Home at last

It's hard to believe that this time last week, we were somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean flying home.  This week seems to somehow have flown and crawled by.  

We were so excited to finally be home, and it was just beautiful to see how N helped JP to open up almost immediately.  The innocent love of a child is sometimes the clearest picture of God's own heart.  N immediately took her sister's hand, and they held hands all the way to the van, and all the way home.  The shyness faded away pretty quickly once we got JP home and she checked out her room and the playroom for the first time!  They were playing dress up in the princess tent almost before I finished my bathroom break.  When S made it home a few hours later, the first thing JP did was grab his hand and take him up to show off her room.  =)  It has been amazing to watch her watch us with N, and really start to see what family affection looks like.  Just within the past few days, she has willingly hugged us (not just "the lean").  She even let me kiss her goodnight last night.  Baby steps.  And we are celebrating every one of them.

I'll be honest, dear ones: Adoption is hard, pre- and post-airport.  I fought for this child, cried for this child, loved her with all my heart for over two years.  You can imagine how terrifying it was to finally be with her and realize those good feelings were gone.  I wasn't attached to her.  I chose love, but I didn't "feel" love toward her.  I felt fear, anxiety, deep sadness.  What if she always resented us for taking her from the only caregivers she could remember?  What if she destroyed our family life?  What if all of this was too much for N at such a young age and had a detrimental effect on her?  There was no end to the "what ifs" swirling around in my head.  I was so thankful for the adoptive mamas who reached out to me, even while we were in India to tell me that all of those feelings were completely normal.  And to promise me that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  If I ever have the chance to do that for another mama, I will count it as worth it, because I can't tell you how those women quieted my spirit with their honest, loving hearts.

And that's why I will never pretend that redemption is easy, but I will also promise to look for the little victories along the way.  There is much work still to be done, but there is much to celebrate as well, and I find myself stopping to give thanks in my heart over so many tiny things each day.  I have been praying since day one with JP for the Lord to give me a deep love for her, to cause me to see her as He does now that we have jumped straight into the trenches with her.  And do you know what?  He didn't wait long to start filling me with that love.  It's there, renewed every morning, renewed through every testing time and battle of wills, through little moments when she lets me comfort and be close to her as a mother should.  And for that, I am thankful.    

To India, and back again, part 6- 2/7/14

Our coordinator was able to get the negative sputum test reports on Sunday evening, and first thing Monday morning, we headed to the original clinic so the doctor could sign off on JP's medical packet. She got a little teary eyed while we were there. I tried to explain that she didn't have to do anymore tests, bless her heart. I'm glad FIVE negative tests were finally enough to prove to the CDC that she doesn't have TB. Poor baby. 

As soon as we got the medical packet, we rushed to the embassy. We had already done the interview and paid our fee when we were there on Thursday. There was hardly anyone there then. When we walked in Monday it was packed out. The gentleman at the desk knew our coordinator, so he took our paperwork right back. For about an hour or an hour and a half we waited, and wondered, and prayed...and prayed some more. We didn't know if they would issue the visa then or tell us to come back in the afternoon, or, worse, the next day. Finally, they called us up and handed us JP's passport, complete with visa, as well as our official Hague adoption certificate. Thank you, Lord!  

We had to check out of the hotel at 2:00, but our flight out wasn't until 11:35pm. Our coordinator surprised us by giving us a hotel room at his hotel (on his tab) so we could relax before our flight. Of course, there's not much relaxing going on with a hyper five year old in the room, but I was so thankful we didn't just have to walk around the mall for six hours. 

Our driver dropped us at the airport, and we were on our way. I swear we had to go through half a dozen security checks, and everyone was very curious about JP being with us. We got interrogated by airport staff about every five minutes. Thankfully, there was no trouble, and we got on our flight without any problems. JP slept the first seven hours...and climbed the walls for the next eight and a half. Kudos to those of you who take long flights with young children. I hope I never have to do it again, because not only was I unable to sleep, but I was constantly having to keep her from breaking things or disturbing others around us. By the time we touched down in Newark, I was pretty frazzled, but oh, so happy to be back in the good old US of A. We went through immigration without a problem, got the official stamp declaring JP a US citizen, and got our bag to go through and recheck it on home. That's when we found out that our flight home had been canceled, along with hundreds of other flights, thanks to the snow storm that came through yesterday. All of Newark was about to hear this mama ugly cry. 

Initially, they said they couldn't get us home until tomorrow, but after hearing our story, the rep was able to finagle some things around and get JP and I on the next flight out. Husband was on standby, but he didn't make the first flight. Thankfully, he got the last seat on the next flight and was home within about three hours of us. It made me sad not to walk into the airport together for our little welcoming committee, but at that point, we were just so glad to be home, we didn't think too much about it. One battle down. Another beginning.

To India, and back again, part 5- 2/2/14

Friday began with the first sputum test. We had to wake P up early without giving her a bite of food or even a drink of water, get her dressed, and drive 45 minutes to the testing facility. We waited for another 30 minutes for the doctors to arrive. Then we had to walk up six flights of stairs to the roof, and try to explain to this poor, shivering child that she had to hock up a bunch of loogies for us. That was fun. For a while, she looked like she was going to cry. I think she was very confused, even with a staff member explaining in Hindi. But she eventually started hacking and we showered her with praise. I can honestly say that's the first time I've praised a child for drooling. After we finished, we had to get some food in her belly and make sure she got her meds on time. We were back at the hotel by 9:30am, just staring at each other, trying to figure out what in the world we were going to do for the next 10 hours to keep her busy. 

We did the usual rotation of coloring, balloons, and TV, with a couple of attempts in there to walk around the attached mall just to get out of the room. If you know me at all, you'll know how much I love malls (if you don't know me well, that last bit was in sarcastic font). The best part was the three story toy store on one side. We let P pick a toy, and she chose a stuffed lion.  We got N a tiger, because when I asked her what she wanted us to bring her from India, she said a tiger. "A real one??" I asked. "No, Mama!  Just a pretend one, you silly goose."  One pretend tiger. Check. 

That day was when we had our first real dose of defiance. Some of it, I'm sure, was simply her trying to exert control when she feels completely out of control. And I think part of it was just being bored. She's used to a busy schedule including six hours of school a day, so balloons and coloring are probably not going to occupy her mind after that. It was a long day. A very long day. And the next morning when we went for P's second sputum test, I begged our coordinator to take us out later that day. He was happy to get us out of the hotel room, so we went to a local market with items from all the different states in India. I picked up a few more gifts and souvenirs, and then P and I got matching henna on our hands. Karyn Purvis would be so proud. Well, at least about that part.  Probably not so much about the four plus hours of TV per day. But hey, we're not trying to win the Stellar Parents of the Week award here. Right now, we are embracing survival mode, and just rolling with whatever keeps everyone's sanity as close to in tact as possible. We finished up our outing with some authentic Indian food at at local restaurant, which was super tasty. P horked it down like it was her job. Thus far, she's had a healthy appetite, but has not shown any tendencies toward gorging or hoarding food. That's good news. It means she probably did not go hungry at the orphanage. 

This morning (Sunday) we went back for P's final sputum test. Each morning we've gone after the first, they've confirmed a negative result for the previous day's test. She finished her final loogie hocking, and we came back to the hotel for a little bit before going out with our coordinator again. He took us to a historical garden, park sort of thing. There were several dilapidated moseleums with the most beautiful architecture. The hand carved stone and paintings were amazing. It was also nice to walk around in some fresh air, away from the constant yelling, honking, and smoggy air of the city. It was like a little sanctuary in the center of the chaos. Because chaos is really the only way to describe the roads in Delhi (or Mumbai). There are no acknowledged traffic lanes, lights, or signals. They do exist, but no one pays any attention to them. The streets are filled with cars, tuk tuks, rickshaws, motorcycles (with little children riding along- very few helmets), bicycles, pedestrians, and children begging for food at every forced red light. There are no car seats, seat belts, or rules of any kind, really. As our coordinator says, traffic flows like water in India. Well, if water constantly lays on its horn and just goes wherever the heck it feels like whenever it feels like it, then that is true. It is definitely sensory overload up in there, y'all. Still, it's time not spent in our room, so no worries. We ate out again and then came back to await the call from the clinic. Our coordinator decided to go on out to the testing center to "Sit on their heads" to encourage them to work faster. I guess it worked, because he called at about 5:30 to let us know that he had the test results in his hand!  Tomorrow morning, we will go to the clinic to have the first doctor sign off on the medical packet, and then go to the embassy to beg them to give us P's visa. They said on Thursday that they would give us priority (after I stood there sobbing because they wouldn't let me go home). Hopefully they will be true to their word and issue the visa ASAP. Our flight leaves out tomorrow night at 11:35pm. We can't really afford to change it again, so they're just going to have to get it done. I've got P bathed and our bags packed up. I will be tracking our plane as soon as I wake up in the morning. I cannot wait to be home!!!

To India, and back again, part 4- 2/1/14

Day three with JP brought more baby steps forward. We went out to do some shopping. We have to watch her closely, because she does not want us to hold her hands, but she will wander off if we don't keep a close eye on her. Shopping was fun, and then we headed over to the clinic again. The doctor called to let us know that the embassy would also require an X-Ray TB test. That seemed pointless, as the X-ray is only supposed to be necessary if the skin test was reactive. Still we were thankful that the doctor called and told us (which is unheard of) so we wouldn't waste time. After the X-ray, we headed back to the hotel to relax. I got out the bubbles, and JP lit up. She was laughing and chattering away all afternoon. We also started to see her ornery streak come out. That is also normal for a child from a hard place to test you with bad behavior just to see if you'll stick around. It was mostly just mischief, getting into things she knew she shouldn't, but we did have some full out defiance as well. We were so happy with the thought that we would get her test results the next day, and hopefully her visa. We were already looking at switching our flights to leave out the next night, Thursday. 

The next morning, we went back to the clinic to get JP's medical report to take to the embassy. Her skin test was fine, as was her X-ray. That's when the doctor told us that he had discovered a CDC requirement that all people with her specific medical need were also required to take the TB sputum test, no matter what. That test takes three days to collect. We were devastated. I don't think I can properly communicate how desperately S and I wanted to be home. It had been a hard week. We were exhausted. And even though the hotel staff here is AMAZING, we were ready to be in our home with both girls in one place. Our hearts have been split between two continents for far too long. 

We begged the embassy for an exemption, but they did not have the authority to give it. Only the CDC could, and we may as well have asked them to let us go to the moon. The wheels turn oh so slowly with the government, and taking the tests would be quicker than waiting for a response from the CDC. So S and I had another good cry that night, emailed my parents to tell them dad would need to take off more work, emailed our travel agent to try and change our tickets to Monday night in the hope we would have JP's visa by then. And $2,000 later we had changed our tickets and extended our stay with the hotel. 

We put our heads down to push on through, and tried to focus on enjoying our time with JP, even if we were running very short on entertainment and emotional energy. JP is two different people here: quiet and unresponsive around others, boisterous and energetic around us. I can't wait to be home where we can let her run and play in the yard and expend some of that energy! Still, as difficult as it is to be couped up in a hotel room for 10 hours a day with an energetic five year old, we are thankful that she has come out of her shell with us. She is not physically affectionate yet in the form of hugs or holding hands, but it is beautiful to see her make an effort to connect with us in other ways. She will write words, blow up a balloon, or put her jewelry on her animals and then call "Amma!" to show me what she's done. She will offer us the after dinner mints that come with room service, or help us clean things up without being asked. Even seeing her ask me for help in the bathroom or getting dressed is a very positive sign.  She may not be ready for parent-child affection, but she has begun to rely on us and trust us to provide for her very quickly. Those are excellent steps toward attachment. I look down the road even a few months and years, and dream of the child she will become. I pray the Lord gives her joy she's never even imagined, and that she finds her freedom, her identity in HIM, her heavenly Father.  

To India, and back again, part 3- 2/1/14

We were not sure what to expect when JP woke up on Tuesday morning, but after some initial apprehension, she accepted a little breakfast and got up without a fuss. We had to get her ready to take to the clinic for her TB test that morning, and she was mostly cooperative. 

She waits very patiently both in the car and waiting rooms, and we have spent HOURS in both of those places this week. She took the TB skin test without even flinching.   We came back to the room after our appointment, and little by little made some baby steps forward. We got out the balloons, and discovered that they do, in fact, span all cultures. We got our first smiles through playing with them. What an encouragement. Even though we had the head knowledge that attachment takes a lot of time and effort, it's still hard not to feel like your child will hate you forever and destroy your family life as you know it. Perhaps that sounds melodramatic, but I promise you that the emotions and hormones flooding through an adoptive mama's system are very much the same as a mom who has just given birth. I have seen many similarities in my feelings through this week to the feelings I had in the weeks after N's rather traumatic entry into the world. Perhaps it is not uncommon for new mothers to have a sort of "buyer's remorse", no matter how their children enter their families, and no matter how long and hard they prayed for those children.  Or maybe that's just wishful thinking, and I'm a Lone Ranger in those struggles. Either way, it's the truth, and I won't sugar coat this journey and make it anything less than it is. Joy and suffering so often go hand in hand.  I won't minimize the suffering, because it would also nullify the joy. Still, I wouldn't mind seeing some blessings that aren't in disguise at some point!

To India, and back again, part 2- 2/1/14

Is it possible that I have lived a lifetime in the past week?  Because it feels like I have. There may be a time in the future when I come back and write about this in more detail, but right now, I will simply have to type what pours out of my heart. 

We made it to India late Sunday night, and after shuffling through the inevitable crowd of people being herded through immigration, we laid eyes on the outside world of India for the very first time. The word chaos does not even begin to describe that scene. We wandered out into a square surrounded by hundreds of  people, none of which were from the hotel we were trying to get to. After finally asking another hotel driver for help calling ours, and not being entirely sure that message went through, we finally hired an airport taxi and prayed for our lives as we zipped off toward what we hoped was the right hotel. We finally arrived, got cleaned up, and passed out in the bed, hours away from meeting our daughter for the first time. 

Our in country coordinator met us in the lobby the next morning and we left for JP's orphanage. After having a chance to talk with the director about her past, her routine, likes and dislikes, etc., they finally brought JP into the room. I did not expect her to run into our arms, but nothing can really prepare you for that moment. She seemed to be in shock, basically unresponsive even to familiar people. She did not want us to touch her at all. She did not smile. But when it came time to get up and go, she suddenly went from "freeze" to "fight" mode. She fought getting in the car, and in the end, the director had to put her in the car, and I had to physically restrain her so S could get in and shut the door. JP began screaming and pounding my leg with her fists trying to get away from me and climb into the front seat with our coordinator. We allowed that, just to calm her down. She settled down and went back to being sullen and unresponsive. 

It was a long day for everyone. We had to go to the airport to fly to Delhi. She did allow us to hold her hand in the airport, and she did very well on the plane. But when we got to the hotel and our coordinator pulled away in the car, the tears began again. She was wailing for either a caretaker or a friend, I'm not sure, and she was trying to beat down the door to get out of the room. It was utterly heartbreaking. When you have a newborn who cries, you can take your child in your arms and comfort her. When you have a new child from a traumatic background who cries, you can't do that. All you can do is sit there and let your heart break with hers. JP was inconsolable for about 20 minutes, and then finally calmed down, let me put her jammies on (over her clothes), and passed out in the bed. She was filthy, and had some visible nits in her hair, but bathing was just not an option. 

After JP fell asleep, S and I retreated to the bathroom to have a good cry as well. We were both horribly homesick for N, and we were devastated that we couldn't do anything to comfort our daughter here. Again, we expected JP to grieve. And in a way, we were thankful for it, because it shows she was attached to her caregivers. And if she's capable of attaching to them, then that attachment will eventually be transferred to us. Still, no amount of knowledge can prepare you for the emotions of that moment: helplessness, fear, heartache, depression. I say all of these things not to discourage anyone from adoption, but rather to be completely honest about the reality of what redemption and restoration look like. Jesus endured the agony of the cross because of the joy set before him, and so He and we endure the agony of redemption because HE is the joy set before us, and we are willing to do whatever it takes to wholeheartedly run into his arms. What a vivid reminder this is of His work to win our hearts and draw us up out of the pit.

To India, and back again, part 1- 1/25/14

So here we are, stranded in Newark. I should back up. 

We planned our trip, booked flights and hotels, tied up loose ends at the house, and had a strange sense of calm mixed in with excitement as we prepared to leave on Friday afternoon. We were finally on our way to bring JP home. N did great, and this mama's heart was thankful for that. We said our airport goodbyes. She went back home with my parents, and we went through security eagerly awaiting our first leg of the journey being behind us.  Well, I was probably more eager than my sweet husband, who loathes flying. All was well until about a half hour before we were supposed to board, when we realized something was amiss. Our plane out of Chicago was delayed because of weather, and the lav had frozen, so they were awaiting an entirely new plane altogether. 

Long story short (I feel like I'm going to have to say that a lot), our flight was delayed four hours, and yes, we missed our connecting flight to India. And every other connecting flight out of the US. After what seemed like forever at the customer service desk, we finally accepted the fact that the farthest we were getting was Newark last night. So we made it, with gusty winds and a questionable landing. But we made it. They gave us a voucher for a hotel, and somewhere around 11:30pm, we made a bolt from the airport to the hotel shuttle in single digit temperatures. No, we did not bring winter clothes. It's 80 degrees in India. Thankfully, though, international travel has taught me to carry everything I need on my back at all times, and my survivalist packing skills came in very handy. I dug as many layers as I could find out of my bag, and as we wound our way through the icy industrial yards of NJ, I silently thanked the Lord that we had all of our personal belongings. Our single checked bag only holds things we are hoping to have at the Delhi hotel, nothing terribly crucial. 

We'll hang out here until about lunch time when we have to check out. Then it's back to the airport to pray, pray, pray that our flight out to Mumbai is on time and good to go tonight. We should leave at 8:10, which will put us touching down in India about 12 hours before we are supposed to go pick JP up on Monday morning. Our flight to Delhi leaves Monday evening to be there for her medical appointment on Tuesday morning. Needless to say, we do NOT want this to get pushed back, as it will push everything else back and require us to change our tickets home to the following Monday. We are supposed to be home Monday the 3rd around noon, and although I normally enjoy travel, all I want right now is to get JP, get home, and have all of my children in one place with me. It has been a long time coming. 

Yes, I know I need to enjoy this. And while I can't say that I'm necessarily at that point, my faith and trust in the One who has orchestrated this great adventure from the beginning, from BEFORE the beginning, is without question. I have seen him break down wall after wall after wall, and I am confident of this: He will not stop now. As always, your prayers are felt and appreciated. Pray us on to India tonight, friends!  We are almost to our sweet girl!

Playing catch up, big time 1/25/14

I believe the last time I blogged, we had just gotten our temporary CO on the house. Oh my goodness, it has been a whirlwind since then. I wish I had time to go into all the details, but sitting here, stranded in Newark (yes, you read that right... I'm getting to that part), I'm going to have to hit the high points. 

We started moving in the night before Christmas Eve. It was a strange Christmas, and one of the most difficult since we lost my father-in-law five years ago, but we were thankful to be spending it in our home, even if we were up to our ears in boxes and work to do. After that, very little work was done on the house. We went from bare drywall to temporary CO in three weeks. Wow! And then, we were in, and the urgency factor dissipated for everyone except us. But I knew this was not the time to lose steam. And I was right. 

On January 7th, we got word that we finally received written orders for JP, and the RIPA was applying for her passport!  Thankfully, the county was merciful once again, and gave us permanent CO on January 9th without even coming inside to inspect. The inside stuff was mostly just punch list items, important, but not crucial to livability. The outside... Oh my. We literally waited for weeks for retaining wall excavation, concrete, block, concrete in the block, railing around the block, and final seed and straw. The grade on the back side of the house still isn't raised up to the level it's supposed to be. We definitely had weather issues. We also had nobody-shows-up-when-they-should issues over and over again. But, long story short, we got CO. And after a longer story, finally got the bank underwriters to let us close on our loan without losing our rate lock. What a mess. 

And then, January 17, I got the email that I'm still in shock over: JP's passport was issued, and we could start looking at flights to India. After waiting through a 27 month adoption process, it is still surreal to believe that we are finally a family of four, and so very close to being all together. It's hard to  believe that was only eight days ago. 

And yes, we're still stranded in Newark, but that story will be continued in my next post.