I know we are
way overdue posting pictures and news from Gotcha Day and our homecoming…sorry
about that! Our re-entry has been much, much tougher than we expected. I want
to briefly share about that, in the interest of not sugar-coating this kind of
adoption as all sweetness and light, and in the interest of giving our Winona
friends a heads up on what’s going on. There’s a dark side and a light side to
this—I’ll give you the “bad news” first, and then the “good news,” and throw in
some pics as a teaser for a more detailed post about Alex’s journey home
sometime down the road.
The short version is that while we are
enjoying having Alex at home, and enjoying being reunited with our other kids,
we are also physically and emotionally exhausted from our thirty days in
country plus a really grueling trip home. Also, we’re realizing the enormity of
what we’ve taken on—not that we went into this process naive about the
difficulties of adopting a child out of an institution, but reality is always
so much more specific and vivid than any intellectual understanding you might
have, right? And the reality is that our new son has a lot of needs—way more
than our other kids, who are “needy” enough on their own.
Add on top of that the fact that Alex is
especially needy at the moment. He’s been removed from the only home he has
known for most of his life and is now living with virtual strangers who can’t
understand (most of) what he is saying. He is off his very strict routine—every
day is different, and full of brand-new experiences, so how is he supposed to
know what to expect next? He isn’t sure he can trust us; he isn’t sure that he
is safe. And he has gone from lying in a crib 20+ hours per day to being active
for most of the day. No wonder he occasionally breaks down sobbing! So
parenting him is more intense now, because we’re trying to show him that he can
trust us—even when he gets really mad at us and acts out in ways that can be
scary.
Then there is our two-year-old, who is
displaying all the behavior you’d expect from the “baby” of the family who is
fighting to not be displaced by the new kid.
Combine the exhaustion with the intensity
of this adjustment and what do you get? Well, let’s say it has felt like
jumping out of an airplane and waiting for the chute to open—extremely stressful.
Both of us are stressed, but I for one (Jerry) have really hit the wall in a
big way. I haven’t been this miserable in decades.
That’s the dark side, the bad news, and
frankly, we’re not the only ones. I talked to the outreach nurse at the
International Adoption Clinic at the University of Minnesota today and she said
that our experience is not at all uncommon; it’s got to be higher for families
adopting special needs kids.
The good news is that the vast majority
of families work through the dark times to a new normal that is not only
functional, but joyful. And the good news is that we’ve got lots of help
getting there.
Throughout this journey, we’ve enjoyed
the support of family, friends, and community members. When things started
looking really grim around here, we got online with our post-adoption group and
one of the wisest things anyone said was to beg—not ask, but beg—for help. Duh,
why didn’t I think of that before? So I started begging. I called some friends
and asked them to come over to talk and pray, and they did. I called another
friend and asked her to put out the word that we could use meals for a few more
weeks, and she did. And she offered words of support, and a cool backpack
carrier to use with Alex. I called another friend this morning and asked for
help shopping for clothes for Alex (we didn’t know before we got him that he’d
be in size 2T at age five). We said we’d pay for them, of course. A few hours
later, she shows up with clothes that fit—including overalls, so his pants don’t
fall off as he’s crawling—and refuses to be paid back. Plus she brought us a
used jogging stroller!
Another friend has generously offered to
spend as much time over here as her schedule will allow. She spent almost the
whole day here today, allowing us to get Alex to his appointments and helping
with the kids and picking up medicine (melatonin to help me sleep). And a dear
priest friend stopped by to visit this evening as well, and to pray with us.
And that doesn’t count all the professional
help we’re lining up. We’re slated to visit the wonderful International
Adoption Clinic sometime in the next couple weeks, and our local health care
provider is referring us to the comprehensive neurological development center
in La Crosse, where we will get referrals to specialists who will be able to
help with the broad spectrum of Alex’s various challenges. And we saw our
family therapist today, too, who offered good insights and advice.
With so much help, we’re confident of
getting over this difficult hump and through to a “new normal,” even if it
takes months to get there.
The good news is also that Alex is
surrounded by love, all day long, and is clearly, clearly basking in it. And
that is a victory.
Comments are turned off for this post;
there are folks out there who will point to our experience as an example of why
international adoptions are evil. I just have to disagree; they are hard, but worth
it, even given that a few end badly. I appreciate other perspectives but don’t
have the energy to engage in that debate now.
Here's a pic of Alex playing catch with our priest friend:
