Home: 1 month

I find it nearly impossible to believe that we've been home a month already! In some ways it feels like he has lived with us forever. Sometimes it feels like we just got off the plane... (and into the rental car!)

It's a bit of a struggle to write honestly about the first month home. On one hand, there is so much "good" to highlight, and having prayed & worked so hard for so long to finally be where we are, you don't exactly want to talk about the more 'real' moments and the struggle that adoption and parenting can be and sound ungrateful. But then again honesty and a "front row seat" to this is what this blog has always been about, right?

And people.... sometimes this is HARD.  Elias is a scared toddler taken from everything familiar and transplanted somewhere where nobody looks the same, sounds the same, smells the same or acts the same.  The biggest struggle is communication- when I need to relay a message fast and raise my voice a bit ("No touch! The stove is HOT!") he gets his feelings hurt.  He's also a toddler, so his independence level is twice that of his physical ability and communicating through those moments frustrates both of us. One struggle that adoption adds into this equation is that typically we encourage our three year olds to be independent- to dress, feed, and do things for themselves. With an adopted child, we really encourage them to trust us enough to let us do things for them. He has had to watch out for himself for so long that he struggles to let us do things for him. We want to be able to feed him, help him, and do things for him.  We almost have to go backwards to go forwards- and sometimes he fights trusting us because it doesn't feel natural to him. His strong will is asserted most with meals. He does not like anyone touching his plate or his food- so much that me cutting his meat for him has resulted in a total melt down (even though without it cut he wouldn't be able to eat it.)  We have to give him room and let him assert some of his own territory, but at the same time need to help him past the struggle of needing everything exactly as he thinks it should be- so that meals aren't always a stressful time for him (for instance the school lunch line!).  There have been meals that I have to ask Madigan to allow me to cut her food or feed her bites from her plate so he can see we aren't taking food from each other. The communication is such a struggle here because he sees someone reaching for his plate as a threat- and no amount of my terrible Amharic can explain that I want to help cut his food so he can feed himself. Figuring out if the behavior is a toddler thing or an adoption trauma thing and parenting to that root cause can be a real struggle, no matter how many books you read or classes you take.

I want to be very clear that these moments of frustration and 'hard times' are exactly that- moments. But I wouldn't be doing any favors to paint some kind of perfect picture about how coming home is "happily ever after" immediately. Because some new mama home in the first month might be scouring friend's blogs praying that another new adoptive mama somewhere is feeling the way that she is in that moment....because I have been there and done that.  And if you're reading this, new mama- please know that these moments get easier, they get farther apart, and they get shorter. Even in four weeks. :)

The best part has been the time between these moments. Elias is resilient, intelligent and affectionate.  For what this child has gone through, I'm so impressed with his ability to adapt and overcome.  Our ability to communicate has made huge strides.  I've learned a few key Amharic phrases, and he knows a LOT of what I'm saying and asking.  He follows simple directions, and can say several words in English. Just this past week he has started stringing three and four words together to make sentences in English. When we can't speak, we can manage to act out in charade-like fashion what we are trying to convey and get our points across. This is really helpful when he starts to get frustrated because he knows that if he waits just a second we can manage to act out what we want. It has also helped with meal times, because acting out with Madigan what I want to do with him, or showing him what we are asking has given him enough trust in us that we aren't stealing his food. I think I get more kisses from him now at meal times than I do the rest of the day. He LOVES asking for seconds and then patting his belly and telling me 'belly full'.  It has resolved 75% of the issues he has with having his plate touched or food moved causing a melt down.  He also came home terrified of dogs- screaming and kicking when he could even see them through the door. Slowly but surely, with exposure and patience he has gotten very comfortable around them. He even spent part of the morning feeding one of our dogs out of the scoop on a tractor he has.

Mostly, it's been amazing to watch Madigan transition (rather abruptly!) from being an only child for seven years, to being a big sister (to a toddler!)  Having to share your parents is hard enough- but she has learned to share them with someone who can also take her toys and run away, who she can't communicate with very well, and who sometimes requires BOTH parent's attention.  She has struggled with that- and will tell you honestly if you ask.  It hurts her feelings when people she knows and loves start conversations with her by only asking about him.  But she also loves him just as fiercely.  She has been a saving grace in moments when he is melting down and Brett and I are frustrated.  He instinctively trusts another child, more so than he feels instinct to trust adults; and Madigan modeling behavior to show him we can be trusted has been a God-send.

Growing from a family of three to four hasn't been textbook perfection, but nothing about adoption ever is.  It's a dirt under the nails, blood, sweat & tears fight to grow and love and learn about each other in the process.

photo credit Jolie Green @ Hays Daily News

Four weeks down.  A lifetime to go!

Coming HOME!

I know it's overdue, but I wanted to share the story of coming home before I forgot any details!

We dropped Madigan off at her first day of school, and we took off out of town. We stayed the night in Washington DC before meeting up with another adoptive family from Tulsa (who's son was at the same orphanage and we had the pleasure of meeting on our first trip to Ethiopia!)  We were ready to go get our kids!! We boarded the long flight, and landed in Ethiopia on Saturday August 15th, where our in-country guide Semmi took us straight from the airport to Adama to the orphanage to get our boys!

We waited in a side room, and they brought Elias to us. He seemed hesitant at first, shy and scared. I don't know what they had told him before he came in but he seemed more timid than the first time we met him. I knelt down and started talking to him softly, and before long we were out playing soccer in the yard- something I'm sure was more familiar to him than sitting in a room with strangers. Elias- who was called Amir or "Ommy" as a nickname there- was called "the silent one" by the staff. I had asked if they thought he could not talk or if he chose not to- and was told that he will say words and obviously understands directions, but he does not speak more than a word or two. We have great resources for all kinds of therapy in our community so I wasn't concerned. We had a coffee ceremony at the orphanage and then we loaded up to go. 

We drove out of the orphanage gates, leaving all that was familiar to our son. Although I was overjoyed for that moment, and knew all that we had planned for Elias and the love we can show him- I cried leaving. For the loss he was suffering then, for the loss he had to suffer to end up there- for every struggle we had to get to him, and him to get to us... I cried. He fell asleep in my arms and we made it back to the hotel where we ALL took a little nap.
Within hours, Elias was comfortable with us. I went into the bathroom and shut the door for a minute, and I heard the tiny chatter of Amharic. When I came out, Brett told me he was talking to him. The same thing happened when Brett left the room and Elias and I were alone- suddenly this flow of chatter- none of which I understood- was coming out of 'the silent one'. By the second day, Elias was comfortable with both of us that alone in the room he would talk, smile, play and cuddle. When we went out to the hotel restaurant, however- the shy, silent child was back. But in our room, we got a glimpse of the tiny personality this boy has.
We loved the first few days of bonding, playing and getting to know him. Once we had his visa and immigration paperwork, it was time to head HOME!

When we checked into the airlines was when we had the first red flag. The woman at the desk checked our flight plan and saw that somehow we were not all on the same flight from DC to Chicago. She was unable to change it- so we made a quick (and expensive I'm sure) call to our travel agent to fix it. She said she had no idea how she didn't catch it, but would have it fixed before we landed. However we had to check our bags only to DC and then would have to recheck them in DC when we had a correct flight path. When we landed in DC we grabbed our bags, hustled through immigration and then hurried to recheck our bags with our new flight plan as instructed. The delay doing that kept us from reaching our flight to Chicago- and we had to go back to ticketing. The woman there was very helpful and got us on a flight into Houston to connect to Wichita so we wouldn't be too much later than originally planned to get to the airport and meet family waiting to welcome us home.

Meanwhile, in Houston....

Apparently they were canceling over 200 flights that day. After our flight was delayed four times, it was cancelled. We had family and friends in Wichita waiting on our arrival, I had been traveling for well over 36 hours at that point with a toddler who did not sleep the best and couldn't communicate with me- and I was DONE dealing. I wanted to be home, or at least moving towards my home- and we were suddenly stuck in Texas overnight at the very least.

I think there are moments in your marriage when you really work well as a team and you are a well oiled machine- those moments when you fall in love with your spouse all over again.
This was NOT one of those.
Brett took off for re-ticketing and left me standing in a crowded terminal with a cranky three year old strapped to me, both of us on the verge of tears and sweating. As he stood in line to get re-ticketed, I called our agent who confirmed we weren't getting out of Texas on a plane that night.
I burst into tears.
If you really know me well, you know I'm not a crier. My co-workers joke that maybe I'm missing a gene, but I rarely find anything so upsetting that it's worth crying over. Maybe it's my trauma training, but when faced with something you fix it and move on. This was not a moment I was able to tap into that power. I. Was. Done. I stood next to Brett in the giant cancellation line, and I let the flood gates open. Strangers passing by gave me sympathetic, slightly scared looks. The woman in line behind us tapped Brett on the shoulder and said "Is she OK?" Finally I got it together enough to say "lets just drive. please. It's interstate driving from here. Google it!" Brett got on his phone and confirmed it was about 9 hours drive. It was getting to be late afternoon and we would be driving all night. But I needed to be moving towards home. So he called enterprise and held a car for us. The kind woman behind us, we learned while waiting and after I got myself together a bit- was headed to her husbands graduation. She made several phone calls and learned that she wasn't going to be able to get a flight to get her there in time, and driving alone all night wasn't a great option. So I did what any sleep deprived, semi-delusional traveler would do... I invited her into the car with us. One more adult to help drive and it would get her where she needed to go in time. She accepted the invitation! We cancelled our tickets and requested a refund on the flight and waited for her to do the same- where we met three others who had the same idea. Then we had the even better idea- lets all go together!!
Before we left for the rental counter I was very clear: "Just so you all know, this child has been with us for FIVE days, he doesn't speak English, I don't speak Amharic, and he's never been in a car seat. This could be nine hours of pure hell, just so you're all aware." We all decided that we had been through airport security, and we would have been in a plane together anyway, so it was obviously the best option we had! I heard one girl on the phone say "well if the Ethiopian and US government cleared them, I'm pretty sure they're safe." Ha ha!!
Everyone agreed, so we packed up and got out of Houston about 9:30 p.m. We all took turns driving and praise GOD, Elias slept all but the last hour. He got fussy but we headed it off with gummy bears and cookies. Because, strong parenting.
Finally about 7 a.m. we arrived in Wichita at the airport and took a group selfie!! These four strangers who took a chance in the car with us will forever be the most amusing part of Elias' coming home story.

So much for the airport welcome home party, right? At one point when travel plans were falling apart, I texted the photographer- whom I have still yet to meet face to face- and she told me this:
"Our airport homecoming is kinda like our homecoming in heaven. It may take a while to reach the finish line, and it's definitely a stressful journey. But when we finally get there, with the cloud of witnesses waiting and cheering for us at the end- we will finally be HOME."
This picture was when we arrived to our home in WaKeeney- 55 hours of traveling, exhausted but together.

Her words are so true. And maybe the path we take isn't exactly what we had envisioned but in the end... Home is there. And how sweet it is to be HOME.