Help Bring Teller Home!

If you are able, please consider donating. We are working in connection with Adopt Together and every donation, no matter how small, will make a difference! As soon as the first donation is made, Adopt Together will review our profile for a possible grant as well. ALL money donated through Adopt Together for our adoption will go directly to my agency, not to me. Thank you so much for considering it and for those that, like me, live paycheck to paycheck, feel free to share on facebook, twitter, or your own blog.

Thank you from our hearts!

 

BRING TELLER HOME!

 

 

 

 So, it's been a lifetime since posting here- and we have NEWS TO SHARE! Both Randy and I have shed tears over the last 24 hours since receiving our pre-approval to adopt Teller. YES! Ellis is going to have a little brother!!! The costs to adopt have skyrocketed since I brought her home, so yes, we are having a fundraiser. WITH an AWESOME raffle!! Just keep in mind that this will be ongoing for several months as we prepare all the paperwork to bring this sweet boy home. There are very large fees throughout the process ($3700 for this month, which includes the first agency fee and the home study cost). Every single donation, no matter how small, gets you ONE entry to win an iPad mini. Every $25 dollar donation buys you TWO entries. Then, we've decided to draw 2 more names for the runner up prize: a Kindle Fire for each :) GoFundMe doesn't allow for raffles, so you won't see that mentioned in the link below. China has given us until December 20th to get our paperwork to them. So, our goal is to raise as much as we can by then and announce the winners on December 12, my birthday! Thank you again, every last one of you! Link below if you are able to donate, or just share the page!

Bring Teller Home!

 

I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once

~John Green~

In just 2 months, third grade will be finished and we will find ourselves making our way to Ohio again for yet another surgery. 2015 has been a mixed bag for sure. So many challenges, but many things to smile about too. She's braver than the bravest, and constantly reminds me of the power of living in the moment.

Mom is exhausted most days but not unhappy. Life is harder now than it's been previously but we will come out on the other side. I fight with insurance and wish this state had better aide for those who are disabled. It's disgusting how much I pay out of pocket for my child to do what every one of us takes for granted. But we muster on.

Ellis excels and loves "multimication" (she still says it this way, and I'm trying to hold on to her being little, so I never correct it). We pull teeth to get her nose in a book though. So unlike her mother who never puts one down.

In Ohio this past December we met Aron, the son of Joyce from New Hope Foster Home. Incredible, really. He was the person who took care of casting Ellis's leg in China for 2 months. What are the chances we'd meet in Ohio, and he would be a resident and assist in Ellis's surgery?? Such a small, strange, and magnificent world sometimes. Ellis became fast friends with his daughters and tells me everyday she wants to move to Ohio :) She saw her first snow as well and nearly cried saying goodbye to it.

so it's come down to this

I know I never post here anymore, and that is in large part due to being a single, full time working mom (to one very amazing girl). We are heading to Ohio for a major life changing surgery in 5 weeks and frankly the costs are simply overwhelming. I have had a garage sale, and am in the process of selling some worthy items in my home, and working some overtime this month to help offset the cost of travel/stay for a full month in Ohio. I also will not have enough paid time off from work to cover her entire 8 week recovery period. Please take a look at this site, and consider donating if you are able. We appreciate every cent, and all of your positive thoughts and prayers!

Ellis's Ohio Trip Medical Fund

dream a little dream

 

 Early this morning I was racked with guilt. You had gone missing, somehow- and were picked up by a city rescue team. They left a message, telling me if I did not come and claim you by 6pm, you would be put to sleep. I was frantic. Calling over and over, leaving messages begging them not to touch you, that you were mine and I needed you. You were sick, had cancer, and needed me. No one was picking up the phone to hear me ask for you and claim you. Some time later I was at work in a laboratory and my eyes were on the clock. 10 minutes and you would be gone forever and I couldn't find you. I called again, near hysterical, pleading through an answering machine- please bring my boy back to me. And then. My boss, the sounds of voices on the other side of the lab door, laughter, and words like 'Oh she will be so happy' and 'Thank you for bringing him here'. The door opening, and you you you you there (!)- there in front of me then next to me, me bending and kneeling to take you in, hold you. A reunion so sweet I couldn't catch my breath, shedding tears, relief flooding through me. "Buddy, buddy. Oh Buddy I love you I'm so sorry I lost you". You, always the one to forgive instantaneously, no thought of the past or your own fear being separated from me. Snuggling into me. Welcoming me. 

 God how I miss you Ransom. My heart breaks sometimes with missing you. Thank you for visiting me in my dream last night. It has been far too long since I last saw you.

in the summertime

2nd grade came to a close in early June, 3 years with Mrs. S, sad good-byes, the promise of summer and late bed times. I missed the end of year play, no less. The oppressive heat has settled in like an *unwanted* warm blanket, almost suffocating. The sounds of mockingbirds singing alone at night, the cardinals perched on our bird feeder, sunsets, sleeping in, lazy days. No vacations, they aren't possible now. Surgery on the horizon, again, for my Goose. Long talks about her favorite tv show (Beyblade), the length of life, what the year 3000 will look like, China parents, and wishing for a sister or the ability to walk. Coloring together, seeing movies, giggling. A lot. Some tears too as she grieves those 3 years in her class. Anxiety mounts as the new school year inches ever closer. She's outgrowing her chair. Hair is longer by the minute but never long enough for her ;) Hiro sleeps and snores and barks and bites his leash, happily devours the rainbow loom bands that easily find their way to the floor. Play dates. New friends. Dinners next door and dinners out. G and I working on this new relationship-as friends. Single parenthood simultaneously challenging in a way that equals pure exhaustion, but somehow equally as rewarding. Weight gain year after year. No time for anything but laundry, cleaning, yard work, job, a measure of sleep... oh, and the giggling, coloring, snuggling, talking. Short visits with family. Dad survives a massive heart attack. We dream of distant lands. A trip to China. Or Texas. Anywhere outside of the state we are in... meanwhile, day trips to the ocean or a new city, museums, parks. Staycations and swimming. Incredible thunderstorms. More doctor visits than a little girl can count. Life is hard. Life is also and always so good.

 

“How did it get so late so soon?” 

― Dr. Seuss 

 It's like glimpsing too far into the future, the "baby" that came to me so rapidly changing before my very eyes. It is difficult to witness time in this way, and not feel overwhelmed with a combination of grief and abundant joy, both at once.

the ghost of christmas past

 (pentax, film)

Wherever you are when you receive this letter
I write to say we are still ourselves
In the same place
And hope you are the same.

 The dead have died as you know
And will never get better,
And the children are boys and girls
Of their several ages and names.

So in closing I send you our love
And hope to hear from you soon.
There is never a time
Like the present. It lasts forever
Wherever you are. As ever I remain.

 (The Christmas Letter, John N. Morris)

Just after Thanksgiving, the tree was up. A family crisis of sorts pulled me away from virtual reality and deeply into reality. Meanwhile, a very dear friend battles for her sons life and I prepare my daughter for his hair loss. E and I sing Chinese songs together, over and over. I dive into one novel after another. I teach 2 new RNs how to juggle the demands of hospital nursing, and there are so many rewards in this. I listen to rain and thunder. I let the humid air sink into my bones and ask the sky for a real autumn, which has yet to show its face for more than a couple of days. I miss my mom to the point of tears. I contemplate Jupiter, writing a book, or returning to school. I browse websites hosting "orphans", wishing we could bring another daughter or a son into this small family of 3. I worry constantly, about everything: my weight, E's future, finances, outcomes that can't be predicted. E demands more math facts and floors me with her knowledge and love of a subject I never truly mastered. I imagine the crunch of snow under my feet, something I have not felt in so many years I'm almost convinced I dreamed the memory. I put on my headphones and practice my tones, anxious to be fluent in a language I barely understand. I go to a movie with a friend. I ask G if we'll marry soon and hardly wait for an answer. We are already married and the paper holds so little meaning for either of us. I celebrate my birthday (12/12), and it is very very good. I listen to music. Sometimes I dance in the kitchen. I hold my daughter's hand. I hold G's hand. I skip mass for another week and another and those weeks have turned into years. I miss God. I turn the music up loud in my car. And make silly faces with E. I snuggle with the dog, listening to his soft snores. I sit by the light of our Christmas tree, melancholy and joy abundant in my heart. I smile.

The beauty of this child is outrageous. And her inner beauty is equally astonishing- our girl is made of love, snuggles, giggles and apparently, lots of math facts.

Praying

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

~Mary Oliver~

spinal defects clinic: in which we meet with E's specialists from ortho to neuro and everything in between.

Last night in this house. 

E: I don't like my legs. 

M: You don't like your legs? 

E: No. I want normal legs (tears begin). I don't want these legs. I don't like the scars Mama and they don't go straight and one is longer than the other one. I just wish I could have legs that looked the same and so I can walk. I don't like crawling. 

M: (long silence, hugs). I wish you could have the exact legs you wanted Elle. But I have to tell you how very much I love your legs. Those scars remind me all the time of how brave and strong you are, so I love those scars. And you have strongest arms ever which give the best hugs I've ever had, so I love your arms too. 

E: Well I don't. My hands hurt and I don't want to crawl, I want to walk. But I never will. 

M: Maybe never. But we don't know what your future will be like yet. I hope you have a chance to stand and not sit all the time too. I wish I could sprinkle magic glitter over your legs, and make it possible for you to use them like your friends. But I still think they are the coolest legs because they belong to the coolest girl I know, who does amazing things not using her legs. Things no one else would be able to do- and that is really awesome. (More silence, hugs, and tears). 

Spinal Defects clinic is tough in ways that go so far beyond the physical.

Family Day 2013

First, when I was apart from you, this world did not exist, nor any other.
Second, whatever I was looking for was always you. 

 ~Rumi~

4 years since anticipation, excitement, fear and grief culminated in the creation of our little family of three. 4 years since the seeds of love were planted in each of us, and slowly bloomed. 4 years since you, Elle: light and grace and courage in one very small, almost 4 year old body- you, the bravest of us all. Happy Family Day, 高梅, who we are privileged to name and call: daughter.

"Sometimes if people ask why I can't walk, I just tell them I was born this way. Other times, I say- it's a long story and I don't want to talk about it right now".

~E~

(and a very smart girl, my daughter)

*At the end of my suffering, there was a door

Many, many years ago, long before this light came into my life (in many ways, not just by virtue of reuniting with G or bringing E home), a dear friend and then therapist opened a battered and much loved book of poetry by Gluck and had me read this poem, The Wild Iris. As a lover of the written word, and in particular, poetry, this introduction to delving into the root of my own suffering was unparalleled. But then, there is no match for one as gifted as my (now) friend H. He broke molds, including my own, and it is because of him that I have my being, full and well, scarred and renewed.

I think this is true for our daughter as well. There are countless doors she will and has passed through, all of them transforming her and us as we journey together. This poem is a testament to her many (and often excruciating) beginnings- from the womb into breathing life, born yet again to a nanny that was a mother to her, and born yet again to us, her adoptive parents. And each time, a departure that leaves a void incapable of being described. A primal wound, an unimaginable loss. She is, in a word, a hero in her own right. And that's nothing to do with the chair, or her physical challenges, but everything to do with her incredible spirit, her "though she be but little, she is fierce" soul.

I hold this poem close to my heart. I hold her closer.

The Wild Iris, by Louise Gluck

At the end of my suffering
there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth
bending a little. And what I took to be
birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember
passage from the other world
I tell you I could speak again: whatever
returns from oblivion returns
to find a voice:

from the center of my life
a great fountain, deep blue
shadows on azure seawater.

It has been a short summer it seems, as it closes in a few weeks and school begins again: second grade. I'm not at all sure how we landed here so quickly and easily.

E has been keeping up with her Chinese and practicing reading and math via her school website and has had a handful of play dates, never enough really for an only child. She's watched too much TV (insert My Little P*ny) and has barely read even one book (her least favorite activity). There are new challenges in physical therapy as she learns to navigate the world with this loss of sensation in her left leg. As she often says to me "It just feels like there is nothing there, like when I crawl, and it's like being in a hole". This weekend, she shared that "I just want to walk like other people mama" amoung other things she'd prefer to do just like us. I could only validate those feelings and let her process them. I refuse to sugar coat her life or tell her "But look at all the things you CAN do". When her grief surfaces, I've found that what is best for her is to experience it- somehow this allows her to move past it and never fear that she will be judged for what is in her heart.

I worry constantly about her future. A child of color, raised by white parents in a white family, who moves in this world differently than all of us: adopted into a culture she didn't choose, wheels for legs :) She remains shy yet confidant, and is a natural leader. It borders on bossy but I know one day this trait will only stand to serve her.

I continue my efforts to find all that I can about her past, which at this point is precious little. DNA testing has shown me that she is Northern Han (a majority group in China) and we have connected with 2 or 3 very distant cousins... so far, trails are cold. I have become an avid reader of news in China, corruption that is rampant in their IA program and trickles down to children with special needs (though it's not suspected in Ellis's case). I've had a birth parent analysis done by B. Stuy (very worthwhile for us) and keep in contact with her foster home, New Hope. If I have to take out a loan to get back to Beijing and Jiaozuo next year, so be it. It's just time to go.

As for me- well, work has changed. I've let go of the petty political BS and have embraced my role as a "healer" (never thought of myself in quite this way). I love my patients, my co-workers, and am constantly challenged and enlightened by those who fight for their lives. Cancer sucks, but it isn't without its gifts.

E is the same bright, healthy, growing girl-and a constant source of joy in all our lives. Our house is in need of major overhaul (floors, carpets, roof, broken garage door, screen door, peeling kitchen cabinets, accessibility accessibility accessibility-etc)... but we are content, and happy, and our lives are full. I couldn't ask for more.

in this summer

A second spinal cord surgery, done. She is pain free, but not without new challenges. We are making the best of it and hoping for gradual and lifelong improvement.

And now that surgery is past, we acquired a new wheelchair thanks to our friend Hayley and massive fund raising efforts (this chair allows Ellis to move over terrain she never has been able to independently before), and visited some family we miss like crazy- Aunt Kimmy and crew drove out  from Texas to say hi... our girl has proven she is ALL about family. She truly adores each and every last one of them, from grandparents to aunts/uncles to cousins.

  And then we squeezed in a wonderful trip to a beautiful aquarium just 2 hours south of us...

Such a blast, can't wait to do this again.

Here's to the rest of the summer and memories in the making!