Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Spiraling

I've started two or three blog posts late at night after I've gotten Wynray back to sleep as he acclimates to our time zone. Now that we have a baby in the house, completing my thoughts seem like a luxury. I've had many inquiries about whether or not I'll continue to write about our journey now that Wynray is home. The answer is yes, though it just might be a bit tricky at first as we're all adjusting to life as a family of four, and getting ourselves back on this time zone.



We've now spent five nights at home. While Wynray isn't sleeping all night, he's at least sleeping during night time hours, as opposed to a 1am playtime that lasted until 3:30am for the first three nights at home. We're all really tired, but happy. Really really happy.

Kysa and Wynray are doing beautifully together. She thinks he's pretty hysterical despite the fact he has a superhuman grasp that can remove a handful of hair from your head in 2 seconds flat. Wynray simply thinks Kysa hung the moon, and is the most interesting creature on the planet. A nightly sibling bath time has proven to be a great bonding tool, and may be the cutest thing I've ever witnessed.


Wynray is amazing. The word amazing is generally over used, but in this case it's appropriate. He's so sweet, and simply lights up from the inside. He's strong and resilient, but at the same time he's allowing himself to begin to need us. He doesn't like it when we walk out of the room, and the baby boy who preferred to be put to bed alone with his bottle the first few nights with us now needs to be snuggled to sleep. I sometimes have to pinch myself that he's sitting in my kitchen, not his picture on my computer in my kitchen. Wynray is in my kitchen. Wynray is crawling down the hallway. Wynray is pulling my hair. Wynray is home. He's finally home.



We've survived the first pediatrician appointment and the collection of poop and drawing of blood. At some point there might be a blog post about how bitterly disappointed I was in our nurse and pediatrician and their (in)sensitivity to adoption. The doctor did say Wynray is the healthiest adopted child he's ever examined, but with the advice he gave, maybe he's only seen two adopted children in his career. "Crying it out" for a baby who has lost a birth parent to illness, and who has been in two care centers before nine months. Seriously? I'll get on that soap box another time...

I've also wanted to recap our time in Ethiopia post the trip to Awassa, but the time has just eluded me, or sleep is eluding me, or I just haven't figured out how to manage my time with two kids...

One thing I did want to highlight, is a big full circle moment. THE big full circle moment. Some of you might remember a post I wrote called Remembering the Visitor about a milestone in our decision to adopt. Basically, on Obama's first inauguration day I learned that I was loosing a pregnancy. I spent the day alone and in deep grief and reflection. It was on Obama's first inauguration day that I clearly made the decision to adopt (Fredrik wasn't too far behind). I understood then I didn't care how I became a mother, I just wanted to be one. If it hadn't been for the little visitor who came into our life for a brief but powerful period of time, I'm not sure we would have considered adoption. My prayer at that time became, "Please let me learn the lessons I'm suppose to learn so I can be a mother."

Fast-forward four years exactly, Fredrik, Wynray and I are sitting in a hotel in Addis Ababa alternating channels between Obama's 2nd inauguration and Ethiopia playing Zambia in the African Cup. I'm wondering where Aretha Franklin and her hat might be, and Fredrik is yelling about a penalty kick. Wynray is just happy to be there. Ethiopia had qualified for the first time in 31 years and the air in Ethiopia was electric. The crippling grief I had felt four years ago had been replaced with boundless joy, and the happiest baby I've ever met. No longer was I at home hiding under the covers, but I was in ETHIOPIA with our son. Our biological daughter, Kysa,was safe and sound back home and we were missing her like crazy. It was also Martin Luther King Day, and my heart felt swollen with the auspiciousness of the timing. My Facebook status update on that day read:

I can't stop thinking about this quote today: "I have a dream that one day little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers." MLK




I'm not sure if the first long and winding chapter of our adoption story could be tied up in a neater and more precise package. To all of my friends currently in the agonizing wait, please have faith and courage. Four years ago my heart was broken. I was broken. While part of me wanted to crawl under the covers and never come out, another part of me screamed to press on, to open my heart to possibility. The process of saying Yes! to adoption literally took four years to the day. It's been a wild ride. It has stalled and seemed in reverse at times. There were times I didn't think I could handle anymore waiting or heartache. This process has changed me in big huge and messy ways. It has broken me down and built me back up, and opened my eyes and heart to things that I cannot and will not forget.

Have faith my sweet waiting friends. Friends who are waiting for referrals, court dates, embassy appointments, or for life to just show you some clear direction. The timing is loopy, circuitous, frustrating, confusing, disheartening, and above all else...Divine.


"This seems to be the law of progress in everything we do; it moves along a spiral rather than a perpendicular; we seem to be actually going out of the way, and yet it turns out that we were really moving upward all the time." - Francis E. Willard





Trust me. It will be perfect. 


Photography credit: Danielle Anthony Photography





3 comments:

  1. Love this post Allison. Thanks for sharing your heart with us.
    As for the pediatrian, obviously he doesn't have much experience with adopted children. These children have suffered things in their life that NO child should have to. Our pediatrican specializes in international adoption and specifically told us that we have to do things a little differently than we may have done with our biological children (initally anyway). We had to help our adopted children feel safe & loved - in whatever way that may be. That means NOT letting them cry it out. I still can't believe your pediatrican told you that...ugggg!!

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  2. Thank you for such a positive post. One I need to read and re-read as we WAIT for our court date. Wynray is a gorgeous, beautiful, happy boy. Love seeing his face light up in his new forever family.

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