"So... I stupidly watched 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' the other night and I cried like a baby."
We received a card in the mail today from a friend I attended high school with. Totally unexpected. I opened the card to find a letter inside and the above quote is the opening line.
It might or might not be common knowledge that I, also, accidentally watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower about a month ago thinking it would be a fun, happy-go-lucky kids in high school story. I started crying five minutes into the movie and sobbed through the entire thing. Not even going to try and save face here. It was an ugly, ugly experience that can only be compared to that one time I accidentally watched Third Star and realized 45 seconds into the movie that it was a huge mistake but I couldn't turn back then and I ended up sobbing for an hour after the movie went off and I walked around in a daze for nearly a week, absolutely traumatized.
The point here is movies, books, characters, stories all make me feel things. Strongly.
My friend has been following our adoption process since the start and has stopped in on each of our fundraising efforts to lend a hand or keep me company or donate or just be generally funny. I also hadn't been able to talk with her or spend any time with her really since our last fundraiser, which was almost 8 months ago.
Earlier this week, as we were planning and preparing for our pick up trip, we had an unexpected expense for the adoption pop up. We didn't want to ask for help but with buying travel tickets, budgeting the trip, and Charlie missing two weeks of work while we travel, we had no idea how we would pay this expense and still be able to buy groceries once we got home.
Then my friend watches this movie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and it makes her think of me. The Rocky Horror Picture Show scene, specifically, makes her think of me. And God lays it on her heart to send me a card. To write an encouraging letter that I nearly cried while reading. And to make a donation.
Randomly.
We're still not fully covered on that expense but I'm not worried about it at all anymore.
God's got this.
We're not doing this alone.
God's got us. He's got Ivan. He's got our entire support system of friends and family and He's working everything perfectly.
The support we have received during this process is absolutely immeasurable. There is no way to repay every kindness, word of encouragement, donation, smile, or gesture made that has helped us along in this.
I've called a friend while in a complete panic and had this friend let me rave until it was out of my system then she gently talked me down back into a calmer, saner place. I've had friends stop by to show their support and it be the best part of my day, standing around the kitchen table discussing the adoption and everything but the adoption, as well. I've had people I don't even personally know message us to offer to help with fundraisers. I've had a random woman in the store make me smile and feel better just by standing and discussing our different paths to family building and even though we had nothing else in common, we shared a common goal of wanting to parent a child and being able to do that through adoption. We've had family step in and support us. We've had our church family holding us up in prayer and faithfully reminding us that we do have their support in every way as we bumble through this.
They say it takes a village.
They are not wrong.
Thank you.
Thank you each and every one.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Monday, January 27, 2014
Quickly, now.
I meant to write this nice long post full of pictures about how we spent the day before we left Bulgaria in the country's capitol, Sofia, and how we had excellent hosts who took us to church and lead us on a tour of the entire city, I think. It felt like that anyway.
I meant to write a post about our last visit with Ivan and how it absolutely destroyed us to leave him knowing it would be 4 to 6 months before we would see him again (if at all. no one can know how court will go.)
I meant to write about how our trip happened in November and we finally had court scheduled for December 6th. I meant to write about how our court was delayed due to paperwork issues on their end and how we sat for another ten days in limbo praying. I meant to write about what a relief it was to wake up December 17th and hear that we had passed court and that we had another son. How awesome it was to know Ivan finally had a family to grow up in.
I meant to write about all that. I really did.
But right now we are staring at leaving for our pick up trip in 5 days.
We will have Ivan in our hands in 7 days.
and I'm a little bit panicked.
Excited.
Thrilled.
Scared.
Anxious.
Mostly, though, we're just packing and praying.
Packing and praying and trying not to think about it.
Oh.
Oh, this is feeling very REAL all of the sudden.
I meant to write a post about our last visit with Ivan and how it absolutely destroyed us to leave him knowing it would be 4 to 6 months before we would see him again (if at all. no one can know how court will go.)
I meant to write about how our trip happened in November and we finally had court scheduled for December 6th. I meant to write about how our court was delayed due to paperwork issues on their end and how we sat for another ten days in limbo praying. I meant to write about what a relief it was to wake up December 17th and hear that we had passed court and that we had another son. How awesome it was to know Ivan finally had a family to grow up in.
I meant to write about all that. I really did.
But right now we are staring at leaving for our pick up trip in 5 days.
We will have Ivan in our hands in 7 days.
and I'm a little bit panicked.
Excited.
Thrilled.
Scared.
Anxious.
Mostly, though, we're just packing and praying.
Packing and praying and trying not to think about it.
Oh.
Oh, this is feeling very REAL all of the sudden.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Chilling with the Translator
Our attendant was an adorable young lady and we were her first family to assist. She was pretty fluent in English, textbook style, or at least British style. I found myself trying to explain words or phrases only a few times. Mostly, we conversed freely. And she was very sweet.
Because Ivan displays some very classic signs of Autism, Charlie and I spent good chunks of our visits discussing his behavior. We would openly talk about his lack of eye contact. We would comment on his stymieing. We would wonder aloud about what a particular behavior or action would be providing him with.
"I wish I knew what that swaying dance does for him."
"I wonder if this is a self soothing behavior or a stimulative one?"
"What do you think he gets out of that?"
"Has he made unprompted eye contact with you, yet?" (The answer was no. Always, no. He did not make unprompted eye contact.)
Our attendant actually became worried that we weren't interested in continuing the adoption. I laugh really hard here every time I think of this because WE WERE SO INTERESTED IN THAT KID IT WASN'T EVEN FUNNY. She just didn't understand where we were coming from in our banter about him. We were filing away his every little tick to research later. We were documenting his every shift and sway and hop while thinking of a dozen different ways we could incorporate stimulating activities into his day at home.
"I wish I knew what that swaying dance does for him." Was our minds racing with thoughts like "I bet he'd love the swings in the back yard." and "Maybe he'd enjoy gymnastics?" and "I hope you can learn to appreciate dubstep because Mommy's gonna be dancing with you at home, kiddo."
She couldn't get over how excited we were over every little thing he did. He would do something new and Charlie and I would exchange a look of "DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!" and her face would fall a little and show concern that we were losing interest when the reality was that we were thrilled.
Over lunch one day, I remember discussing with Charlie that I'd love to witness Ivan have a meltdown in the safety and security of the orphanage. I'd wanted to see what his anger or upset looked like and to see how the staff worked with him. Our attendant looked horrified, "Why would you want to see that?"
"I'd like to see it so I can have an idea how to help him."
"But you would not... provoke him?" She asked, still shocked.
"NO. No, no. I don't want to provoke a tantrum. It would just be nice if he happens to have one where we can witness it."
I'm still not sure if she understood. We did, in fact, get a glimpse of a tantrum while we were there. Ivan didn't understand what was going on the night the staff let us feed him dinner. We'd asked if we could stay for his dinner time and watch (from the visitation room) how they managed meals. We had hoped to see how he eats and how the staff handles him during a meal. Instead, they offered to let us feed him. He'd already left the visitation room and was seated at the table, though. He knew it was dinner time. Then a staff person collected him and lead him back to the visitation room. He began crying and fighting against her because, the poor kid, he wanted dinner. He did not want to visit. The lady explained to him that he was having dinner in the visitation room and he was fine but Charlie and I both had a "Well, that was a tame tantrum but it was nice to see it." chat afterward. Our attendant asked about it and I remember telling her that it's very good to know that he can be talked out of a fit like that.
Our translator made the trip much easier. Because we were in a touristy area where the majority of people have some functional English, we could have probably managed on our own. We were able to get groceries and dine out and be tourists fairly well on our own. However, our attendant was fun and peppy and willing to do just about anything we suggested. She managed the taxi rides to and from the orphanage each day. She would order for us in a restaurant that didn't have picture menus. (There is one dish that is popular there called the "Shopska" salad. I know I like this dish and it's easy to find on a Bulgarian menu because it looks like "WONKA" in English. The missionary family had a hearty laugh when I asked for the 'Wonka' salad when we ate with them. ha!)
Our translator handled all our interaction with any orphanage staff. She made it possible for us to gather information from Ivan's Baba. She also made sure we were fully informed about any paperwork that we signed while we were there.
Also, she was just a pleasant person and by the end of the week, I think she may have understood that we were actually very excited about Ivan even if she didn't understand why.
Because Ivan displays some very classic signs of Autism, Charlie and I spent good chunks of our visits discussing his behavior. We would openly talk about his lack of eye contact. We would comment on his stymieing. We would wonder aloud about what a particular behavior or action would be providing him with.
"I wish I knew what that swaying dance does for him."
"I wonder if this is a self soothing behavior or a stimulative one?"
"What do you think he gets out of that?"
"Has he made unprompted eye contact with you, yet?" (The answer was no. Always, no. He did not make unprompted eye contact.)
Our attendant actually became worried that we weren't interested in continuing the adoption. I laugh really hard here every time I think of this because WE WERE SO INTERESTED IN THAT KID IT WASN'T EVEN FUNNY. She just didn't understand where we were coming from in our banter about him. We were filing away his every little tick to research later. We were documenting his every shift and sway and hop while thinking of a dozen different ways we could incorporate stimulating activities into his day at home.
"I wish I knew what that swaying dance does for him." Was our minds racing with thoughts like "I bet he'd love the swings in the back yard." and "Maybe he'd enjoy gymnastics?" and "I hope you can learn to appreciate dubstep because Mommy's gonna be dancing with you at home, kiddo."
She couldn't get over how excited we were over every little thing he did. He would do something new and Charlie and I would exchange a look of "DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!" and her face would fall a little and show concern that we were losing interest when the reality was that we were thrilled.
Over lunch one day, I remember discussing with Charlie that I'd love to witness Ivan have a meltdown in the safety and security of the orphanage. I'd wanted to see what his anger or upset looked like and to see how the staff worked with him. Our attendant looked horrified, "Why would you want to see that?"
"I'd like to see it so I can have an idea how to help him."
"But you would not... provoke him?" She asked, still shocked.
"NO. No, no. I don't want to provoke a tantrum. It would just be nice if he happens to have one where we can witness it."
I'm still not sure if she understood. We did, in fact, get a glimpse of a tantrum while we were there. Ivan didn't understand what was going on the night the staff let us feed him dinner. We'd asked if we could stay for his dinner time and watch (from the visitation room) how they managed meals. We had hoped to see how he eats and how the staff handles him during a meal. Instead, they offered to let us feed him. He'd already left the visitation room and was seated at the table, though. He knew it was dinner time. Then a staff person collected him and lead him back to the visitation room. He began crying and fighting against her because, the poor kid, he wanted dinner. He did not want to visit. The lady explained to him that he was having dinner in the visitation room and he was fine but Charlie and I both had a "Well, that was a tame tantrum but it was nice to see it." chat afterward. Our attendant asked about it and I remember telling her that it's very good to know that he can be talked out of a fit like that.
Our translator made the trip much easier. Because we were in a touristy area where the majority of people have some functional English, we could have probably managed on our own. We were able to get groceries and dine out and be tourists fairly well on our own. However, our attendant was fun and peppy and willing to do just about anything we suggested. She managed the taxi rides to and from the orphanage each day. She would order for us in a restaurant that didn't have picture menus. (There is one dish that is popular there called the "Shopska" salad. I know I like this dish and it's easy to find on a Bulgarian menu because it looks like "WONKA" in English. The missionary family had a hearty laugh when I asked for the 'Wonka' salad when we ate with them. ha!)
Our translator handled all our interaction with any orphanage staff. She made it possible for us to gather information from Ivan's Baba. She also made sure we were fully informed about any paperwork that we signed while we were there.
Also, she was just a pleasant person and by the end of the week, I think she may have understood that we were actually very excited about Ivan even if she didn't understand why.
Friday, January 3, 2014
The visits
It's no surprise that the children at the orphanage have a highly structured day. Our visits were worked to fall within the confines of that structure, and even so, we still interfered with Ivan's routine but he didn't seem to mind. Every morning, we came in at 8 to visit in the tiny toy stuffed room until noon. We were visiting between Ivan's breakfast and lunch. He was easy to entertain and we spent some time allowing him to just be so we could watch him and see how he self soothes and stymies. His Baba came in for a little while during a few of our visits. We were able to glean a wealth of information from her through our translator and also by watching her interact with Ivan. It is a joy within my very soul to know that she has been loving him for the last two years. She loves ON him. She holds him and pets him and rocks him. She sings to him. She speaks to him, constantly. She teaches him and plays with him. She is a blessing to Ivan and to our family.
At noon, a staff person would collect Ivan from the visitation room and he would happily trot along side her back to his "home" room to have lunch and nap. He had no issues what so ever transitioning from one room to another, or from visiting with us to returning to his home room, or from leaving his home room to visit with us. He transitioned very well from each activity.
In the afternoons, we visited in a play therapy room that gave us a clear view of Ivan's home room. It is set up like a little apartment where he and 15 or so other children all reside with a rotation of staff present. The children play, eat, watch tv, everything within this little apartment like set up. It is a home like environment and they are making a true honest effort to provide the children with as close to a "normal" home life as is possible in a facility.
It was sad for us, because all the children in the group could see us during our afternoon visits with Ivan. Even though we were tucked into another tiny room crammed full of toys, the entire room was walled in windows. It was nice to see the other children going through their routines but it was heartbreaking to see their little eyes watching us so sadly as we played with Ivan.
He enjoyed us for the most part, but the evening visits were harder on him. He got tired of us rather quickly in the afternoons and was beyond ready to return to the group by the end of the visits.
Apparently the weather was kind of chilly while we were there? It was October and the temps were about the same as what we were having at home so I was thrown by the way the locals were bundled up in snow gear when the weather was just ... overcast and in the low 60's. Charlie and I joked, "Maybe it is because we are fat Americans and don't feel the cold as much." But there were two or three nice days where the staff let us take Ivan outside to the orphanage playground. One day, we had to bundle him up in this coat that was two sizes too big and vibrantly purple and it suited his skin tone perfectly. He really does look lovely in purple, I'm not even joking. On another day we went out, he had a blue one. I think it was just whatever coat was handy when they were preparing him for us.
We were able to observe him in the play structures. Our Ivan is a bit... I get the feeling he is typically lead to a toy and told to play and then he just kind of ... It's hard to explain. Because Ivan is not a typical child, even by orphanage standards, it's difficult to gauge him. He had zero interest in playing outside until Charlie started putting him up on the slide and letting him slide down. He lit up like Christmas and the Fourth of July together.
(I'll need to post the video separately. I can't get it to load within this post.)
You can kind of tell from the video that Ivan is only vaguely interested in us, even. He is spontaneous and unpredictable. It's going to be so much fun getting to know him once he is home. I hope to look back on these videos and have a new understanding of how he was feeling when these were shot after I know him better.
We were able to take him out of the orphanage one day to get his passport photo taken. We also learned that he's been outside of the orphanage grounds before to attend swimming therapy and horseback riding therapy! What a blessing!! His Baba came with us to assist and I'm so thankful we were able to witness her interacting with Ivan during this special time. I learned so much just being able to watch her work with him. For the photo, Charlie stood behind Ivan, helping to balance him on the stool and his Baba stepped into the room to help get his attention and direct him to look at the camera. The photographer ended up capturing an absolutely stunning shot of our child. We now have a beautiful professional photo of our son for his freakin' passport. Thankfully, they let us have a digital copy.
They let us feed him dinner one night as well! His meal was a soup that my mother would have called "Goulash", a piece of plain white bread, and a cup of the watery yogurt that is popular to the area. He eats very slowly. We do know that he has the know how and ability to feed himself finger foods, though, since he would take pieces of bread that Charlie broke off and put them into his mouth. (!!!) This kid just spent the entire time we had with him blowing away all our expectations by being so very capable! I managed the spoon feeding him his soup and he was able to eat nearly the entire bowlful. I think he would have eaten it all but we ran out of time. All his room mates had finished their meals, had TV time, and were prepared for bed when a staff person came and let us know he needed to be finished now so he could be prepped for bedtime. I wonder how much weight he'll gain when he's able to eat until he is full and not just until he runs out of time.
At noon, a staff person would collect Ivan from the visitation room and he would happily trot along side her back to his "home" room to have lunch and nap. He had no issues what so ever transitioning from one room to another, or from visiting with us to returning to his home room, or from leaving his home room to visit with us. He transitioned very well from each activity.
In the afternoons, we visited in a play therapy room that gave us a clear view of Ivan's home room. It is set up like a little apartment where he and 15 or so other children all reside with a rotation of staff present. The children play, eat, watch tv, everything within this little apartment like set up. It is a home like environment and they are making a true honest effort to provide the children with as close to a "normal" home life as is possible in a facility.
It was sad for us, because all the children in the group could see us during our afternoon visits with Ivan. Even though we were tucked into another tiny room crammed full of toys, the entire room was walled in windows. It was nice to see the other children going through their routines but it was heartbreaking to see their little eyes watching us so sadly as we played with Ivan.
He enjoyed us for the most part, but the evening visits were harder on him. He got tired of us rather quickly in the afternoons and was beyond ready to return to the group by the end of the visits.
Apparently the weather was kind of chilly while we were there? It was October and the temps were about the same as what we were having at home so I was thrown by the way the locals were bundled up in snow gear when the weather was just ... overcast and in the low 60's. Charlie and I joked, "Maybe it is because we are fat Americans and don't feel the cold as much." But there were two or three nice days where the staff let us take Ivan outside to the orphanage playground. One day, we had to bundle him up in this coat that was two sizes too big and vibrantly purple and it suited his skin tone perfectly. He really does look lovely in purple, I'm not even joking. On another day we went out, he had a blue one. I think it was just whatever coat was handy when they were preparing him for us.
We were able to observe him in the play structures. Our Ivan is a bit... I get the feeling he is typically lead to a toy and told to play and then he just kind of ... It's hard to explain. Because Ivan is not a typical child, even by orphanage standards, it's difficult to gauge him. He had zero interest in playing outside until Charlie started putting him up on the slide and letting him slide down. He lit up like Christmas and the Fourth of July together.
(I'll need to post the video separately. I can't get it to load within this post.)
You can kind of tell from the video that Ivan is only vaguely interested in us, even. He is spontaneous and unpredictable. It's going to be so much fun getting to know him once he is home. I hope to look back on these videos and have a new understanding of how he was feeling when these were shot after I know him better.
We were able to take him out of the orphanage one day to get his passport photo taken. We also learned that he's been outside of the orphanage grounds before to attend swimming therapy and horseback riding therapy! What a blessing!! His Baba came with us to assist and I'm so thankful we were able to witness her interacting with Ivan during this special time. I learned so much just being able to watch her work with him. For the photo, Charlie stood behind Ivan, helping to balance him on the stool and his Baba stepped into the room to help get his attention and direct him to look at the camera. The photographer ended up capturing an absolutely stunning shot of our child. We now have a beautiful professional photo of our son for his freakin' passport. Thankfully, they let us have a digital copy.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
(HOPEFULLY SOON)
(NO REALLY SOON)
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
New Year, New Update
WOW. I'm so sorry! So much has happened and our lives got crazy and I just have neglected to update.
In October, we made the big trip over and were able to visit with The Child. The trip was, as EVERYONE assured me, no where near as scary as I was prepared for. The flights were long and uncomfortable. The layovers were weird and uncomfortable. The bathrooms in the airport in Paris are strange. Oh, yeah, and people speak French there, en masse. That made me laugh.
We arrived in Sofia, Bulgaria and met up with a missionary family who offered to let us stay with them for the time between our flights. We became acquainted with traditional Bulgarian bathrooms because I desperately needed a shower. Then we were amazingly rude and crashed on their son's bed and slept, hard, for a few hours. And they fed us pizza and helped us exchange our dollars into lev. It was so nice to be greeted by a familiar accent and their family is so sweet.
We hopped over to Burgas, where The Child is, and spent the weekend trying to acclimate to living in the future.
We slept.
We ate delicious fresh bread.
We went to put our toes into the Black Sea.
(I don't know who that guy is. Oops. Sorry, random Bulgarian man.)
Did I mention the wait was rather nervous?
We were nervous.
But when he strolled through the door, we were in love.
He came straight to me and fell into my arms, wrapped his arms around me and held on tight. He spent some of that first visit clinging to me or Charlie. He's a physical one.
(Now, this is skipping ahead in the story some, but I'm sharing his country, city and now his name and photo ONLY because he IS legally our son while I am writing this post.)
Allow me to introduce our son, Ivan Mycroft, in this shot Charlie caught of our first hug.
He was scared when we held him. He wanted to be held but he didn't trust us yet. He was happy. He was smiling and playful and allowed us to engage him. He allowed us to touch and hug him. He allowed us to play with him.
We were allowed to visit for a few hours in the morning then for about an hour and a half in the afternoon.
Each day allowed us to see Ivan experiencing different moods, displaying different behaviors, and let us gather just as much hands on information about him as possible.
He has receptive language (!!!!) and he follows directions easily and readily. He uses all his senses to learn about the world around him (which means things go into his mouth a lot, heh). He loves being held and touched and petted (on his own terms).
He seriously has the prettiest eyes, too.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
(HOPEFULLY SOON)
(NO, I PROMISE, SOON.)
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