Rini, our youngest of six children, was adopted in August of 2013 at end stage heart failure stemming from complex, single ventricle congenital heart disease. She was admitted to the hospital immediately upon arrival home and within two weeks it was determined that she was inoperable, her only hope would come through cardiac transplant. She was initially found to be ineligible, but that would change thanks to a heart failure/transplant program that chose to take a chance on hope and optimism.

Much as we owe her life to the sacrifice made by her birth family in letting her go, we also owe it to the incredible, selfless act of organ donation made by a family in the midst of the incomprehensible loss of their child.

This series is a retrospective of the weeks leading up to Rini’s transplant which took place on November 13, 2013, and it is my hope that it will help to bring awareness to the importance of registering to be an organ and tissue donor.

We all have the power to be someone else’s miracle.

Donate Life!

From November 6th, 2016

On this day three years ago, we waited in a land of shadows. We were waiting for her precious, tired heart to let us know once again that it was fighting a losing battle. All of us were hoping that it could last another hour, another day, another week. Anything to close the gap between the time she had been on the list and the time when we might expect, based on averages, that a heart might become available to her.

Rini’s doctors let us know that she had been listed to be able to accept a heart from a child as small as 6 pounds up to 35 pounds. Oh God, it was such a terrible thing to be waiting for.

Transplant is an awful, horrific thing to be waiting for. To need another child’s heart to keep my child alive was devastating to me. I’m acutely sensitive, and as a child I endured many stings from when I would reach my hand into my parents’ swimming pool in order to rescue a drowning bee. The memory of hearing the sounds of a rat caught in a trap the exterminators had placed in our attic when I was a little girl still bothers me. The suffering of others is something I cannot help but be affected by, and to be dependent upon the death of another family’s child to be able to offer mine life was something I know I will never be able to reconcile myself with. 

From my journal:

“Eric is on his way to SeaTac for his flight home, and I am sitting here behind Rini’s bed with a heavy heart and a lot of anxiety. At rounds this morning, Rini’s team treated us with great compassion as they explained that Rini’s situation is very tenuous and that we need to approach it minute by minute. It is not a question if she will arrest again, but rather when. Whether to preemptively place her on ECMO or reactively do so is a question without a clear answer. 

Later today, they will be taking a look at our baby girl’s neurological function since her pupil dilation has been going from sluggish to rapid and they are concerned about possible brain edema. They will also be investigating whether she may be having seizure activity. They defined it as a ruling out procedure, as they are attempting to get to the bottom of spikes they are witnessing in some of her numbers. I apologize for not being able to give more specific information. I’m realizing that I actually do have a saturation point. The woman who usually has an insatiable appetite for information really can’t seem to absorb anything more.

I have spent so much of my life trying to keep things neat, tidy, and tied up into little bundles. Flexibility and dealing with ambiguity have never been easy for me. “You have no patience!” is something I have often heard. Yet here I am, straddling a fence with our child, with death on one side and life on the other. She teeters to one side and then wobbles over onto the other, with Eric and I helpless to steer her in the direction that we hope she will go. I am scared that we will never hear her voice again, or feel her little hand gripping our fingers.”

From November 7th, 2016:

On this day three years ago, it had been 43 hours since Rini’s arrest. I woke up at 8 am after a fitful four hours of sleep. It was a Thursday morning, cold and gray, as many are in the Pacific Northwest in autumn. I had been woken up by the announcement being made that the Cardiac ICU huddle was about to begin, which is when the entire team gathers to discuss the morning’s agenda before beginning rounds. Rini’s room was very quiet, except for the sounds of her monitors and her nurse’s movements, and I walked to the side of Rini’s bed so that I could touch her and whisper my good morning wishes to her. Wanting to shower and be back to her room in time for rounds, I opened the sliding glass door to her bathroom and began gathering my toiletries for my trek down the hall, but decided to brush my teeth before I left. 

From my journal:

“Just then, one of Rini’s alarms sounded. I didn’t think much of it at first because alarms are beeping all the time and usually they cease as she levels out. However, the pattern that I have noticed over the past two days has been a cessation after three beeps, and this morning the beeping continued. I got up and went to where I could see the monitors and her nurse was there and she paused the alarm. It was her blood pressure, which had dropped but had climbed back up. I turned and went into the bathroom and began brushing my teeth.”

The alarm sounded again and I looked over at her nurse. Her face told me everything I needed to know. She yelled, “Get the crash cart!” The entire CICU team was gathered just steps from Rini’s room for the huddle, and within a few seconds they were in.

Rini’s heart had stopped. This was it. I slipped out of the bathroom and sat down on my bed at the rear of the room. I felt the most intense combination of utter sadness and total peace. Time seemed to stand still as the incredible choreography of lifesaving measures took place. There were at least 15 people already in her room with more arriving. There was calm within chaos, with each person intent on their role. I remember being shocked at how violent the chest compressions looked, as though they themselves could kill a child. 

I talked to God, and thanked Him for many things: for having placed Rini on my heart; for allowing me to take over the role of mom for her birth mother who let her go out of love; for this incredible country and the healthcare available here; for my husband who didn’t even flinch when, after months of fierce advocacy had failed to secure her a family, I had looked at him and said, “I want to adopt her.” 

If Rini’s little soul had already left her body but was still in the room, I didn’t want her to see me in hysterics being pulled out screaming. So I did my best to gather all the love I had for her and focus on it. I wanted my precious baby girl to feel free to leave if she needed to, and not to feel any burden because of my emotions. Being with Rini during those long minutes was one of the most precious times of my life.

From my journal:

“I teared up as I watched all of these people fighting for her life. They were fighting for the life of a little girl who wasn’t even fed in the PICU in China, whose orphanage would not permit her to be transferred for medical care in Beijing because, in their words, “….she will die anyway. There is nothing that can be done for her so why are you spending so much time on her?”

Please don’t think for a minute that I harbor ill will towards those who cared for her there. I have great compassion for the predicament they are in. It’s an overwhelmed, underfunded system and so many children are the casualties of it. Every day, more children enter. Every day, more children die. It is endless. On an intellectual level, I completely understand.

Look at the care she is receiving here! There is no way that this level of care can be devoted to just one child in China when there are thousands of others who need it, too. So as I sat there and watched them attempt to save our child’s life, I felt such immense gratitude.”

I called Eric as the arrest was taking place, as he deserved to be present with his baby girl, even if only in spirit. He was very calm. The arrest lasted over 5 minutes, and a weak heartbeat was recovered. I looked to my right and the transplant social worker was sitting next to me, as was the physician who had been assigned to our family as part of the hospital’s palliative support program. She and her colleague would visit families like ours each and every day and would act as a liaison between us and the rest of her team. It was such a blessing, and we never felt lost or alone because of it.

I was required to leave her room at that point, as they were about to place Rini on ECMO. But first, I leaned down to Rini’s ear and whispered words from my heart, and I told her that mommy would be back. I was permitted to return to her room approximately 90 minutes later and was briefed on what to expect. Rini would have one to two nurses in her room at all times plus one to two ECMO perfusionists who would be stationed at her bedside at all times.

Almost from the beginning of her time on ECMO, Rini experienced complications. The ECMO perfusionists sat beside the machine during their entire shift, and every hour they’d perform a detailed inspection of the circuit, checking for signs of clots. By early afternoon, the first clot had been discovered. ECMO is dangerous for several reasons, one being that the high doses of Heparin needed to keep the circuit flowing smoothly can cause internal bleeding, namely in the brain. In some cases, Rini being one of those, the child is a chronic clot former despite appropriate Heparin dosing.

From my journal:

“A few hours after ECMO started, she developed a clot which was caught during the hourly check performed by the two ECMO specialists on shift. Because of the danger of the clot breaking lose and traveling into her body, it had to be removed. It took about an hour to prepare everything, and for the two specialists performing the intervention to rehearse the process multiple times.

They planned it, vocalized it, and then acted it out over and over while being timed until they were confidant they would be able to intervene as quickly and safely as possible. I was permitted to stand right outside the door and watch. The ECMO circuit was turned off, thus ceasing circulation in order to stop the blood flow as they cut the plastic tubing, removed the portion containing the clot, and then reattached the tubing to the machine. The entire process took just 150 seconds. Her heart rate dropped of course but as soon as the ECMO was turned back on, it went right back up.”

Several hours later…

From my journal:

“Her room has been filled with team members all day, and it became apparent pretty quickly that they were having trouble with perfusion. Everyone is born with a little tunnel between the aorta and pulmonary artery known as the Patent Ductus. In most newborns, it closes within a few days of birth. But in some children it remains open, and is then a cardiac defect known as patent ductus arteriosis (PDA). Rini has a PDA, and in her case, it helped her single ventricle anatomy by allowing mixing of oxygenated and unoxygenated blood. Because of her severe pulmonary stenosis, which kept blood from being able to get to her lungs for oxygenation, her PDA permitted some blood to make its way into her lungs through another route.

During her heart catheterization in September, her PDA was stented open to allow more blood flow into her lungs in an effort to increase her blood oxygenation. But now that she is on ECMO, that stented PDA is causing big problems. ECMO is circulating blood through her body but the blood is being siphoned off from her systemic flow and into her lungs through the PDA.

She also has two large collateral vessels that have formed that are also sucking blood down into her lungs. This is making it difficult for her brain, kidneys, liver, intestines, and body tissues to receive the necessary blood flow, plus it’s causing there to be way too much blood flow into her right lung.

Her left lung is not functioning (it is crushed under her enlarged heart), and her right lung has already undergone damage for receiving so much blood flow over her lifetime. With only one viable lung, it is imperative that her right lung be as protected as possible in preparation for transplant.”

75% of Rini’s blood was shunting directly to her right lung rather than making its way out to her body, a situation they termed as “dire”. I was taken to the Quiet Room and Eric joined via conference call. One of the interventionists and a transplant cardiologist discussed with us that they were preparing to take Rini into the cath lab where they would be partially or completely occlude the PDA and the collateral vessels depending on what they found.

The conversation then turned to the VAD (ventricular assist device) that had arrived. Given this turn of events, Rini would no longer be a candidate for it. The VAD would not be compatible with her anatomy once the PDA was occluded, since there would be no way for her blood to be oxygenated (a VAD does not have an oxygenator as ECMO does). It wouldn’t have been compatible anyway, regardless of the PDA occlusion, as illustrated by her hemodynamic shift on ECMO. It was a somber point in the conversation, with the physicians making sure we understood completely that ECMO was now the only bridge there would be for Rini. It felt like the tunnel we were in with Rini was narrowing and growing darker by the minute.

By that point in the day I was completely shaken and numb. It is only by looking back that we can see how incredibly close Rini came to death on so many occasions. I had no time to catch my breath on that day or to really digest all that was happening.

The cath took over six hours, and it was close to midnight when we settled back into her room together. The collaterals and the PDA were completely occluded, resulting in a wonderful ten point rise in her blood pressure. Her rhythm began to go askew so they did a chest x ray to make sure the occluder had not shifted (it had not).

I’ve never been as aware of time as I was once Rini was placed on ECMO. It had become our most precious commodity and our biggest adversary.

Every child is different, and those differences make life a beautiful kaleidoscope. Our family was formed through adoption and through our most recent adoptions we have become familiar with various aspects of developmental delays.

We adopted our sons domestically, and then we adopted our two two year old daughters from China one year apart. With each adoption our lives have changed. Our days have become more intentional, our calendars more detailed, and our home a lot louder. Some days are smooth, and others we spin in a lot of directions as we work to meet everyone’s needs.

It’s both exhausting and incredibly gratifying. We lean on God a lot more than we used to, and He is gracious. We are a family of six now when we at one point didn’t know if we would ever have children; and we are so blessed to be a family who can share a little about our journey of adopting children with developmental delays.

Two of our children were at one point or another diagnosed with developmental delays, but honestly all of our children have developed various skills at different times. We are parents, but we are both also teachers, and we see this every single day in our students as well. Kids develop according to their own timelines, and most kids develop certain things earlier and certain things later. Children develop when they are ready.

When we began the process to adopt from China, like every family, we spent hours educating ourselves on the various medical and developmental terms that make up a medical conditions checklist (MCC). Since China is a special needs adoption program, we knew that we were going to adopt a child who needed medical care.

One part of this checklist that our social worker told us everyone usually checks is being open to developmental delays. Our social worker explained that for kids who have spent their early years in an orphanage environment, every three months of institutional care equals one month of delay. We understood this, but this specific guideline is not set in stone, and we’ve seen through two adoptions that kids are unique.

Developmental delay often is a medical need that adoptive parents say yes to without fully understanding. Not all kids will catch up in the same ways.

Some kids will always have delays, and parents who include developmental delay on their medical needs checklist need to be okay with that.

The only promise with this special need is that a child will have a much better life with a family than in an orphanage if they do have significant developmental delays, and that you will be amazed by how much he/she can learn. These kids, they will inspire you, and they will make you a better person.

We have always been open to adopting a child with developmental delays. The biggest change that occurred from our first China adoption to our second was that, after parenting our first adopted daughter, we were much better prepared to parent a second child with multiple medical needs.

While we expected our first daughter to have more minor needs, we were not positive until she got home what her medical and developmental challenges would be. We also naively believed that most kids with developmental delays would catch up, according to the statistics we had become familiar with.

Some people watch videos of the child they hope to adopt and attempt to make guesses at the future. Some people watch videos and look for the spark in a child’s eyes that they believe means they will catch up. I remember watching a video of our daughter prior to being matched with her, and I remember noticing that she had zero core strength. She looked like she could fold in half. But she somehow still seemed strong.

Because of her medical needs, likely due to environmental factors, she was lacking muscle tone. There is no way to predict whether low tone and delays are due to lack of use or lack of ability. Our lively and very spunky daughter looked depressed and shut down in most of the pictures we received. Images and videos sent from 7,168 miles away couldn’t show her true personality at all. Almost everything we assumed about her was wrong.

Some kids do catch up very quickly once they are adopted. Over the past year, our first adopted daughter went from being a 14 month old who couldn’t bear weight when standing to a child who runs, plays, climbs, and is incredibly strong. When we met her in China, she was weak, and we wondered if she had more significant issues with her legs. She cried for a few hours on and off the first day, but then she quickly clung to us. She was and still is a very smiley little girl.

I’ll never forget the excitement in our youngest son’s voice when he saw her take her first steps after practicing so much. He was so happy and so proud of her. He had been encouraging her to take steps, and being a part of that process was so important to him. She’s two now, and last night she taught herself how to pump her legs on a swing and was also trying to do cartwheels! She has come so far so fast!

Initially after coming home, she was receiving services from our county birth to three program, but she is no longer getting active services. She can sing, dance, count, recite nursery rhymes, color, and keep up with every other two year old in the neighborhood.

She’s thriving, and it has been such a blessing to witness.

She does still have challenging orphanage related behaviors and she knows how to throw a tantrum, but some of the orphanage behaviors have slowly decreased as she’s become more comfortable with us. She is on the go at all times, she loves sensory activities, and she needs constant supervision. The Out-of-Sync Child book has been a great resource. It’s truly hard to know though what is typical two year old behavior and what is orphanage related at this point. She is healthy, and the progress she has made developmentally over the course of a year has been very smooth.

From 2015-2017 we met people and formed relationships that prepared us to adopt our second daughter, and we also learned more about real developmental delays. Adopting our second daughter, we knew she had a complex medical history. While we understood that her main medical need was complex cardiac, we believed that she had challenges beyond those mentioned in her medical file.

We watched her play and laugh in videos we received, but we could tell she didn’t have any idea how to crawl or stand. She played imaginatively with toys, and complained when others took her toys. She was sweet and gentle, and there was something, just a small hint of something, that made us wonder if she had hearing problems. It might have been the tilt of her head. We can’t explain it in any logical way – and it wasn’t in her file – but we felt it.

Developmental delay can vary greatly, and it is impossible to know in advance how a child will catch up, or even if they will. Our second daughter’s health history is like an intricately woven novel with every other page missing.

What we did get was quite detailed. Her file contained more information than most people get, and we felt like we were relatively prepared. We raced to get her home quickly once we were matched. Her file mentioned gross motor delays, and we knew that other children her age in her orphanage were walking while she was not yet even crawling.

Her heart condition seemed stable, but she was struggling to grow. We didn’t know if her delays were related to environment, malnutrition, shifting caregivers multiple times, time spent in hospitals, or potentially even due to low oxygen levels prior to or after her first heart surgery. We could not bring her home fast enough.

Significant delays are fairly common for kids with congenital heart disease. We tried to be so prepared, so educated, and still, we were not ready for our first day with our newest daughter. She was so sick, so brokenhearted, and we knew the moment we first held her that she had missed a lot of developmental milestones.

Parenting a child with multiple medical needs is a blessing in so many ways, but our most recent time in China was one of the hardest times we’ve experienced as a family. We messaged with our support network of China adoption moms daily, and they talked us through many minor crises.

We had envisioned our first days with our daughter going much differently. She was in shock, she was terrified of us, and she was frozen and unwilling to trust us for weeks. Her fear was palpable, and her emotions intertwined with our own. She acted like her legs could not bend because she didn’t want to make it easy for us to hold her, she threw up repeatedly from fear and illness and she struggled to breathe through the night. She was feverish, and malnourished – her waist was so small; it was incomprehensible. I cry thinking about the first time I changed her diaper, and I always will.

In the first few days, we didn’t know if we would be enough for our precious new daughter, and we tried to think too far in advance. Those first few days, we allowed fear to overshadow God’s promises. We had raced to our daughter because we knew she was sick, and we felt absolutely helpless in the moment. We also suspected right away that she could not hear well.

The city we were in didn’t seem like a good place to seek medical care, so we just did our best. We just wanted to get our daughter home. It was a traumatic week for our little girl as she adjusted to life in our family, and we learned how to take care of her. She was so scared, and so brave.

No one ever told us – as we struggled in China with all of our daughter’s unexpected medical and developmental needs – that not in spite of, but because of these challenges, we as a family would learn to love even more fiercely and protectively than we knew was possible.

No one ever told us that through this journey God would mold us all according to His will.

No one ever told us He’d hold our hands and walk this journey with us and that we were not the only deciding factor in our child’s growth.

No one ever told us that the farther we had to climb, the more exquisite the view would be.

Some kids take their time to gain skills once they are in a family, and not every kid will catch up. Because both our girls are the same age, it is difficult not to compare even when we know that we shouldn’t. Our second daughter was adopted at 24 months old, and her early years involved more changes in caregivers, congenital heart disease, and a surgery with complications before the age of one.
We are so in awe of her resilience.

In the early days as her parents, we spent time contemplating the “what ifs” in relation to developmental delays. We quickly realized that if our daughter never learned to walk, we would love her just the same, maybe even more fiercely, while we sought out the resources needed to enrich her life. We realized within a few weeks that if she needed to communicate with sign language, we would learn it. We were committed to gaining her access to everything she would need, and we would all gain new skills and experiences because of it.

Sometimes the things you think are meaningful pale in comparison when you’re confronted with much bigger issues. Parenting a child who is labeled developmentally delayed is a little bit different, but mostly it’s the same.

Growth occurs when it’s meant to and we are having so much fun playing with our children along the way. Therapy for little kids is really just very intentional play.

Our newest daughter’s growth since coming home has been slow and steady. At one point this summer her medical diagnosis list was very long. Treating her severe reflux (GERD), getting ear tubes, and surgically repairing some problems with her heart have given her back the ability to grow and learn. She has been through a lot since coming home five months ago.

She is currently in physical therapy and the county early intervention program. We have researched developmental toys, and purchased items that helped her gain core strength. We have also talked to other parents who had children working on core strengthening activities. Our sweet girl is gaining skills so quickly now, and her list of diagnoses is shortening. She is still developmentally delayed, but those terms don’t significantly impact daily life.

When we began writing this article she could stand, crawl, and take a few steps. Last week, she started walking! Our next step is teaching her how to stand up without having to pull up using furniture.

She is gaining speech at her own pace, and she loves baby sign language. Truly though, none of these skills changes who she is or what brings us the most happiness. She is special, she is courageous, and she is one of the happiest children I have ever known. She smiles, she laughs, she makes all of our lives so much fun, and she communicates very easily with us. We realized in China that she learns sign language easily, so we’ve been watching Baby Sign videos as a family to help bridge the language gap as she learns. It is so much fun for all of us, and our other children are also learning sign language because of this.

So what is life like parenting a child with developmental delays?

Saying yes to adopting a child with developmental delays means saying yes unconditionally…

It means saying yes to parenting differently.
It means saying yes to various forms of therapy and being open to seeking early childhood intervention.
It means yes to calling moms across the country to talk about parenting kids who are similar to yours.
It means yes to seeking out answers.
And it means saying yes to experiencing the beautiful highs and lows alongside your child.

We have found support in unlikely places, learned how to lean on others and ask for help when we need it and learned how to let go of activities that are not truly important to make room for what is important. We’ve learned how to pray and have complete faith in God’s promises. Some days it feels like learning to ride a bike for the first time; you keep going because if you slow down, you just might lose your balance.

Some of the hardest moments have been pushing our newly adopted daughter to work on skills she needed to gain but didn’t want to. And even though I’ll never forget how hard it was for her to learn to stand, the joy and victory of watching her learn to walk brightly outshines the hard parts.

We are Christian parents. It is our goal to provide all of our children with what they need to learn and grow in faith. We value our children’s strengths, and work to help them succeed in the areas they are working to improve. Life isn’t a sprint, and there aren’t winners or losers. We all end up at the same place no matter how we start. Life is more of a winding road along which we have many chances to make a difference and share God’s message.

As a parent, it’s our job to help our children view life through that lens as well. As parents we believe that our children’s worth isn’t based on their own works or on their own developmental abilities. They aren’t worthy because they can run fast or catch a ball, and they definitely aren’t worthy because they can read well or speak clearly.

Our children are worthy because they have been set apart and redeemed. They are worthy because they are children of God. Jesus has made them shine, has made them blameless, and living with medical needs and developmental delays can’t touch that kind of perfection.

There is something extremely important about adopting a child with special needs of any sort. It’s related to mindset. You have to go into this process with the belief that you were chosen for this journey because you are able. You have to believe in your child 100% of the time, and you have to be patient. You have to have a mindset that looks for joy every day whether it’s in using a fork correctly or putting in a puzzle piece the right direction.

Children are unique, and what the future holds for any of our children is not promised. What we have is today, and the triumph that transcends daily difficulties.

God is always faithful, and seeing His hand in every step of the adoption process means knowing that in every moment, every hurdle, every mountain climbed, He will give us the strength we need and guide us along the way.

– guest post by Angie

Meet Usher, a gorgeous baby boy who is just turning two this month. He is waiting for his family to find him.

The perplexing diagnosis on his English translation says “cerebral agenesis” but his Chinese characters actually translate to “brain dysplasia” which makes a bit more sense as that is something we often see in the reports from China meaning there is a brain scan difference. Usher has no brain scan in his reports, nor mention of one being done but there is high muscular tension noted in his left hand. Video and photos show this difference.

Language expression and cognition: he knows his name; he will turn head when being called; he likes to babble to express needs or draw people’s attention; he will laugh when being teased.

Emotion and sociability: he likes to be taken care of or held by familiar early education teacher; can well respond to the nanny and foster parents’ attention; if the nanny makes a high five, he will respond; if you talk to him, he will make sounds or smile; he can turn head and make eye contact or use body to communicate with people; he can look for sound source (voice, sound of bell, etc.).

Hobby and personality: he is a cheerful, active and restless child; he likes to smile; he will smile more when seeing familiar people; he is very interested in toys that can make sounds, move or strongly stimulate sense organs.
Favorite activity: listen to music, play drum
Favorite toy: drum, car, rubber ball

Motor and physical development: he likes to play feet when lying on back; can grasp right foot and pull off the sock, very strong; when lying on stomach, he can raise the body with hands’ support; he can support the body with the strength of abdomen, and reach out one hand to play and use the other hand to support; he can raise one hand to take the bell hung to the shelf; he can sit on the floor mat with the help of the nanny; can hold waist and back straightly; can freely turn to sides; right hand can grasp a toy; can slowly rotate on abdomen; due to high muscular tension of left hand, his hand always makes fist; when crawling or grasping or holding, his left hand can only assist. Dated Oct 2016″

To learn more about Usher, please email Children’s House International Specialist Nina Thompson.

The question I get asked the most about our upcoming trip to China is if we are planning on taking all three of our kids with us. We have one adopted daughter and two biological boys all ages nine and under so I think people are often surprised to hear me answer “yes!”

When we adopted our daughter three years ago, we took our boys on the trip. They had never even been on an airplane before so the 30 plus hours of travel time from our front door to our hotel in China was definitely a huge risk. They were only ages six and four at the time so keeping two little boys still on a plane for hours upon hours was no joke. Plus we often had to help them haul their suitcases and book bags across airports when their arms and legs got tired.

Yet, we have absolutely no regrets about that trip. Our boys were able to walk away from their time with a context for the country of China. When we talk about China now, they can conjure up in their minds the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and even the feel of the streets beneath their feet. They have an admiration and love for their sister’s birth country and they feel connected to her culture because they have experienced it first hand.

They were there the moment our daughter was placed in our arms and they watched her cry and sensed her fear those first few days. We became a family of five together. Our little girl carefully watched as my husband and I loved, protected, and cared for our sons and she began to trust that we would care for her too.

Our boys helped fetch diapers and bottles and snacks. They taught her how to play with Legos and stacking cups. They blew bubbles and showed her how to eat ice cream. Our daughter was used to having a lot of children around her each day so the boys provided a sense of immediate comfort for her.

Our sons were there when she gave us her first smile and then later that week when that smile turned into a giggle.

They were there as our guide explained to us that our daughter’s orphanage hardly had any toys. Then my husband and I watched as they chose to donate their own money at a local Chinese market to buy blocks for the other orphans who remained.

They were there when we visited her orphanage and they saw the almost empty playroom. I watched the look of realization begin to creep in as they both knew that back home their own playroom was brimming with toys.

I saw them interact with the other orphans and deliver the blocks they purchased. I watched their faces as we walked through the room where their sister spent the first two years of her life. They started to understand the reality of her life before we joined it.

As we walked past crib after crib in our daughter’s orphanage, our youngest son turned to me and asked, “Mommy, who is going to come adopt all these kids? These kids need mommies and daddies too.”

That was the moment that made it all worthwhile to me. The long flight with kids. The extra suitcases. The cost of a bigger hotel room. I realized right then and there that our son’s heart was starting to break for the things that break the heart of God.

The two weeks in China together as a family of five is my most treasured time we have ever spent as family. Were we jet lagged? Yes! Exhausted emotionally? Yes! Missing familiar foods and the comfort of home? Yes! However, our primary goal during those weeks was to bond and we were able to do that without the worries of household chores and work and a million other distractions.

When we returned two weeks later, we were stronger because of our time together. Our family unit had slowly started to cement itself in the mind of our daughter.

As we entered our house, we quickly realized that as happy as we were to be home, every single thing felt unfamiliar and new to our daughter. It was in that time that our sons were a precious source of comfort to her. She recognized them and they felt safe to her.

I am well aware it isn’t always possible to take any or all of the siblings to China as you adopt. Here are some topics to think through as you weigh your options:

Know Your Kids: There is a lot of waiting during those two weeks. What are your kids’ personalities? Are they old enough and able to patiently wait as you travel, interact with guides, meet with adoption officials, attend doctor’s appointments, and have the newly adopted child receive the majority of your attention?

Cost: If you choose to take your children, you will need to factor in the added cost of airplane tickets, meals, additional tickets to tourist sites, and perhaps a bigger hotel room.

Childcare Options: Is there someone you trust to take care of your children while you are away? Would your children feel more comfortable staying home with a relative for a few weeks rather than traveling to a foreign country? Or is the better option to bring your children with you?

School/Sports Commitments/Time of Year: A trip to China is often two weeks. Are there sports or school commitments that your children need to fulfill at home? Is it a bad time of year for your children to be away from home? Perhaps school is just starting or a new sports team is forming and you want your children to remain home.

Number: It may not be feasible to take all of the siblings to China, but you might consider taking one child with you. I know plenty of people who have chosen to do that and that is a great option as well. I also know families who have asked a relative or friend to travel with them to help them throughout the trip so they can focus on their newly adopted child.

Special Needs: Finally, it is wise to factor in your newly adopted child’s special need. Depending on your child’s situation, would it be best to travel without siblings in order to give your child the care he or she needs?

Our boys were forever changed by their trip to China to adopt their sister. The extra cost and effort to take them along was well worth it for us as we saw them interact with orphans and other adoptive families.

Their little hearts have now caught a glimpse of the reality of the world and how they can impact it for the better and that is one experience you can’t put a price tag on.

You’ve dreamt for this day for months, years even. Planned for it, traveled halfway around the world for it and played it out in your mind a million times. And yet, the reality of becoming a family through adoption is undoubtedly different.

What happens next depends much on how you, as the adoptive parent, process the discrepancy between expectation and reality.

Do you take that initial rejection personally?
Do you panic at un-met milestones?
Does your commitment feel suffocating when the reality of orphanage life is staring you in the face?

Preparing for Adoption is our focus for the next two months. It is our hope to help you be as ready as possible for that day – the day you’ve waiting and longed for – and all the days to follow.

We recently had a chance to speak with Karla Thrasher, China Program Director at Lifeline Children’s Services, and ask her some specific questions about adoption preparedness.

Q: What pre-adoption training does your agency require for adoptive families?

LL: Lifeline believes that the better prepared and equipped adoptive families are, the more successful their post-adoption experiences will be. One component of pre-adoption training is required education and assessing tools. Families adopting through Lifeline can expect to do the following:

NCFA Hague Training – this training gives families adopting internationally a more general overview of the adoption process, focusing on current trends in the bigger picture of international adoption.

The Connected Child – this book provides an oversight into the unique challenges of connecting and forming attachment with a child adopted internationally;
Dept of State Reading- this required website will provide adoptive families with the specifics/logistics of adopting a child from China.

Marriage Prepare/Enrich – Couples adopting through Lifeline will take this survey to identify areas of strength in their marriage and also to highlight any areas of weakness that may inhibit their success post-adoption.

Crossings – Crossings is a training developed by Lifeline specifically targeted (through lecture, discussion times, and hands on activities) to address attachment issues with a child that has experienced trauma.

Lifeline also provides individualized trainings for families adopting older children, sibling groups, children with specific medical needs, etc during the pre-adoption process. As a part of individualized training, parents may also be matched with a mentor family that has walked a road similar to the one they are walking.

Q: How do you see pre-adoption training impacting families post-adoption?

LL: We find that generally, the more prepared adoptive families are overall, the more successful they will be post-adoption. However, this doesn’t mean their post-adoption transition will be “easy” or without issues; it just means they may feel more equipped because of the training they have received to face the challenges we anticipate all adoptive families will experience.

Q: Do you see a correlation between pre-adoption parental preparedness and post-adoption parental satisfaction?

LL: Pre-adoption preparedness does play a significant role in post-adoption parental satisfaction. Some other components that also play important roles in post-adoption parental satisfaction are having realistic expectations about the post-adoption phase, having a good support system in place once you are home and knowing how to care for yourself as you care for your new child. Because Lifeline is a faith-based agency, we also feel the discipleship families experience during their pre-adoption phase will be very important as they parent a child from a difficult place. While our team will be there to support and equip a family post-adoption, we know it is the Lord that will ultimately provide for the healing of their child’s heart.

Q: What do you do to help parents prepare their homes, other children and extended family members for a new child joining the family?

LL: It is very important that families use the process and all of the “waiting times” exactly for the purpose of preparing those not involved in the actual pre-adoption process from a paperwork standpoint. We encourage families to share the information they are learning pre-adoption (age appropriately) with the other children in their home and with their extended family. We find that extended family may often not understand why families choose to adopt internationally and that this can, in most cases, be easily remedied with education, sharing blogs, introducing extended family to other post-adoptive families, etc.

The best preparation you can do for your immediate family is to spend time together; pour into the blessings you already have and make deposits of quality time anticipating that this type of time may be sparing in the first few months post-adoption. We encourage “date nights” for husbands and wives, using this time to be sure they are on the same page about any post-adoption issues they may be anticipating with their new child. It is so much easier to talk about challenges and make a plan for handling issues that may arise over a cup of coffee at Starbucks rather than in your living room in the middle of a crisis. Praying together for your new child is also a great way to strengthen relationships and form a bond as you wait.

Q: What, if any, have you noticed to be the most significant hindrances to preparedness?

LL: Until families have experienced the challenges and issues that arise post-adoption, it is hard for most to understand just how important pre-adoption preparedness and education is. It’s also human nature for us to want to believe that we are going to be in the very small percentage of families that are not affected by the challenges that most all adoptive families face in the post-adoption phase (and I mean 99% of families when I say “most all”!)

Another hindrance can be a family having a very successful first adoption and believing the second (or subsequent) adoption(s) will mirror their first experience. The last hindrance I’d like to mention is not trusting the professionals and experts that have been placed along your journey. Many of the people you will work with have years of experience in the field of international adoption and really know their stuff! Furthermore, most adoption professionals are in this field because they truly want to see families be successful post-adoption and care about the children they are placing in adoptive homes.

Q: What are some of the biggest challenges families face in-country?

LL: While in-country, the majority of families find themselves to be overwhelmed, exhausted, missing the comforts of home, and lacking support. Some other concerns mentioned are the language barrier, not being able to find specific food items and cultural issues. Many families surveyed post adoption will also say that they did not feel adequately or honestly prepared for their Gotcha Day and what their time in-country would feel like.

As an adoption professional, this challenge seems to concern and sadden me most… it also makes me and my team want to work incredibly hard to change this and ensure we are doing all we can to provide families for this vey critical time in their process.

Q: How do you prepare families for medical surprises?

LL: Our team talks about medical file discrepancies several times through the entire adoption process; including during the inquiry phase, during the home study process, when a family is matched and having their “referral presentation call” and again before travel. We talk through worst case scenarios with specific needs and require contact with medical specialists before a Letter of Intent can be submitted. In addition to medical discrepancies in files, we caution families that they may also experience file discrepancies in the areas of age, social history, and information concerning education, personality and behavior.

Q: How do you support families in-country?

LL: We strive to maintain connection and relationship with families in-country through check-in e-mails and communicating via we-chat. In addition, our US team maintains very close contact with our in-country team and they alert us if any situations may arise where a family needs our assistance. Our China team loves the families they serve and desire to support their families as much as possible when the real journey begins and a child has been placed in their arms. Not only are we available should there be any bigger issues, but we also make ourselves available to celebrate progress such as a little one taking a bottle from mama for the first time, a child sleeping through the night after a few nights of little sleep for a family or even the first dirty diaper for a child that may be experiencing some stomach issues!

As needed, we may also connect families with other post-adoptive families that may have experienced similar struggles in-country; often times it’s the “been there done that” mamas and daddies that can truly provide hope to struggling families.

In cases of extreme medical or attachment challenges, we have access to IAC pediatricians and Lifeline counselors that will connect with families while in-country to provide around the clock support. In addition to the support mentioned above, your caseworker will be praying with you and continuing to disciple and pour into your family.

Q: What are some of the biggest challenges that families face post-adoption?

LL: We find that most all post-adoptive families face challenges in the areas of sleeping and eating initially. Other challenges we work through with families in-country include communication challenges, initial attachment challenges and children that may bond with one spouse initially and not the other. We find all these issues to all be significant but usually easily and quickly worked through with adoptive families.

Some other challenges that may linger for a longer time period in the post-adoption phase include (but aren’t limited to) more significant attachment issues, more medical issues than anticipated, schooling issues for older children and anger/emotional issues in older children. Our desire as a China team is to jump in with these families and provide support and resources to them as quickly as we are able to. Our promise to post-adoption families is that our team is there for them for as long as their family and/or their child may need us.

Q: What post-adoption services do you offer families?

LL: Lifeline is fortunate to offer families a strong post-adoption support system. As mentioned above, we believe the journey truly begins when you meet your child on “Gotcha Day”. This is when the veil is pulled back and we begin to really know the specifics of your child and what your post adoption journey will truly look like.

In addition to all of the in-country support mentioned above, your caseworker will be in touch with you upon your arrival back in the states. You will then assess together your family’s immediate needs and work on plan to meet those needs. Your caseworker will continue to check in with you on a monthly basis (more frequently if indicated) and will be available to you should you have any crisis situations. Your caseworker will assist you with any resources that may be helpful along your journey and will help you navigate documentation questions, schooling situations, etc.

Should your family need counseling services for more significant post-adoption challenges, Lifeline also has counselors on our staff that can be pulled in to help. Through your post-adoption journey, we are continuing to weave the thread of discipleship through our calls and time spent with your family. Our belief is that the Lord will provide for your family and your child during this time and that He will use us as His hands and feet to encourage and support you.

Q: Are there additional factors, even beyond preparedness, which help adoptive families to succeed?

LL: Yes, there are other significant factors beyond preparedness that we continuously see being key to a family’s success. Families need to be sure they are in a very healthy place relationally as they enter the post-adoption phase; this includes marriages and relationships with other children in the home. Everyone’s world is about to change significantly; relationships need to be shored up and secure as the focus will most likely be on the newly adopted child for the next few months.

Other key characteristics we see in successful adoptive families are families that are willing/able to be flexible expectation and schedule-wise and families (especially mamas) that are able to ask for and receive help; whether it be help cleaning bathrooms or seeking counsel for adoption-related issues being experienced by your family. Families that have prepared well financially for all of the expected and unexpected post-adoption expenses seem to experience less stress in this area as well.

Lifeline also truly sees that families that look to the Lord as their family’s ultimate provision tend to do very well post-adoption; these are families that realize they will not be able to be successful in their own flesh, but instead will need to look to the Lord for healing for their child’s heart and also for continually guiding their family through the post-adoption phase.

Q: Disruption is obviously a huge issue, has your agency implemented anything that has helped reduce this heartbreaking reality?

LL: This truly is a heart-breaking reality that we are all seeing happening more and more in the adoption community. Our agency believes that preventing disruptions or dissolutions begins in the pre-adoption training. We talk openly and honestly about the hardships of international adoption and we set realistic expectations of what the post-adoption phase looks like. We encourage husbands and wives to talk through their own expectations and be sure they are on the same page with how they see their future looking. We stress the danger of comparing biological children to adopted children and also of comparing your process to the process of your neighbor. We address these topics several times throughout the entire adoption process and talk through many more of the difficult topics we see playing a part in the disruptions/dissolutions we are seeing.

We also spend a lot of time talking about “commitment” and how our expectation as an agency is that families are committing to a child; not a file. We realize this isn’t the part of international adoption that many families want to focus on; it would be much more fun to talk about future trips to Disneyworld and matching Easter dresses. The reality is that we are talking about a child that was created by God and whose life holds so much value! It is negligent of adoption agencies to spend the amount of time that we do with families in process and not have these difficult discussions.

If families reach the point where they feel disruption/dissolution may be an option, they want to consider, we will spend a lot of time talking through the issues they are facing and also assist them with locating counseling appropriate for their situation. We are going to walk with a family through this difficult time just as we walked through all of the other months of their process. Our China team is committed to praying daily for families in crisis, too and for continuing to disciple and support them.

Q: What are some things an adoptive parent could be doing during the wait, on their own, to better prepare for the journey of adoption?

LL: As we mentioned above, “the wait” is a great time to be sure your family members are prepared for the changes that are coming. As amazing and rewarding as adoption is, transition to your new normal can be difficult. Spend time together, make memories, talk about expectations and the hopes you have for your family… the wait is precious time that you won’t ever get back. Don’t squander this time staring at a computer screen hoping for a document to come through or watching a colorful chart on a FB group comparing your timeframes to the timeframes of others in process…. those documents will come and you will find yourself in China before you know it! And the best part is, this is all going to happen in His perfect timing!

Q: What can the adoption community do to help better prepare, support and engage adopting families?

LL: This is a great question! Don’t ask “What can I do for you?” to adoptive families newly home, instead make specific offers to provide meals, fold laundry, drive carpools, etc. A big treat for couples is for individuals to offer child care once their adopted child is ready to be away from primary caregivers. Look for ways to make churches, schools and community events more “friendly” for adopted children and their families. Pray with and for adoptive families that are bringing home children internationally; these families and children are so brave!

Q: What do you most want adoptive parents to know regarding adoption preparedness?

LL: The most important thing to remember as you are going through an adoption process is to soak in all of the information and education that you can; don’t think that any component of education may not apply to you. The truth is, you won’t know what does or does not apply until you actually meet your child and experience them as an individual.

Take advantage of the professionals that are placed in your path; these are people that are trustworthy and truly love your family… they desire to form a special, long-lasting relationship with you and have the best interest of your child at heart.

Lastly, don’t miss this huge miracle that you are a part of! This process was a part of God’s plan for your family from the beginning of time. He is writing a perfect story, with perfect timeframes, and a perfect ending. Nothing touches your story that is not first sifted through the mighty, loving hands of a loving Father.

Your story may have so many twists, turns, surprises and heartache along the way but it is being written by a God who loves your family more than you could ever know.

Look at this crinkled up face smile. Doesn’t it make you want to tickle his belly just to see it?

This sweetie is Adrian who is 3 years old and is waiting for his family to find him. He is a boy who celebrates sunshine. He adores being able to be outside and in the sun. He is also happy with toys, especially those that make sounds. He likes music. He will burst out in belly laughs when being teased and will flash a brilliant smile to his caregivers when they call his name. He is beginning to babble and can verbally interact with others. He is reported to have a more quiet and introverted personality and is content playing by himself when it’s crib time. But his video shows that he would much rather be held than in the crib if he has a choice.

Adrian is diagnosed with Hemophilia A and his caregivers advise that he bruises quite easily so they watch him carefully. He also had surgery for a subdural hematoma as a newborn.

Here are some family stories to give you more information about adopting a child with this need (and what life with this need looks like).

Adrian is currently listed with CHI. For more information about adopting Adrian please email CHI Specialist Nina Thompson.

The ability to speak is commonly used as a litmus test for intelligence. After all, audible language equates with the ability to form thoughts. True?

Not true. Oftentimes, non-verbal children have the same thoughts and feelings as typically developing peers but don’t have the skills or ability to use words to express themselves. We have learned this firsthand in our home over the past year.

We brought our boys home and experienced a typical transition between cultures and languages. Within a month we could tell they were understanding a lot of what we were saying. It was very exciting and we felt certain that we would be hearing words from them in no time.

While we waited we received a lot of support and encouragement such as:

They’ll talk.
Just give them time.
They’re learning a whole new language.
Just relax.

Soon enough though, the narrative changed to:

What words do they say now?
Have you checked their hearing?
Aren’t they going to speech therapy?
Why aren’t they talking yet?

Apparently there is an expiration date on patience when it comes to language, and rightly so.

Every child has a right to express themself; a right to have a voice and be heard. Without language there is often isolation and exclusion even if it’s unintended. There are misunderstandings and frustrations which lead to anger and relationship breakdowns.

After a year of language immersion, hearing tests, ear tubes and speech therapy we were still only hearing babbling and the occasional “hi” or non-specific “mama”. Our neurologist decided it was time to act and get our boys some much needed help with language. They were both referred for evaluations with an AAC specialist.

AAC stands for Augmentative and Alternative Communication which is basically an umbrella term for all forms of communication besides oral speech. Facial expressions, grunting, pointing, writing, and sign language are all examples of AAC. Low tech AAC systems include communication books and wall charts with printed symbols. High tech includes computer screens, tablets and various software including apps.

Like all things medical, AAC referrals take time. Our son Philip, age 5, received an appointment first and our son Arthur will soon have his. At Philip’s evaluation we were able to test out different systems. We quickly decided that low tech AAC was not what we were looking for. In our view it would limit the people our sons could communicate with to those who knew and understood sign or symbolic language. We want our sons to have the best chance at communicating with the greatest amount of people so we chose high tech AAC in the form of a speech generating device.

There are many devices available in the AAC market. Possible options include iPads with symbol communication apps or even large screens with the technology to track eye movement for button activation. It’s quite sci-fi – and super, super cool! Ultimately we chose a portable tablet from Tobii Dynavox called Indi. We like Indi because it is small, durable and designed specifically for the purpose of voice output. The software is user friendly and we are already seeing great results.

AAC does not prevent children from speaking but actually produces the opposite result. We are now hearing our son’s first words and we believe it is because of the use of AAC.

Non-verbal children on waiting lists for families are typically hard to place because they are underestimated and misunderstood. We hope to see that change. Being non-verbal does not mean non-communicative and it certainly doesn’t mean unintelligent. Our boys use many avenues of communication because they are creative and have an instinctual need to connect with those around them.

AAC is a wonderful way to give a voice to a child who has yet to find one. Without a family though, waiting children will never have an opportunity to be heard or truly understood.

We are happy to chat with other families with questions about adopting a child with complex communication needs. There is so much help available. These kids deserve families who will believe in them and give them voices.

– guest post by Erin: email || Facebook || You Tube

I wish I could tell you it was easy…

what you’re about to do…

I want to. I want to sell you. Because it sounds like such an easy thing to sell.

But I can’t do it.
I can’t.
I want to but I can’t.

Because what you’re about to do is one of the most inexpressible things you’ll ever walk through. No amount of words can capture it for you ahead of time to give you an accurate picture.

Here’s the reality. The process isn’t predictable. Some of the things you anticipate to be hard will be super easy. The places you expect the big donors to show up will be barren. The sleepers who you thought didn’t even know you existed will walk up to you and become your biggest cheerleaders. There’s not much predictable about the process of adoption. Many families have adopted multiple times. We’ve adopted twice. Very few things were the same. We used the same agency both times. Both our daughters have special needs. Both of them are of Asian decent. Beyond those similarities, these two adoptions couldn’t have been more different. I’d wager a triple-tall iced caramel macchiato that families who’ve adopted multiple times would affirm what I’m suggesting.

These uncertainties make the cliff you’re standing on seem higher that it really is. There are tremendous benefits to having a support system. I wish everyone could walk through this with the support we were fortunate to gather. We love our tribe. Love. Them. They’re a fantastic group of people. Some of the tribe are reading this right now. Many of our tribe don’t even live near us, and still they’ve carried us. Loved us. Cared for us. But the point of this is not our tribe, or any tribe for that matter. Because as much as I wish this were untrue, not every family has the fortune of a strong tribe, or any tribe at all; especially one like we have, filled with seasoned adoptive parents of kids with special needs (there really needs to be an acronym for that… S.A.P.o.K.S.N???).

Even with our phenomenal tribe, being a parent of a child with special needs is isolating. I’m sorry if this is the first time you’re hearing this. I’m even more sorry that it’s true.

You probably have friends right now who don’t understand why you’re doing this. They can’t figure you out. And rather than asking questions and trying to understand, they’re going to begin to distance themselves from you. Those people you thought you’d always have in your corner may slowly fade into the shadows of your history.

For some of you, your family may abandon you. And if they don’t abandon you, you may notice one of two things; either they’ll talk about you behind your back or they’ll begin to avoid you at Sunday dinner.

And then there’s your church. I hope you have a great church with great leaders. But as much as your church leaders would say they want to support you, too often, they simply don’t know how. And whether you’re in the process working and waiting or you’ve been home for three years, too many churches are ill-prepared for what it means to care for adoptive families during the process and post-placement.

But please don’t hear this as defeat. In fact, after seeing more and more families walk the process, I’m convinced this is all setup by God for his good purpose to provide you with abundant opportunities to trust. Take this passage for example:

Like a stream of water…

Throughout scripture the “hand of the Lord” represents His strength, His power, and His work. We can work with Him or we can try to work it out our way. But we should know, God will turn the course, not to fit us, but to fit His plan.

My advice: learn to settle in and trust a little more. He’ll prove He’s worth it. This doesn’t promise smooth seas. As we move with God, as we follow the course He’s laid out for us, we will meet resistance. Sometimes God chooses to use us to cut through the resistance and forge a new way. Other times He uses the resistance to re-route us.

You probably know this by now, but there are reflections of Jesus in all of this; in adoption, in staying the course, in following through in obedience. And if Jesus can be seen then it must be Kingdom stuff. Jesus’ purpose while He was with us was to show us the way (Himself) and teach us to walk in Him. And what does He do to help us? He leaves us a guide (the Holy Spirit) and companions (the Church).

Now, in my dream of a perfect world, the local church would not have to be coaxed and prodded to step up for adoptive families. I believe we will one day be there. But even if nobody steps up to walk with you, you are not alone. When God started stirring your heart for adoption, He was actually inviting you into a partnership. When you said yes to follow the Gospel example of adoption, you became co-workers with God Almighty in the work of adoption.

Isn’t that great news? My prayer for you is that you find a group of people to walk with you. But even if that never happens, I’m praying you realize that your co-working God doesn’t take lunch breaks or sick days or mini-retreats.

He shows up on time.
He stays late.
He helps pick up the slack.
He negotiates the hard stuff.
He closes the deals.
You are not alone.

When plans change change, when it seems God is changing course, know that it’s all under control. Your busy God is working on your behalf.

Like streams of water, may your heart move along by the hand of your co-working God!

Henry was born March of 2014 and his special need is listed as limb difference (strephenopodia or clubbing of both feet for which he recently received surgery).

Henry is the most precious little mouse you are likely to see. You might squeal when you spot him but it would be with delight. Henry is 3 years old, born 3/2014. He likes to play with his caregiver on the phone and make videos using different filters. Henry had surgery on his clubbed feet and is currently recovering. He currently wears boots and a bar to help straighten his feet. He is a pre-reader and loves picture books. The caregivers are trying to help him develop his talents in math!

The caregivers write, “He is a very active and lovely child. The aunties love him very much. In his crib he can kick his feet about, his hands can hold toys, but when he is nearly 1 year old, he can not roll over, can not sit. By the rehabilitation training of therapist for half year, now the child can roll over, can sit; can he can crawl quickly. He can ride the toy sheep to play for a while. He does not cry or shout, he is very obedient and cute. Generally the child also likes to take books with pictures, he is a child who likes to read picture books. Generally aunts will teach him to count. Now the child can count 1 and 2. We hope he can be a mathematics talent in the future.” Dated September 2016

Henry was born with bilateral club feet, for which he recently received surgery. His agency has recently learned that Henry may now be living in a small specialist treatment facility to receive the best post-op care. They believe these most recent videos were taken there:

For more information about adopting Henry, please email Children’s House International Specialist Nina Thompson.

“I don’t get it,” I said to my friend several years ago when she mentioned she was having her toddler evaluated by an early intervention team to assess his speech. “He’s not even two. He’s a late bloomer!” I assured her. I went on with anecdotes about our first born, now 15, who at two years old only had a handful of very unclear words. I remember leaving a list of translations for a friend who was babysitting him one day.

“Guk” means he wants milk. “You-ee” means juice.

While he didn’t have as many words as a little girl his age down the street, I wasn’t worried at the time about his language, and it never would have crossed my mind to seek early intervention. And in the end, he didn’t need it.

So when my friend expressed her concerns, I blew it off. After all, I was the confident mother of three very verbal kids. “He’ll catch up! Therapy is, like, the popular thing to do now. Everyone’s got kids in speech therapy or physical therapy. Let them be kids! They’ll get it.” (Fortunately, she listened to her maternal instincts and ignored my advice. Her child ended up in both speech therapy and occupational therapy.)

It wasn’t until we added our fifth child to our family through adoption in May of 2016 that I was forced to “get it.”

I had prepared myself for every possible scenario that could have come for his heart defect diagnosis, but we were in for many medical surprises and global delays that would challenge every attitude I had formed regarding therapies so long ago. While we have been fortunate enough to work through most of his challenges, we are still facing a speech delay. (The irony. Right?)

It was very early on that I noticed that we had bigger issues than a language barrier. Our newly adopted toddler, at 17 months old, was not only not talking, but he wasn’t really babbling either. He said some “ah” sounds but it was evident that there was no true speech or typical toddler “dada,” “gaga,” and “baba” jibberish. We began working with our early intervention team just weeks after we got home from China, but we were all aligned that for the time being, we should just give him some time and space to adjust to being in a new home around English speakers. Our world was so very different than he was used to in the foster home. We immediately began simple sign language like “more” and “all done” to begin a simple exchange of communication.

As weeks turned to months, Caston made huge leaps in some areas. For example, after several months home, Caston had begun walking, and he had overcome his previous feeding difficulties. In fact, after 14 months of being home, he happily ran over to the pantry, opened the door himself, climbed the stool, and selected his own snack. Once we had worked through feeding and gross motor challenges, we began focusing on speech.

Caston’s speech therapy began with early intervention services through our county program in December of 2016. Our speech language pathologist initially came every couple of weeks to give me ideas of how to elicit words from Caston. With our other children, I would have pointed to a picture in a book, and asked, “What is this? It’s a dog! Dog!” After playing this little sing-songy game a couple dozen times, they would have tried, “Da!” or something similar. But this approach wasn’t working for Caston. She suggested dialing it back and starting with just animal noises which were much more fun and appealing. One of our primary goals for Caston was just working on what she called environmental sounds: moooo, boom, beep beep, whoosh.

I had learned from my reading when my first child was a toddler to narrate our days to develop his language skills, so I was already very used to that. It was second nature to me to say things like, “Ok! Time to go to the grocery store! Let’s get your shoes on. Here are your shoes! Let’s put your blue shoe on your left foot. Now, let’s put your blue shoe on your right foot. All done! Let’s go to the car.” Now though, I needed to incorporate more interesting, easier to reproduce sounds for him to engage his desire for language. It wasn’t simply, “The cow says, ‘moo.’” It was, “The cow says, ‘Moooooooooo! Mmmmmmmmmm. Mmmmmmmmmm. Mmmmmmmm. Mmmmmmmmoooooooo.’” I onomatopoeia-ed our world to death sometimes it seemed, giving every person, animal, thing, and action its own sound.

In February of 2017, Caston was diagnosed with hearing loss. “Aha!” I thought. “That’s why he’s not talking. Problem solved! Let’s get those hearing aids!”

I naively held onto a notion that when we improved Caston’s hearing, it would be a light bulb moment. We would pop the hearing aids in, and a switch would flip. Caston would hear all the sounds he had previously missed, and he would join right in with our very talkative family. (There may have been expectations of a choir of angels singing “Hallelujah” and the appearance of a rainbow.) None of it happened. There was no miraculous explosion of speech. No moment in which we celebrated that we, as stellar parents, identified a problem and fixed it.

Oh how our kids can humble us.

It took a while for Caston to finally reciprocate with a sound, and when he did, it was “meow,” still one of his favorites. Our SLP was right. Asking him repeatedly what a cat was elicited no response, but saying, “Meeeeeowww,” and signing cat did excite him. And then, we celebrated. Our boy was finally using his own sounds (other than crying) to communicate.

We continued with early intervention services, and we also began speech therapy in April of 2017 at the children’s hospital, just weeks after Caston received his hearing aids. I was skeptical at first. After all, why would I spend the time and money for a child who wasn’t yet attempting words? It seemed that it was kind of a waste when he was really only making a couple of animal noises. However, his signing skills were improving. He could pretty much communicate all his desires by signing or simply leading us to what he wanted and gesturing. Actual spoken language continued to be our biggest hurdle.

While our early intervention SLP worked with me on what I could do at home to help Caston, our SLP at the hospital focused on Caston during sessions. It ended up being a great balance, and I got input from two different speech language pathologists who fortunately already had open lines of communication. Caston began trying to speak at home when we really pushed him, but he refused to try it at the hospital. In fact, when the two SLPs communicated, the one from the hospital couldn’t believe the things Caston would say at home. She had never witnessed him attempt any words.

I think it’s really important to note here that while Caston was and is attempting to speak, most of his word are approximations. He currently only produces vowel sounds, Ms, Ns, Ls, Hs, and Ys. Our immediate family understands the majority of what he says because he is excellent in mimicking syllables, intonation, inflection, and sentence structure. What you hear as, “Ahn ah, Mama,” we hear as, “Thank you, Mama.” When his signs are hard to distinguish, we know when he’s asking to eat “chicken” versus when he’s asking to “read.” (His signs are sometimes only partial or approximations as well, and his tiny hands sometimes make them difficult to discern.) However, the combination of word approximations and sign approximations makes it clear that he is asking for us to read him a book. In a way, Caston really has his own language!

In addition to his many months of undiagnosed hearing loss, Caston has yet another challenge in speech. Both of our SLPs are aligned in thinking that Caston has a velopharyngeal insufficiency which means that his palate isn’t functioning properly to even make sounds like P, B, D, G, and so on. Once Caston is cooperative and will repeat words on command, he will undergo a Multiview Video Fluoroscopy to determine if he needs corrective surgery and exactly which area needs to be corrected in order for him to speak properly.

Until then, we’ll just keep working with our sweet boy — learning new signs, celebrating his word approximations, and practicing the words he will need to repeat in order to undergo the Multiview. We are hopeful that when that point finally comes, we will have a plan for how to most effectively help Caston with speech.

If you are a parent of a kiddo with a speech delay, here are some things to keep in mind:

1. Get an evaluation through early intervention or a speech language pathologist.

Even if you have only the slightest concern, it’s better to have one or more evaluations as early as possible so that your child can begin any therapy or treatments that he needs. Second (and even third) opinions are valuable.

2. Continue speech therapy, even when it appears she is making no progress.

It took about 5 months of weekly therapy for Caston to even respond to our SLP at the hospital. Prior to that, he sat in my lap, and I had to repeat all of her directions to him. Suddenly he had a breakthrough, and he began working with her instead of defaulting to me. For the past two sessions, I have sat behind my son in a chair and just watched their interactions. He is finally starting to attempt words for her. Even though it didn’t appear that speech therapy was at all effective, the time we invested was valuable in building a relationship between Caston and his speech therapist.

3. Signing can be your lifeline.

Communication doesn’t have to be strictly spoken. Sign language has eliminated a lot of frustration in our family, and it has given Caston so much pride and confidence when he can communicate his needs and wants to us.

4. Communications cards or boards can also be a bridge for language.

Our early intervention SLP made a simple laminated communication board for us so that Caston can communicate with people other than our immediate family. We have always had a sibling present to “translate” for the babysitter or Sunday school teacher, but there will come a time that one of us may not be there. We want another method for communication that he is familiar with and comfortable using when grandparents are visiting or for the day when he starts going to his Sunday school class without us.

Rini, our youngest of six children, was adopted in August of 2013 at end stage heart failure stemming from complex, single ventricle congenital heart disease. She was admitted to the hospital immediately upon arrival home and within two weeks it was determined that she was inoperable, her only hope would come through cardiac transplant. She was initially found to be ineligible, but that would change thanks to a heart failure/transplant program that chose to take a chance on hope and optimism.

Much as we owe her life to the sacrifice made by her birth family in letting her go, we also owe it to the incredible, selfless act of organ donation made by a family in the midst of the incomprehensible loss of their child.

This series is a retrospective of the weeks leading up to Rini’s transplant which took place on November 13, 2013, and it is my hope that it will help to bring awareness to the importance of registering to be an organ and tissue donor.

We all have the power to be someone else’s miracle.

Donate Life!

From November 1st, 2016

I have no memories of this day, three years ago. In fact, I have no memories of November 1-4, 2013 other than of taking the photo that I will post on the 4th. My recollections of those days were erased, I believe, by the trauma that occurred on the 5th. So tonight, I will write about Rini’s favorite doctor.

I don’t remember the first time I met Dr. Law, the Medical Director of Seattle Children’s Heart Failure and Transplant Services. I liked that he and Rini were born in neighboring provinces in China, but I wasn’t sure if I liked him. He was a man of few words, didn’t smile easily, and seemed to be prone to negativity. But soon I understood that what I first viewed as pessimism was actually realism. With that, we came to depend on him to be the one who would not mince words and we trusted him to give it to us straight. Eric and I viewed him as the barometer of Rini’s status. If he was worried, we were worried. I now know him as one of the most hard working and devoted physicians I have ever met, and he is who Rini refers to as, “My Dr. Law.” 

I remember the night when I caught a glimpse of the soft heart underneath the no-nonsense exterior. I was returning to Rini’s room and saw that he was examining her. It was a couple of months after transplant and Rini was still critically ill in the CICU, but no longer as heavily sedated. His back was to me as I approached her room, and as I came closer I could hear him talking to her. Actually, cooing at her is a more apt description.

“Oh! You’re so cute! Are you trying to wave to me?! Hi there, sweet girl!”

It was an absolutely precious moment between a devoted physician and one of his littlest charges. Not wanting to embarrass him, I quietly backed away and hid around the corner until he had left her room. A few weeks later, Rini was sitting up and playing with Play Doh when her Dr. Law came by and she handed him some. He was befuddled, looked at me with a confused expression and said, “What do I do with it?” So right then and there, my baby and I enjoyed teaching a physician at the top of his field a little something. Rini and I taught him how to play.

From November 3rd, 2016

From November 4th, 2016

On this day three years ago, I walked around our house and looked at all of the reminders of Rini that were there: her portable crib downstairs with the hot pink polka dot sheets, her forest-themed swing, the colorful and tiny baby utensils, her feeding pump, the sweet clothes I had picked out for her that she had not had a chance to wear, her crib next to our bed with the slats that she and I would hold hands through, and the treasured cards and gifts that friends and strangers alike had been sending. 

I looked out our second story hallway window at our mature October Glory maples that were stunningly wearing their autumn colors, and I cried. I went downstairs and out the front door and walked underneath one of them and took this photo. I wanted to remember the very moment when my daughter was so fully on my heart, when every ounce of emotion in my soul was focused on her. 

She had been listed for transplant for 12 days.

Her heart would stop in less than 24 hours.

November 5th

On this day three years ago, our baby girl’s heart stopped. The hardest week of our lives began. It was the week where we would be bombarded by wildly varying emotions that would come like waves that barely receded before the next one came crashing. I cannot speak for Eric, but I personally encountered the deepest pain of my life thus far, and was taken to places within myself that I never could have imagined existed.

My friends, don’t ever tell someone in the midst of pain that God doesn’t give a person more than they can handle. I certainly could not handle on my own what I was in the midst of. That is where faith came in. 

My first memory of the day is of taking our sweet Scarlett to her occupational therapy appointment at Easter Seals. She sat in a swing and expressed such great joy! “Wee!” she said, over and over. It was absolutely precious, and I sent a video of it to Eric so that he could experience the moment for himself. It gave such a sense of gentleness and peace to what would be a day comprised of savage shifts.

I was in our bedroom putting laundry away and it was around 1:30 pm when the phone rang. I put the receiver to my ear and heard the most awful, primal sobbing. It was my husband, who I had never heard cry before. The only words I could make out were, “She’s back.” Stunned and shaking, I told him I was going to hang up and begin packing and called our friends who were on stand-by for childcare. I barely remember throwing my things in my suitcase and making the calls to my friends, although I do remember the love and their take-charge attitudes. 

Eric called me back within fifteen minutes or so, and told me that Rini had gone into cardiac arrest.

From my journal:

“Around noon today, Eric called with his after-rounds report and we were both thrilled that Rini had been stable throughout the night, and her team was feeling optimistic. He and I then began discussing our plans to switch places on Friday, including a discussion regarding the mundane things to be done like the laundering of Rini’s blankets. I reminded Eric not to leave her quilt unattended since I was paranoid about a repeat of what happened at the hospital in Portland.

After our conversation ended, he went upstairs to the family resource center to do a load of laundry and he stuck around as the clothes were drying to make sure Rini’s quilt remained in our possession. He received a call on his cell, and it was the nurse from the room next to Rini’s telling Eric to come back to Rini’s room right away. He ran, and when he arrived five minutes or so later he saw medical personnel spilling in and out of her room. When he was able to see in, they were doing chest compressions on her.

They were minutes away from beginning the process of placing her on ECMO when the Epinephrine did its job and her heart rate came back. At that point, he called me and I couldn’t understand a word he was saying through his sobs, but later I could understand his words as he choked out, “She’s back.” It was a quick conversation, and I hurriedly began throwing things in my suitcase and calling my dear friends to put in motion the emergency childcare plans that they had helped to set up. 

A bit later, Eric and two of her cardiologists called me, and they told us that they felt it would be a good idea to go ahead and place her on ECMO preemptively. However, over the next hour the decision was made to hold off. Rini has only been on the transplant list for 13 days, and the average wait time in this UNOS region for a child at Status 1A on the transplant list is 3-5 months.

Because she can only survive on ECMO for a few weeks at most (2-3 weeks is about average), we are all very concerned about using up her ECMO time, so to speak. We are basically gambling that we can get her through another hour, day, week, or month before placing her on ECMO. They said the likelihood that she will have another episode is high, and if it occurs again, there will be no question. She will be placed on life support at that point. The crash cart and ECMO machine will permanently reside at the entrance to her room from here on out.” 

My dear friend arrived and I headed to the elementary school to pick up MeiLi, who was seven years old at the time. I did not want to leave for Seattle without having a chance to explain to her, an anxious child, what was happening and why I would be departing for Seattle three days earlier than planned. When I reached the school, a friend came over to me to give me a hug as I cried. Another mom I would characterize as an acquaintance walked over to us. How she had heard about what had transpired, I do not know. But her words, delivered with a confused facial expression and in a quizzical tone were, “Well, you knew this could happen, didn’t you?” That is all she said.

I’ve thought a lot about her question, which was actually a comment in disguise, over the past three years. Many adoptive families of medically fragile children have been blindsided by such a comment. The insinuation is that we who choose children with medical needs or disabilities are somehow not entitled to feel the same despair when our children suffer as those who have the expectation of a “healthy” child.

Choosing to love a child whose future is more statistically uncertain than another child’s does not inoculate us against heartache.

It doesn’t make us superhuman, and it doesn’t make us saints. It just makes us people who chose our kids no matter what diagnosis was attached to them. We love our children and grieve for them as deeply as a parent who is in the midst of a surprise diagnosis. Now to be fair, Eric and I certainly had the benefit of experience which altered our expectations of the road ahead. And also, when one chooses a child who is already in the midst of illness, we do so from a place of hope. I certainly didn’t pray for Sophie to have congenital heart disease when I was pregnant with her, and I recognize that such a diagnosis would have been shocking and very difficult to process. But does that mean that those of us who knew the road would be hard when we first stepped foot on it should not be shown support and compassion?

What I suspect is that the rest of her sentence might have been along the lines of, “Well, you knew this could happen so what are you so upset about?” Perhaps people feel that if they keep emotional distance from those who are in pain, and take the attitude that the sufferer is responsible for that pain because they chose to love a sick child, they can then believe that they can protect themselves from similar heartache. But nobody is immune to pain, to loss, to death. Nothing guarantees a life free from tragedy. Not even God. 

From my journal:

“I picked up MeiLi from school and then arrived home to the sounds of happiness as our little ones played with my friend’s children, and after hugs and kisses and a tough conversation with our eldest, I headed out the door. It was a four-hour drive to Seattle, and I thought, and thought, and thought. I cried and prayed, and cried some more. One thing I can say is that Eric told me tonight that he feels honored to be in this position, to be the dad to this precious child, even with its heartache and anxiety. I couldn’t agree more as her mom.”

It was pouring down rain during most of the drive, and so very dark. It seemed like every song that came on the radio was speaking directly to me, and several times I had to pull off at a rest stop or service station to collect myself. When I arrived at the hospital, I found my beautiful daughter looking much like I had last seen her, except that her chest was now bruised from the compressions. I laid a beautiful crucifix by her side, given to us by a friend.

Eric and I were taken into the Quiet Room by members of Rini’s team, and it was explained to us that another arrest was not an “if” but rather a “when”. The VAD had not arrived yet. I couldn’t bring myself to ask whether they felt Rini would survive to transplant. I just couldn’t. I knew what their answer would be, and I didn’t want to hear it spoken out loud. Hearing it within myself was excruciating enough.

The Reverend Mark Beckwith writes, “My instinct is to seek — and expect — a spiritual firewall from God. And when I don’t get it, I get indignant, and like millions of others, I shake my fist at the heavens and demand to know why this is happening. I end up looking for a God who will provide protection — and miss out on the God who offers support.”

I struggled mightily on this day, three years ago, and in the tumultuous days and months to follow. I watched as parents… wonderful people, lost their children. I saw believers leave the hospital with their child, and others leave without theirs. I saw atheists leave with, and atheists leave without. People of all faiths and people of no particular faith… nobody was insulated. Tragedy appeared to be the great equalizer.

There’s no vaccine for the pain of this world.

Did that crush me? No. Ultimately, it brought me closer to God and liberated me. Before Rini, when I believed that I could somehow control outcomes, that is when I knew fear. As each day passed and I watched my child suffer complication after complication and the end of her life was so close, I came to a beautiful understanding with God. There are as many beliefs about God’s role in the events of life as there are people, and as many interpretations of scripture relating to this topic. But my belief is that He isn’t the cause of suffering, and He isn’t here to prevent me from experiencing devastation and pain. He is here to carry me through it, and to encourage me to leave the world a better place for having experienced it. And ultimately, for Rini to have a chance at life, it would take another family willing to believe in the possibility that beauty could emerge out of their own tragedy.

Goodness gracious.

Look at this little love bug.

Falcon is an adorable one year old little boy, who loves cuddles and hugs. He is sitting up on his and own even learning how to talk.

He smiles easily with people he knows but only stares at strangers. This little guy knows his people… how sweet it would be to be his forever family!

For more information on this tiny treasure please contact Amy at Small World here.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Don’t sweat the small stuff and it’s all small stuff.” I agree that everything is small stuff in light of eternity but – instead of worrying about sweating it – what if we focused on the tiny, everyday, mundane, small things as the most important work we do as moms?

I believe it is the little minutes that build the mighty ages of eternity.

So many ideas have swirled in my mind lately, but the one that settled at the top of my heart was family.

What creates a close family? Wouldn’t you agree with me building a family is a pretty big thing and it might stand to reason, it takes big things to create those bonds?

If I took a poll of everyone who has birthed or adopted children and then asked why, there would be as many answers as people polled, but the understood reason would be to create a family. Parents and children come together to form one of the most important units on the earth and ultimately the reason all life continues on earth.

I’ve been reading a book called Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kiddler, and he writes, “Margaret Mead once said, ‘Never underestimate the ability of a small group of committed individuals to change the world. Indeed, they are the only ones who ever have.”

Doesn’t that describe a family? A small group empowering its members to change the world!

Scott and I are what most people would call ‘older parents’ because our children span the ages of 28 down to 5, two are married, one in college, seven at home, and two beautiful grandsons. We should be empty nesters retired on vacation right about now, but God had such better plans for our family!

Our three older daughters have grown into amazingly beautiful adults, and we are often asked how we raised such well adjusted, kind, and selfless women. We give all the credit to God and His grace in spite of our shortcomings and mistakes. We do have a few ways we want to share how God has used us and continues to in our daily lives as our minutes grow into mighty ages of Eternity.

As I began to think through the ways Scott and I influenced our older daughters and now our seven younger ones we homeschool each day, ten ideas came to mind. Family offers happiness, comfort, belonging, dependence, safety, stability, quality time, affection, reliance, and learning and growth.

1. Fun is Happiness.

There is nothing our children love more than laughing and having fun. One of the ways Scott often lightens the moment is picking me up and swinging me around and around. You can imagine the spark of fun this ignites. All the children come running with delight in hopes they will get a turn too. It really doesn’t take a big trip or gift to bring happiness into a family’s heart. Children need laughter, silliness, and fun for happiness.

2. Create Comfort.

My mom tells the story of the day Scott and I came home from our honeymoon and picked all our shower and wedding gifts. We wanted to get everything to our new home. Back in those days everything was kept at your parents’ house on display so people could stop by and see it all. (Grin.) Mama said as we drove out of their driveway, “I wonder why Sharon needed to get all that stuff in one day.” My dad answered, “Becky, she’s trying to make herself a home.”

Creating family is surrounding ourselves with things we love to create a place of comfort. There is no greater compliment in my opinion than your grown, married, adult children feeling right at home every time they walk in the door! Children of all ages need the comfort home brings.

3. Belonging Blooms at the Table.

One of the greatest needs our waiting children in orphanages longed for was to belong and where better than in a family does that feeling flourish? Bringing a child into a family and working night and day to build a bond is the foundation to belonging. In our family one of the best ways we found to bond was with food in our kitchen gathered around our table.

I never really stopped to think how we’ve always made it a habit to gather around our table for as long as I can remember and how important and necessary it is for belonging. Both Scott and I grew up in families where eating at the table together was a priority. We just continued that tradition without giving it much thought.

Gathering and sharing meals means so much in building family bonds and belonging. Children learn they belong when they are gathered around the table.

4. Chores Foster Dependability.

Family is an important place where we learn dependance and being dependable. Our children learn so much from observing things right in front of them – like the roles of dad and mom. They realize they can depend on dad to go to work and provide for their family. They can depend on mom to prepare good meals each day. There are so many opportunities for the children to practice dependance like helping with chores, reading to a younger sibling, or taking care of pets. All these experiences offer children the chance to see how valuable being dependable means to family success.

In our family everyone has permanent, daily, and weekly chores all of which emphasize the relationship between responsibility and dependance. The Bible teaches in Luke 16:10, “Whoever can be trusted with little can also be trusted with much.” Start with small responsibilities and in time, they will work us right out of our job. Children need responsibility to learn to be dependable.

5. Hugs Breathe Safety.

All children (and adults) need to feel safe. No matter where we lay our heads at night, we feel safer when tucked in close to our family. Just like wrapping up in a snuggly blanket brings a feeling of security, so does the arms of a family.

Wrapping a child or family member in a hug or holding them in your lap is one of the best ways to offer safety. Even my 28, 26, and 22 year olds need to be hugged and feel the safety of their mom and dad’s arms around them. Don’t underestimate the power of touch. We ALL need it! Children learn safety in deeds not words.

6. Gather for Stability.

Home and family are paramount in providing children a place of stability when we live in a world where horrible acts are splashed through media every second of the day, or family members receive the bad news of loved ones with cancer, or a million other bad things we could name.

Scott and I have found to create a feeling of stability, we must keep our days and nights predictable and in a routine. Our children thrive on knowing what to expect and having down time to just be kids. We try very hard not to over schedule every second of their day. We like to have more evenings at home than not, and I know this can be very hard if both parents work, kids are in school, or lots of extracurricular activities are scheduled.

There was a time when Scott and I both worked full time, our children were involved in school, church, and lots of classes (competitive gymnastics) almost every week night and competitions on the weekends. Very busy! So I can speak from experience that there is still hope for stability. We were still vigilant in keeping our family close even when everyone was going in different directions. How?

We picked a time and a place that most of us could be together, even if it was in a parking lot with happy meals. We gathered face to face to talk, eat, and touch base as a family. The gathering provided the stability. I have proof in my three big girls! Children need to feel grounded.

7. Make Moments Count.

Quality is so much more important than quantity. It means making moments count. Make a commitment and follow through with it. For our family, we try to keep Sunday as a day of rest and quality time together. During the last year with Calla being newly home, going to church was not always the best way of spending our family time. It was too much for her. We chose to worship at home, spend time in the pool, or eating around our outside table. In winter, we love roasting hotdogs and s’mores around our family room fireplace. Quality time doesn’t have to be on a grand scale to foster rewards, it just has to be intentional and personal. Children just need us to invest time in their lives.

8. Show Affection.

Scott and I believe it is very important for our children to see us cherishing each other and prioritizing our marriage before them. We try very hard with the help of our older daughters to schedule dates at least once a month. They see us holding each other, praying together, and spending time together after they go to bed.

We intentionally enforce a bedtime of 8:00 and 9:00 to ensure time with each other. We know from experience this changes as they get older but for now, it models affection for our children. We believe we should set the example of what we want to see in them. Children need positive examples of affection before they can give it themselves.

9. Be Reliable in All Things

Being reliable follows us all our lives and practicing it within a family is key. One of the ways we experience this is following through on promises made or statements we make concerning discipline. If you say you are going to do something, just do it. Dads and moms need to rely on each other and that trickles down to the children. Once again, habits and routines in families can offer the reliance we all yearn for. Children need promise keepers.

10. Learning and Growth is the Fabric of Families.

Our family has always spent time learning and growing together. When the big girls were little, we partnered with schools, churches, youth groups, and neighbors for learning and growth. Now we spend our days schooling our younger children at home where learning and growth is the very fabric of our family life. Everything can be a learning experience.

In both situations with the older girls and the younger children, I can wholeheartedly say gathering in the family room or the kitchen sharing conversations, prayers, and open Bibles are the heart of family in learning and growth. Children need to believe they are life long learners.

One day this past summer Rosemary, our youngest Original, made the most insightful statement. “You know mom, you and Dad sure have lived a lot of lives.” I asked what she meant. “Well, you grew up on a dairy farm, went to college and married dad, had us three Originals and two heaven babies while teaching school for 18 years, then adopted the seven littles from China and homeschool, and you’re a grandmother. That’s a lot of lives.” Amazing to hear an adult child’s perception on the flow of family life!

My hope in sharing these ten ideas is to encourage you to believe it doesn’t take grand, expensive, or extravagant measures to make the minutes count. It really comes down to the two recurring themes of gathering and talking. Now is all you get.

Make it Matter!

Those little minutes really do add up to mighty ages.

Did any of the ten ideas speak to you? Can you think of another important way we make the minutes count? Blessings and love to each of your families.

I clearly remember what it was like to write Our Journey to Willow, my first adoption blog post. That story was intricately woven by God for our family, and I was so excited to share everything that led us to adopt a child with Down Syndrome.

Willow has been in our arms for just over six months, and so the story continues. My hope is that this post can do that story justice.

Deciding to Adopt

For us, deciding to adopt took some time. It was something my husband and I both felt strongly about. But taking that final step forward and putting your YES on the table would take everything to another level. I was on board early, but my husband would need more time and prayer to hopefully get there.

I had just come across the most precious face on a Facebook post. I only saw this photo because another mom had shared it on an adoption Facebook group I was in. At this point, I had seen thousands of adorable faces of precious children all needing a family, but this picture shook me to my core.

Her advocacy name was Xiu Xiu.

And she was our Willow.

God had given me the name Willow about six months prior to us finding our daughter. I will never forget that moment that I saw her face on my iPhone screen. Tears instantly filled my eyes, and I knew in my heart that she was Willow, our daughter.

As I read about her, I learned she had Down syndrome, but otherwise appeared to be healthy and thriving in a foster-like home. She was already 2 1/2 and I knew the adoption process took some time. It broke my heart to think we would miss the first three years of her life but I could not focus on that. So many thoughts raced through my head. I was giddy with excitement, and scared at the same time as I tried to picture her in our family.

We have two boys, Aiden (8) and Cooper (6), and a little girl named Libby who was not even two years old at the time. As you can imagine, while my heart felt so sure that she was our daughter, my head was telling me that I was out of my mind for wanting to add to our already crazy mix.

The day I saw Willow’s photo was just two days prior to my husband, Tyler, leaving for a medical mission trip in Zambia. That meant for the next two weeks I had time to just pray about it and be still. Besides the fact that we wouldn’t be able to really dig into this conversation while he was away, his initial response had basically been, “No.”

He hadn’t gotten all the warm fuzzies I did when he first saw her picture. His response was very gentle with me as he shared his concerns but his reaction still kind of swept the wind right out of my sails. We had only recently discussed Down syndrome as special need we would be open to just a short time prior to me finding Willow. Understandably, he just wasn’t ready to wrap his mind around it.

There had been an NHBO post I shared with my husband about a month before he was leaving for Zambia. That post completely brought him to tears. It is actually how the whole discussion of Down syndrome even came up. So it’s another surreal full-circle moment for me to now share our experience on here, and I pray that it encourages as so many NHBO have inspired us.

Finding Willow

This is the part of the story where I’m crying my eyes out as I announce to Tyler, “Hey. I found Willow! I know this is our daughter. By the way, she has Down syndrome,” as he prepares to leave for Zambia. It was torture while he was gone. You know us women like to talk about things a little much, right?

It turned out to be such a blessing he went on that trip, at that time. I had found the picture, but I couldn’t try to discuss it with him every spare second of the day. I was forced to just be still and have faith that it would all work out if it was, in fact, God’s plan.

A few days after Tyler left, I got my first phone call from him in Zambia. He told me all about the travel and how thankful they were to make it. They had just eaten dinner below the most beautiful tree. He described it to me so well, but I thought to myself, Willow trees don’t grow in Africa, it must be a different kind.

Naturally, after our phone call I Googled about native trees in that area that fit his description and to my surprise a gigantic willow tree pops up. I quickly send Tyler a picture of a willow tree in Africa, and ask if this is the tree he was speaking of. His reply was, “Yes. That’s it!” Oh my goodness, I had chills.

One week after Tyler returned home, he presented me with the sweetest card. It said that he knew that Willow was our daughter as well… that as much as he tried to come up with every reason why we shouldn’t say yes, that God had given him 100% peace and clarity to move forward.

As soon as we both said Yes, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off our shoulders. From then on, it was a race through paperwork and preparations, all of which went fairly smoothly for us. Willow was in our arms less than eight months later.

Adding to the Family

I won’t sugarcoat those 7-8 months, there were definitely some tears shed in the process. Trying to explain our decision to family members was terrifying for me. I knew there was no way for someone else who hadn’t walked this journey to truly understand.

My family just wanted to make sure we were making the right choice, but not all the conversations went as I had hoped. No matter how much I poured out my heart, it just didn’t make sense to some people. I had to just accept that, pray about it and have faith once again that it would all be okay.

See, this whole journey is one of Faith. You will encounter many points where you must pick yourself up off the ground and just keep pushing forward, trying your absolute hardest to not let fear sink in because we know that fear is not from God. Believe me, this is something I have yet to master. I am known to overthink and stress about stuff I cannot control.

For us, we knew adding a child with an extra chromosome wouldn’t be a walk in the park. We also knew with every fiber in our beings that it was the right choice for us.

Did we have a lot of experience with Down syndrome prior to this decision? No. We had some but not a lot. However, in our journey, this didn’t feel like a choice we had to make because God had made it so very clear.

Most people didn’t understand why we would choose this, and some still don’t. The skeptics didn’t even necessarily have to say a word, but we could see it on their faces. And I want to be clear that it is okay if they don’t understand. We felt like we had hit the jackpot and were so excited about Willow joining our family. The same excitement we felt as we anticipated the arrival of each of our three biological children.

Willow is about ten months older than our daughter Libby, so she technically isn’t the baby sister. Thankfully, Willow is a petite little thing and totally fits in as the little sister, the way Libby thinks of her to this day. During the paper chase of the adoption process, Libby entered into the dreaded terrible twos phase and wasn’t playing very well with kids her age. I began to panic about how she would get along with her new sister. This was probably one of my top concerns as we prepared for Willow to join our family.

We chose to bring Cooper, just one of our two sons, with us to China. He is our six-year-old and was super excited about coming along. My oldest was perfectly content to stay at home with my mother-in-law. I had decided our littlest was just too young to go so she stayed back with them as well.

In China, our first meeting with Willow was so dreamlike. It felt like the longest day. An eternity where you have every emotion going through your body, so much so that I physically felt sick at times. But Willow walked right into our arms.

I was not emotional like I anticipated myself to be. I was basically in shock, much like I’m sure Willow felt as three strangers scooped her up. We spent a good amount of time with her in her familiar surroundings and then left with her in our arms. She seemed to be handling it all okay and I still could not believe that the sweet little girl in the picture was now sitting on my lap.

Coming Home

Willow didn’t show much emotion at first, but she was just absolutely perfect. Goodness, she melted our hearts each day as we got to know one another. While in China I was pretty emotional. I was super homesick, and I didn’t feel how I imagined I would while we were there. I’m not the best overseas traveler, so this trip took a bit of a toll on me.

My best advice for traveling to China for an adoption, especially if you have never been, is to be prepared for the culture shock and don’t expect there to be this instant indescribable bond between you and the child you are adopting. A deep, deep bond takes time.

Of course, we were absolutely smitten with Willow and she amazed us each and every day. But still, I prayed so very hard about bonding with Willow. And as each day went by, our love grew and grew for one another.

Willow loves us so unconditionally. To this day she teaches us so much about love. Not only did we hit the jackpot with her, but it is like we hit the ultimate “unconditional love” jackpot.

When we arrived back home to Texas, it was awesome, and it was hard at the same time. Seeing everyone at the airport together and our entire family being back together was just what we all longed for. Spending three full weeks in China is a long time. However, this long-awaited homecoming made it all worth it.

The jet lag took a bit of time to conquer, but the real struggle involved Libby. Libby was just not adjusting well to her sister. Not at all.

It was everything I anticipated but harder.

The first few days Libby did okay with Willow being home. But after she realized Willow was not leaving, it didn’t set so well with her. I can’t blame her, she’s just a two-year-old. Her world just got completely rocked and she didn’t understand.

Willow on the other hand was acclimating wonderfully: sleeping through the night, eating well, all of the boxes checked. Her mobility was well-above expectations, and she didn’t get into stuff as much as I imagined she might. I have actually said that she is the easiest of all of four kids in this season we are in right now.

Will Willow always be easy like she is now? No, probably not. We will hit bumps for sure, we fully anticipate them. Willow has all the same emotions of any typical child. She cries, throws fits, gets sad, gets mad… you know the drill.

But 95% of the time she is just a bright ray of sunshine. She is easy to distract, quickly bounces back from something if she gets upset. All in all, our day to day really isn’t any harder because she has Down syndrome.

She doesn’t say many words yet, but it is still easy enough to meet her needs. She uses sign language or just lets us know somehow what it is that she wants. Do I wish she could communicate everything going through her head? Absolutely! I pray one day we will get there.

Willow’s adjustment and bond with all of us is beautiful. It really is. Willow 100% knows who her family is now. She is quick to give a hug or a high five to someone but she always wants to come right back to Mama. Seeing her run to me when I pick her up from church care is the best feeling ever.

Gosh, I love her so, so much. And we all need her just as much as she needs us.

God Bless Sisters

The bond we all have now took a little more time for Libby and Willow. Thankfully Willow would so easily forgive. She loved Libby, even when Libby treated her poorly. I tried so hard to create the perfect environment and scenarios.

Creating activities all the kids could enjoy together like dance parties and outings. But bath time seemed to be the one sure fire thing to bring Libby and Willow closer to each other. So, we did a lot of baths. Day by day, I would see more and more smiles from Libby towards her new sister.

I can’t tell you how amazing it’s been to see such a transformation before my eyes. In the first few months after Willow came home, I was so discouraged. I was so tired of playing constant referee. I felt like this battle of little people was taking away from all of our relationships. But friends, in the grand scheme of things, a few months was all it took.

Now these two girls are inseparable.

Willow is 100% her baby sister (regardless of age) and their relationship blooms more each day. Yes, they are still sisters and they fight about certain toys or who mommy is holding. But it is such a complete 360 from the time they first met each other.

Part of the Family

My boys and Willow have a special bond too. Taking Cooper with us to China was the perfect choice for our family and definitely helped Willow warm up to us all faster. The boys are both so good at making her laugh, and she is not scared to try anything they are doing. She even climbs up the ten foot rock climbing wall in our backyard, as I hold my breath each time. I know that having typical siblings will be the best form of therapy as she grows and thrives in her new home.

Willow is just so capable, smart and beautiful from the inside out. She makes all of our lives better. She is the first child to run to her sibling’s side if they are sad or hurt. She loves so big and, without even realizing it, teaches my kids what unconditional love is. This is still new to us, as Willow has only been in our arms for six months, but the Down syndrome adoption community has been so warm and encouraging throughout this process. I don’t have the words to explain to you the impact it has made on all of our lives.

Our friends and family have all come to know and love Willow too. It’s just amazing to see how far she has already come since being in her forever family. It’s indescribable what the love of a family does for a child. And it’s just as hard to explain how much Willow has blessed all of us.

Know that we are not the heroes in this. When people want to praise us for adopting a child with Down syndrome, I tell them Willow is so worthy and perfect, just as God made her to be.

We are just an average family that falls short each day. We don’t have it all together. We just want the world to see how awesome individuals are with Down syndrome. The world is truly a better place because of them.

We are Willow’s biggest fans, and we will shout her worth every single day.

God crafted every detail of our adoption journey. Not me, not Tyler, but God wrote this story before Willow was even born.

I’m just so thankful we didn’t let our fears and concerns get in the way of saying Yes!

– guest post by Brooke: email || blog

Oh my. Miss Hattie, you are just beautiful.

This little love just turned two and is absolutely precious.

She is already cruising around furniture preparing herself to walk. She can build a tower with blocks.

Hattie can take her clothes off by herself (!) and enjoys looking at books and patting the picture. When this little princess is sleeping she likes to suck her thumb.

Hattie has Down Syndrome but her true special need is that she needs a forever family.

For more information about Hattie please contact Andrea at Small World Adoption here.

If you’re the parent to a child born in a different country, you may have some of the same thoughts I have regarding keeping your child in touch with their birth culture. My daughter was born in China, and though she did not experience much of her own birth culture as a small child, I want her to learn about and know about where she came from. I want her to be proud of the country that was her first home, and I want her to feel confident in who she is; a Chinese girl in an American family.

Yes, she is American but she’s also Chinese. She wants to be both, and I want both for her. I have the desire for my daughter to love her birth culture, and for her to know that as her family we care about the things she cares about. One of the ways we do this is by celebrating Chinese holidays.

I keep track of the biggest of the Chinese holidays, and try to incorporate them into our family life. Lunar New Year (Chinese New Year) is the biggest, and we have our house decorated with a few things purchased from online resources like www.chinasprout.com, but generally I forget to order things far enough in advance because LIFE HAPPENS, yes? Another big holiday in China is Mid-Autumn Festival, and I love this one. Maybe it’s because it occurs during the time of year when the weather finally starts to cool off a little. Maybe it’s the fat yellow moon that hangs in the sky. I can’t say for sure what I love about it, but I can say what is challenging about it – it frequently falls in the middle of the week, and in America, we don’t have time off from school and/or work to celebrate in what I consider to be a truly authentic way.

And the question becomes…

How exactly does one celebrate a big holiday in an effort to incorporate their child’s birth culture?
How does one do justice to a holiday when you live in a location where the Asian markets are few and far between, or maybe don’t exist at all?
How do you celebrate when your cooking skills are not up to par, and your family schedule looks more like piano lessons, followed by dance lessons, followed by football practice on the day of the holiday?

There is a solution, and it’s an easy one. Be authentic in your heart.

Here’s what I mean. I may not have authentic moon cakes this week to celebrate, but we will have things that are round like the moon, which is why moon cakes are round to begin with! We will bake chocolate chip cookies, we will eat roly-poly potatoes. We will make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on little sandwich rounds instead of the normal loaf of bread we use. We might even make a special pancake breakfast, or hey, doughnuts are round! We may not have authentic lanterns at our house, but we do have balloons! We may not have authentic homemade fish or noodles, but we do have a quite lovely Pei Wei just a few miles away. Is it uber-authentic? Nah, not really, but the heart behind it all is very real.

We read the two books we have about Mid-Autumn Festival. One of them is titled Round is a Moon Cake, which is a book about shapes. We giggle and talk about how we eat round foods, too, even if we cannot eat the traditional moon cakes the book talks about. We thank God for making the moon to reflect the sun and shine in the night. We sit around the table and enjoy each other’s company. This year I bought the little pumpkins at the grocery stores that my kiddos are going to have fun decorating; just a fun “round” activity that gets us to be together as a family.

Fun. Family. Togetherness. These are the only things you really need.

Sometimes? Sometimes our celebrating doesn’t even happen on the exact day of the holiday. Last year we celebrated a few days later once the weekend had arrived and we could really relax and have fun with it all. My gauge of authenticity has become how much my daughter’s face glows when she recognizes that we are doing something together, something that is a part of our family because she is a part of our family. Yeah, I’d really love to be able to make the homemade dumplings, but what my girl needs is just to know that we love China, because in loving China, we love her.

So, you know? If all you can manage this year for Mid-Autumn Festival is running to the doughnut shop for doughnut holes this weekend before your job as the Soccer Mom or Football Coach starts up, then so be it. Take the time to let your precious one born in China know that the reason behind the sweet treat on that particular day is to celebrate them, to celebrate who they are, and where they came from. You’ll see the glow in their face when you do, and you’ll what I now know. You’ll know that authenticity comes from the heart whether it’s a chocolate chip cookie or a moon cake. You’ll know that it’s not how well you celebrate, but that you chose to be intentional about letting your child know that the country that gave them life is valued by you.

And you know what? If you’re together, if you’re having fun, if your family knows how much you love them, well then, you’ve celebrated authentically.

Happy Mid-Autumn Festival! May it be authentic, no matter what it looks like.

For as long as humans have inhabited the earth (I assume), the moon has been a source of wonder and mystery. I imagine my ancestors staring up at the same moon, hundreds and even thousands of years ago in China.

This year, the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival falls on October 4, within the National holiday for the Chinese. It is a semi-sacred time for families to come together to share food, customs, and good company. Common customs during the festival include eating moon cakes, making and lighting lanterns, and telling legends and stories that tell of the moon and her beauty.

During our time in China this past year, my husband and I were introduced to this special celebration in a new way.

Growing up, my adoptive parents incorporated Chinese culture and tradition into our lives in many ways. We attended a Chinese language and culture school on the weekends, read and watched educational books and movies, and spent time with other Chinese adoptive families who were doing the same things.

On the night of the festival, my husband and I ventured out into the streets and all was quiet. There were less people about than usual, less noise, fewer lights, and I was sorely disappointed. This can’t be the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival in China!

But the focus of the holiday is family.

As it turned out, we were invited by some friends for a cook out underneath the moon and we celebrated the Mid-Autumn Moon festival in this way.

This year is different. I’m expecting our first child and she too will be Chinese. I want her to participate in all of the customs; eating moon cakes, listening to stories, and making lanterns. Most of all, I want her to remember that the focus was always on our family, being together.

Although she’s not yet born, I want to start now.

And this Mid-Autumn Moon festival is the perfect opportunity.

It just so happens that the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival falls on another important day for our family, the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, a man who also marveled at the moon. “Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you have made them, precious and beautiful.”

My husband and I met at Franciscan University of Steubenville where the tradition of St. Francis is carried out and his life is honored for the ways in which he loved God. Our daughter will be named, in part, after St. Clare of Assisi, one of St. Francis’ contemporaries and closest friends in Christ.

Such a convenient coincidence that the celebrations of two very different cultures can be united in our funny little family! Each family has its own culture, unique in its own right.

Learning about Chinese culture and wanting to incorporate it into the lives of our children is ultimately about building family culture, the most important thing of all.

Molly Schmiesing was adopted from Wuhan, China when she was 9 months old by an American couple from Cleveland, Ohio. After living in Beijing with her husband Michael, they are now back in the States and expecting their first child. You can read more on her blog, Finding China.

This little sweetie is Mason. Mason was born in December of 2014. He is described by his nannies as cute and compliant. They also say he is “so smart”. His language development is very good. He can follow instructions well. Also, he has a good vocabulary and knows lots of words such as “auntie, good, and no.” He knows the names of all of his body parts too. All of Mason’s teachers think he is great. They say that the only difficulty they have with him is in getting him to sit quietly during class…which is pretty typical for a two and a half year old boy. So, they often let him play during instruction. Mason is active and “all boy.” His coordination is good and he loves climbing, swinging and riding the wooden rocking horse. His favorite toy is cars. He likes to “drive” them along the table, floor and walls. Sometimes the teacher will take him to the playground after class, before nap time. Mason likes that very much. He runs happily on the playground.

An ultrasound of Mason’s heart that was done when he was 8 months old showed a VSD. A second ultrasound done when he was 15 months old suggested PFO. However, the most recent ultrasound done at 2 years and 6 months old showed no abnormality. Mason also has a diagnosis of b-thalassemia. He must have blood transfusions monthly. Mason is such a strong and brave little boy. When he sees the nurse coming to draw his blood he stretches his arm out and does not cry. All of the staff admire him for his bravery.

This sweet little boy is something special. He will be such a blessing to his forever family. To view videos of Mason go here and here.

If you would like to review Mason’s file, please complete AAC’s eligibility application. Please make sure to mention her name in the appropriate section of the form. If you have any questions, please contact Nicole by email or by phone at 970-775-4683. You can also contact AAC’s Waiting Child Advocate.

It’s Mid-Autumn Moon Festival in the land where you were born, Alea, and one thought keeps running through my head: My favorite moons are the perfect crescents your eyes make when you are happy and your face crinkles with joy. You are beautiful, child, inside and out — pure light, like the fullest of moons on the darkest of nights. When I see you, with your raven-black hair and porcelain skin and moon-shaped eyes, I see perfection.

But I can’t make you see that. And suddenly what you seem to notice more than anything is your difference. In a room full of Chinese people yesterday, you made it clear you didn’t think you were one of them, and my heart shattered into a million little pieces.

Have I failed to explain that your Chinese DNA is part of what makes you precious to me?
That I see a reflection of my heart in the gentle moon of your eyes?
We really do look like one another, darling… how do I help you see the truth of yourself?
To see your beauty?

It’s tricky, this road we are all on. Yesterday Cora’s friend made a passing comment in innocence — not cruelty — but it still stung: “She’s not your real sister,” the girl said, her own experience based on a stair-step of little brothers who mirror her own face right down to their tussled blonde hair and sweet curved noses. When we got home, Cora said it made her feel angry and sad to hear that, and she didn’t know what to say. And I realized it isn’t the first time she’s experienced this sort of thing; just the first time I’ve found out.

We talked about what makes a sister real and how some people don’t understand because they’ve only known one way of becoming a family. But it still hurts, I know; and hurt so often slips to shame…

Cora, when we signed you up to have a sister of a different race, it meant you were thrown into new and unusual situations for which there isn’t a clear playbook. My brave and tender-hearted girl, how do I help you learn how to play this game with dignity, compassion, and confidence?

It turns out four years old is old enough to notice you don’t match your family and six years old is old enough to understand that what happens before an adoption isn’t usually beautiful and happy, and what happens in its aftermath isn’t always either. It turns out four and six year olds can weep with sorrow at injustice and brokenness and ache to belong. And a mama can feel turned inside out.

This is when it all gets messy, my girls, and I don’t feel strong enough or wise enough for this journey we’re on together. There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know how to help either of you navigate the road ahead.

Alea, I don’t know how to make you feel proud of the curve of your eyes, the shape of your nose, the hue of your hair. I confess I wonder if, as a white woman, I have what it takes to raise a confident, comfortable-in-her-skin Asian woman.

And Cora, I don’t have the answers to your questions about why Jesus allows babies to be broken apart from their first mamas; why they are sometimes left in “boxes in the rain” as you say you saw on a TV show once.

“And since I know adoption is real, Mama, I know that must be real, too,” you sobbed as the rain pounded against the bedroom window.

“Was Alea left in the rain, Mama? Was she?!? It’s scary!”

Your voice cracked in half, equal parts terror and sorrow, and I couldn’t hold back the tears myself… both because it hurts to watch your innocent heart get split plumb open, and because I don’t know the answer.

And it feels like, as your Mama, I ought to know more about that day. Though it makes no sense to say, it feels like I ought to have been there on that day. I want to tell both of you that everything’s going to be ok, but the story of our lives coming together means you both already realize sometimes it isn’t.

I can’t be there in all the broken moments. Cora, I can’t be by your side to speak up every time someone calls the legitimacy of your relationship with your sister into question or mocks her for the ways in which she is different. Alea, I can’t be with you to help you hold your head high the first time a child stretches her eyes thin on a playground and laughs in your face. I can’t protect you from the sting of racism.

I know every mother wants to shield her children from pain and sorrow, and every mother must reckon with the reality that she cannot. I’m no different.

Here’s all I have to give you… When the Autumn moon is high and round, it’s a time to reconnect with family and celebrate connection. And this family of ours? It’s as “real” as real can get. It is messy and sometimes we have tears in our eyes and broken pieces in our hands, but we are a family.

We are patchwork and once-broken-but-now-glued-together vases, and it’s beautiful in its own way. Perhaps we don’t fit very well… we aren’t quite “traditional white American,” and we certainly don’t pass for Chinese, and so I think we all have to get comfortable with always being just a little different. But we are in it together, and that’s all I know to give you. In the end though, I also think it’s the only thing that really carries any of us through. This togetherness, with-ness bearing witness in the middle of the mess.

So for Mid-Autumn festival, we made mooncakes. Not in the traditional way, because I neither have the skill nor the taste for them. But we made them in a way that reflects our family hodgepodge. Thanks to a tip from another adoptive mom, we made shortbread; a western cookie pressed and formed into beautiful Chinese molds… a little bit of two different worlds but still perfectly us.

And Alea, I want you to know we don’t do this because I think you need to absorb a different legacy from the rest of us. Of course, I want you to treasure and understand the history and culture of the land woven into your blood. But that’s not why I do this. If it’s in your blood, it’s in my own, and we do this because this is now our family legacy. It’s part of the story of us, and we celebrate not for your sake but for all of our sakes. This is the shape of our family now, and I believe that deserves remembering and celebrating and honoring.

This life is messy, my girls. When you’re figuring out the shape of yourself, you’ll end up with plenty of flour on your hands and in your hair, and sometimes you’ll feel fragile and not quite ready for the world yet. Sometimes your wing might get bent or a piece might get broken. In their rush to make you fit a mold, someone might crush a little part of you.

But come on home when that happens. It’s safe here, and you’ll always belong. I’ll do my best to help you mend. I know a thing or two about taking broken pieces and gluing them back together to make a family. I know a thing or two about finding beauty in scars and strength in the once-fractured places. I believe we can be stronger in the mended places and more beautiful for having been broken.

We may not look like the other families around us; it may not feel like you fit the mold very well and it hurts to be on the outside, I know. But we are in this together, and this family of ours is exactly the shape God intended us to be when He put the broken pieces back together, and that’s as real as real can be.

We will find our way together in the darkness, under the light of an enormously bright Mid-Autumn Moon.

(And if nothing else, we can always make cookies.)

Malik is a very smart, lovable, and handsome six-year-old boy. Malik is bright, engaging and has the sweetest smile. He has been attending pre-school and loves to share what he knows… his colors and shapes and likes to count too.

Malik’s official diagnosis is hypospadias, urethroplasty, cryptorchidism, right testis resection, and left testicular descent post-operative. He has had some struggles with some kidney issues, but it sure hasn’t stopped this cutie pie from smiling.

We’ve watched Malik grow up in pictures, precious at every single stage…

Could that family be yours?

New videos of Malik can be found here and here – password for both is Adoptmaa.

Update from September 2017:

1. How is his mental ability compared to peers the same age?
His mental ability is quite good.

2. How does the special need affect his health?
He cannot eat or drink fluid food.

3. Is he potty trained?
Yes.

4. Is he well behaved and obedient?
He is well behaved and obedient.

5. How are his gross motor skills? Can he walk, run, jump, walk upstairs and downstairs by himself? Can he kick a ball? Can he pick up a ball? Any limited functions?
He can run and jump. He needs both hands to hold the rail when going downstairs, one hand to go upstairs.

6. How are his fine motor skills? Can he draw or scribble on paper? Can he pick up little things with his fingers?
Good, no limitations.

7. Is he in any kind of school? If so, what school? Can he catch up in school?
He is in the elementary school inside the orphanage on the first grade. For his special need, he needs to go to hospital for blood dialysis every Tuesday and Thursday which will affect his study, but teachers say he is smart. When he is back, they just explain to him a little and he will understand it.

8. How is his emotional development? Is the child attached to anyone? Who is he close to? Does he care for other people?
He gets along well with the all caretakers in his group but attached to a particular one.

9.How are his social skills? Does he get along well with other children and adults?
Good, he gets along well with others. His good friend is Feng Mao Fan.

10. Is he under foster care or living in the orphanage?
In the orphanage.

11. Updated sizes?
Weight 20 kg, height 108 cm, head 51.5cm, chest 57 cm.

12. How is the language ability of the child? What can he say? Can he speak one word, two words or sentences ? Can he express his needs well? Is his language ability the same as peers the same age?
Good, he can express his needs clearly and communicate with people well.

13. Can the child follow directions of adults? One step, two steps, or three steps?
He can follow directions.

14. Anything else you think the family should know about the child?
*More medical records included in his update and are available for interested families!

15. Is the child on any medication?
Valsartan dispersible tablets, rosacea, zinc gluconate, compound alpha-keto tablets, and protein succinate oral solution.

16. What is the daily schedule of the child?
6:00am get up and breakfast，8:00 bath，8:30-11:00 go to school，11:30-13:30nap，14:00-16:00go to school。16:30 dinner，17:00-19:00activities，20:00 go to bed

17. What does the child eat? Can he feed himself? Does the child eat with chopsticks, spoon, or bottle?
Rice and vegetables. He can use spoon to feed himself and drink water with a cup.

18. Does the child know any English?
No. He has just had two English classes.

19. Does the child want to be adopted? Does the child understand what adoption means?
Yes. He understands it as having parents.

20. What color does the child like?
Red.

21. What activity does the child like to do?
Watch cartoon and singing.

22. What is the favorite toy of the child?
Legos.

There is a $2,000 agency grant for Malik’s adoption with Madison Adoption Associates. Other grants may be available based on the adoptive family’s circumstances. Agency grants are awarded as agency fee reductions. MAA also partners with the Brittany’s Hope Foundation for matching grants, which are given out twice a year (January and July) and to families that are officially matched with a child.

If you are interested in reviewing Malik’s file or in adopting Malik, please fill out a free PAP Waiting Child Review Form, which can be found here.

Five years ago, on October 6th, we welcomed our daughter Wren into the world. With Wren being our second child, we felt pretty confident that we were prepared for all that adding another child into our little family would bring. What we were not prepared for was learning shortly after Wren’s birth that she has Down syndrome.

We had no family history of genetic disorders, no prenatal diagnosis or suspicions, no experience with individuals with special needs, and to be honest… no idea what Down syndrome really was. To say we felt under-qualified to handle a diagnosis of this magnitude is an understatement. But looking at our beautiful baby girl, who had her daddy’s eyes and her big sister’s spunk, we didn’t see a diagnosis… we saw our daughter.

Down syndrome was intimidating.

But Wren was not.

Those first few months were a bit of a whirlwind learning to navigate through a new world of specialists, therapy centers, medical bills, and early intervention therapists coming into our home. All of the new extras in our life (doctor appointments, therapy, chromosomes 😊) quickly became part of our new normal and really enhanced our life more than we could have ever imagined.

Yes, Wren had to work ten times harder than her neuro-typical peers to meet physical and developmental milestones, but that also made every small success that much sweeter. We worked as a team to help Wren meet every new goal set and as a family we celebrated every small victory. I mean, boy, did we learn to celebrate!

We also learned that with determination and hard work we can accomplish anything together. Our motto coming out of that first year was, “No Limits”. We learned that there are no limits to what Wren can do, no limits to what we can accomplish as a family, and there are no limits to the plans God has for our family.

Fast forward a few years and we began to feel God calling our family to adopt. At this point we had three biological children, Willow, Wren, and Pippa. As we began to dive into the adoption process, we knew with 100% certainty that we wanted to adopt a child with Down syndrome. To know, love, support, and be loved by an individual with Down syndrome is an amazing honor – and to be able to be the parent of a child with Down syndrome is a blessing we would choose a million times over. So we did our research, prayed like crazy, and said a big fat scary Yes to adoption!

Adopting a child with Down syndrome was about the only thing we felt certain of. We had no idea what country we would adopt from or where on earth we would find the money, but we pushed forward and trusted God with all the unknowns.

Eventually, through lots of research and prayer, our hearts settled on adopting from Asia. We initially started in the Hong Kong program, but after a nudge from a dear friend and a post on social media about a little boy with Down syndrome awaiting heart surgery, we moved to the China program.

Through a crazy series of events that can only be described as God (you guys know what I mean, right!?!) we ended up with the file of that precious little one we saw on social media, the one whose face had pierced my heart. His file was basically a compilation of really scary medical records (complicated heart defect, open heart surgery, more surgeries to come, Down syndrome) on and on it read.

This precious little one, just 2 years old, with all of his brave, had already spent so much time in a hospital. It was hard to read through his file, much less have to imagine a child living through it. I can remember desperately searching for the good stuff. My heart knew that first and foremost this was a child! I wanted to know who this little fighter was and not let the medical stuff cast a shadow on his worth.

After reading through what had to have been 100 pages, there, at the very bottom of the last page, I saw these words and they were forever written on my heart… “He is quiet and lovely.” It was on that day that we named our son Fox. We said a big Yes to all of the scary medical unknowns because Fox was more than a medical condition and he was more than Down syndrome, he was our son. He was wanted, worthy, and loved.

From the moment we said yes we fought like crazy to bring Fox home and at every turn we saw God’s faithfulness shine. We traveled in November 2016 to bring Fox home to his forever family, and let me tell you, he is lovely!

I share all of this because I want you to know that God’s plan for our lives is far more creative and spectacular than we are capable of imagining. If you had told me five years ago, in that NICU hospital room when we received Wren’s diagnosis of Down syndrome, that we would someday cross an ocean and choose Down syndrome all over again, well quite honestly, I would have told you that you were crazy.

As it turns out, our God is crazy. Crazy awesome. Crazy faithful. And crazy good.

– guest post by Mollie: instagram (personal) || instagram (More Alike Than Different)

Since our inception in 2008, No Hands But Ours has relied on the shared stories of regular moms and dads as our foundational way to encourage, inform and support those in the adoption world – in any phase of the adoption process. And since our first post, the list of regular contributors has changed, well… fairly regularly.

Each time we dig into the archives we are struck at how much good stuff is back there – buried under more good stuff, and topped with even more.

So what to do? We can’t just leave all those posts unearthed.

We decided to begin a series in which we go find our past contributors and ask them to come back for a throwback post. Where they share an update on themselves, their family, and reminisce on a few of their favorite NHBO posts.

Ready? Us too.

In 2008 I stepped foot in my first orphanage. I was blessed to enter many more orphanages via adoption, photography and service in the years to come. And now we find ourselves a decade alter in 2017, and the number of children our family has doubled. So many many things have changed. I though a little update might be in order.

Our parenting journey started way back in 1993 with the birth of our first child, Sunny… complete with big 90’s hair and matching chambray shirts. I had wanted to be a mama for as long as I could remember and I had wanted to adopt child for as long as I could remember too.

But we didn’t start our adoption journey in 2006, when Sunny, was just 13 years old and already had 3 siblings. Sunny is a woman now, on her own and living independently in New Mexico, going to school full time and working saving lives and all. Actually we have 3 bonafide adult children now, but still each my baby. 7 of our 8 kiddos (all except Sunny) still live at home. Livy, now 21, is following in Sunny’s footsteps in nursing school, a job she was born to do, and The Man Child, 18, graduated from high school last spring and is attending community college. He really seems to be doing well there. As the kiddos get older you do see less of them on the blog. Their privacy becomes paramount, because after all this blog was never their idea.

I gotta say, this season when your children turn from child to adult, both legally and more important the gradual change that happened in their souls, is amazing. And frustrating too. And heart breaking. And the most rewarding thing ever. Even as kids grow older, some things in parenting never change. The stakes just get higher. I’ve loved the celebrations that we shared with our big kids even more because of the challenges we’ve gone through. Life is sweet that way, the flowers from the ashes.

Boo, the youngest of our bio kids, just turned 15 year old and really isn’t a big kid yet but not a little one either. He was just a baby when we started our adoption journey, and started high school this year. He’s the consummate middle child. I often wonder what he would have been like had we never adopted, and he had remain the youngest child. I know he’s seen a lot over the last decade. He is definitely a product of his environment, and I know it’s molded the man he’s growing into. He’s quiet. He doesn’t like to rock the boat, but he’s rockin’ life. He’s a great student and couldn’t wait to turn 15 so he could get his first job. Needless to say, I kinda like him a little big bit. On a side note, when Ru found out about this, he quickly decided he was getting a job to to earn his own money. He was a little shocked he needed to be older to do so.

One thing I can say for sure is that in addition to Boo, adoption has affected us all including our bio kiddos who were 14, 11, 9 and 5 when our first adopted kiddos came home. I naively wondered if adoption would change the our bio kids. And it did, in very big ways. For the better! Yes there’s more chaos and problems to solve. More challenges all the way around. But I really think our kids are just more compassionate and more able to see the big picture compared to their peers.

Some of our kids want to adopt when they have their own families, and some definitely do not. However they do it, I know they will all make their own impact on the world in the ways they are led, and I can’t help but think that adoption is a part of the reason for this.

Did you know we started our adoption journey via foster care? In 2006 a friend of a friend of a relative (whose hair dresser’s dermatologist, met a guy at her high school reunion, whose sister-in-law’s best friend…) needed some help, a place for her son to stay while she tried to get on her feet, all the while trying to avoid Child Protective Services.

We prayed and decided God was calling us to do more than parent our already-busy brood of 4 children. We started down the foster road path in 2006, but sadly the taste the episode left was so bitter – and frankly left us jaded. Enter international adoption.

But they were babies! How can that be? They were so young!

But no.
Still.
The trauma. It’s real. Even for babies.
Counselors. Mine and theirs.
Grief.

It took about three years and almost incessant conversations, prayers and negotiations between me and God for me to find a way our of a very dark place. Eventually we did find our new normal, but I realized that I had been changed in the process and molded into a new and a very different me. My view of the world changed. My priorities changed. My friends changed. I could see my faults, wounds and shortcomings more clearly. I learned how to forgive myself and others more easily. I counted my blessings more often. I let of a lot stuff go that I used to think was important.

I feel like I’ve learned what’s really important in this last decade, and maybe even more importantly what’s not. I feel like my priorities shifted from vacations, home remodels and new cars to date nights with my husband, reading a book with my children, holding a little hand in my own, passing it all on our children, and learning how I do it better, to be a better me and help those I love and the world around me.

Sometimes I mourn the loss of old me, the one that had free time to gossip and agonize over which vacation to go on next. And yet I am so ridiculously grateful to not be her anymore. Tess and Jude, the precipitous for the change, just turned 10 years old, and I’m still flabbergasted (not really) how God knitted them together into our not-twins and then grafted them to us. They are exact opposites and simultaneously each other’s best friend.

Keeping it real, I had a the mother of all temper tantrums in 2011. It wasn’t pretty. Papa and I laugh (kinda) about it now. I was certain God was calling us to adopt again, and Papa… well… not so much. The turn in the economy wasn’t kind to us. That’s an understatement. What if I could find a way to fund the adoption myself? And Ordinary Miracles Photography was born. If you took a photography class from me anytime prior to May 2017, you helped pay for our last two adoptions, and for that I thank you so so very much! This forever family couldn’t have paid for these children to come home to us without you!

We knowingly jumped into the unknown with Mimi’s adoption, and in accordance with the doctors that reviewed her file we prepared for cerebral palsy and/or brain damage among other things. Mimi is 100% healthy and a “typical” child. She always has been. We’re not sure why her file was obviously mislabeled, and I’ve called out a couple key people about it, (like the orphanage director and our agency) but we have our theories. I think the answers to this may matter to Mimi someday. And maybe not. All that to say that Mimi’s adoption was very unusual in regards to special needs.

Around 2014 we all started to talk that we thought a boy missing from our crazy family, an older boy. We jumped back into foster care, and despite how it ended, part of my heart still remains with the broken foster care system and the children in its care. I still can’t fully accept how we couldn’t make it work for us. We told anyone and everyone in the system that we were looking for our next child, a boy, and not a baby. We had several amazing children come and go through our doors, and I cried the big huge ugly cry as each one of them left, even the more challenging ones.

Ultimately we gave it two years and unhappily closed our foster license, again bitter due to the complete ineptness and disfunction of the system. I commend and weep for the wonderful families that give their all to be foster parents, especially in Arizona. I wish I had it in me. I don’t. We looked all over Arizona for so so long for our son but he just wasn’t there.

So in 2016 back to China our hearts went, knowing full well that there were so so many older boys that desperately needed a family to give them their forever. And we needed him too!

We first saw Ru’s photo in the fall of 2016, and last April he finally came home to his very own forever with us. Again this was a special needs adoption, (Ru has a life-long vascular disorder) and again it wasn’t easy. And now I say with a better understanding, that older child adoption really ain’t for sissies! Until you’re in the throes of tantrums and unwrapping seven years of institutionalization, you really don’t know what you’re missing!

With six months behind us, I think we l can say now that we totally lucked out with Ru. He is simply amazing. He wants this family, and he wants to be obedient and fit it. He works so hard for it all, and his resiliency, the same resiliency that helped him get through surgery after surgery in China until his forever family could come for him, is strong and abundant!

We’re currently working with a team of doctors to figure out a plan for Ru’s medical needs, and in hind sight I wish I could tell ten-year-ago me how little the medical needs of all our children (both our bio and adopted kiddos, because the bio kiddos have had thrown some doozies at us too!) affect us so little, especially when compared to trauma and attachment.

For the most part, if you’ve been reading about what goes on here, you know I’m a pretty open book. I believe that honesty and truth make both of us better. But I will tell you that there were failed adoptions in the in between times that I was just too devastated to tell you about. There were times that I was certain that I broke my family, and we’d never recover. There were times (are times) that I was positive I had completely failed as a parent, and my child would never reach their potential because of it. All of us are far from perfect and have made both small and big mistakes, sometimes really big mistakes. Marriage and parenting is hard under “normal” circumstances. I’ve personally learned the reality of what a panic attack feels like. It’s easy to put the good and happy stuff on a Christmas card, or Facebook… or a blog.

But the hard stuff is hard, and not everything can or should be shared with on the www. For that I’m sorry, that you get an incomplete picture of the crazy, wonderful mess that I have shared with you over the years, the one that’s slanted to the good and the beautiful. Thankfully we’ve also had more than our fair share of good and beautiful moments too, and funny joyous, successful and the oh-dear-God-we-made-it-though-that moments too! Those are the cherished moments that I savor when the rubber meets the road.

And then I blinked, and 10 years flew by.

I’m getting wrinkles and more grey hair than I want. My children are growing and several have already grown up. Our blog, which started out as Ordinary Miracles & the Crazy 8, morphed into the the Crazy 9 and ultimately Ordinary Miracles & the Crazy 10. More children have been grafted into our family in the last decade, yet it all seems like yesterday.

We’ve tied up the score with four girls and four boys so we’re pretty sure that we’re done growing our family. For all of you that have read over the years, I want to be very intentional with thanking you for being my online family and friends. I honest to goodness mean that. I’ve been honored to meet many of you in person, and even if I haven’t I’ve made so many friends from all over the world in those 1,498 posts, and counting.

Thank you to those of you that reached out and commiserated with me when times were tough, and there have been many. Thank you to the people that said You’re not alone. Thank you for telling me that maybe I inspired you to try something new and amazing. Thank you to those that donated to my service trips to Chinese and Viet orphanages. Thank you to those of you that supported us financially by taking a photography class, or two, or more. Thank you for your advice when I’ve asked for it on everything from slow cookers, to deodorant to surviving teenage drivers. Thank you for your prayers through it all. We needed them.

There’s still so much more to come, and at least for now I have no intention of stopping this crazy blog. I’m not sure where we’ll be a decade from now in 2027, but I know He has amazing things in store for us likely with quite a few more bumps in the road along the way.

Here are a few of my favorite NHBO posts that remind me of how far we’ve come in the last 10 years!

A tiny bit about me and my own battle with loss.

When we took Mimi back to a visit at her orphanage.

Another letter of reflection.

What adoption feels like from a child‘s perspective.

And a note I wish I could give the strangers.

One of the many unexpected surprises that came along with adopting three children from China has been my new love for Chinese culture – and an absolute adoration for Asian markets!

If you know me on Facebook, you know my best friend and I (also a China mom) have been known to do a Facebook live from our favorite Asian market. I get asked all the time what I get for my kids when we visit the sometimes overwhelming wonderfulness that is the Asian market and I have taken a few friends along for the ride on our adventures there – and now I am sharing with you!

Where to start. Well, I have to say that I am already very lucky to live close to several amazing Asian markets. We live near Atlanta and have several options… one even has a amazing food court with the most authentic Chinese food I have had since my time in China. If you’re close, message me and we can meet there and chat over a bowl of hand carved noodles! Yummy!

So if you find yourself venturing in an Asian market, first of all: don’t be intimidated. If you have been to China already, the smells, sounds and atmosphere will immediately bring you back to the Chinese markets you visited on your adoption trip. If you have yet to travel – get ready. This is a great way to introduce yourself to some of the culture and food you will find on your journey!

Oh the greens! I love the greens! There are like 10 varieties of bok choy alone. I purchase the “baby bok choy.” It’s tender and yummy and you can throw it in ramen, noodle bowls, sauté in a stir fry… the possibilities are endless. Usually the price of produce is a lot more reasonable at Asian markets too! Love!

Oh the dreaded shrimp chip. These stinky chips are my kids favorites – they taste and smell like you can imagine… fishy. And give your kid stinky shrimp breath. But we get them cause the China babies love them.

This is in the “spring roll” wrapper aisle of our market, pretty crazy. All kinds of wrappers. We just get a traditional one and call it a day. They do have some ones with sesame seeds in them that I plan on trying in the future.

Don’t let the sauce aisle overwhelm you! Grab a sauce and try it!

Here are some of my favorites:

Chili – For spring rolls and egg rolls, sweet and a little spice. So so good.
Sesame Oil – Great for cooking, sauté anything to give it a good Asian flavor.
Chili Sauce – Super spicy and a good dollop on your noodle bowl or rice kicks it up.
Five Spice Powder – I just got this one and it is yummy! For chicken, beef and pork recipes.
Fish Sauce – Sooo stinky but I found it just creates a depth of Asian flavor to recipes when you use it. Don’t be scared of the fish sauce.
Soy Sauce – A must for Chinese cooking. There are like 100 varieties at our market. I just get one in my price range and call it a day, no biggie.
Liquid Aminos – Okay, I put this one in there for the “gluten free” folks as this is a wonderful alternative to soy sauce. It tastes the same to me and it’s good for you! Win win.
Rice Vinegar – Another must in Asian cooking; on rice, noodles, you name it. Its strong and yummy. This particular one is from one of our China buddy’s province in China so it’s the one we buy.
Sriracha Sauce – (not pictured) I love it. You can get it in any grocery store in the Asian section.

This is my favorite sauce right now. Spicy chilis in oil. It’s so delish on noodles, soups or meat and veggies! I make a simple chicken broth, shredded chicken, lemon grass, fish sauce, soy sauce and whatever veggies I have on hand. Top it with cilantro, the spicy chilis in oil, and peanuts. It’s so yummy!

In our market there is a “housewares section” where you can purchase very inexpensive China spoons and utensils. Almost every time I go I will pick up another bowl. I love having mismatched bowls and spoons. These are perfect for noodle bowls!

Rice! Our market has a huge aisle of rice – all kinds. I have tried several but keep going back to traditional Jasmine rice. You can get Jasmine rice at any grocery store these days but I love the big huge bags I can get at the Asian market.

Rice noodles are one of my favorite things to buy. All the kids love them. You can make endless varieties of noodle bowls with veggies and meat.

Ginger, snap peas, bok choy, spicy tiny peppers, and bean sprouts. Bean sprouts are a must in my pad thai or just thrown in anything – sooo yummy.

Some of our favorite fruits to get at the Asian market are the Asian pears, lychee fruit, dragon fruit and tiny bananas.

Other snack options my kids adore are the fruit jellies (think little individual jello packs) seaweed, custard cakes, rice rolls, and jelly squeeze packs. Haw snacks (a type of dried fruit) is one of my babies’ favorite snacks. Along with Pocky sticks, Panda cookies and dried peas.

Each time I go to the Asian market I manage to come home with a few new items to try. It really is a lot of fun!

In the frozen department your going to find tons of frozen steamed buns and dumplings. Each time I go, I pick up a different variety to try. My kids love the pork or custard ones. These are so easy to steam in your instant pot or rice cooker.

With Mid-Autumn Moon Festival around the corner, I have included some ideas to help you celebrate the holiday with your family.

In Chinese culture Mid-Autumn is celebrated traditionally around the time rice is supposed to mature and be harvested. So, people take this festival as an opportunity to celebrate the harvest and celebrate by eating moon cakes, lighting lanterns and getting together with friends and family.

Nicole, one of our NHBO contributors, wrote a wonderful post on how to make moon cakes in a more American way – mooncake cookies. We will be making ours this way with just sugar cookie dough. We have bought the traditional moon cakes at the Asian market and my kids have not loved them; they are not for everyone. They do come in beautifully-designed keepsake tins. I love our Asian market because they have such a wide variety each year and they range from $12 a box to upwards of $60 a box. They really are so so pretty!

But you can certainly keep the holiday spirit by purchasing the wood molds or a cookie press and making sugar Mid-Autumn Moon Festival cookies. Here is the cookie press I ordered on Amazon.

This year I also ordered a set of inexpensive lanterns. These have been great so far because I can use them for Chinese New Year and any other Asian holiday we may be celebrating

And I recently ran across a brand new website where you can order a box to help you celebrate Mid-Autumn Moon Festival. This is perfect if you don’t have a Asian market near by or just don’t have the time to take a trip and get all your supplies.

(If you order one of these – please leave feed back for the readers in the comments section below. Would love to know how these are in person.)

I hope this post helps you not feel so overwhelmed with your local Asian market! Remember there is no perfect way when trying to implement asian culture and cuisine into your home. Just the very fact of your adopted child seeing you take interest in the country of their roots are speaks volumes to their precious souls.

Zàijiàn! (Good bye!)  

And happy Asian Market adventuring!

Chinese Mid-Autumn Moon Festival is quickly approaching – this year it falls on October 4th! As we send our children off to school with love (or in my case, send them to the dining room table), I can’t help but reflect on all for which I’m thankful. During this incredibly busy season, the famous Moon Festival holiday offers an opportunity to take a break and simply be grateful for our family and all of our blessings.

Mid-Autumn Moon Festival dates back to the Tang Dynasty in 618AD, and is a very popular Chinese celebration of thanksgiving and gratitude. Families reunite and give thanks for the harvest and family unity. The holiday falls on the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month (in September or October) when the moon is brightest and fullest in the sky. Moon Festival is celebrated on this day because the big, round moon symbolizes togetherness and reunion in the Chinese culture.

Celebrations are made by joining together to look at the moon in the evening while chatting and visiting with one another. People share dinner together, eat traditional moon cakes and a few other delicious treats, and tell old legends of the Jade Rabbit and Chang’e that make up some of the Moon Festival traditions.

I simply adore the themes of family togetherness and thankfulness. Even though we aren’t in China, the Moon Festival offers an opportunity to be intentional in sharing those themes with our loved ones. It’s a time when we can share with our children about how appreciated and valued they are. In addition, Moon Festival presents a creative potential gateway into the sometimes difficult conversations of first families for our children who were adopted from China.

Because although the holiday is meant to represent thankfulness for families, it has the possibility of representing loss for many of our children as they think about their first families. Why not take the opportunity to be available for that dialogue, if our children will give us the honor?

Reading the beautifully illustrated adoption book, We See the Moon, might be a fantastic way to begin. It isn’t a traditional Moon Festival children’s book, but it fits perfectly as it eloquently and sensitively addresses difficult first family questions from a child’s perspective.

There are other fun ways that Mid-Autumn Moon Festival could be recognized as well:

1. Read Moon Festival children’s books together.
2. Decorate your home with a few traditional Chinese lanterns that commemorate Chang’e.
3. Or make your own lanterns together. Idea 1, Idea 2, Idea 3, Idea 4, Idea 5, Idea 6, Idea 7
4. Craft a sweet art project together.
5. Buy traditional Moon Cakes from a local Chinese grocery store or order them online.
6. Or spend an afternoon baking delicious Moon Cookies together. (Our family loves these as an alternative to Moon Cakes.)
7. Sip tea together (and munch on Moon Cookies!).
8. Go out for Chinese food at a local restaurant, or cook your own feast at home.
9. Host a moonlit picnic for family or close friends. Include round foods like apples, pears, grapes, and melons. Consider reading some Chinese poetry aloud too.
10. Roast marshmallows (another round food) over a fire pit in the evening.

This is a fantastic time to create family traditions, no matter how simple or extravagant they may be. Weaving Chinese holidays into our family celebrations doesn’t have to be complicated or time consuming, especially as different seasons of our lives bring different challenges.

Even though celebrating Moon Festival in our family doesn’t look like it does in China, the point is that we are together.

Being grateful for one another and showing each other how valued we are is what truly matters.

Zhōng qiū jié kuài lè! Happy Moon Festival, my friends!

Handsome 12-year-old Max was born with a low birth weight, but has no other special needs. He is all smiles, but a bit camera shy. He enjoys playing with the other children and he is described as a sweet and well-behaved boy. He does struggle a little academically.

Max is a mild-mannered and respectful kid who is waiting for a family in a province that makes the travel part of the process as easy and convenient as possible for an adoptive family.

Agency staff met Max in 2015 and he was also hosted in the US in the summer of 2016. Everyone adored him. Max did find a family, but sadly that family was not able to proceed (through no fault of his own). Now sweet Max is waiting yet again.

It is hard to understand why Max has waited all these years, especially when you look at the precious photos of him from a younger age when his file was first prepared.

Max has seen many friends leave to go with their forever families. He understands what adoption means and wants a family of his own. We know there has to be a family out there for Max!

New videos can be found here: Max 1 and Max 2. Password for both is Adoptmaa.

September 2017 Written Update:

1. Does he have foster siblings? How many and how old?
There is a 12 year old girl.

2. Does he get along with younger children? Older children?
He gets along well with older or younger kids.

3. What grade is he in? Does he go to regular school? How does he do in school?
He’s in sixth grade in XX elementary school of XX Town. He does well at school.

4. What is his personality like?
He’s extroverted, active, happy.

5. Who is he closest with?
His foster mother.

6. Has his leg healed? Is he able to walk and run again?
It is healed. He can walk and run again.

7. What does he enjoy to do?
He like sports, soccer.

8. Did he enjoy his time in the US?
Yes, he likes America.

There is a $5,000 Bright Futures agency grant for Max’s adoption with MAA. Other grants may be available based on the adoptive family’s circumstances. Agency grants are awarded as agency fee reductions. MAA also partners with the Brittany’s Hope Foundation for matching grants, which are given out twice a year and to families that are matched with a child.

If you are interested in reviewing Max’s file or in adopting Max, please fill out a free PAP Waiting Child Review Form here.

Rini, our youngest of six children, was adopted in August of 2013 at end stage heart failure stemming from complex, single ventricle congenital heart disease. She was admitted to the hospital immediately upon arrival home and within two weeks it was determined that she was inoperable, her only hope would come through cardiac transplant. She was initially found to be ineligible, but that would change thanks to a heart failure/transplant program that chose to take a chance on hope and optimism.

Much as we owe her life to the sacrifice made by her birth family in letting her go, we also owe it to the incredible, selfless act of organ donation made by a family in the midst of the incomprehensible loss of their child.

This series is a retrospective of the weeks leading up to Rini’s transplant which took place on November 13, 2013, and it is my hope that it will help to bring awareness to the importance of registering to be an organ and tissue donor.

We all have the power to be someone else’s miracle.

Donate Life!

From October 28th, 2016

On this day three years ago, Eric sent me this photo taken from Rini’s room. Many times I rejoiced that she was in a hospital so beautifully situated, as we could look out any window and see God’s glorious creation. It brought moments of peace during those days of great emotional chaos.

From October 29th, 2016

On this day three years ago, Seattle’s transplant surgeons approached Eric and told him that they had ordered a VAD (ventricular assist device) from New York for Rini. At the time, the details were a blur but yesterday I emailed the transplant team for clarification. Earlier this evening I received a phone call from Dr. M, Rini’s transplant surgeon. He was gracious enough to give of his time to discuss with me the parts of Rini’s story that I needed clarification on. 

Ventricular assist devices can be used as a bridge to transplant and can be an alternative to ECMO (extracorporeal membranous oxygenation). ECMO is basically bedside cardio-pulmonary bypass, and takes over the function of the heart and lungs. The ECMO circuit moves blood out of the child’s body, through an oxygenator, and then back in. It is sometimes used to give a struggling heart the chance to rest after open-heart surgery but in Rini’s case, it would be an end-stage intervention. For her, it would be life-support. Outcomes in such cases are usually poor, since a heart like Rini’s does not recover and therefore the ECMO course would be indefinite. Massive doses of Heparin are used in an attempt to keep the ECMO circuit from clotting, and with the anticoagulant comes a significant bleeding risk. Another great risk is that of clotting, plus infection may occur and frequent blood transfusions are necessary. The longer a child is on ECMO, the greater the risk.

Placing Rini on ECMO was something that nobody wanted to do that early in her wait on the transplant list. With 3-5 months being the average wait for a heart in the U.S. at Status 1A, and with the average pediatric survival on ECMO just 2-3 weeks, well, the math was pretty ugly.

The VAD that was ordered was a PediMag, very similar to ECMO but without the oxygenator. Because of the absence of the oxygenator, less Heparin would be needed which would theoretically reduce the risk of a catastrophic bleed. VADs usually do not produce good outcomes in single ventricle patients, and depending on the child’s anatomical particulars, a VAD may not be an option at all. But because Rini had a PDA (patent ductus arteriosis), the hope was that enough blood would be able to make its way to her lungs for oxygenation in the absence of a mechanical oxygenator. It would not be a sure thing but with our consent, they wanted to try.

From her medical records:

“Rini has single ventricle CHD in the form of double inlet left ventricle, L-Transposition, severe subvalvar and valvar pulmonary stenosis, severely dilated right pulmonary artery, severely hypoplastic left pulmonary artery, severe right and left atrioventricular valve regurgitation, patent ductus arteriosis, severely dimished ventricular systolic function with severe left ventricular dilation.”

During this evening’s conversation, Dr. M said, “There were no good options for Rini.” But the hope was that the VAD would provide Rini with days or maybe a few weeks without the need for ECMO. Reflecting on those days, I see now what I didn’t understand enough to see then. Her team recognized where Rini’s journey was heading, and it was becoming a numbers game.

Being at home with the children gave me a respite from the constant bombardment of worry that I experienced when I was in-patient with her. I was relishing the sweetness of home with our other five children. Scarlett took to resting in Rini’s swing, which I found so poignant. We were preparing costumes for trick-or-treating, and the days were as peaceful as they could be under the circumstances. I remember not being overly concerned about the surgeons’ desire to order the VAD, since Rini seemed relatively stable from where I sat. Intellectually, I knew she was seriously ill. “Very medically fragile” was how her team characterized her on that day. But I was obviously sitting at the delusional table.

From October 30th, 2016

I have very few memories of this day, three years ago. But I do remember the laughter of my other children as they played, and how beautiful the fall foliage was. God had given me a reprieve and a chance to catch my breath. I would need the strength that I was rebuilding, as the darkest days were less than a week away.

From October 31st, 2016

On this day, three years ago..

From my journal:

“Up in Seattle, Rini is resting as her team has continued to struggle to find her point of stability. They are characterizing her as “extremely medically fragile,” and each day brings its ups and downs. Every day that she makes it without a major setback or catastrophic event is a victory. This limbo that our child is in is a very bittersweet place to be in. On the one hand, we are so immensely grateful that she is listed for transplant. But on the other hand, we are fearful that her chance will not come or that if it does, she will not make it through. We miss her voice, holding her, seeing her smile. But conversely, we feel incredibly fortunate that she is still here with us and that at least we still have the hope that we will have her back at some point. I miss her so much. Almost each night I have had a vivid dream about her, and as hard as it is to be away from our other children, I yearn to be back in the same room with her just so that I can look at her sweet face and touch her skin.

Child Life came by yesterday and Eric was able to order a costume for her. Today, the CL specialist came to her room and they placed her costume on top of her. Eric tucked a lollipop that he had purchased for her into her grasp so that on this, her first Halloween, she would be able to come as close as possible to trick-or-treating. Her costume is of a Pirate Princess, which I feel is most apt since she has certainly stolen our hearts.”

Oskar is an extroverted and handsome seven-year-old boy who usually has a huge smile on his face, whether he is at home or at school! His smile is so amazing that he makes everyone around him happy just by being with him.

Oskar lives with an English-speaking foster family, sponsored by Love Without Boundaries. He loves to play with other children as well as the family’s pets. He is behind other children from a motor standpoint, but his foster mother says he is very smart and points to all his body parts, can sort and stack blocks, and can problem solve. He has been receiving rehabilitation for his cerebral palsy and has continued to make gains. He has a walker and a wheelchair, but does not like to use them. He would rather hold an adult’s hand to walk.

Oskar has an amazing spunk and determination. He is not speaking yet, but is learning sign language and now knows about 500 signs. This has really helped him communicate better with the adults around him. Oskar would benefit from continued use of basic sign language and speech therapy. We hope to find Oskar a family because we know he’ll not only make a great son, but that a family will be blessed daily by his presence.

New video of Oskar is here and an older video of him is here. Password for both is Adoptmaa.

September 2017 Written Update for Oskar:

1. Oskar’s mental capability is like any other 7-year-old boy his age.

2. He has CP (Cerebral Palsy). It does not affect him mentally, but it effects his walking and speaking. He also gets easier tired than other kids his age. At the end of the day he usually is so ready for bed.

3. Yes, he is potty trained. While he can go pee by himself, he still needs some support going big (cleaning afterwards).

4. Oskar is a very fun and active boy. He is so boy and his CP does not hold him back to want to do everything all the other boys do in his age. He is very extroverted and loves going outside. He loves sport, as in swimming, playing ball, taking walks (usually on his car). He is very competitive – which usually shows itself when we play board games. He is a very social boy and loves to hang out with his foster siblings and friends. His love language is touch. Hugging and kissing him as well as encouraging him with words of affirmation get the best out of him. Although he is usually very brave, he is afraid of the dark and won’t go anywhere if there is no light.

5. When he came to his foster home, as a three-year-old, he had to learn what rules are and how to keep them. He has improved so much in the last four years. He sometimes still is a bit stubborn and tries to get his way through crying, but it is now much more according to his appropriate age. His foster family has found out that if they explain to him ahead of time what will happen, why he will need to share something, why he will not be able to go along with them, why he should not do something or change his behavior, he then will obey very well.

6. When Oskar came to his foster home, he was only able to crawl. He now can walk by himself through the whole house. He can get up by himself and walk for a short distance. When holding onto a ladder, he can walk up some stairs. But as soon as goes out, he usually uses an electric wheelchair or a stroller to get somewhere. When they get to the place, he usually wants to get out of the wheelchair and walk around with their help. He is daily improving in his walking and his foster mom believes that, with some therapy and some support as in leg braces, he should be able to walk stable one day. But so far, he still needs support from us.

7. His foster family is working on his fine motor skills. He still mostly scribbles. Not because he does not know his ABC, but because his fine motor skills with his hands are a bit hard for him. Last week though he wrote his name all by himself on a piece of paper, and it was readable. When his foster mom asks him to color a picture, he usually always draws out of the box. It makes him mad because he knows it should not look like that. Basically, he can pick up anything with his fingers, hold a pen, open stuff, just not draw very well.

8. In the morning, he goes to Chinese kindergarten. In the afternoon, he is home-schooled in English, Math, and sign language (ASL). In Math, he is learning numbers from 1-20. We just started learning some addition. Books we use for him in Math as well as English are Kindergarten level (Pre K). He knows about 500 words in sign language by now, which has helped so much in communicated with him. He understands English as well as Chinese.

9. He is very much attached to his foster mom and loves his foster siblings a lot.

10. His social skills are good. When friends come over to play, he will find something to play with them. He especially likes hanging out with other boys his age. Even though he cannot speak, he will find a way to make them understand him. He had no problem with interacting with adults.

11. Oskar has been living since the age of 3 in the same foster home. His foster mom is from Germany (but only speaks English to him). Before that he lived in the orphanage.

12. He can only say a few words: mama, more, move, ayi (auntie in Chinese), everything else he communicates in sign language

13. He can follow directions in three steps. He understands everything you say and can do it.

14. He shares a room with his younger foster brother.

15. He does not take any medication.

16. Oskar usually gets up at 6.30. He then plays and has breakfast until 8.30 when it is time to go to Chinese kindergarten. At 11.30 he come home. 12.00 o’clock he has lunch. Then he gets to rest and has I-Pad time (his favorite time of the day). At 14.30 the kids have a snack. At 15.00 o’clock they get home-schooled for 1- 1 ½ hours. Then the group goes on an outing where he gets to exercise. Dinner is at 18.00. At 20.00 he goes to sleep.

17. Mostly he gets to eat Chinese food, which would be lots of rice, fried veggies, noodles, etc. Sometimes he gets to eat western dishes, which he really likes. He especially likes to eat chicken wings. He eats by himself and uses a spoon. He is not picky at all and loves to try new things. He usually does not eat a whole lot and gets hungry very fast again, so that he needs some snacks between the meals. Fruit for example. Going to the fridge throughout the day, is one of his favorite things (he usually finds something he wants e.g. Yogurt.

18. His foster mom only speaks English to him so his English is quite good.

19. In his 4 years that he has been in his foster home, he has seen about 6 of his foster siblings being adopted. His foster mom openly talks about adoption and prepares the kids well for the possibility of being adopted. Oskar has been praying for his own mom and dad for a long time now. He understands what it means (as far as a kid can understand) and is waiting for his own mom and dad to show up. He also prays to have some siblings of his own, that will play with him. He has now even started to pray for grandparents of his own.

20. His favorite color is green. If he plays a game it has to be green, if he gets clothes or a toy they have to be green, if he likes something it has to be green.

21. Board games are his most favorite activity. But he also loves to play with toys, play Lego, play with superheroes, or go on outings. He also loves it to be read books to, or look at pictures books by himself.

22. It is hard to say what his favorite toy is, since he does not have one in specific. He loves to play with cars, super heroes, look at books…. Any toy any other 7-year-old would like to play with.

There is a $2,000 agency grant for Oskar’s adoption with Madison Adoption Associates. Other grants may be available based on the adoptive family’s circumstances. Agency grants are awarded as agency fee reductions. MAA also partners with the Brittany’s Hope Foundation for matching grants, which are given out twice a year (January and July) and to families that are officially matched with a child.

If you are interested in reviewing Oskar’s file or in adopting Oskar, please fill out a free PAP Waiting Child Review Form, which can be found here.

As parents to children with special needs it can be difficult to find the best resources for kids, especially if we are in the midst of a difficult time or new diagnosis. Hoping to make the task a bit less daunting here is a list of links to various grants, programs, and services for individuals with special needs.

General

UnitedHealthcare Children’s Foundation – provides medical grants to help children gain access to health-related services not covered, or not fully covered, by their family’s commercial health insurance plan

First Hand Foundation – provides funding for individual children—both domestically and globally—who need assistance with clinical necessities (such as surgery, medication and therapy), medical equipment and travel related to care

The Lindsay Foundation – assists families with the resources necessary to provide medical treatment, therapies, and rehabilitative equipment in order to improve the quality of life for their special-needs children

ARCH National Respite Network and Resource Center – assists and promotes the development of quality respite and crisis care programs to help families locate respite and crisis care services in their communities

NeedyMeds – national non-profit organization that maintains a website of free information on programs that help people who can’t afford medications and healthcare costs

Aubrey Rose Foundation – provides assistance to families caring for children with life threatening illnesses by providing emotional and financial support

Hands to Angels – supports the identification and eventual prevention of rare, genetic disorders, and provides financial assistance to families coping with the many complications of these disorders

The Maggie Welby Foundation – provides financial assistance for children in need, families in need, and organizations benefiting children

Building Blocks For Kids – provides assistance to meet the needs of children with physical, emotional and developmental challenges by bridging the funding gap for products and services

Grotto Humanitarian Foundation – brings smiles to children with special needs by providing dental care including costs of dental treatment, hospital, and anesthesia

The Ray Tye Medical Aid Foundation – provides funding for in-hospital life saving medical treatment and surgeries

The Parker Lee Project – organization dedicated to helping the families of children with medical needs obtain the supplies/equipment, education, and support

Aubrey’s Warriors Foundation – assists families with emergency funding by fundraising, transportation assistance, resources necessary to provide medical treatment, therapies and rehabilitative equipment

The Prayer Child Foundation – provides assistance to children with physical and emotional challenges

Different Needz Foundation – provides grants to individuals with developmental disabilities, their families and organizations to provide medical equipment and/or services

Variety – the Children’s Charity – serves children who are less fortunate and who live and grow up with a serious illness, disability or disadvantage

HealthWell Foundation Pediatric Assistance Fund – provides financial assistance so children can start or continue critical and life-saving medical treatment

Alyssa V. Phillips Foundation – provides financial support to those impacted by cerebral palsy so they can receive necessary therapy and equipment

Danny Did Foundation – provides grants for intervention devices for children and adults with epilepsy

Eden’s Hope Foundation – works to ease the financial burden on families with children in treatment for neuroblastoma for expenses not typically covered by insurance or benefit programs

Small Steps in Speech – assists children with speech and language disorders by funding supplemental therapies and treatments for individuals

Medical Travel

Air Charity Network – comprised of a network member organizations who cover specific geographical service areas and coordinate volunteer pilot flights in the United States

Miracle Flights – provides financial assistance to low-income children for commercial air travel to obtain special medical care

Mercy Medical Angels – their mission is to ensure that no one in need is denied medical care due to a lack of transportation

Southwest Airlines Medical Transportation Grant Program – provides complimentary, roundtrip tickets to participating nonprofit hospitals and medical transportation organizations

Footprints in the Sky – provides free flights for patients to medical facilities throughout the United States using donated charter and corporate jets

Angel Wheels to Healing – provides non-emergency, long-distance ground transportation to financially disadvantaged, ambulatory patients who are traveling for treatment

Air Care Alliance – connect with more than sixty groups of volunteer pilots who fly patients for care or provide other flights or aviation services to help those in need

Ronald McDonald House Charities – network of local Chapters has been making children happier and healthier by keeping families close

Believe In Tomorrow Children’s Foundation – provides exceptional hospital and respite housing services to critically ill children and their families. We believe in keeping families together during a child’s medical crisis

Additional Resource Lists

Special Needs Resource Project
Ultimate List of Grants and Resources for Families with Special Needs
Grants and Funding Sources
Special Needs Grants
Funding Resources for Special Needs and Adaptive Equipment

Please share your favorite special needs grants and programs in the comments!

I often see posts in the various adoption groups I am in where parents are looking for suggestions for favorite adoption themed books for their waiting or newly home children. While in process for our first daughter to come home from China, we received a list of children’s books that addressed adoption during one of our training sessions. When we got home I hopped online and immediately ordered all of them and justified it as retail therapy. Even though many of those books became favorites, shortly after our daughter came home I realized there was a valuable tool missing from our library… her story.

When I talk about lifebooks with friends who have adopted the general consensus is that they realize what a valuable tool they can be in helping their child heal and embrace their story, but they are overwhelmed and do not know where to start.
Some families feel like they do not have enough information to compile a meaningful book for their child.
Others feel overwhelmed with the amount of information they have.
And some may have adopted an older child and feel like they already know their story and it is too late to document it.

What may be the hardest part of writing a lifebook is that as parents we want our children’s stories to be happy ones. It is hard to face and document a story that is based on loss and early childhood trauma but every child has the right to their story. It is validation that their life and their story matters. Biological children have baby books, our adopted children have their version: a lifebook.

The easiest way to start planning on how you will document your child’s story is to look at what a lifebook is and what it is not. First and foremost, a lifebook is the true story of your child before you met them. It starts with your child’s birth, it addresses their birthmother and birthfather, where they were born, circumstances surrounding how they became available for adoption, and is not embellished with details that do not exist.

The desire to soften or embellish hard details might arise, but we would be doing our children a disservice by not presenting their true story. A factual documentation of their story will build trust. Storytelling is an important part of families and their histories. A lifebook gives you the opportunity to be the storyteller and give your child their history.

A lifebook is a way to normalize adoption language. Before we became adoptive parents were words like “birthmother and birthfather”, “orphanage”, “foster parents” or “abandonment” a part of our daily vocabulary? Because they have lifebooks, and because we as their parents are comfortable with the “hard” words surrounding their lives before we met, the stigma of those words has been removed for my girls. We frequently hear the words orphanage, abandoned, and birthmother in our home as part of daily conversation. If your children don’t hear these words and details from you in a loving way, they may hear them from others in a way that is meant to be hurtful. Normalizing these words for your child is important and builds trust.

A lifebook is structured in a way to address difficult adoption topics. It gives you a script and allows you to become comfortable relaying your child’s story. If we aren’t comfortable with our children’s story, how can we expect them to be? Not presenting them with the details of their life before you met might lead them to believe there is shame in it.

A lifebook is uncluttered, easy to read, and easy for your child to hold. The pictures you include grab and hold your child’s attention and support their story. Create the book in a format that is easy for your child to hold and flip through. Imagine your child in your lap as you look through the book together.

Lifebooks can be created in digital format through companies like Shutterfly or Blurb (or whoever has a good coupon!) or they can be created like a traditional scrapbook. There is no right or wrong way to create a lifebook, just remember to only use copies of pictures and documents and not originals.

Quite simply, a lifebook is a gift to your child. Even if they don’t initially show interest in it, revisit it, and leave it where it is accessible. Follow your child’s lead, but do not assume that because they are not asking questions or talking about their past that they are not processing their story.

One of my girls immediately embraced her lifebook. She carried it everywhere, asked me to read it over and over, and even slept with it for months. We are on our second printing of it as the first became well worn. My second daughter only showed mild interest in her lifebook. She knows where it is in her room and every so often I will pull it out and ask if she wants to look through it. Even though she has not shown the same level of interest, she is as comfortable with her story as her older sister, they have needed and used their books in different ways.

It is also important to look at what a lifebook is not. A lifebook is not a scrapbook of your feelings and memories of your child’s adoption process. In addition to lifebooks, both of my girls have separate scrapbook albums with the pictures from our trips to meet them. A lifebook isn’t going to contain airline tickets and other ephemera and it isn’t going to discuss how you felt during the adoption process.

Maybe this makes you breathe a sigh of relief as all of the “stuff” you thought you needed to include in their lifebook can be saved for another album. This may also make you panic a little as maybe your child came to you with very little information and now you feel like you don’t have enough to complete a lifebook. I will share ideas later in this post on how to supplement a lifebook where you have very little information as that was the case for one of my daughters.

It is not a book to be shared with casual acquaintances. Your child’s lifebook contains information that is personal and private. It is important to ensure that they know that private does not imply that their story is something to be ashamed of, it is private in the sense that it is to be shared with family. You could complete two lifebooks, one that is a version that stays at home and a version that can be shared with friends and extended family. Both of my girls have asked to bring their books to school but we compromised and they got to pick whatever pictures they wanted to take in from their travel albums and were happy with that.

Your child’s story is not embellished and details are not omitted to hide hard truths. In both of my girl’s cases we have an estimated date of birth and a vague abandonment location. With so little to go on it would be easy to want to add to their stories to give them more information and to soften the reality of not knowing their exact birth date or finding place. It is tempting to use phrasing such as “your birthmother loved you so much that she left you in a public location so that you would be found quickly”. I cannot put that in writing as I do not know it to be 100% true. We don’t know if it was the birthmother who left our girls, we don’t know if it was an act of love, desperation, or otherwise. Using phrasing such as “your paperwork from China states that you were born on…” and “your abandonment certificate lists ____ as your finding location” lets you include what information you have without stating it is a known truth.

An exception to this would be if your child was found with a note and you could then include that information. When my girls and I sit and read their lifebooks together it is natural for them to question and create different scenarios as to what may have happened in those early days where there is little to no information. We encourage them to ask questions even though our answer may be “I wish I knew but I don’t.” We lead them to explore their questions framed by “I imagine”. For example they might say, “I imagine my birthmother left me at the civil affairs office because she knew someone would find a baby there” or “I imagine she had thick, brown hair like me”, “I imagine she loved me and wanted to take care of me but couldn’t because I was very sick” etc. How they interpret their story will change as they grow and mature and having a stable foundation of an accurate lifebook will give them a foundation for that interpretation.

A lifebook does not have to be a certain number of pages. It doesn’t have to have a certain number of pictures. It can be created on a computer or written by hand. It can be a bound book or a scrapbook style album. Done is more important than perfect. One of my second daughter’s favorite things she has from China is a lifebook from her time with her foster family. The book is simply pictures glued to construction paper with stickers and handwritten captions and she loves it. Not because of the format but because someone took the time to document her story.

Since I have written a book for a child with very little information, and one with an abundance of information, I will share some ideas on how to work with what you have or don’t have. We adopted our first daughter in 2011 at the age of 3 1/2. When we received her referral her file was comprised of 3 pictures and an incomplete medical file. As part of her care package we sent a disposable camera and on our family day we received 10 pictures of her all taken the same day along with her finding ad.

Armed with so little, it would have been easy to think I didn’t have enough information to compile a lifebook for her, but by digging into the internet and getting creative, I was able to complete her book. One of the first things I did was look for pictures of her and her orphanage on Baidu.com and Baidu image search. Baidu is a Chinese search engine similar to Google. When viewing it in Chrome, the pages will be translated from Chinese to English and with a little digging you may be able to find information on your child. I was able to find several pictures of our daughter at the orphanage which are priceless!

One of the first things to check would be to see if your child’s orphanage has a website. It turns out hers did and I found a couple of pictures of her on it as well as exterior and interior pictures of the orphanage I was able to use in her lifebook. I then searched her orphanage name along with words and phrases like “Children’s Day”, “Lunar New Year” and “Mid Autumn Festival” with the years that she was there. The media may cover events and pictures may be taken and published around the different holidays as that is when people may visit and make donations to the orphanage. I was able to find a couple of pictures of her in the arms of visitors to the orphanage who had made donations of supplies.

Finding ads may possibly be found this way with information you have in your child’s referral like their date of birth, date of abandonment, name of orphanage along with words like “tracing notice” or “seeking notice”. Wunderground.com is another site that is helpful. You can look up the weather history for the day your child was born, abandoned, etc. With the information I found I was able to include in her book that temperatures reached 80 degrees during the day and 64 degrees at night on the day that her file says she was born.

Through a contact I made on Facebook I was able to track down a young lady who had lived at our daughter’s orphanage for many years. When I reached out to her she surprised me with several pictures of herself with our daughter that I could now include that in her book along with first hand information she gave us.

Other ways that I was able to create a substantial book for her were to include a page about her province, a page about her Chinese zodiac sign, and a page about her orphanage with pictures I found online since we didn’t get to visit. I also made several of the pictures full-page pictures so as to fill more space.

For our second daughter, I had more information than I knew what to do with. I found pictures on her orphanage’s website, we had close to 1000 pictures from her time in foster care, I had pages and pages of progress reports from her time in school, a scrapbook from her time in foster care, and baby pictures from someone who had worked in her orphanage. My challenge was culling the amount of information I had to make it manageable to work with. The way I approached it was to outline the content of her book and pick pictures to support her story. Where in DD #1’s album I used full page pictures, in DD #2’s I included several pictures on most pages. I used an outline similar to this for each girl’s book.

– Page(s) about their birth and abandonment with information found in their Chinese birth certificate and abandonment certificate. I also included information on finding ads and what they are along with copies of their finding ads. Their special needs are also mentioned in this section.

– Page(s) about their orphanage with pictures.

– Page(s) with pictures from their time in the orphanage along with any names/ information available.

– For our second daughter I included a few pages for her time in foster care, explained what a foster family’s role is, and included pages for her time in school.

– Page(s) with Chinese zodiac sign and meaning.

– Page(s) about their province and what it is known for. Used pictures taken on our trip and found on-line.

– Page(s) about Chinese holidays.

– I included copies of both girls’ English translations of medical files. You could also include copies of Chinese birth certificate and abandonment certificate

Since the first page and the beginning of your child’s story can often be the most difficult to write, I am sharing a page similar to what I wrote for my two girls (dates and other information have been changed to protect their privacy). Seeing how others wrote and completed their lifebooks was helpful when I was working on my first book. You can choose to write your child’s book in age appropriate language, or to write it as I have done and read it to them in an age appropriate way.

If you write a version for a younger child, you may want to revise it as the child grows so that it holds their interest. You may also consider having an older child participate in writing their lifebook.

Example Page:

“Your story begins on Sunday, January 1, 2000 in Shanxi Province, China. It was a cold and windy day with temperatures falling below freezing. Your Chinese birth certificate notes that you were born on January 1, but that your exact place of birth is unknown. We imagine that your birth parents were very surprised when they first saw their beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed daughter! Although your birth mother probably has dark hair and dark eyes, we imagine that she is beautiful just like you. We believe she kept you as long as she could and that she remembers you and thinks of you often.

For reasons that we may never know, someone made the decision on or around Sunday June 1, 2000 to leave you at the corner of XYZ Road in ABC Village. Being that it was summer time, the temperature was a warm 85 degrees that day with a light breeze. Your finding ad mentions that you were left with a note on red paper and were wrapped in a white blanket. When you were found by a gentleman named Mr. Citizen, police officers from the ABC Police station were called and they brought you to 123 Orphanage on the same day.

A finding ad was published and a 3 month search was conducted for your birth parents but they could not be located. Your finding ad is precious to us as it is the only baby picture we have of you. In your baby picture you are wrapped up in a Pleasant Goat blanket and have a sweet smile on your face. You were in someone’s care for 6 months before the decision was made to abandon you on that summer day in June.

Sometimes adults have to make very hard decisions, and we imagine the decision to abandon you was a very difficult one. All too often, children with albinism in China are abandoned because albinism is still misunderstood in many parts of the country. People with albinism are sometimes thought to be a curse and that they will bring bad luck to their families. Of course we know this is not true, but long held beliefs are sometimes deeply ingrained in a culture.”

Resources:

Baidu.com
Wunderground.com
Adoptionlifebooks.com
Facebook – there are FB groups for many provinces and orphanages where information can be found and shared
Before You Were Mine by Susan TeBoss and Carissa Woodwyk
Lifebooks Creating a Treasure for the Adopted Child by Beth O’Malley

– guest post by Martha

Chinese Bāozi is a much-loved dish in our family, so I was really looking forward to making it from scratch! Homemade always tastes more delicious than store-bought, at least in my opinion. There’s something special about freshly-made homemade dough, though it can be somewhat time consuming to pull together.

Stuffing the buns could be a lot quicker with more hands, but I worked solo. Even though bāozi isn’t traditionally associated with a specific holiday, I think making it together could be a fun way to celebrate any Chinese occasion.

As we approach Mid-Autumn Moon Festival on October 4th, this could be a fun dish to give a try! I have included all of the ingredients and instructions below with pictures, but here is a printable version too.

For the dough:

Ingredients
3 cups flour
1 cup warm water (105-110 ℉)
2 tsp instant yeast
2 tbsp sugar
2 tsp oil (peanut or EVOO)
2 tsp baking powder

Mix 1 cup warm water, 2 tsp yeast, and 1 tbsp sugar until the yeast and sugar have dissolved. Set aside for 5 minutes to let proof. Meanwhile, mix flour, 1 tbsp sugar, 2 tbsp oil, and 2 tsp baking powder in a mixer (I used a KitchenAid). Once the yeast has been activated, slowly add that mixture into the dry ingredients while mixing simultaneously. A dough ball should form so that it sticks together but doesn’t stick to your hands. Flour or water may be added by the teaspoon to get the desired consistency.

Roll dough into 1½ oz balls (roll on a plate or tuck the dough up under itself at the bottom) and set aside on a wax paper-lined tray. You should be able to make approximately 20 dough balls. Set aside in a warm, moist environment to rise about 40-60 minutes, until the dough balls have doubled in size. Some ovens have “proof” settings for this. Or you can use my Daddy’s trick: boil a teapot of water, take off the top, and place in an unheated oven so the steam will release into the air. Proof the dough, covered with a damp towel, inside the oven. Do not open the oven until the dough has finished proofing.

Meanwhile, prepare the filling.

For the filling:

Ingredients
2 cups of packed Chinese cabbage, chopped finely
1½ tbsp fresh, finely minced ginger root
3-4 cloves garlic, finely minced
½ cup fresh, finely chopped green onions
¹⁄₈ tsp ground white pepper
¼ water
2 tbsp regular soy sauce (not lite)
1½ tbsp Shaoxing or cooking wine
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp sesame oil
1 lb of ground meat (pork is traditional but I prefer 93% fat turkey)

Combine all of the ingredients together, keeping the meat refrigerated until adding it at the end. Refrigerate the combined filling until it’s time to stuff the bāozi.

For the bāozi:

After the dough balls have finished proofing, it’s time to fill them! Roll out one dough ball at a time on a floured surface, using a Chinese-style rolling pin, making sure to roll the outer ½-¾ inch thinner than the middle. The buns should be approximately 4 inches in diameter and should fit in the palm of your hand.

Next, add about 1-2 tbsp of filling to the center of the bun, leaving at least a 1-inch edge. I think I added too much meat to some of my buns, but I stuffed them as much as I could. After that, fold and press the edges together in the middle, at the top of the bun, and then twist to close. The dough should stick together easily. I know this is a real art in China, but I was happy they closed up and resembled bāozi at all, so I gave myself grace on this part. There are youtube videos from Chinese chefs offering a lot of advice about how to do this though, so feel free to explore!

Allow the bāozi to rest about 20 minutes before steaming. Then, put a small piece of wax paper under each bāozi in the steamers to prevent sticking. I used a bamboo steamer over a wok, with just enough water added so it didn’t touch the steamers. Make sure the water at the bottom is filled though, because I made the huge mistake of unknowingly letting the water boil out, and I burned one of my steamers. Live and learn!

The bāozi can also be steamed with a Western steamer, it’ll just take a little longer because you can’t cook as many at the same time. Steam for about 15 minutes, transfer to a plate, and wait at least 5 minutes to cool before enjoying!

Note: My bāozi came out browner than I was expecting – I first thought that was because of my water issue. But they were still brown after remedying that problem, so I’m not sure what I did wrong. They tasted delicious though, fortunately the brownness didn’t impact the flavor!

If you give these a try, please let me know! I’d love to hear about your experiences! Though I will not be making bāozi regularly, I’m glad I finally attempted them and I will certainly be adding it to my Chinese food repertoire! (Almost) everyone gobbled them up, with both of my Chinese-born loves especially enjoying them.

I pulled at the corners of my eyes, slanting them until all I could see was light and distorted faces. Then, I strung together a long chain of “Chinese-Japanese” words, “Ching, ching, chong, chang, chong.” It got me some laughs. Other kids did it too, so I guessed it was no big thing. I was a nice little girl after all, who would never hurt a soul. There was rarely an Asian anywhere near my playground anyway.

Am I now?

I’d really rather not think on these things.

I am a white, middle class woman, and I have had experiences with racism. Some big, some small. I’ve heard it, seen it, and participated in it through my own ignorance and silence.

Now, as parent to three Asian-Americans, when I hear of kids slanting their eyes and speaking in “Chinese”, my heart hurts. Momma bear gets protective.

I am no longer passive about racism. I’ve allowed myself to wrestle with it. I’ve stood on the soil of Africa and Haiti and China, and considered how the place of my birth, the color of my skin, has altered the trajectory of my life for my benefit.

“Not being racist” doesn’t cut it anymore. I’ve seen too much, and three of my kids have beautiful, Asian, brown skin. They have silky, straight, black hair, almond eyes and differently shaped noses. I want them to see themselves represented in the world we’re planted in. They are watching, and collecting memories of their own. They’ve already experienced racism through stereotypes and their own encounters of kids “speaking Chinese-Japanese” with slanted eyes.

As they grow, I suspect they’ll wrestle and have more experiences with racism, and prejudices against differences, just as I have. If I want to honor and guide the full child, I get no free pass to not talk about racism and differences.

I want to raise up little allies, be an ally, to people who live and look differently. My husband and I want to raise our kids up with intention. We can’t assume that not saying racist things will be enough to protect them from even unintentional racist notions. The world is so ugly, but we can shed light into the darkness.

I have felt guilty, protective and angry, for how I’ve neglected to reconcile race in my world, but I don’t want to get stuck there. It isn’t helpful. We want to be better and do better. We want to open our hearts, home and table to more voices, friendships, and experiences. Not in the pounding my head guiltily against the wall, here’s another area this momma doesn’t measure up, way. That’s not sustainable. More in let’s get creative, mix things up and breathe the world more deeply in ways:

Prayer: 
I’m asking God to have His way with the ugly places in our hearts. I’m asking him to show me ways that racism might saturate my thinking. I’m asking for the words to talk to our kids. For the boldness to set an example on responding to racist comments and playground games. I am asking the Lord to continue to color our family’s world with people. I pray that He’ll stir our hearts and open our eyes to our neighborhood, community and world.

Voices We Listen To: The last racist protest in the news shed some light on a pattern that needed changing. Fired up and ready to use my voice, I was devouring blog posts. But I realized, other than some MLK quotes, everything I was sharing about race, was written by a white person. I love that my white-skinned sisters are trying to be allies, but in times of flared tension, I don’t want to only hear from them. So I went looking for what my black friends, Hispanic neighbors, or Muslim writers, were thinking. I admit my need to be enlightened, challenged.

Honest Talk: 
I really didn’t want to show my kids the news video of white hooded men gripping tiki-torches and chanting hate. I really didn’t want to tell my kids that the contractor daddy just talked to won’t be doing the painting he bid on because he added that he “never hires any of them Mexican workers” to his sales pitch. I really don’t want to explain to my kids that all races and cultures have racism. That though not everyone is racist, every group has pockets of racist people. None of us, regardless of our appearance, is protected from bigotry. I’d rather not talk to my kids about our country’s history of slave run plantations, “colored bathrooms”, Japanese internment camps or low pay of migrant workers. I’d rather not explain to my kid why people have swastikas on their parade banners.

But I need to if we want to be a family of difference makers.

What Voices Fill My Home?

We listen to podcasts, watch Netflix, play Spotify, have a basket of library books on the coffee table and scroll Instagram. How many of these voices, chefs, pastors, authors and characters are white? Too many.

Adding some new Pandora stations is such an easy way to raise up culturally tuned in kids. We have kitchen dance parties to Lecrae, “Latinos En La Casa”, and “Indian Vibes”. We do homework to “Chinese Traditional”.

I’ve widened my social media following to include the perspectives of Ravi Zacharias, Awesomely Luvvie, Francis Lam, ChihYu Smith, Nat Geo Travel, Jo Saxton, Khalida Brohi, Eugene Cho, Wynter Pitts, Preemptive Love, Esther Havens, Latasha Morrison, Confessions of a Muslim Mom, Tony Evans, Naptime is Sacred, and Grandpa Chan.

When roaming the library, I always try to grab a book or two with characters that don’t look just like us. Check out Here We Read, I Love Books and I Can Not Lie, and The Sweet Pea Girls on Instragram for globally minded suggestions.

What Toys Do the Kids Play With?

Diversifying toys is easy. Our Barbie and baby doll baskets are filled with plastic skin in all shades and eyes in all shapes.

Who Are We Friends With?

The honest answer? Mostly white people. Yes, thankfully, many of those white people have biracial, adoptive families. But, sadly, I’ve never had a deeper than casual friendship on a long-term basis with anyone who didn’t match the hue of my skin color. Lord, please change this.

Being around matching people is easier. You mostly agree, like mostly the same food, dress mostly the same. It’s comforting, until you begin to see others, all others, in all their creative shapes and forms, and realize you are missing out.

I want my kids’ worlds to be wider than mine was. Until college, I was mostly around white people. My interaction with Asians was limited to a couple exchange students.

We’ve been intentional to put our kids in a school with kids of all races and cultures, and thankfully their neighborhood friends are white, African-American and Hispanic. But we want them to see their parents connecting more and more widely, more deeply, to their friends’ parents. Neighbors have taught us to roll tamales and brought us El Salvadorian pupusa, and we have had so much fun. Our prayer is that the people we invite to our table continues to broaden.

Is it weird to pray for Chinese friends? Probably, but I am doing it anyway.

In full disclosure, I deleted this section ten times. This girl who has travelled the world, earned a degree in multicultural education, mothers three children born in China and is fascinated with cultures, is so not cool with my friend status.

What Food Are We Eating?


We love to take our kids to a truly authentic Chinese restaurant, where being white makes you stand out. We love this for our family. We want our taste buds to grow, in a fun way, with the foods we bring in and the eateries we seek out. 


I hope you’ll join me in self-reflection. Let’s consider how our world’s might be too small, what people we might be missing out on, what tastes await us, and what the books we read and the songs we hum might be teaching our kids.

Lord, make us change makers for our kids and our communities.

I’d love to learn from you. If there is a voice you listen to that I should add to my world, please share.

Courage, dear hearts.




One of my favorite things to do each month is to write for No Hands But Ours. I love to write. I love to share. I actually love to sit over coffee with friends and talk — but I find myself in this current season with six children ranging from toddler to teen with little time to do the things that refill me as momma.

But. You are reading this… so this miracle of writing happened — and this… this is holy time for me — so I take great care of the words I pen for you to read. Because I know like me — your time is sacred, these days extra minutes scarce — and to encourage you is a holy privilege.

As I laid in bed way past even my bed time, I prayed through what to write. What your heart might need to hear. My mind quickly shifted to all my week held. And I knew… we all needed this. ”We interrupt this regularly scheduled post on No Hands But Ours…

To remind you.

To ask you…

To hold your hands — move in closer…

to first tell you to breathe… a deep breath in and a deep breath out…

To ask you to take some time today to remember and brainstorm new ways to take care of you — for the sake of you, your marriage, and your family — because in the busy of parenting, advocating and being keepers of our homes we often forget to do the most simple things to care for ourselves.

I found myself this week in the midst of juggling so much more than I personally could handle alone. I homeschool two of my six with a baby on my hip. The other three children go to two different schools between them. My husband traveled all week — and can I just say we missed the bus two of the three mornings he was away?! Can I blame it on a power outage for at least one of those mornings?

I ran more carpools this week than I could (or want to) count.

I taught children at my table by day and flipped flashcards by night.

I heard a baby saying my name over a monitor in middle of the night hours — and rocked her back to sleep… more than a few times.

I scheduled an educational evaluation — and cancelled the educational evaluation after I decided to give it a few more weeks first. You’ve done this too right?

I held it together before a teacher meeting about new strategies to try — and I sat in my driveway and paid the babysitter an extra few minutes longer as I cried behind the wheel.

I texted a friend to let her know this mom gig is no joke… as if she didn’t already know.

The list goes on — and on — and most likely your week looked very similar.

We mommas find ourselves here at the end of a week — or at the beginning of a new one (depending on the perspective that makes your heart the happiest) often times just reminding ourselves to simply… breathe. We champion ourselves to focus just on today because if we think about tomorrow, it really feels like too much.

I want to remind you — who I really believe if you are reading this right now – that the Lord brought you to this quite place some how in the midst of much to remind you of this: you matter.

Did you hear that?

You matter.

I’m here for just a moment to advocate for you — what you need — because you matter so much to the heart for Jesus.

He loves you with an everlasting love.

Yes — you need to take care of you so you can better take care of them… that’s what everyone says and it is good and true. Yes — you need to be rested so you can love all the people from spouse to mouse. But you need to take care of you…

because

you matter.

You are loved.

You are His.

You are the child of the utmost King.

It’s so, so important that right now — if you have forgotten — that you remember. Not for their sake – yes you need to take care of you for them – that’s what we parents keep saying to ourselves. But. More than that — we need to remember our own value in just who we are and take care of us because He loves us and wants us to remember who we are in Him.

This can be so hard to do as we have so many needs in our home and on our calendars so I just want to share some things I have been doing lately that are breathing so much life into my life…

1. Keep a dream journal.

I started this little “dream” journal I keep in my purse (aka diaper bag). I jot down my dreams in it—and when I have a thought that will help me one step closer to that dream, I chicken scratch under it. It can be anything. To make you laugh — my first page, y’all — says “Grow long hair.” I know. I’m 40. But whatever. It’s my secret — now not so secret dream. You are laughing, but when you are taking care of all the people do you really have time to think about things like hair? No. But I had the thought — so I wrote it down.

I may have chicken scratch under this about the inversion method. What you ask? I digress but this young girl on YouTube said if I hang upside down every night and massage my head for four minutes my hair will grow. Hilarious. My middle school son may have come downstairs last week to find me upside down scratching my head, and we belly laughed together like we hadn’t in a long time! He said he didn’t know I cared about my hair, and why would I listen to some young person about that?! Because, well it’s fun. This was a step in the right direction for more than one reason. My kids also need to see that mom takes care of mom no matter how silly it seems!

So my dream journal has funny things, but also big dreams too. Either way, it’s my place to write these down, keep close by so I can jot them down when I think of them –because it can be easy to stop dreaming when your days often feel like you are just holding lots of moving pieces together for everyone else.

2. Reclaiming one thing you loved that you let go.

There once was a time that your days were filled with lots of simple pleasures that you didn’t even realize breathed life into your life — back when you took care of you.

Spend a few days thinking back to what some of those things were that you haven’t had in your life in a long time — and actively invite just one of those simple pleasures back. Maybe you realize, as you invite one thing back, it just doesn’t bring you the rest and joy it once did. If that’s the case, invite something else back until you find that thing you have missed that breathes more life into this unique part of who He created you to be that you forgot about.

It could be something small and so easy to add back! For me — I used to love reading these flea market magazines. Maybe it’s crafting, a sport, exercise, gardening or reading something that has nothing to do with kids, special needs, education, etc. Spend some time reflecting and watch how you breathe easier as you find part of you that you let go without even realizing it.

3. Taking time to physically be still and breathe.

Y’all. This might be the one thing that is really breathing the most life into me right now as I actively focus on doing the thing that is truly the hardest for me — being still.

My “be still” funny of the week — I downloaded this song Weightless researchers said was proven to help you chill — and it was honestly challenging to listen in quiet for all 8 minutes. I listened in the car — and in my fatigue I may have given someone the peace sign at a red light — so maybe don’t listen to it in the car.

Just being still and breathing — resting for 10 minutes in the middle of my day – is helping me refocus before running to another thing. So instead of using that 10 minutes to check social media or email, all of which aren’t going any where, use that 10 minutes between kids activities or waiting on a child in therapy, a sport or carpool to be still. Sit on that bench and just take in God’s creation. Breathe. Refocus and watch how your perspective on your day begins to shift. It sounds simple — but this is really helping me the most right now in our busy.

I pray that some of these things might offer you inspiration to care for yourself.

I pray you find yourself in quite places remembering who you are and seeing your value again and again. I pray you find yourself in new places you had forgotten you could enter — looking at a friend across the table, asking and reminding each other things that challenge you both to remember and keep going.

I pray your cup is filled each day and when you find yourself in hard places where you are the decision maker and advocate, you experience the peace that surpasses all understanding and rest knowing you are not alone — and no matter what you try — He is bigger. He loves the people in your care… but He is absolutely head over heels for you and wants you to feel His care and love as you rise over and over again.

As always — we love to hear from you here at No Hands But Ours — so if there is something that is really breathing new life into you as a busy mom right now — we would love to hear what that is!

(Feel free to leave that inspiration in the comments for others! We need each other and how amazing it is that we get to spur one another on!)

Last fall I was thrilled to learn that a Houston family stepped up to adopt her. Recently, though, the family has faced many financial challenges in the adoption process, including dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey.

I felt compelled to help this family so Audrey can come home as soon as possible. I’m selling my hand-written Chinese calligraphy of a name of your choice (up to five Chinese characters) for $20 dollars which includes a red folder and shipping. I can either translate an English name or do an existing Chinese name (you’ll need to provide a picture of the name, for many Chinese characters have the same pronunciation).

Message me on Facebook (Yih-Pai Chu Lotz) if interested and I’ll give you the order/payment details. All the proceeds will go to Audrey’s family’s matching grant through Lifesong. If you just want to donate to the family, please write a check to Lifesong for Orphans (PO Box 40, Gridley, IL 61744) with the memo: Heinsbroek 7216 (last name and account number).

You can donate online with the same account number and name, but a 2% processing fee will be charged.

Attachment. Not much more could not be packed into one single word, especially in the adoption world.

We spent all of July focusing on this most-important topic and decided to continue into August – but with a bit of a twist.

This month, we’re answering your attachment questions. Because we all have them – we just don’t always have a safe place to ask.

Question:

I’m awaiting LOA for a four year old with significant delays, primarily speech. How best to prepare? Learn Cantonese? Sign? Both? How do I cocoon an almost-five-year-old with three older siblings and their activities and other needs (ages 11, 9, and 7 by then)?

This is a great question and, from what I see in discussion groups, a very common one! I had the very same question before we traveled to adopt our first son from China.

Three China adoptions later and we have picked up a few tips that should ease the transition those first few days, weeks and months as your new child learns English.

1. Use simple signs.

It was amazing to me when we went to adopt our almost-four-year-old son how just a handful of simple signs got us by those first crucial days. I agonized for months over how we would communicate with him and the day we met him, we soon saw how a child his age could pick up little simple signs for water, bathroom, sleep, and eat. We just made up simple signs – like “water” I would pretend to pick up a cup and drink. This was really more of a fly by the seat kind of approach. But hey, it worked for us and worked for our child. You can always check out this post on the top ten ASL signs and learn a few of those before travel. But don’t stress!

Another idea to foster communication is picture cards. A good friend of ours had suggested we take simple picture cards to show our son while saying the English word. So, even before he would know the English word, he could at least point to a picture card depicting what he was trying to communicate. These can be just picture cards with a picture of a child drinking, eating, sleeping or they can also have the English words and even the mandarin translation on them for older children.

Here are some picture cards we sold as a fundraiser, that had been passed down from another China mom. I am including them in this post for anyone to download. Just print them off, laminate at your nearest office supply store, cut, and put on a craft ring for easy storage (craft rings can be purchased in the sewing department of Walmart or any craft store). These cards are wonderful for any age and even for children with delays.

Our second adoption of our daughter brought on more complex issues with communication due to her delays and speech issues. She took more time to pick up on signs and cues, but we just kept it simple, repeated and used a combination of hand gestures and very simple speech.

These kids are going through so much transition at the time of adoption that simple is the best way to go. Overall I think this is one of the things I thought would be our biggest struggle and it turned out to be a lot less complicated than I thought.

Never underestimate the power of just lovingly providing for you newly adopted child’s needs with gentle touch, offering food and playing games with eye contact, and lots of one-on-one attention those first few weeks in country. This loving behavior speaks loudest to your new child. He or she will soon feel safe in your presence and this makes the best foundation on which to grow your relationship.

2. Cocoon.

So with each adoption we did practice cocooning. This did look a little different each time, depending on that child’s needs, but overall we took the same approach.

When doing this with our first son we realized pretty quickly how effective it was and so that gave us the motivation and the dedication to practice with the next two children who came into our family through adoption.

• Keep their world small.

This means immediate family only (mom dad, brothers and sisters). After that initial big airport homecoming where friends and family welcomed our new child home we traveled home and allowed very few visitors that first month. Grandparents were allowed to come by for a short visit, but were instructed that they could not hold, coddle, or feed our newly adopted child. This is so beneficial for those first days and weeks that your child see the structure of a family and learn what a family is!

• Get me out of the house!

Outings were kept to a minimum. We did need to get out after that initial first week so we would take little trips to Target or the grocery store. If you’re like me, I start to get cabin fever and just a little break to the outside world can work wonders! We did not do multiple errand type trips, we kept it to a minimum as to not over stimulate our new child.

Our son had horrible night terrors the first months home. We noticed on days we did too much he would have night terrors the worst. Remember, everything is so very new to them and the way their over-stimulated minds processes a lot of this new can result in fits of rage, crying, night terrors, and just over all shock.

3. Share the load in caring for your other kids.

We found that trading off between my husband and I on duties with our other kids worked best for us. If one child had baseball practice, one of us would take that child and the other would stay at home with the newly adopted child. This cut down on our adopted child being over-stimulated and tired out.

This is a perfect time to call on your “village” of friends and family members and ask for help with carpool and activities for your other children. Don’t let that mama guilt creep in and start to feel bad for not being able to do it all.

You cannot be everywhere and do it all.

Keep your focus on that new child’s needs, and communicate this with your other kids that this is just for a small window of time. Remind them that they are loved and adored. I find that our kids learn a lot about sacrifice and doing for others through adoption. We can certainly never have enough of that in this world today.

Over all, cocooning can look very different for each family. It can look different for each child depending on their needs. Look to your newly adopted child for cues on how they deal with the outside world and new situations.

If you see signs of over stimulation and meltdowns – then you know to pull back. This is not a one-size-fits-all situation. Try a simple outing, and if it doesn’t go well then you know you need to go back to keeping that child’s world small.

Good luck and happy adoption journey!

– images by Tish Goff

Rini, our youngest of six children, was adopted in August of 2013 at end stage heart failure stemming from complex, single ventricle congenital heart disease. She was admitted to the hospital immediately upon arrival home and within two weeks it was determined that she was inoperable, her only hope would come through cardiac transplant. She was initially found to be ineligible, but that would change thanks to a heart failure/transplant program that chose to take a chance on hope and optimism.

Much as we owe her life to the sacrifice made by her birth family in letting her go, we also owe it to the incredible, selfless act of organ donation made by a family in the midst of the incomprehensible loss of their child.

This series is a retrospective of the weeks leading up to Rini’s transplant which took place on November 13, 2013, and it is my hope that it will help to bring awareness to the importance of registering to be an organ and tissue donor.

We all have the power to be someone else’s miracle.

Donate Life!

From October 24th, 2016

On this day three years ago, Rini was officially listed for transplant. What an unbelievable moment that was for us! When Rini joined our family at end stage heart failure and was deemed inoperable, there was so little we could offer her. Hope was something we could offer, and that would come from transplant.

From my journal:

“Just about an hour ago at 3:00, the transplant coordinator arrived with the wonderful news that they are in possession of the official approval of transplant coverage from our insurance company, and she went over the forms for us to sign indicating our understanding of the transplant listing process. Eric said that he still can’t believe that we are here, in this space at this moment!

We talked and talked, and then we asked when Rini would be officially listed, and she said within half an hour of her leaving our room and going to her computer. We were like, “Well… GO!”

So as of this moment as I am typing, Rini is newly listed! She is listed 1A in Region 6. Because of her listing at the most critical status, her new heart will most likely come from this region since donor hearts are first offered to those at Status 1A within the region of the heart’s origin. However, a donor heart may come from outside of the region, from as far away as two thousand miles.

She told us all the details, and how they determine travel time by the winds aloft, how one of the transplant surgeons and nurses will travel by Leer jet to the hospital where the donor is, and will travel back with the heart. The elapsed time between clamping in the donor’s body to unclamping within the recipient’s can be no longer than 5-6 hours, no more than 3.5 hours of flight time, time for ground transport…. so much to think about, so many complex emotions.”

The intubation and the addition of more cardiac medications appeared to produce the desired effect. Rini was heavily sedated, and her heart was resting. For the first time ever, we saw her heart rate in the 120s. Her transplant cardiologists said that waiting a bit for a heart might be to her benefit, as they were very concerned about her weight and malnutrition. Her lowered heart rate, reduced work of breathing, and sedation would most likely assist her in gaining over the next weeks and months, which would give her reserves for the work of healing if she was a heart recipient. 

Rini fooled us all. We thought she the luxury of time. How wrong we were.

From October 25th, 2016

On this day three years ago, I headed home to Oregon while Eric began his first two-week stretch at the hospital with Rini. Her sedation was lifted to check her responses to stimuli, and Eric sent me a photo so that I could see my baby’s eyes. Soon she began thrashing, so she was once again more heavily sedated. 

Before I left, we went to a local store and picked out birthday decorations so that he could dress up Rini’s room for her special day two days later. It was important to me that her birthday be celebrated, even though she would not be conscious of it, and I felt desperately sad that I would not be there. When your child is so sick and survival is very uncertain, acknowledging each milestone takes on a particular importance.

I was also fueled by a determination to memorialize each step in her life so that I could share it with her when she grew up. And right there was that push-pull, that agonizing dance of alternately preparing for her death while planning for her future.

From my journal:

“It feels like it is either twilight or early dawn, and I don’t know which yet. The fall leaves are at their glory right now and as I admired our maples, I was hit yet again with that piercing realization that she isn’t here to enjoy this beautiful time of year, and how desperately I want her to make it through this and be home with us for next year’s autumn.”

From October 26th, 2016

On this day three years ago, Eric called me to tell me that the nursing team was preparing to move Rini to a different room. When Eric asked the reason, he was told, “We move beds here, we move beds there. We do this all the time.” Well, I wasn’t buying it. I kept picking on this topic throughout the day when Eric and I would talk, and then finally that evening, after Rini was settled into room 218, her nurse told him, “It’s because we want her as close as possible to the nursing station.” They also positioned her bed so that her head was closest to the room’s entrance.

At first I was perplexed as to why her caretakers did not simply say what was on their minds, which in this case would have been, “We are concerned that your daughter is going to go into cardiac arrest, and we want her in close proximity to us and positioned in such a way as to better facilitate life saving measures.” But as our time in the hospital stretched from days to weeks to months, I learned to read between the lines and came to understand that much is communicated in what is not said. I also came to appreciate why they often hold back from sharing certain information until their hands are forced.

Caretakers in an Intensive Care Unit have a tough job, and I don’t just mean caring for some of the most fragile children. I mean dealing with some of the most difficult parents. After witnessing firsthand how challenging and sometimes outright abusive families can be towards their child’s doctors and nurses, I have even more respect for the medical profession. After observing parents falling apart and teetering on the edge of hysteria (and sometimes going over the cliff) over relatively minor issues and becoming confrontational towards the very people attempting to save their children’s lives, I completely get why the doctors and nurses do not inform parents each and every time they are going to make an adjustment here and an adjustment there, or even when they have larger concerns but do not have empirical evidence of where the child may land. I had the experience of getting to know a mother whose daughter was admitted with heart failure, and whose take on the situation was that “…. my daughter is perfectly fine. They just want to cut on her.” Can you imagine trying to perform your job as a cardiac critical care nurse or cardiologist when confronted with that?

Eric and I learned a long time ago that medicine is as much art as it is science, and that when treating children with complex conditions, very rarely is there a roadmap. That was a jarring lesson to learn, and looking back I see that at one time I did believe that excellent doctors always knew the answer. It’s easy to default to the “they-must-be-incompetent” frame of mind when they don’t. Sometimes, there just isn’t an answer.

We did our best to remain levelheaded, and in my opinion there is no excuse for treating another human being with disrespect, no matter how stressed a person is. We wanted to be partners with Rini’s caretakers, to cooperate with and be welcomed as a vital part of her team. After we approached them and explained that we understood that sharing their thoughts with us did not equate to a commitment or a promise that the plan would yield the results we hoped for, more was shared. We came to enjoy an open dialogue and loved how we were embraced as collaborators in Rini’s care, listened to and respected during rounds, and consulted with. We developed a genuine affection for those who continue to care for her to this day.

October 26th, 2013 was also the day on which I began to obsess over all things related to Rini being listed for transplant. It became unhealthy, as it was symptomatic of my wanting to find some way to control the outcome. That was not sustainable and I would be forced to learn to let go.

Walking with Rini during that time was when I learned what faith is.

From October 27th, 2016

On this day three years ago, a very brave little girl turned 2 years old. The night before, Eric had texted me photos of the decorations he had placed on the outside of Rini’s room so that all who passed by could share in the celebration. When I picture my husband lovingly taping up her banner and other celebratory trappings, my eyes fill with tears thinking of him giving what he could to his daughter.

He had also gone to a local bakery and ordered her cake, which he placed in the ICU family lounge with a note asking the other parents to help us celebrate by enjoying a piece. And because he knew that I’d want an Asian princess on her cake, he had taken a black Sharpie to the blond figurine’s hair.

Rini’s scheduled medications were up to 14, and her p.r.n. meds were up to five. She tested positive for Haemophilus Influenzae which she was being treated for, and was receiving blood transfusions in order to maintain her hematocrit to improve her renal NIRS and tissue oxygen delivery. Rini’s feeding tolerance continued to worsen, she was switched to full TPN and intralipids nutrition, and she was characterized as “challenging to manage” in regards to fluids. I was used to seeing my children post cardiac surgery with many lines and illuminated medication towers, but as time went on, the entanglement grew less. With Rini, her decline was illustrated by its increase.

From my journal:

“Yesterday, they moved Rini from room 203 to 218, and every shift she will have a nurse that is unpaired (in other words, the nurse will only have Rini as her patient for the entire shift). The team is still working on stabilizing her for the wait. Finding the right balance of feeds, fluids, diuretics, and the cocktail of medications she is on remains challenging, and today they defined her status as “still fragile”. The hope is that they will be able to find that balance where she can remain and gain weight.

Although I have fought it since Wednesday, I have caved into the temptation to obsess over her transplant listing. There is a database patients and families can go to where you can see how many other children are listed in the UNOS regions and set up search parameters to include age, listing status, accrued wait times, blood type, etc. As I felt solace to see for myself what her team had commented on regarding her being the only child listed in her weight class and with her blood type, I concurrently felt morbid in my relief given the hard truth of where a healthy heart will come from. Eric and I are both struggling with being in this space.

And as our third official day of waiting comes to a close, I was struck by how in many respects it feels like when we were waiting for our first child referral from China back in 2006, with obvious differences of course. But the reality that we have gained five of our children only through other families’ losses resonates.

On the home front, I can feel that my relationship with our other children has changed. I am now feeling that I am becoming the mother I have wanted to be. Bluntly, I am far more patient. I am relishing every hug and smile, and tonight after bath time I found myself smiling and enjoying the process of rubbing lotion onto their little feet and faces, clipping their nails, and brushing their hair. What I wouldn’t give to be able to do those things for Rini right now, and to be able to hold her close and hear her voice. Eric said to me that he is determined to “make this time count”, and I couldn’t agree more. Although it sounds counterintuitive, the stress has, I believe, brought about a new clarity.

I am grateful to have the most steadfast and true friends that I am able to turn to with my most painful feelings, my guilt, regrets, and my desperation. And how fortunate I am to be surrounded by wise women who share their experiences and perspectives. A few days ago, a friend who is in a similar situation counseled me to find my peace with letting Rini go. It reminded me of when I posted my disagreement with the idea that “life equals winning and death equals losing”. Her words were of such comfort because on that very day, I had come to a place where I realized that I have to let go and find a place of acceptance with whatever is to come. With that came some guilt, as though by embracing the idea that Rini still wins in death (after all, she will be in Heaven if that occurs), I was giving up the fight.

I am not giving up the fight, but rather understanding that I am not in control.

I can advocate for her the best I can, and those caring for her can do their utmost, but in the end, it will be what it will be. And I firmly believe that my role will be to find some type of meaning and even if I am not able to find it, to have the faith that meaning exists.”

I prayed that Rini could feel our love for her on her special day. Happy Birthday, my sweet baby.

All of our children our special, but some of us know just how hard it is having extra special kids. Anyone who has adopted, whether your child was listed as having special needs or not, knows what it’s like to parent an atypical and often difficult child.

Sometimes it is just plain hard.

Whether your special children were born to you or chosen by you, whether you knew they would have needs or those needs came as a shock, it is hard to be the parent of a child with special needs. Rewarding too of course –
Fully of mystery, uncertainty, anxiety, joy, fear, excitement, and tears both happy and sad. Full of sleepless nights and exhausted days, full of pride and pain you never anticipated. Full of stretching and growth you never asked for, but are blessed that you received.

Though it sounds cliché, these special children of ours make us better people. They remind us what is truly important in life, what real success is, and and what is worth valuing in this world that seems to have lost sight of what matters.

Our journey into the world of special needs began with our second biological son and led us to our adopted son four years later.

As our second biological son neared two years old, we started to notice differences between his development and his then four year old brothers. He was born with a cleft palate and needed an operation at six weeks old, and possibly subsequent operations in the future. As a result we knew he would require speech therapy as well as have other health issues.

When he was two and not speaking we began therapy with a wonderful speech and language pathologist who helped us communicate with and understand Micah. Additionally, she expressed concerns about his social interactions and sensory issues. I had never even heard of sensory issues at this point in my life.

We placed our son in occupational therapy to deal with some of those challenges which had begun increasing in severity. Our OT was a blessing from above. She had grown up with a brother on the autism spectrum and, while unable to to diagnose Micah, she was open in sharing her concerns.

After many doctors visits, long waits and eventual psychological testing, Micah was diagnosed with autism at two and a half years old. It was both a time of relief and grief. Relief to know what was behind his differences and difficulties, but also grief that this was going to affect our son and his life and our lives forever and we weren’t quite sure how. Often late at night after an emotional day my husband or I would go lay in bed beside Micah and cry, pray or sleep.

We were so thankful he was with us and we knew he would somehow be ok… but a diagnosis feels like a loss when it is first received, and should be treated and mourned as one. Life as you thought it would go is changing, the terrain is no longer what you expected it would be and though in hindsight you will look back and see the beauty, in the moment it is important to let your heart grieve the losses that change can bring.

Grieving, understanding and dealing with the daily ups and downs of autism has and continues to be a challenge for me. However, it equipped me in a way that I never expected for adoption. My husband and I had discussed adoption ever since we first married. We wanted to have a biological child first and we ended up having three in three years. Once our children got a little older and we had been navigating the life of special needs parents for two years, we felt like God had equipped us to add to our plate. Our old dreams of adoption began resurfacing.

Our youngest was three and we didn’t want a large age gap between our kids, so be decided to pray, asking God what he wanted for us, and doors quickly began to open.

Just as everything in our lives so far, the doors that opened were different than we expected. Three months into beginning our paperwork we were asked if we were interested in viewing a file of a three year old boy on our agency’s China Waiting Child List. The list is composed of children who have special needs and whose paperwork has already been processed; they are essentially waiting for someone to adopt them. We had seen him on the website before and we said yes we would be interested in viewing the file.

Elijah had been diagnosed with cerebral palsy, however very little information was given and we were uncertain if we could walk or talk. We sent some questions to the orphanage, waited for a response and prayed. CP was a bigger need than we originally thought we would be able to handle, however some of our dear friends had a son the same age as Elijah who had recently been diagnosed with mild CP – through them we had gained a much better understanding of what the diagnosis could entail.

We were already familiar with speech therapy, occupational therapy, and physical therapy – the therapies that many children with CP need. We were a part of the public school special education system and versed in IEPs, legal rights, and advocacy.

We were scared, but we were equipped. God had used our son Micah to open our eyes to a whole new aspect of life. We felt that since we were already doing these things with one child we could do it with another as well. We knew that many needs or services that may overwhelm some people, understandably, were old hat to us.

It became a question of why wouldn’t we and how couldn’t we adopt a child with special needs because we knew that God had already given us what we needed to follow him in obedience.

Micah had set in motion something that we never in our wildest dreams guessed we would be able to handle… two children with special needs.

Both of our boys have shown us the beauty of the broken. I love the quote by songwriter Leonard Cohen that says, “There is a crack in everything, that is how the light gets in”.

Life as a special needs mom is rarely easy, but we are learning that easy doesn’t mean better, and every day we have a choice to look for the light breaking in through the cracks.

“We are very fond of Chinese culture.”

It was a statement I wrote sitting at a table in Nanjing, Jiangsu China on one of the many documents we signed in order to adopt our son in 2015.

I promised to love him and protect him. I promised never to harm him or abuse him. And these were true down to my core.

But Chinese culture? I mean, I liked Panda Express, and I think I read a book by Amy Tan a few years prior… but stating that I had a love for Chinese culture was a bit of a stretch.

Did learning some children’s songs in Mandarin count?

Reflecting on that time now, I see that I was so immersed in adoption trainings, attachment books, and paperwork that I didn’t take the time to learn more about China.

Throughout that trip though, actually experiencing our new son’s birth culture did prove to be fascinating. I’d never seen people in the United States painting characters on the sidewalk with water.

I’d never jumped in with a group of older people doing Tai Chi in the park.

I’d never seen beautiful temples in America.

For two weeks, I was immersed in a world so very different from my own.

Upon returning home, I reflected on what birth culture actually meant. And when we adopted a second time, I was far more mindful of bringing back pieces of China that would be meaningful reminders for our boys one day.

It’d been a little over two years since our first adoption trip, and in that time, we have been proactive about bringing Chinese culture into our family through gatherings with other adoptive families, learning about Chinese holidays, listening to Chinese music, and cooking Chinese dishes often. Our most recent endeavor to weave Chinese culture into our home was to host a short-term Chinese exchange student.

A little background… several years ago, our local high school partnered with a school in Qingdao. The sister schools regularly communicate, and they have had students travel to China and vice versa. A few weeks ago, students from our sister school in China traveled to the United States to sightsee and to visit our high school. For four days, we added kiddo number six to our family, a 15 year old boy I’ll call LZH from Qingdao.

We had talked about the possibility of hosting an exchange student for a semester or for a school year in the future, so this was an excellent opportunity to “try out” hosting a student and get a feel for how it would impact our family.

During their visit to our town, the Chinese students were offered opportunities to mingle with our high school students and participate in fun activities such as laser tag, mini golf, go carts, and a bike tour. They also got to experience first hand what an American family is like.

During his first night here, LZH went to the neighbor’s house with our 15 and 13 year olds to play volleyball. They all returned to our house where we made s’mores. Then kids from neighboring back yards jumped on our trampoline with LZH and played corn hole.

A couple of younger ones showed up to toss the baseball back and forth. Meanwhile, another neighbor was hosting a barbecue, and another had a violin concert going on in her back yard. Our kids stayed out later than usual with LZH to show him the fireflies they caught. I’m not sure we could have given LZH a more picturesque version of a summer night in suburban America.

We broke the ice by asking him general questions about his hometown and his school. Our children were shocked to learn that LZH left for school at 6:00 am and returned at 10:30 pm. “When do you get to see your mom?” our concerned 7 year old asked later during his visit.

We learned about his family. His dad is a business owner, and he has a sister with three year old twin boys. Whew! This was actually one concern I had for this poor fellow… coming from his quiet home into our loud, rambunctious house. He adjusted quite well though, and by the end of his visit, he was laughing loudly at the kids’ antics and joining right in with them.

LZH politely excused himself again to go his room. I joked with my husband that he’s probably thinking, “Stop badgering me already!” We were just so eager to learn all we could about Qingdao, his school, and his life. He came back quickly to give us another gift. This time it was some jelly-like candies in paper pouches. My husband, who works in innovation for a food company, was intrigued about the snack, and he asked LZH to translate what was written on the package.

I dropped LZH off for a scheduled school activity for a few hours, and after dinner, the girls (13 and 7) and I took him shopping. We were told by the school coordinators that the children really like to shop in America. They suggested places like TJ Maxx, Marshall’s, Kohl’s and the mall. We began our trip by hitting Marshall’s. Even with our limited communication, it didn’t take very long to figure out his goal: Nike and Adidas on the cheap. I laughed to myself thinking about how I stressed over what gifts to take to officials and orphanage staff on our adoption trips. We tried to find things local that represented our town in Ohio. In reality, I see now that these would have been welcomed as well.

LZH explained that the shirts he bought for $15-20 at Marshall’s would have been well over $100 each in China. We set out for Kohl’s next where he sought more Nike and Adidas clothing, and then I helped him pick out some sneakers. During check out, we saw some of his teachers from China shopping as well. This was a big highlight of the trip! They were able to load their closets with the latest styles for far less cost than they could in China. When we talked about it on the way home, I told LZH about the electronics market we visited in Guangzhou. My husband and teen son went there multiple times on our last trip.

They come here and buy clothes. We go there and buy electronics. In fact, we needed to purchase an extra suitcase for the trip home in order to bring our spoils home. I totally understood the excitement of all our Chinese visitors!

That night, I had planned on making a Chinese meal for LZH. It was a risk, as my Asian meal repertoire is pretty limited. Plus, we had been told to cook what we would normally make for dinner so that the kids experienced the American culture.

However, with 40% of our kids being Chinese, I DO cook Chinese food pretty regularly for our transracial family, so I went with it. And I’m so glad I did. This was a big turning point in LZH’s comfort level in our home. He eagerly asked to help cook when I told him we would have Chinese food. Again, to bridge the language barrier, I simply handed him a measuring spoon and an ingredient and said, “Two” or “Four.” He seemed to take pride in helping cook for our family. He happily went back for seconds. I did ask if the frozen Ling Ling frozen potstickers were good, and he said, “Yes!” (Maybe he was just being polite, but he did eat several!)

We made another shopping trip with LZH and our 15 year old son to the mall that evening.

He enjoyed all the riding around, as he got to see things that were new to him. “What’s that?” he asked as we passed a flock of geese around a pond. “Everything is green,” he said as we drove by fields of corn and farms with barns. Again, it was an opportunity for him to explain to the kids (through a lot of Google Translate) the difference between here and where he lives in Qingdao.

I think maybe the highlight of the trip was his last night at our house when the kids brought the Plasma cars in. Our 7 year old told him to ride it, and he said, “No, too big.” I then hopped on one and showed him how to fly through the kitchen on it. All the kids squealed and laughed as our 15 year old pushed LZH through the house on the tiny car. It made me wish we had a few more days with him… he was just starting to really open up.

“They are very fond of Chinese culture.”

It’s what LZH posted on his blog after he left our family.

It made me happy to know that he had such a great time visiting, but this is what really affirmed our efforts to honor our children’s birth culture.

It’s not just an empty statement anymore. We are actively trying to make our house a fusion of China and America. Is this our best effort? Maybe for now, it is, but we are constantly trying to incorporate more Chinese culture into our lives.

I love a good magazine. There is nothing more satisfying to me than wiggling my toes in the sand, taking in a beautiful sunny day, and flipping through the latest home trends.

However, just a few years ago I realized there was a mental magazine I had subscribed to that had become quite poisoning to my way of thinking.

It all started in my mid-twenties. I was recently out of college and married and was trying to “shop” for what Christian lifestyle seemed to best “fit” me. I began mentally flipping through a “catalog” in my head of people I either knew personally or through their books, blogs, or documentaries. I believed the lie that my own personality, gifts, and talents were pretty boring so I thought it would be best to try and browse for someone else’s life.

On one page of my mental catalog I found a family I know who intentionally moved into the projects in Tennessee to minister to others. Another page showed a family who has fostered and adopted 15 kids. Further into the catalog I found a couple who moved to a jungle across the world with their young children to teach the villagers about Jesus.

Another page showed a husband and wife who sold their nice house to move closer to international students and invite them in their home so they could share the gospel.

Page after page after page in my head highlighted the way others have moved, fostered, adopted, minimized, given, and started ministries. For a full decade I had been mentally “trying on” these different ways of following Jesus to see which one worked best for our family.

When I hit my mid-thirties something seemed to click. God showed me that although it is fine to look at others for inspiration to gain ideas, there is no cookie cutter lifestyle that fits all Christians. Although my gifts and talents may not seem glamorous, He has uniquely created me. We each have our own educational background, financial situation, family history, spiritual gifts, and personality that allow us to play a small part in His very big glorious story.

Right now what that looks like for me is simply discipling the three children He has given my husband and me. It is not a very public assignment. It looks more like snuggling in the bed together and reading a book about a Christian hero, or taking the time to talk and listen and teach when someone has been hurt by a friend, or sharing our highs and lows of the day around a table of homemade goodies. Nothing about my life is flashy and “front cover” material, but that doesn’t mean it is not essential.

I am doing exactly what God has asked me to do and that makes it the most important assignment of all.

Satan is described in the Bible as the father of lies. He loves for us to look at ourselves, declare our unique gifting worthless, and then to try to squeeze ourselves into another person’s assignment.

In the adoption community, we especially need to be careful to find our lane and run our race. Whether God has called us to adopt and love one child with minor special needs or adopt eight children with major medical needs, we simply need to focus on what He has asked us to do and not compare.

We have to stop feeling that because our life doesn’t fit one of the items in the “catalog” it is unimportant. God has invited us into the amazing privilege of joining Him and His kingdom work. I love how Ephesians 2:10 says “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Maybe the lyrics of this old hymn summarize it best:

Let’s fix our eyes on Jesus today and stop shopping for the lives of others.

Whether your assignment seems big and glamorous or small and private, it’s what you do with it that matters. Let’s trash the catalog of comparison and embrace the role God has called us into for His amazing, unbelievable, definitely front cover worthy, never-ending story.

Anna Grace is five years old.
She loves all things Disney and princesses.
Her favorite outings are to the zoo, museum, or playground.
She takes dance class and swimming lessons.
When she grows up, she wants to be a doctor, dance teacher, singer, or dog trainer.
She loves playing outside with her friends, especially if they’re climbing trees or playing in dirt.
She would happily skip dinner to have ice cream – chocolate with rainbow sprinkles.
And she plans on being a unicorn for Halloween.

Sounds like any normal five year old girl. And, in almost every way, Anna Grace is absolutely a normal five year old girl.

There’s just one thing that makes her a little different. And she doesn’t really see it as different; but many people do. Anna Grace wears a prosthetic leg. She was born missing part of her left leg. So, shortly after coming home from China, she was fitted with a prosthetic. And with her prosthetic, she can do anything that other kids can do… aside from wiggle 10 toes! She runs, jumps, climbs, dances, flips, swims…pretty much no limits.

Living with a prosthetic is just a way of life for us. And most days – aside from the extra step involved getting her dressed in the morning – I don’t even think about her leg. But it’s a very visible difference. So while it’s totally normal for us, it’s not always normal for other people.

I think that I notice the stares, points, and whispers more now. And I think that I probably notice them more because Anna Grace notices them. When she was younger, she was relatively oblivious. She was more interested in chasing butterflies or creating chaos to care if someone was looking at her leg. And while she still has the corner marking on creating chaos, she’s five-and-a-half now, so she’s much more socially aware. She notices if people are staring.

She gets uncomfortable if other kids make a big deal about her leg. She gets upset sometimes when it’s drawn to her attention that she’s different. In every way (other than wearing a prosthetic leg), she’s just like every other kid.

And she wants to be like every other kid.

Anna Grace started kindergarten this year. For the past three years, she attended the same private preschool. This year, she started a new school with new children. And she had a lot of anxiety this summer about school. For months, she claimed that she was going to be a “kindergarten drop out”, and she insisted that she was going to stay in pre-K.

One day, while talking about her kindergarten reluctance, Anna Grace burst into tears and said, “I’m just so nervous that I won’t have any friends at school!” I reminded her about all of her great friends, and I assured her that she’s a very fun girl who makes friends easily. “But mama – these kids don’t know me. What if no one wants to be friends with the girl with one leg? Why can’t I just have two legs like everyone else?”

I held my sweet girl as she cried, and I silently added some of my own tears. I knew the day was coming.

Even though Anna Grace is typically a ridiculously confident little girl, and even though she usually “owns” her prosthetic leg, she’s moving toward the age where kids start to notice differences more. And she doesn’t always want to be different.

Children are curious, and they often ask questions about things that are new or that they don’t understand. Believe me, Anna Grace is the queen of this! And I’m all for supporting their curiosity and giving them answers to help them understand. I know that Anna Grace’s leg looks a little different, and other children want to know what it is. I have equipped Anna Grace to answer “What’s that?” questions with “It’s my prosthetic”. Most kids are satisfied with that answer and move on.

But some kids want to know more (understandably). Depending on her mood, Anna Grace might share more. Or she might cross her arms and huff, “Just stop talking about it.” And here’s where the real challenge comes for me. I don’t want to hush other children and stop them from asking questions (as long as they’re not being rude). But I also don’t want to put my own child in an uncomfortable situation and force her to share more than she wants to. I try my best to help Anna Grace feel proud of her leg so that when questions come up, she can respond with confidence. But I would get tired of hearing ten times a day, “What are those?” as people pointed to my glasses. So I know the questions get old to her sometimes.

Before kindergarten started this year, I had a conversation with Anna Grace’s teacher about how to best address her physical difference with the other children in her class. I was torn. Part of me felt like maybe I should proactively go into the classroom to help explain about her prosthetic to the other children: read them a book, show them one of her legs, and answer their questions. But part of me wondered if, by going into the classroom, I would be making bigger deal about her leg than it would’ve been with the kids otherwise. I didn’t want to draw a lot of attention to Anna Grace’s difference if the other kindergartners didn’t pay attention to it. Sometimes her larger than life personality is noticed long before her leg! My main priority was to make sure that Anna Grace felt confident and safe in her interactions with the other children regarding her leg.

Her teacher and I came to a mutual decision to give it a few weeks to see how the children would play things out. I shared with her teacher some of the answers I give to children so she could help answer basic questions. And we agreed that, if it seemed like the kids were asking more questions than her answers could satisfy, then we would make arrangements for me to visit the classroom.

We also talked to Anna Grace and explained to her that, if she ever felt uncomfortable in an interaction with another child, she could go to her teacher and say, “I need help”, and her teacher would immediately come to her assistance. This seemed to set Anna Grace at ease, and she was much less reluctant about going to school following this brief meeting with her teacher.

School has now been in session for three weeks, and no one has mentioned any issues to me. I’ve asked Anna Grace if any of the kids have said anything about her leg. She told me that one little girl always says, “Wow – awesome!” when looking at the princesses on her leg. But she hasn’t talked about any negative or uncomfortable situations. When kindergarten dismisses for the day, I see Anna Grace happily running around and playing with all of her new friends. And when we walk to school in the morning, she’s usually skipping along, chatting, and holding hands with another new friend.

The children either haven’t noticed, haven’t cared, or have noticed and moved beyond something that looks different on the outside to just pay attention to the super fun and friendly girl who happens to own a cool leg.

Even though it’s challenging for Anna Grace to deal with being different at times, most of the time, she handles herself with confidence, grace, and wisdom far beyond her five years. Over the summer, we were vacationing in Florida, and Anna Grace made a new little friend at the pool. They were playing mermaids. I watched them splash and play for a few minutes, and then I heard Anna Grace say, “Look how I can flip my fin!” I knew that she was about to hop out of the water, and I watched closely to see how things would go from here. As Anna Grace climbed out of the pool and perched on the edge, the little girl gasped and said, “Oh my gosh! What happened to your foot?”

Anna Grace quickly answered, “Oh, it’s okay. I just got a little scrape on it!” (Clearly referring to her real foot.)

“No, but your foot is like… not there!” said the little girl.

“That’s because my mom took my leg off to dry. It’s over there on the chair.”

“Wait – your leg is in a chair??”

“Yeah, it’s my prosthetic.”

“Why do you have that?”

“Because I had a funky toe, so the doctor cut it off, and Mr. Rob made me my princess leg so I can run fast and jump high. It’s just the way God made me. Now, are we going to play mermaids or what?”

And Anna Grace dove into the water.

The other little girl looked shocked for a brief moment as she processed this conversation. But as she watched Anna Grace swim happily away, she jumped in the water after her, and the mermaid game continued without another thought.

I pray that Anna Grace will always keep her spunk, spirit, and confidence. She is an amazingly wonderful, beautiful, determined, perfect little girl. Her physical difference is always going to be part of who she is – and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Her prosthetic only makes her extra special in my eyes.

As her mother, I feel like it’s my job to help her embrace everything that makes her special and different.
To help her realize that everyone has things that make them different.
To empower her when interacting with others.
To build her confidence.
To help ensure that her inner voice is always louder and stronger that what she might hear from the world.

And to sear into her heart, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

– guest post by Wynne

Recently someone reached out to ask what I would tell a group of Boy Scouts if I could speak to them as a special needs mom. This friend, who works everyday as a speech therapist, had been invited to speak to a local Boy Scout troop about interacting with children with special needs.

Upon reading her message, a flood of thoughts raced through my mind.

What would I share?
What would I want that group of young men to know about children like the precious son who ushered me into the world of special needs parenting?

Unbeknownst to us, the future was closer than we could imagine.

Within two weeks, I had the file in my email inbox of a heart-melting, smiley, little boy who lived in an orphanage in China. Brennan, his American advocacy name, was four years old and had lived his entire life in an orphanage. He was amongst the first twenty files to be prepared for a new agency partnership at his orphanage.

Oh, his precious smiling face!

I could see in the file photo that something seemed different about his ear. What I did not anticipate was opening his file to discover photos of a right upper limb difference as well.

This little boy, whom I had quickly become so attached to right through my computer screen, had been born with left microtia and atresia and a right upper limb difference.

Microtia literally means “small ear”. Brennan had been born with an underdeveloped left outer ear, no middle ear (ear canal), and only small portions of the incus, malleus, and stapes (the three ear bones). Thankfully, he had a functional cochlea and nerve. This meant that although he could not hear from his left ear, he was a candidate for a BAHA (bone anchored hearing aid) so that he would be able to achieve bilateral hearing.

Shortly after bringing Brennan home from China, we visited an ENT doctor and an audiologist. Brennan was scheduled for an implant surgery for the post that the BAHA attaches to. That surgical procedure was honestly a breeze in the grand scheme of surgeries, and we began the wait for “osseo-integration”. In regular terms, we were waiting for Brennan’s bone to harden around the implanted titanium post. Six months later, our son had two hearing “ears”, one in the form of a BAHA.

Although we were thrilled for our son to have bilateral hearing, a device attached to the side of one’s head wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. In public, we noticed looks. Now they were not only at Brennan’s arm, but also at his new hearing aid. Some folks were brave enough to actually ask… usually whether or not Brennan’s device was a cochlear implant since those are much more widely known. At times over the past five years, Brennan or my other children would tell me that a child had made an unkind remark about Brennan’s ear or arm. Thankfully that has largely been the exception and not the norm.

As Christian parents, my husband and I strive to instill the truth in our children that they are wonderfully created. We want them to understand their value in light of the loving Father who knit them together in their biological mothers’ wombs.

For the past five years my “momma mantra” to Brennan has been, “I love you as you are. How the Lord created you is just right to me. I don’t see anything physically ‘wrong’ with you, only a physical difference, and that certainly doesn’t affect my love for you.” Within the past couple years, he once asked for a bigger left ear. If, as he continues to grow and develop into a young man, this remains a priority to him, we’ll support his decision for surgery and assist him with having the surgery.

My son’s ear and arm are not “weird” nor are they “gross”. Rather, he is a joyful, loyal, and selfless boy who happens to look different than most other people. I also charged my friend to encourage the Boy Scout group to introduce themselves and engage, if appropriate, with children they meet who have disabilities. Then they can kindly and respectfully ask the questions they have about the physical differences because, let’s be honest, kids are curious by nature and learn by asking questions. I have seen over and over that if my son feels respected rather than threatened, he will willingly answer the questions that help others understand and process his differences.

Lastly, I encouraged her to tell these Boy Scouts to include children with physical differences in whatever it is they are doing. My son is much like other kids. He wants to be included and given the opportunity to participate. He wants to be “just another kid”. And who knows, in having a friend who’s different, it just might help you learn to see and do something in a way you’ve never thought of before.

As a parent, having a child with a conspicuous physical difference has certainly given me a new way to see. Most days I am blessed to witness this child I adore learning to accomplish things in his own way. Determination and problem solving skills are a part of our daily life. I rarely tell my son “no” to trying new, reasonable experiences because he sees accomplishing that task in a way that my eyes usually don’t.

Sometimes in life, a vision adjustment can come in the most unexpected ways.

How thankful I am for the vision adjustment that the Lord saw fit to bring into my life through a little boy born half a world away!

– guest post Mika

Jamie, 4, is an active, smiley, energetic young boy who enjoys outdoor play, games, music, and toy trains. Jamie also enjoys helping out with the younger children. The orphanage describes him as a big brother to the other kids. Jamie has good self-care skills. He can use the bathroom, wash his hands, clean up, and get dressed and undressed without help. He has both bowel and bladder control. Jamie’s fine and gross motor skills seems to be on track. He can walk, jump, skip, and use the stairs. He can also imitate drawing shapes and lines well. Jamie has a good appetite. He knows his numbers and sizes.

Jamie was abandoned at birth. He was found to have bilateral inguinal hernias. The right hernia was repaired in November, 2015 and the left hernia was repaired a year later. Jamie also has epilepsy. When he was first abandoned he would have seizures once or twice a month. He is taking medication to help control his epilepsy. The number of seizures Jamie has varies; he has had one seizure in the past three months. Jamie’s language development appears to be a bit delayed. A report from May, 2017 says that Jamie can use simple words and have simple communication, producing two words at a time. The orphanage reported in August, 2017 that Jamie is a clever boy who can understand and follow directions as well as communicate his needs. They also reported that he has normal intelligence and he gets along well with other children.

Is Jamie the son you’ve been looking for? He has $5,000 AGENCY GRANT AVAILABLE! He is listed with Cradle of Hope Adoption, please contact them for further information.

Q: Can you tell us a little about your family?

My husband Kevin and I should never have gotten married. In fact, we should have never even met. We both had plans to attend other colleges, and just two months before fall classes started at Mississippi State University, we each decided to go there because of our scholarship opportunities. We began dating at the beginning of my senior year, and we’ve been married for 18 years now.

We always knew we’d have two kids, maybe three. So we have currently settled on five, with the door cracked open a tiny bit for the possibility of another adoption one day. We have three biological children, a boy and two girls, and two boys adopted from China. They range in age from 15 years to 2.5 years old.

Q: What led you to adopt from China?

From a very young age, I was interested in adoption and foster care. I had always hoped I would be able to foster and/or adopt one day. When Kevin and I were dating, we volunteered at a children’s group home, and it was evident that he shared the same feelings toward helping children.

Shortly after our third child was born, God started placing foster care and adoption heavily on my heart, so I began reading and researching in 2011. By the end of 2012, I was certain that it was God’s plan for us to adopt, so I began inquiring about foster care. Doors kept closing everywhere I turned, so I did what I proclaimed I’d never do, and I started looking into international adoption. The China program seemed like the best fit for our family, so that’s where we proceeded.

And now? I see how God worked it all out perfectly. Closed doors led to open doors which led to China, and now a part of my heart lives there.

Q: Which provinces are your child from?

Both are from Jiangsu, but one lived in foster care in Beijing for most of his life before we adopted him.

Q: What special needs are represented in your family?

We have diagnoses of cerebral dysplasia, atrial septal defect, global delays, hearing loss, speech delay, GERD, feeding issues, and asthma.

Q: Favorite aspect of adoption? Hardest?

One of my favorite things about adoption is getting to witness all the triumphs and “firsts” that our kids may not have experienced had they not been part of a family. I also love watching how our kids love each other. My heart almost bursts when I see our 15 year old roughhousing with the toddlers, or our 13 year old eagerly rushing to the boys’ room when they wake up from nap, or our 7 year old teaching the boys songs and reading them books. The little ones bring so much to our family. We can’t imagine a life without them.

The hardest aspect for me hasn’t been the attachment or the countless medical appointments that we hadn’t anticipated. The hardest thing for me is leaving China, knowing the ones we left behind. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I could have never anticipated how hard it would be to walk out of the orphanage with my babies and wonder if the kids behind those doors would ever have a family to call their own. The reality of this wasn’t just sad for me. It was down right consuming.

Q: In one or two sentences, what are two tips applying to any part of the adoption process?

1) Find your people (through Facebook groups, adoption groups in your community, adoption mentors, etc.) and stick together. You will need support from these new friendships throughout the process and after you’re home. Most people in your life won’t understand what you’re going through if they haven’t done it themselves.

2) Remain steadfast in your faith that God has already decided the date and time you will meet your newest treasure. No amount of worrying, crying, or nagging USCIS will change that.

Q: How has adoption grown/stretched/changed you?

Adoption has changed me in countless ways. Seeing the world through the lens of a child who may not have experienced the love of a family, trips to the zoo, rambunctious siblings, medical needs being met…it is so very humbling. We take so much for granted every day.

I am strangely so thankful for the surprise medical needs we have faced. It makes me realize that I underestimate myself as a mother. Had I known beforehand just how many doctor appointments we would have our first year home seeking diagnoses, I would have said, “I can’t do that.” But I have done it, and I’m still doing it. And it doesn’t fill me with an ounce of regret. It makes me realize that if we do adopt again one day, our medical conditions checklist will be so much greater, and we will likely adopt an older child next time.

Q: Can you share a few of your favorite personal blog posts? Some shared by others on NHBO?

My favorite personal blog post is one I wrote in June of 2016 called The Child That Wasn’t Mine. It is one of my most vulnerable posts about a boy I met when we were on our adoption trips in 2015 and 2016. God used him to break me. My heart has never recovered from walking away from him. Our brief encounters are what paved the way to my passion for orphan advocacy. (Praise! He came home with his family just 13 months after I wrote this post.)

My favorite NHBO post is Who Would Want a Dad Like Me? by Mike. In fact, I love it so much that it has been open on my phone web browser ever since it was published. I can’t bring myself to close it! It was posted a little less than two months after we returned from our first adoption trip, a time when I struggled with my desperation to adopt again and my fear of not being enough as a mother. It was God’s perfect timing that I read it. Soon after, we committed to adopting again.

Q: What is your favorite book? Quote? Verse?

Book: I can’t pick a single favorite book! Some of my favorites are Choosing to See by Mary Beth Chapman, Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis, The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, and Anything: The Prayer That Unlocked My God and My Soul by Jennie Allen.

Quote: “Christ never intended those who walked with him to feel comfortable and safe. This was meant to be a risk-it-all pursuit.” – Jennie Allen, Anything: The Prayer That Unlocked My God and My Soul

Verse: “When everything is ready, I will come and get you so that you will always be with me where I am.” – John 14:3. This verse was a little gift for me in a devotional book during a particularly hard day for me during our first adoption. It renewed my soul, and it reminded me that when everything is ready in God’s timing, things will transpire. Not in mine. Adoption grew me so much spiritually. It allowed me a deeper understanding of our heavenly father and his deep desire for a relationship with us. Just as I eagerly awaited all of my children and made my preparations for them in anticipation and excitement, God feels exactly the same about us.

Q: What is something most people don’t know about you?

I am a very light sleeper. I have to run a small, but loud fan in my room so that I don’t wake up to every little sound. I take it with me every time I travel. I think it may have even gone to China with us once!

Q: Can you share a favorite “mom hack” that makes life easier for you?

A lot of moms who come to my house marvel at my collection of kitchen scissors. I have probably 5 or 6 pairs of kitchen scissors because I use them so much! They are so handy for cutting sandwiches, pizza, chicken, veggies, cutting open packages of food… everything!

Q: If you could share one parting thought with someone considering special needs adoption, what would it be?

You are capable of far more than you think. Your future son or daughter is far more than a diagnosis on a referral. Fear is your biggest obstacle. You can “what if” until you talk yourself out of making the leap to love big. The fear of the unknown and the fear of your own inadequacy to parent a child with special needs fades every day that you spend with your sweet child.

Jade, 3.5, is active, energetic, and extroverted. She enjoys listening to music, reading picture books, playing outside, and playing games, especially puzzles, phone games, blocks, and rings. Jade is a smiley girl who gets along well with others.

Jade was abandoned at birth. She was diagnosed with congenital megacolon radical, which we call Hirschsprung disease in the U.S., a birth condition that causes blockage of the intestines. Jade had surgery at 2 months old and again at 10 months old to help correct this condition and allow her to defecate normally. She needed anal stretching for 6 months after her second surgery, but no longer receives this. She was evaluated at 13 months and found to be successfully treated for this condition. Jade is now able to urinate and defecate normally, though she does not yet have bowel and bladder control.

Jade is delayed in her growth, language, and intelligence. She can walk and run, but can be unsteady at times. She can hold a pen to draw, but she has trouble drawing a straight line. Jade can imitate language, understand the meaning of “no”, respond to adult directions, use words to express her needs, and say a few simple words, but she has poor pronunciation. The orphanage notes that Jade has significant delays but they believe that these delays are not permanent. They are hopeful that she will improve with the love and care of a family.

Jade is listed with Cradle of Hope, please contact this agency for more information on pursuing her adoption.

Rini, our youngest of six children, was adopted in August of 2013 at end stage heart failure stemming from complex, single ventricle congenital heart disease. She was admitted to the hospital immediately upon arrival home and within two weeks it was determined that she was inoperable, her only hope would come through cardiac transplant. She was initially found to be ineligible, but that would change thanks to a heart failure/transplant program that chose to take a chance on hope and optimism.

Much as we owe her life to the sacrifice made by her birth family in letting her go, we also owe it to the incredible, selfless act of organ donation made by a family in the midst of the incomprehensible loss of their child.

This series is a retrospective of the weeks leading up to Rini’s transplant which took place on November 13, 2013, and it is my hope that it will help to bring awareness to the importance of registering to be an organ and tissue donor.

We all have the power to be someone else’s miracle.

Donate Life!

From October 22nd, 2016

On this day three years ago, it was the day before the transplant committee was scheduled to meet and we were overwrought. Our anxiety was palpable. We had been warned that if there was dissention within the group, further testing would be ordered which would drag the transplant evaluation out for several more days. Neurology had come by to examine Rini and I was so angry with myself and filled with worry for not having been there (I had gone for a walk while she was napping), as I was so concerned about how they might interpret her institutional delays.

Her blood work uncovered a thyroid problem, and I learned that she had lost over two pounds in less than a week.

I’ve gained so much knowledge over the past three years, not only through my experiences with Rini and our other CHD children, but also through my job at Little Hearts Medical. I clearly recognize that while in the midst of those emotionally charged days I really had no idea just how sick Rini was. It sounds ridiculous, I know. I was given slices of information but I lacked the understanding to piece them together. I liken it to constructing a jigsaw puzzle without having seen what the finished product will look like. It was only when a critical event was upon her that I grasped a fuller picture.

And even to this day when we take her to Seattle for her transplant clinics every three months, invariably someone from her team will mention another tidbit of information that we hadn’t heard before, or make a comment illustrating their astonishment that she survived.

One of the most comforting aspects of being at a transplant center that deals in such a high volume of cases (Seattle Children’s has one of the highest transplant volumes in the U.S.) is that they’ve seen a huge variety of cases. Conversely, that can also be unnerving. When, day in and day out, a program cares for the sickest of the sick and they’ve witnessed everything that such children can throw at them, they’re not shocked or surprised very easily and they’ve learned that sometimes children react in myriad ways. As such, trying to read their expressions yields no clues and every tiny bit of detail isn’t shared unless they have hard evidence of where something is trending.

At first we looked to their faces to determine whether we should be worried or not. That was fruitless, as they took everything in stride. Even during Rini’s cardiac arrests there was control within the chaos. It took some time, but Eric and I finally learned to just ask the hard questions. Once we did so, Rini’s team was more than willing to sit down and spell it out for us. But I wasn’t there yet, and because of that I was blind to the fact that Rini was beginning her final decline.

On the night of the 22nd, she was unable to be soothed. Normally she was ready to fall asleep around 9pm, but on that night she did not want to lie down. Over the prior two weeks she could only tolerate sitting up for ten minutes at most, but on that night she simply wouldn’t allow us to place her in a reclining position. She was anxious and very demanding, and God forgive me, I remember at one point late into the night becoming momentarily irritated. I was so tired and when I would attempt to sit down, even on the arm of the chair next to her crib, she would screech. She figured out that if she took the washcloth off of her head and threw it out of the crib and then pointed and yelled for it she could keep me perpetually on my feet, which is exactly what happened. 

I didn’t see it. I didn’t realize it. Rini was terrified.

Rini was dying. 

Her breathing grew increasingly labored as the night wore on, tachycardia set in, and as darkness turned to dawn there were an ever-increasing number of people moving in and out of her room. I still didn’t comprehend what was happening. I didn’t ask. Why? I don’t know. Looking back, I believe that I thought she had time.

It was incomprehensible to me that she might be nearing the end of her life already. After all, if she was listed for transplant the average wait time for a heart even at the most critical listing status was 3-5 months. Eric and I were so focused on achieving the goal of getting her a chance at evaluation followed by getting her listed, that neither of us thought beyond that to ask a seemingly simple question: would she survive to transplant?

This video is one that I didn’t know existed until two weeks ago. I’ve looked through the photos and videos from those months countless times, but I never watched this one. When I was searching the photo/video file for October 22, 2013, there it was.

I cried when I watched it, for hindsight allowed me to see what I didn’t see that night: a child who had just a few more hours before she was on the precipice of cardiac arrest. Her eyes. Oh her eyes! And the pallor of her skin, her breathing, and the little gulp for air.

Right there you can see a child fighting for her life. And yet look at her strength. I see determination. I see life.

Rini would astonish all of us time and time again with her will. But ultimately the will to live will only propel life forward for a finite amount of time. Rini’s only hope would lie in a decision to be made the following evening and after that, it would depend on a choice made by strangers over two thousand miles away.

From October 23rd, 2016

On this day three years ago, my heart broke. As dawn arrived, one of the cardiac critical care physicians entered the room and told me that Rini was in respiratory failure. They placed her on CPAP and said they would monitor her for an hour or two to see if it made a positive dent in her numbers, but there was no improvement. Her respiration continued to decline and her tachycardia grew worse.

I was then told by one of the cardiac critical care physicians that she needed to be intubated as soon as possible. At that moment, I jumped on board the crazy train and told him that I wouldn’t allow it. When he asked me why, I said that the transplant committee hadn’t made their decision yet. If the decision was made not to list her, I wanted to take Rini to our home to die surrounded by her family, not in a hospital. I knew that in Rini’s case, intubation was an end stage intervention, not a transitory one.

I knew that once intubated, a child like Rini would not be able to be extubated without going into cardiac arrest. Her heart was so sick, so tired, that once given the rest of intubation, it would lack the strength to rev up again. This is why both our home hospital and Seattle pushed intubation out as far as they could. It brings its own risks, and they wanted to get as much mileage as they could out of each stage of intervention before graduating to the next.

But even knowing that, perhaps because of knowing that, I didn’t want to accept that it was where she was already. In Seattle, I was alone with her. I was so scared and devastated, and I know I wasn’t thinking straight. God bless him, he looked at me with thoughtfulness, shifted his gaze up and stared into the distance for several seconds, and told me he’d be back.

I can only imagine what conversation took place after he departed. Maybe something along the lines of, “We’ve got a crazy one in room 203.” But a few minutes later he reentered Rini’s room and with great compassion but firmness, he said, “I am your daughter’s physician, and I am asking you to allow me to do what I know needs to be done to save her life.” With that, I nodded and signed the consent forms.

Her team told me that the intubation would begin almost immediately and that they felt she was as critically ill as she could possibly be and still survive the sedation and intubation process.

One of the transplant cardiologists then made a comment that, while cutting and searing, did wonders for how I viewed those caring for my baby girl. She said that they had all spoken about how sorry they were that they had to go this route, from a developmental and attachment standpoint, since Rini would no longer be able to communicate with me. In that moment, the floodgates of appreciation opened within my heart since I knew that they understood.

They recognized the trauma endured by many adopted children… the trauma of abandonment and adoption, how hard-fought attachment can be…and they were sorry to have to interfere with the progress we had made with Rini.

It also hit me like a ton of bricks since in the flurry of that morning, the haze of information and emotional overload, I had forgotten that with intubation would come a cessation of communication with my daughter, and that I might not see her eyes open again unless she was listed and received a heart.

From my journal:

“In an instant I realized that unless the team decided to list her, and unless she becomes the recipient of the gift of a new heart, and unless she survives the transplant surgery, it would be the last time that I ever heard her little voice. I went to the shower room and cried so hard, and then a peace came over me. And at that moment, I turned on my phone for the day and the ping ping ping of waiting texts filled the room. My cousin had sent me her daily scripture four hours earlier:

Right before the intubation began I took this video. I wanted Eric to be able to see his beautiful baby girl’s eyes in case it would be the last time, and I wanted to capture her voice.

This video is still so painful for me to watch, especially the way she stared into my eyes. Right there is a moment between a mother and her desperately sick child. I see fear in her eyes, but I also see determination and love.

The intubation procedure itself went beautifully, but about twenty minutes later, she went into some kind of respiratory failure (I can’t remember the name of it) and they could no longer feel any peripheral pulses. The doctors came in, and she recovered from that episode. They said later that it gave them a good window into how she might respond to interventions in the future, so they were glad to have that insight into her. Their attention then turned into placing an arterial line.

Meanwhile, Rini began a fever that they felt was most likely heart failure versus infection related. But to be on the safe side, they ran cultures on her lines and lung secretions.

That evening, they lifted her sedation to see how she would react. She opened her beautiful eyes and looked right at me and then reached up to me with both hands. I will never forget that moment. Unfortunately, she began thrashing and trying to pull at her breathing tube so she was placed on paralytic drugs and has arms restraints. She was then deeply sedated, which is where she would remain.

My best friend, hearing the pain and strain in my voice, arranged to take our other children in order to allow Eric to drive the four hours to Seattle in order to be with me. I expected him in time for the transplant committee’s decision.

Around 6:30pm, I was notified that I had a surprise visitor. It was a Facebook friend who I had never met in person.

From my journal:

“I went to the waiting area outside of the unit and was so pleased to meet a friend I met on the internet whose child receives care here. As we were talking, I saw one of the transplant cardiologists walking swiftly down the hall. At first, it didn’t occur to me that she had just been in with the transplant committee. My sense of time was distorted by the multiple emotional upheavals of the day. She was smiling, but she’s always smiling and is very hard to read.

She saw me and, still smiling, waved me over. She kept right on walking with me right behind her, let us into the CICU, and walked quickly down the long hallway. I was thinking, “Please stop! Don’t keep walking! Don’t take me to the Quiet Room at the end of the hall!”

Right after she reached Rini’s room, she stopped and turned to me and said, “We have decided that she can be listed.” After everything leading up to that moment, I felt nothing. I was in such shock. All I could squeak out was, “Oh! Thank you!”” 

It was incredibly surreal. She went on to say that she was pleased to report that Rini was the only child in her weight class and blood type listed at the center. That was important, since chances were good that if Rini received a heart, it would come from Region 6 and Seattle Children’s is the only transplant center in the entire region, which consists of Oregon, Washington, Alaska, Idaho, and Montana. Rini would be listed at Status 1A, the most critical status, and that we should expect a wait of several months, with about three months being average, although they have had some children wait for as little as a few days and others for more than six months.

Eric arrived, and we were both elated! But that feeling would be fleeting.

A new definition of “waiting” had entered into the vocabulary of our lives.

Emily loves dolls, dress-up, panda bears, ballet, singing while playing her brother’s ukulele upside down, blowing bubbles, Disney World, soccer, and “preaching” to us from her children’s Bible. She has a quick wit and makes us laugh every day. And, she was born with a condition called albinism.

And that’s really it. Albinism is just one thing about her. It’s not a big thing and it’s certainly not the over-arching thing. It’s just one aspect of what makes her the unique and wonderful person she is.

On a daily basis, albinism isn’t even something we think very much about. The “skin condition” aspects of it have become second nature. It’s almost like putting on a seatbelt when you get in the car. The seatbelt is just a step you take before you turn on the car and get ready to go. The same is true for us with sunscreen. Because we know that people with albinism have a higher risk of skin cancer, applying sunscreen is just one more thing we do – after brushing hair and teeth – before we set out for the day.

We keep the sunscreen in a basket near the door as a reminder and, right after I fix her hair, I supervise her using a sunscreen stick on her face. Sticks are easy and she knows to go from the nose out – like painting stripes – to get full coverage. For now, since she’s four years old, we still handle putting lotion sunscreen on her arms and legs.

At school, her IEP requires her teachers to give her a hat and to help her apply sunscreen every two hours if she will be outside. At the beginning of the school year, we give the teachers a Ziploc bag containing a sunscreen stick (for face), a sunscreen lotion, and a sun hat. The bag also contains sunglasses (although some people just have prescription sunglasses) that she can wear if she chooses. (Her regular glasses darken outside and sometimes, that’s enough). Her afterschool program at a nearby church also has a similar bag filled with the same items (hat and sunscreen and sunglasses) so that those teachers can re-apply sunscreen if the kids go out later in the afternoon.

We go to the beach once or twice each year, we are members of our neighborhood pool, and we love Disney World. The sun doesn’t stop Emily or us. We just have to be smart about it. Sunscreen and hats and sunglasses are the things we use to protect her skin and eyes from the sun. Pretty easy. Pretty routine. And, really, something everybody should be doing for all kids – even those who were not born with a “skin condition” like albinism.

The “bigger” thing for people with albinism is not the skin aspect, though. It is that the same lack of pigment that causes the skin and hair to be white also causes abnormal development of the retina and the nerve connections in the eyes. This abnormal eye development causes vision problems that are not correctable with glasses or surgery. Whenever I see an advocacy post about a baby or child with albinism, I always see posts about how cute or beautiful the child is (and I agree) and then at least one post (and often more) asking ,“Will he have vision problems?” Or “Can she see?” The answer to the first question is that all persons with albinism have some degree of vision impairment. But, the answer to the second question is Yes, they can see. As the NOAH website – a great source of information on albinism) puts it, “The degree of impairment varies with the different types of albinism. Although people with albinism may be considered ‘legally blind’ with a corrected visual acuity of 20/200 or worse, most learn to use their vision in a variety of ways and are able to perform innumerable activities such as reading, riding a bike or fishing. Some have sufficient vision to drive a car.”

It is important to understand that “legally blind” does not mean fully blind (although those kids and adults can do almost anything too!). Rather, it a legal classification for visual acuity of 20/200 or worse. “Low vision” is usually defined as a visual acuity of 20/70 or worse. There are people with albinism with visual acuities from 20/60 (on the very, very good end of the spectrum) to 20/600 or even 20/800. When adopting a child with albinism, you cannot really know the acuity until you get them home and have them examined by a ophthalmologist.

Since we’ve brought Emily home, we’ve had the great fortune of becoming involved in some albinism parent groups (mostly of adopted children with albinism). Those groups have provided a wealth of information ranging from recommendations on which sunscreens work best, to sharing ideas and strategies for dealing with school systems and IEPs, to posting about coupons and discount codes for rash guards and sunglasses. Even better, those groups have introduced us to amazing families and children with whom we’ve developed online (and some “in person”) relationships that we hope last a long time.

Through our experience with Emily and in those groups, we’ve seen that it really is true that the degree of visual impairment associated with albinism varies from person to person. Some of the children and teenagers in these groups use canes in a lot of settings. Others never do. Some learn and read Braille. Others use magnification devices and large print for reading. Some have significant glare blindness and need darkened shades in homes and cars. Others do not. Some drive. Some do not. Almost all school-aged children work with Teachers of the Visually Impaired (TVIs).

But, despite all of the varied visual acuities, there is rarely a day when a proud parent in these groups doesn’t post pictures or videos of their child with albinism’s football game, golf swing, basketball score, gymnastic feat, academic success, ballet recital, or artistic accomplishment.

People with albinism can do just about anything!

For now, our daughter works with a TVI for an hour each week and meets with an “orientation and mobility” instructor once each week. She was given a preview of her new school’s layout and playground before school started this August. That preview allowed her to see/memorize the school’s layout, stairs, and playground equipment. While her visual acuity has been measured closer to the better end of the albinism-vision spectrum, we have decided to have her learn Braille. Our view is that it’s best to learn now, when she is young and interested (and she is very interested!). If she never needs to use Braille (or doesn’t want to down the road), then there is no harm done. She “reads,” for now at the font that is normally included in books aimed toward the pre-k/kindergarten audience. As she gets older and book and worksheet print typically smaller, she will need magnification devices and/or an ipad or computer with the ability to enlarge font.

She does not use a cane at this time and has been assessed by her orientation and mobility person as not needing one. We do not disagree with that assessment at this point. She navigates very well and only occasionally needs “cues” from us about unmarked drop offs or changes in terrain. She looks for rails and markings and color changes and she memorizes playgrounds and walkways and layouts of places very quickly. She does hold books and the ipad and other things closer to her face than do kids with “normal” vision and she sits closer to the TV than we do, but other than that, most people do not really notice that she has a visual impairment. At least for now, there are no limits that she has or that we set because of her “low vision.”

I’m often asked about the things a prospective family should consider when thinking of adopting a child with albinism. I usually respond that the albinism itself is almost never the child’s biggest need. Rather, the things to be aware of and/or concerned about are the same things that would be true for any child in an institutional setting: is she receiving any stimulation, is he interacting with other children and adults, are her needs being met, is he malnourished, is there evidence of mistreatment or neglect. Those are the things that are far more difficult to overcome than is any specific “special need.”

Children with albinism are sometimes very poorly treated in orphanages. It is a misunderstood condition and is one about which there are inaccurate and damaging myths and beliefs. There are children waiting right now who have been the victims of these circumstances and who desperately need willing and experienced families to bring them home. Albinism itself is something that is very manageable and people with this condition can and do lead very “typical” and amazing lives. One of my work colleagues has two sisters with albinism and both are extremely accomplished women, holders of Ph.Ds., and world travelers. I hope to say the same about Emily one day.

Albinism is a noticeable condition as not as many people have totally white hair (once you get past toddlerhood). Everywhere we go, people remember Emily as “the girl with the white hair.” When we go to stores, the workers always remember her. Although we’ve been to the same pediatrician practice for 11 years with 3 kids, the office staff there only remembers Emily. When I went to curriculum night at her school recently and introduced myself as her mom, several parents said, “Oh yes – the one with the white hair.”

People comment on her hair wherever we go. Emily asked us the other day if she was “famous.” This attention, so far, has been positive. When she grows older, it might not always be. But, we are working to teach her that differences are to be embraced in herself and in others and that everyone – regardless of skin color or hair color or ethnicity or physical ability or medical condition or other difference – is beautiful and special and wonderfully made and is someone to be valued and loved.

Also, being memorable because of her hair color is a gift! We want her to realize that being noticed for her white hair is an opportunity to be remembered for even greater things. She can be more than just “the girl with the white hair.” She can be “the girl with the white hair” who is KIND to everyone. Or “the girl with white hair” who always helps people in need. Or “the girl with white hair” who has a big and caring heart.

What a gift that is! And what a gift she is to us.

– guest post by Lee Ann: blog || email

When my dear friend Andrea recommended that I write this article for No Hands But Ours, I was intimidated. I still am. As a mom of eight young adult daughters (ages 21 – 25), seven that joined our family through the gift of adoption — five after the age of 18 — I still feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of attaching and connecting with my girls. And the surface that I have scratched is marked with smudges of my own failures, fingerprints of selfishness and water stains of my tears, and theirs. This thing that we call attachment, this idea/expectation/dream of a fully bonded, comfortable and enriching relationship with my kids — all eight of them — still eludes me many days.

I say that to say that I am no expert, and as I considered writing an article that might come across as an “expert point of view,” I froze. I’m still convinced that I agreed to write it only because the email came in before my morning caffeine kicked in and I love Andrea. Having agreed, when the time came to put my fingers on the keyboard, I froze. I froze because my girls can read, the only audience that I truly care about — God and my family — will know if what I write is a puffed up version of reality. They all know me like no one else reading these words ever will.

So, here are my real-life words of solidarity with you — parents walking in the hard, heavy and heartbreaking arena of first family loss. It’s messy. Yet, in the mess there resides a Redeemer who not only sees every tear but keeps our tears before Him, bottled within the promise of beauty from the ashes of our broken moments.

Rather than read the words before you as “expert advice” being passed on from someone who has it all together, read it as a fellow traveler on the road toward hope who’s fumbling, failing and figuring it out with you.

Don’t misunderstand me, there are days of deep, deep connection with my girls. Days where I feel like I’ve hit the mark and the contented feeling of healthy relationship washes over me as I drift off to sleep. It’s from the prospective of both fulfilling attachment and broken connection that I write this article. You see, for me, attachment/connection/relationship isn’t an either/or, it’s a both/and. I haven’t yet found myself at a state where I can stop my efforts, cease my striving, and say that we’ve either “arrived” and are fully attached to our kids, or not. I have instead found myself in a continual state of being both attached and broken in relationship with my girls, their stories and their struggles. Isn’t that how relationship works? We’re broken together. Only experiencing full wholeness from within the abiding presence of and reliance upon Jesus to fill in the gaps and mend the fractures.

My message to you today is simply that attachment work doesn’t end at a magical “18.” 18 isn’t a passing off or arrival of attachment-centered and connection-driven relationship, it’s merely a continuation. That cute sassy little 12-year-old will one day be an adult with her own life, and she will still need you – whether she admits it or not. That tough little 14 year old boy will one day be a man with a family of his own, and he will still needs you — whether he shows it or not.

Here are a few things that help me get it right and keep my heart and mind centered on lifelong, connected relationship with my girls:

Love them, and let them find themselves.

The hardest part of the teenage and young adult years is the necessary and God-given desire for independence — a separation from “you” so that I can be “me.” This drive to find their own identity draws our precious ones into all manner of stuff — behaviors, situations, relationships, decisions — that make us angry, cause us to worry and even hurt our feelings.

It’s important to remember two things:

First, this isn’t about us (don’t take it personally). It’s about them and their journey of finding out who they are.

Second, our primary job is to love them, no matter what. Stay steady in your expression of and commitment to loving them through whatever the current situation may be. Instructing, guiding, correcting and letting consequences teach is much easier from the foundation of love. We naturally want to make it more complicated than love, but don’t. Take a breath and repeat, “Show love. Show love. Show love.”

Other people have a valuable place in your kids lives.

“You’re not going to believe what ________ just told me!” followed with an exact statement that you’ve made a hundred gazillion trillion times. “________ told me that I should consider _______ and I think it’s a great idea.” Oh, really? I’m glad _______ thought to tell you, why didn’t I ever think of that 😃 …

*insert major eye roll*

In truth, aren’t we all kind of like this though? Sometimes it’s the simple act of someone outside of your normal circle seeing something that rings true with other consistent messages in your life that finally makes it take hold and stick. Trust me, I get it, when we’re speaking of attachment these issues are magnified and sometimes our kids cling to other relationships in unhealthy ways, or push us away, talk badly or lie about us, or just shut us out to focus on the other person — teacher, friend’s parent, co-worker, pastor, or person they just met at the fast food drive up. Repeat after me, “I can’t control them, I can only control me.”

We can’t spend our time anxious and bitter about the other relationships they have in their life. In the course of their lifetimes, our kids are going to manage hundreds of relationships. Some relationships will be healthy, some not so healthy; some based on truth, others based on lies; some real, some perceived; sometimes they will find true friendship, sometimes they will find betrayal; one mentor may be awesome, another will lead them astray. The bottom line is relationships heal and relationships hurt, and both are good. Find teaching opportunities in these moments, and always be a safe landing zone for life’s ups and downs.

Remember, there will come a time that they choose.

In those precious and exhausting years that our children are living at home and dependent on us for their very survival we often dream about the day that they will be on their own, paying their own bills, eating all the peanut butter out of their own pantry in one sitting and no longer leaving a trail of unwashed laundry in our house. Then that day comes, and we realize that we focused on all of those things and didn’t think about the most important one —relationship. Trust me, I get it. When we are adults we can choose where and with whom to spend our time/energy/effort, and so can our little ones when they become big ones.

Praise publicly, rebuke privately.

One of my greatest sadnesses is when I see a parent totally expose their child on social media or in anything other public forum (i.e. the family dinner table.) We are to lift up and love each and every child, in front of them and in front of everyone else. When my children come to me to complain, tattle or otherwise expose their siblings, I listen and help them process, but I work very hard to pull the conversation toward positive and praise. In conflict, much to my children’s chagrin, I only deal with the behavior of the person in front of me. I don’t care what your sibling did, it takes two to perpetuate conflict, let’s talk about your role and how you could have avoided the conflict or solved it. I will speak with the opposing sibling similarly. We cannot align ourselves with anything that tears down our children in front of others. Yes, correction is needed but in the same way that we expect our children to honor us, we should honor them and handle that correction privately as much as possible.

Remind yourself that relationship is a lifetime journey, not a childhood sprint.

I’ve watched two of my girls marry the love of their lives, and another is headed down the aisle to her forever in a few short months. I have four beautiful grandchildren. Neither marriage, nor parenting their own children stop the attachment-centered work that we do in our girl’s lives.

Actually, my children’s major life shifts often become touchpoint of attachment work that is both profoundly beautiful and profoundly broken. As parents of adult children we are similar to the pole in the game of tether ball. The chain is our children’s relationship and connection to us that is always there, even when they are away from us. Much like the ball in the game, life is full of opposing forces that are vying for your child’s attention, sometimes beating them up a little and always moving in one direction or another. But occasionally, that chain of relationship brings a child back to wrap themselves around us just long enough to catch a break and get back out their to their life.

Life is hard. Make sure your relationship is safe and soft enough to run back into and rest.

Create traditions, and uphold them.

Traditions draw us back together; for our family the big one is Christmas and Thanksgiving. We go big on those holidays and our children love it, and are modeling it in their own adult lives. Whatever your traditions are – make them big. These are the things that bond us and create a lifetime of memories that warm our hearts and fill our dinner tables.

These are just a few lessons that this life of walking with my adult children from hard places, through hard places and to hard places has taught me. Hands down, the most important thing — always — is connection to Jesus and to each other. We can’t and shouldn’t do this alone. We can and should draw on the deep well of grace, mercy and forgiveness that is modeled for us and present to us in Jesus Christ.

Don’t forget that you are worthy, you are uniquely designed for your story, and you are fully equipped for this lifetime journey of relationship with your children.

I’ll end with this favorite quote from Mother Teresa that is framed on my desk in front of me as I close this article. I read it every day. It helps me stay in the game, no matter what.

Pam Parish is the author of two popular devotionals for foster and adoptive families. Her first devotional Ready or Not, A 30-Day Discovery for Families Growing Through Foster Care & Adoption, has become standard preparation and inspiration material across the country and internationally for families navigating the journey of foster care and adoption, whether just starting out or already parenting. Her second book, Battle-Weary Parents, A 30-Day Guide for Parenting in the Trenches, is a go-to resource for families who find themselves worn out in the hard places with children from hard places.

She is also the founder of Connections Homes, an Atlanta-based non-profit impacting the lives of young adults who are homeless, without family or aging out of foster care. She and her husband Steve were high school sweethearts who will be celebrating 26 years of marriage this year. They are the parents of eight young adult daughters and have four grandchildren. One of their daughters came to them through the gift of birth and seven through the gift of foster care and adoption. Pam blogs about foster care, adoption and family at pamparish.com, you can also find her on Facebook and Instagram.

Charlene (Born August 2012) loves all kinds of games and toys: puzzles, building with blocks, listening to books, and hide-and-seek! She especially likes playing with her closest friend. She really enjoys being outside, whether it’s a quiet area of the village or a crowded street.

Charlene is diagnosed with bilateral schizencephaly, a difference in her brain, but caregivers say it has little effect on her daily life. Her right leg is shorter so she limps, and her right hand is weaker, but she is able to pick up objects with either hand. When stringing beads she is very focused and uses each hand for different parts of the task; she will keep going until she finishes all the beads she is given!

As of October 2016, Charlene is able to walk, run, jump, and go up and down the stairs alone. She is still receiving rehabilitation training to help her development. Caregivers report she has delays in language and cognitive abilities; she can say simple words like “mama” and “eat,” but was not yet putting words together in phrases. However, they say they feel she is smart; before she was able to speak verbally she would communicate using facial expressions and sign language. She is able to feed herself with a spoon, drink from a straw, and brush her teeth. If someone offers to help her she refuses, she is confident she can things on her own!

Watch her video here in the Facebook Children Advocacy Group (You must be a group member to see the video).

Charlene is a beautiful girl and needs a family who believes in her like she believes in herself! WACAP is offering a $4,000 Promise Child Grant for qualified families. Email WACAP for more information!

The term special needs can sound scary. But it doesn’t have to stay that way. Our goal at NHBO is to equip and inform parents – replacing fear with knowledge – as they navigate the beginning stages of special needs adoption. And then encourage and support those home with their special needs kiddos.

We do much of this through our Family Stories. In addition to our regular content, each month (except January) we feature Family Stories focused on a specific group of Special Needs. Here are some links from previous years organized by category:

February: Heart – 2017 || 2016 || 2015
March: Blood Conditions – 2017 || 2016 || 2015
April: Central Nervous System – 2017 ||2016 || 2015
May: Vascular – 2017 ||2016 || 2015
June: Orthopedic – 2017 || 2016 || 2015
July: Craniofacial – 2017 || 2016 || 2015
August: Infectious – 2017 || 2016 || 2015
September: Skin Conditions – 2017 || 2016 || 2015
October: Developmental – 2016 || 2015
November: Urogenital – 2016 || 2015
December: Sensory – 2016 || 2015

September is our month to focus on special needs involving the skin. And all month long, we’ll be featuring family stories of children with needs like albinism, congenital nevus, epidermolysis bullosa and ichthyosis.

Over the years, many family stories related to these special needs have been shared. And – during this month focusing on skin conditions – we wanted to take a moment to look back at just a few of our favorites.

Let’s go.

Albinism

Albinism: a group of inherited conditions – people with albinism have little or no pigment in their eyes, skin, or hair.

In this post from 2015, Lee Ann shares their fears in the unknowns of adopting a child with albinism and how that has changed since their daughter has been home.

Read more NHBO posts on this special need here.

Burns

Burns: injuries caused by exposure to heat or flame.

Jessica shares the story of bringing home their daughter, Cleo, whose special need was burns.

Read more NHBO posts on this special need here.

Congenital Nevus

Congenital Nevus: a congenital melanocytic nevus can sound like an overwhelming special need. Simply, it is a birthmark (nevus) present at birth (congenital) that is made up of melanin or pigmented cells (melancytic). A nevus is often described based on the size of the birthmark: small, large, or giant.

Michelle recounts the roller-coaster journey to bring home their daughter with a giant congenital nevus.

Read more NHBO posts on this special need here.

Epidermolysis Bullosa

Epidermolysis Bullosa: or EB, is a very rare genetic connective tissue disorder. EB is actually a group of disorders that share a prominent manifestation of extremely fragile skin that blisters and tears from friction or trauma. Internal organs and bodily systems can also be seriously affected by EB.

Whitney confesses her initial fears on taking her daughter with EB to the beach, one of her family’s favorite pastimes, and that she maybe ought not have been so worried after all.

Read more NHBO posts on this special need here.

Ichthyosis

Ichthyosis: the ichthyoses (plural) are a family of genetic diseases characterized by dry, thickened, scaling skin. Because each form of ichthyosis is rare and there is an overlap of clinical features among disease types, the medical community disagrees about clear definitions and classifications of its many forms.

Amy shares how, after thinking they might not ever be able to adopt again, they brought home Gabriel, a little boy with ichthyosis.

Read more NHBO posts on this special need here.

If you are parenting a child from China with a special need and would like to share your story on No Hands But Ours, let us know. Just complete this short form and we’ll be in touch with you soon.

Attachment. Not much more could not be packed into one single word, especially in the adoption world.

We spent all of July focusing on this most-important topic and decided to continue into August – but with a bit of a twist.

This month, we’re answering your attachment questions. Because we all have them – we just don’t always have a safe place to ask.

Question:

So much of what I read about attachment talks about loving eye contact. Our son, adopted at 6, is vision impaired. He doesn’t like to be touched. What are some ways to build attachment that work around these problems?

A great deal of professional attachment advice circles around the use of eye contact. But what happens when your child is blind? I’m coming from the viewpoint of a three-timer adoptive mom. Two of my Chinese kiddos were born without eyes.

Eye contact is not necessary for attachment. I felt that my daughters attached to us very quickly. They had to in a way because they needed us for everything, much like an infant would. So, we bonded over droppers of water, nighttime feedings and feeding them bite by bite.

I think feeding is one of the best bonding and attachment exercises we can use. Number one, cook them food they enjoy sometimes! Don’t limit them to our pizza and cheese laden casseroles. Break open the seaweed and offer it to them in your hand.

Beyond feeding them and basic care I think these pieces are important to remember when adopting a child who is blind.

Language:

Remember that they are, in fact, blind. That means that all information you are taking in through your eyes, they are trying to take in with other senses. Imagine being in the middle of trauma and trying that. It isn’t easy! Make sure you verbalize everything, every tiny detail. If you are making them toast in the morning then say, “The bread is on top of the fridge. I am getting it down and putting it into the slots in the toaster. A toaster will cook it and make it crispy. Do you like crispy, crunchy things?” Everything. Say everything!

If you leave a room, make sure you tell them. When you walk in the room, say “It’s just me, Mama.” You words give them the information they need to assess the situation quickly and decide if they are safe and can relax. You want them in a state of relaxation to work on attachment.

Smells:

My girls are quick to notice smells and changes in smells. For the first while, when building attachment, I recommend not changing perfumes, shampoos, or lotions. They are learning to recognize you and changing that up we personally found would throw them into regression. Not worth it.

We also utilized essential oils and diffusers. We kept the house smelling the same so that it gave them a sense of safety when they came home and smelled that they were home. You could use candles as well.

Touch:

This can be tricky. I think touch is absolutely one of the most important ways to build attachment. Some kids are resistant to touch. We had a social worker tell us to start small. Start with your hand being near theirs, feet near each other while sitting on a sofa together. If your child is resistant, do not force touch. That can be incredibly scary. Find ways that they will allow it and use it.

For my son, who isn’t blind but hated being touched, he would brush my hair and let me get behind him and comb his. So, we did that every single day. Four years later he still asks for this.

My girls loved being touched. I wore one in a carrier for months. But this is incredibly important to remember. Verbally tell them you are going to touch them! They can’t see your hand coming and it jolts them. Just learn to say, “I am going to put my hand on your shoulder now. Is that okay?” I still make this mistake sometimes! Just the other week, I was in a rush and put the Sunday School sticker on my daughter’s back without telling her. And down she went into a total meltdown!

Use deep pressure and not light touches. Light touches feel like a spider crawling on your skin! Touch firmly and it will usually go over much better for you.

Time:

I see so many new adoptive parents home, panicking about attachment. I’m sure I was one of them after my first adoption. But the thing is, attachment takes time. It is the accumulation of hundreds of small events that teach our children we are trustworthy. It takes scraped knees and being taught that mamas were made for kisses and bandaids. It takes midnight snacks to remind them that food is always here. It takes crying together and being angry. It takes watching their mama stay up late at night to finish a Halloween costume. It takes watching their daddy build their new bed for them.

Attachment is not a magic pill. It is not a sprint. This is a marathon. And sometimes the only attachment I feel all day long is my own. I love them because they are mine. I choose them every single day. And one day, I hope and pray, they will choose me back.

This beautiful little girl is known as Daniela and she is waiting for her family to find her and be her YES. Could it be you?

She will be 5 years old in October, she has Down syndrome and has had a heart surgery. She is currently living at Maria’s Big House of Hope so I KNOW she is receiving amazing care and lots of love.

She is said to be spunky, helpful, curious and very loving. When she hugs, she snuggles in and pats your back as she hugs you. She’s very attentive and interested in everything that goes on.

When Daniela sits down on the floor, she likes for someone to plop down next to her and cuddle up close as she looks at a book or colors. She is sweet and patient while her nannies fix her hair. Whenever Daniela gets bundled up to go outside, she is so excited that she’ll clap her hands and sport her biggest grin!

Her file is currently on the Shared List so any agency can access it and help a family complete her adoption.