Adoption story #3 - Melissa

Every girl should have a sister and Mark really wanted to go to Korea - why not combine the two! We started the process to adopt a little girl from Korea when Kelsey was about 18 mos. We were open to special needs and were hoping she'd be under 2 yrs. old.

When her paperwork came I remember holding it thinking - I hope her BD is in the spring - already 5 family BD's between Aug. 28 and Oct. 4. Well, it was Sept. 1 - oh well it'll just be the time of year for BD's I guess. Of course we immediately fell in love with Ka-Sil Lee when we saw her. Mark wanted the name Lisa, but I wanted to keep Lee as her middle name - mine is Leigh as well, just not the Korean spelling. So, we compromised with Melissa and called her Lissy or Lissa.

Melissa had qualified as a special needs child. At 3 mos. she developed a subdural hematoma which required surgery to relieve the pressure of the blood leaking into the space between her brain and her skull. Why she developed this hematoma was unknown. It is generally from some sort of head trauma, but her foster mom said there had been no falls or bumps and there was no reason to suspect otherwise as she had a long history of taking great care of her foster children. It is a mystery to this day. Korean doctors recommended removing the shunt placed in her skull leading into her stomach after she arrived in the US. They neurologist here recommended leaving it alone as it was causing no trouble for her and it remains in place to this day. The only time it's caused any trouble was during her pregnancy - it seemed to be a situation no one had encountered and after much consideration it was again agreed to leave it be.

Although not a typical special need Melissa's conception was not ideal to put it mildly. Melissa's birthmother was a 16 yr. old farm girl from a small village outside of Seoul who was walking home from school and a Korean soldier "forced himself upon her" which resulted in her pregnancy. It was information important to her story, but made no difference to us. Regardless of the soldier's decision, ultimately God alone decided that Melissa should have life and nothing else was important to us. We knew she was meant to be our daughter. I will say that I grieve more for her birthmom then any other due to these circumstances and all that she had to cope with as a young innocent girl. I wish she could know what a great daughter she created and what beautiful grandbaby girls she has. Since that is more then unlikely, I pray she has found great joy in her life.

Mark's first international trip, other then Canada, was to pick up Melissa. He was excited and probably just a little nervous. An adoption escort, a person who brings back children to their adoptive families, asked Mark to help her move 26 boxes through customs in Korea. They loaded 2 large carts, each pushing one, and customs split them into two lanes. Customs asked Mark what was in the boxes and he replied explained he didn't know they belonged to "that lady" who had already passed through customs as she was a frequent visitor. He explained the boxes had supplies for the orphanage. They opened up one box and to Mark's dismay they were full of syringes. They then removed him to the a small room with a bright light over the chair like a movie scene of an interrogation room. They proceeded to open the boxes finding tourniquets and syringes. After about 6 boxes they called in a supervisor who was very angry and shot questions at him about what these supplies were for and why didn't he know what was in these boxes. The 13th and final box had baby clothes and formula in it - thank the Lord. Then he believed Mark's explanation and let him leave. Not a great introduction to international travel, which I might add never seemed to dim his enthusiasm for it.

Mark had some paperwork to finish up the first day in Korea and was ready to meet our little girl.  He went with Miss Park, the social worker, to the foster home where she'd been since she was born, other than when she had surgery.  Mark meet the foster parents, two other foster girls that lived with them and their biological 20ish daughter.  He was able to coax her over with an Asian pear, apparently her foster mom did not think that suitable food for a toddler.  The irony is Melissa had terrible onion breath from some onion chips her foster mom had given her.

After a bit they all went outside to walk around the neighborhood.  Many of the neighbor ladies seemed to be giggling at Mark.  He wasn't sure, but wondered if it was odd to them culturally that a man would come to get a child.  We'll never know I guess.

The next day he went back to social services to finish some more paperwork.  The building was huge, but overcrowded with hundreds of kids, foster parents and social workers.  They had a tiny elevator and it was stuffed with people.  Mark, who is generally not claustrophobic, was anxious to get out. They told Mark he would need a full fare ticket, a cost we had definitely not planned for as he'd brought an employee pass for her.  Finally, all was in order to go home.

Early the next morning the foster mom, social worker and Melissa met Mark at the airport.  The foster mom, who had been very stern and stoic looking up until this point.  Cried non-stop until Mark got onto the airplane.  He was a bit shaken by that as she'd shown no emotion previously.  In hindsight it was, of course, a good sign that she was attached to Melissa.

Melissa seemed quite bewildered by the whole situation.  While waiting for take-off Melissa fell asleep.  About an hour later she woke up and started crying and screaming, "Ahma!".  Mark didn't know what she was saying, but a Korean woman nearby explained she was crying for her mother.  He felt so sad for her.  Of course in those days we had not thought about attachment or how terribly traumatic this was for her.  Seems ridiculously ignorant, but we adopted through Children's Home Society, a very reputable agency and taken all the classes required and not once do I recall anyone mentioning the fact that this would be an emotional and heart-wrenching loss for her.  It seems so ignorant, but we all just thought we were doing a good thing and were excited to have this new daughter in our family never really considering the impact it would make on her to suffer such a loss.  Loss of the only mother she'd known, the only country, culture and language she'd known.  All of that was left behind.

After about two or three hours she finally cried herself to sleep and the rest of the trip went smoothly.  When they arrived the other kids - Chad, Conor, Jonathan and Kelsey - and I met them at the airport.  Some dear friends were also there to welcome her home.

None of her early health issues have caused any problems for her and for that we are so very grateful.
She's a beautiful, strong, smart young married woman now with two beautiful girls. I found a Korean proverb that says  - Even children of the same mother look different.  How true that is in our family.  Melissa once told me she would forget that she didn't look like us until she looked in the mirror and was reminded we didn't resemble each other. Her daughters, Kaia and Brynn, have given her faces to look at that resemble her own, something she'd been missing a long time, which I'm sure have healed some of her loss in a way nothing else could.

Thank you God for choosing us to be her parents and thanks Melissa for being our daughter.

                                                          We love you Melissa!

My Thoughts on Income Taxes

Mark and I are always a little flummoxed by all the complaining about income taxes.  You see we have a solution to this problem.  Our solution allowed us to pay no income taxes whatsoever for 10 years - completely legally.  What is this amazing plan you might ask?  Well, just have more dependents than you have income and voila - no taxes.

I won't say it's an easy way out of taxes, but it is effective and, I might add, a very fulfilling life.  So it'll save you from seeking meaning in life - not enough time and your meaning is living under your roof.  You won't have nearly as much time to complain about how much you have to pay in taxes or wonder why you should have to pay your hard earned money in taxes.  Just work really really hard, make a modest income and support too many people with said modest income.

I'm pretty sure a financial advisor wouldn't recommend it as a great investment, but I'm pretty confident Jesus would.   Works for us.

Cultural Literacy - Sort Of

I take my role as a caucasian mother raising AA children very seriously.  So much cultural information that  a AA child might pick up just being in a black family or community generally becomes a purposeful conversation for us.  Some are important pieces of history or teaching racial slurs so they know when they are being insulted - a coping skill they definitely need to know.  Then there are the hilarious or absurd conversations as the one we had last night.

My Ella is a very curvy girl already and will become more so as she grows and giving her a good self image is utmost on my mind when I look at how quickly she is physically maturing.  So conversations such as we had in the car last night are important for us to have.  What a huge disservice I would do to my daughter to send her out into the world completely ignorant to her history and culture.  Therefore, we had a talk about big butts - yes a very cultural conversation.

While switching stations they were listening to a hip hop song which had a reference to a girl's big backyard - not sure they heard it, but I started gabbing that many hip hop songs make references to, well, big butts - which is cultural.  So, I started telling Ella what a great apple bottom she has and how when a black woman asks, "Do these pants make my butt look big?" and someone says yes - this is the answer they're hoping to hear.  On the other hand, a white woman would likely be insulted.  "Isn't that silly," I said.

Then I launched into the song from Sir Mix-A-Lot that they know from Shrek, "I like big butts and I cannot lie!"

What's broken mean?

Yesterday during worship at church Callie was in her usual spot, front and center, singing and dancing her dolls on the stage as she stood before it.  The song was Hosanna by Paul Baloche and one line states, "In Your Kingdom broken lives are made new,  You make us new."  As soon as that line finished she rushed over to me and said, "Mom, what's broken mean?"  I was already feeling emotional from a long week and tears were threatening to spill over just from weariness as I held her face in my hands and said, "It means hearts - broken hearts Callie."

She rushed back to her spot to continue singing and memories of her face when she first came filled my head.  She was beautiful, but her face lacked all expression and she was a perfect example of a broken life. Then I watched her continue to dance her dolls and sing along - what an awesome vision of a broken life made new.  How grateful I am that God has allowed us to be a witness to her transformation and what hope it gives to me that He will continue to make lives new.

Dancing at the edge

For about a week now, we've had a child who is dancing at the edge, as we call it.  This means they walk right to the edge of misbehavior or a temper tantrum and then at the last minute step away.  It is exhausting to parent during those times as you never know when the cliff will be jumped.  Today the edge was stepped on in a store as the child threw down a toy, crossing the arms as they didn't get their way.  With a typical child I'd have scooped them up and out we'd gone.  This is not possible with this child.  Too big and they would likely have run top speed away from me which would have been incredibly upsetting to the other child with me and dangerous for the child who would have run.

Parenting children with attachment issues is a whole different kind of parenting.  Yes, you must hold them accountable, but in order to safely go through the day, sometimes concessions are made.  It's been a long week and Mark and I both feel as if we're walking the edge too - the edge of our own temper tantrum.  

Next weekend is our anniversary and boy could we have used some time away, but that is not to be.  Hopefully, next week will be calmer - hope does spring eternal, but frankly tonight, we're just very weary.  Perhaps tomorrow we will all take a big step away from the edge - that would sure be nice.

She's My Hero

Today Callie had a field trip to a museum and our state capitol.  All week her school staff have been trying to prepare her.  Their biggest concern was her extreme fear of the "big" bus.  You see she is picked up daily at the end of our driveway by the "little" special ed. bus.  She always wears her headphones which mute the sounds she has to deal with.  Her driver knows to never honk the horn or warn her if it's really necessary.  Even then, she may have a meltdown.

Well, she did it.  She got on the bus and had a great time and her behavior was awesome!  She has overcome so much and I'm so proud of her.  I wonder how many fears I have that prevent me from my full potential - ones I may not even be aware of because I have worked around them for so long.

Callie you are awesome and totally my hero - way to go!

Not borrowing trouble

Again Callie has amazed us.  She came home with a spelling test this week that her teacher allowed her to take orally.  She spelled - bought, spread, grocery, these, write and emergency perfectly!  A+ 100%  This coming from the girl who might not walk, didn't speak at all till she was past 3 yrs. old etc. etc. etc.

The other day she was turning the lamp on - just carefully turning the knob.  This may not sound amazing to anyone else, but to us, this is completely amazing.  Just a year ago she was throwing lamps down or across the room on a fairly regular basis.

It is a great thing to remind ourselves of the humongous strides she has made.  It's so easy to get bogged down on what she is unable to do, or the behaviors you fear will never go away - especially as she gets bigger and we get older.  Those are legitimate fears, however, I remind myself of the biblical wisdom in Matthew 6:34 which states "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of it's own." - Amen to that!

Martin Luther King day in school

The charter school Ella and Jacob attend does not take Martin Luther King day off. It's our first year there, so I'm not sure why that is, but they were only back two days from their long winter break before MLK day, so perhaps that is why.

I asked them in what ways the school or teachers recognized the day. Ella said that basically they just said - Happy Martin Luther King day. Not quite what I was hoping for. Jacob said they read a book detailing Dr. King's life. He said as his teacher was reading everyone turned around to look at Jacob. Apparently he is now the only black kid in his class, so when they were discussing segregation they naturally looked at him. He didn't like that - who could blame him. I told him that likely the kids looked at him because they had never heard there was a time when kids of different colors weren't allowed to be in school together. And I do believe that that is probably true. Everyone wants to believe that we can be color blind, but we aren't, nor do I necessarily think we should be.

In a Newsweek article from Sept. 2009 titled "See Baby Discriminate" three groups of families were asked to discuss racial equality with their children. The first group were simple given multiculturally themed videos, the second group used the videos and were to follow up with a discussion and the third group were given a checklist of topics, but no videos. Out of about 30 families in the third group - 5 abruptly quit the study. Two told the researchers, "We don't want to have these conversations with our child. We don't want to point out skin color." Hey guess what everybody - they've already noticed! The study went on to discover that those who thought their goal of "teaching" their kids to be colorblind actually taught the opposite. When asked, "Do your parents like black people?" Fourteen percent said outright, "No, my parents don't like black people." 38% answered that they didn't know. By ignoring people's race parents actually were telling their kids different must be bad.

This is my opinion, but living in a suburb where diversity exists, but as I stated Jacob is still the only black kid in his class, we, as parents, have to talk about it - in a positive way - but we must address that race does exist. How do we do that? Well, I'd say taking advantage of Martin Luther King day, for instance, is a good start. Discuss who he was and what he did. Go to one of the many special events that go on the weekend before the holiday. Send them to me - I'll tell them the story of how I got to shake his hand as a little girl. Beyond that, seek out multicultural friends and don't be afraid to discuss their differences - notice the difference in hair, skin etc. Don't make it the focus, just work it in to the conversation. I have an adult son who made me aware of using color when describing someone - everyone - "my friend Mary - she's white, has blond hair and blue eyes, about my height" - it is a part of our description and our reality and not only used for people who's skin is different from mine. I always ask my kids what color the person's skin is when they describe them, it's simply a part of their description, not the focus.

Thankfully, on Wed. the kids came home to tell me they had a special program about Dr. King, his legacy and how people are different and the same. Yes were are, but talking about our differences is just as important as pointing out how much the same we are - in our house different is good - really good.

Sunday mornings

Sunday mornings are generally a little hectic around here. We had everyone dressed etc. and ready to go except Shannie and Chad. I sent Ella and Jacob out, then Christian and Callie down the basement stairs. Mark was concerned about them being out by the van because it was running. I said I was sure it was OK for a minute, but then said that he should probably head down - more because our van lift is acting up and has to be hand cranked until we can get it fixed.

I finished getting Shannie and Chad ready and headed down in the elevator. When we got outside Mark said he found Callie kneeling in front of the exhaust pipe of the van like she was having a facial. Yikes! Somedays that girl just cuts years off our lives I'm sure.

Giggles on the couch

Tonight there was a family film on TV - Change of Plans - in which a couple without children inherit 4 children due to tragic circumstances. It was fun to watch with the kids and a bit of a tearjerker - completely unrealistic - in just a few weeks the kids all fall in love with their new parents - right.......

During one commercial break there was an ad promoting adoption - specifically older adoption. The kids would say things like, "now I have a mom and dad to tuck me in" and "now I have a mom to read me a story every day" - ah, so cute. Then one kid says, "sometimes my mom lets me and my sister stay up late and watch a movie" to which Ella and Jacob shout - "ah, no fair you never do that!" Then Ella says - "wait, we're doing that now aren't we?" Well, technically it wasn't late, but glad she recognized she didn't get such a raw deal.

Adoption story #2 - Kelsey

Seven months after Chad moved in Jonathan was born. My itch for a girl began soon after and "trying" to make one wasn't in our plan. We were done, biologically speaking. We moved into a rental home soon after Jonathan was born and had room for more. We were still fostering, but primarily providing respite for special needs kids so their parents could take a break.

October of 1984 we received Robby as a long term foster care placement. He was 14 yrs. old and had multiple disabilities - used a wheelchair, non-verbal and severely mentally retarded. Unbeknownst to us at the same time Robby was settling in to our house, our daughter Kelsey was being born.

Kelsey was a typical Minnesotan, a blue-eyed blond. She had a family history that put her at risk for possible developmental delays. Her social worker chose our family because we had only asked for a girl up to age 4 with no other restrictions. I'm sure since we had adopted Chad she felt we would deal with whatever issues might develop. The social worker representing our family was floored that a family with 3 kids - two of whom were perfectly healthy would be chosen. She was 4 months old, healthy and not yet showing signs of any developmental issues.

Kelsey was an easy baby - very content and slept through the night right away, which was wonderful. The boys were all excited to have a little sister.

We were shopping one day not long after she arrived and the salesperson looked at me, I have hazel eyes, and then Mark, who has brown eyes, and said, "Where did she get those blue eyes?" I hesitated for just a second thinking I didn't really want to explain it all and said - "My mother had blue eyes." Very true - no connection at all of course, but true. Long explanation averted - at least that time.

Now - no girl should be without a sister should they?

Adoption story #1 - Chad

November is National Adoption Month. One suggestion was to write your adoption story. Well, we have 9, so thought I'd try to write 2 or 3 every week of November.

Our first story begins before our first born was, well, born. When we got married Mark and I discussed whether we would have biological children at all. It was in the heyday of population zero and we were pessimistic about our world and it's future. I told Mark I wanted to at least have one biologically and then we could adopt - and so it began.

In our first job out of college we were houseparents in a group home for mentally retarded adults - there were 21 when we arrived - 2 over the household's limit. As were learned about the lives of our clients we found that the adults who had had loving families to grow up in had fewer mental health issues and were enjoyable people to be around. Several of the clients had spent much of their growing up time in institutions - this was more the norm at the time then the folks who grew up at home. We decided we wanted to adopt a child with special needs and be that difference in their life.

Conor was born Sept. 16, 1980 and shortly afterward we received our foster care license and began providing respite for kids with special needs. There was a family who were featured in a movie called - "Who are the Debolts?" They had adopted 14 children with multiple disabilities and were the pioneers of promoting the adoption of kids considered "unadoptable". The father of the family came to a local adoption seminar and after listening to his inspiring story I was hooked. They brought photo albums with pictures of kids from all over the US who were waiting to be adopted and I was mesmerized by all the beautiful faces.

We met with Children's Home Society and explained the type of child we were interested in adopting - special needs and up to age 8. We were 27 at the time and were sure we could handle anything, I think. As we looked at the Minnesota photolistings we picked out a picture of a beautiful blue eyed blonde who was almost 8 years old, had Down Syndrome and was named Chad. He had been in the book for about 2 years and had recently returned to foster care, thankfully the same one he'd previously been placed in, after a failed adoption. They seemed generally stunned that we'd be interested in a child with his needs and who was so old. Since he was the child who had been waiting the longest and was the oldest - they suggested we start with him. They also suggested that we go to the county for our homestudy as it was unnecessary for us to pay their private fees when the county would do it for free. This was long before the state began paying private agencies to handle special needs adoptions.

So, off to the county we went and attended all the required classes etc. and filled out stacks of paperwork. Our county contacted the Chad's county and a meeting was planned. Our first meeting took place at a restaurant in northern MN where he lived. As we were discussing Chad with his foster mother, a wonderful, patient, Christian woman who seemed a little overwhelmed trying to keep up with him, he dashed into the kitchen and started sticking his hands into the fresh pies on the counter. We had only just met him, but, apparently we were expected to chase after him.

On the drive home we weren't sure what to do, but we also felt as if we'd made the commitment to him from the moment we picked his picture. Then, the unexpected happened and we discovered we were pregnant. This was definitely not in the plan. Again, we just knew that God had chosen Chad for us and we weren't going to back out.

We had at least one more meeting - again in a restaurant - this time he tried to climb over the booth we were sitting in. Thankfully the next visit was in our home where we could control the situation a bit more and in January of 1983 Chad moved in for good. It was a tough transition for all of us. Conor had been an only child, we had had just a 2 yr. old and now had to navigate school and special education. Chad had been placed from the foster home he'd lived in all his life into an adoptive home for six months and then returned and then placed with us - a lot for any kid to figure out let alone one who was nonverbal and developmentally delayed. We had never heard of RAD or reactive attachment disorder. We were basically clueless and didn't really take into consideration all that Chad was experiencing. Frankly, I think we thought we were pretty awesome and who wouldn't want to be with us - it's amazing what difference a little perspective and life experience makes.

For the first weeks, months and years we counted the time till he'd be 16 and we could consider a group home. I know it sounds heartless, but we were just coping as best we could. Those who didn't know Chad as a little guy shake their heads in disbelief that he was ever that busy - he's aged, as have we, and slowed down considerably. That kid who we were sure would kill us off by the time he was 16 turned 36 this past summer and is easygoing and fun to be around. He brings us laughter every day with his silly antics and dance moves. Although, sometimes I think it'd be nice to have some time during the day when everyone is at school and I don't have to think about what to do with Chad when I need to run an errand or something, I don't feel an urgent need for him to move on. Someday, but not today. Thanks Chad for starting us on this adoption journey and thank you for forgiving us for our ignorance and being patient with us as we learned how to be a family who, at least tries, to be full of grace.

New to me

Over the past month Jacob has been tested thoroughly by school. He is coming upon his 7th birthday at which time the school must officially "label" him. His previous label was DD or developmentally delayed which Mark and I have disagreed with due to his incredible ability to verbally express his emotions. We have 5 other children that truly fit the DD label and none of them are as capable of expressing themselves as he is. Frankly, I don't think I'm as in touch with my emotions as he is. Not even sure I want to be.

The official label is now SLD - specific learning disability. This is determined by a gap between his intellectual level and performance in school. Was no surprise to me, but it is new to me. Although Conor likely would have received a similar label, we were homeschoolers at the time and did not have him formally tested. So, it is our first foray into the LD world of school.

Last week Mark and Jacob spent the day at the zoo. Mark was a little skeptical of taking him as the last visit ended poorly as Mark had to carry Jacob out from the bowels of the zoo to the parking lot with Jacob kicking, hitting and screaming at him the whole way. Ella was along and humiliated as well as angry that their zoo time was cut short. However, this trip was a great father son time and Mark thoroughly enjoyed it. When they walked in the door the first words out of Jacob's mouth were - "I was bad" - which was said at the same time Mark was raving about what a great time they had. Since they were talking at the same time Mark didn't even hear Jacob and I chose to ignore it and praise him for all the fun they had. This is one of the parenting hurdles with RAD - reactive attachment disorder - kids. We seem to be constantly trying to reassure him that he is lovable and awesome even when he is acting most unlovable and unawesome.

Mark told me later that he asked Jacob what animal he would most like to be. "A turtle," he said, "Why a turtle." "Because I could go into my shell for protection." Whew - he is so very transparent, which is helpful, but also makes me so very sad. How do you convince a wonderful child that he really is wonderful - warts and all? All I know to do is to keep reassuring him with the same kisses good night we always have - Mama loves you, Daddy loves you, but most of all - Jesus loves you. How very grateful I am that that is true and hopefully Jacob will some day believe it to the very depths of his soul.