It's been a year. It's been a year. It's been a year. I feel the need to say it repeatedly for the reality to sink in. It's been a good year. It's been a hard year. It's been a year of struggles and miracles.
Then: 44 lbs and 43.5" tall. Now: 51 lbs and 47.5" tall. (growing 4 inches in a year - that's a lot, right?)
Then: Zero English (unless you count his completely odd and useless knowledge of the words elephant and motocycle). Now: He's not only completely fluent in English, but he's starting to master reading and writing. He still has an accent, and he may always have it. (those who have adopted older children, what is your experience with retaining/losing their accent?)
Then: Eyes big as saucers as he rode, with fear and excitement, an elevator for the first time and his look of wonder and joy as the door opened to a completely different scene.
Now: Say hello to a child that can operate every electronic device in our house as good or better than I can. This weekend he even figured out how to text Tesi from his ipod, something I didn't even know was possible.
Then: Only a faint memory of what a family looks like, what unconditional, never-quitting, always-there love is.
Now: He is the poster child for what loving your family looks like. If I could somehow bottle his passion, generosity and compassion I would figure out a way to contaminate the world's water supply with it, and planet earth would be a very different place.
Then: I won't say that fear and doubt ruled my heart, but it definitely lurked. Was I screwing up my family forever? Was I biting off more than I can chew (5 kids in 6 years?)? Was I even capable of loving and parenting in the way that would now be required?
Now: How in the world do I deserve to be so blessed? The thought that I could have let fear prevent me from seeing this miracle unfold is the scariest of thoughts now.
Then: Will this child ever give/receive affection? Hugging him is like wrapping my arms around a 2 x 4.
Now: If a contest ever existed for the tightest, never-letting-go, giving it all you've got hug, he would bring home the gold.
I look back eleven months ago and I vaguely remember holding a writhing, confused, scared, screaming little boy as he fought me with every ounce of his 44 lbs. I barely recognize that boy, but remembering his great fear and loss feeds my compassion for him to this day.
There were certainly times I screwed up and didn't respond the way I should, and I remember those the most clearly. I remember with stunning clarity holding MB on my lap as he screamed and kicked and tried to bite me, looking upstairs and spotting the Eldest just watching, crying silently, out of her mind scared and confused. I remember calling up to her that everything was going to be okay, he was just scared and, despite what it looked like, neither one of us was being hurt. This kid-out-of-control scenario was something she wasn't used to and it rocked her to her core, and I remember wondering at that moment what kind of permanent damage I was doing to my other kids.
We have not arrived. We still struggle with birth order and we just recently did a multi-kid room migration to create needed separation for MB. We still struggle with disrespectful body language (I bet my kid can out-shoulder-shrug and out-eye-roll your kid), communication and hypersensitivity to correction. If he thinks there's any chance he's "getting in trouble", he loses all knowledge of the English language and resorts to an incoherent mumble.
He also attempts to make peace in (almost) all situations and tries so hard to do the right thing. He often prays that God would help him to put others first and himself second. I love this kid, this kid loves me and I cannot imagine not being his mom.
I'm not going to say this last year has been easy. It has not. But it has been blessed. I can see the hand of God holding me, pruning me and ruining me. As MB struggled to let walls fall, learn to love and be loved, so did I. It's been, hands down, the hardest and best year of my life. Looking forward to what 2013 holds for this crazy ship and it's inhabitants.
Then: 44 lbs and 43.5" tall. Now: 51 lbs and 47.5" tall. (growing 4 inches in a year - that's a lot, right?)
Then: Zero English (unless you count his completely odd and useless knowledge of the words elephant and motocycle). Now: He's not only completely fluent in English, but he's starting to master reading and writing. He still has an accent, and he may always have it. (those who have adopted older children, what is your experience with retaining/losing their accent?)
Then: Eyes big as saucers as he rode, with fear and excitement, an elevator for the first time and his look of wonder and joy as the door opened to a completely different scene.
Now: Say hello to a child that can operate every electronic device in our house as good or better than I can. This weekend he even figured out how to text Tesi from his ipod, something I didn't even know was possible.
Then: Only a faint memory of what a family looks like, what unconditional, never-quitting, always-there love is.
Now: He is the poster child for what loving your family looks like. If I could somehow bottle his passion, generosity and compassion I would figure out a way to contaminate the world's water supply with it, and planet earth would be a very different place.
Then: I won't say that fear and doubt ruled my heart, but it definitely lurked. Was I screwing up my family forever? Was I biting off more than I can chew (5 kids in 6 years?)? Was I even capable of loving and parenting in the way that would now be required?
Now: How in the world do I deserve to be so blessed? The thought that I could have let fear prevent me from seeing this miracle unfold is the scariest of thoughts now.
Then: Will this child ever give/receive affection? Hugging him is like wrapping my arms around a 2 x 4.
Now: If a contest ever existed for the tightest, never-letting-go, giving it all you've got hug, he would bring home the gold.
I look back eleven months ago and I vaguely remember holding a writhing, confused, scared, screaming little boy as he fought me with every ounce of his 44 lbs. I barely recognize that boy, but remembering his great fear and loss feeds my compassion for him to this day.
There were certainly times I screwed up and didn't respond the way I should, and I remember those the most clearly. I remember with stunning clarity holding MB on my lap as he screamed and kicked and tried to bite me, looking upstairs and spotting the Eldest just watching, crying silently, out of her mind scared and confused. I remember calling up to her that everything was going to be okay, he was just scared and, despite what it looked like, neither one of us was being hurt. This kid-out-of-control scenario was something she wasn't used to and it rocked her to her core, and I remember wondering at that moment what kind of permanent damage I was doing to my other kids.
We have not arrived. We still struggle with birth order and we just recently did a multi-kid room migration to create needed separation for MB. We still struggle with disrespectful body language (I bet my kid can out-shoulder-shrug and out-eye-roll your kid), communication and hypersensitivity to correction. If he thinks there's any chance he's "getting in trouble", he loses all knowledge of the English language and resorts to an incoherent mumble.
He also attempts to make peace in (almost) all situations and tries so hard to do the right thing. He often prays that God would help him to put others first and himself second. I love this kid, this kid loves me and I cannot imagine not being his mom.
I'm not going to say this last year has been easy. It has not. But it has been blessed. I can see the hand of God holding me, pruning me and ruining me. As MB struggled to let walls fall, learn to love and be loved, so did I. It's been, hands down, the hardest and best year of my life. Looking forward to what 2013 holds for this crazy ship and it's inhabitants.
Then
Now
Thank you so much for writing this! We will be bringing home a 6-year old son later this year from ET, and your post gives me so much hope. We have no doubt that this is the path God has for our family, but it is easy for fear to creep in. I appreciate all honest accounts that I read, and sincerely thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteHope. Yes, always have hope :-) And a healthy dose of fear isn't always a bad thing. Maybe properly reworded "realistic expectations"
DeleteLOVE. That is all I can say. xoxo
ReplyDeleteGreat to read. It was like an excerpt from our life. I can just say ditto with perhaps a bit more anger than you've described thrown in for good measure. And yes, B's still got an accent too... for awhile I thought it was a speech delay, then I remembered he was Ethiopian and it was likely just an accent. :) I'm quite curious what you've decided to do with the room arrangements... we're contemplating a switch-a-roo here too to see if something might work a bit better with our out-of-birthorder trio. Keep me posted!
ReplyDeleteMaybe I will write a blog about it after we see how it goes. The jist of it is, we switched MB and Taz up, so MB now has a room by himself on the main floor next to us and Taz (heaven help us) is upstairs with Zoom. We pray he stays safe up there ;-)
DeleteSo amazing. Sounds a lot like my Tomas. And I loved his text! :)
ReplyDeleteTears of joy for your little guy (and your family). And I'm sad to say that Markos' accent is completely gone except for a (very) few words that he pronounces differently than we do. :-(
ReplyDeleteLori - do you remember if Markos' accent was still there after a year? I'm sort of thinking that if he was going to lose it, he would have by now?
Deletebeautiful, all the difference a year can make. love you all.
ReplyDeleteditto friend :)
DeleteI have always been curious how my B and your MB measured up to each other since they are so close in age (supposedly). Went to the Ped today and B measured 47.5" and 53.5 lbs. He started out at 43" and 45.5 lbs, so they are the EXACT same size. CRAZY.
ReplyDeleteThat is awesome! MB and B sound so much alike on so many levels. You guys should move closer :-)
Delete