There's currently a documentary out entitled "Stuck". "Stuck" follows families as they deal with the struggles of international adoption, in particular adoption from Vietnam, Ethiopia, and Haiti. Although, we are not adopting from any of these countries, I was still hesitant to watch it. I've known about it for quite some time, yet, I had thus far managed to avoid it. I was afraid. Afraid I'd be upset. Afraid that we might have to struggle as these families have struggled. Just downright afraid.
Today I watched "Stuck".
First of all, I realized that Bulgaria is not Ethiopia, Vietnam, or Haiti. It is its own country with its own unique set of challenges.
Second, I realized that watching the documentary neither lessens or increases our own personal struggle. We've been waiting almost 32 months. Y'all that just four months shy of four pregnancies . . . granted they'd be back to back pregnancies . . . yes, we've struggled. The paperwork is a struggle. The wait is a struggle. And joyful though it may be, parenting, in its own right, will sometimes (a lot of times, ha!) be a struggle.
"Stuck" resonated with me even though our story is and will be different. There were so many parts with which I could identify. So much I understood not just with my head but with my heart. It reminded me of why we are doing this. It goes so far beyond saving an orphan. I watched it alone which was good because I may have had a few moments where I ugly cried. I have never learned the art of crying gracefully.
If you want to understand a little bit more about international adoption and what families go through on this journey, I encourage you to watch "Stuck". It is on both Netflix Instant and Amazon Prime. Just make sure you have a box of tissues handy. You're going to need them.
Join me in my adventures in parenting, adoption, marriage, faith, and life in general.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Sleep Battles
Andrew was born five weeks early, weighing four and a half pounds, only 17 inches long, and sound asleep. He wasn't ready to be born. My body kind of forced him out. His first few meals were with a feeding tube, but we soon discovered that he did have the sucking reflex. The problem? He couldn't stay awake to finish an ounce of formula/breast milk. For the first three weeks of his life we poured almost all of our energy into getting him to eat. Three weeks. 21 days. That's not that much time. Right? Hahahahahaha! It was an eternity in my book. We tracked every ounce. Every two hours, around the clock, we would start a feeding. It would take an hour to get an ounce (if that) down him. We would move his jaw to help him suck. We'd tickle his tiny feet to try to alert him. All newborns sleep. Most will also eat. But as I've already said, he wasn't ready to be here. After he was fed, I'd take an hour break to pump (I quit at three weeks . . . don't judge or do judge . . . I don't care . . . survival was the word of the day). If I was lucky I'd get to eat or maybe sleep, and we'd start All. Over. Again. It was without a doubt the most terrifying and emotionally and physically exhausting period of my life. We had to make sure this child ate and gained weight, or we'd end up back in the hospital. We had to take him for weigh ins regularly, and the doctors monitored him very closely. Through it all, he slept. (My admiration for parents of micro preemies is huge. I am in awe of those of you who spend months, and sometimes years, fighting battles brought on by prematurity. Three weeks was hard. I cannot imagine how exhausting three months, three years, and beyond must be.)
At three weeks old, Andrew woke up.
And he's been fighting sleep ever since.
It took months to get him into a wake/sleep pattern that made any sense. For an entire year he got up every night for at least one feeding. And even if I believed in letting him cry it out, which I didn't and I don't, I couldn't because he was so small and needed to eat.
Fast forward to 18 months. He was sleeping fairly well. Taking a nap everyday (hallelujah!). And I thought we were through the worst of the sleep battles. Then he decided that it would be fun to get up every night between the hours of 2:00 and 4:00 a.m. and run like a banshee through the house. Not funny.
We tried everything we could to stop this. Nothing worked. I've never been a fan of co-sleeping except on a rare occasion, and I wasn't about to start at 18 months. One night, out of sheer desperation, I looked at my hysterically laughing child and said, "I don't care what you do. I don't care if you run around your room for the rest of the night. I don't care if you sing, talk, or play. I'm not doing this. You will stay in your room. And I shut the door and went and laid down on the couch." Prompt colossal fit of the year, that thankfully only lasted 10 minutes, before he fell asleep on the floor.
For the most part, our sleep battles got slightly better as Andrew got older. But he's never gotten on board with the whole idea of sleeping. He stopped napping at three because if he napped for any substantial amount of time he wouldn't go to sleep at night. It's not that he needs less sleep or that he's hyperactive. It's that he hates to sleep. Every night he tries to negotiate to stay up later. It doesn't work, but I admire his persistence. He thinks he'll miss something important or exciting if he's sleeping, and much like me (I'm not a huge fan of sleep myself, but it has grown on me as I've aged ;)), he needs to unwind in order to fall asleep.
The solution: books. It started with picture books a few years ago. He would ask to look at one after we tucked him in, and I decided to let him. Many nights, I would walk in to find him asleep with the book open. Sometimes the book would be on his face. I've often wondered why he's this way, and the other night, when I fell asleep while reading and dropped my Kindle on my face, I realized it just might be an inherited trait.
I hope and pray that our next child likes to sleep. But I also know that adopted children sometimes struggle with sleep. And that's okay too. I have no plans to isolate her if she struggles to sleep. What we will do will be determined as we go along. Until then, I'm going to sleep as much as possible in preparation for however much sleep I might lose in the future. :)
At three weeks old, Andrew woke up.
And he's been fighting sleep ever since.
It took months to get him into a wake/sleep pattern that made any sense. For an entire year he got up every night for at least one feeding. And even if I believed in letting him cry it out, which I didn't and I don't, I couldn't because he was so small and needed to eat.
Fast forward to 18 months. He was sleeping fairly well. Taking a nap everyday (hallelujah!). And I thought we were through the worst of the sleep battles. Then he decided that it would be fun to get up every night between the hours of 2:00 and 4:00 a.m. and run like a banshee through the house. Not funny.
We tried everything we could to stop this. Nothing worked. I've never been a fan of co-sleeping except on a rare occasion, and I wasn't about to start at 18 months. One night, out of sheer desperation, I looked at my hysterically laughing child and said, "I don't care what you do. I don't care if you run around your room for the rest of the night. I don't care if you sing, talk, or play. I'm not doing this. You will stay in your room. And I shut the door and went and laid down on the couch." Prompt colossal fit of the year, that thankfully only lasted 10 minutes, before he fell asleep on the floor.
For the most part, our sleep battles got slightly better as Andrew got older. But he's never gotten on board with the whole idea of sleeping. He stopped napping at three because if he napped for any substantial amount of time he wouldn't go to sleep at night. It's not that he needs less sleep or that he's hyperactive. It's that he hates to sleep. Every night he tries to negotiate to stay up later. It doesn't work, but I admire his persistence. He thinks he'll miss something important or exciting if he's sleeping, and much like me (I'm not a huge fan of sleep myself, but it has grown on me as I've aged ;)), he needs to unwind in order to fall asleep.
The solution: books. It started with picture books a few years ago. He would ask to look at one after we tucked him in, and I decided to let him. Many nights, I would walk in to find him asleep with the book open. Sometimes the book would be on his face. I've often wondered why he's this way, and the other night, when I fell asleep while reading and dropped my Kindle on my face, I realized it just might be an inherited trait.
I hope and pray that our next child likes to sleep. But I also know that adopted children sometimes struggle with sleep. And that's okay too. I have no plans to isolate her if she struggles to sleep. What we will do will be determined as we go along. Until then, I'm going to sleep as much as possible in preparation for however much sleep I might lose in the future. :)
Friday, April 25, 2014
Easter and More
Easter weekend was busy and fun. These are couple iPhone pics I snapped. I have real pictures, but they are on Patrick's camera which is at work with him. These will have to do.
Before church on Sunday, I wanted a picture of Andrew in his Easter clothes. Is this too much to ask? Y'all I kid you not, you would've thought I was subjecting him to some form of torture. I got a couple pictures before I gave up. It wasn't worth a fight on Easter morning.
The other day, I walked outside to find that my garden had literally grown overnight. Everything is blooming and growing. I love Texas in the spring. It's like Texas in technicolor. The colors of everything are bright and vibrant. But we are slipping back into a drier pattern, and we are once again praying for rain.
This post is a bit skimpy. I'll do something more substantial soon, but that's pretty much the rundown. We're busier than ever, but it's good. And we're waiting (sometimes) patiently for the day we receive a referral for our little girl. Talk to y'all later.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Good News
But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5 NKJV)
And He, bearing His cross, went out to a place called the Place of a Skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha, where they crucified Him, and two others with Him, one on either side, and Jesus in the center. Now Pilate wrote a title and put it on the cross. And the writing was: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. Then many of the Jews read this title, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. Therefore the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but, ‘He said, “I am the King of the Jews.” ’ ” Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.” Then the soldiers, when they had crucified Jesus, took His garments and made four parts, to each soldier a part, and also the tunic. Now the tunic was without seam, woven from the top in one piece. They said therefore among themselves, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be,” that the Scripture might be fulfilled which says: “They divided My garments among them, And for My clothing they cast lots.” Therefore the soldiers did these things. Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, “Woman, behold your son!” Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother!” And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home. After this, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, said, “I thirst!” Now a vessel full of sour wine was sitting there; and they filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on hyssop, and put it to His mouth. So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit. (John 19:17-30 NKJV)
No matter where you are today . . . no matter what you've done . . . hopeless or happy . . . at peace or in turmoil . . . there is a Savior. His name is Jesus. He gave everything so that you could live. He was crucified for sins He never committed. He hung on the cross and took all the sins of the world, past, present, and future, upon Himself. Can you imagine the absolute darkness that descended upon Him as he did that? Can you fathom having the face of God turned from you? Yet, He willingly did it for you and for me. He died on that cross while others jeered and ridiculed, and He was quickly placed in a borrowed tomb. But here's the good news, the reason we celebrate, that tomb was only temporary. That grave couldn't hold Him. On the third day He arose victorious over sin and death.
But Mary stood outside by the tomb weeping, and as she wept she stooped down and looked into the tomb. And she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. Then they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him.” Now when she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” She, supposing Him to be the gardener, said to Him, “Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to Him, “Rabboni!” (which is to say, Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, ‘I am ascending to My Father and your Father, and to My God and your God.’ ” Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that He had spoken these things to her. (John 20:11-18 NKJV)
On Friday we remember His sacrifice, and on Sunday we celebrate His victory. Do you know this Jesus? The One who came to wash away your sins? Have you asked Him to live in your heart? Have you accepted His salvation and forgiveness? It's not difficult. You don't need a pastor or a priest. All you need are your words. Just tell Him. Tell Him you want Him to be your Savior. Ask Him to forgive your sins. He will. That's a promise.
That if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. (Romans 10:9 NKJV)
And He, bearing His cross, went out to a place called the Place of a Skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha, where they crucified Him, and two others with Him, one on either side, and Jesus in the center. Now Pilate wrote a title and put it on the cross. And the writing was: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. Then many of the Jews read this title, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. Therefore the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but, ‘He said, “I am the King of the Jews.” ’ ” Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.” Then the soldiers, when they had crucified Jesus, took His garments and made four parts, to each soldier a part, and also the tunic. Now the tunic was without seam, woven from the top in one piece. They said therefore among themselves, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be,” that the Scripture might be fulfilled which says: “They divided My garments among them, And for My clothing they cast lots.” Therefore the soldiers did these things. Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, “Woman, behold your son!” Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother!” And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home. After this, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, said, “I thirst!” Now a vessel full of sour wine was sitting there; and they filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on hyssop, and put it to His mouth. So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit. (John 19:17-30 NKJV)
No matter where you are today . . . no matter what you've done . . . hopeless or happy . . . at peace or in turmoil . . . there is a Savior. His name is Jesus. He gave everything so that you could live. He was crucified for sins He never committed. He hung on the cross and took all the sins of the world, past, present, and future, upon Himself. Can you imagine the absolute darkness that descended upon Him as he did that? Can you fathom having the face of God turned from you? Yet, He willingly did it for you and for me. He died on that cross while others jeered and ridiculed, and He was quickly placed in a borrowed tomb. But here's the good news, the reason we celebrate, that tomb was only temporary. That grave couldn't hold Him. On the third day He arose victorious over sin and death.
But Mary stood outside by the tomb weeping, and as she wept she stooped down and looked into the tomb. And she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. Then they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him.” Now when she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” She, supposing Him to be the gardener, said to Him, “Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to Him, “Rabboni!” (which is to say, Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, ‘I am ascending to My Father and your Father, and to My God and your God.’ ” Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that He had spoken these things to her. (John 20:11-18 NKJV)
On Friday we remember His sacrifice, and on Sunday we celebrate His victory. Do you know this Jesus? The One who came to wash away your sins? Have you asked Him to live in your heart? Have you accepted His salvation and forgiveness? It's not difficult. You don't need a pastor or a priest. All you need are your words. Just tell Him. Tell Him you want Him to be your Savior. Ask Him to forgive your sins. He will. That's a promise.
That if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. (Romans 10:9 NKJV)
Sunday, April 6, 2014
My Bluebonnet Obsession
People often say that Texas has only two seasons . . . summer and winter. Well, I beg to differ. We actually have three seasons . . . summer, winter, and "Bluebonnet Season". And if you've spent more than ten minutes in Texas in the spring then you'll understand the level of obsession that we have for these little blue wildflowers. You'll see us pulled over on the side of the road; our babies plopped down in a sea of blue, that is quite possibly home to a snake or two, trying to get the perfect Bluebonnet picture. And we do this year after year. Because we can't pass by a field of perfect Bluebonnets.
This first group of pictures were taken out at my parents' house. Andrew wasn't thrilled to have to take pictures right in the middle of a patch of wet Bluebonnets, but I didn't let his lack of enthusiasm stop me.
The other day I was out running, and I looked to over to the side and saw this. Gorgeous.
And to continue my obsession I drug Andrew out to the state park to take some pictures of the Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrushes.
This last picture is my absolute favorite, and it's not one I took. The other day my Aunt Susie sent me this picture of the field beside her house. It's just too breathtaking not to share (so I hope she doesn't mind).
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