Summer Lovin'

Joy. Relief. Hope.

That's what Appa and I have been feeling the last couple days.  Pure joy and relief and hope.  Our precious son has finally been able to shake the very disturbing emotional side effects from his latest dosage tweak, and in place of all that turmoil has come happiness. 

Little Bug's smile, literally one of my favorite things in the entire world, is back and wider than ever.  He is becoming more verbal, more creative, more confident, and more peaceful.  He is seeking out activities on his own and testing his comfort level away from me.  He is trying harder at challenges, instead of giving up and melting down (or not trying at all).  He is making up stories and pretending to be a cat and dog and chef and monster.  He is counting into his teens and singing songs from memory.

A couple days ago he hopped on the couch while I was in another room,  turned on his iPad, and played independently for over 15 minutes.  NOTHING about that last sentence is anything short of extraordinary for our status quo.

Last night he played, mainly alone, in our sandbox for over an hour.  ONE HOUR.  Never, other than sleeping, has he attended to a stationary activity for anywhere close to that amount of time.  And we had to bribe him out with food.  Which Appa and I were both loathe to do as we would have much rather continued to sit with stupid grins on our faces and watch him make "pumpkins" and laugh big belly laughs.

Is this all because of a pill?  Honestly, I think much of it is.

The pill isn't causing these changes in him, but it is giving his brain a little breathing room to really explore its potential and share that with us.  This child has been a super hero fighter from infancy, and my heart gets fluttery just thinking about how much more he is going to be able to accomplish in the coming months, and how proud and happy that will make him.

This dose we are currently crushing on probably isn't the right dose for him academically, but it's summer and he's only got one more week of hardcore summer school before we head off for a vacation filled with Grandmas and a summer of mainstream "fun" preschool.  Although Appa and I know he needs a higher dose, we've decided to let him enjoy his newfound happiness for the summer.

Little Bug deserves to have a summer filled with endless hours of sandboxes and bikes and laughter.  And I am so grateful that he's going to get the chance to have it.

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.

Fru-fru Me Culpa

Appa and I aren't really "fru-fru" people.  We are fair-weather organic consumers, don't bat an eye processed foods, and love our over-the-counter medicines in a variety of dye-laden flavors (although, for the record, I have made a massive effort to remove dyes and HFCS from our purchases).  It's not that we are skeptics of a more natural, holistic lifestyle (far from it, actually), rather, we just aren't enough of believers to make the financial and emotional commitments.

But faced with the ever-increasing ticking clock that demands something be found to help Little Bug with his focus and impulses, we've started throwing everything at the wall to see if anything sticks.  The honest truth is that medications are likely, but if we can supplement some of his needs with something other than medication, that is worth any amount of money or commitment to us.

So after some chats with some friends whose opinions and knowledge I value and respect (and admire so so much) regarding essential oil therapy our developmental pediatrician recommended, I invested in two small, but expensive bottles of oils.  One was a blend for calming, and the other is an oil that has been proven effective for increasing focus in children with ADD/ADHD, a component of Little Bug's needs that we need to address soon.

Honestly, when I opened the box and found the two itty bitty vials, my stomach dropped.  This was going to end up in the pile of fails along with weighted vest, chew sticks, the lamb clock, mouth vibr@tors, benick bands, speech whistles, the tummy time spinner, etc.  When you have spent 3 years throwing crap at the wall with little sticking, it makes you jaded.  So yes, I admit, I had buyer's remorse before ever opening the oils.

For about a week, I sort of muddled around with the oils, applying them on Little Bug's neck sometimes and just expecting it to work.  Finally, I figured I needed to give it a real go to at least rule it out before our next meeting with our doctor.  So I read up again on the studies and took steps to learn how to best administer the oils for maximum effect.

Wouldn't you know, the last 6 days have been great.  Sure, Little Bug still has a lot of needs that can't be overcome with oils, but there has absolutely been a change in his actions and demeanor in the last few days.  He sat through Korean class in a pretty age-appropriate manner with a big smile on his face, and he has been willing to sit and color or chat or work on a puzzle longer and without the constant fidgeting.  His "fits" are decreasing in frequency and intensity.  When he inhales the oil he seems to truly calm down a bit.  Call me crazy, but it seems to be making a positive and tangible difference.

Could it be a coincidence that the day we started using the oil was the day he started swinging into a good stretch?  Yes.  But the change has been enough that we ordered a special diffuser for his bedroom (of course the oil we need to use is too thick for traditional oil diffusers), a clay necklace for continuous inhalation during the day, and are pulling the oils out throughout the day.  Because if something makes our son's road just a little bit easy for him to walk, we're going to commit to it.

There is something so exciting about finding something that actually helps increase Little Bug's quality of life.  I'm so grateful to be surrounded by such well-rounded people who can give me perspectives that I might not otherwise find.

The Frame

In 2009, I bought a "Santa&Me" frame in my expectant mother glow.  The following Christmas, that empty frame broke the dam on some emotions I had bottled up, and it wasn't pretty. 

This year I filled that frame with an epic "Santa&Me" picture of Little Bro and his BFF.  I smiled so wide it nearly hurt every time I saw those two frames proudly displayed. And today, I smiled peacefully as I packed up the rest of my Christmas stuff, because I packed away not two, but three frames.

Little Miss needs a picture frame to match her oppas, naturally.

I don't know when that frame will make it out of the wrapping, but I can guarantee it won't be this coming year or even the next.  And that timing is what is ideal for our family, so the Christmas futures where that frame will be tucked safely away don't make me sad in the slightest.

But the fact is, Little Miss is in my heart in a way she has never been before. She's not just a dream anymore, but a real future, and we are looking for her, waiting for her, hoping for her.

With Little Bug and Little Bro, we (I) made big announcements all the time.  We (I) wrote blog posts about the smallest details and the most insignificant of steps.  This time around, due to a couple of factors, the biggest being the long and completely unpredictable time frame of referral and travel in our specific situation, we (not just I) have decided to keep Little Miss' process low key. Of course, me blournaling this is hardly keeping it secret, but that isn't our intention, and everyone that should know already does.  Rather, we've done the adoption-OMG!!!! thing for so long that it's time to just live our lives and celebrate the big things when they eventually come along.  I promised Appa I would be less crazytown this time, and I intend to hold to that.

However, I really just need to acknowledge the fact that we are on our way to our daughter, and that we are so very happy and excited about it.  And someday, when she reads this amidst the pages and pages devoted to her brothers, she will know that her adoption was just as special and just as exciting and joyful.

Buying that frame when I knew full well that it wouldn't be used for years was my attempt to put that out into the universe.  I won't have a closet filled with dresses and bows for quite some time, but in my crawl space a frame will be waiting to be filled.  When I packed it away, I packed it away with a smile and a wish in my heart.  It won't be filled for many years, and I am okay with that.  The fact that it will be filled is the most important thing.

Little Miss, when you someday read this, know that you've been loved and hoped for from the beginning...just more in our hearts.

Brothers

Little Bug is so ready.

A year and a half ago Appa and I were concerned that we would need to “go on hold” due to Little Bug’s needs.  One year ago we knew Little Bug was closer to being ready and felt comfortable with the 6-8 month window we knew we had between Dong Sang’s referral and go time for Hyung. Of course, when 6-8 months stretched to 12-15 months total, the only bright spot was giving Little Bug a little more time as an only child.

And, at almost exactly a year later, our baby bug is no longer a baby and SO, SO, SO ready to be a big brother.  He’s blossomed so much in the last few months (and I know I always say that, but this kid, he is doing some mind blowing things lately).  His social habits have really evened out, and every morning and evening are filled with chatter about his friends.  Having a little brother will definitely be an adjustment, but I think Little Bug is at a place developmentally where he’ll feel more benefit and fun than jealousy and anger at having Little Bro home.

Except if Little Bro tries to take his raggies…..so Little Bro is on notice there.

But when I watch Little Bug at night, silly and happy and helpful and so aware, my heart just bursts with excited anticipation at the day when he realized that his hopefully-eventually-to-be best friend isn’t going anywhere.  It’s like this giant surprise that I can’t wait to see his reaction to.

Of course, we’re not adopting Little Bro to be a brother to Little Bug.  He has his own defined place in our family that has nothing to do with Little Bug.  We’re excited for him as a person, not for what he can bring to our older son.

But I hope that eventually Little Bro comes to see Little Bug as a really great surprise, too.

Because, mark my words, the moment these two connect will be a moment I will never, ever forget.  I hope this is the beginning of one of the most important relationships in the world for these two little boys.

For a mama who wanted sugar and spice and everything pink and nice, I can’t fathom being more excited about anything than I am about being the mama to little brothers.

Grateful

Sometimes I am so grateful I want to cry. I want to give someone a hug. I want to be able to show my appreciation in some way. Right that moment, as I feel my heart constricting in that pleasant and almost painful way.

This time, I can't. Not yet, anyway.

Little Bro's Korean social worker sent us a CD yesterday. On the disc entitled "my disc" in Hangul, was a 2-minute clip of our son running around the back offices of our Korean agency. Our social worker can be heard trying to bait big star over and over to perform some tricks or bits of cuteness he is clearly famous for. She snapped the video during the ending of what seemed to be a very casual and friendly visit and dropped in unceremoniously onto a disc that she sent to our U.S. agency.

Not something that is usually done. People just aren't lucky enough to get videos snapped by their social workers dropped in the mail to them.

Although we've already been spoiled beyond belief with three separate instances of video, this video was remarkable to us. To see him running and coping some toddler attitude. To hear the affection in her voice and watch his bond with his foster brother and foster mother in action. It's been a very bright spot in a very rough week.

And I can't even say thank you. I can't let our social worker know how much her thoughtful gesture means to us. To most, this was just a little video, but she knew it would be so much more to us.

Other families still wait, with few pictures and zero hopes of ever seeing a video of their child ahead of time. I hope more families can get gifts like this. Perhaps when we do meet her in a few months and express to her just how much her videos and pictures meant to us, more families will start getting updates like this.

But I so wish I could tell her today, while my heart is about ready to burst, how grateful I am that she has my son and both his families in her heart.

Hope is a Thing with Feathers

I'm hopeful.

I don't like it. It makes me nervous. All this stuff I refused to allow myself to even begin to hope for (like Little Bro coming home a little earlier than the worst case scenario) is sprouting in my soul. I can't help it. The evidence it there. It's starting to come together. It truly could happen.

I'm not talking about next week or even next month, but it's seeming more and more possible that I'll be throwing Little Bro a birthday party here, instead of there. With time to spare.

Just typing that makes me want to go back and delete it. I have a serious problem hoping for things.

But deleting it won't make it untrue.

Because I am hopeful.

One Lucky Mama

The last week (or couple of weeks) has been hard for me. I tried to keep it close to the vest, but really, I did a poor job of it. It has been exactly to the day 4 months since I last saw Little Bro's face. That was almost the entire time we waited for Little Bug. I was feeling unlucky and woe is me and all those other highly unproductive and unattractive feelings.

Today/last night Little Bro was scheduled to go in for a check up. We'd requested pictures and an update, more for my sanity than anything else. Although I knew it would take weeks, even months, for these things to get processed and translated (if they even agreed to our update request), I've been totally preoccupied today.

A little bit ago an e-mail popped up, and I opened it without even seeing who it was from. I made a very unladylike noise and did a full spin in my desk chair as I read that pictures.....LOTS and LOTS of pictures, not even from this check up but from earlier and from his foster mother, were on their way to me.

Unheard of quantities of pictures.

I don't deserve the kind of luck I have been getting with this adoption. I'd consider myself lucky with just a couple of sets of red throne pictures...no matter what they actually looked like. To keep getting blessed BIG TIME with connections to our son humbles me and makes me feel ridiculous for complaining at all.

Oh Little Bro, you're teaching me some huge lessons about hope and faith and expectations and silver linings. I'm already a different person because of your presence in my life.

Hope

Hope is a funny thing. As a mother, I feel like it is my job to have hope and optimism for my child and my family. However, as a person, I worry that hope will ultimately lead to having my heart crushed.

It's happened before. Infertility makes hope a pretty dirty word. I still cringe when I hear it.

Faith is different. I am getting pretty good at keeping faith for my family. I have faith that Little Bug will continue to grow and develop and be the best he can be. I have faith our family will weather whatever storms we face (not that we are currently really facing any). I have faith in Appa and I as parents. I have faith in our choice to adopt Little Bro.

But hope....hope scares me. I don't have total faith in hope.

Hope can buffer your heart from so much pain and sadness, but that buffer isn't based on anything other than abstract hope. There will come a time when the thing that is hoped for either does or doesn't materialize, and when that time comes, if it doesn't swing hope's way, the blow is devastating.

I never want to feel it again if I can help it.

Adoption is all about faith and hope. I'm really good at one and really crappy at the other. I've found myself feeling alienated by those who chose to hope for the impossible. I find myself unable to even entertain the idea of hope, even when it is dangled before me in a precarious half-official way.

I'm not better off for it, but it's the only way my mind works now.

So I struggle to pair my faith that things will work out, even if I don't like the way they go about working out, with my lack of hope in anything extraordinary. I try to remember that many of the extraordinary things I chose not to hope for actually DO happen. Hope would have been rewarded.

I want to raise my children to have faith and hope. I can only do that through example.

So today I am trying something new. A teeny bit of hope has sprouted in my heart. Hope that something extraordinary could possibly, just maybe happen. I'll only share this secret hope with Appa, and he can nurture it to.

And we'll see....