Drive, Alex, drive!

As Alex's Botox and phenol treatments have gradually helped his legs loosen up, we've seen a lot of improvement in his ability to move...he is frequently asking to "walk" (while holding on to our thumbs). He needs improved leg strength and his brain needs to learn how to balance his body standing up, but if he is able to pull those two pieces together, I think we're going to see him walking with canes within the year.

Here is another milestone. Alex's grandma had picked this little scooter up for him prior to his arriving home. Well, he wasn't able to balance on it, much less make it go, for the longest time. But just the other day, he figured out not only how to balance, but how to make it go. Here's what it looked like:

Alex in the news

Our local paper did a big front-page story on Alex on Christmas Day. You can read the article here:

http://www.winonadailynews.com/news/article_8ba702ae-4e12-11e2-8b38-001a4bcf887a.html

Run, Alex, run!

Alex received Botox and phenol injections on Tuesday. Today, just two days later, we're already seeing such a huge difference in his muscle tone and flexibility--and Alex has noticed, too. He could tell that something was different! And once he figured that out, he wanted to do a lot of walking and standing with assistance. To fully appreciate the following video, it helps to have seen him try to walk before. When he tries to walk without having his legs strapped into a walker, they "scissor"--each leg gets drawn in front of the other by the tightness of the abductor muscles in his leg. Having his legs constantly want to cross at the ankles makes it very difficult to walk--he needs to keep pulling one foot out from behind the other.

But today, he spent almost 45 minutes voluntarily walking around, with minimal support for balancing purposes. He was thrilled; in the video, you will hear him say, "Run! Run!" While he isn't exactly "running" yet, this is a HUGE breakthrough:




And the best news of all is that this is just the beginning. The effects of the Botox and phenol should continue to increase for the next month or so, opening up a window for more effective physical therapy.

On another note, we are still collecting money to send to Alex's old orphanage in time for the Ukrainian Christmas. If you are interested, please contact us by Jan. 1.

Botox and Phenol Injections

Some of you know that Alex was scheduled for a little outpatient surgery today at Gillette.  He is getting what many kids with CP get in this country, botox injections in especially affected muscles and phenol injections on a couple of nerves.  The idea is to weaken the hypertonic muscles and interrupt the message the muscles are receiving from his brain to overtighten certain muscles.  The effects are temporary but usually significant.  It should help him walk better and stretch his arms better, although the bigger issue may be making sure his muscles can stay relaxed enough that his legs don't contract out of his hip sockets.

Anyway, the phenol requires general anesthetic, so I was a little concerned, but Alex sailed through like a champ.  I was able to go back with them while they put the ether mask on him, and he was very calm throughout.  Waking up later, he began crying.  I asked him if he hurt (I even threw in the Russian to make sure), and he emphatically said no.  I asked him if he was scared (we think he knows the term now), and he also retorted no.  Our best guess was just that he felt disoriented and "weird" from the anesthesia.  He calmed down in 5 minutes with the help of a promised popsicle.  Halfway through the popsicle, he began asking to go home now.  OK, then here we go!

We should see some kind of results in a week or maybe less, gradually increasing until the 1-2 months out mark, and then decreasing.  This will likely be a 3x a year thing, although not always with the phenol, which lasts longer.  We'll keep you posted!

A Christmas present for Alex's orphanage?

Sorry we haven't updated as much recently...we have photos, we have news...what we lack, especially during the holiday season, is time!

I did want to briefly share with you our plans to make a small monetary donation to Alex's orphanage, to be used as the director sees fit. You might recall that the money we donated out of Alex's state-sponsored fund was used for meat and seven real windows, to keep out the freezing cold. There are millions, if not billions, of needy people in the world, and many worthy causes. We happen to have a personal connection to these children, so we will do what we can.

We are not actively fundraising for this, but if anyone wants to "add on" to our contribution, please feel free to do so. We are currently waiting to get the okay to move forward from the team in Ukraine. We hope to have something to them by Jan. 7, the date for Orthodox Christmas this year. If you'd like to participate in this, please drop us a line or leave a comment on this post.

Alex at five and a half months

We know that when we start hearing a lot of “How’s Alex doing?” questions, it’s time for an Alex Update, so here you go!

Let’s start with his physical medicine and rehabilitation appointment at Gillette Children’s Specialty Healthcare on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. We spent the hour we had with Dr. Najarian peppering him with all of our pent-up questions. Some key developments:

• Alex should be able to be toilet trained, in the sense that he is intelligent and shouldn’t have any cerebral palsy related problems with bladder/bowel control.
• Alex should be able to walk “independently” someday, with the aid of a light walker or possibly forearm canes.
• Alex is going to start getting Botox and Phenol treatments in his legs. These chemicals basically block neurotransmitters so that the message from his brain that constantly tightens his muscles is partially blocked, reducing the “tone,” or “tightness,” in his muscles. We’re waiting on paperwork to be finished to know exactly when he can start this local tone management, but we expect the first treatments to start within the next couple of months. The shots will need to be repeated every three months. Fortunately, they sedate the children so they don’t remember the experience and it isn’t as painful.
• The doctor also wrote a prescription for Alex to get a special seating device called Seat2Go. This device will provide the stability Alex needs to sit up straight and not worry about falling over, which in turn will allow him to focus on other tasks—like eating with two hands, other fine motor skills, etc.

Besides the good news out of the appointment, Alex has continued to make progress almost daily on all fronts:

Language

Alex’s English continues to improve steadily. He has completely stopped using Russian, and readily repeats any new word that seems significant to him. The more we see of his language development, the more we suspect that he never had enough language exposure growing up to really develop basic language skills even in Russian. In other words, our suspicion is that he is not only learning a new language, but in many areas, we think he may be learning language skills for the first time.

How well is Alex speaking? We think his vocabulary may be around 500 – 1000 words, although his sentence structure more resembles a three-year-old’s. Our toddler is more fluent than Alex, with a greater vocabulary and understandability, but Alex is catching up fast. His articulation is frequently poor. Those of us who work with him regularly can understand him well enough, His speech therapist believes his articulation will resolve (or at least improve) on its own, although he will probably need to work on it with someone down the road.

Alex clearly understands more than he says…a big clue being his improved ability to hold very simple back-and-forth conversations with grandparents on the phone.

Some favorite words and phrases that we hear from Alex: “Thank you!” “Almost all done?” “Have a nice day!” (to sibs leaving for school) “Okay!” (This last one you have to hear to appreciate, because he has this cute sing-songy way of saying it.) Many of his sentences begin with the words, “I want,” which is not surprising, given how important it is to be able to express needs/wants; I know I learned the Russian equivalent and used it frequently. He still relies heavily on single words to convey an entire thought or idea.

Social

Alex has just recently started interacting with his older siblings in a more intentional way. He can say all of their names (except Matthew’s) very clearly, and calls on them to play or to help him with his needs. He enjoys playing with his older sibs, and can actually wait to take turns and interact appropriately in most instances. One of his favorite things to do is to “ride” with Julia on a little scooter that his grandparents bought him; she uses her feet to propel it quickly around the house, which of course he loves; he grins and shouts, “Dad! Dad! Bye!”

His interaction with Matthew is much more limited, probably because their relationship is so ambivalent, and he knows Matthew’s ability to understand and help him is very limited. As far as I know, he does not interact with other kids at school on a regular, first-name basis.

Over Thanksgiving he got to meet his eighteen cousins on my side of the family…all at once, which was a little overwhelming…but the Gundrum boys took him under their wing and helped him to play some football, which he really enjoyed.

Overall, his social interaction is warm and friendly, and seems pretty typical for a kid his age, if you account for the impact of his orphanage experience. His psychologist and therapist are both extremely pleased with his level of attachment and social interaction. “Amazing” and “awesome” and “wonderful” are words they use a lot.

Physical/mobility

Thanks to the school district and friends with kids with disabilities, Alex has been accumulating a small fleet of mobility devices—a tricycle, a walker, two different wheelchairs, and a mobile stander. His current obsession is with the small wheelchair that he can use to get around the house. Because that wheelchair fits into our van easily, he also takes it out and about.

Getting PCA services at home as well as physical therapy every day at school has meant that Alex spends most days doing lots and lots of exercising and movement, and that’s showed in terms of his ability to sit up, stand up, and otherwise do what he wants physically.

And…I am going to have to say, “To Be Continued,” because it’s late and I need to get to bed!

Remembering Henry

Little Henry Augustin Dobrovits passed away yesterday afternoon.Henry was the two-year-old son of Paul and Carla Dobrovits, who adopted him from Ukraine last year. You can read a summary of their amazing story -- and the impact it has had -- here.

 Very early in the process of adopting Alex, we called up Carla to get the scoop on what we might expect. Carla and Paul had just returned from Ukraine within the past few months, and Henry was in the same baby house as Alex (before Alex was transferred), so it made sense to talk to Carla. She spent an hour or two answering all our stupid questions and offering every piece of advice she could think of...in between dealing with her seven kids, including Henry (who we got to hear in the background!). Carla was so full of energy, and so enthusiastic and on fire with her faith...we hung up the phone much better informed, and inspired by her example and can-do spirit.

That spirit has been tested in recent weeks, as you can read on her blog, Bringing Henry Home. Her family adopted Henry knowing that he had a life-threatening condition that would have killed him had it been left untreated...as I understand it, his spine was growing in such a way that it would eventually have prevented him from breathing. In the past few weeks, Carla left her family and traveled to Pennsylvania with Henry for him to have surgery to correct that condition. It sounds like it was a quite an ordeal, but they implanted some rods in his back that were supposed to correct the growth. When they came home on Nov. 15, Henry was very happy to be home.

A few days later, he developed a fever from an infection related to the surgery. Just an infection, right?

So yesterday I am checking e-mail and Facebook correspondence after a day spent down with the stomach flu, and while I am on Facebook, Carla posts that Henry's vent "crashed." Of course, people respond immediately with promises to pray. About half an hour later, Carla posts again that the medical team managed to bring him back after losing his pulse for two minutes. She is relieved, and so are we.

And ten minutes later, she posts that his vent crashed again. And then we don't hear anything more until later in the day. "Henry is finally home," she posted on her blog. "His ultimate home. The home where it was my job, as his mommy, to deliver him."

In the midst of the worst nightmare any parent can imagine, Carla and her family continue to live in a way that points to the ultimate source of all that is good and light. Once again, they are an inspiration to us.

Please pray for them as they celebrate his life at his funeral Mass on Saturday at 10 a.m. (Chicago time). Please pray for them in the weeks ahead. Pray in thanksgiving for the gift they were to him, and vice versa, during the year they had together.

If you feel so moved, you may also wish to make a donation to the family to defray their medical and funeral expenses. You can do so via the Chip-In widget below, or directly to their Paypal account at Dobspc@aol.com. Or e-mail us and we will send you their address.

A thank you note to the (more than) 296 people who helped bring Alex home

This past Thanksgiving weekend, we were particularly thankful for a new member of our family...a certain six-year-old Ukrainian boy with inquisitive, hopeful eyes and a bright smile and a ready laugh...a certain little boy who, yes, has turned our lives upside down...but what would life be without a little shaking up now and then?

This seems like a good time to remember in a more specific way the many people who have made it possible for us to bring Alex home. I started compiling this list back in the summer, and spent a good chunk of Thanksgiving weekend trying to finish it up.

Turns out, there are a lot of people who have helped us out with this adoption.

Two hundred and ninety-six, by my count.

That’s a conservative estimate, because that total doesn’t include every member of some of the groups of people who made the adoption possible, and it also doesn’t include all the people we have inevitably forgotten. (Our apologies in advance; we’re relying on our memory to compile this list from a very busy fourteen months.)

I doubt that anyone will actually read this entire post—it spans nineteen pages in Word—but the act of compiling it has been a blessing in itself. I think of this list as a sort of beautiful quilt, stitched together from many different pieces. The hundreds of people listed in the following nineteen pages are mostly strangers to one another, and yet they all came together for the sake of something very good:

Yeah, we wouldn’t be looking at that smile today if it weren’t for all of you. Thank you so very much!

People who took care of Alex and who laid the groundwork for his adoption

Let's begin at the beginning by saying thank you to Alex's parents, who gave him life. It was not the easiest choice, but they could have chosen otherwise, and they didn't. We pray for them and hope for a happy reunion with them in the eternal light of a loving and merciful God.

We offer heartfelt thanks to the many kind Ukrainians who cared for Alex in his first five and a half years. The unknown doctors, nurses, and caretakers at the hospital that became his first home deserve our gratitude for keeping Alex alive and minimizing the consequences of his premature delivery. It would have been easy to give up on a very low birthweight baby, but they didn't.

The unknown workers and caretakers at his second home, the Kirovograd baby house orphanage, deserve our gratitude for showing him love, and caring for him, as best they could, given their lack of resources.

The dozens of caretakers at the Znamyanka orphanage for children have a special place in our heart for the care they provided Alex during the nine months we spent plowing through blizzards of paperwork in order to adopt him. An institutional orphanage, no matter how good, is no place for a child. As much as the children may have been deprived, though, they were not deprived the genuine love of their caretakers. Alex's psychologist at the International Adoption Clinic as well as his therapist here at home have been very impressed by how well he has formed emotional attachments and appropriate social relationships since his arrival. This is not necessarily a "given" for internationally adopted children, too many of whom experience deliberate abuse or neglect. If Alex shows a (mostly) happy temperament and an ability to form normal human relationships, it is his Ukrainian caretakers who deserve the credit.

Andrea Roberts founded Reece's Rainbow orphanage ministry just a few months before Alex was born; her work and sacrifice, along with that of countless volunteers, has changed the lives of hundreds of special needs children who would have otherwise lived short, boring, painful lives, deprived of familial love. Alex is one of those “Rainbow kids”—a special fraternity that we hope grows and flourishes in coming years.

Among those volunteers were Amber C. and Joanna R., both of whom became active advocates for Alex. They spread the word about his availability for adoption, and started the Adoption and Awareness for Alex Facebook page. Before we ever committed to Alex, that page had more than 100 followers, and Alex’s Reece’s Rainbow fund had more than $7,000 in it. That “head start” on fundraising can be put down to their tenancious advocacy for Alex over the course of a year. (Amber and her family recently committed to adopting a child of their own; we wish them blessings and joy in their journey. Joanna is a remarkable young woman who has travelled the world serving and advocating for orphans. Whatever path she ultimately chooses in life in terms of a career, it’s clear she already is deeply committed to joyful sacrifice for the sake of the most vulnerable, and we wish her all the blessings of that vocation.)

We know from our contacts with other families adopting special needs children internationally that not everyone thinks this is a particularly good idea. We've heard stories of friendships lost, family members cutting off communication, and more than a few "discouraging words." We count ourselves lucky to be surrounded by friends and family members who may think we're crazy or impractical, but who support us anyway--or at least express their genuine concerns in constructive ways. Thanks to all of you who offered early words of encouragement. They matter more than you know, because an important element of discerning God's will involves listening to the wisdom of wise and caring people. On a purely practical level, we knew from the beginning that we could only do this with serious help. Without your support, we would have had serious reason to reconsider our decision.

Our bio kids (Ben, Maria, Julia, and Matthew) deserve special mention here. Without their support for this adoption, we would not have been comfortable moving forward. We talked about sacrifice from the very beginning, and they have made sacrifices in spades. (It’s character-building, kids! Someday you’ll thank us, really you will!) Their frequent prayers for Alex’s well-being prior to his arrival were the first glimmers of brotherly and sisterly love for him.

Mentors and spiritual companions

Sheila O., a long-time friend from my (Jerry’s) Catholic Worker days, played a special role in our discernment process. Sheila has cerebral palsy herself and has adopted three kids internationally. She offered sound wisdom and advice, as well as a sense of perspective, during  our discernment. Among other things, she pointed out that we would not hesitate to take on the challenge of caring for a child who was born to us with special needs, therefore, we would certainly be able to rise to the challenge of caring for an adopted child with special needs.

Jim and Barbara A. are dear, longtime friends from our local Catholic Worker community; even though they moved to Boston a few years ago, we have kept in touch. They were early supporters of Susan’s work with Reece’s Rainbow, even before we decided to adopt. When Susan was advocating for a boy with very involved cerebral palsy named “Anthony,” they worked with their son’s charitable foundation to top off his adoption fund, which made his adoption possible. We had many long conversations with them both before and after our decision to adopt Alex; their role as close spiritual mentors in this whole process led us to ask them to be Alex’s godparents. They were able to be present at his baptism, and helped out with the kids during their visit.

Perhaps more than any single group, the priests who have been close to our family were the most stalwart supporters of us making this seemingly crazy move. Fr. Andy Beerman listened to way too many “here’s the latest snafu” reports from Susan with patience and encouragement; his response was often to sit back and ask, “And where is God in this right now?” (Susan’s favorite line from him was: “God, being omnipotent, can work through anything—even foreign bureaucracies.”) Fr. Bill Becker, our pastor, reacted to the announcement with some surprise—and then immediately asked, “What can I do to help?” Fr. Becker was transferred in the midst of the adoption process, and our new pastor, Fr. Jim Berning, has also been a real support, assuring us he was praying for this adoption every day.  He baptized Alex this past July. We anticipated a very quiet baptism outside of Mass, nothing fancy; we didn’t want to stress Alex out, and also we knew Alex had likely already been baptized in Ukraine (even though we had no records). But thanks to Fr. Berning and pastoral associate Ann O., what we got was a full-blown liturgical celebration with all the bells and whistles. (N.B. to our evangelical friends: Not literal bells and whistles; we may be Catholic, but there are limits.)

Many of the people who attended the baptism were members of our parish’s Parenting with the Spirit group, which has been a steadfast source of support throughout this process.

The Reece’s Rainbow community of adopting families was an invaluable resource to us during our discernment. I seriously doubt whether we would have moved forward adopting a special needs child from Eastern Europe if it hadn’t been for this community. Besides offering practical advice and answers to our many questions, they shared their adoption stories in the forums and on their family blogs. Being able to read so many successful adoption stories reassured us that although this was a hard thing to do, it was definitely possible. Dozens of people provided advice and encouragement throughout this journey, but a few RR families in particular stand out.

Carla D. spent about 90 minutes with us on the phone sharing her story of adopting Henry and answering all our questions about the peculiarities of the Ukrainian adoption process (and what it’s like to live in Ukraine for several weeks). She was very encouraging, and has been a supportive friend throughout our entire journey.

Nancy and Andy shared their story of adopting Vanya on their family blog, which was of particular interest to us because they adopted from Kirovograd—the same city we thought we’d be adopting Alex from. (It turns out he was in another city about twenty miles away.) We talked with Nancy for about an hour over the phone to get a more specific idea of the Kirovograd situation, and conditions in the Kirovograd baby house that had been Alex’s home.

Chris and Leann P. adopted Anthony (the boy mentioned above). We’ve kept in touch with them because of Susan’s previous advocacy for Anthony (now “A.J.”). They also did a great job of documenting the ups and downs of their six weeks in country (in the middle of a brutal winter!), which helped prepare us for our own journey. A.J. lives with them in Iowa now—practically neighbors—and we hope to visit him within the next year or so.

Jennifer and Michael D. also shared their very unique adoption story online—yet another story that prepared us for our own journey. In addition, Jennifer sent us a wonderful care package for our journey—including a map of Kiev, several Russian-language courses, tights for Alex, a Ukrainian USB modem, and much more. (Jennifer and Susan finally met face-t0-face last weekend, meeting for a meal while Susan was traveling for work.)

Sandie F. travels to Eastern Europe every year to educate families and professionals about caring for Down’s Syndrome kids. She visits the Znamyanka orphanage on a regular basis, and is on good terms with the staff there. When we came across her blog, her descriptions (and pictures and videos) gave us our first real glimpse of the orphanage, so that it wasn’t completely unfamiliar when we actually stepped foot inside its doors. She answered questions and offered insights about Znamyanka on several occasions via e-mail and Facebook. She continues her work with the orphanage, for which we are grateful.

Locally, our friends Kate and Eric E. came over for brunch one Sunday to share their own international adoption story (they have two adopted children now), and to answer our questions. This was very early in our discernment process, so they were one of our early guides, and have offered practical support throughout the journey.

Laura and Ray F. shared the story of how they adopted their two daughters from Russia, and offered their support and prayers.

Jacquelyn K., who adopted a child from Ukraine back in the pre-Facebook days, offered her warmth and support and advice, and a listening ear, throughout the entire process. It is nice to run into someone randomly at the clinic who knows exactly what you’re going through!

We had more people praying for us throughout our adoption journey than we could possibly list here, even if we knew who they all were. However, a few specifically told us they were praying for us, and kept in regular contact, becoming “spiritual companions” to us during the adoption journey.

Rosie B. has been a faithful correspondent since the very beginning; she even gave up chocolate AND coffee as part of our prayer and fasting to move the adoption forward. She fasted until we got the date…which ended up being months, not weeks, of no chocolate or coffee. Wow. She also assembled a package of educational materials and resources that she uses in her work with special needs kids, and sent it to Alex; he has enjoyed exploring the many materials, which is great for his fine-motor development. Rosie and her husband are on their own adoption journey, and they are also opening their own hippotherapy riding stables. We have an open invitation to visit them in Memphis, which we hope to do next summer. (Isn’t it great how this adoption journey has forged new friendships???)

Rachelle L., a good friend of our friends Barbara and Jim A., has been another faithful e-mail correspondent and prayer partner, even composing a novena to St. Joseph for us. She is knitting hats for both Alex and Matthew! Her thoughtful insights have been food for the journey. We hope to meet her and thank her in person one day when we visit Boston.

The family of Laura and Barry P. have been a constant support; they and their five children prayed for Alex nightly in the process leading up to his adoption. A special shout out to uber-prayer warrior H—. Barry also dropped everything to come over to our house to pray with us in our darkest hour the week after we got back home. And he came armed with a Bible and some good Scripture!

Our families—including our many nieces and nephews—prayed for us throughout the adoption process. In addition, Susan’s Aunt Marge, who is a Daughter of Mercy sister, offered her prayers and the prayers of her community. Sister Julie G., who is sort of the Mother Theresa of Fairhope, Alabama (involved in lots of charity work), kept tabs on us through Susan’s mother (who volunteers for her every Friday), and offered constant prayers—as well as a stuffed orange crocodile that Alex calls “Croc” and takes to bed every night.

Todd G. and Laurie Z., whose family appears a few times in this account, have been friends and neighbors for many years. We asked them to be guardians (at least temporarily) of our children in the event of our deaths, in part because they live in the area and our children know them. Now, they have six children of their own already, but after consulting with their kids and praying about it, they agreed to the arrangement. (We joke that we will get extra fervent prayers for our continued health out of the deal.) This arrangement actually proved to be pivotal during our Ukrainian court hearing, during which we were asked what would happen to Alex in the event of our deaths (since we were “not young,” as the questioner put it). Being able to point to this family as our “back up” reassured the court, I’m sure.

Help with money

As soon as we formally committed to Alex, we set about raising the $17,000 necessary to adopt him. Fortunately, we had a $7,000 head start, thanks to the generosity of countless anonymous donors to Alex’s fund on the Reece’s Rainbow website.

Almost immediately, Jim and Barbara A. stepped forward to help us obtain the remaining funds we needed from their son’s charitable foundation. That extreme generosity allowed us to move forward with the adoption as quickly as possible without worrying about fundraising. (Most families adopting special needs children through the Reece’s Rainbow website spend an enormous amount of time fundraising; very few have the financial resources readily at hand.)

Although much of the adoption costs were covered by the funds donated through Reece’s Rainbow, we still had to pay about $4,000 for certain aspects of the adoption ourselves. This included fees for the preliminary paperwork, such as the home study; such fees aren’t generally covered by the Reece’s Rainbow grant. Fortunately, a number of “angels” stepped up to help us out by donating through the Adopting Alex website that we set up.

My sister Becky donated her hand-made rosaries for a give-away fundraiser. People rightly oohed and ahhed; they are just lovely.

Jim and Ann P., longtime high school friends of mine, were the very first folks to make a substantial donation; I still remember seeing the amount and being both humbled and encouraged. Humbled that others would step forward to help us, and encouraged that this seemingly impossible leap of faith might be possible.

Jerry’s brother Mark and his wife Meagan made a large contribution toward adoption expenses after winning big in their church’s raffle fundraiser. That contribution came just in time to cover a large unexpected expense (I don’t remember what, now)—another example of God smoothing the way for us. (Not that God influenced the raffle results, necessarily…although I guess you never know….)

One day we received a mysterious invitation for our family to attend a dinner at the minor seminary at Susan’s university (Immaculate Heart of Mary Seminary). We shrugged (although I wondered what was up!), attended Mass with them, and at the beginning of a really nice dinner we were handed a check for adoption expenses—from the seminarians, “topped off” by the seminary. When I expressed my thanks to Fr. Beerman, he smiled and said, “People want to be a part of something this good.”

Many other people followed suit. Many of these people know Susan through her Ironic Catholic blog and her work in the Catholic blogosphere. They include:

Sammuel B.

Margaret R.

Michael A.

Ray M.

Timothy C.

Alex E.

Scott D.

Mary T.

Bryan N.

John M.

Erin B.

Judith E.

J. S.

Mary Kay M.

Julie F.

Brian P.

Thomas L.

Stephanie Z.

Emily S.

Alice B.

Marie S.

Karen M.

Linda R.

Rebecca K.

Nicolle B.

Mary H.

Maureen M.

Amber C.

Mary M.

Nancy P.

Matthew L.

Catherine H.

Theodore P.

John B.

Chris J.

Kristina Anna M.

We also received financial support from our local network of friends and acquaintances. Some of those donated online:

Greg and Sue S.

Brian and Betty S.

Lorraine K.

Renee K.

Eileen H.

Ed K.

Mary F.

Nikki D.

Karen and Scott S.

Joe D.

Rob and Melissa G.

Donna K. and Eric C.

Others shoved money at us in person—at the store, at church, at our front door—for the many incidental expenses associated with the adoption. Every time someone handed us a check or cash and said, “I know it’s not much, but use it for…” was a reminder of God’s promise to accompany us on this hard journey.

I know we’re not remembering all of these (apologies in advance), but ones we remember include:

Mary Ann and John F.

The Rennie family

Laura and Ray F.

Katy S.

Suzanne B.

an unknown angel who sent us a gift card anonymously

Also, the children of Laurie Z. and Todd G. donated a big chunk of their own money toward the cost of Alex’s adoption at Christmas, and then sent us an assortment of gift cards to various restaurants and stores after Alex was home. Their family is a wonderful model of Christian stewardship.

Very early on, we put on a garage sale to help raise money for the adoption; we are grateful to everyone who donated items to the sale, particularly our friends and neighbors Ethan and Jill K., as well as everyone who bought something from the sale.

Angels amid the bureaucracies

The various U.S. and Ukrainian bureaucrats who regulate international adoptions to guard the children’s welfare are not, I confess, my favorite people. Nothing sets me (Jerry) off like bureaucracy and paperwork, which is why Susan handled the vast majority of our paperwork. (I just signed my name—very carefully—about a bazillion times.) However, we were fortunate to have a few patient and generous souls who guided us safely through the maze of rules, regulations, and requirements on the way to finalizing our paperwork. We even met a few bureaucrats and paper-pushers who went above and beyond the call of duty to help us out.

First among our guides has to be Nancy M.S., a Reece’s Rainbow volunteer who served as our U.S. liaison for the adoption. Reece’s Rainbow families who have worked with Nancy like to talk about her behind her back—along the lines of “How incredibly awesome is this woman?” In our case, our first encounter with Nancy was when she reviewed our first batch of paperwork from her HOSPITAL BED a day after hip surgery. Everyone hates the bureaucratic paperwork that goes along with international adoptions; it is our good luck that Nancy loves helping families to move through it, with the help of her spreadsheets and flow charts.

Kathy P. and the staff at the International Adoption Service, were wonderful about helping us to complete our home study and other required Minnesota paperwork. Again, we’ve heard horror stories, and feel lucky to have been guided by such competent professionals. Kathy was flexible in meeting with us, and was very careful to make sure we knew what we were getting into before we got too far into the process.

Although the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Service is notorious for its poor service to immigrants, its service to adopting families is generally very good. Our international adoption caseworker was very responsive and expedited our paperwork, for which we are grateful.

Thanks, I think, to the guy at the St. Paul USCIS office who didn’t send us packing all the way back to Winona when we showed up for our $900 fingerprints early, without an appointment, even though he clearly wanted to do so.

Which reminds me of the very nice sheriff’s deputy who took our fingerprints in the Winona County jail for our criminal background check. She was one of many strangers who poured out their own stories when they heard ours, and wished us luck and Godspeed. She can count it among her life accomplishments that she was able to make getting fingerprinted in a jail a genuinely pleasant and uplifting experience.

Jacquelyn at Winona National Bank served as our long-suffering (yet always cheerful) notary public for all our adoption paperwork. We must have walked through those doors a dozen times and had her notarize a hundred different documents—sometimes, the same document more than once—always with the gentle reminder from us that the Ukrainian government, bless its bureaucratic soul, does not accept documents notarized in black ink, or with a crooked notary stamp, or a notary stamp whose date does not match the date on the signature lines, or a notary signature that does not match the stamp, and there’s more but you get the point. What a trooper. Through it all, she was not only patient, but also enthusiastic about the adoption; we were pleased to bring Alex in to meet her when he finally materialized. (Yes, Jacquelyn, he is real!)

Her colleagues at Winona National Bank were equally gracious. Linda and a host of tellers spent a week sorting through one hundred dollar bills for ten thousand dollars’ worth of unmarked, unwrinkled bills that would meet the picky standards of the Ukrainian government. Kim T., who handled our home mortgage refinancing, not only shared the story of how she adopted her own daughters from Eastern Europe, but also expedited that paperwork to get everything finalized in a week (instead of in the usual month) so that all the paperwork was taken care of before we left for Ukraine. A handful of other WNB employees spent several hours pulling together financial documentation and figuring out how to wire money to Ukraine. I mention this because I am not sure we’d have gotten this level of service at one of the big corporate banks.

Another group of people who endured the slow torture of Ukrainian government paperwork with us would be our doctors and their staff at Winona Health. Mary and Bob, our doctors, completed paperwork for us…multiple times over, unfortunately. Bob parted with a copy of his medical license despite concerns about how that private information might be (mis)used. Bob also provided valuable information about cerebral palsy that factored into our discernment.

Preparing for Alex’s arrival

A few people also offered practical help.

Lorraine K. hooked me up with Elena S., a friend of Lorraine’s who moved here from Russia with her two daughters five years ago. Elena patiently tutored me in Russian most Sunday afternoons for about nine months. I will never forget that first session: “Don’t make your vowels so big—use a small mouth!” Elena was a stickler for clear enunciation. It is a compliment to her that our facilitator rated my pronunciation as “pretty good” (except on a few words). Elena donated all of this time as a way of supporting the adoption, in which she expressed great interest. We were thrilled to have her and one of her daughters over to meet Alex when he finally arrived.

We have two bedrooms for all our children; squeezing Alex in was a bit of an engineering challenge.

Eileen H. lent us her carpenter’s brain and pointed out much simpler solutions to our problem than I had in mind (she basically saved us from installing extra cabinets and shelving).

Brian S-T. did some electrical work for us, as well as some light carpentry work preparing Alex’s bedroom. He and his wife, Betty, also donated a desk that made the playroom and Alex’s bedroom safer for our curious little explorer (getting electrical strips and cords and devices off the floor). And Brian made a special trip over to the house while we were gone to help Susan’s mom fix her Skype connection.

Dan II spent about six hours assembling the mate’s bed for Matthew, which was necessary in order to free up space for Alex.

We knew we needed space at the dining room table for a new member, and put out a call for people to keep an eye out for a used dining room set that would seat eight. Trish J. spotted a beautiful used dining room table, and Tina S. spotted the chairs a few months later. Now Alex has a place at the table.

Folks who kept the home fires burning

A number of people made it possible for us to be absent from home for the month it took to complete our Ukrainian paperwork in country.

Susan’s mother bravely stayed with our other children for more than a month. Honestly we can’t think of many people who would be willing to single parent four lovely but energetic kids for that long. How brave was that? She comforted them when they were sad, set up daily Skype sessions, thought up all sorts of fun things to do, got them through the chaos of the last days of school and the first days of summer, and offered them loving discipline and guidance. And then she left to go home to Alabama, which may have been the hardest sacrifice of all. Plus, she spent a considerable amount of her own money in the process, including a sizable chunk to fix the air conditioning in our van, for which we were profoundly grateful during the rest of a hot, hot summer. Wow.

Susan’s father sacrificed the company and support of his wife for that entire month; not only did he not complain when the process ended up taking longer than expected, but he offered assurances of his love and support.

Laurie W., another one of our Catholic Worker friends, offered to serve as a backup to care for our kids if Susan’s mother had to return home for some unexpected reason. She also stopped by to help out with the children every so often, to give Susan’s mom a break.

Jerry’s mother visited our children while we were gone, giving Susan’s mom a break and bolstering the kids’ spirits, and also offered to serve as a backup for Susan’s mom.

Many friends, and a few people we barely know, brought meals for Susan’s mother and the children while we were gone, and then brought even more home-cooked meals in the first month that we were home. We will never eat so well ever again! Thanks to Kate E. for suggesting that we organize a meal train and then setting it up over my protests. (“We’ll be fine!” Wrong!) Among them were:

Kate E.

Annemarie D.

Mary F.

Sara M.

Marcy V.

Mary G.

Brian and Betty S-T.

Moira C.

Laura F.

Maria M.

Myoung L.

Shana J.

Nikki D.

Meghan S.

Suzie P.

Jody C.

Meredith D.

Carol M.

Tina S.

Kate N.

Anne W.

Patrice W.

Jean S.

Shirley O.

Shari J.

Eric N. and Deb N.

Deb S.

Marge M.

Joanna K.

Jill K.

Renee K.

Laura B.

Marla and Peter M.

Lisa G. and Bob W.

Steven and Jodi M. deserve special mention for giving us, like, 100 pounds of freshly processed beef (including steaks!).

People from throughout our extended community welcomed Susan’s mom and helped her navigate the kids’ world; a short list would include people at Parenting with the Spirit, Early Childhood Family Education, Bluffview Montessori School, and Saint Mary’s Parish. It was nice to come home and hear so many people say, “Susan’s mom is awesome!”

Help in country

About five different people offered to drive us to the Twin Cities at a truly obnoxious hour (5 a.m. or so), but it was our neighbor Todd G. who made the five-hour round trip for us. (Laurie Z. sent along muffins, of course, besides lending Susan her nifty laptop case at the last minute.)

The first person we met in Ukraine, and the last person we saw as we left, was Niko. Niko helped us change money, drove us into Kiev, set us up in our first Kiev apartment, introduced us to the young women at the minimart below the apartment, made sure we had Internet access (that lifeline to home), and generally tried to make us feel at home. On our way home with Alex, he endured our child’s endless requests with avuncular patience, got us through our medical appointment, took us to the U.S. Embassy, and got us to the airport on time. (“Wakey, wakey!” was his cheerful wake-up call at 3 a.m.) Niko was a constant source of good advice (“For heaven’s sake, don’t eat at McDonald’s! Let me tell you about this little place with authentic Ukrainian cuisine….”) and good humor.

Ludmilla K. is the person on the Ukrainian Reece’s Rainbow team who serves as the liason for all the families in country; she calls everyone once a day to make sure they are doing all right. She served as our facilitator because this was the first adoption out of this particular orphanage, and she wanted to establish a good relationship between the orphanage staff and Reece’s Rainbow. What can we say about dear Luda? She has truly given her entire life to this work. She lives on trains and in rented cars and on couches. She is “on call” 24 hours a day, seven days a week, sick or well. If the adopting parents whine about the paperwork, it is nothing compared to what Luda has to do—reviewing all of the parent paperwork before it is submitted, sending it back for corrections, negotiating with Ukrainian bureaucrats, and keeping all of the paperwork and timetables for multiple families straight, despite her constant traveling. Twice, she copied out lengthy documents BY HAND in the offices that required the copies in order to keep the process moving along. More times than I can recount, she did the hard work of diplomatically negotiating with bureaucrats and paper-pushers—winning their trust and appreciation with her sympathy, but also constantly pushing them to keep things moving along. If it weren’t for her, we’d still be in Ukraine, I’m sure. (Please don’t get hit by a bus, Luda.)

Besides guiding us through the paperwork, Luda also managed our expectations about the process, ordered meals for us at Ukrainian restaurants, bought us fresh strawberries when we were feeling down, coached us on what to say in court, made sure our apartment in Znamyanka had every basic comfort we might want (like hot water), shared many stories about her upbringing in Soviet-era Ukraine, walked miles and miles with us (literally) in high heels, and laughed with us after we all managed to light the ancient gas stove in the apartment. A woman of many talents, truly.

Serge Z. is the Wizard of Oz of the Reece’s Rainbow Ukrainian adoption world…he knows all the levers to pull and all the right people to talk to; plus, he very actively lobbies the Ukrainian government for changes in the adoption laws to make special needs kids more easily available for international adoption. Serge visited Alex in the Znamyanka orphanage shortly after Alex got transferred, taking a few pictures to reassure us that Alex was all right and letting the orphanage staff know that we hoped to adopt him. Serge also got us to Znamyanka very, very fast, introduced us to the orphanage staff during our first meeting with Alex, and treated us to a couple of authentic Ukrainian meals along the way. He continues to work with the Znamyanka orphanage, recently bringing the children new shoes and participating in the visit of an important government official. The work Serge does opens doors for more special needs children to be adopted, while also (indirectly) helping improve conditions at the orphanages.

Sherrie and Jim D. were friendly American faces in Kiev; they were also adopting, and we spent a lovely evening touring downtown Kiev with them; they offered lots of practical advice on the best places to eat and shop.

We met many kind and helpful Ukrainians during our visit…the nice young women at the minimart were patient with our gesturing and broken Russian, showing us where various items were and even showing us how to recharge our Internet account at the little MTC kiosk. We met three or four young people who knew English and did some translation for us when our broken Russian wasn’t doing the trick. There was a lady who sold fresh fruits and vegetables in the market who we visited every day, striking up a kind of acquaintance; she was kind and patient, even helping me change coins. In Kiev, we met an artist who spoke fluent English and who spent perhaps half an hour chatting with us about his story, and Ukraine, and asking us questions about our story; he sent us on our way with a small gift, and a sense of how our common humanity transcends nationalism.

Volodni drove us to and from the orphanage almost every day in his beat-up Soviet-era taxi, blasting some Ukrainian rock station and weaving all over the road in order to avoid potholes and oncoming traffic, waving and honking his horn at all the people he knew along the way (which was a lot of people). His cheerful greeting every morning was just what we needed to hear, transcending the language barrier between us. He also helped us change money at the local bank by using his own documents when they wouldn’t accept ours. (Perfectly legal, done right in front of them—they just had never changed money for foreigners before.)

Andre was our ubiquitous Ukrainian guardian angel in Znamyanka. We could never quite figure out his official title, but he was some kind of leader in the housing projects where we stayed for three weeks—like an unofficial mayor or something. In any case, he was a friend of Serge’s, and arranged our apartment for us—one of the best in town for the price, we were told. He had workers come and install satellite television (over our objections)—two guys came out and spent an hour hanging out our apartment window, six stories up, working on the satellite dish in order to get us 900 stations in foreign languages plus the BBC station (in English). He sent people to buy us new sheets, put up a shower curtain, and fix the hot water heater. He was at court before our hearing and then at the orphanage, meeting with the director, after the hearing. He hailed me on the street as I was wandering around trying to find fexofenadine, and then took me to the pharmacy (where everyone knew him) and made sure I got what I needed.

The staff at the Znamyanka orphanage were kind, welcoming, and understanding. We met many people there, but learned only a few names.

Yanna worked in Alex’s groupa most weekdays, and was an invaluable source of information about Alex’s routine and therapy. On our first day there, she introduced us to the owner of the nearby restaurant/bar, where we had lunch quite a few times over the next few weeks. She was assigned to be our minder during our first week of visits—boring, yawn-inducing duty indeed—and picked cherries for us from the orphanage on the grounds. Yanna even bought a Russian-English dictionary, bless her heart, in order to communicate with us better.

Lena, the assistant director, was always smiling, always stopping to talk to one child or another in a kind and gentle way. She had the manner of a saint, and was very gracious to us during our daily visits. She lost her only son to a car accident during our stay, which somehow seems the height of unfairness—to put it mildly. We were deeply saddened by her loss.

Tatiana, the director, showed us great hospitality and gamely worked with Luda to negotiate the complicated adoption paperwork—a doubly difficult task, given that this was the first adoption from that orphanage. She told us, “The children are loved here,” and we believe it—we saw that love in action. She has an icon of St. Nicholas, patron saint of children, above her desk. She grabbed my arm as we were preparing to leave and looked me in the eye and made me promise that we would send them updates about Alex, and we have. We count her among our Ukrainian friends.

We also received practical help from some of the older children and young adults at the orphanage, and enjoyed getting to know them.

Once again, we have to thank our Ukrainian adoption Facebook group for the tremendous support we received while in country. Our daily video calls to our families were an essential lifeline, but this group of strong and compassionate women were another kind of lifeline—people who had been there, done that. They offered tremendous emotional support throughout our stay, along with much practical advice about everything from what to do with Alex for three solid days in Kiev to negotiating the long flight home. (The best advice there being to buy Melatonin and crush it into something Alex could eat.) The few days after we picked Alex up from the orphanage were particularly harrowing. The night before we left, both Susan and I were on Facebook simultaneously getting advice from this group—me in the darkened bedroom with Alex, who was throwing a fit, and Susan in the other room packing, both of us seeking advice on how to get him to sleep. Unfortunately, we can’t find the record of those exchanges anymore, so it is impossible to list all of the twenty or so people who pitched in, but a few we think participated in those discussions are Renee A., Vera C., Lora L., Jennifer D., Carla D., Sara W., Julie N., Hope D., Breanne S., Carrie E., Nancy T., and Stephanie C.

On the way home

Our dreaded 24-hour trip home wasn’t as bad as it might have been, thanks primarily to the service provided by Lufthansa. They got us into a bulkhead seat, which made it possible for me to stretch my legs and for Alex to play on the floor. All of the Lufthansa flight attendants were attentive, but several took a special interest in Alex. One, a Russian-speaker, wanted to meet Alex and talk with him in Russian. Another brought Alex an extra ice cream sundae from the first class cabin. Two others let me hang out in the galley for an hour and a half while Alex was asleep in a baby sling.

We had prayed for God to accompany us on this journey, and what do you know? He sent a nun, in full habit, to sit on one side of us, and an entire group of Catholic pilgrims to sit behind us. The leader of the pilgrimage had overheard about Alex being adopted and asked us about his story; as in so many of these cases, sharing our own story led to us hearing someone else’s adoption story.

My brother and his family picked us up from the airport in Minneapolis, and graciously allowed us to spend our first night back in the United States at their house. Their children were very friendly toward Alex, bringing him gifts and offering kind words of welcome! After getting just four hours of sleep in the previous 48 hours, we were dead on our feet and promptly went to bed. Mark also took half a day off work to drive us two hours downriver to our home…the last leg of our journey.

Re-entry

As many of you know, our initial re-entry was rather rough—from the pent-up stress of the past month, from serious jetlag, from exhaustion, from the realization that the real work was just beginning—and that we had just imported all the negative consequences of Alex’s institutionalization into our home!

When I began to crash a few days after our arrival, I sought professional medical help. I have to thank a nice certified nurse practitioner (whose name I forget) for getting me some low-impact anti-anxiety meds right away, along with a follow-up appointment with a family practice doctor the next day. Ethan K. drove me and Matthew to that appointment (Susan was taking Alex to another medical appointment out of town), then took us to the pharmacy to pick up the prescription, and carted us over to McDonald’s while we waited for the prescription to be filled. Dr. T. was sympathetic and did not hesitate to prescribe more robust anti-anxiety drugs, along with some sleep medication that got me through the roughest patch.

We had hooked up with a family therapist, Ann L., prior to the adoption on the grounds that Alex would definitely need adjustment therapy. Well, as it turned out, we needed her help for the first few months more than he did! Over the past four months, she has been a compassionate listener with good insights and practical advice for how to “triage” our situation. She says we look better than when we first walked into her office in late June; we definitely have her to thank for helping us to improve.

Besides medical professionals, I also turned to our online adoption community for help. One of those people (I forget who) offered valuable advice: Now is not the time to cocoon (the standard advice for families that have recently adopted), but to reach out to your support community. Well, duh! I read that and reached for the phone and called Barry P. (mentioned above) and Laurie W., both of whom promptly came over for prayer and a good, long conversation.

Laurie W. followed up by pledging fifteen hours of help per week beginning in August (when Susan went back to work). She helped me with Alex and the other kids for three hours a day for about two months straight, gratis. She is a generous, wise, sensitive person who takes her spiritual life seriously…but as someone who used to be a social worker and who currently is a live-in volunteer at our local Catholic Worker community, she is also very down-to-earth and practical. Which is to say that she can change a poopy diaper or clean up spilled milk or form a plan for handling a complicated problem as readily as she can offer wise spiritual advice. Our whole family is incredibly lucky to count her as a friend.

Deb S. is a fellow stay-at-home parent who I know through Early Childhood Family Education, and the other person I thought to call right away. She has a wry wit, a devil-may-care practicality, and a deep warmth and compassion. An example of her style: she brought over a cooler full of filled water balloons for the kids to play with while we were in Ukraine. (It was still there when we got back; Alex had a great time using them in his first-ever water fight.) So I had no reservation about calling her up out of the blue and sharing our difficulties and then asking whether she and another ECFE friend would be willing to do some clothes shopping for us, since we were dealing with so much already and didn’t have time to track down 2T and 3T onesies and bib overalls. We asked for shopping help with the promise of paying her back, but of course she dropped off sacks and sacks of new clothes that fit perfectly and then refused payment. We got a used jogging stroller from her, too (I actually took Alex out in it today), as well as two lime-flavored alcoholic beverages. Yep, those were good. I think (but am not sure) that Meagan S. also helped with the shopping.

Others also brought us clothes and bibs: Laura F., Heather B., Barbara A.; there are more that I’m not remembering. Jody C. also brought over paper plates and other disposable dinnerware, which turned out to be really useful. She remembered appreciating that after her brother died several years ago. Kate E. brought over an infant backpack.

Marcy V. came over several times to help me with Alex and Matthew; she brought along fun crafts, like homemade sidewalk paint. Her mere presence was more help than she probably imagined. She also brought over lots of clothes and equipment for Alex—including a jumper, an infant stander, and a high chair that he still uses every day.

Katy S., my longtime parent education teacher (and Minnesota Teacher of the Year!) made a house call and lent a sympathetic ear while helping to prepare lunch for the kids. Ten years of classes with her have given us a big head start on this new parenting challenge.

Nikki D. and several other unknown benefactors bought us gift cards for a cleaning service (Maus in the House, run by the inimitable Carol M.)…we’ve still got a few hours to use up, which should be no problem, given the constantly messy state of our house!

I have already mentioned the many people who brought us meals in the month after we came home; to that list I should add Vera C., one of our very good online adoption friends, who sent us a very large Pizza Hut gift card that proved to be a lifesaver on more than one hairy day.

Donna K. and her husband, Eric C., made several visits in the first few weeks to help us care for Alex. Eric is a physical therapist, so he was able to show us how to “play” with Alex in a way that would double as physical therapy long before our first formal PT appointment. Donna is a CNP and offered her own medical advice, along with her usual sense of calm and composure.

One of the more practical challenges we have faced is making our home more accessible to Alex, and a big concern has been access from the garage during the winter, when the walkway between the garage and the house often becomes a wading pool or skating rink. Brian S-T. helped us brainstorm a practical solution to that problem; Eileen H. offered her carpentry expertise, and Nohj C. (the foreman for our local Habitat for Humanity) reviewed our plans to make sure we weren’t crazy. We essentially dismantled part of our massive deck and turned it into a raised walkway between the house and the deck. Brian S-T., Eric N., Bob T., Randy S., and Mike H. all donated their backs and tools to the deck destruction phase of the project, along with more courage and common sense than I had. Fifteen people showed up to move the deck: Dan W., Laurie W., Carol M., Eric and Kate E. (and their kids), Matthew B., Molly G., James, Rachel, Ethan K., Brian S-T., Todd G., Steven M., Randy S., Bob T., and Eileen H. (Our older kids helped out, too.) What a motley crew! We will think of each of you as we carry Alex to the house NOT falling on our butts due to a poor walkway.

The Winona area motor and mobility support group has also been an incredible resource in terms of helping us figure out which way is up in this new world we’ve entered. Pam F. and Amy S. spent two hours with me one night at the Ground Round, offering practical advice as well as names and resources. They followed up by loaning us all sorts of equipment, including a scooter, a very expensive Rabbit stander, a swing (which Alex drove into the ground), a wheelchair, a bath chair, and more. Annie C. and Meredith D., friends from church whose children have different impairments, have also offered practical advice and encouragement. These parents are amazing, yet hidden, heroes. They are experts in the arcane science of helping children with disabilities to participate in the life of their community—and they do it all with positive, can-do attitudes.

Anya (daughter of Elena S.) and Uyen V. came and assisted me with child care during the months of July and August, when Susan was at work and all of the kids were home. They were

great with the kids, and real life-savers in terms of my sanity.

Natasha (another daughter of Elena’s) provided translation services for us, gratis, at many of Alex’s initial medical appointments. We’re sure her gentle manner and her explanations of what was going on relieved some of Alex’s stress around those new experiences.

Others offered gifts of welcome to Alex: Elena S. and her family offered stuffed animals and a board game for the other kids; my Aunt Susan knit a blanket for him (which he sleeps under every night); Barbara and Jim A. gave him a beautiful wall hanging (“God danced the day you were born”); our neighbor, Kathy S., gave him a stuffed dog (and all the Godfather’s pizza he could eat!); and the Donahue family sent Alex a Rody horse that he still uses for play therapy.

Alex’s army

Alex is lucky to have had a small army of very talented professionals helping him on various fronts since he arrived four months ago.

The team at Community Kids preschool has been amazing. Director Sherri M., who had read our entire adoption blog, personally contacted us to invite Alex to apply to the preschool, where they mix special needs children with typically developing children. This was surely another one of those “graced” moments. The strong advice we’d received from the International Adoption Clinic had been to not enroll Alex in school. However, Community Kids has been a very good experience for Alex, providing him with new horizons, daily therapy, and lots of loaner equipment. He wouldn’t be nearly as mobile without all of the equipment and guidance provided by the school.

Sherrie navigated the bureaucracies that would enable Alex to attend even though he turned six in September (he has never been to school before). Monica M., Alex’s teacher, also reached out to us well in advance of his enrollment, spending several lunch hours on the playground with him over the course of several weeks before we were enrolled—just to get to know him. Alex’s “team” also includes language pathologist Ellen S., occupational therapist Cathy M., school psychologist Denise V., and physical disabilities coordinator Mindy R. Tanya G., his physical therapist at school, has been amazing at getting Alex up and running—literally—by providing tons of loaner equipment, as well as the professional help needed to get him fitted to it properly. All those pictures of him happily walking or rolling have a lot to do with her work. Amy and Nikki, Alex’s personal care attendants at school, have been at Alex’s side every single day, and have done a great job helping him make yet another transition.

Alex has had more medical help than he has ever had in his life. It’s a long list, but we’re particularly grateful to Beth A. and Dr. Maria K. at the University of Minnesota International Adoption Clinic for doing lengthy phone consultations immediately after our arrival when we were struggling with behavior issues with Alex. Dr. Judith E., a pediatrician at the clinic, provided our first comprehensive overview of Alex’s medical condition.

Additional medical help has been provided by Dr. Sarah L., Alex’s pediatrician at Winona Clinic; Dr. John G., the emergency room doctor who gave us life-saving advice during Alex’s first medical crisis (Dr. John also turns out to be our new across-the-alley neighbor). At Gillette Children’s Specialty Healthcare, Candace Vegter and Sue Murr spent a couple hours consulting with us by phone before we brought Alex to his first spasticity clinic; Drs. Tom N., Mary D., Mark G., and Christopher N., along with a very competent physical therapist whose name we no longer have, evaluated Alex’s cerebral palsy and formulated a treatment plan; Dr. Christopher N., who is himself physically impaired, followed up with Alex on the physical medicine front and laid treatment plans that will put him on the road to greater independent mobility. Sharon B. at Gundersen-Lutheran orthopedics fitted Alex with his first hinged ankle braces. Diane M. has served as Alex’s physical therapist at Winona Health since July; she knows how to make PT fun for him, and has marveled with us at his amazing progress.

People really seem to hate the government these days, and I get that, but we’ve seen first-hand how it can also be an instrument of the people to accomplish good things together that they couldn’t accomplish individually. We know from our contacts with people all over the country that the assistance provided to special needs kids in Minnesota is second to none, often by a long shot. Along those lines, we have to thank Annette V., our Winona County social worker, and Kathy Piscetello, our Winona County public health nurse, for everything they have done to coordinate services for Alex. They’re an example of efficient, hard-working, compassionate government employees.

Amanda at the Winona County social security office, along with another worker there whose name I can’t recall, also deserve a shout out for going above and beyond the call of duty to humanize a government bureaucracy.

Thanks to assistance from the state of Minnesota, we now have four wonderful personal care attendants who are Alex’s hands and feet (and friends) for almost forty hours a week. Without their help, Alex would get much less exercise and normal six-year-old activity every day. They take him for walks in his walker, help him learn how to use his wheelchair and stander, carry him to the top of slides, and otherwise supplement his mobility. They help him read and socialize, too. They don’t replace the love and care of his family, but with four other kids (including an active toddler) in the house, having a pair of hands devoted to Alex has been really good for his development. We are lucky that these PCAs were friends of the family first. They are Laurie W., Julie M., Diane L-M., and Dan W.

~

In case you’ve been keeping count at home, that’s 296 people and groups.

Deo gratias.