6 weeks

Ivan is changing dramatically on a daily basis.
The child we are interacting with NOW is a very different child than the one we visited 6 months ago and even different from the one we brought home 2 months ago.

We brought home a child who was (rightfully and understandably) terrified, lacking gross motor skill, had no confidence, no drive, no sense of exploration, no real connection with  or interest in the world around him, did not make eye contact, spent the majority of his time in self stimulation activities and made absolutely zero effort to have meaningful communication outside of physical cues (i.e. grabbing my hands and pulling them towards his chest in a gesture that is him telling me 'I want you to move me').

Today, I watched as Ivan mimicked me (something the orphanage staff told us that he had never done and could not do).

At one point, I scooped Ivan up and had him on my hip. I reached above our heads and tapped on the floating car that is part of the play area and said "Look, Ivan." He instantly looked up towards the tapping sound and immediately reached up, tapping on the car himself, then he laughed.

Through out the day he has willingly and happily offered and sought out eye contact. And not only with me but with my Niece, as well. I watched as he ran excitedly with the other kids toward the Bubble Machine toy that produced a surreal experience in our yard where Ivan was holding his hands out and touching bubbles as an immense cloud of them floated around him.  I had to continually move the toy because he wanted to get his face right up inside it to see HOW it was making the bubbles.  He wanted to feel the fan blowing. He wanted to taste the bubbles.

HE HELD A PIECE OF TOAST IN HIS HANDS AND PUT IT BETWEEN HIS TEETH BY HIMSELF AND TOOK A BITE AND PUT THE REST OF THE TOAST BACK ON THE TABLE WHILE HE CHEWED THE BITE.

no Y'all don't get it.
He took a bite. Of toast. That was too big to all fit into his mouth at once. He held the toast himself and made the measured choice to take a bite off. Then he sat the remainder of the toast on the table.

!!!!!!
It doesn't sound big but i promise you that it is monumental. Like, Mount Rushmore, monumental.

He has learned to turn his sippy cup BY HIMSELF to orient the spout to where it lines up with his mouth.

Another action that doesn't sound like much but IT IS HUGE.

He climbs into his own chair at the table for meals.

He is climbing the ladder up the play set and going down the slide on his own, without any kind of prompting or assistance, regularly now.

He is sitting in a "big kid" swing, holding the chains and keeping his balance.

He is understanding near everything I say.


And here's the big one. The BIG one.

When I was changing his diaper today, I played a game with him where I lifted his shirt and blew a raspberry on his belly and it made him laugh. After about 3 times of lifting his shirt, raspberry, and pulling his shirt down I thought we were done and could go back outside but he pulled his shirt up and HE MADE A RASPBERRY SOUND

WITH HIS OWN MOUTH

AT ME

IN CONTEXT OF THE GAME.

*breathe*
The last few days, he has been *almost* blowing kisses when told to. He will *almost* do it on his own.  He gets so close, he recognizes that I am blowing a kiss, he makes the choice to blow one back and then will stop short and wait for me to help him with the motion. BUT HE'S SO CLOSE.

we are /--this--/ close to meaningful interactive communication.

six weeks home.

5 weeks

Ivan has been home five weeks.
We're still in the crazy "This is not real life" stage. However, I think we're past the dramatically emotional 'honeymoon period'.

I was lied to about the honeymoon period, y'all. I was told the honeymoon period would be an unknown amount of time where both the parent and the child would be on their best behaviour while learning about each other and feeling each other out.
THAT honeymoon period lasted approximately 8 hours from pick up from the orphanage for us.
The honeymoon we experienced involved highly emotional rage fits that lasted upwards of half an hour and were happening two or three times a day. Why? No idea. Frustration? Anger? Missing the orphanage? Missing his Baba? Angry with me because I'm the crazy white lady that he can't understand? Tired of the weird food? Generally feeling unsafe because of the drastic changes in his life over the last few weeks?
Maybe. Maybe all of those. Maybe one of them. Maybe something else I haven't thought of. Either way, the child had emotional rage fits, two to three times a day, lasting about a half hour each for at least the first 3 weeks we were home.
The honeymoon that we experienced involved a child who would completely shut down when any kind of expectation was placed upon him. The Honeymoon that we experienced involved a child, entire body writhing in my lap as he physically fought and strained, displaying his emotions the only way he knows how, while clinging to me, his little arms wrapped around my shoulders tight, and screaming until I would hold him tight enough that he finally felt safe.
We were discovering a child who is functioning on the level of a one to two year old toddler.  It was expected but still an adjustment. In many ways, we've embraced his "baby" ways to help with bonding and attachment. He likes the things babies like so it's enjoyable for him if we hold him "like a baby" and play with him "like a baby" and it helps us all bond, like parents do with babies.

In the beginning, Magda and Mordecai ignored him, which was more than I could have asked for. While Ivan was SO VERY emotionally unstable and terrified, it was handy that he had no interest in them and they had no interest in him. It left us together, so I could be his comfort and constant.

Now, we are beginning to settle in, I think, and I think we are beginning to see more of what Ivan is truly capable of.  He is becoming confident, inquisitive, interactive, mischievous, and we still him more relaxed. As he has become less volatile and more predictable,  Magda and Mordecai have started making efforts to reach out to him and include him.  Magda loves to sing to him and tell him stories. She will include him in imaginative play (even if he seems like he isn't paying attention at all) by giving him a part to play (even though he does not participate at all) and she will continually reaffirm to him during the game that he is included by speaking to him or touching him. She never tries to force him to play in any way other than "his own way" but she still includes him.
Mordecai, being more physical, has been able to bond with Ivan more quickly through physical play. They jump on the trampoline together. They run through the house. Mordecai spent an entire day following Ivan around and mimicking his every movement and vocal tic. He still "talks" with Ivan by echoing Ivan's vocalizations.
Ivan does not seek them out, though. He allows them to play with him when they initiate the play. He interacts sparingly and definitely 'in his own way'.
He seeks out adults but often his interactions are empty . He is looking for a source of external stimulation and really has no preference how this is fulfilled or by whom.  We have had a strict rule that no one is to pick up or hold or allow Ivan to 'waller' on them. They are to direct him to Charlie or Me and let US fulfill that need for him. Recently, he has shown that he understands which adults will turn him down and mostly he will bypass them and come to me or Charlie, instead. However, he will still approach random strangers and try his charm on them. Every adult is an opportunity. Every adult is safe. Every adult exists to serve him. That's how Ivan thinks.  If an adult is holding food, it is for him. If an adult is holding a drink, it is for him. If an adult is standing, it is to pick him up. If an adult is sitting, it is for him to sit in their lap. This thought process applies to ANY and EVERY adult. Are you a complete stranger who happens to be opening a breakfast bar near us? "Oh, That's for me!" Ivan thinks and takes off in your direction because food being opened means he is going to be fed.
 We have to teach him that this is not true. It is a hard truth for him to learn and one that we will be working on for a while.
 We do not anticipate that his life will always be "Don't pick him up. Don't offer him snacks. Don't hug him" because this is a lesson that he will learn in phases. First, we need him to learn that Charlie and I are his primary caregivers and that we are capable and willing to provide everything that he needs. Once he knows this, we can begin working on what is acceptable behavior, acceptable expectations and safe boundaries to have with other adults outside of our home.

There's so much more but i'm actually exhausted. This has been a very busy time for us. It is so amazing and awesome to have Ivan home, finally, but it is also tiring and overwhelming sometimes to have Ivan home, as well. We love him. And I think that he appreciates us, having a family, a home, in his own way.

That's one thing I can promise the entire world about Ivan. He will do things, all things, his own way.

Pick Up (Sometimes known as 'Gotcha')

We've been home with Ivan for one week now.
The trip to get him is hard for me to remember now. I think back and I can hardly recall the travel over to Bulgaria. Of course, some of that has to do with the fact that I overdosed myself on Dramamine and ended up sleeping for the ENTIRE 30 some odd hours that we traveled. Maybe? But I remember landing in Sofia and then riding in this quaint little van for 4 hours to Burgas to his orphanage. Charlie and I both slept for that ride over. We stayed the night, where I don't remember if we slept at all that night. I remember being up very early wondering about breakfast because we didn't eat hardly anything during the travel over. (We discovered during the first trip that airline food doesn't suit either of us very well and the after effects are not worth the risk of eating it.)
That morning we went to the orphanage and sat awkwardly with our translator/attendant waiting while the staff prepared Ivan for us. We met with the orphanage director for about 15 or 20 mins. She was open, kind and seemed happy that Ivan would be leaving with us. She mentioned to us "It will be difficult with him because he is in his own world. It will be hard for you." to which Charlie and I just smiled and nodded. Yes, love. We know. She asked if we had any questioned for her, after she'd given us all his paperwork, and I asked if Ivan had been prepared that we were coming. I asked if anyone had talked with him about the fact that he was going to be leaving with us today. She let us know that the staff HAD been talking with him about Mommy and Daddy and about "going to America" with Mommy and Daddy. I was just relieved that he wasn't about to be absolutely sideswiped by us.
We took clothes for him, but the staff returned them because EVERYTHING was at least 2 sizes too big. I knew our boy was small but once we'd gotten home I had convinced myself that he couldn't have been that little and he must have just seemed smaller. No, no. He's really that small. Everything we took was 3T. He's in 24month/2T clothes.
Finally, They brought him in and he came bounding in, in his way, laughing and smiles and he seemed overjoyed to see us! What a relief! We had fears that he would have forgotten us and would be afraid but he seemed absolutely ecstatic to see us. We bundled him up as best as we could, the director said a little good bye to him where she reminded him he was leaving with Mommy and Daddy to go to America, she wished us luck and we were out the door.
There was a moment of terror when we walked out the front door of the orphanage where Ivan seemed very unsure about what was going on. He became stiff and visibly scared so I scooped him up and carried him to the car. Ever felt like you were stealing a child? I totally felt like we were stealing him. He wasn't a fan of being buckled in to his car seat but once in it, he rode like a champ. I got a thousand photos of his little face and his little self in that little car seat during that long long ride but my favorites are the ones where he had reached out and held my hand, all on his own, and we rode like that for miles.
We had to stop for gas and I took the opportunity to change his diaper, which turned into a full clothing change because he had managed to soak through his diaper. (oops, mom fail already and we'd only had the kid about 2 hours by this point, lol) As I was walking him to the bathroom, I realized that it would be the first time I'd seen him naked.
Talk about weird firsts.
So the first time I saw my child, fully, was in a dirty little gas station bathroom. And he wasn't happy about it at all, because I had to clean him and change him and change his clothes and that wasn't on his agenda for the day at all. Poor thing. He was so excited, overall, though that he seemed to forgive me. We got back in the car with some yogurt cereal stuff and some bread to feed him for lunch as we traveled. He ate everything I put near his face.
He rode so well. He didn't sleep at all. There was too much going on. Too much excitement. He was full throttle Ivan the entire day. When we finally made it to the apartment, he was going great until we left to go get groceries. We walked past a restaurant on the way to the grocery store and he. just. LOST. IT.
It was a full fledged, all out, end of the world tantrum/rage. In public, no less. The child screamed and thrashed and screamed and thrashed. In Public.
Charlie and I had nothing to prove this child was legally ours, either. We had given our attendant EVERY PIECE OF PAPERWORK on the entire adoption. We realized on aisle 4 that this was a very poor choice. We ended up getting just enough to feed us for dinner and got the hell out of Dodge.
Once we got back to the apartment and fed the poor child, he was fine. Charlie and I learned a very important lesson on that first day. Food is Ivan's pressure point. Food is what will send this child into traumatizing rage fits. Food is also the way to avoid them. So plan ahead and avoid we did.
That night, the first night, it took forever for Ivan to finally crash. And that's what it was, too. He finally just fell over from exhaustion.
As did we.
(More, hopefully, soon...ish. I'm suddenly very busy lately. hehe)
Here's some pictures from that first day. =) Sadly, we didn't get any photos of the public rage but i'm sure our faces of pure horror would be hilarious had we thought to preserve the moment in pictures.

A Letter of Thanks

"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.

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.

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.

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.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

(HOPEFULLY SOON)

(NO REALLY SOON)