A Year and a Half Home

I was still answering questions as to how much we'd surely seen him change in a year with a noncommittal, "Well, it's harder for us to see since we're with him every day" into May.

And then one Friday morning, we made a quick decision to pick kids up from school and drive to Nebraska.  We drove from one afternoon to the next with a few short stops for meals and bathroom breaks.  The trip was almost a perfect 24 hours.

And Caleb didn't scream or cry at all.

My eyes are welling up just writing this.  That, friends, is when I could see how our son had grown in 1 year and 2 months.

We had actually been really concerned/dreading our first road trip with Caleb.  He was registered for a therapy family camp at the end of July so that was inevitably growing closer.

And this impromptu trip gave no time for us to worry about how Caleb would handle it.

But never, never, would I have believed he could do 24 hours in a car without any crying.  His previous limit had been about an hour.

Our son has grown in patience.

And then, at the end of June, I received my first hug from him.  Sitting with him on my lap, I felt, for the first time, his little arm around my side.  In fact, just today when he got home from school and I gave him a hug, his arm around the back of my neck pulled me close.

In July, he began to consistently say "eat".  A few other words have popped out from time to time, but language is clearly hard for him.  But this is a 9 year old speaking for the first time!

We can also tell that he is understanding more of what we say.

He is feeding himself much better with a spoon.  He is handing things back to me a percentage of the time instead of just dropping or throwing it.

He still loves new experiences.  He still loves being a part of things.

He is growing and maturing and we are very proud of him.

Rolling a truck for the first time, instead of just throwing it.

He doesn't love this chair, but it is an exciting sensory experience for him.

Happy to feed himself!

A Year Since We Met Him

As I realize it's been a year since we arrived in his country, I thought peeps might want to see a then/now shot of Caleb. The first was when we met him, the second is recent. His face is less slack now, as he actually gets the opportunity and has reason to use his facial muscles more often. He's also not nearly as cross-eyed--and that's with no doctor intervention. Before he had little for his eyes to focus on as he lay in his crib day after day. The progress he has made so far isn't necessarily vast, but he has come a long way from when we met him a year ago (and brought him home two months later).

Explaining

I think a lot of people think we chose our adoption because we wanted our adoption.

I did want an adoption, but I don't think I "chose".

We had a few friends and family reach out to us in case we wanted to discuss the challenges and trials of adoption and raising a child with special needs.  I was open to these conversations, but I did not seek them out because ultimately, I did not feel like there was an option to reconsider and not pursue Caleb.

Matt and I committed to Caleb before we met him and before we fully understood where he was developmentally.  I, being ever the optimist, do not believe that I actually considered that he might be as delayed as he is.  I told myself that I considered it, but in hindsight, it's hard to fathom what you have not experienced.

My toughest days were my days alone with Caleb in his country, after we left the orphanage and before we were able to fly back to the U.S.  I may have cried a lot.  I may have felt really overwhelmed with a decision that I didn't necessary "want".

But sometimes we are able to make choices that supersede our wants.

Adoption was something I had wanted to pursue out of obedience to Christ, knowing that our hearts had more room and there are children without families.

I am humbled in this obedience.

It's one thing to sing songs to the Lord in church about laying your life down for Him and to absolutely mean it with every fiber of your being.  But it can be another thing to live it.

It's beautiful.  And it's gut-wrenching.  It's humbling.  And I walk the day to day by faith.

Not as well as I should.  Not nearly as well as I should.  But it is the only way to cope with a responsibility that is so unknown for the future.  We make it through each day and each day goes fine and I have to let my mind stay with that one day, because the possible challenges ahead--that may not even come!--are simply too overwhelming.  "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."  -Matthew 6:34

I would like to clarify, that I never once felt like I was forcing myself to do something that I shouldn't.  I can imagine many different scenarios where I would perhaps feel uneasy or not at peace and if that had happened at all during our adoption, I surely would have talked with Matt about not moving forward.

But I never felt uneasy.  I never felt anything but peace in my heart.  (I know that sounds cheesy and maybe it's different for you, but that's part of my walk with Christ--I try to live by faith.  I believe in Scripture before feelings so it feels silly for me to write about this, but I believe that I'm referring to the "peace of God, which transcends all understanding".)  

I may have felt like, "No!  I don't want this responsibility!" in my head, but my heart felt steady and I couldn't comprehend choosing to leave Caleb there.  Like I said, very humbling.  If I could describe our adoption in one word, it would be "humbling".  It is still humbling.

Some cliff notes:
     -If Caleb's birthday had been listed correctly, he would have been too old for me to consider and we would not have adopted him.
     -One family member (out of love for us) was praying that we would not adopt him.  Immediately this family member happened to hear a radio station not typically listened to and heard a mother talking about her child with cerebral palsy and what God had done in their lives.
     -His country became violent days before we were supposed to leave.  I, a total scaredy cat, did not even consider not going.  I felt brave and I felt peace.  I felt the same responsibility to Caleb as to if any of my children were in a dangerous place.

And then as we met him and the process became real and where he was developmentally became apparent and we brought him home, I had trouble identifying with the adoption community.  I felt more like an expecting mother that discovers her child is not going to be born a typical child.  And yet very different from that, because a.) that is not something I presume to understand feeling, and b.) here we were, beginning with a 7 year old.

Until I saw Caleb's waiting child profile, I was absolutely sure that we would adopt a neurotypical child.

So here we are, in a completely different place, with responsibilities I absolutely never wanted, loving on a little boy who has had so very little in life and trying our best to meet his needs.  My life is not all about me, no matter how much I'd like it to be.  God guided us to a place where we were open to adoption and then God placed one small boy in front of us.  And praise Him and to His glory, we obeyed.  For Caleb's sake and for glory to our God.  And for absolutely nothing to do with Matt and I and our wants.

Thank you, everyone, who stuck it out in reading this.  I've started and stopped and kicked around various versions of this in my mind for the last few months.  I hope it sheds some clarity on where we are.  We do not have a special needs child because we wanted a special needs child and chose a special needs child.  We have Caleb because we prayed for God to guide us and He showed us Caleb and we said, "Yes."