Adventures of Unemplyment, part 2

First, I want to thank those of you who have reached out with support and encouragement regarding this new endeavor.  You shall be handsomely rewarded with more frequent exposure to the ridiculousness of my life.  So, congrats all around really.  

I guess I should start with a little family update.  We are about two months into The Adventures of Unemployment.  Tom has been faithful in applying to all sorts of jobs in several different fields.  His experience is largely in education, but his former position was administrative and he did a lot of training, some media, and plenty of "go between" helping regular people use and understand the IT side of a virtual charter school.  These are all skill that would fit nicely into a more corporate setting, which he is very open to.  Tom is gifted in the areas of organization and he often dreams of sitting alone in a room stuffed with floor-to-ceiling stacks of disheveled paper records.  He longs to take a room full of chaos and systematically create useful, digital archives.  So, pretty much my personal hell.  That's what he dreams of. 

I say all this in case his skill set would be a good fit where you are currently working, or in case you are a wealthy benefactor with a large, and very disorganized, forbidden library that could use Tom's touch. If so, that would be very Beauty and the Beast of you.  Which is weird but whatever... he can start Monday. 

This time has been challenging, but also positive in that it has been a very stretching time - which is always painful and usually productive.  God has used this time to deal with me on some pretty big things, particularly in the areas of trust, need vs. desire, and patience. 

Okay, okay... maybe rage and pride have come up too, on just the rarest occasion. But I'm doing my best.  The hardest part, honestly, has been watching Tom struggle against the lie that he is somehow "less" because he lost his job. It's hard for me to understand because I have seen so much "more" come out in him through this.  More character, more faith, more desire to complete the LEAST pressing home improvement projects in history, and... a little more sass, if I'm being completely honest. 

By request, ATATT will make a return appearance.  All Tom All The Time has been a beloved feature during our annual Tour de USA, and since this year's road trip was canceled in favor of the Adventures of Unemployment... It seems only fitting to give ATATT it's proper stage time.

I'll go more in-depth about Jaylen in my next post, but suffice it to say he is doing beautifully!  He's an absolute delight and we are seeing such significant improvements in his development that its actually kind of absurd.  It's not as absurd as the sense of urgency with which Tom weeded a non-visible area behind our shed, but we'll save the  home improvement stories for ATATT.  'Til then, lets comb those human resource departments and find this eager beaver a J to the O to the B! 

Nobody Quits the Easy Stuff

As I have shared before, I am a little bit of a quitter.  I don't just quit when it's cold, people... I quit in all kinds of weather.  I quit kind of a lot.  I once shared about how surprised I am that I haven't quit parenting yet. It's worth a read, I promise.  Spoiler alert - it involves blow drying a human butt.  London just asked me to "come clean up the dribble-squirts on the couch" so trust me when I tell you that my life hasn't gotten less strange since my blow drying days.

So, why am I bringing this up?  Well, I want to let you in on a little something that I am trying to do, and I am going to need some support because, well... I'm a quitter.  I truly want to succeed at this little something, and I maybe need some support and accountability or else  I will feel dumb and afraid of failing and I will quit  I might lose a little steam.  So, I am going to tell you what I am trying to do, and I need people to  slap  encourage me if I quit.  I know what you're probably thinking, "you're a big girl, do you really need other people to keep you from quitting?"

The answer is "Yes." And also "shut up."

So here goes nothing... I am going to commit to blogging every other day or so, with a very specific purpose in mind.  I have asked Miss N (my youngest son's birthmom) if she would like to work together to write a book about open-adoption, and I am thrilled to say that she heartily accepted!  I have been gathering questions about adoption, race, parenting, marriage, life and faith from lots and lots of readers, and this will give me a jump start on what I will be writing about between now and October, which is when I will start the second annual 31 Days of Kindness.  We will be using some of these questions to guide us in working together on a book.  I have received questions some really hard questions, like, "Do you love your biological children the same amount as your adopted children?" and "Do you think there are certain people who should not adopt?"  I promise to answer each and every question that I have received... so stay tuned!

One thing I am particularly excited to announce is that Miss N will be making an appearance on the blog doing a guest-post!!  So... if there are questions you have about her perspective on adoption, race, parenting, marriage and faith, please let me know!  She is eager to get started and is also gathering questions in the same way that I have been.

A huge part of me feels silly and embarrassed for even writing this, but I am starting to recognize that "that huge part of me" is a fear-driven, people-pleasing egomaniac that is afraid of failing or being judged.  But, the thing I fear most is wasting an opportunity to do something amazing.  I don't want to be driven by fear, but by faith.  I don't want to be people-pleasing but, rather, God-honoring.  And I don't want to worry about being judged, instead I want to judge others. Kidding, kidding... What I really want is to just not quit.  Because one thing worse than failing, is never having done anything big, or important, or challenging enough to make quitting a temptation.

When You Don't Have a Boss, You Still Belong to Someone

The sermon at church today was actually entitled  "When Your Boss is a Jerk."  It was a great sermon, and I love learning how to have a biblical perspective on everything, including a jerky boss... but for the first time in almost ten years of marriage, Tom and I looked at each other and realized that neither of us really have a boss anymore.

On Monday, we found out that Tom has lost his job.

In my last post I mentioned that his school was cutting back, and we knew there was some risk that he would be laid off... but, I honestly did not think he would be.  Tom has worked (very hard) for nine years at the same job, regularly moving up the ladder and taking on more responsibility, often for no increase in pay.  He has always received excellent feedback on his evaluations, maintained great work relationships and was in the process of making plans for next year with one of his superiors.  So, we were feeling pretty secure.  Until Monday.

Because Tom works from home, we have slowly been hit with different realities about how this job loss will effect us.  Here are just some...

• We lose our sole income.  While I have always tried to do a little something part-time, I do not work outside the home for a number of reasons.  The biggest being that I genuinely love being home with them, and we decided early on that if there was any possible way for us to live on one income so that I could be home with them full-time, we would do it.  Logistically, it makes sense for me to be home since I would have to make so much money in order to pay for childcare for five kids... and what's the point in making a ton of money, just to end up giving it to someone else for taking care of my kids when I can just take care of them (and love it) for free.  I don't really have any skills that are marketable enough to expect to earn money to cover childcare, let alone to earn more than that.  I would consider a temporary gig, if it were sayyyy... going on tour with inspirational speakers or something.  But even that, I would only consider it if I didn't have to try to guilt women into buying diet pills, because the last time I went to an inspirational conference-type-thing for women, all the speakers were pressuring women to buy these diet pills and I vowed never to attend something like that again.  But, I guess under the circumstances I might consider being a pill pushin' inspiration.... but only because it's short-term. 
• We lose all the home-based work benefits.  Our home phone, Tom's cell phone, our internet, computer, printer, fax machine, a portion of our mortgage and utilities are all considered work expenses because he has worked from home.  We will have to return those things that we have been using for years, and searching for a new job without a phone, computer and/or internet is not exactly possible... so despite this being a time where we will certainly have to cut out all extra expenses, we actually have to start some paying new bills.  The good news is that I have my tippy-tappy (which is what I have named my computer) and I am a very good sharer.  I think that Tom is really excited about doing his job search on my laptop the size of a postage stamp.  Probably the most depressing moment when Tom got laid off is that they called him on his work cell, which is a Blackberry from the 1800's, and when he hung up, the "s" key fell off his phone and rolled down his leg.  At least he isn't sending a good phone back... if they want the very first cellular device ever created, then they can have it.
• We have to find a new job.  I know this is obvious.  I'm still processing, okay.  Finding a new job is a really big undertaking, especially if we want to support a family of SEVEN.  This means we have to make connections, ya know, network.  We gotta be shakin' hands and chit-chattin' around.  This feels really savvy and grown up, and I don't know if Tom will ever be the kind of guy who "just wants to get his name out there" which I am perfectly fine with because guys like that usually annoy me.  But, right now, we gotta get his name out there.  So, for anyone with any connections... his name is Tom, and we'd really like to get that right out there as quickly as possible.
• I have to be an extra good wife.  Don't get me wrong, I should always be a good wife... but when your man loses his job, there is this extra pressure to be super supportive and wonderful.  I don't even know what this "wonderful" is that they speak of, but according to many Google searches, I think I'm doing okay with "supporting my spouse during the ups and downs of unemployment."  I'm pretty sure there is a lot of patting involved, and I am very committed to patting as often as possible.  
• We have to live out all the stuff I write about on here. (Insert dry heaving.)  We have had a rough year, and I have come from some rough stuff even before this year and I have been very open about my struggles on this blog.  So, it comes as no surprise to regular readers when I say that we love Jesus.  I have openly shared our belief in Jesus and I have even shared my UNBELIEF during some really dark moments. (Like, remember that time when London was in the hospital and I said that I would probably turn to street drugs if anything happened to her?  Ya know, low points like that.)  I try to be honest and real about my struggling through this life, while trying to cling to faith in a God who promises to know and see and care.  One thing I took from today's sermon was about resisting the temptation to find our identity in our work.  I realized that our identity, and our security, comes from our Father, so it is not about what job Tom gets, or even about what job I may end up doing for a while... it's not about what we DO that provides for us, but who we BELONG to.  The reality is that if I really believe that God is my father and my provider and I am his daughter... then I have a big, fat inheritance waiting for me.  And if I believed that to be true, then I wouldn't be so worried about what this life looks like right?  Right.  The truth is that I just don't know what faith actually looks like in this situation, but I am gonna Google that too, and I am going to fight really hard to live out all the stuff I write about on here.  

So there you have it.  We are beginning the adventures of unemployment.  I am hoping that this is a very brief journey and that something will come through for us quicker than we expect and that it is such a perfect fit for Tom and our family that it blows our minds.  In the meantime, please pray for us as we make all the necessary changes and sacrifices that need to be made, and that the kids will learn valuable lessons during this time.  (Annalee already suggested we make feedsack dresses and sell eggs like they did during the great depression.)  Please pray that it never comes to that, and also pray for Tom, that he never doubts his competence or his ability to provide for his family, that he would know how proud we are of him and how much we respect and appreciate all of the years he has worked so hard to provide for us.  Pray also for my inexplicable urge to smash my neighbors car windows with a shovel.  I suspect there is a little displaced anger happening in that situation, but I can't exactly say for sure.  Finally, please pray that you will hire Tom.  Thank you and God speed. 

Moving Forward

Sometimes there is so much happening in my life at one time, that I give my blog the cold shoulder.  It's like hitting "ignore" when a long distance friend calls... not because you don't want to talk to her, but because you can't possibly talk to her until you have two solid hours to actually fill each other in on everything going on.

So, here we are, more than a month since my last post, and a lot has gone down.

First and foremost, I want to thank all of you who offered prayers and condolences while Grandpa Anderson (or Papa as he is known by our kids) has suffered from pancreatic cancer, been in hospice and finally, went home to be with his own Papa in heaven.  We felt loved and supported by so many who prayed for our family and came to his funeral to celebrate his life alongside our family.  It has been a long few months watching Papa change into a shadow of himself, but up to the very end he made sure that all the kids had plenty of love, hugs, laughs and treats from Papa's candy bin.



Grandpa's diagnosis came shortly after we brought Jaylen home, so the whole family has been living this parallel life... going from appointment to appointment, test result to test result, and admittedly, from worry to worry.  It has been a very challenging season for all of us.

As far as Jaylen's health is concerned, I am so happy to report that he is doing wonderfully.  He is still considered developmentally delayed, but he is doing exponentially better than he was.  The unresolved issues that he seems to be facing are not at all detectable to an untrained eye.  His muscle tone is still more rigid than it should be, and the default position for his thumbs remains that they are typically indwelling, or sort of tucked in more than they should be.  Both of these things have improved considerably over the past couple of weeks, though, so I am rejoicing in each developmental step that he reaches.  He is rolling over, and holding his chest off the floor, and even seems very close to creeping and crawling soon.... I guess having rigid muscles isn't all bad.  (I've been working very hard to get a little rigidity to my tone, but that isn't working out as well.)

On the hearing front, Jaylen seems to be in the same place.  He is still not responding as a hearing child would, but not entirely as if he were profoundly deaf either.  After wanting a second opinion, and receiving mixed reviews about the results of his Audio Brainstem Response test, the audiologist has decided to repeat the test, hoping for more accuracy now that he is a little older.  That will be in July, the same week that he will have his brain MRI.  Hopefully the two results combined will give us a clear picture of his neurodevelopment as well as the status on his hearing.  In the meantime, the county is sending a physical therapist and a T.O.D. (teacher of the deaf) to the house once a week.  This will help equip us in learning sign language if we need to, as well as give us tools for teaching Jaylen how to communicate.

As if all this weren't enough to keep our minds perpetually occupied, we have also learned that Tom's job situation is a little shaky.  The school he works for has been forced to make a lot of cuts, and we are  waiting for the ax  trusting that the Lord will provide for all our needs and are  absolutely terrified  excited to see what He has in store for us.

The best news that I've got going for me is that Jaylen is doing much better, and he is seriously cuter than all the other babies on planet earth.  Because he is improving, my average of 3-4 appointments/week is now down to maybe 1 per week... which is much better.  Additionally, we finally received a Medicaid number for Jaylen, so the medical bills that are piling up (literally, not figuratively - they are in an actual pile) should all be retroactively paid.  The last time I felt this relieved was when I finally wiggled myself out of a dress that I had stuffed myself into and got stuck in at Marshall's.  Sweet, sweet relief.

In other news, I turned 32 which means I am two years into my mission of becoming fabulous in my 30's.  I have plenty of time left people, so don't panic.  I will be fabulous in the next 8 years.  And then I will buy bedroom furniture... obviously.  I re-read a post that I wrote exactly one year ago today... it was shocking how much has changed, and in some ways, how little.  I feel like I am in a constant state of two steps forward and one step back, and for a long time I settled for that because "Hey! That's progress."  But, I am learning to take those steps back a lot more seriously because they are usually steps caused by self-deception, or laziness, or excuses, or compromise or just plain sin.  I have new standards, where I no longer tolerate myself blatantly taking a step backwards, because life is one slippery slope and this girl just doesn't have enough traction under me where I can afford to excuse even the smallest amount of backsliding.

So there you have it... I haven't come too far in the past two years, but I still care, so that's something.  It's been a big year for our family, hard and good and heartbreaking and beautiful.  We have grown as a family, both in numbers and in faith, and we have learned an unbelievable amount about how God truly does provide.  This past year he has provided us with the strength to move through the first failed adoption, and then provide us with the perfect child for our family.  He has provided us with a group of new and developing friendships, and He has provided for us in so many ways through our friends and church family.  He has provided us with a strong family support who has helped us this past year in more ways that we could describe.

I think that His provision over the past year has proved that He is worth trusting, even during the uncertainty we are facing now with Tom's job.  I think He is worth trusting, and He is definitely worth honoring with as many struggling steps forward as I can possibly muster.  I don't care how small or pathetic they are, as long as I am always moving forward.  After the year we've had, I can't think of anything worse than letting myself go backwards, or God forbid, stop moving altogether.

 In Loving Memory...

Hearing

Today we had Jaylen's ABR test (audio brainstem response) which is a natural sleep test that took about 3 hours to complete. We were not surprised to discover that Jaylen is, in fact, hearing impaired. The bottom line is that Jaylen has mild/moderate hearing loss in both ears and will be fitted for his first pair of hearing aids in June.

We were very surprised to learn that his hearing loss was not considered more profound, since he rarely (if ever) responds to any sound, even very loud noises close to his ears. What is difficult about this is that he SHOULD technically be able to hear conversational speech, but is not responding to it. At this point, this means that the concern is less about his ears now and more about the brain. Basically hearing aids should make the full spectrum of sound available to him, but that won't necessarily mean he can process/receive sound properly. The audiologist confirmed that the hearing loss was likely caused by gentamicin poisoning (toxic levels of the antibiotics he was given at birth.)

We are still processing this new information since, as I already said, we can clap or shout right next to Jaylen's ears, and he usually won't even blink. We are also trying to wrap our minds around what it means to receive sound, but not be able to respond to it. This new discovery puts significantly more stock into the brain MRI. We were originally undecided about whether or not we were going to do pursue that test,the but after today, I would have them to the MRI tomorrow if they would let us.

Without a good look at his brain, there is no way of knowing what is causing the disconnect between receiving some sound and his ability to startle when appropriate, or turn toward a loud sound or voice.

I am exhausted and confused. I had prepared myself for the "worst case scenario" and was feeling excited about
moving forward with some answers and a plan, no matter what the diagnosis was. I felt confident that we would be able to work with any challenges that we faced, and that there were going to be awesome and exciting things that we wouldn't get to experience with a hearing child. I felt prepared to tackle the challenges and move in a clear direction. The only thing I was really unwilling to tolerate was more unknowns... Surprise! We know less now than when we started. Well, it feels that way at least.

The good news is that none of this surprises the One who created Jaylen. Each of Jay's days has been written out since the beginning of time, so I am praising the Lord that He is neither shocked by this (nor as irritated) as I am. For anyone willing to fall on your faces in prayer, we would ask that you pray specifically for quick answers. I don't think there is anything wrong with asking God to do a miracle... I'll take one for sure! More than anything though, I am asking God for provision no matter what his health situation is. I don't ever want anyone to think that God failed if He doesn't choose to make Jaylen hear or process sound the way you and I do. Perhaps the true miracle would be loving him just the way he is and enjoying all that he will teach us through the way HE hears and processes.

That being said, I am praying for sheer speed in receiving answers. I can take whatever they tell us. God will provide all the Jaylen (and we) need. I can let God stretch me, and I can trust that He loves Jay even more than we do. But Mama needs some fast answers, because I can do a lot of things, but waitin' ain't one.

It's Been a Long Time Coming

My apologies to those of you who have been begging me for an update on Jaylen's health.  I have ignored almost all of you, and for that I really am sorry.  I am tired.  I am parenting so many people.  I am swamped with doctor's appointments, housework, normal parenting issues, adjusting to life with five, backed up work from my business, major life changes in more areas than I could even share, and just a pinch of clinical depression.

Don't get me wrong, I am loving life with my sweet baby #5, and everyone is adjusting beautifully... but, it has been such a hard season for us.  Tom's grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just days after we brought Jaylen home, so all things normal have been flipped upside down as we process both this new baby person entering our family, at the same time a beloved elder is preparing to leave it.  It has been so sad, and so hard to watch the family grieve and cope and care for him.  I am proud to have married into such a remarkable family, though, and the love and joy they show to one another is rare to say the least.  We have been treasuring any time we have with Papa, and the kids in particular are slowly processing what this all means.

I am more than overdue for an update on Jaylen's health, so I will briefly tell you what I know... which isn't much.  At this point, the neurologist and audiologist believe that the type and amount of antibiotics that Jaylen was given in the NICU are what caused Jaylen's hearing loss.  They also suspect that the level was toxic enough to also cause enough damage to his brain to cause developmental delays.  We do not know how extensive his hearing loss is, or the neurological concerns for that matter.  The next steps for the hearing will be at the end of this month, and the results of that will determine if/when the neurologist will put Jaylen under anesthesia for a full brain MRI.

So, it's not awesome.

This week, we have the cardiologist, a speech therapist and a physical therapist appointment.  The two latter are early intervention evaluations provided through the county.  I am thankful that we have so many free resources available to us through the county, especially since our insurance is committed to a staunch denial of payment for any and all services that cost more than a buck fifty.  (Okay, it's not that bad, but, if everyone who worked for that insurance company was moderately tortured, I wouldn't speak up for the first few days or so... I'm just saying.)

Apart from that, I am trying to adjust to all the major changes in my life.  Friendships, family dynamics, support network, etc... everything is under construction, and my neurons have responded by trying to convince me that the answer lies somewhere at the bottom of a can of sweetened condensed milk and an episode of Grey's Anatomy.  I can tell you  from  personal experience  an ancient Chinese proverb, that that is a lie from the pit of hell and neither ridiculously sweet milk, nor really bad TV will make you less depressed.

Jaylen has been sleeping through the night regularly, so I am getting back on my early morning routine, which is much more conducive to glorifying God and anti-depression than the aforementioned game plan.  These early mornings consist of a 4:45am wake up time, going to Planet Fitness to work out and get back home in time to shower and do my Bible study before the kids get up at 7:00am for school.  By the time the kids are starting school, I have been awake for five hours.  It's total insanity, but it makes me way less insane in the long run.  And if all goes well with my workouts, my butt will move back up to where it used to be.  I figure an inch a month is a reasonable goal... so, I am looking forward to a normally placed fanny by Christmas of 2014.  If I am successful, I am going to send detailed results in one of those Christmas newsletters that highlights family accomplishments.  So, we can all be looking forward to that.

This season has, obviously, been very challenging and apart from Christ, I would be hopeless and unable to get out of bed every day. Apart from my faith in Christ, I would be overwhelmed with suffering and I would probably be a bitter, hunchbacked lady swearing at people in the grocery store.  Apart from Christ, seasons like this would simply do me in.  But, the reality is that I never have to live or breathe one breath apart from Christ... which is such good news indeed.  I know I have a loooooong way to go in maturing and understanding who this Jesus person was and is, and what his life and death and (most importantly) his rising mean to me, but I know one thing for sure... I am helpless to do my story apart from His.

Can I get a witness.

Reuniting With Birthmom: Visit #1

This past weekend was our first visit to New York City since our son, Jaylen, was finally released from the NICU and able to come home and meet his new family.  We have waited with reserved hope during the thirty day window that Jaylen's birthmom ("Miss N.") has to revoke her consent of the adoption placement.  We had no reason to suspect that she would change her mind, but, naturally... there is a good amount of stress that comes with waiting to know for sure.

Jaylen and I flew to Manhattan on day #30.  It felt a little risky, like I was hand-delivering a last chance to get a good look and re-evaluate... but, rather than focusing on my own fear, I wanted her to have a visit on the horizon to look forward to during that first month, and we felt that it was really important for her to be reassured that we would make visits a priority.

Our visit was really nice.  Jaylen and I stayed with Melissa, a childhood friend of Tom's.  We had a great time... so much so that her friends thought that she and I knew each other from childhood.  We smuggled Jaylen into a late night movie, we ate the most amazing food, and we stayed up way too late chatting about anything and everything.  It was such a blessing to have a place to stay, but more than anything it was nice to be able to host Miss N. and some of her family members.  Visiting in coffee shops or a restaurant works, but isn't ideal.  First of all, the time restraints are a little too much pressure, plus it gets expensive... but, more than anything, I discovered that answering the usual adoption questions is 1,000 times more uncomfortable IN FRONT of the birthmother.

Oh. My. Word.

Melissa got a little peek into my world, which includes both unintentionally, and INtentionally racist remarks... and so much staring.  Even in New York City, the great melting pot of cultural diversity, nothing draws the stares of every person with a pulse more than a black baby swaddled up on his white mother.  Don't get me wrong, people "ooh" and "ahh" and say all sorts of wonderful things, but it really can be quite a spectacle at times.  At one point Melissa and I could not even finish our conversation because a wide-eyed guy was so obviously staring at us for a solid seven minutes, we just started laughing hysterically.  The most awkward moments came when one inquirer persistently asked question after question in front on Miss N.

How do I answer the question "Is he yours?"   Saying "He's ours..." only led to more questions.  Vague answers don't do the trick, so N. finally interjected that she was his birthmom.  Even then, the questions only continued.  "So you adopted her baby?  And you're here visiting?"

In the almost six years since we adopted Harper, we have sort of learned how to navigate the stares and questions of nosy onlookers.  We have learned to subtly correct  totally rude and ignorant  less sensitive language.  We have learned how to say things like "You wanna step outside?" "That is a great question, but actually we don't just consider our biological children 'our own,' all of our kids are ours!"  We have learned how to  verbally backhand  subtly offer more sensitive and appropriate language, and I rarely get upset, and I am almost never shocked anymore.  Answering those questions with an audience is a little more intense, and answering them in front of Miss N. was not easy.

We fumbled our way through the situation, and agreed to come up with a game plan for the future.  The bottom line, though, is that I am so fortunate to be answering these questions because it means that I get to be a part of something that is worth noticing and knowing more about.  And the fact that I am answering these questions with Miss N. sitting by my side means that I have one of those really rare opportunities to know and love the first mom of my precious baby boy.

Sure, it can get uncomfortable, but if that is the worst of my baby mama drama, I really can't complain!

Handle with Care

It's amazing how there are seasons of life where it feels like everything is crashing down around you all at once.  I have to say, I am in one of those seasons.  I feel piled up with all my own heavy stuff, and the heavy of those around me.  I am choosing to be thankful... for my home, my marriage, my mind blowingly precious kids, and for the life that I have, which is so fragile and easy to lose.

As much as I want to spill all of my guts, I am just going to share a quick update about Jaylen's health because I know that so many of you are hounding me for an update praying for him so faithfully. :)

Our insurance will not cover the center where we were hoping to have him thoroughly evaluated.  If we choose to take him there, it would be self-pay and we would have to move into a refrigerator box.  Instead, we are opting to go to one specialist after another in order to come up with some diagnosis.  If/when special needs are established, Jaylen will qualify for medicaid, and then that center will be covered.

At this point, we have only gotten in to one specialist.  I don't know why it takes 1,000 years to get a baby's heart and hearing and vision checked... but, it does.  His first appointment yesterday was with a pediatric dermatologist to rule out a genetic condition that presents with cafe au lait spots and hearing loss.  I feel like I know in my bones that he had meningitis and that that is what caused his hearing loss, because it wasn't handled properly by the hospital, so it was not surprising when she said that we were not dealing with that genetic condition.  She did say that one of his birthmarks was harmless, and the other wasn't a birthmark at all (despite what I was told at the hospital) and would have to be removed for it's risk of melanoma.

So, while I was hoping to check one specialist off the list, I actually have to add a pediatric plastic surgeon to the list... and we are still no closer to clear answers.

I feel like I am beginning a very long road that I am not equipped to handle.  I also feel like I love Jaylen more than I could possibly express, and I am thankful that I get to be the one who tries to have what it takes to handle this.

God is teaching me some ridiculously hard life lessons right now, and the biggest one is that I have underestimated the fragility of my life.  It is very scary being aware of how breakable everything is.  It is terrifying to know that my heart, my marriage, my kids' health, my relationships, everything... is breakable.  It is scary, but it is also a good reminder that I have to work hard to be a good steward of what God has entrusted me with, and it helps me long for heaven... where things can no longer break.

Jaylen's World Premiere

As I shared before, we decided not to share a picture of our new baby boy, Jaylen, because there was still a small chance that his first mom could revoke her consent for us to parent him.  We wanted to be cautious and respectful.  During our last visit, I had a conversation with Miss N. (Jaylen's birthmommy), where she looked at me like I was crazy for not posting pictures!  This girl amazes me time and again... she wants people to see his picture, to celebrate his arrival, and to see his gorgeous face!  She asked that I send pictures and videos of his homecoming, because she wants to see him welcomed home.  I don't know if I have the stuff it would take to see strangers welcome my child into their lives, while I watched from a distance.  I admire her selfless love, and her genuine joy in his being placed in our home.  I want to be like her when I grow up.

Our conversation about the photos got me thinking about the fear I am still holding.  I have said over and over that I want to live fearlessly, letting go of self-protection in favor of grace and recklessly abandoned faith.  These things are true, but I am also still scared she will change her mind.  She has given us no reason to believe that will happen, but it is still a very vulnerable position to be in - for both her and us!

Still, she gave us permission to share pictures with the world... and I am delighted to do just that!

So, here is the debut of our special guy, Mr. Jaylen Jonathan Khalil Capuano

Defying the Odds

Just like everything else so far in our adoption journey, bringing baby Jaylen home has been bittersweet. Saying goodbye to N. was very hard to do. I have come to love her and admire her in a way that I have never experienced before. How do you describe the love you have for the woman who gave you a remarkable gift you didn't deserve... Purely out of love? Christlike is the closest possible descriptive I can imagine.

On the other hand, I was ready to be home. Two of us were still in the city, three were home, and two others in Michigan. Having my family spread around the country was unsettling and I was very eager to put my huge family puzzle back together.

We arrived home on Wednesday night, and it was nice for some friends and family to meet Jaylen for the first time. Things were not completely normal since Harper and London weren't there, but home still felt nice.

Thursday morning was a whirlwind - Tom left at 5:00am to travel for work, I got the kids off to school, then brought Jaylen to their classes for a drive by show-n-tell and then took him to his first check up since being discharged from the NICU.

I expected to take a decent amount of time reviewing all the medical craziness of the past two weeks... I did not anticipate getting a new list of medical craziness to look forward to. Below is an overview of the big ticket concerns that had either been overlooked, or mistreated during our stay in the Bronx, that we are now concerned about:

- Jaylen has a severe heart murmur that was noticed, but was treated as a sign of the infection and never mentioned again. Our doctor was shocked that he had not been given and echocardiogram and insisted that we have one done sooner than later since the antibiotics cleared up the infection, but did not erase the significant heart murmur.
- Jaylen, again, failed the hearing test. While he was startling to very loud noises in the NICU, we have discovered that he no longer responds to sound at all. We went to a 10 school drum line competition today, and he didn't so much as blink when the drumming started. Our doctor looked at me after the hearing tests and plainly said "yeah, he can't hear anything." I knew he was not responding to sound, but I was still somehow shocked when those words came out of her mouth. She suggested we start looking at early sign language books.
- There is some concern with possible visual impairment, as he struggles to keep his eyes straight and focused for any length of time. Not sure if this is a muscle control issue, or a visual issue, but either are very concerning.
- We need to consult a general surgeon for an umbilical hernia, and to possibly have his circumcision redone.
- His grasping reflex is inconsistent at best, which was another indicator of muscle control issues, and concern for the doctor.
- He has gained about two pounds since birth, which we thought was really good... but we now understand that it's an unusually large amount of weight to gain in such a short period of time. We don't know what this means... But it was one more thing the doctor was a little baffled by.

So, from here... We are trying to get a pre-approval from our insurance to visit the Kirch Center, where specialists will evaluate Jaylen at a sort of "super appointment" then come around a table at the end of the day to discuss a diagnoses and care plan for him. It takes two months to get an appointment, so in the mean time, our doc is scheduling appointments with a cardiologist, an audiologist, an opthamalogist, a general surgeon and a pediatric dermatologist. (The dermatology concern is regarding some spots that we were told were birth marks, but may in fact be cafe au lait spots that sometimes present with hearing loss and indicate a possible genetic condition.

While I know that it is tempting to share every story of misdiagnosis and medical success, I ask that you please refrain. We KNOW that these things could all amount to nothing, and that there can be a complete healing. We KNOW that there are plenty of stories where a child was told he couldn't do x, y or z... but he defied the odds and did those things and more. We share these things not because we are worrying or doubting and need some encouragement, we share these things for the sole purpose that we DO believe in prayer, and are asking for these things to be lifted up to the God who heals, and sees, and knows... because He is the same God who creates.

Jaylen is a racial minority, born in the Bronx, which is the abortion capitol of the world... The fact that he is even here on this planet is already a miracle. I will unabashedly ask for you to join me in begging God for miracle after miracle to be performed in this boy's life, because I know that He created Jaylen with purpose. I simply cannot wait to see what He does in response to our collective prayer. More than anything though, I can't wait to see what He does in and through our son, this beautiful miracle who has already defied the odds.

in the NAME of love.

After going back and forth about the risks vs. benefits of sharing baby boy's name and picture before the 30 day window closes, I have decided to share his name. I will not be posting a photograph until the 30 days pass, out of respect for his biological family, but his name is the same whether she changes her mind or not, as we have decided to keep the name Miss N. gave him at birth. So, wether she ultimately chooses to parent, or we continue to... his name will remain the same.

I know his face will also remain the same no matter who has the privilege of parenting him, but the difference is that it would no longer be our right to share his photograph publicly.

Throughout our two and a half year adoption process, we have been planning on using the name Judah, should we have a baby boy. We wanted to remain open to any given names though, and were pleased to hear that Miss N. chose such a sweet and lovable name for him, one that was very meaningful to her. Knowing this, and loving the name, we decided to keep it, but to add in a little meaning of our own.

So, we are pleased to announce that on January 28, 2013 at 6:02pm our sweet Jaylen Jonathan Khalil Capuano was born in Bronx, NY... Weighing in at 7 pounds 13 ounces.

Khalil is to honor N's beloved uncle, and Jonathan is to honor one of Tom's brothers... Jaylen's beloved uncle Jonny, who has played a very large role in helping us raise some funding for adoption fees. Jonathan spent countless hours designing beautiful and unique t-shirts and dresses that he screen-prints by hand, out of the goodness of his heart. His work has helped take the edge off of the huge financial burden of paying for a second adoption.

Jaylen's name means "calm" and "tranquil" which is a perfect description of his demeanor so far, as well as his birthmama's. Something else that was kind of special to us was discovering that the alternatively spelled Jalon was a descendant of Judah - our intended first name for him.

So, there you have it... Little Jaylen, the name of a very special boy, who we pray will live a life that brings glory and fame to the name of Christ, no matter who ends up being his mommy and daddy. The bottom line is that while we see no reasonable indication that our parental status would be revoked, we simply cannot go another day without acknowledging and naming such a miraculous gift we have been given... even if it were only for a time.

NICU to Nemo

Yesterday was a big day for our little guy. First, he met Aunt Onnie (my sister BethAnn) and then he was discharged from the hospital after eleven days in the NICU!! It was a huge relief to walk out of the hospital with my precious baby boy after such a long wait.

When we stepped through the hospital doors, relief quickly gave way to shock and facial freezer burn as Nor'easter Nemo blizzard-slapped our faces. It was quite a first day out in the real world for this guy. We walked a mile and took two different trains in a blizzard, myself, carrying him in a sling, and Aunt Onnie lugging a huge Adidas duffel bag with a smile on her face the whole time. (*note: if you know BethAnn, this is where you throw your head back and laugh like a mad scientist, and if you don't know her... suffice it to say she was less than pleased to be carrying anything under such unreasonable conditions.)

Nonetheless, we survived the assault on all our exposed skin, and we made it back to the apartment a friend has so graciously allowed us to use. Once we arrived we realized that we were in a kind of survival situation where we were stranded with no food. To the rescue came our friend Melissa who swooped in with some of NYC's finest groceries and takeout.

As I mentioned in my last post, I have been enduring taste torture, so this was a welcome flavor revival. BethAnn is a recovering blandaholic, so she was very thrilled to experience "the middle eastern." She was so pleased with her relationship to one particular dish she shouted to the heavens between bites, "I mean, how awesome am I!?"

Melissa Waheibi was, in fact, the awesome one for facilitating such a noteworthy self-esteem transformation.

All food aside, it was wonderful to visit with Melissa and Onnie and just relax with the baby who was no longer tethered to any medical equipment. It has been so much fun to walk across the room with him.

He has quite a bad diaper rash due to the antibiotics causing explosive diarrhea. I have never felt so bad for a set of tiny brown buns in my whole life. Additionally, his umbilical nubbin is holding on for dear life and is starting to look a touch infected. After ten solid days on IV antibiotics, it is very frustrating to see any possible sign of infection, especially since the NICU doc said to bring him right to the ER if there is any sign of infection.

I feel like I have handled the big, scary stuff pretty well. I can hold it together for all of these adoption ups and downs, and I can even handle the really scary medical stuff... but, I gotta confess the these two little things just about pushed me over the edge. Fortunately Onnie was there to talk me off the ledge and encouraged me to call the doctor.

She said to keep an eye on it.

Crisis averted. So, we are here now just waiting for another of my wonderful friends to come to the rescue... My friend Julie, who is allowing us to hitch a ride back to Rochester with her on Tuesday or Wednesday.

I really do not know how we would have survived the time if not for the kindness and generosity of some amazing friends, family and even people I have only met once. Friends at home bringing meals to Tom "can't cook" Capuano, and my friend Melissa who brought life-changing meals to us here... My sister, Kristin, who is watching the two little ones in Michigan, and my sister here consoling my exhausted self when I need it most. Apart from my brief diaper rash depression, I have truly felt so lifted up and sustained by all of the encouraging words, the prayers and the help.

I know that God calls us to live in community for this very reason. Because without this awesome community of support, I would be famished, in a blizzard, carrying my own Adidas bag, and just sobbing into a dirty diaper.

Thank you Jesus for sisters, the ones I grew up with, and the ones I have inherited along the way.

The Good, the Bad, the Inedible

We have some very exciting news regarding our brave little guy!! He is improving so much that it looks like the NICU doc is comfortable just doing the ten day antibiotic treatment!!! He is ten days old today, but did not start antibiotics until late at night on his second day.... But still, that means that tomorrow, I can walk out of this hospital with a baby boy who is NOT ATTACHED to a single tube, wire, machine nor any other beeping thing belonging to a man. (See what I did there? Shakespeare don't mind.)

I really cannot believe this. It feels like I have been here for months. I have so many ups and downs along the way, as many of you have probably noticed, but this time in the hospital has been the happiest and crappiest of all. In review:

Happy- they let me ride along in the ambulance as they transferred his incubator to a different hospital.

Crappy- my baby was in an incubator.

Happy- they allow one person to stay with him at all times, that got to be me!

Crappy- I did not know this was going to happen so I had absolutely nothing with me... Not a purse, clothes, toiletries, nothing. I have been here for a week relying on my husband to bring me clothes and toiletries. While I appreciate it so very much, I just gotta say, boyfriend don't know a mineral powder from a liquid foundation to save his life. I feel like I am at a junior high lock-in without my overnight bag. And then the leaders were all like "Yeah, change of plans... we're locking you in here forever, and instead of your belonging we will provide you with a sick newborn, and inexplicable amounts of beeping at all hours, and we'll wait 'til you are all finally asleep, and then we will yell in a Jamaican accent and put a thermometer in your baby's butt. Hope you brought a bag for that!"

Happy- I have been bonding with my son. I have gotten to know him and care for him and he has gotten to know me. We take turns telling each other our secret hopes and dreams and let me tell you, this kid is going places. We are really very fond of each other.

Crappy- seeing miss N. struggle over the decision to pick him up or not, knowing that if she does she will have to put him back down.

Happy- seeing N. laugh and joke and relax into herself with us. I could only have dreamed that we would develop a relationship like this, playful and close, and sisterly. I am as wild about her as I him.

Crappy- this has, hands down, been the worst food experience of my life... And I grew up eating Spam on camping trips. I would kill for a can of Spam right now. Spoiler alert: The picture below is NOT furniture stuffing, but is a stack of rock hard, petrified waffles.

Happy- we will be leaving tomorrow with no major health concerns. After all this, he is in perfect condition! Okay, he may have one bum ear... but even that isn't decided. We have to retest his hearing when we return home.

Crappy- even though he is discharged, he is still just a little pumpkin baby and the doctors recommend we not fly with him until he is a little older. Two weeks would be the absolute minimum... So we are looking at early next week, or later.

Happy- he has a clean bill of health. So i can't complain!

Crappy- but if I were to complain I would say that I have been finding myself feeling very sad about the way some of this transpired, mostly as it relates to the kids. I had no idea we would be adopting a baby in February... so I thought nothing of taking a trip to Portland in January. Looking back, I realize that I missed the last days of normalcy with my family as I know it. I am overjoyed to have my family now complete, but I am sad that the last days with my family of six were spent separately, first because I had traveled, then because I ended up at the hospital lock-in. Not the end of the world, but it's a little crappy.

Happy: I have felt so lifted up by all the prayers and support. Baby boy is making a remarkable recovery and I am so pleased to say that he is joining our family.

Crappy: there is still this 30 day window of time left where N. can revoke her consent if she should choose to. I do not foresee this as a big likelihood, but crazier things have happened to better people than us. It makes it very challenging... Do we post pictures? Send birth announcements? The reality is that I can't keep calling him baby boy for 30 days, but adoption etiquette suggests you hold off on the big announcements until it is official.

So, there you have it. A few of my highs and lows to date. But as I lay here snuggled up with this babe of my heart, finally able to call him my own... I can't feel anything other than supremely blessed by a God who loves adoption, and led by example when He chose to adopt you and I into His own forever family.

Surrender & Soul Food

When a child is placed for adoption, his biological parents must sign a series of documents giving consent for another couple to parent their child. The documents basically confirm that they are choosing to transfer or relinquish their parental rights. The papers, in the adoption community, are typically known as "surrenders."

Yesterday, was a day of surrender for us all. Miss N. had to sort through a lot of grief and emotion in order to process this decision. Ultimately, she chose to surrender. We have had to sort through a lot of fear and worry, and have been holding our breath and waiting for a definitive yes or no, and finally, we were able to surrender all that and fell into the bittersweet relief of placement day.

We met in Harlem, Tom, the kids, my mom and his parents all came together, and I met them there because I was coming from the hospital in the Bronx. We signed all the paperwork and went into a conference room where Miss N. and her boyfriend met our whole family for the first time.

After such an emotional morning for N. we were surprised to find that while he was pretty quiet, the mood was relatively light. She enjoyed seeing the kids, and really got a kick out of London.

Perhaps this was because she was the only one who did not heed my pep talk beforehand about being sensitive to how Aunt N. might be feeling. That speech went in one ear and out the other for London, and she was just as bossy and insensitive as ever. I couldn't help but cringe when she shout-asked N. across the table "Wayuh's yoy baby!?" Only by the grace of God himself did N. seem to find her endearing in the moment.

After the placement ceremony we all went out to eat at Sylvia's in Harlem. It was so special to go through this whole experience together - the beautiful, the gritty, the painful... and then walk away and eat together as a family, Aunt N. included. A lot of people can say that they have eaten soul food with their baby mama, but very few people mean it the way I do. I felt completely blessed in that moment, it was food for the soul indeed.

Stuck on the Details

These past six days have delivered blow after blow, and I am afraid that this little guy has gotten the worst of it. We got the disappointing news yesterday that he will need switch to the 14 day antibiotic treatment. What started as seven days became ten, and now, we are up to fourteen days.

The emotional ups and down have kept me pretty preoccupied from the logistics of what is going on. Tom, on the other hand has stayed very much focused on the logistics. (My thinking: Nothing is more important at this time than being here to focus on the adoption. Tom's thinking: There WON'T be an adoption if he has no job, and therefore, no house.)

Details, details...

Until now. Now, we are at a point where I can no longer ignore the logistics. The reality of the "details" is that Tom only has one more vacation day off of work (we used a lot of his time off in October when we traveled out for the other possible adoption.) The girls have missed more than enough school and they are all having a hard time understanding why kids under ten are not allowed to visit the NICU.

They met the baby yesterday for the first time, very briefly, after an emotional appeal to the day nurse. It was a shock to see how many "five kids" really looks like. But, it was such a relief to have all my babies in one place for the first time.

This poor baby boy just continues to have new medical issues arise daily. It is very hard because on top of the legal and emotional piece with the actual adoption, and the logistical issues with Tom's vacation time being up and the kids getting back to school... We have this thick, underlying layer of the baby's health. Even if all the other layers are peeled back, we still need to be here another ten days at the minimum.

They are now concerned with his kidney function. His hearing seems fine to me, so I think that concern can be checked off. They are still treating the infection and the main focus is his eyes and kidneys now.

We just received news that the we got the required signature to take care of the legal matter of the birthfather. Tomorrow, N. is scheduled to meet with a legal team to sign surrenders and at that point we will do a special placement ceremony where she will finally meet all of our kids. Marlie in particular has most wanted to meet miss N. or Aunt N---- as they will call her.

Tom picked up N. and is on his way to the hospital now. This will be the first time she has seen the baby since she was discharged, as she felt that having less contact with him would be best for her to start processing it all. We will have a brief reunion together and then the social worker will me to discuss all the plans.

I expect these next few days to be beyond emotional. Between tests and test results, signing papers, meeting our family, the placement ceremony, then sending my family home without me so I can stay at the NICU.... I expect to cry and swell up to the point that I am unrecognizable. (This has happened before and, trust me, it's terribly unattractive.)

If all goes according to plan, Tom, Annalee and Marlie are going home on Tuesday to return to regular schedule of work and school. My mom will take the Harper and London to Michigan, where my sister (Kristin) will watch them and they can get back to their regular schedule of bossing each other and peeing the bed. My other sister (BethAnn) is flying to NYC on Thursday to be with me here, so I can have occasional breaks from the NICU.

I know this post is not deep or flowery, but logistics never are. I want to thank so many of you who have offered support, encouragement and prayers. I wish I had time to update people individually... But there is simply no time. Reception is spotty and texts am pictures seem to only go through to iPhones.

Regarding the name and pictures so many have requested, we are just waiting until thing are a little more official, just to be respectful. I promise, nobody wants to pump you with pictures of his sweet face more than me!

Thanks again to all of you who have lifted our family in your prayers. Please keep them coming. Having faith the the Lord's will will be done here is really all we have going for us here.

Feeling For Him

Day 4:

I am lying on a cot with a baby on my chest.

I feel like I have been in labor for four days straight, and I have finally given birth. I am tired and sore and drained emotionally... And I think I am finally holding my son.

Today was day four. We got to the hospital and spent time with N. and visited the baby in the NICU. We met another family member, which was very intimidating because he was a totally bad mamma jamma and is notoriously protective of miss N. I think we ended up winning him over though, because by the end he was insisting that Tom come to his house to watch the Super Bowl with him and his friends. This might be a word for word description of Tom's worst anxiety nightmare, but I think that is the seal of approval we were all hoping for.

The hospital had baby boy transferred to a different NICU because of over crowding. It felt nerve wracking to see them transport his incubator by ambulance... but I was able to go with him, and they were transporting lower risk babies, so I felt really reassured that he was able to travel.

Before he was transferred one of the NICU nurses was asking me about adoption and my family. A few minutes in to the conversation we made the connection that she was working at the same hospital in New Jersey where Harper was after he was born. There is no way of knowing whether or not she ever cared for him, but it was really neat that these two brothers may have had the same nurse.

The ambulance took us to the new hospital and N. arrived shortly after. We both knew that this was going to be a really hard night, her first night apart from him. It felt so unfair that the baby got sent to the NICU and she was sort of robbed of the time that she should have had with him in her room.

The new hospital was loud, chaotic and in pretty rough shape, but the good part was that the babe had his own private room and one of his mommies is allowed to stay over night with him while he is here.

N. graciously insisted that I be the one to stay overnight, which was the first mom thing I have been able to do. It was very bittersweet knowing that I would be stepping in as mama, probably for the rest of his life.

Passing the torch, so to speak, was another one of those beautiful, sweet, heart wrenching moments that I will never forget, I will always be thankful for, and never want to experience again.

I keep trying to imagine watching another woman hold the baby I built from scratch and carried for the better part of a year, knowing she will get to experience all of the snuggles, and the kisses and the triumphs in my child's life. I try to imagine how I would feel as I sit and watch this just days after my belly had been sliced open, my skin stretched beyond repair, my body forever marred.

I can imagine all the things I might feel: envy, bitterness, sorrow, grief, relief, regret, worry... I don't know if I could smile through my tears and also have the courage and grace to show genuine joy as well as sorrow. I don't know if I could muster it. But, she did. Miss N. This girl who I have come to love as my own rubbed her nose against his and gave him to me.

Day 5:

I spent my first night as an almost-mother of five with this sweet little guy snuggled up to my side. He is such a little fighter.

The pediatrician said that he has to be here at least five more days. We still have no idea what has caused the infection, but he is also not passing his hearing test in one side, and is having some complication with his eyes. I really believe that all of these things are going to be perfectly fine, but I will be very relieved when they just ARE fine.

We have spent the last 24 hours just getting acquainted; our smells, our voices, our touch are all unfamiliar to this baby who will eventually come to know those smells, feelings and sounds as the most familiar things in the world.

There is a strange span of time from when a baby that might be yours is born until the moment somebody officially says he is yours. I am in that span of time now, and I keep catching myself closing my eyes and feeling for him. Not with my hands, but with my heart. I don't even mean to, but it's like my deep subconscious knows I am starting to feel maternal love for something my biology isn't registering as my offspring.

I keep catching myself touching base with my heart, as if I am asking it "do you feel like his mama yet?" I think that in some way I am trying to reassure myself that once I feel like his, than he will really be mine and I can finally breath.

Just saying that feels so selfish in the midst if everything N. has gone through. Because as hard as it is to exist in this in between time where anything could happen, my biggest problem is whether or not I feel enough like a mommy for this baby that I will likely get to keep.

That, my friends, is nothing compared to the one who is closing her eyes and feels nothing BUT him.

And so, my prayer for us all is that when we close our eyes, on purpose or just as a reflex... And we touch base with our hearts, I pray that we find them open and full. And I would pray that when this baby's moms are wondering if they did right or are doing enough, that we can feel him, our son, and he can feel us. But I long for the day when miss N and I touch base with our hearts and, more than anything else, we can feel Him, our God, and are sustained by the grace and peace His promises bring.

Day 3: Sweet & Beautiful Heartbreak

Yesterday was one of those days where you spend the whole day either crying, or trying not to cry, or eating so much Chinese takeout.

We have spent countless hours on trains and Tom pulled more than one body part brisk walking from one subway station to the next. We have navigated the metro system pretty well, but it allows us very little time to process any of the craziness that we are experiencing.

This is truly one of the hardest things we have gone through together, but also one of the most beautiful. Our time with N. has been very sweet and wonderful, which also describes her perfectly. We also had some very precious time holding baby boy in the NICU.

He was amazing, his grip was strong, he is eating and sleeping like champ and his eye contact was impeccable - like he really cared about what we had to say, ya know? Not like some other babies who are all like "blah blah blah," but never take the time to really listen.

I'm joking, but the point is that deep down I know he has some infection somewhere, but you absolutely cannot tell... to me he just seemed perfectly perfect.

We had the opportunity to speak with the man who's consent we need in order to move forward with the adoption. He voiced his concerns and we were able to address those and share a little about who we are and what life with us might look like. I debated about whether or not to again promise not to burn anyone, but it didn't seem like it would make as much sense in this conversation. Nevertheless, the call was overall very positive and left us feeling pretty confident that he agrees with and supports the adoption plan.

This is a small step in one of a million hurdles before we can actually call this baby ours. But, it's a start. We did get the hospital social worker to sort of advocate for us a little so that the staff can start to understand that we need to be in the loop also, and we did get permission to be with him in the NICU even after N. goes home. This was a huge relief because I am really eager to bond with him, and neither N. nor us want him to be there alone.

Our time was very emotional there, but I have never seen such strength in all my life. I don't know how somebody can be so engaged with their baby, loving, affectionate, proud and beaming... and still have the clarity of thought to remain focused on her plan. In my ignorance I assumed one must remain emotionally closed off or else they change their mind.

This is not the case. Miss N. is very open and loving. She said is remaining focused not on her own pain, but the fact that she believes that what is best for him is to be with us, specifically.

I will spend the rest of my life trying to wrap my head around that. I simply cannot fathom such sacrificial love coming from a human person. That is pure, divine, Jesus love being shown through that young girl.

Please pray for her precious heart, and she is asking specifically for prayers for strength and peace. I have never seen anyone stronger or more peaceful in all my life, so you'll be happy to know that your prayers are working in advance.

Today N. will be leaving the hospital, and hearts will break. Ours, hers, and that sweet boy who doesn't know what's coming. But, as long as she wants us to be his parents... we will be there with and for them both. And we will do everything possible to be worthy of being his mommy and daddy.

The Happy & Crappy of Adoption

Today was, again, a total emotional roller coaster. I always refer to both sides of adoption - the beauty and the tragic separation of mom and baby.

We had our second visit with the the birthmother today, who I am going to call N. for the remainder of the blog. I am tired of figuring out a politically correct term for "lady who had a baby and is planning for you to adopt said baby, but everyone knows that she has a window of time where she can change her mind, in which case she'd just be a mom, you don't need to say birth." Until there is a good word for that, miss N. it is.

Visit #2 happies and crappies:

Happy: This visit was exponentially better than the first one. For starters the social worker actually joined us and was able to facilitate just enough to get conversations going, but not enough to make us feel mediated. Our conversation and rapport is very natural and comfortable. This girl has blown my mind with how kind and respectful and others-focused she is.

Crappy: We did not get to see the baby during this visit. He had been taken to the NICU for IV antibiotics. The infection is either at risk of moving toward the brain, or is possibly already on the brain... But after two unsuccessful spinal taps, they have yet to find answers. When London was sick, I knew how to be there and advocate for her because she was my daughter. It was exhausting and challenging, but my role was clear. It is very difficult to have your child sick in the hospital, when nobody but the child's other mama is acknowledging us as his parents! We have no right to speak with his doctor or ask questions or even be in the room while things are discussed. Even though N. wants us to be involved, we have zero understanding of how to navigate this situation as maybe-parents.

Happy: We got to meet another one of N's family members... and it was still very emotional, but with her there was obvious love and support along with genuine grief. She was not pressuring N. to change her mind, there was no guilt or manipulation. She was accepting of the decision and we spent a good amount of time alone with her, and letting her know us more. She said that this made her feel much better about the adoption.

Crappy: We have found that a lot of people involved (miss N. EXcluded) are confusing adoption with foster care. Some have not understood that adoption would be long term, and others have concerns about whether or not the baby would be properly cared for. Yesterday, the family member said she was just scared because she had heard horrible stories of kids being beaten and even burned. What on earth do you say to that?? We were shocked and horrified that THAT was what we had to address to make her feel at ease.

Happy: We are not criminals, so we could actually reassure her that we will love and care for this baby well. We described all of the fun things we take our kids to do, in Rochester and on our cross country road trips. We described a typical day in our home, which involves neither neglect nor abuse. We also mentioned that we would never burn a child. It made me sick to even have to say that out loud. In the end, she felt very positive and reassured and wants to remain involved.

Crappy: During this discussion, the family member mentioned that she has a box at home that she has been keeping for N. when she had the baby. It is full of diapers and clothes and little things she would need as a young, single mom. She said she still wants to send it for the baby, which is so sweet and should be a happy, but when I pictured her saving away little baby items to make sort of starter kit, I couldn't help but feel like it was just a straight. up. crappy.

Happy: In the exact moment that Tom and I were deciding how often we could realistically afford to travel to New York City to see N., we got a message from a long ago acquaintance who offered us the use of buddy passes available to her as an airline employee, as well as a stay in her Queens apartment if/when we would need. This was such an overwhelmingly generous offer, which would allow us to travel back and forth so cheaply that we can actually agree to all of N's visitation requests!! It felt like more than a happy, it felt like God's perfect providence... and timing!

Crappy: There is still a major piece of the puzzle missing in order for things to move forward. We need the signature of the birthfather. Whether or not he would be willing to sign is still a little wishy washy. Whether he has any real interest in parenting or not, remains uncertain. The not knowing is craptastic.

So, we keep waiting. We head back to the hospital shortly and if I don't get my hands on that baby today, miss N. and I are storming the NICU. I think that the best way to connect as two mom's is to have a good caper on the books.

N. may be discharged today, so I am dreading what this goodbye will look like. I don't know how to do this. I have decided that I love too much for my OWN good, but I think it might be good for her. And as we face a possible goodbye today, I would be lying if I said that I didn't want to adopt her too.

First Meeting

It's very hard to blog about our meeting because it was such a personal experience for everyone involved. As much as my desire is to share my story, my heart, my life... an even stronger desire is to honor the family involved.

So, in vague and general terms... Here is how it all went down. On the car ride we were notified that the baby has some sort of infection and was having a spinal tap done. We know nothing more than this at this time. We are praying it is not any of the scary stuff, but something simply treatable. We would ask for every prayer you can muster for God's healing touch on his tiny body. And for calm hearts for all his family, both biological and maybe.

We arrived at the hospital about 2 solid hours late. We got stuck in traffic, then took a couple wrong turns, and it literally made us two hours late.

By the time we actually arrived, London had said "this is NOT how we get to New Yoyk Thity" a minimum of one zillion times and we were all kind of on our last shred of patience (or for me in particular, sanity.)

My mom got dinner for the kids while Tom and I went up to the hospital room. It was such a surreal feeling taking the elevator up. We truly had no idea how on earth this was going to go.

The room was very small, absurdly warm, and full of family members, (mostly disapproving). Our interaction with Mom and baby was very brief, but positive. I think she was happy to see us and she happily passed the baby to me to hold. I got told hold the sweet baby boy and hug his mommy a time or two. We did not discuss much or stay long, as the emotional climate in the room was very charged.

I did not expect a fairy tale visit where we all sang worship songs together, and I did not expect anyone to yell out "leave, white devil!" I expected something in between. And this visit was definitely somewhere in between... but a little closer to one end than I would like.

Nobody called us white devil. Nobody called us anything really. I think we just represented a horrible outcome in their minds, and I really cannot blame them for feeling that way.

We stayed only a short time and said our goodbyes. We took flowers and a card and a book called A Mother's Legacy: Your Life Story in Your Own Words. It is sort of a journal with guided questions about your life and your upbringing, who you are and what you want your legacy to be. Whether she parents or we do, I think that it will be important for this little guy to really know who is mother is, in her own words.

We decided to leave and allow the family time to continue processing her decision. We assured her that there is absolutely no pressure on our end, and that she can take the time she needs to think through everything. She was lovely and pleasant toward us, and invited us back this morning.

This time, the social worker will be there, which will be very helpful I think. We got to the apartment that some stranger/friends have allowed us to (once again) utilize. We were exhausted and drained and emotional. My head felt empty and tinny and everything hurt. My head, my body, my heart and soul.

I hoped to sleep until we had to get on the train to go back... But a machine is rhythmically making that impossible. So, today we go back, we meet to discuss things... I don't even know what things. I am too exhausted to try to prep for conversations and I am just praying this baby is fine and that his mom can make the right decision... and I mean it when I say that I have no idea what that is.

I know she loves this baby, and I know that I will too if she asks me to. I know I already love her no matter what she decides, and I am pretty sure that she loves Tom and I too.

Nothing white or devily about it.

NYC: Meeting Mom & Baby

Last night, the baby was born. I had hoped/planned on being at the hospital when he was born... But he came a few days early and he came pretty quickly. Both mom and baby are doing fine and we have spoken with birthmom/first mom/ new mom with a decision to make. Our contact with her remains really positive and when we spoke this morning she reiterated that she still wanted us to come to the hospital today.

Sooo... We are about 3.5 hours away from the hospital. My mom is with us and will sit with the kids while we meet them for the first time.

In the interest of saving time, here are the answers to the FAQ's:

- No, we have no idea what to say or do when we get there.
- Yes, I am disappointed that we missed the birth.
- Yes, it is looking like this adoption may actually take place.
- Yes, anything could change at any time.
- Yes, there is a window of time where she can revoke consent, it is 30-45 days I believe.
- Yes, that is terrifying.
- Yes, we actually signed up for this roller coaster on purpose.
- Yes, she named the baby.
- Yes, we are considering keeping the name she chose.
- No, we aren't announcing anything or posting pictures until we are certain this is our guy.
- No, we don't know how long we will be there.
- Yes, our blood pressure is through the roof.
- No, the kids are not calmly anticipating both possible outcomes.
- Yes, they are, instead, using sibling aggression and excessive questions to manage their conflicting feelings.
- Yes, Tom's driving has gotten worse.
- Yes, he's still a better driver than me.

We should arrive in a few hours, fly by the seat of our pants as we meet this girl and her babe for the first time, and discuss plans. I do not know how to prepare for the emotions that are coming, but I have decided its probably a bad idea to arrive sobbing. So, I am gonna try to hold that for the parking lot. Tom, however, doesn't care what anyone says... he's just committed to sobbing the whole time. Ain't no stoppin' Tom once he starts.