There's a little girl...in my neighborhood

Do you know the rest of this song?  If you do, then you know that we've been just a swingin' with our little Emma Hope for going on 11 years.  This little girl who is getting ready to turn 11 rocked our world--literally--around Thanksgiving of 2002.  We did the usual  Melton adoption shuffle of praying and paperchasing and waiting and waiting and waiting.  The SARS epidemic held us back. but finally, finally we were matched with a sweet little nugget, Wuo Chao Wei (little dancing bird), in  Anhui, China.  And we packed our bags and left her big sister in the loving arms of Mimi and Poppy and were on our way to claim her as our own.  Oh, we did not know that she would claim us first.



She staked her claim with many, many, much tears.  And a binky.  That girl must have cried for 2 weeks straight, except when she was in her mama's arms with said binky.  She was scared of her daddy (took her a while to figure out he was her best ally), and only mommy would do.  The part of our babies' stories that just tears me up is the part about the mommy.  There's a wound, a hole, that only God can fill, and thank you Lord for choosing me as your vessel.

This little spitfire made her way into our hearts with wails and laughter.  She's a firecracker, full of quickfire love and light and just as quick piss and vinegar (I'm not kidding).  She cannot hide her feelings.  One look at her lovely face and you know just what she is thinking.  She's got a will of steel, which I know will serve her well one day, but Lord help me in the meantime.

She's full of ideas--building Lego skyscrapers and filming epic movies with matchbox cars.  She prefers to spend her days in her hand me down camouflage pants from her uncles or dressed to the nines in fancy shoes and skirts.  She's the best kind of contradiction.

I try to inspire her to love learning, and she does, but on her own terms.  Did I mention Lord help me?

This girl who went from baby to middle in the family constellation this year is rallying.  She looks up to her big sister and imitates everything that 14 year old first born does.  She plays trains and dinosaurs and tractors with the baby boy and delights in every moment.  Her loyalty and spunk inspire me.

Happy birthday to my sweet Emma Hope.  You make every day full of adventure.  I never know where we are going to end up.  You light up my life.  I am forever in awe of you, my beautiful, willful girl.  I want to be like you when I grow up!

Love you to infinity (I win!),  Mommy

Happy birthday baby

Dear Levi,

Today you are 2 years old. Wow!  You are such a big boy. It's your second birthday, but your first one with us. You'll learn soon enough that I'm a bit of a wreck on my babies' birthdays. Your story has a sad beginning, and my heart aches for the woman who carried you inside of her and gave birth to you and eventually, gulp, abandoned you. One day when you're old enough to read this we'll have a heart to heart about that, but for now, here's your story.

You are meant to be, my beautiful boy. You were prayed for and longed for and celebrated for 6 long years while we waited for you. And you were worth the wait!

You love trucks and trains and dancing. You have the funniest attraction to red solo cups (which I'm praying does not remain true when you're in college!). You love throwing things, usually of the truck variety, into cups full of coffee or water or the occasional glass of wine. You're really fast, especially when a flight of steps is in your sight.

You are resilient, a fighter, having had to rely on yourself for survival when no baby should.  I'm pretty sure you had the nanny in your room wrapped around your precocious finger.  She sobbed when we met her and she handed you to me. She told me that you were the smartest boy in the whole orphanage and that you played nicely by yourself, a much-admired trait in an orphanage, and one we are endeavoring to transform.

You are solemn until you feel settled and watch out world, then you're a laughing bouncing busy boy. You have two big sisters whom you adore. They get the most laughs. And daddy. But I get the most snuggles, so it works for me.

You're the little prince in our family, and I fear it will always be so. You are good natured and inquisitive and you love to scratch things.  You used to sleep and suck your thumb, but now you're learning how to talk so we think it's a good trade.

You like to do yoga with me, especially riding on my back from plank to downward dog. You love to interrupt our practice when you hear Lenny Kravitz's "Believe" because it's definitely time for us to dance.

So happy birthday baby boy. This is the day we praise God for creating you. I promise I'll pull it together with a happy smile when you blow out your candles!!!

Love you to China and back, for reals!

Mommy

when love comes to town

guess why there are no new blog entries?
he's 21 months old...
the big sisters are very active...
i'm almost about to graduate from yoga teacher training...

hello...this is your 41 year old self reminding you that IT'S A LOT DIFFERENT THIS TIME AROUND.

you know how in your 20/30's you blink and your kids are in elementary school?  i've decided that is not going to happen this time.  my days are pretty much spent in the same room with the same toys with a very smart little boy reminding him that i'm his mama and i'm not going anywhere.  i think he's starting to get it.

the big girls were 5 months and 10 months at their adoption; little guy was 19 months.  we've been home about 7 weeks and finally, finally we are getting some traction.  he's smiling.  he's laughing.  he's hugging.  and it's amazing.  i've never worked so hard in my life.

what you do with an orphaned soul, what you do with anyone, is just get into their world.  speak their language.  play their way.  spend lots of time doing what they love to do.  here's what i've been doing:  stacking stackable cups any which-way.  racing cars any which-way.  saying ahh any which-way.  our boy is missing the muscle to be able to speak words (it's being repaired in July).  but oh my goodness does he speak.  expressive eyebrows.  lots of screeching.  he's making the cars say vroom,  vroom, vroom.  and he loves to dance.  and  he laughs.

resurrection life is happening right in front of us.  Levi and me and daddy and big sisters.  when loves come to town, you better catch that train.

China: A Retrospective

I had every intention of posting minute-by-minute musings as Mama and I journeyed through China to adopt our boy.  And as soon as I met Levi, those intentions went right out the window.  Because I'm 41 and I realized that these sweet moments of beginnings with babies are fleeting.  And also because getting on the internet in still-communist China is cumbersome.  So instead, here I am, feeling every one of my 41 years, jet lagged beyond words, and reunited with my beloved and Levi's adoring big sisters.  I think it is the best place to reflect on our adoption adventure.

My brain is a bit mushy and the moments of lucidity are short-lived at this point, but I promise to highlight the good, the bad, and the not-so-pretty happenings along our path in China.

Here's a little blurb about Beijing:  Tianamen Square is not written about in Chinese textbooks studied by schoolchildren.  The information that the Chinese people can access is severely limited by the government there.  The Great Wall is truly Great.  Hiking to the top of it, twice in my lifetime, is one of my favorite memories.  Doing it with my mom was thrilling.  I didn't really like the food in Beijing, even though I had a stern pre-trip talk with myself about  relishing the new flavors and cuisine.  I just couldn't stomach the smell of Chinese food for breakfast, but I also couldn't stomach the Western french fries either.  I stuck with croissants, strawberry jam, and the best black tea I've ever tasted.

Our guide, George, has a providential life story (well, we all do really, don't we?), and one of my favorite memories of the two days in China's capital is the time spent learning about him.  More about that later!

The best part of life in a bustling, 14 + million city?  We got an email from our adoption agency that our flight for Zhenzhou (the provincial capital of Henan where Levi lived) had to be moved up from traveling Monday evening to traveling Monday morning.  No explanation was given, but I trusted my instinct that we would be united with our babies on Monday afternoon...

The Beijing blitz portion of our trip was just what it was meant to be:  busy, informative, a settling in to the rhythm of life in China.

Dreaming

I spent the weekend on the sidelines of a soccer field in beautiful 70 degree Maryland spring weather.  I watched a lithe 13 year old athletic girl sprint, kick, laugh, play, enjoy life.  I chatted with other adoptive mothers about the lives of our children and how differently they could have turned out.  Our three pairs of eyes filled with tears as we talked about the month one spent in Columbia to bring home her 11 year old son.  He has been with his forever family for 9 months and is a straight-A student (just learned English 9 months ago--woah!).  And we commiserated together as another shared her adopted from Russia daughter's painful growth plate injury and how it kept her away from soccer in the fall and how she is feeling so much better now.

I sat in the sunshine and remembered the adoption travel conference call that I listened to earlier this week.  Our amazing adoption agency's founder, Josh with CCAI, reminded us that without action these waiting children (like our Levi) would live out their lives in an orphanage, with no treatment, no education, no real hope.  His cleft palate would likely remain untreated and he would be the equivalent of an "untouchable" in China.

So that's why I weep sometimes at my kids' birthday party celebrations.  It's the idea of what could have been and what isn't, not because of us but because God moved something in our hearts and gave us children in a way we would never have imagined.

Adoption is a gracious gift that extends in both directions...into their lives and hearts and into ours.  But I submit that the greatest blessing is this mama's life, sitting on a comfy couch surrounded by two beautiful black-haired, brown-eyed Asian beauties; and dreaming of the rambunctious, rowdy Asian boy that is coming our way.  xxxooo

Here we go...

The 10 day count down is on.  This blog is, let me lovingly warn you, going to be neglected until we get to China.  I am going off the grid to prepare for the trip.  No time for reflection--I just have to get 'er done.

Here's what I'm doing:  going to Target, taking care of a sick kiddo, preparing and freezing meals for the family, packing, back to Target, Bible study with my best girls, soccer tournament over the weekend, probably Target again, showing my mother-in-law the ropes, carpooling, finalizing packing, getting kids to birthday parties, homeschooling, taking it all in, loving every minute.  Must admit that I do have dreams of a pedicure somewhere about next Monday-ish.

So, y'all come back and read because in just a little while there are going to be some a-maz-ing stories to share.

It lights me up to think that Geng Hui Levi Melton somewhere across the world from us has absolutely no idea that we are getting ready to hold him close, love him dearly, treasure him forever.  Miss you baby boy.  Mommy's coming soon.

T-minus 2 weeks

So, a different style of blogging today to fit our current lifestyle:  lists!

Wonderful mother-in-law being dropped off by even more wonderful sister-in-law on St. Patrick's Day; this means that the home-schooled children stay in school while mom is away.  And that the husband can go to work.  And that life stays somewhat normal.  So grateful for my family-by-grace-that-I-married-into.

Airfare purchased; agenda in-China being finalized.  I have a generous and gracious Mama and Daddy who 1) travel with me, Mama; and 2) give the gift of travel, Daddy.  Grateful for my parents-who-love-God-and-share-His-goodness-with me.

Packing started; well, if a big huge pile in the middle of the nursery counts and yes it's a run on sentence because that's exactly how packing feels to me.  

Village enlisted; soccer carpools offered (and accepted, thank you Karlyn and Jean-Anne).  And a "just  tell me what you need me to do" Dana coming to our house on Monday.   Looking for a ride to the airport on 3/22, pick me up at 9:30?  I wish I were kidding, but I'm not.  

Gifts received; I am so not good at receiving.  Why do I feel guilty when people are really, really nice?  I am learning how to say thank you and just trust that you the giver know how much I mean it.  

Easter dresses for the big girls purchased.  I'm making surprise bags for them for each day that I will be gone.  For me or for them?  Both really!!

I-pad 3 for the trip???  Yeah, that's what he said.  Not happening.  Darn!

In the midst of my frantic, frenzied mind, I breathe and remember that it's not about the stuff or the lists or the to-do's.  It's about the baby.  

It's 11:49am in China right now.  I bet you are getting ready to have lunch, Geng Hui to be named Levi.  Eat up, son!  You will need your strength!  Mimi and I have big plans for you...I've got a backpack with your name all over it.  

Longing

We got updated pictures and stats for Qian Geng Hui--our Levi.  He's growing and walking and wants to run the report says.  He's ready for life in the Melton household I say.

We are waiting, waiting, waiting for our travel approval.  Anticipating that we will receive word next week (Lord help me, it could be the week after that); and typically families travel 2 weeks after approval.

There is so much to do.

I want to go right now.

Here's my prayer...Lord, help me to do what needs to be done while being present with the children who are here right now.  And if you could somehow give me divine intervention to be able to homeschool, meal plan, pack, baby prep, finish paperwork, cook, sleep, eat well, exercise, etc...that would be amazing.  I am trusting You, my God, to sift through the massive to do's and give me discernment to do the same.  I am trusting You, my God, to care for our little guy until we can get there.  I am trusting You, my God.

The Walking Wounded

We visited the Johns Hopkins Cleft Palate Clinic today to seek out medical advice for Levi’s cleft lip and palate.  It’s on the same floor as the Childhood Oncology Ward.  Perspective. 

We looked at before and after pictures of the many children that this doctor and his team have helped.  We talked about what Levi’s palate probably looks like (alveolar cleft).  Our teenager wanted to know what happens to his boogers.  And that’s when the doctor won us over.  He used the word “booger” in as many contexts as possible, boogers here, boogers there, boogers, boogers everywhere.  You must know that our whole family enjoys a good booger laugh…oh wait, here I go with the booger talk. 

What really happened was that we all laughed in the midst of a stressful conversation (think Steel Magnolias, “Laughter through tears, my favorite emotion.”).  Levi’s cleft palate is no minor thing, but it’s not that major either.  It’s going to be a tough month when he has surgery early this summer, but he GETS TO HAVE SURGERY THIS SUMMER.  This condition would very likely be left untreated in an orphanage in rural China.  Our boy has hope.  He has no idea what is heading into his life!

I wonder if one of the ways God is working in us through Levi’s story is in the wearing of the wound.  His is on the outside.  He doesn’t have a choice about that.  I wear my wounds on the inside.  Sometimes I imagine that I build a guard around these scars, covering over them with jokes or sarcasm or irritability.  We all need surgery to be whole.  We all need the Great Physician to come in and clean out the bad stuff and build up the good stuff and make it all into something beautiful.  He’s really good at that.

It strikes me that the beginning of Lent is a sweet moment to contemplate this wounded-ness that we all bear.  Just as Jesus set his face toward the cross, we can set our gaze toward the suffering that is a part of this life.  We can see the countenance of Christ in our boy’s lip and palate.  We can invite Him into our own pain, and into the healing that will come.  We can focus our sight firmly on Christ, “who is able to do infinitely more than we ever dared to ask or imagine.”  And we can wear our wounds, knowing that He makes beautiful things, beautiful things out of the dust of our lives.   

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OR7VOKQ0xJY

Paper Chasing

Paper-pregnant works for me.  I think I just might be in paper-labor right now!

The family room floor is my office, littered/organized with stacks of paper that must be wrangled with to bring home our son. 

I am notarized (thank goodness beloved’s administrative assistant is one); certified—no wise cracks here (by the county clerk to prove notary is who she says she is); and authenticated X 2 (Secretary of State and Department of State).  But wait, there’s more!  My beloved is walking the document into the Chinese Embassy for the greatest and final step…a piece of paper that is approved by the government that is caring for our precious boy. 

We dropped our regular home-school rhythm yesterday and embraced an impromptu field trip to Annapolis.  We stood in the very spot where George Washington addressed the 2^nd Continental Congress!  American History came alive!

I woke up with my beloved husband this morning to send him off to D.C. with the precious documents, packed him coffee and energy bars and kissed him out the door. 

I remembered that we are blessed to live in a part of the country where it is feasible to do all this certifying and authenticating and DC driving ourselves, unlike most other adoptive families.

So today, in the midst of paper-chasing hell (it’s my labor!), I am choosing to focus on the prize, the little life that exists in Zhoukou Welfare Institute today.  I will fold the mountain of laundry that I swear had babies of its own overnight.  I will savor the morning of learning at home with two lovely young ladies.  We will pray for Daniel Levi Melton.  And I’ll probably get started on that I-864 federal form that will be needed for the trip to China; I think our tax records for 2010 and 2011 are just over there in that pile…

This is how we roll in the land of paper-pregancies.  

Breaking down to break through

Pre-adoption breakdowns have become the norm in our once stable household.  We have teenager hormones running rampant (despite our denial), ten-ager tantrums, and mommy "we are bringing home a baby in 4 weeks" meltdowns to deal with.  Poor, poor Dan.

Bring on the tears, the not eating/eating too much, the waking at dawn, the lists, the packing, the teeth-grinding, the TMJ...I develop serious stress symptoms in the midst of adoptions.

Bring on the baby...most of all, bring on the baby.

Let him be loved tonight, let him be fed, maybe a quick cuddle?  Lord, let him know that we are coming.  Let him know that he is loved.  Watch over our precious boy, just as you watched over our precious girls.

And now to Him who is able to do infinitely more than we ever dared to ask or to imagine...to Him be the glory.

Oh boy!

It's happening!  We're adopting our little guy and we are...

excited

nervous

planning

sewing

nursery planning

googling weather in China during late March

praying

not sleeping

remembering that we need to rest because our world is going to be rocked

playing 

naming

knitting

trusting

thanking

praying some more

loving

blessing

painting

packing a care package

remembering that God is the author of this story, and that He makes beautiful things out of the dust of our lives

Thank you, Lord, for the story you are writing.  Thank you for a family of five.  Thank you for adoption. 

Fully Alive

I have been pregnant for four years.
I have been PREGNANT for FOUR YEARS.
I have been pregnant for four years.

(We are learning about good openers in our homeschool writing class.  That one’s called a shocker.)

Yes, you read it right, a four-year gestational period, similar to some kind of steroid-pumped elephant. 

We, and by we I mean I, began adopting again from China about four years ago.  So in adoption circles, once your paperwork has been turned in to the powers that be in China, a.k.a. the CCAA, you are paper pregnant. 

My beloved wasn’t, apparently, as enthralled with the idea of a third adoption as I.  He agreed, likely to keep me from assaulting him daily with my vision for abundant family life.  Did I mention he’s a pastor?  Or that I’m a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom who really likes fashion?  Unfortunately, I learned that there is NOT a tree in the backyard that grows money.  Bummer.

And then the process stalled.  Adoptions literally began to trickle out of China.  Wait times went from about one year to over 4 years.  And, my beloved rethought the idea.  Well, I rethought it too. 

So now we’re early 40’s instead of late 30’s.  We’ve got a teen (when did that happen?) and a self-proclaimed ten-ager in the house.  And I did something very dangerous and wonderful.  I perused our adoption agency’s website and stumbled across a “Waiting Child” section. 

Did you know there are literally hundreds of children with minor, correctable special needs that are paper-ready to be adopted?  No, me neither.  Did you know many are boys?  Did you know they are often abandoned in the first days of their precious lives? 

So I prayed.  I tried to shut up.  I entreated.  And the beloved said “Maybe.”  Really?  Maybe???

Wantonly, I asserted my womanly wiles…quite well, actually, and he agreed to fill out a medical needs checklist (step 1).  Four days later, we had a file to consider.  It didn’t feel quite right.  One month later, file two to consider.  It feels really right.

He’s beautiful, with soulful eyes and expressively-arched eyebrows.  And he’s a he, in this hormone-laden house that oozes femininity.  He’s perfect and needs care to repair cleft lip and palate.  He is wooing me.  It’s the eyes, I tell you.

“How are you doing with this?” I ask my beloved.  We, and by we I mean he, are taking some days to pray and wait and be quiet and sure.  “Well,” he responds, “I can see it.  Feels good.  And then, I kind of feel like, (arms lifted, head shaking, shrill tone) AGGGHH.  AGGGHH.  AGGGHH."

So really, isn’t that what parenting or life or anything worth having is?  It feels good, and then AGGGHH.  It’s the sweet, sloppy puppy kisses (feels good)/I just stepped in dog &&$$ in our front yard (AGGGHH).  It’s a family fun night watching Kung Fu Panda 2—good flick by the way (feels good)/three nights in a row of the ten-ager howling at 3a.m. because she doesn’t feel safe (AGGGHH).  And don’t even get me started on the “I don’t feel safe” line of attack for sleeping in the parents’ room. 

Perhaps the prayer and quiet and the AGGGHH is where the unfettered abandonment of a life well lived is birthed.  Cultivate stillness.  Practice prayer.  Be quiet.  And then buckle your seatbelt!  Here it comes...life in all of its wild, unpredictable glory.

Here’s to praying and waiting and being quiet and sure.  And AGGGHHdoption.

“The glory of God is man/woman fully alive.”  Irenaeus