Eyes and Arms Wide Open

We have sustained eye contact and true hugs this week. When I give E her bottle each night, she used to look around and occasionally glance up at me.  Now, she locks eyes and stares the whole time.  It is only two minutes, because the tip is cut off since she can't physically suck, but sustained eye contact proves her trust and attachment are strengthening.  She favors me for certain.  The other families we were with in China probably can't even imagine that! A month ago, if I tried to take her off Brent for a moment, she squirmed and panicked.  She goes to both of us freely, but has become a Mama's girl.

She has given hugs from day one and would come running with arms wide open.  As soon as she reached us though, she would tuck her arms in and keep them on our chest.  She's always allowed us to wrap ours arms around her, but a full embrace was not returned.  On Tuesday afternoon, while playing with fridge magnets in the kitchen, she embraced me with her arms around my neck.  A real hug.  It's wild that I will remember the exact moment.  The sensation sent shivers down my back and a flutter to my heart.  

She is bonding.  These moments confirm it.

She also knows her name now and says "Mama" discriminately for me.  She is following basic commands too, such as "Get your shoes," "Wave bye-bye," and "Put it in the trash."  I wonder how quickly she is losing her native language.  That makes me sad to think about, but I am thankful she is understanding us more.  

Still working on the sibling thing between Everlee and Penn.  Some days are better then others as brother and sister, just like any other family.  She's a big fan of the sleeping bag, so it's an easy way to cheat bonding with her brothers.    

Inaugural visit to the Children's Museum.  E couldn't get enough.  She tired on the way home, as you could see her processing all she touched and did while there.  

The 'ol water in a tub trick.  Grabbed some plastic sea animals and filled it up.  Keeps them occupied every time! Notice E had to put on a deflated floaty to play in eight inch deep water.  Adorable.  

Forgotten Pictures

Some forgotten pictures I want documented from her first days home:

Arrived home to a banner made by wonderful neighbors!

First night in her new room, carrying her special blankie made by Granny Grier and sporting GIRL jammies!

A totally mismatched outfit.  I adore!  

A friend gave E a baby doll.  At first, she was afraid of it because it talks and moves.  By the next hour, she was covering the doll up with the directions as a blanket.  

Brent, the first or second night as a Dad of three, embracing the chaos.  But he also has a look of "what did we get ourselves into!"

The New Normal

Beck started back at public school this past Monday.  While I loved every second of planning, teaching, and engaging Beck in our 8 week homeschool trial, this fall has to be about Everlee.  He had a tough School Eve, crying that he wants to be with me, but the moment he stepped off that bus the first day, we was all smiles.  In fact, he candidly said yesterday, "I miss being home with you Mom, but learning at school is waaay more fun that learning at home."  As much as I tried, I get it.

Beck being gone during the day has changed the home dynamics a bit.  I've seen Penn go backwards in his transition.  He notices E more and is even more up in her face.  He wants to touch her, tickle her, harass her, and annoy her.  However you or I wish to look at it, he most definitely had a harder week than last.  And so did I.  My patience with my baby boy grew thin, and this calm and collected mama lost it on him one morning.  I called B at work and he talked me through it.  The man even came home with roses.  We don't ever do flowers.  And he brought home roses.  I told him he was rewarding my bad behavior.  He chuckled and said, "I am reminding you you're human."  

I know there will be mountains and valleys.  I had seen him improve so much that I was taken aback.  I guess Beck distracted him enough daily that the competitive interactions between he and E were lessened.  When it's just the two younger kids, the tension between them comes out more.  We'll just take one day at a time.  She continues to be uncomplicated, social, and and unaffected by the chaos of our family.  

This picture describes my week perfectly.  E must have been thinking, Oh my Lord kid.  Enough already.  At least I was.

When she naps, I carve out special time with Penn.  I did this the previous weeks too, but never called it "special time." A therapist we saw this week at the International Adoption Clinic suggested I call it that.  One afternoon in special time, we made goo on the front porch.

The clinic appointment was helpful in many ways.  They not only did a medical checkup like a regular pediatric office, but several different professionals assessed her within his/her discipline.  She was evaluated on speech, fine motor, gross motor, and emotional well being.  The first team even discussed sibling reactions.  The whole appointment lasted three hours, lab work included.  Penn came with us since we don't have many options otherwise and vegetated in front of the iPad the entire time.  Gotta do what we've gotta do. Um, yes ma'am.  We flew all that way and spent months of preparation to adopt and raise our children in front of an iPad.  I felt like I should make that disclaimer at the start of her appointment...

E scored at 12 months for expressive language and 16 months for receptive language.  Her motor skills both tested at a 19 month level.  So, she is much further behind verbally, but that makes sense.  This isn't her native language and she doesn't have a palate.  All things considered, she is doing very well.  Everlee also had seven vials of blood drawn and did not flinch.  She helped the technician hold them for Pete's sake!  What a difference from our medical in China! 

Her next big appointment is September 17 at the Cleft Clinic. Again, conveniently, six different disciplines of medicine will look at her in one swoop.  I'm not sure if I remember them all but plastics, orthopedics, dental, ENT, and ??  At that point, we will have a better idea of time frames for surgeries and if we need to extend our stay in South Carolina.  

MUSC is a God send!

Insurance is too, though billing the first appointment was fairly comical.  They couldn't find her in the system, because her American name is not on any official documents yet, and her Chinese name was entered incorrectly.  Oh, Tricare.  

Other happenings this week:

We've been working on fine motor activities, as per the occupational therapist.

She played at our second home, Rolly Pollies, for the first of many times.  

We ate at a pizzeria, our first meal out with all five of us.  

We went to the local market.

And as you can see, Mommy finally got some pictures with all three of her darlings.

             

     

Mind Your E's and Q's

More Everlee-isms are coming out.  They are cute, telling, and worth noting.

She hesitates at each different flooring/ground juncture.  If outside, she stops in her tracks going from concrete to grass. Inside, she stands and waits for your hand going from tile to wood, wood to carpet, or even over a threshold.  Once she is physically over the change of appearance and texture, she is mentally over it too.

Everlee will only involve herself in one dish at a time.  If she's eating rice, she will hold out the bowl and make a noise for you to take it before asking for a drink.  She doesn't like more than one thing in front of her at any given time. When her thirst is quenched, she hands the drink back and then signs for the food again, rather than setting the cup to the side on her tray.  (That was a lot of jumble.  Does that make sense?)

Sweet E has been potty trained, the Chinese way, for over a year.  She is regressing here.  She starts to panic when we take her into the bathroom.  She turns to jello, making it difficult for us to strip her bottom half down.  Once we do, she stiffens up and straightens her legs.  We have to pry them open to sit her on the toilet.  Now, once we do, she complies, does her business, and is thrilled by the praise and M&Ms.  We're just not sure why the sudden fear of the throne, especially given her willingness to go when seated.

Those were the E's.  Here are the Q's.  Beck and Penn had some amazing quotes this week!

The boys have asked a number of questions about their mei-mei.  She still has chubby baby feet.  When Brent noticed this and Beck picked up on it, he replied, "Well, little kids have fat feet because when they're in their mommy's belly, the mom eats lots of cake."  He was so matter-of-fact about it.  He was certain that was the cause.

Penn had deeper questions.  Please don't be taken aback by his wording.  Remember he is three.  He asked, "Will we die with her together?"  I explained that people die at different times, and he grew frustrated that I wasn't understanding what he was asking.  "No Mom, will Eh-va-wee be here (with us) until she dies?"  He wanted to make sure of her permanence. Beck chimed in on this occasion too, saying that if you drink coffee, you add six years to your life.  "Dad told me that. Dad drinks a lot of coffee, so he will live longer than us."  It was hilarious end to a serious inquiry.

He also questioned his role in our family.  When he was whining, I snatched him up and told him he was my baby. "I'm not a baby.  Eh-va-wee's the baby."  He said it sadly, not in a way like he wanted to be bigger.  I assured him, "You're my baby boy.  Everlee is my baby girl.  You will always be my baby, Penn."  His worried little eyes lit up.  It was a huge moment.  A few sentences and about twenty seconds, but a huge moment.  Our eyes locked the whole time.  My Penn.  So sensitive under that fearless, bold outer shell.    

Finally, Beck has been talking about super powers for months... how he is going to ask Santa to grant him some powers for Christmas.  He has far too many to list, but some are mosquito-repelling power for me, the ability to read minds and understand all languages (so he can know what E is saying and thinking,) and flying power.  He'd ask for it so we could fly to China sooner and pick her up and fly to California to visit Neve and Shep.  All this flying talk got him thinking.  Out of his imagination, the most curious, honest and adorable question came yesterday: "If I had fly power and I went through a cloud, would my body get turbulence?"  Yes, I guess it would.

Turbulence.  What a metaphor!

Buckle up, kids.  At times, this journey may be a bumpy ride.  But the destination is worth it.

The Too Easy Transition

I'm almost afraid to say it... to write it... but E's transition has been too easy.  She sleeps like a champ, out eats our boys, and isn't fussy.  She hasn't had a mourning period yet, maybe she never will.  In a phone check-up by our agency, we said we weren't trying to paint a pretty picture.  The picture is that pretty.  Brent came up with a cute tag line for this first week:  I'm not sugar coating it.  It's all sugar.

All of this new stimuli should be overwhelming her, but instead she feeds off of it.  She absorbs the new and energizes from it.  We were prepared for our lives and family outings to drastically change, but they haven't. Watch, as soon as I hit publish, poo will hit the fan.  She's fit right in... roughhousing with Daddy, entranced by the toy room overkill, crawling through blanket forts made by her brothers, and wanting Mommy more and more.  Dad is off duty.  His return to work on Monday didn't concern me at all.  Though he did call three times to check on me.  It has been so smooth.

Now, Penn has been a pistol.  That's a different story.  We expected him to react, but his emotions are inconsistent. And he must not have heard the word "No" all three weeks in Florida.  

I.ro.ny - noun -  Penn launching a nuclear bomb at Everlee when she touches his long lost favorite things but crying uncontrollably when she heads upstairs to take her nap.

He has had a hard time with the change.  Especially the first couple of days.  He wanted kisses when he saw us give her kisses.  He wanted carried often.  He tried to talk like a baby.  He lost his status in the family and would react too if it was a newborn from my belly.  I devoted my attention (thus no FB or blogging... or cleaning the casa for that matter) during her nap to Goochy.  He was particularly pumped about a train track we built that went under the coffee table.

We have seen improvement this week.  He is not competing for love anymore, is not asking to be carried, and talks like a 3-year-old.  The jealousy of her relationship with Beck also affects him.  He wants her to come to him and is constantly in her face offering hugs, kisses, and annoying songs.  She likes playing side by side with Penn.  Prefers him when playing, actually.  Until he oversteps her invisible boundary. Then comes pushing.  Thankfully, he does not push back. These exchanges are minimal.  Truly, I can not stress this enough, the transition has easier than anticipated.

The biggest changes I feel as a mom are the balance of attention and the burden of added laundry and dishes. She's so little, but with the drooling, we go through a number of outfits and changes of bedding.  And I've been far more intentional with my time.  I'm happy to do so.  That's it. Nothing taxing.  Nothing crazy.  I've taken all three to the supermarket, waterpark, aquarium, and a sit down lunch by myself.  It's been that easy.

I'm probably jinxing myself.

I'll take it while I have it.

       

Welcome to the Waldmans

Right at home.  Well, grandma's home.  She found the toy closet at Mattie and Papa's quickly and had a field day playing.  She was just happy to NOT be on that weird plane thingy.

Rather than wake up and drive home, which was our original plan, we decided to stay the day and another night since we arrived so late.  That way Everlee could meet the entire Waldman clan after work.  Seth, Nat, AJ, and Jax, Vanessa and Nate, and Chad and Tabitha all came over for "Jonnie sauce."  She devoured it.  I should've gotten a picture.

The cousins scrambled for toys, shared popcicles, and watched the "men" set off fireworks.  Every person in my in-laws' neighborhood probably dreads when the Waldmans are all home.  It's a guaranteed fireworks show.  They must see the parking lot of cars in the driveway and street and grab earplugs.  We have that cool of an extended family. Lucky me, I married into this amazing bunch!

  

Groundhog Day

It felt like the movie Groundhog Day.  250 tired passengers wearing the same clothes and trying this all over again. Everyone looked familiar and was understanding due to the day before.  We were all in the same boat.  That was a relief for this mama who only gets anxious in one type of situation:  When I feel that my children may bother others. Otherwise, I'm not too much of an up and down personality. I'm a steady line.  I did not feel anxious one bit.  People recognized each other in the check-in line and casually asked how hotels were.  How the kids were.  It felt comfortable.

Back through immigration, we waited at the gate.  Our names were called over the loud speaker and I quickly approached the desk thinking something was wrong.  They upgraded our seats as a thank you for Brent helping out. Goodness, we didn't expect that.  He was just doing his job, but boy were the larger, plush seats helpful on that long flight!  It allowed me to camp out on a blanket on the floor and allowed enough room for E to stretch out and actually fall asleep untouched at both her nap time and bedtime.  I'm sure everyone seated around us was thankful!  

Flights went off without a hitch and we arrived in Florida just after midnight.  There was no welcome committee to greet us.  It was too late and honestly, we just wanted to land and be a family.  That's all.  Jonnie (the greatest father-in-law on the planet!) picked us up at the curb in our own car so we'd have a carseat and off we went.  Everlee fought us on the seat for about a minute.  She's never been in one before.  I handed her a snack and she was content. These kids just travelled halfway around the world and were still pleasant!  Here's E waiting at Orlando's baggage claim.

And her citizenship in Newark was a simple handing over of her passport and a New York accent saying "You're good."  Our friends, the Fogartys, were on the Hong Kong-turned-groundhog flight with us, so we experienced the goods, the bads, and immigration for our girls together.  I was glad to be with them.  It's fuzzy, but Beck took this picture of our two new American citizens.

 

Easy Bake Version

So... the afore mentioned recipe must have been the Easy Bake version.  Saturday, August 3rd was certainly the longest day of our lives.  It was far more stressful, frustrating, and saddening then I could have imagined.

Our van ride went off without a hitch.  The border was easy.  We didn't get out of the van.  The border patrolman identified us by rolling down the windows.  We did a curtesy trunk pop, but no one blinked an eye at it's contents... Not that we were hiding anything.

We arrived at the Hong Kong International Airport in good spirits, met up with our friends, and checked in.  This airport was enormous.  The main terminal is four stories!  The gate was ions away.  Thankfully, we passed a Starbucks and it had vanilla chai!  Our day was headed for perfection!

Famous.  Last.  Thoughts.

As always, we declined the early family boarding and waited until the last second to get on.  I've never understood family boarding.  Do they think we want to be trapped any sooner on that flight with a toddler?!  Let them run some energy out!  The door shut and everyone was in their seats. And we sat.  An hour.  The pilot came on to explain.  The tow, the vehicle that pushes the plane back, was stuck on our wheel.  Once that issue was resolved, we got in line for takeoff.  There were a number of planes ahead of us.

Airbound, I felt a weight off my shoulders.  We had finally left China.  I wanted to go there and fall in love with the country that gave us a daughter, but I didn't.  I'm not a fan. I was very ready to get home.

Our seats were divided, and Everlee sat next to Daddy.  I was seated next to a lovely young Chinese couple who were headed to study at Carnegie Mellon and Ohio University. Small world.  I enjoyed chatting but really wanted to sleep, so when B needed to switch, I'd be rested.  None of that mattered, because what happened next changed the course of our trip.  Literally.  Emotionally and physically changed the course.

United did a good job at concealing what was happening at the back of that dreaded flight.  If you were more than four rows from the back, you'd have had no idea a woman was fighting for her life.  There was no yelling, no panic.  An announcement was made over the intercom, "If you are a medical professional, please make yourself known to the crew and proceed to the back of the aircraft."  Brent stood up and walked back.  He was the first on the scene.  A flight attendant had collapsed and was seizing.  Minutes long, not seconds.  No medical history of seizures.  Soon, two others arrived.  An anesthesiology resident and a foreign OBGYN.  The OB should have been the most knowledgable, but B said she wasn't on the same page.  Maybe the language barrier.  A dentist and a resident... sounds like the start of an intelligent joke.  But both were definitely qualified for basic, even advanced, life support.  They know the terminology, the drugs, heart rates, how to start IVs and such.  And that's what they did.  Started her on oxygen and put an IV in for fluids.  The plane was not equipped with the proper medications.  They had to let her ride the seizures out.  She had three.  Brent arrived in the middle of the first. She needed immediate medical attention.  Later he was informed she'd had a brain aneurism.

We were half an hour past Beijing.  There isn't much opportunity to land in a major city beyond Beijing when you're flying over the Arctic, so the pilot circled back. Medical emergency landing.

Here's the problem:  We had 14 hours worth of fuel.  You can't land with that kind of weight.  We had to waste time and dump it.  The crew told Brent they had 105,000 pounds of fuel they had to dump.  We were not on the ground until an hour + later.  Crucial minutes to her health. EMS boarded the plane and she was taken to a hospital. Later, a United employee gave Brent his email to inform him of her status.  The last we heard, she was in critical condition.

Our flight sat on the ground for four hours, the airline deciding it's next step.  China requires a visa for entry, which we had in our passports for the adoption, but since we originated in HK, not all passengers did.  Because of the visa issue, we could not de-board.  An announcement was made to inform us that the flight was trying to be rerouted to the west coast of the US where we could get connections home.  Great!  Pop that balloon though, because with all the hours on the ground, the crew was about to "time out."  At least, that's what I inferred.  Brent says it's because rewriting a flight plan takes more than we think. There were a number of factors, I'm sure.  The decision was made:  We were flying back to where we started.  Boo.

The entire plane was surprisingly calm and spirited during all of these tense hours.  E was a rockstar.  I held myself together, but once Beck was distracted, I sobbed looking out the window.  The thought of Mattie and Papa telling Penn we wouldn't be home broke my heart.

12 hours on a plane and not a single mile closer to home.

Defeated: How I felt.

They had buses ready when we landed to transport us back to the terminal.  United staff was on hand to give us our hotel arrangements and they informed us all checked luggage would stay on the plane.  They would make our connections while we slept and give them to us when we rechecked in.  Same flight, same passengers, same crew... would try again tomorrow.  At least we'd all look familiar. Let's think of the positives, right?!

We had to go through immigration.  Again.  Seriously.  By morning, we'd gone through Hong Kong immigration four times in 24 hours.

When all was said and done, it was 2 am.  We hadn't eaten dinner.  We only had two diapers left (because I'd only packed enough for the flight and the rest was checked,) and we'd been up since 4 am the day before.  Everlee only slept ONE hour all day.  We concluded that she wouldn't let her guard down.  She had never slept anywhere outside of a crib.  She's never fallen asleep in someone's arms, a stroller, or a car seat.  It was all new to her, so she wouldn't let herself fall asleep.  The positives: I had an extra outfit for E, my eye glasses, and a toothbrush in our backpack carry on.  We all used that one toothbrush.  Desperate times.  I reminded Brent NOT to drink my contacts that were floating in the hotel water cups.  (He did this in Canada in 2004 and I skiied the following 2 days in my bottlecaps.  I had to stop every 30 seconds to wipe the fog so I could see the run.  Dummy.  I'd even barricaded them with doilies and the glasses case on top.  He suggested we go to Walmart to get some new ones, not realizing his bride-to-be was legally blind and had to special order the prescription.) Yep.  Drank my contacts.  And I still married him.

There was no wireless at the hotel, so we could not inform anyone of what was going on.  Fun.

We reminded ourselves of the flight attendant and kept perspective.  No big deal in the grand scheme of life.







    

Recipe for the Longest Day of our Lives

My head needs to be on a pillow.

Recipe for the Longest Day of our Lives
- 4 a.m. local time, wake up.
- Drive 3 hours across the border by van to the Hong Kong airport.
- 10:25 a.m. Saturday (10:25 p.m. Friday night EST) takeoff and try to survive the 14 hour flight over the Arctic.
- 3 hour layover in Newark with immigration.
- 2 1/2 hour flight to Orlando and reunite with Penn.
- 7 hour drive home to South Carolina the next day.

Mix all travel with energy and mood swings of a two-year-old.  Enjoy.

Please pray for our sanity, patience, and stamina.

The madness begins in T minus 6 hours.

Maybes

Consulate appointment in the a.m. was seamless.  They did not allow cameras or phones, so we do not have pictures. Boo, because we looked cute too!

The meeting was a formality.  A final step in this lengthy process.  We stood, raised our right hand, and repeated after the foreign service officer on Everlee's behalf as an immigrant.  She was issued a maroon Chinese passport in her Chinese name in Chongqing.  Now, the US Consulate issues her a visa.  It is only for entry into the United States. Nothing else.  Without the visa, she can not fly home.  We will apply for her new passport once back.  One with a navy blue cover!  American!

Since this is a Hague adoption, she will be granted citizenship upon landing in our big, beautiful, blessed country.  I have no idea what immigration looks like, but that's where her citizenship is gained.  Maybe in an office... Maybe while standing in line...  Maybe a quick stamp of a paper...  Maybe during an hour long interview...  Who knows.  It is crazy to think that such a huge life change will happen somewhere deep within the bustling Newark airport with zero fanfare.  By the time we rush to make our connecting flight, Everlee will be a United States citizen.

Start waving your flags now.

I feel more patriotic at the thought of that walk toward waiting family in baggage claim than I did watching Brent deploy.  Ok, it's a tie.

And guaranteed, I'll be crying.

Maybe being caught up in the moment...  Maybe knowing her future would be vastly different otherwise...  Maybe from the reality that I am now a mother of three...  Maybe sheer relief the day long flight is over...

Whatever the reason, I'll be crying.