One year ago today we accepted Little Moon's referral.
I didn't rmember that until just a little bit ago because I have spent the whole day in a haze of court date euphoria.
Appa said point blank it would be today. And he was right.
The odds were in our favor today.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
I'll Take Those Odds
One month.
Considering all the many, many, many months I have spent waiting for my children, 1 month shouldn't even register on my list of most trying. And yet, this month, the last 30 days, will go down as some of the most memorable in all three adoptions.
In the past we waited for a travel call. A given outcome that was the end result of a lot of paper pushing. And while the papers might be pushed a slower than I wanted, the outcome was predictably a travel call, which was then predictably followed by flying to Korea and bringing my child home as soon as I could.
Not so, this time. This time there is little predictability in the process. The court date we are waiting on is uncharted territory in waters we had expected to be old pros in. Families with our same time frames are in Korea now or packing their bags while we are still RSVPing "Maybe, but I hope not" to anything in the next month.
But the most perplexing part of the last 30 days has been the fact that it has little to do with paper pushing. This time, a judge is reviewing our home study...unquestionably the most invasive, raw documents ever written about us and something I wouldn't even be comfortable sharing with our family. But some judge in Korea is reading it over, mulling over our merits as potential parents. And although I am fairly confident what we present won't keep us from the honor of raising Little Moon, the predictability is compounded by the fact that the judge can issue our court date whenever and for whenever he or she wants to.
That means that if the judge has a vacation planned or is feeling under the weather or had a bad breakfast and is in a bad mood, those things could swing our notifications and dates by weeks or months at a time.
It's maddening to have something so important and time sensitive be completely at the whim of someone else with absolutely nothing we can do about it.
So every morning until lunch time I hold my breath and stalk my phone and check my e-mail every 2 minutes (I am not exaggerating) even though I know the phone call will come first (I think). I'm crippled from giving full attention to anyone or anything that isn't on Facebook's adoption groups. And for 30 days, nothing has come except for one emotionally confusing day when half our group did get their court dates.
But there is an unexpected and welcome silver lining. Appa and I are both invested and waiting together this time. Appa's logic and trust helped him breeze through the other two waits, but this new unpredictable timeline seems to have thrown him for a loop. So instead of only leaning on friends for sympathy and support, I have my best friend to live it with. He even suggested we have a "pity party" last Friday night. Pity is SO my emotion, so to have him suggest it was really pretty funny and ending up making our pity party a night of silly board games and drinks. We've been sad together and happy together and I'll always think fondly of this period in that respect.
And each morning when Appa asks me with hope in his voice "Think today is our day?" he follows it up with "The odds are better today then they were yesterday." And we get a little giddy and the anticipation of what they day could bring. It's a fun feeling.
So these 30 days have been memorable for me, but not in a bad way. Sure, it hasn't been fun and I want our court date TOMORROW PLEASE but I'll remember this time as a really uncomfortable and hard time frame that we managed to weather with positive attitudes fitting for our grinning guy.
We will not let this take the joy from our journey to our son.
Considering all the many, many, many months I have spent waiting for my children, 1 month shouldn't even register on my list of most trying. And yet, this month, the last 30 days, will go down as some of the most memorable in all three adoptions.
In the past we waited for a travel call. A given outcome that was the end result of a lot of paper pushing. And while the papers might be pushed a slower than I wanted, the outcome was predictably a travel call, which was then predictably followed by flying to Korea and bringing my child home as soon as I could.
Not so, this time. This time there is little predictability in the process. The court date we are waiting on is uncharted territory in waters we had expected to be old pros in. Families with our same time frames are in Korea now or packing their bags while we are still RSVPing "Maybe, but I hope not" to anything in the next month.
But the most perplexing part of the last 30 days has been the fact that it has little to do with paper pushing. This time, a judge is reviewing our home study...unquestionably the most invasive, raw documents ever written about us and something I wouldn't even be comfortable sharing with our family. But some judge in Korea is reading it over, mulling over our merits as potential parents. And although I am fairly confident what we present won't keep us from the honor of raising Little Moon, the predictability is compounded by the fact that the judge can issue our court date whenever and for whenever he or she wants to.
That means that if the judge has a vacation planned or is feeling under the weather or had a bad breakfast and is in a bad mood, those things could swing our notifications and dates by weeks or months at a time.
It's maddening to have something so important and time sensitive be completely at the whim of someone else with absolutely nothing we can do about it.
So every morning until lunch time I hold my breath and stalk my phone and check my e-mail every 2 minutes (I am not exaggerating) even though I know the phone call will come first (I think). I'm crippled from giving full attention to anyone or anything that isn't on Facebook's adoption groups. And for 30 days, nothing has come except for one emotionally confusing day when half our group did get their court dates.
But there is an unexpected and welcome silver lining. Appa and I are both invested and waiting together this time. Appa's logic and trust helped him breeze through the other two waits, but this new unpredictable timeline seems to have thrown him for a loop. So instead of only leaning on friends for sympathy and support, I have my best friend to live it with. He even suggested we have a "pity party" last Friday night. Pity is SO my emotion, so to have him suggest it was really pretty funny and ending up making our pity party a night of silly board games and drinks. We've been sad together and happy together and I'll always think fondly of this period in that respect.
And each morning when Appa asks me with hope in his voice "Think today is our day?" he follows it up with "The odds are better today then they were yesterday." And we get a little giddy and the anticipation of what they day could bring. It's a fun feeling.
So these 30 days have been memorable for me, but not in a bad way. Sure, it hasn't been fun and I want our court date TOMORROW PLEASE but I'll remember this time as a really uncomfortable and hard time frame that we managed to weather with positive attitudes fitting for our grinning guy.
We will not let this take the joy from our journey to our son.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
5
Five. It seems like such a big number, a milestone. Yet 5 years has flown by in what seems like the blink of an eye.
Five years ago I became a mother.
Five years ago I woke up and ate breakfast slowly. I did my hair and makeup in peace. I laid down for a nap. I rushed up and down escalators and from store to store searching for a little orange doll. Five years ago I swore out loud whenever I wanted to. Five years ago my responsibilities stopped at me.
Five years ago someone handed me a baby. It's all a haze of tears and watery smiles and then lots of real tears. I remember everything about the back alleyway where a small child's life was literally placed in my arms for good. I remember it hitting me sometime that evening that we were now parents. Real parents. The reality of the responsibility of parenthood is overwhelming to consider.
I remember singing "Row Row Row Your Boat" for 30 minutes straight while wearing a rut into the carpet in our hotel. I remember falling so deeply in love that night with the father my husband instantly became. I remember sleeping with my hand through the crib bars...just to be able to touch my child all night long.
There are many moments in my life that have defined me, but none so drastically, completely, and instantaneously as that day 5 years ago when I became someone's mom.
And not just a mom, but Little Bug's mom. A title I am proud and honored and so, so, so grateful to wear.
Five years ago I became a mother.
Five years ago I woke up and ate breakfast slowly. I did my hair and makeup in peace. I laid down for a nap. I rushed up and down escalators and from store to store searching for a little orange doll. Five years ago I swore out loud whenever I wanted to. Five years ago my responsibilities stopped at me.
Five years ago someone handed me a baby. It's all a haze of tears and watery smiles and then lots of real tears. I remember everything about the back alleyway where a small child's life was literally placed in my arms for good. I remember it hitting me sometime that evening that we were now parents. Real parents. The reality of the responsibility of parenthood is overwhelming to consider.
I remember singing "Row Row Row Your Boat" for 30 minutes straight while wearing a rut into the carpet in our hotel. I remember falling so deeply in love that night with the father my husband instantly became. I remember sleeping with my hand through the crib bars...just to be able to touch my child all night long.
There are many moments in my life that have defined me, but none so drastically, completely, and instantaneously as that day 5 years ago when I became someone's mom.
And not just a mom, but Little Bug's mom. A title I am proud and honored and so, so, so grateful to wear.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Birthday Boy
Dear Little Moon,
Happy 3rd birthday, my sweet son. I wish we could have been with you on your special day, but I know you spent it with the people who love you and who you consider your family. All I wish for you is a day where you feel extra special and can enjoy all the things and people you love most.
Little Moon, I've been overly lucky to only miss one of your brothers' birthdays, but with you, I've missed three. Your first two were before I really knew you, so this one if the first where I have actively missed you.
We had honestly always expected you to be 3 when we could bring you home, but I have been surprised at how sad missing every day of your second year has made me. Turning 3 seems SO big boy. I can't wait to get to know this 3-year-old you and celebrate next year with you.
I've never been outwardly emotional about this kind of thing. I don't plan and throw parties or spent the day weeping. But yesterday, as the clock ticked down the minutes until it was Midnight in Seoul, I wept alone in our hotel room. I tried to channel all my love and energy into celebrating you. I sat alone in our hotel room and kept vigil over the clock as your last moments of 2 wound down. I wept a bit as I watched the clock turnover to Sept 2 in Seoul, and I wished you a happy birthday and rejoiced for you being in the world.
We celebrated a day early here, something we don't normally do. But I really wanted to be "with" you on your birthday and celebrating with you in real time, so we celebrated while you would have been celebrating in Korea. It was just the smallest of things we could do to feel closer to you.
The time is coming soon, sweet Little Moon, when we will be able to celebrate all the many coming birthdays with you. I love you, and I can't wait.
Happy 3rd birthday, my sweet son. I wish we could have been with you on your special day, but I know you spent it with the people who love you and who you consider your family. All I wish for you is a day where you feel extra special and can enjoy all the things and people you love most.
Little Moon, I've been overly lucky to only miss one of your brothers' birthdays, but with you, I've missed three. Your first two were before I really knew you, so this one if the first where I have actively missed you.
We had honestly always expected you to be 3 when we could bring you home, but I have been surprised at how sad missing every day of your second year has made me. Turning 3 seems SO big boy. I can't wait to get to know this 3-year-old you and celebrate next year with you.
I've never been outwardly emotional about this kind of thing. I don't plan and throw parties or spent the day weeping. But yesterday, as the clock ticked down the minutes until it was Midnight in Seoul, I wept alone in our hotel room. I tried to channel all my love and energy into celebrating you. I sat alone in our hotel room and kept vigil over the clock as your last moments of 2 wound down. I wept a bit as I watched the clock turnover to Sept 2 in Seoul, and I wished you a happy birthday and rejoiced for you being in the world.
We celebrated a day early here, something we don't normally do. But I really wanted to be "with" you on your birthday and celebrating with you in real time, so we celebrated while you would have been celebrating in Korea. It was just the smallest of things we could do to feel closer to you.
The time is coming soon, sweet Little Moon, when we will be able to celebrate all the many coming birthdays with you. I love you, and I can't wait.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Willa
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Two weeks ago today I went to bed consumed by thoughts of a little white and black ball of silky fluff sleeping on a cage floor that I had no intention of meeting earlier in the day. As insane as the idea was, I knew she was ours and I hated that she was spending another night alone. Just had to convince Appa that getting a puppy at this stage in our lives was a great idea.
The next day the decision was made that she'd be coming home with us mid-week. We needed to prepare, since, you know, we had zero intentions of getting a dog just 12 hours earlier and I've never had a dog before, much less a puppy. And Appa was out of town for two more days.
Two hours later she was in a new crate in the back of our van rocking out to Robot Tim and Human Tim with the boys because I simply couldn't leave her there. So clearly nothing about this was going according the plan.
It could have gone terribly wrong.
But Willa (a feminine nod to William Shakespeare) is puppy perfection. Sure, she nips. Sure, she poops and pees on the floor. Sure, she puts anything she can find in her mouth. If I wasn't okay with that stuff, I would be childless right now. Frankly, I wish there was a child whisperer I could find as easily as I found a puppy trainer.
She's also friendly, quiet, cuddly, patient, loyal, and so very very very soft. I knew I would enjoy having a dog, but I had no idea how quickly and deeply I would grow to enjoy having her in our home. I didn't realize how lonely the nights are when Appa travels until I had a cuddly warm body curdled up next to me on the couch to fill the silence with contentment. I had no idea how much I would enjoy a little one who would be grateful for little things like providing food and shelter and love without flying into a rage because someone else got the orange plate or spitting their milk out in a "Milk RAIN STORM." She even laid on my lap and enjoyed a bad chick flick tonight with me. You couldn't pay another member of my household to do that.
But most of all, Willa has just given me one more blessing in my life to love. It takes a lot of work to help her grow and learn, but I'm learning that Appa and I are actually game for a little hard work because we know the rewards. Stepping out to seize the moment for her felt very exciting and brave, and I am proud we did it for our family. I feel elated when she listens and behaves and simply proud to be her "family mommy". (The bonus of having adoption already a big part of our family conversation is that the boys are all about her having a doggy birth mommy and a human family mommy. Nothing confusing here.)
She's cute as can be, for sure, but beneath the fluff is a dog that perfectly fits our family. The last two weeks have been simply delightful with her in our home.
We also got our EP for Little Moon. I think that was the universe's way of getting the hint. Sure hope Little Moon likes "mung mungs."
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Hiding
This blog has been a place for me to write about motherhood and all the many things that come with it. Since the very first post, for the past 5 years, I have written about adoption, special needs, depression, anxiety, friendship, individuality, and expectations. My audience for this blournal has always been my children, but obviously the more immediate audience has been the people who read it and sometimes comment. I've received so many wonderful comments of support over the years, as I so appreciate them. There is also something supremely cathartic about sharing some heavy stuff and "getting it off my chest." I truly believe that sharing the hard things has made me a better and stronger woman and mother.
Ironically, it is those very hard things that I reached deep to share that need to be buried down deep.
As we reach the final stretch to Little Moon, the path is not free from obstacles. Some are out of our control, but some are ones we can plan for and work around. What I consider brave others will consider weak.
And as Little Moon's mother, I have to make hard choices because I am not weak. This blournal is one of those choices. I will continue to post here, but it won't be public again until after he is sleeping in that room upstairs. It's a very simple decision, but still one that makes me sad.
So if you are reading this in real time, hello.
Ironically, it is those very hard things that I reached deep to share that need to be buried down deep.
As we reach the final stretch to Little Moon, the path is not free from obstacles. Some are out of our control, but some are ones we can plan for and work around. What I consider brave others will consider weak.
And as Little Moon's mother, I have to make hard choices because I am not weak. This blournal is one of those choices. I will continue to post here, but it won't be public again until after he is sleeping in that room upstairs. It's a very simple decision, but still one that makes me sad.
So if you are reading this in real time, hello.
Monday, August 19, 2013
To My Little Bug as He Ventures in the Kindergarten
Dear Little Bug,
Tonight after I put you to bed, I came down and stared at a picture of you from when you were 11 months old for a solid 5 minutes. It seem surreal to me that you were once such a tiny little thing with a smile wider than your face and this moment seemed so far away I couldn't even fathom it. And although you've been going to full day school and riding a bus for 3 years already, tomorrow seems different somehow. You're going to a new school and a new class and you have to make all new friends. This is the beginning of an educational life that I hope will carry you through the next 16+ years and allow you to find and shape your future. Yet, unlike many of the other kids who will be starting Kindergarten tomorrow, you can't yet write you own name or identify the alphabet or all your colors or stand on one foot.
But damn it if you probably aren't the hardest and most dedicated worker in the whole bunch.
So, my darling Little Bug, this is my wish for you tomorrow:
Smile that smile. Get up when you fall down. Clap your hands and stomp your feet. Ask everyone you meet if they want gum. Enjoy the yellow bus. Try just one more time. Take three deep breaths. Brave the slide. Show off your t-shirts. Sit still when you can. Soak in the praise. Learn from your mistakes. Always remember that "you.are.the.best."
Little Bug, you have been given many challenges to overcome, but I truly believe you were blessed with one of the brightest, most pure and dedicated souls I have ever encountered. You will go far in life, and no matter where that is, as long as it makes you happy, I'm happy. I suppose that is getting ahead of myself, but I took one more look at your 11-month-old self and recalled how I couldn't fathom tomorrow, and I know it's going to go so quick. And you are going to amaze us all.
Have fun, Little Bug. I love you.
Tonight after I put you to bed, I came down and stared at a picture of you from when you were 11 months old for a solid 5 minutes. It seem surreal to me that you were once such a tiny little thing with a smile wider than your face and this moment seemed so far away I couldn't even fathom it. And although you've been going to full day school and riding a bus for 3 years already, tomorrow seems different somehow. You're going to a new school and a new class and you have to make all new friends. This is the beginning of an educational life that I hope will carry you through the next 16+ years and allow you to find and shape your future. Yet, unlike many of the other kids who will be starting Kindergarten tomorrow, you can't yet write you own name or identify the alphabet or all your colors or stand on one foot.
But damn it if you probably aren't the hardest and most dedicated worker in the whole bunch.
So, my darling Little Bug, this is my wish for you tomorrow:
Smile that smile. Get up when you fall down. Clap your hands and stomp your feet. Ask everyone you meet if they want gum. Enjoy the yellow bus. Try just one more time. Take three deep breaths. Brave the slide. Show off your t-shirts. Sit still when you can. Soak in the praise. Learn from your mistakes. Always remember that "you.are.the.best."
Little Bug, you have been given many challenges to overcome, but I truly believe you were blessed with one of the brightest, most pure and dedicated souls I have ever encountered. You will go far in life, and no matter where that is, as long as it makes you happy, I'm happy. I suppose that is getting ahead of myself, but I took one more look at your 11-month-old self and recalled how I couldn't fathom tomorrow, and I know it's going to go so quick. And you are going to amaze us all.
Have fun, Little Bug. I love you.
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