"You Mean Like On Vacay"

Ten points to who gets the title! So I never go anywhere. Very infrequently. So how my schedule is packed. I get a weekend getaway for July, August, and September. July, my mom and I are running away. We wanted to do the beach, but it's hard to get a weekend in the middle of the summer. We got a weekend at a resort in Williamsburg. I am praying for no rain, because the pool looks awesome! August is Women of Faith. This will be my fourth year and I'm so excited. My cousin Amanda is coming down again to go with us. The conference has a great line up and a world famous Chinese restaurant right around the corner. Then in September, I get to meet my friends who live in the computer. I'll be heading up to Pennsylvania to a Foster Care Mama Retreat. A bunch of the moms from my group are going and I get to meet them in real life. My amazing husband is amazing! Our five kids are kind of crazy. I'm so excited for all these events! Yay for vacations!

Surgery and School

Source
So our little Ladybug is going to get a GJ tube. I am equal parts super excited and freaking out. I'm excited because our little girl will be able to get and keep nutrition in her tiny body. She's lost 2 pounds since she's come to us. She's down to 23.2 pounds, she'll be three in two weeks. She's so bitty 18 month pants fit her. I cannot wait to see her plump up and be healthy. Now for the freaking out part. I have never dealt with any kids of medical need like this. The closest thing was Shane's leg braces he had for his first three months. But there was no tube, no chance of anything pulling out. I'm scared to death. I'm concerned that though they said she'll be able to eat and drink by mouth that if she does her puking will continue. She's OCD about her cup, I can't imagine taking it away from her. I am trying to picture my tiny stumbling princess with this sensitive device, oh and the unruly two year old tornado that lives here. She'll have to stay in the hospital overnight, and hopefully go home the next day. We've been told we'll get a crash course in tube feeding while we are there. I may have to take a camcorder to remember it all.

On the shallow upside, I can shop for cute GJ coverings and wraps. I think we're going to have to go with the wrap at first since it will keep her hands off of it and those of said tornado.

We are still being referred to Kennedy in Baltimore. They don't work with VA medicaid, but now that she's on our insurance they will cover her. The therapist up there are supposed to be able to help with cognitive training. Her throwing up stems from brain damage. It's a physiological disorder called Rumination. It's essentially what a cow does. Since there is nothing 'wrong' with her insides, they are hopeful that retraining her will make it stop. That is my dream. That the tube can come out and she can enjoy food and drink without pain. And without vomit.

There's also hope that the surgery will help control her seizures as well. She has Lennox-Gastout Syndrome, meaning her seizures are never the same "type". They are always changing. However, I have noticed and recorded a direct connection between seizure activity and throwing up. The worse her rumination is, the more likely she is to have a seizure or multiple seizure that day.

We went to school today. I have signed more papers for her preschool than I did buying a home. Seriously. There's a meeting for everything and you have to sign dozens of papers for each one. I love these ladies, I really think Carlee is going to benefit greatly from this school. She had her IEP today. We discussed her goals for the school year. They want her progressed three months from where she is now. That includes, drinking from a real cup, washing hands with assistance, tracking an object across the room, responding to her name when called, communicate (whether by sign, machine, button, or tablet, and playing and initiating peek-a-boo. It looks sad when I type that. She's nearly three and those are her goals for the year, when she'll be nearly four. If she can accomplish these goals, I would be over the moon. I think once she doesn't have to throw up every five minutes (literally) she'll be able to concentrate on other things, like waving hello. I am thinking positive. For the first few months she'll be going for one hour a week, with in home help as well. They have her progressing up to four days a week for 2.5 hours a day. We'll take it slow, though. For someone who hasn't dealt with the school system, I am pleasantly surprised. I'm also looking forward to meeting other special needs mothers of preschoolers.

As for my big boys. We're nearly done with this school year. We will be testing next week and sticking a fork in it. The new year will start after Carlee's surgery. Probably around the third week in July. I found a new website called Easy Peasey Homeschool. I can't imagine the amount of work that went into this website. And it's free!!!!! It has the days all planned out. The only thing we're not using is their math program. I love the program we have now. I've printed out all our legal stuff for the year and the first month of our year. I'm excited to get started. Much of the work can be done independently on the computer, so I'm looking forward to that as well.

Changing the Story?

Oh, my poor neglected blog! I'm here I promise. Things have been crazy with a capital C. Two adoptions finalized in four months, open adoption visitations, sick kids, Boy Scout end of year stuff, schooling (jeesh, we still haven't tested!) Oh so much. And VOMIT. All the time vomit. Our sweet princess vomits. All. The. Time. She has since she's been with us. We've tried everything under the sun. Finally the diagnosis came down as rumination. Yes, like what cows do. All day long. I've heard of a surgery. The doctors continued to say it was a psychological disorder and she needed a therapist. I no longer cared what it was, I just wanted it fixed. So along comes the magic words "adoption and insurance" funny, how those two words seemed to jump everybody into action. We went to the GI doctor yesterday and he got us an appointment with the surgeon. On Wednesday. If anyone has dealt with specialist you know that that's unheard of, to get an appointment that fast. The surgery I wanted only has a 50/50 shot of working. Since there's nothing 'broken' inside her, she's doing it herself, they don't want to do this hardcore surgery only for it to fail. So now we're looking at a GJ tube. As of yesterday, I didn't even know what a GJ tube was or that it existed.

So now we're being rushed into another whole world of special needs stuff. New people, new experiences, new tears, new struggles, and hopefully we'll come out the other side with our sanity in tact and less vomit on our clothes.

I was reading my devotional this morning. One Thousand Gifts and she had whispered to her bereaved brother in law "If I could just this story I would." (as he buried his second son). He said he wouldn't, that we don't always understand God's mystery. (And as our fearless small group leader says, If I could understand the Almighty God, that's not a God I want to follow) The brother said "Just that maybe...maybe you don't want too change the story, because you don't know what a different ending holds." So while, yes, of course, I wish her story didn't hold so much pain. I selfishly wish her story included her and I shopping for dresses and getting pedicures, for giggling late into the night, for watching sappy movies and crying, for watching her grow up and that it will mean something, these things I pray for and hope will still happen. I don't want to change her story.

This is who she is, whether by a divine plan or simply just the lack of care from her birth mother. I believe the idea that God is in control. I mean, I believe it deep in my heart. But I have a hard time believing He allowed this to happen to her, that He allowed her to suffer just for some future lessons. I believe this happened to her and we're going to grow and learn from it, but not that my all Loving Abba Father allowed her to be so very damaged at the hands of her mother. Just like I don't believe Matthew's siblings was destined to suffer their fates, just so we would have Matthew in our lives. Things happen and maybe there is a divine plan, I don't know. What I do know is that God is in control of this and of her and her future. He will hold us and teach us and we will be able to give her a better life than I dream possible.

Okay, so this blog went in a few directions. I don't edit or review. I just type. Words appear. :) I did find an upside to this diagnosis and surgery. There's a whole shopping arena of GJ tube coverings! Yes, shopping. Silly I know, but if she has to have an tube than the least I can do is make it pretty!

Face to Face

As a foster mother and adoptive mother, I have to be careful what I can share. I don't want to over share my children's story. It's their story. But it's my story too.

Last Monday Matthew's birth mother was sentenced. Her crimes were unimaginable. No horror movie could duplicate them. I decided to go to the sentencing. I wanted to be there. I wanted to hear. I wanted closure. I received the first two, not the third.

I was incredibly nervous. I pulled into the courts parking lot and there were already news crews. I kept my eyes down and went in. Through the metal detector, my shoes set off the alarm. The security lady was really nice. She told me to sit with the Commonwealth Attorney for awhile. I went in to the office. She was so very nice to me. She calmed me down and sent me upstairs to the courtroom.

I waited on the wood bench and decided I better get some tissues, so I went into the bathroom. When I came back, I saw head ladies from Social Services, they invited me to sit with them. The reporters sat on the other side. Social Workers ladies chatted away as if this was any other day of their lives. My stomach was twirling. I kept looking back every time the doors opened. I was waiting for my social worker or Matthew's birth father. I was desperate for someone I knew. I wish I had asked someone to come with me.

The last batch of people walked in. I recognized Matthew's birth grandmother. Her whole family came in and sat down right behind me. Literally right behind me. The judge came in, we all rose. They brought the prisoners in. This was the first time I had ever seen her face to face. She walked in, taller than I had imagined. She looked and smiled tearfully at her family. Since her mother was right behind me, she kept looking at me.

Then they all started talking. The lawyers, the psychologist, the Commonwealth. I heard things I wish I hadn't heard. It wasn't more than I have read over the last two years, but to hear it from the prosecutors point of view, oh it was heart wrenching. His birth mother sat there stoically while her horrors were put on display for all to hear. Then they mentioned the death of the other child. She cried then. She only cried for him, not a single tear for her daughter. The same went for her family behind me. No tears for the crime against an innocent child, only tears when she cried.

Then she spoke. "I have prepared a statement." She went to the front with a packet of papers. She talked and talked and talked. She jabbered on like a teenager who got caught cheating on a test. She sobbed. Her mother sobbed loudly behind me. Not for her granddaughter, only for her daughter. She then started talking about her son. "My son was only a month old when he was taken from me."...That was my son. My child that I've raised his entire life (minus those 35 days). I gripped my pen so hard it nearly snapped. For two years I've repressed thoughts about her. And that day, that day I heard her voice. I heard her sobs. I saw her face and tearful smile at her mother. I heard her excuses. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to literally throw up. I allowed myself to immerse the feelings. To know this evil being was who gave me my son. My beautiful was carried and delivered by her. Without her I wouldn't have him. My feeling competed. My stomach turned. She said "my parents are still trying to see their grandchild." Huh? What? That woman behind me was still wanting to see her grandson. My child. I heard her sob louder. I was overcome with a moment of empathy.

The Commonwealth spoke. Asking for life in prison. Describing why. How the child is sentenced to a life in her own prison, how she will never be what she could have been. I cried. My lovely boy escaped that house. The sentence was 1 to 10 years for abuse and 20 to life for malicious wounding. The judge described this child as a victim of Auschwitz. Then gave the 10 years for abuse and 20 for malicious wounding. The bare minimum. I just sat there. How could he claim this was the worse case he's ever tried. The saddest pictures he's ever seen and then give them the least amount possible. She looked back at her mother, smiled and walked out. It was over, just like that.

As we left the courtroom, I felt badly for the grandmother, for a moment. I knew it was a bad time, but when would I ever see her again. I asked to speak to her. She stared daggers at me. "If looks could kill" and said NO. Okay, then fine. I to this day don't believe she didn't know. She was in denial or something. There is no way she didn't know. I left knowing she will never see my boy if I can help it. She doesn't deserve it.

I realized why I was in that room. I'll have to explain this all to Matthew one day. Who she was, what she did, and I won't be able to say "why". There is no why. There can't possibly be a why. I hope the words will come to me to us when we need them. That he won't have anger and bitterness.

Also at the same time I was thinking about Carlee. She is locked in her own body. Matthew's birth mother will serve thirty years. She will be punished. However, Carlee's parents have freedom. They get to live their lives and even have more children. It bothered me so much. I don't know. I don't want anger to harbor in my heart. Especially for the sake of my children. They are so loved, but I have to tell them one day. I'm not sure where to go from here. At least I know my little loves are safe and sound and sleeping in their own beds. They will never have to worry about being hungry, neglected, left alone, or ignored. There are two women in this world who are without their children. Because of their actions, they are my son and daughter for their sakes and for my own, I will try to be at peace with it, with them. So one day I can say the words I need to, in love.

And Just Like That I Have A Daughter!

All seven kids.

Nearly fifteen months later, and a life time of waiting, the phone rang. I have a daughter. Carlee Michelle. I've always loved Carlee and it was very close to her first name, and Lee is my mother's middle name. Michelle is my best friends middle name and I couldn't be happier to name her after her. My family now officially has five children! Four amazing boys and a beautiful little girl.

Just the girls.

My new official crew.

Our Ladybug.