago.  File be damned, finances be damned, business associations be damned.  I just knew that the child behind that little square of a picture was the child that Appa and I would both ultimately agree was going to be our son. For someone who likes to err on the side of emotional caution and pessimism, I was full of wild abandon when it came to loving this child.

And now, 1 year later, a little white dresser in my home is filled with clothes he will wear in just over a week.  My calendar has appointments that he and I will go to together. My home is about to become his home, my traditions his traditions, my family his family.....

My heart simply his.

In the last 365 days, never once have I wavered from that wild abandon.  I've felt such peace.  Truly, such peace.

All because 1 year ago Appa and I followed an insane urge to jump outside the plan, our comfort zone, our expectations.

Thank God for today.

As It Should Be

In the back of my mind, in the tiny spot I try to keep shut up, I wondered how I would react when the number we had with our old agency came up; what I would feel when I saw the picture of the child that would have been ours had we kept to our original plan and not accepted Little Bro's referral. I'm not sure what exactly I was worried about feeling, but I was worried about my reaction. I feel guilty for going there, but I think it is probably a pretty natural curiosity.

Luckily, I'll never really know because more than one number came up yesterday, making it impossible to know for sure which child would have been matched to our family had our specific file still been in line.

But as for the pictures that I did see....I felt a whole lot of nadda. Sure, I was THRILLED for those families and totally enamored with their beautiful children, but that was all it was....reactions to their joy and THEIR sons. Perhaps I was secretly worried that I would see one of the pictures and think "Oh my God, that was supposed to be my son. I've made a huge mistake."

But of course, none of that came because I didn't make a huge mistake and those kids were not meant to be my son. The head trip your brain can take you on is nothing compared to the truth your heart can provide you. The feelings I had when I first saw Little Bro's picture were something rare and special and I knew it was right then, and I know it is right now.

Especially this morning when, out of the blue, a new picture showed up in my inbox. And the reaction that I was lacking when looking at the children of the other families....

Oh, it was there in SPADES when I saw my son's face again.

Going With The Gut

I had the most fabulous, stress-free vacation of my life. It was filled with lazy contentment, warm air, good friends, and vibrant colors. I kept thinking that I would want to blournal the heck out of it, but I find now that I simply don't have the words and am okay with that. Jamaica, no problem, mon. I know I won't forget the way I felt, even without writing it down.

Instead, I want to publish a post I wrote a couple days before we left (there are quite a few that I have written but couldn't publish at the time). We headed out for our vacation still very much up in the air as to what my gut feeling was telling me regarding our "big decision."

I'll say this. In that place that will forever hold a special place in my heart, everything became as clear as the electric teal blue water. Gut feelings don't care about external factors like money or businesses or ease. Gut feelings only deal with the big things...the ones that matter. Once we has removed ourselves temporarily from reality, it was obvious to us that only one gut feeling remained.

So we went with it. The sense of peace when I think about those things that really matter is proof that we made the right choice.

I wish I could go back to April 12 and give myself a hug.

-----------------------------
April 12, 2010
I had a good cry last night about something a situation that turned out to be different that what I thought it was. As Appa comforted me, he kept asking why I was crying. In his mind, the situation was a bummer, but not anything more than that. Our most important goal was still attainable.

So why was I crying?

Besides anxiety (and perhaps because of it), I hate change. I use the word hate deliberately. As young as I can remember, when my mother would rearrange furniture in our living room I would lay on the floor sick to my stomach. (Needless to say, I don't rearrange furniture in my own home.) When we have moved from each apartment, I've been nauseous and weepy for days leading up to the move. Granted, I put on a good face and push through it and am fine in a few days, but change is something I will go out of my way to avoid, especially if it is something important. Part of the reason I am so loyal to things (big and small) is simply because I don't want to change my comfortable status quo. I wear the same clothes from the same stores and use the same services from the same companies because that is comforting to me. It takes an awful lot to get me to switch.

Lately we've been considering an decision that would result in some change. Not dramatic change to those around us or to those who know us, but dramatic change for us internally (to use a business term). My knee-jerk reaction to this is to avoid the change. Indeed, this would be the easy route and the one that logically makes sense. It causes me anxiety to think about making a change and I find myself subconsiouly trying to convince myself to huddle back into my warm status quo and just forget all about it.

But my gut is telling me to be brave and stay open to the possibility of change. So, I am trying to be brave, but it's making my nervous and making me second guess my gut feelings. Then I second guess my second guessing and get dizzy from my spinning, ridiculous mind.

I'm not always sure why I get the gut feelings I do. Some people would call it divine and some would call it coincidence and some would call it intuition. Me, I'm sitting on the fence and just calling it something I know I should be listening to. I certainly do know that it isn't always as clear cut as I think. A couple months ago I got a gut feeling to act on something that ended up causing Appa and I some heartache. I wondered later why I would have felt so strongly about something for such a short period of time, only to feel equally as strongly about it the other way later on. My answer came earlier this month when the things I learned about myself from the last situation clicked into place allow us to explore this new opportunity.
--------------------
That decision was to drop out of our agency and accept a referral for a little boy we found on a waiting child list. I cried this morning when I pushed send on the final e-mail that would remove us from what we had clung to for so long, but the sense of peace I feel reminds me that my love for the little boy who is going to be my son is much stronger than the love for my former agency.

Little Bro has arrived.

Safe

After some space from yesterday, I'm in a better place and not even really thinking about what is happening "behind the scenes." As I was rocking Little Bug to bed last night, I was thinking about how much we would lose if the worst were to happen, and I realized it was very little.

A significant amount of money, maybe. An entire year waiting, yes. An expected and anticipated family plan, sort of.

Little Bro, no.

The fact of the matter is, Little Bro is meant to come to our family in his own time. Perhaps that time is not now. If that is the case, I will have to accept that the factors that dictated that were what needed to happen for our family to form the way it was meant to. I won't like it, but I will accept it.

I also realized that the most important things in my life are not affected by this situation, either way it shakes out. Little Bug is still my son. Nothing in the world can take him from my arms. Nothing. Appa is still my husband and the father of my son. He will be my partner in replanning our family if it comes to that.

My family is safe. Little Bro and Little Sis are safe in my heart until the time is right.

With all that being said, my gut is telling me things will be okay. My gut is telling me Little Bro is almost ready to say hello. My gut is telling me things will work out for everyone. If it doesn't, it doesn't, but I think that it will.

Tap, tap, tap

This is going to sound insane, especially in light of my post a few days ago, but it's funny how life changes.

And my sneaky gut, well, she and I need to have a little talk about consistency and timing. A few days ago we made the decision to go on hold for our second adoption. It wasn't like we were backing out, but the decision affected me very much, so much more than I had expected it to. I was so sure that we were doing the right thing, and yet, I was still very uneasy about the situation. Sneaky, sneaky gut.

My friend JoJo talks a lot about shoulder taps; those little moments that whisper "this was meant to be" or "you are on the right track." Our family's first adoption journey was more like a series of shoulder pounds or face slaps or body slams, but most were only evident after the fact and delightfully ironic.

The last two days, however, I've been getting those little taps. Who knew my gut had hands?

We went on hold primarily because we were concerned about Little Bug's development, specifically walking. So we went on hold.

A few days later, he starts walking. Tap, tap, tap.

We went on hold because I worried about having two little babies on my own while Appa traveled weekly.

This week he heard that his travel might be limited for the foreseeable future, allowing him to be home for some of the crucial evening hours. Tap, tap, tap.

Today we heard about even more referrals coming in from our agency, so many in fact that our social worker contacted us to let us know we were getting up on the list. And Appa, who has been always very vocal about waiting, suddenly went "well, maybe……" Tap, tap, tap.

So I mulled it over. Was I ready? Was my family ready? Is the anxiety I am feeling because I am thinking about getting a referral, or is it due to thinking about NOT getting a referral? Is Little Bro already out there?

The answer that we came to after prayer and some deep conversations about our gut feelings is, yes, we believe he is. So, as of today, we are off hold.

I know. I KNOW. Crazy. I'm getting whiplash just thinking about it.

Suddenly I started thinking about where I would put Little Bro, how we would have to rearrange our home, our lives. REALLY thinking about it as a possibility instead of some abstract thing like vacation or new piece of furniture.

And it feels right. Really right, actually.

This isn’t to say that we are ready for a referral right now. I don't believe we are. But, I do believe we will be ready when the time is right, and it feels right to trust that process. It might be January when we get Little Bro's referral, and it might be April or May. Either way, it will be right.

Today I am at peace more than I have been in a long while. Glad to have you back, gut. I've missed you.

PS--I want to thank those of you who are reading this and apologize for the swing in emotions lately. It's been an emotional period of time for me, and I think I am just now figuring out why. So, thanks for understanding that my blournal entries come from emotions that I am working out or documenting. I think someday it will be interesting for me to look back and see how my family was changed in just one week's worth of decisions and events. Just probably not on a day when I am changing two-humans' worth of diapers.

Bring Back That Gutty Feeling...

I wanted to preserve this post that I wrote Saturday morning, less than a day after Little Bug's formal assessment, but I also wanted to get it out there in a timely fashion. It was hard for me to write and just felt off, which is why I ultimately left it as a draft. After the distance of a few days, I think it is important that I do publish it for myself (I am, after all, using this as a journal for myself among other things).

I'm exceptionally thankful for the providence that scheduled this meeting and the adoption conference I attended on the same weekend. As you will see, my heart was heavy for both my sons, and the conference helped lift me up for both of them. I had a false sense of control over Little Bro's adoption, one that made me think that controlling the timing was best for us. Ultimately, I still do have control over the timing; that control just isn't the same type I thought is was.

That is okay. It's all okay. It will all work out exactly the way it should. My family comes first, and as long as I continue to hold true to that, everything will be okay.

I have that gut feeling that it will be.

-------------------------------------------------
Saturday, October 31, 2009

ohhh, that gutty feeling
Bring back that gutty feeling, now it's gone, gone, gone

Like I mentioned in the last post, yesterday was our big assessment. The overriding mood of the meeting was positive and optimistic for Little Bug's long term life, and Appa and I got lots of great information. I went into the meeting with a little more realistic outlook than Appa did, so I think some of it was a bit more of a shock to him than it was to me. Although, honestly, very little of it felt good to hear.

Bottom line, "the overall number" was lower than we both thought it would be. Significantly lower, quite frankly. Although it doesn't change a darn thing physically or emotionally for any of us, last night was a solemn evening for Appa and I. One thing I have learned throughout all our many "life trials" is that you have to let yourself grieve in order to be true to yourself and move on. Last night we privately and quietly grieved for...I don't even know what I would call it...disappointment in the situation? (Because we are certainly not disappointed in Little Bug at all!)

Anyway, today is a new day, and we have moved on. We've started with some new suggestions and are continuing to plug away at our daily lives. Little Bug is stronger than he was yesterday. We love him more than we did yesterday. But, overall, life is no different today than it was yesterday.

However, that was a long, roundabout way to get to the point of this post. Gut feelings.

I'm a huge believer in them, and will nearly always "go with my gut" on things. Today though, I am confused because I don't have a gut feeling that I desperately wish I did. I guess I've never looked for one before without just automatically having it.

One about Little Bro.

It makes my heart and head hurt to even write this, but with this confirmation of Little Bug's delays and the realistic time frames we are looking at with his continued progress, our thoughts turn to our next adoption, which is scheduled to go "paper ready" in two weeks. We have both felt strongly that we would not be ready to receive a referral for Little Bro until after Little Bug starts walking, and recently told our social worker that we didn't want a referral before March 2010 and would go on hold if necessary to ensure that Little Bug (and us) had enough time to prepare.

Now I wonder if that is even too soon.

My heart aches with the idea of waiting longer. My heart wants two little boys close in age, and my heart wants Little Bro to come home next year. I want.

But my head is whispering that I don't need or want Little Bro to eclipse his big brother in motor skills and other development. I don't need or want to have to try to deal with all the issues of attachment and bonding and babyness with Little Bro while still actively trying to get Little Bug to some semblance of age-appropriate independence.

Never mind what Little Bug actually needs and wants...things that are infinitely more important than my own needs and wants.

Part of me isn't sure I actually could do it (it being effective parenting for both boys) right now. I worry about spiraling even deeper into post adoption blues the second time around. I worry about Appa's job that requires so much travel. I worry about giving Little Bug the extra attention he needs along with the extra attention Little Bro would deserve. I worry about pretty much everything. It's suffocating.

Crap. Writing it down makes it more clear. My gut is probably telling me to wait and watch and listen, and if it doesn't feel right in March, then it is probably wrong and I need to prepare myself to be strong enough to let Little Bro go for a little longer. The fact that I am even thinking about it is my sneaky gut giving me a heads up.

I hate letting go.

The Unintended Road, Part II

Well, not really, but that title just sort of stuck with me.

First, thanks for the comments on the last few posts. After I posted my little missive, I was a little overwrought with whether or not I had been too truthful, or whether I had accurately conveyed that while I was feeling the things I was feeling, I truly AM happy exactly where I am (which, at this moment, happens to be listening to Classical Baby and the background sounds of Appa and Little Bug snoring away in a much fought for nap).

However, I've also been thinking a lot more since that post, and I've come up with a lot of other parts of my life that have changed in the last year....unintended changes, if you will. All of them are positive too, which is nice.

Today I am moved to write about one. Little Bro.

I've probably not mentioned Little Bro before because he currently lives in my heart and perhaps is starting to live in his birthmother's womb, although I cannot be sure about that (see previous post about no longer placing dates on things outside my control).

One year ago, Appa and I had a plan. This plan included loving on Little Bug like there was no tomorrow and putting in our application for our next adoption as soon as we could (which was 6 month ago, today, hence why it's on my mind).

Only one year ago, Little Bro was Little Sis.

I'm dead serious when I say that I need to be the mother to a daughter. It's this huge, not-so-secret wish of mine. I need to be knee deep in ribbons and lace and sugar and spice and everything nice. So, it was a given that our next adoption would be requesting a girl.

Then that pesky "gut feeling" of mine started rearing its gutty-head. (I say gut, but I'm also well aware that it is something much more divine than that...it's just hard for me to really know what that is right now.) I would dream of two little BOYS playing together. Constantly. I had trouble imagining Little Bug with Little Sis, and I would get a bad feeling whenever I would tell myself to "shake this off."

Oh man, I was PISSED.

I want a girl soooo badly, and yet, we had always thought we would adopt three kids, two boys and a girl....just not in that order.

Or apparently, exactly in that order. Finally, I mentioned to Appa that I had been feeling that perhaps--I couldn't believe I was going to say it--we should apply for another boy instead of a girl, which he was fine with. Still, I struggled with this dream I didn't want to let go of at that moment.

Yet, when the time came to put in our application and we checked "either" (which in our agency's lingo = boy), I cried tears of joy. It felt right. This unintended road we were embarking on was exactly the right road for us.

So, 6 months later, and I am thinking of my second son and excited to see him someday. I fantasize about my two little boys playing together and of being that mama with two boys. Heck, I am still clueless about raising one boy, but I am thrilled to see what it's like to raise two. Truly, I am tickled blue about it.

And Little Sis? Oh, she is still here, wrapped in soft pink wishes in my heart. I know I'll see her someday, somewhere, somehow.

And if I don't? It will be because that pesky gut told me no. If that is the case, I will respect that....and then go play with some trucks.

The Unintended Road

Just because this isn't where I thought I would be 1 year ago, doesn't mean that it's not exactly where I am supposed to be.

I debated writing this, but it has been rattling (pounding) around in my head and the point of this blog was for me to be more honest with my emotions, even when I don't like them. Lately a few more people I know in non-anonymous blog and real life have found this blog (which I am more than happy about), but I wondered if I should hold back a touch since this isn't something I would put on my family blog or chat up over a cup of coffee. But my friend Elizabeth recently reminded me that it's healthy to be honest about your emotions, both good and bad, and your honestly will help others and help yourself. So here I go.

Tomorrow (or in a couple hours from now depending on how you look at it time-wise), I will have had Little Bug in my arms for 1 year. It's been the best year of my life in every way that truly counts.

But it has also been a very hard year.

We have been celebrating our family's journey all week and tomorrow will culminate with a small party and the beginning of some cool traditions. I've been looking forward to this for a long time (a year?). I've dreamed about how this celebration would go and where we would be 1-Year-Later.

Honestly, it wasn't exactly here.

Close, for sure. I dreamed of a fully adjusted child and parents who loved to be with each other. Check please, and if that was all I could ever have, I would be happy with just that. Look, I'm so happy I could burst that Little Bug has been home for a year and that we have hit this milestone that for some reason seems so important to me, but the fact of the matter is that I never imagined that we would hit this milestone without hitting other milestones first.

Walking, talking, not drooling, good balance, playing age-appropriately….these are all things that I convinced myself would be distance memories a year later. And well, they are not. In fact, these last few weeks have been exceptionally frustrating. Little Bug's braces, which were "supposed" to help him walk sooner, have in fact caused more harm than good. New braces have an eta of 3 months….3 MONTHS. Little Bug is making good, if slow, progress with other areas, which I am thrilled with, but he still has a long way to go. Carrying around a heavy almost 2-year-old EVERYWHERE is not an easy task day in and day out. Today I spent 30 minutes ordering a neoprene body suit complete with straps to tighten appendages that my little baby will have to wear all the time. A body suit on a baby. It's par for the course in my life now, and that is okay. Little Bug rocks all sorts of awesome therapy vests and braces and still looks like a million cute bucks.

But in some fleeting moments, I can't help by acknowledge that it is a slightly bitter pill to swallow. I'm thankful that my struggles with infertility (all those Christmas morning where I swore I would have a baby to shower with gifts the next year, only to wake up the next year's Christmas morning with that hurt fresh in my heart) have taught me that thinking that I am "owed" something or that I can put a date or expectation on something outside of my control is just setting myself up for being disappointed (this has helped with our next adoption, too, as an added bonus). I couldn't help but put dates and labels on Little Bug's development when he first came home and I was struggling to make sense of our new reality, but I refuse to now. Little Bug will develop at his own pace…and I love him all the more for it.

I'm not trying to throw a pity party or looking for sympathy, because I have the most awesome child on the face of the planet, and he is healthy and happy, but this anniversary has brought back some dark moments of desperate promises and expectations I had no right to make to myself. It doesn't mean I don't love my son or that I am not proud of his significant progress, but I just had to get off my chest this slight tingle of grief that the road we have walked this last year and will continue to walk was not the road we had intended.

The positive of this post is that if 1 year ago I was able to fast forward to this moment and see us as we are today, I wouldn't change a single thing.

Well, I might bring some more snacks, but I would still take Appa and Little Bug's hands and walk (or scoot/crawl/cruise) this exact same road. Each step we take is one more step we were meant to take, and that helps me in these moments when I feel down.

I didn't want to post this tomorrow, because tomorrow is a day of pure joy. I'm being kind and allowing myself this little moment of honesty because tomorrow I am going to PAR-TY it up with some balloons, a sweet Family Day cupcake cake, and my rocking awesome boys.

No Wonder I Have A Huge Ego

Today two things happened that are completely unrelated to one another and simultaneously totally belong on the same day.

Event One: When I went to pick Little Bug from daycare today, one of the teachers who doesn't usually teach Little Bug was in the room. She proceeded to loudly proclaim to me that Little Bug was "the most loved and favorite child in the whole school." She said other teachers that had no business in the "Waddler Room" would regularly pop in to see Little Bug. This obviously made me feel great, but wasn't surprising. This might sound vain, and I know every mother thinks her baby is the best, but I actually think I have an unhealthy complex where I might sorta-kinda think that MY baby actually is the very best in the whole world. Comments like this do little to bring my baby mama ego in check.

Event Two: I decided to take our family blog private. I've been so attached to that blog for years, and it serves not only as our primary daily connection to our families (who lives across the country), but as a family journal (thank you blurb.com)! It grew from a tiny little "here's what boring old us did this week" to 100+ hits-a-day adoption/family blog/soap box. Appa hated the increase in nameless, faceless readers. It freaked him out. Normally it would freak me out, too. I am, after all, the one who insisted we remain unlisted in the phone directory....you know, just in case. Yet, for some reason I clung to that open blog.

The honest reason is that I loved to brag about my kid. He's so cute and funny. I liked to brag about our family' story and how we became a family. I liked sharing our diary posts from our time in Korea.

I liked people liking us.

But, in the back of my mind, a little voice has been growing louder and louder...telling me that what I was doing, the kind of information I was providing (and I'm not talking address and SSN here, but it wouldn't have taken a savvy hacker to find that stuff based on our blog information), was not in the best interest of my family.

Geez. When I put it that way.

So today when someone who I clearly didn't know from an area of the world that I really had a hard time believing anyone who would care about us was web surfing spent 1.5 hours reading every post I have written, every comment my family and friends have written in response, my gut reaction was "take the blog private."

Logical leap? Perhaps not. However, almost 11 months ago Appa and I were faced with the biggest decision of our lives, and it wasn't an easy one. Literally days before we were to get on the plane to go get Little Bug we got some news that was, in both our American agency and the Korean agency's eyes, a deal-breaker for most soon-to-be parents. With our bags half packed and our hearts full of desperate love and numbing fear, we had to decide whether or not to follow through with our intention to adopt Little Bug. We had little information and a lot of unknowns.

My gut told me then to get on that plane and get my baby.

So maybe my gut telling me today to take my blog private was nothing more than one too many Diet Dr. Peppers before 11 am, or maybe it was something more divine. Either way, when my gut talks now, I listen.

So, back to Event One and Event Two. I think my vanity highlighted in event one is feeding into the sadness I feel over losing the public blogging of event two. Perhaps this private blog will be good for my family in more ways than one.

But seriously, Little Bug is so freaking awesome.