1001 Tears

She's So Lucky !

2010-06-09T13:31:00.001-07:00

People say it all the time: Evie is so lucky to have you. So lucky you chose to be her mom.

I hate it when people say that to me, by the way. What I hear is: Good for you to take in a child that has that -- fill in whatever special need the child happens to have--because no on else would.

I often wonder, does anyone ever say that to a birth-mom? A mom who chose to give birth to and parent a child? Especially a special needs child?

As much as I hate to hear it, I almost said it to a mom today.

And here's why.

We were sitting at the hospital waiting for Evie to be called for speech therapy. Since it's summer, both boys were with me. A mom walked in with not one, but two severely autistic boys. One was upset about a backpack zipper, the other was upset about wearing his shoes. Somehow they ended up on the floor, punching, hitting scratching, spitting.

It was ugly.

The poor mother jumped on top of her boys and pryed them apart. She didn't hurt them, but she was pretty physical. Four therapists came out and wrestled them down the hall into their therapy rooms.

I'm sure this was not the first time this mother had to separate her boys. And probably wouldn't be the last. When they were finally taken into their room for therapy, she relaxed her shoulders and smiled at my boys who happened, for once, to be sitting relatively still.
I saw the same mom on the way out. She was busy telling her boys how much she loved them and and guiding them safely through the parking lot.

She was a mom deep in the trenches. I can't imagine her life. But in the little that I saw her, I had developed a deep respect for her as a mother.

And those boys were lucky to have her. They were lucky she was patient, loving, and kind.

Maybe the next time when someone says it to me, I'll try to take it as a compliment. Maybe, just maybe, someone will say it when I'm having one of those great mom moments. And instead of being annoyed by the comment, I'll smile and just say thanks and say how lucky I am to have Evie, too.

Because, honestly, she's pretty special.

Saying Goodbye

2010-06-03T20:19:00.001-07:00

Schools out! I picked Joshua up from school today. And instead of being elated to finally be on summer break he came home and cried. Heartbreaking, hysterical, crying.

Today he said goodbye to his beloved 1st grade teacher. She won't be coming back to his school next year. So the reality is he will probably never see her again. And she wasn't just any teacher. She was one of those teachers that made kids excited to learn. She was part mom, part teacher, part mentor.

And it hit me today that he has spent more time with her than with me this year.

And now she's gone.

Joshua wasn't the only kid crying today. Teary eyed kids surrounded her to give her one last hug...one last goodbye..long after the final bell rang.

I want to protect my kids from heartache. I wish I could take away his sadness. But I know today is just the first of many, many heartaches.

Parenting is hard. Thank the Lord for fabulous teachers who stand beside us, even if they do end up moving.

When I tucked Joshua into bed tonight, he thanked God for his teacher. And through tears he prayed that his next teacher "would be good" and that she would "let them dance in the classroom."

The Blessing of Boys

2010-06-01T18:48:00.000-07:00

Caleb, my four year old, tells me at breakfast almost every single day, "Mama, you're sooooo pretty."

He holds my hand in the parking lot or even when we're just reading a book together.

He cuddles, says he loves me about a million times a day, and loves to just sit and talk.

But, boy oh boy, is he all boy. He likes to run, catch frogs, and on Sunday night we caught a snake. He's a play-till-you-got-dirt-in-your-teeth sort of boy. I absolutely cannot imagine not being a mom to my boys.

So I'm shocked when I hear that boys (even the ones with very minor special needs) are hard to place.

ASIA has a list of boys that they would love to share with you. These sweet little boys want forever families. They are just waiting for someone to step up and call them their son.

I have to tell you, I never expected to be the mom to boys. But thankfully God knew what he was doing when he blessed me with not one but two crazy, full of energy boys. Even if you never considered parenting a boy, pop over to ASIA's blog and look at these little sweeties. You never know, you might be surprised to find out your son is waiting for you in China.

Wanting Something Till It Hurts

2010-05-22T20:04:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wanted something that actually physically hurts?

I'm betting you can answer yes.

A referral...

An update...

Pictures...

PA, LOA, TA...

We've all be there. But what about the kids? Those that wait for their forever families.

They hurt.

They are waiting.

Maybe they are waiting for you.

Take a look. Maybe one of these sweet Hope Journey Kids is your child.

Quentin is 12 years old and is waiting for his Forever Family. He has repaired Tetrallogy of Fallot. He's outgoing, timid, likes to play games, likes football, and reading. He has a good memory and can express his opinions. He is friendly, enjoys learning about science and sharing his knowledge. Older boys are much harder to place. But this child has so much potential. If he'd nudging at your heart, call Marci at ASIA. She met him.

Lilah is beautiful! She's 7 years old and has softening Focus in Left Cerebral hemisphere. She's elegant and likes her teachers and caretakers and gets along well with other children. She studies seriously to learn children's songs, stories and counting, but her learning ability is a bit poorer than other children her age. She is loved by her nannies and they all hope that she has a wonderful future. She likes to play games and learn the same things as other children her age. She uses both her right and left hands to accomplish her daily living tasks.

Mark is a cutie pie! He's 6 and full of energy. You can tell by his picture he is one spunky little guy. His special need is hydrocephalus. He likes playing with other children at the playground and can take care of his daily living needs. He can sing, recite poems and draw. He can express his needs verbally and is a good student. He is sensible, always ready to help others and learns quickly. Seriously, call Marci, just to see this little guy's picture. He's full of life!

Peter is eight years old and has postoperative Imperforate Anus, Scars on abdomen, hearing deficit. He is outgoing, smart and bright. He enjoys drawing and reading and shares his happiness with others. He likes playing games with his peers, including playing ball and skipping rope. He greets his acquaintances with a sweet smile. He is able to count, write and draw as well as do art projects. His vocabulary isn't as big as his peers, because he just received hearing aids 4 years ago. He is still working on his language abilities.

Bo is eight years old. HIs special need is Postoperative Right Funicular Hydrocele, Mild Developmental Delay. He is an active, tender and shy boy. He doesn't like to talk in new environments, but people that are familiar with him know that he is clever, gifted in intelligence and drawing and treats his things respectfully.

Thomas is eight years old. He has Postoperative Pseudo-hermaphrodism of Male. He's bright, active, energetic and lovely. He is more extroverted than other kids, sometimes making funny faces to show his happiness. He is very curious and always eager for an adventure. Oh, boy, you can tell he is personality plus! Call ASIA and take a look at him. Super cute!

Henry is seven years old and has ear deformities. He is clever and lovely and gets along well with others, although he is not talkative. His speech was unclear until his operation and now his speech is progressing. He likes to go outside for walks led by his teachers and likes to play with other children on the playground. He has good self-care abilities and likes to help others as well.

Cherry is nine years old. This little girl looks like she'd love playing dress up! She is absolutely beautiful and has postoperative cleft lip and palate. She is outgoing and positive. She is very active, yet likes feminine things, like wearing dresses. She is well liked by all. She likes playing with other children on the playground and riding a bike. She is sensitive and helps with chores, such as pushing disabled children in wheelchairs. She knows a lot of Chinese characters and can recite poems, nursery rhymes, count numerals and dance.

Jeremy is four years old and has Developmental Delays. He has a strong personality and can be naughty at times. He is also quite lovely and shares his delicious treats with others. His expressive language skills are behind compared to his peers. He likes to dance and move to music, which is very sweet. He has entered special education to work on his language abilities.

Clive is six years old and has developmental delays. He is active and bright and has earned the nickname of Little Doctor because of his glasses and serious expressions. He likes singing and dancing and can move to the rhythm of the music. Clive has basic knowledge of numeral concepts, understands big and small, many and few and can answer simple questions. He can draw and can memories stories after they are read a few times. His teachers say that he is cute and obedient. He has made great progress in his language and thinking abilities.

Wade is seven years old and is deaf. He is a good student who always has a smile on his face. He is tenacious, careful, patient and has a strong personality. He is helpful and gets along with his peers, and is persistent and sensible. He did not initially have language upon entering the institute, but has since participated in special education and learned sign language.

Dani is six years old and is deaf. She looks so sad in her picture. This little girl desperately needs a forever family. Her nannies are very hopeful that someone will see her and step forward to call her their forever daughter. Although she came to the institute with no language, she has since become less timid and has learned some simple signs. She can take care of herself, run, jump, stand on one foot, take on and off her clothes and uses chopsticks well.

Chance is four years old and has a droopy eye lid, but HAS NORMAL VISION! This kiddo is seriously cute. Call Marci to check him out. He is a clever, extroverted boy who likes drawing, dancing, singing, playing with blocks and playing with other children. He communicates well and likes to ask questions. He is well liked by his teachers and classmates. He can jump, stand on one foot, recognize shapes and colors, big and small and knows numbers up to ten. He knows the days of the week and can tie his shoelaces.

Lilly is six years old and has repaired cleft lip and palate. As a cleft Mama her lip looks great. Seriously. If you want to talk about cleft kiddos and are interested in Lilly, send me an email. Cleft affected kids are near and dear to my heart.

Joel is five years old and has Postoperative CHD, Hypospadias. He is a talkative extrovert with a ready smile. He is warmhearted and likes to play with other children. He can express simple ideas and follow directions. He can jump, draw a person and stand on one foot. He likes to sing and play games and is very active.

Kerry is seven years old and has Esotropia (Crossed Eyes). He is outgoing and extroverted. He likes English, singing and dancing. He dances deftly and sings clearly and is a very artistic child. He can express his thoughts and ideas completely and is a good communicator. He can read simple children's songs and stories and understand the meaning. He is a quick learner and has a good memory. He can write his name and some simple characters. He also has good balance and physical ability.

Gavin is six years old and has club feet. He is polite, can communicate with others very well, is active and outgoing, bright and enthusiastic. He is talkative and extroverted and greets people politely when he meets them. He helps with housework and likes writing Chinese characters, drawing and reading. He is very involved in his classes and likes discussing the material with his peers. He is a very good student.

Jack is six years old and has Postoperative Cleft Lip/Palate. He is kind, friendly and gets along with other children, but is a bit shy. He is active and likes to help others. He can jump, fold paper airplanes and flowers and sing simple children's songs and poems.

Parker is 10 years old and is healthy. He is somewhat introverted, but likes to play football, read and paint. He can do addition and subtraction and knows some geometry. He attends a painting class and likes physical education. He can do all sorts of crafts. He lives in a foster family and can help do some chores and takes care of his younger sister.

Want to learn more about any of these kiddos or see the entire list. Call Marci (503-224-1860) She also awesome at email (marcisk@asiadopt.org)!

Orphan No More!

2010-05-21T13:15:00.000-07:00

My amazing, totally-on-the-ball, agency just came home from a Hope Journey. They met so many sweet kiddos, all who deserve and desperately want a family.

Now they are trying to get the word out about these sweethearts. I'm advocating for them. Which means, as my husband says, I cannot bring them all home I have to help find families for them! Because we currently have our hands full.

Seriously, it's dangerous to give me the password to a waiting child list. I could bring any of these kids home. Here's just a few. I promise I'll list more.

First up, and I love this kid already, is Warner. Maybe I'm drawn to him because he reminds me of my Joshua. I wish I could post Warner's picture. His smile will charm you. He's 8 years old and is super outgoing and loves to smile and sing. Marci, from ASIA, got to personally meet him. She says he's honest and has a great memory (wish I had a little of that!).

Next up, is Anna. She is gorgous! She's 7 and her only special need is developmental delays. She loves to wear beautiful clothes (a girl after my own heart!) and has great language skills. She has shown great improvement in the education center.

Shawn is a cutie-pie! Only three and a half years old his special need is arachnoid cyst of temporal/occipital lobes, postoperative intussception. He's described as active and smart. He's so cute and friendly everyone loves him. He likes to play with other kids and some of his favorite things are riding on the rocking horse and playing with balls and blocks. He can walk alone and feed himself. Whenever someone teases him he giggles happily.

Shelby is a doll! Only 2 1/2 she has Postoperative Hip Displasia and Arthrogryposis. Shelby likes to play games with the other children in the playroom and gets along well with them. She loves to be held and acts a bit spoiled with her caregivers. She is shy in front of strangers. She can imitate funny actions and facial expressions on the cartoons. Shelby's physical development is a bit behind because of her condition. She is able to walk, but has difficulty with balance. She can hold a glass to drink, hold a ball to play with and stack blocks.

Harold is 10 years old and has Hepatitis B. He's polite, yet shy when he meets new people. He likes to sing and dance and has learned to count, read poetry and express the meaning. He takes part in performances. He has learned to be independent in his daily needs.

CJ is a cute 7 year old boy with repaired cleft lip/palate and feet hexadactyly. He's clever, cute and restless. He had surgery to repair his special needs and received help articulating his speech. His intellectual ability is good and he is now able to speak clearly and express his feelings. He is a curious little boy and can take care of his daily living needs. He sometimes is quick to pout, but is easily comforted.

Michael is 5 years old and has sequelae of intracranial hemorrhage. OK you have to see this kids picture. His development seems to be normal compared to children his age. Michael is active, outgoing, adorable and gets along well with other children and his foster family. He has a strong body, and is able to skip, feed himself and take care of his daily living needs. He can express himself accurately with language, including making choices about his wants, such as "I want the eggs instead of the tomatoes."

Fabian is a healthy 9 year old boy. He is just waiting for someone to claim him as their forever son. At 7 years old he learned to play football. At 8 years old he learned gymnastics and handstands and could sing the song of the cartoons. At 9 years old he could do many crafts and addition and subtraction to 20. He likes to read books, draw and play football with other boys.

Want to learn more about these kids or see the entire list?
Contact Marci at ASIA at marcik@asiadopt.org.

Did I mention they are a totally awesome agency?

Not the "A" Word Again

2010-05-15T20:45:00.001-07:00

I want to be totally upfront: I love talking about adoption. I love following people on their adoption journey. I love, love, love watching all the miracles that happen in adoption. If you ask, God always shows up. Always. Read a few blogs (check out my favorites on the side) and you'll see some pretty awesome miracles. I also love the support of the adoption community.

Now with that said, when we were in Florida on Spring Break, Evie got a lot of attention. I wondered if people are curious about her because she's Chinese or because she has a cleft lip. Her grandpa says it's because she's so darn cute.

My kids love to swim, so we went to the pool every day. On our first day, an older woman jumped out of her chair and started talking about adoption. She had adopted several children and now was the proud grandma to several adopted kiddos. She had an amazing story, and honestly, I did enjoy hearing about it.

The next day, we went back to the pool, and she jumped out of her chair again and handed me something she'd printed out about parenting adopted kids. She went on to explain that she wanted to encourage me.

Her intentions were good.

Then the third day, she told me about a book she had worked on and wanted to send me. Again to encourage me about adoption. This is all fine and I really don't want to sound ungrateful.

But, and this is a big but, Evie is three years old. She is standing right there, and this well meaning lady keeps trying to encourage me about adoption. As if Evie is harder to parent than my two boys.

And to be fair, in many ways Evie is a little more challenging to parent. And I do look to other adoptive parents for guidance, especially well-seasoned parents. But these are not things I want my daughter to hear strangers talk about at the pool.

I am not naive enough to think that Evie's adoption will not have real, significant effects on her life. I get that. What I don't want to have happen is for adoption to be the only thing that defines her.

There is so, so, so much more to Evie.

By the fourth day, I avoided the pool lady.

I love adoption talk. But the pool lady taught me something. I want Evie to have the chance to swim at the pool without the "A" word coming up. And it's my job, as her mother, to protect her from those uncomfortable conversations and prying questions.

Oh, and I never got the book the pool lady promised she'd send me. But I do have a lot of pictures of Evie in the pool. I guess, in the end, she did end up just being one of the gang having fun splashing around.

Stepping Out in Faith

2010-04-28T10:22:00.001-07:00

Stepping Out in Faith

Posted using ShareThis
(this is my most recent post from www.thinkchristian.net)
Every parent has heard these whiny words: But I don’t want to.

The phrase usually flies out of my kids’ mouths when I’m asking them to do things like eat their vegetables, take a bath, or brush their teeth. I don’t ask them to do these things because I take great pleasure is seeing them uncomfortable, but rather because I love them and want them to be healthy.

The last time my four year old whined how much he didn’t want to eat his green beans, he added that mommies never have to do anything they don’t want to do. I tried not to laugh and reminded him about all the loads of laundry I wash, the dishes I scrub, and the toilets I clean. But I also couldn’t help but wonder how many times I’ve told God I didn’t want to do something because it took me too far out of my comfort zone.

I’ll be the first to admit it: I like to be comfortable. I don’t really like unexpected changes or challenges. When we traveled to China to adopt our daughter in August of 2009, I knew I was taking the biggest leap of faith in my life. While I was prepared for Evie to have cleft lip and palate and a repaired congenital heart disease, I was not ready for my new two year old daughter to be so delayed that she was more like a three month old baby.

While I loved Evie from the minute I saw her picture, and the love grew even more when I held her for the first time, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t completely devastated to learn that she didn’t know how to walk, how to play with toys, or even how to turn the page of a book. As I watched other parents receive their children, I couldn’t help but notice that their kids could all walk, would smile, and laugh. I found myself asking God why me? Why was my beautiful daughter completely shutdown? Why didn’t she look at us? Why couldn’t she walk? Why did she only weigh 15 pounds?

As I wallowed in my own self-pity, my husband told me something that I already knew: God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. Let him work. Give him control. Then he gently reminded me that we prayed for God to lead us to our daughter. It was no mistake that we were Evie’s parents. So we took our daughter home and settled into our new, sometimes uncomfortable, normal as a family of five.

Seven months, and many, many developmental therapy and speech seasons later, Evie is catching up to her peers. She is smart, spunky, and full of energy. It hasn’t always been easy, but stepping out of my comfort zone has allowed me to experience a new joy. I’m no longer going through the motions of my faith, but I get to experience and see God in a deep and profound way.

I don’t want to think about what I would have missed if I had simply said, “ I don’t want to do this. Adoption is too hard.”

Are you listening to God? Is he asking you to do something? What would happen if you simply trusted him and stepped out in faith?

It's Not Cute

2010-04-24T07:33:00.001-07:00

You know what is not cute? A little girl in super girly pink PJ's who stinks like skunk.

On Thursday night, I let our 10 year old dog, Portia, out before heading to bed. Before I shut the door she was sprayed by a skunk...right in the face. And right in our kitchen. Portia was foaming at the mouth, dancing around in circles, completely shocked. Poor girl.

It only took minutes before the smell was throughout the entire house. Joshua woke up and asked what had died. And at midnight Jonathan had to go to the store to get tomato juice, which by the way doesn't really work. We had to give Portia a tomato juice bath on the back deck and it was freezing and stinky and just really disgusting.

My poor hubby had meetings the next day. He asked his assistant to sniff him and she said he was OK to do a presentation. And Caleb's teacher assured me she could only smell me when she got really, really close.

Geesh! Don't you just love to ask people to smell you? And then honestly tell you if you stink?

OK I love my dog, but this about puts me over the edge. After spending almost all day cleaning and disinfecting it still smells in the house. It reminds me of someone who wore too much perfume, but you can still smell them long after they've left the room.

Five showers later, I wonder if you can still smell me after I leave the room. Guess I'll have to go ask my neighbor.

Friday Follow

2010-04-22T19:52:00.001-07:00

Welcome Friday Followers! I love getting to know bloggy friends. Thanks for stopping by!

I love, love, love these pictures. They are part of an Adoption Celebration photo shoot by Maas Photography in Wheaton, Illinois. If you're in the area, and are looking for a photographer, they are fabulous.

Enjoy! And have a Happy Friday!

Pray for Chrissie

2010-04-22T07:23:00.000-07:00

Bloggy friends and Prayer Warriors--

If you haven't heard about Chrissie please check out her mom's blog at http://allarepreciousinhissight.blogspot.com/

Chrissie just had open-heart surgery. And she's not doing well. She has technically died twice, they brought her back once. And the doctors aren't sure if they can get her back again. Check out the blog, and stand by this family in prayer. The blog is updated constantly. Just a few minutes ago they put her on a bypass machine.

They may be faced with making some impossible decision. Pray for them. Leave them a note of encouragement on their blog.

Talk to Me

2010-04-20T20:21:00.000-07:00

My life revolves around speech therapy. I have to hurry up and get Joshua out the door and on the bus, so I can hurry up and take Caleb to preschool, so I can hurry to speech therapy. This happens three times a week.

Then there's the homework we do every day. All we do is speech. And there are some days I am so fusterated, I wonder if it's working. Today Evie had a meltdown because I didn't know what she wanted. Even with her pointing and grunting, I still couldn't figure it out.

She's also babbling like a baby and is going through the "no, no, no" stage. If you've forgotten what that is it goes something like this:

Evie do you want to go to the park?
She answers: no, no, no

Evie do you want ice cream and cake for dinner?
She answers: no, no, no

Evie do you want to ride the pony?
She answers: no, no, no

OK, we don't really have a pony, but you get the point. No is the answer for everything.

It's cute. The first time.

Every word is work. Constant work. Consistent work. Fusterating work.

So today, she really surprised me at naptime.

She folded her hands, shut her eyes, and prayed pretty clearly, "God is good." All by herself!

It took three words out of a three year old to remind me just how much God has worked in her life. Evie has come so far in eight months. I'm pretty sure before Evie got ear tubes in Octobor she couldn't hear. And she didn't have a palate for the first two and a half years of her life. So she has made so much progress. I just need to be more patient.

God is good. And I have faith her will continue to be good in Evie's life.

Security In Red

2010-04-18T18:54:00.000-07:00

The wait to bring Evie home was possibly one of the most painful four months of my life. There were days I just cried for a child, my child, that was waiting for me. And the thing that stood in the way of me holding my baby girl was the paperwork. We received our referral in January and I did not get to hold Evie until August.

I remember taking the boys to see Up in May and there was an empty seat next to us. I cried through the whole movie. I cried for a little girl I'd never met but loved so much I couldn't explain it. I cried that she was not with us, not sitting next to her brothers eating popcorn and sipping lemonade. Then there were the days I'd cry when I was making lunches for two instead of three. We had an empty seat at the dinner table and an empty room full of little girl clothes and toys.

My heart actually hurt as I counted the days she waited in the orphanage for me. I prayed alot and honestly that's the only way I made it through. I did find peace knowing that Evie's Heavenly Father had her in his arms.

Then I saw a piece of artwork my friend Cassie Swierenga painted. It's called "Security in Red." My husband bought it for me on the spot. And my girl hung in my living room for months. During that time, I also wrote the book 1001 Tears, which is coming out in late 2010. Cassie is busy illustrating it. But after months of persuading, OK nagging, Cassie has finally agreed to sell prints of "Security in Red."

While the painting is beautiful, so is Cassie. She is the mom to four grown children, a grandma to one sweet baby girl, and a professional artist with some serious talent. I first met Cassie at a MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and was just struck by her creativity and devotion to her family. I am so excited to be working with her on our book.

If you are interested in purchasing a print of "Security in Red" please email me at muse25@juno.com. The options to order are:
print size: 12X24 16X32 24X48
On paper $51.84 $92.16 $206.16
shipping up to $20 up to $30 up to $50

On canvas $80.64 $143.36 $322.56
around $15 around $15 around $15

It is beautiful and made the wait just a little easier.

Help Bring Lucy Home!

2010-04-01T18:01:00.000-07:00

Good news!

A family stepped forward to adopt Lucy. They are still working on their paperwork, but according to ASIA they would love to bring her home.

This family will have significant medical costs in addition to adoption fees. ASIA is trying to raise $3000 to help this very special family. If you'd like to help, you can either send a check to ASIA (215 SW Hooker St. #100 Portland, OR 97201) with "Lucy" written in the memo, or call ASIA with your credit card and tell them it's for the "Lucy Appeal." The phone number is: 503-224-1860.

According to ASIA this sweet girl has a long road ahead of her. Some American doctors believe Lucy may need a heart and lung transplant. Please pray that her family finds strength, peace, and can quickly get their paperwork done.

More Spring Break Fun

2010-03-31T19:09:00.000-07:00

I know I'm Evie's mom, but can I just say this child is absolutely amazing. Six short months ago she could barely walk. She was 15 pounds (yes, 15 pounds at the age of 2 and a half). She was shutdown, she didn't talk, couldn't hear, could barely eat anything besides yogurt. She has never seen a pool (she was scared of the bathtub just 6 months ago), she's never seen sand, never seen the ocean. And just look at her now! Amazing!

Spring Break

2010-03-30T19:44:00.000-07:00

Evie has never seen a beach or a pool. I think she likes it.

Lucy's Day of Hope

2010-03-17T14:50:00.000-07:00

Thank you, thank you, thank you for standing by Lucy and calling out her name before our Heavenly Father. Thank you for caring for this child who most of us will never meet. Thank you for loving the precious orphans of China.

Lucy is already a miracle. That she has survived and is stable with her complex heart condition is only by the hand of God. That instead of letting her perish in an orphanage someone somewhere in China decided to get her paper ready for adoption. God is working. He will continue to work in her life.

We may never know how Lucy's life turns out. We may never see an answer to our day of prayer. But we can take comfort that God does hear our prayers. He loves Lucy more than we can imagine.

Like all of you, I pray for a family to step forward in faith. I pray that whatever Lucy's medical outcome is that this extraordinary family will find strength through Christ to love her, care for her, and be blessed by the joy of parenting this precious child.

Yes, today is a hopeful day! Thank you for praying!

Lucy's Day of Prayer

2010-03-15T13:38:00.000-07:00

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. –Psalms 139:13-14

The outcry for Lucy has been awesome. But ASIA is still looking for a family who already has their paperwork done to step forward and claim Lucy has their forever daughter.

Lucy’s best chance to survive is to come home and have lifesaving open-heart surgery with a mommy and daddy to support and care for her. Lucy has a long road ahead of her. She may even need a heart transplant.

Lucy needs a miracle.

I cannot stand by and do nothing for this child. Like so many others, though, we are not in a position to adopt again right now. But I can pray for her. I can pray for a family to step forward.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if we as a community could come together and cover Lucy with prayer for 24 hours? Wouldn’t it be amazing to see what God can do through this child?

Honestly, I don’t know how God will answer our prayers. I don’t know how Lucy’s life will end up. But what I do know is God will not turn his back on Lucy. She is not alone. While we may not understand it, her life has a purpose.

Will you join me on your knees in prayer for Lucy? Will you pray:

That a family will step forward and claim her as their daughter? Will you pray that once the family submits their letter of intent that China and the United States will expedite all their paperwork and they can hold Lucy in record time?

Will you pray for peace for this extraordinary family? Will you pray that even though Lucy has significant medical challenges ahead of her that they will find strength and support they never imagined.

Will you pray for Lucy? Pray she remains strong. Pray she can hold on for just a little while longer until her mommy and daddy find her.

The 24 hour prayer chain for Lucy will be on Thursday, March 18 starting at 6:00 am and will end on Friday at 6:00 am. If you can commit just one hour of your time, please list it in the comment section of the blog. Please list the hour you’ll be praying and where you’re from. I hope people all around the world will pray for Lucy.

Please help to get the word out by reposting this on your blog, yahoo groups, and facebook pages. Please have people link back to my blog (www.1001tears.blogspot.com) to comment, so we can see just how many people love and care for Lucy.

I think God has amazing things in store for this child. Please be a part of it.

I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.--John 14:18

Help Lucy

2010-03-11T06:32:00.000-08:00

Meet Lucy. She is 2.5 years old and has a very serious congenital heart disease. She needs medical care, or her life will be cut short. This little girl is waiting for a forever family AND lifesaving medical care. She is listed with ASIA, a wonderful agency in Portland, Oregon. ASIA is looking for a paperwork ready family to come forward to adopt Lucy. Please email Marci at marcisk@asiadopt.org if you are interested in adopting Lucy. You can read more about Lucy on ASIA's blog at asiahope.blogspot.com/. Evie was listed with ASIA and they were wonderful to work with. If you have any questions about the agency, please don't hesitate to contact me.

Fear

2010-03-10T19:11:00.000-08:00

This morning I flipped on Sesame Street for Evie. She started started screaming. It wasn't her usual tantrum, I wish I could tell you what I want scream, but a deep, fearful howl. I've heard this howl before--in China right before she completely shut down.

I immediately thought she was hurt. But she ran to the door in an absolute panic and screamed, "Bye, bye!" When I shook my head she then ran to the stairs and said, "Night, night." I took her back into the family room and she started to shake, her eyes darted back and forth, and she held her hands in tight fists and shook them.

I turned toward the TV. Elmo was singing. I flipped the TV off and Evie relaxed. I turned it back on and she started screaming again. I held her and told her that Elmo wasn't real. That we could turn him on and off. And that he would never, ever hurt her.

She eventually calmed down and we had to leave to pick up Caleb. On the way, I watched her in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were almost swollen shut. I wondered what her eyes had seen. What had happened to her in the orphanage that made her so scared of Elmo. Was she stuck in a crib with only Elmo as company? Did they play Sesame Street for her while she was in the hospital all alone recovering from open-heart surgery?

I wish she could tell me. I wish I knew her past. I wish I had been there for her.

By the time we got to school, she was happy again. As we walked to Caleb's classroom I noticed a new picture had been added in the Kindergarten hallway. A child had written Psalms 23. I couldn't help but focus on the words: "Yea, though I walk through the valley of shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For thou art with me."

Maybe I wasn't there, but she is a child of God. I have to trust that he protected her in the orphanage and will continue to. And when her old orphanage demons come out, he will help her heal.

I Love Amoxicilian

2010-02-22T20:31:00.000-08:00

It's off to school we go tomorrow!

Joshua took his third dose this morning. When we dropped Caleb off at preschool, I told Joshua to "look sicker" while we were there. He looked like he could have been at school, but I think his body needed a day of rest.

We drove all the way downtown to get Evie's ear drained. The ENT came in, took a look, and said her ears were clear. It took less than five minutes.

So tomorrow we're up early. The bus comes for Joshua at 7:51. Caleb, Evie, and I head to speech at 8:15. Then off to Little Lambs at 9:00 and MOPS at 9:15. I usually hate Tuesdays because it's such a hectic morning getting them all out of the house by 8:15, but I'm really looking forward to tomorrow.

We'll be back with the living!

Sick, Sick, Sick

2010-02-21T20:03:00.001-08:00

Three kids. Three different antibiotics. Three confirmed cases of strep throat.
It has not been fun.
Caleb has tested positive for strep twice in 15 days.
Evie was very grumpy, so I had her tested, too. And sure enough she's positive. She also has an ear full of gunk that has to get drained tomorrow. It only takes 30 seconds, but she has to wear a straight jacket--they call it a papoose, which sounds much nicer--to have it done.
And then there's Joshua. He woke up at 5:00 am complaining of a sore throat. By 10:00 am he was throwing up so much, Jonathan took him to the Urgent Care center. They finally got the vomiting under control, and he came home around 3:30.
Meanwhile, I washed everything. I mean everything. I filled pillowcases with Legos and threw them in the washer, bleached doorknobs, bathrooms, walls, tables, chairs, anything I could.
This is the first time since Evie has been home that's she's been really, truly sick. It's hard for Jonathan and me to juggle all three of them. But tomorrow, Jonathan heads to work. Which leaves just me. I will, as they say, be deep in the trenches of motherhood.

When Actions Speak Louder Than Words

2010-02-15T20:39:00.001-08:00

I'm talking about what to do when adults behave badly. Check out my new post at www.thinkchristian.net and join in on the conversation.

One Year Ago

2010-01-24T18:57:00.000-08:00

January 22 will always be an important date in my family. It was the day we accepted Evie's referral. Today she is a happy, healthy, full of life, into everything toddler.

Evie wasn't always the happy girl she is today. I believe when we accepted her referral her life and future were very fragile. To understand how far she has come you have to see where she was. The pictures below were her referral pictures. The one in the red shirt is still painful to look at. I think this was before her heart surgery. She was a very sick little girl. I post these not to make people feel sad or bad. I post them because I get so many emails from people who are considering adopting children with cleft lip and palate or congenital heart disease. It is hard to imagine a child who is malnourished and sick thriving a few short months later. Evie like so many other special needs babies, is no doubt, a miracle.

Why China?

2010-01-20T08:41:00.001-08:00

I'm talking about why we went to China at www.thinkchristian.net

Check it out over there and join in on the conversation!

Battle!

2010-01-05T21:09:00.000-08:00

Evie has discovered swords.

These were once banned in my house. As were guns, camouflage, and any other war-like toy. But when my oldest started school he was the only boy in the class without a water gun. So he built them out of paper, Lego's, blocks, and anything else he could get his hands on. So my husband decided that Joshua was getting a water gun and then he wouldn't be so obsessed with them.

He was right.

And over the years our arsenal has grown. We now have enough "weapons" for a party of 20. They are mostly Nerf, and I still insist if it looks real it can't come home with us. The boys battle every night. And Evie has started to join in. She whacks them on the head, it's ever so gently because she is so tiny, and they fall down and play dead.

Tonight this went on for hours. And they giggled and giggled and giggled.

Dare I say they are siblings who like (notice not LOVE) each other. Love and like are two different things. Like means they want to spend time with each other, they want to play with each other, they look forward to seeing each other.

When you bring a child home, in your head and heart they are part of the family. Period. But in reality, at least in my house, it has taken time for the kids to adjust and to see her as one of the gang.

She's getting there. She is slowly becoming one of "them."

She's a princess with two princes for brothers. She proudly showed me her Hello Kitty purse today. Inside was a Nerf bullet, a rubber snake, and a Star Wars Lego guy.

That's my girl!

Holding On

2009-11-29T20:41:00.000-08:00

"I wonder how bad she was," my dad asked, as he watched Evie cram another noodle into her mouth. "I'm sure she didn't have much longer to live."

I'd never actually thought about how close Evie must have been to death. But I'd never seen a baby with heart condition struggle to hold on to life. My dad had.

He was with me when I went into cardiac arrest. I was born with Transposition of the Great Veins and had open-heart surgery when I was 6 weeks old. It was my first and last surgery.

Evie was born with Tetralogy of Fallot. While not as complicated as Transposition, it can still be fatal if it's not surgically corrected. In the United States it's corrected shortly after birth. Evie lived with it for two years. She probably turned blue and had a hard time breathing. Combine that with her cleft lip and palate, her poor weight gain, and life in an orphanage, it's a miracle that she survived.

I will always wonder who held her when she had a Tet spell? Who got her knees up to her chest so the blood would start flowing again? Who decided this child with two significant special needs, should get life-saving surgery to correct her heart in hopes that a family would adopt her?

Someone was with her in those early fragile days. Someone had to love her. Without love and human contact, it's not unusual for sick babies to give up.

Evie fought. But she couldn't have done it alone. What angel did God place in that orphanage to care for her until we got there? I wonder if she's still there tending to the sickest, to the least of these? Is she helping other babies hold on for just a little bit longer until they can finally come home.

Boy + Girl = Bonding

2009-11-28T15:24:00.000-08:00

It could have been a very bad day.

The toilet backed up.

The dog got sick.

A carton of orange juice spilled all over the counter.

And this was all before 8:00 am.

It could have been a very, very bad day. I needed help and the only person around to help me was my four-year-old, Caleb.

"I'll help you, Mommy," he agreed. He played (gently) with Evie. He helped carry the rags I used to wipe up the OJ to the laundry room. And he managed to keep the dog out of all the messes. Then we flew out of the house to run our errands. Caleb pushed Evie (gently again, after I reminded him) through the store in her stroller. He helped load bags into the trunk. And he did it all without complaining. He was such a good boy, he got to out to McDonalds for lunch.

At McDonalds held Evie's hand as I balanced the trays in my arms. He even fed her french fries. Then he was off to play in the tubes. She has refused to even try to say his name. She has been calling him "boy." But when he popped his head out of one of the tubes, Evie looked up, waved, and yelled, "Love you, Kay-lub."

Sometimes the best times come out of the worst days.

Mommy Guilt

2009-11-12T15:54:00.000-08:00

Within 48 hours, Caleb my four-year-old got a new sister, said goodbye to his grandparents who live halfway across the United States, watched his best friend move from the house next door, and waved goodbye as his older brother got on the bus to go to school all day.

Caleb was stuck at home with me. No friends. No grandparents. No brother. Just me and Evie who cried and cried and had to go to countless doctor appointments. He went from being my baby to the middle child. He was dragged to all of Joshua's stuff and now all to Evie's appointments.

And I poured on the mommy guilt. It got better when Caleb's preschool started, but even after 3 months of being home I still have guilt about Caleb. Just this week, he sat through 4 different appointments. On Wednesdays he has to hurry up and go to school, so I can hurry up and get Evie to speech therapy. Then after school he has to hurry up and come home, so I can hurry up and get Evie to physical therapy.

I haven't figured out how to slow it down. Until he asked to watch Tom and Jerry--with Evie. I don't normally let my kids veg in front of the TV. But they were sitting on the couch as close as close could be and begged. Even Evie said, "E-V," and pointed to the screen.

As it started, Caleb laughed and laughed. And so did Evie. But not at the TV--she was laughing at her big brother, who, for a moment, slowed down with his sister. They are bonding, but it's slow. Maybe there are more Tom and Jerry episodes in our future. And maybe my mommy guilt will one day fade with the laughter.

Heaven Is the Face by Steven Curtis Chapman

2009-11-10T13:54:00.000-08:00

I heard this song by Steven Curtis Chapman on my way to Target yesterday. It was so moving, I couldn't go into the store. If you have time, take a listen. You can hear it here: http://www.onlylyrics.com/hits.php?grid=11&id=1036348

If not here are some of the lyrics:

Heaven Is The Face
Heaven is the face of a little girl
With dark brown eyes
That disappear when she smiles.
Heaven is the place
Where she calls my name
Says, “Daddy please come play with me for awhile.”

Chorus:

God, I know, it’s all of this and so much more,
But God, You know, that this is what I’m aching for.
God, you know, I just can’t see beyond the door.
So right now...

Heaven is the sound of her breathing deep,
Lying on my chest, falling fast asleep while I sing.
And Heaven is the weight of her in my arms,
Being there to keep her safe from harm while she dreams

But in my mind’s eye I can see a place
Where Your glory fills every empty space.
All the cancer is gone,
Every mouth is fed,

And there’s no one left in the orphans’ bed.
Every lonely heart finds their one true love,
And there’s no more goodbye,
And no more not enough,
And there’s no more enemy (no more).

Heaven is a sweet, maple syrup kiss
And a thousand other little things I miss with her gone.
Heaven is the place where she takes my hand
And leads me to You,
And we both run into Your arms.

I'm Tired

2009-11-06T21:46:00.000-08:00

I'm tired. I know every mom can say that. I know every mom is tired and spent at the end of the week.

But I'm really feeling it. Evie has been home for a little over two months. I have taken her to the doctor 27 times. Yes, 27 times. And this week has been, well, hard. There's no other way to say it.

I wasn't prepared for the sores on her tongue and around her mouth after surgery. I wasn't prepared for her to just stop eating and drinking. She is so tiny she needs every calorie she can get. I wasn't prepared to battle her every single day about her thumbs. She so desperately wants to pop them back in her mouth. But if she does, she could jam them right through her palate. Which would mean a repeat of this entire week.

But today, I got the biggest surprise of all. It was a beautiful day, so we met some friends at the park. Exactly one week to the hour post surgery, she climbed up to the top of the slide, smiled, and slid down by herself. I know that's a pretty typical thing for kids to do. But Evie isn't typical. She could barely climb stairs last week--her muscles just aren't developed.

As her mouth heals, I am seeing more confidence in her. She also said her first sentence today. She said, "Love you, Mom."

I may be exhausted, but that's enough to make me want to get up and do it all again tomorrow.

1:15: And We Wait

2009-10-31T11:12:00.000-07:00

Evie woke up and downed a cup of juice, which means we can go home.

But there's a really sick kid on the floor, so the doctor has to deal with him before she can come back to us and sign all the papers. The nurse hopes we're out of here by 3:00.

There is no rest in a hospital. Just when Evie falls asleep something or someone wakes her up. An MA to take her temp, a med student to ask questions that we've already answered for the doctor, the cleaning lady, the loud speaker paging docs, another kid crying. I'd like to bolt the door shut so my tired little girl can sleep and start to feel better.

Back at the Hospital With a Grumpy Girl

2009-10-31T09:01:00.000-07:00

She's grumpy and highly annoyed by the tubes and all the poking and prodding.

Evie is a stubborn girl and when she doesn't want to do something. That's it. She's not doing it. She absolutely does not want to drink out of the syringe anymore. But she can't get released until she drinks. So we are holding her head and squirting it down her throat. She did eat a few bites of pudding, too. So hopefully, it will be enough and we'll get to go home this afternoon.

The inside of her mouth looks pretty nasty. They cut the roof in two different places then stretched her skin and stitched it together. It will grow as she grows.

She's very tired. She only slept in three hour stretches. Jonathan slept on a reclining chair next to her crib. We are thankfully in a private room.

I think she will do much better at home. We can't wait to get the OK to hit the road, because there truly is no place like home.

Finally Some Sleep

2009-10-30T17:03:00.000-07:00

Deciding on a special needs adoption and actually living through the treatment and surgeries are two very different things. Evie is in much more pain than I thought. I am exhausted, stressed, worried, but glad it's over.

Honestly, I am not looking forward to 4 more surgeries in the next 5 to 10 years. I don't like to see her hooked up to monitors or in pain. But I am thankful for the care she is getting. I'm thankful that we live in a country where being born with a cleft really isn't that big of a deal. It can be fixed. She will live a full life. She will learn to talk.

Evie is finally in a deep sleep. The docs are hoping to release her tomorrow. We decided last week that Jonathan would be the one to spend the night with her and I'd go home. He does so much better on no sleep than I do.

So I am heading home before I'm too foggy and tired to drive. I'll be back tomorrow morning and hopefully all three of us will be home by dinner.

It Isn't Pretty

2009-10-30T13:16:00.001-07:00

Evie had trouble waking up.

She kicked, screamed, cried silent tears, and tried to rip her IV out.

She is mad because of the arm restraints.

She is mad because she has no idea where she is.

She is mad because the roof of her mouth is raw and cut in two different places.

She was so mad, confused, and in such pain she arched her back and we couldn't even hold her.

Then she got another dose of pain medication and after a while she calmed down and slept for two hours in my arms. She is drooling blood and her lips are cracked and raw, too.

But at 3:00, she looked up at me and smiled. Then waved bye-bye to the nurse and downed 2 cups of juice. She is sleeping peacefully in the crib now.

It's not pretty, but it's getting better.

10:15 am: Wake up Call

2009-10-30T08:18:00.000-07:00

They are waking her up now.

The hearing test went well. One ear is normal and the other is borderline normal. We were worried about hearing issues, but with the tubes everything should be resolved.

We hope to see and hold her within the hour.

It's 9:00 am and she finally has a palate

2009-10-30T07:05:00.000-07:00

The plastic surgeon just came out: He's done!!! She has a closed palate. She is a double thumb sucker, so she will be in arm restraints. He did say she will be very, very unhappy and sore.

Now they are starting the ear tubes and ABR hearing test. She likely has some hearing loss, but now we will know exactly how much she can hear. As I understand it, the ENT team will stimulate her eardrum and then measure her brain waves. The test should take an hour.

Thanks for all the emails. We could never get through this without support from friends and family!

Early Morning Car Problems

2009-10-30T05:02:00.001-07:00

The alarm sounded at 4:00 and we headed out the door at 4:45. Evie was sleepy, but talkative and all smiles. By 5:00 we knew something was terribly wrong with the minivan. Then engine felt like it was revving, then dying, the revving again. We got off 290 and headed back home. Thankfully we made it.

By 5:10 we had switched cars and were back on the road. We arrived at UIC at 5:45. Evie was still playful and happy. Then she got really happy (and a little tipsy) when the anesthesiologist gave her "happy medicine." It made her limbs floppy and eyes droopy.

Then we handed her off and watched her disappear into the OR.

Caleb's preschool teacher reminded me on Wednesday that when you hand over a child for surgery it's a reminder that that child isn't really yours. She's totally in God's hands.

So now we wait.

Genetic Testing

2009-10-23T21:22:00.000-07:00

The day after we accepted Evie's referral I googled cleft lip and palate with the cardiac disease Tetralogy of Fallot. 141,000 sites came up. All of them describing a chromosomal defect that the vast majority of people with both Tetralogy of Fallot and cleft lip have.

I slid my laptop in front of Jonathan. "Read it," I said. "She could have DiGeorge Syndrome. Heart defects we can handle. Cleft lip and palate we can do. But we cannot deal with this."

I reread the medical jargon over his shoulder: mental retardation, severe learning disabilities, hearing loss, compromised immune system, schizophrenia.

He slid my computer back to me and shrugged his shoulders. "We don't know she has it."

"We don't know that she doesn't have it."

"You're focusing on the worst case scenarios," he cautioned. "It also said she could simply need to take calcium supplements."

He was right. The scale and symptoms of DiGeorge Syndrome varied. Some kids who have it show no symptoms. But even still, I couldn't sleep that night.

The next morning was Sunday. I felt half sick. "I'm not sure I can parent this child," I cried. "I'm sure that's why she wasn't placed with the other families who reviewed her file. People get scared when they hear the word "syndrome."

Jonathan sighed. "Let's talk to the specialist at Children's who reviewed her file. Let's see what he says about DiGeorge."

That morning, I sent the International Adoption specialist from Children's Memorial Hospital an email asking if he thought our future daughter could have DiGeorge Syndrome. He emailed me back within 20 minutes and said there was a slim chance, but it could only mildly affect her. The truth was we wouldn't be able to have genetic testing to find out if she had it or not until she was home.

"Do we move on with her adoption?" Jonathan asked me.

I sighed. "This is really about faith."

Jonathan nodded. "It's totally out of our hands. And you can't worry about it."

"Then we move forward," I said. "And I'll do my best not to worry about it."

Fast forward to early October. Every doctor that saw Evie suggested she be tested for DiGeorge Syndrome. So two weeks ago, we met with a team of genetic counselors. They oohed and awed over her. Then measured her eyes, which were too close together, and her ears, which were too low. Then they drew five vials of blood.

And we waited.

"What if she has it," I asked Jonathan.

"So what?" he said. "We can deal with it."

I knew I could deal with it. Evie would still be Evie. I had no regrets about her adoption. Our family would be incomplete without her. I could handle DiGeorge Syndrome--because I wanted to be Evie's mother.

The next day the genetic counselor called with the test results.

Evie is not missing a part of her chromosome. She doesn't not have DiGeorge Syndrome. Both of her birth defects happened independently--not part of a syndrome.

Our adoption journey has been based on faith. We've been tested in ways that I never imagined. But what's harder for me to imagine is what would have happened had we said no to Evie because of what might have been.

It's just unthinkable.

Closed Doors

2009-10-21T19:43:00.000-07:00

People ask me all the time if we'll go back to China for another adoption. I try not to laugh. Because it's like asking a mother who has just given birth if she plans on getting pregnant again right away.

But I can't laugh at my sons when they ask. When we first started this process in 2008 my desire for my boys was to first have a little sister. I think a siblings are one of the greatest gifts you can give a child. But I also wanted them to learn about compassion for children in the world who live with much, much less than they do. Even still, I was a little taken aback when Joshua, my six year old, announced that there was still an empty seat in the minivan. Caleb, the four year old, also chimed in that we had an extra chair at the dinner table.

Almost once a week the boys ask if we can go back to China for one more little girl. They remind me that there are many, many more children who just need a mommy and daddy to love them.

We love Evie. And I will be forever grateful for our adoption experience. My family has been blessed beyond measure. But she has special needs. And demands a lot of attention and time. I want to give her that time and attention. I want Evie to grow and develop and catch up with her peers. I absolutely cannot image caring for another baby right now. I know people do it--and do it well--but I doubt that I could juggle it all.

So we told our boys at dinner that our family was complete. We have three beautiful, smart, amazing, (and mostly) healthy kiddos. We are thankful for every one of them.

So for now the door to adoption is closed. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that there is a faint light filtering in through the crack.

Beginning of Our History

2009-10-05T20:30:00.000-07:00

I spend every waking moment with Evie. We have tea parties, push around a shopping cart, rock, read books, and eat...all the time. She demands so much attention my house has never looked worse and it's hard to make a meal with Evie perched on my hip.

I'm not complaining. She needs the extra TLC. And I'm happy to give it to her. But today it really hit me, I can tell you this child's schedule minute by minute. I can tell you what she likes, how she likes you to gently tap her back (and if you don't do it right, she'll move your hand), I can tell you how much of a kiwi she ate and how many calories she consumed throughout the day. I know her favorite shoes, blanket, and bottle.

I can't tell you, however, when she started crawling, how much she weighed at birth, or when she first smiled. I don't know how she recovered, from open heart surgery without a mommy and daddy to rock and hold her. I wasn't there when she was left completely and utterly alone almost two years ago when she was abandoned.

I often wonder what did she do in the orphanage all day? Was she in her crib? Did she have friends? A special nanny? Did someone come running when she cried?

An orphanage is a complicated, sad place. There are too many kids and not enough help. So many kids are sick and Evie was one of them. With a very serious heart condition, that would have killed her, she was likely blue, sluggish, and very sick.

This much I know about Evie: She is not a mistake. She is a fighter and a survivor. I may not have been there physically in the beginning, but I was praying for my daughter I hadn't met yet.

Our history together started on August 15. I cannot change her past. I can help her mourn and move on with a family who loves and adores her. That's my job. Simply because I'm her mom.

I Am Her Real Mother

2009-09-22T20:21:00.000-07:00

"Is she your daughter?" a girl asked me at church. She wrinkled her forehead and studied Evie's crooked nose and jagged scar on her lip.

"Yes." I told her, offering no explanation.

"But," the girl continued still scanning Evie's face, "she doesn't look like you."

"What's different?" I pressed.

She was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't know, but something is different."

There's no denying it. Evie is different. But different doesn't have to be bad. Or scary. Or wrong. From the day we met Evie, we loved her because of her differences.

A lot of people have opinions about adoption. I've been asked how much we paid for Evie. If you're truly interested in adoption, I'll tell you the fees you pay for services--not for the child. Most people won't adopt, so I politely ask them how much they paid for their car or house. I've been ask if the government paid us to take in an orphan. People ask why her "real" mom didn't want her. Some wonder why we didn't adopt domestically or foster. After all there are needy children in the United States. I'd never argue with that. My answer is simple: A kid is a kid. They all need homes. So why not the United States, Russia, or Ethiopia. My daughter happened to be in China.

These questions aren't new and they won't ever go away. People in China were just as curious. Our guide told us that most Chinese citizens don't know adoption is an option. The government doesn't tell them there are hundreds of thousands of children waiting for families. We carried around a card that said in Chinese: We are from USA. We are adopting Ling Chen. We love her and Chinese culture.

Most people either hugged us or gave us a thumb's up. We heard "lucky baby" over and over again. Luck had nothing to do with it.

I believe God meant for Evie to be part of our family from the beginning of time. It is his perfect plan for an imperfect world.

So, yes, I am her real mother. And if you saw us together, there's no denying it.

August 18: Passports

2009-09-13T19:39:00.001-07:00

Once Evie started smiling, she never stopped. In just a few hours, she went from newborn to toddler. She cruised around our hotel room and even started babbling. We taught her sign-language, which she picked up in a matter of hours.

Part of the reason the adoption trip to China is two weeks is to complete paperwork and to allow enough time to process the child's passport. Most provinces can process a passport in a week--except Beijing. They usually take 10 days to process a passport, making the trip three weeks. I was already so homesick for my boys, I was physically ill. I absolutely couldn't imagine waiting another week for a passport.

Susan took us to the passport facility where we met five other American families adopting children. All of the children were from the same orphanage, although Evie didn't seem to recognize any of them. We all applied for passports at the same time and were all given receipts to pick up our passport in 10 days.

Susan shook her head, went back to the counter, and came back with an emergency passport receipt. Evie could receive her passport in five days. The others, expect one other family, did not receive emergency passports.

When I prayed for mercy for Evie, I was simply praying about shots and blood draws. But God, in all of his awesomeness, extended that mercy to emergency passports and smiles.

Evie--who probably hadn't ever laughed--now had a loud belly laugh that was absolutely contagious.

August 17: Mercy

2009-09-13T19:06:00.000-07:00

Evie was a little girl who desperately needed mercy.

I wondered if she'd ever smiled. Her glassy eyes stared past us, when her thumbs weren't stuck in her mouth, her arms dangled lifelessly at her side. She screamed whenever we put her down, so we weren't sure if she could walk. She was more like a newborn than a two year old.

Susan, our guide, had managed to talk the orphanage into giving us the report from Evie's surgeon that noted the extra vessels in her lungs. We went back to the Beijing clinic early the next morning. Susan handed the radiologist the report. This time, the radiologist smiled and signed the TB certificate. In doing so, she gave us the freedom to bring Evie home.

According to the US consulate, all orphans must have a medical exam before they immigrate into the United States. This includes getting all immunizations even if it means getting six or more at a time. Thankfully, Evie was mostly up to date. But she needed blood tests and the clinic didn't have any pediatric needles. So we had to lay her on a gurney, Jonathan held her head and arms, I held her legs, Susan had her hand on her stomach. Then a nurse jammed a large needle into her teeny tiny vein. Evie's glazed over eyes were suddenly filled with fear, terror, and anger.

Still sweaty and screaming from the blood draw, we took her to the next station to get her immunizations. Since her birth certificate said she was two years old, she was scheduled to receive her two year old shots. But at 16 pounds, Evie looked more like a 12 month baby. As the nurse lined up the needles, I prayed, "Lord have mercy on this child."

The nurse who was supposed to give her the shots, took one look at Evie and shook her head. "Not two," she said in broken English. "Won't do it." She took the needles, tossed them in the trash, signed the forms, and sent us on our way.

We took Evie back to the hotel and she fell asleep in Jonathan's arms.

Two hours later Evie woke up and smiled at us. It was the picture of mercy, beautiful, beautiful mercy.

August 16: Chest X-Rays

2009-09-07T19:36:00.001-07:00

Evie wouldn't lay down to sleep. The only thing we could compare her to was a dog who was too afraid to roll over and expose its chest. She slept sitting up on Jonathan's chest. Her body was tense and in the morning she ramped up the crying again. The only thing we could do was hold her tight. The note we got from the orphanage said she took one bottle of formula. When we took her to breakfast and she saw all the food, she threw her bottle and opened her little mouth like a bird. At 16 pounds, she was tiny, but ate more than we did combined.

Our next stop was the Beijing medical center. It was recently approved by the US consulate to give medical exams to orphans immigrating into the United States. Evie was one of the first patients. Since her skin test was positive for TB, she needed a chest X-ray. Once the x-ray was taken, we were shuffled into a little room and the radiologist showed us the film.

I immediately saw cloudy crisscross veins on her x-ray. We stood around the x-ray as our guide Susan, talked to the radiologist. Every once in a while, Susan would break out of Mandarin to tell us what was happening.

"The radiologist says she 95% sure Evie does not have TB," Susan told us. "But she won't sign the form."

They argued for another hour, pointing at each other, pointing at us, pointing at the baby who stared blankly into space. Still talking at breakneck speed, Susan called the orphanage. The radiologist talked to whoever was on the other line. They hung up and argued some more.
Nearly two hours went by. Then, suddenly, Susan led us out of the room and into a cab.

On the ride to the notary office, where we would sign papers that would legally complete the adoption, Susan explained that the orphanage knew Evie's x-ray would be cloudy. In fact, the surgeon who performed her open heart surgery, noted in a report that Evie had extra blood vessels, not TB. If we could find that report, the radiologist would sign the form.

We met four other families at the notary office. We all signed the papers together. What should have been an absolutely joyful day, we clouded in confusion and sadness. We once again got into the cab and went to the orphanage to pick up the report. We were not allowed inside, but we were met by an administrator outside the gates. Susan and the administrator started arguing.

Even though I couldn't understand what they were saying, I knew she didn't have the report. I stared at the orphanage. It was massive. We'd heard there were 600 children living there. But I'd double or triple that number.

In China's eyes, Evie had American parents. But according to the United States, if she didn't have a negative TB certificate, she could not enter the country. She was in fact, a child without a country.

I knew if Evie had to pass through the gates and go back into the orphanage, she would without a doubt, die.

August 15: Meeting Evie

2009-09-04T14:11:00.000-07:00

Some babies come from the hospital. Some babies come through revolving doors in hotel lobbies.

By 9:30 the next morning, we were waiting in the lobby to meet Evie. We weren't allowed to go to the orphanage because of fear of spreading Swine Flu. We also weren't allowed to meet her nanny because in the past nannies have contacted families for money. China is very careful about what may or may not be a bribe.

So we sat for an hour in a smoke-filled, bustling lobby waiting for our daughter. We watched business men, a wedding party, and countless bellboys pass through the revolving door. Each slowed down just a bit to have their temperature taken by the automatic scanners.

Evie was an hour late.

"We're not thinking about TB today," Jonathan reminded me.

I gulped. It was all I thought about. I was about to be handed a baby that I may have to hand back. But if I was truly meant to be her mom, I knew there had to be a miracle in store for this child.

Suddenly, a young woman can through the revolving door holding a baby. I knew in an instant it was Evie.

We jumped up, and the woman told Evie, "Mama," and pointed to me. She handed Evie to me. I'd never seen such fear in a child's eyes. She screamed, like she'd been kidnapped. I held her for the next 45 minutes and her heart broke into a million pieces. Everything this child had known was gone. Everything, whether is was good or bad, had changed.

Hours later, Evie stopped crying. Her face was blank, she stared at nothing, and her limbs were limp.

Evie had shutdown.

August 14: Taking Flight

2009-09-04T13:54:00.000-07:00

On August 14 we boarded a direct flight to Beijing China. It was 14 hours and neither of us slept. In less than 24 hours we'd meet our daughter for the first time. I had two major concerns. First, that we'd get quarantined once we got off the flight because we'd have an elevated temperature or someone near us would have a temperature. China had in the past quarantined entire flights because they were afraid of Swine Flu. And secondly, that Evie would be TB positive.

TB had been on my mind a lot. On July 1, the US passed a law that states no immigrant may enter the United States with TB. Unfortunately, adopted children were included under the law because they are not granted citizenship until they step foot on US soil, even though the adoption is completed in China. It also doesn't matter that children can rarely spread the disease. For the past few weeks, I'd been following a family's blog whose daughter did test positive for TB. They could either stay with her during the treatment, which lasts 6 to 9 months or they could leave her. They had to go home because of jobs and other children. It was heartbreaking. And it was my nightmare.

As the plane touched down in Beijing, I prayed that we wouldn't get quarantined and Evie would have a TB negative test.

We got off the plane and had our temperatures taken by security wearing surgical masks and were allowed to go. Our guide, Susan, meet us at baggage claim.

"I just found out your daughter tested positive for TB," she told us.

I dropped my bag. I hadn't even left the airport and I was already questioning God. Would you really bring us all this way to make us leave Evie behind? Or do you really intend for me to stay in China for six months or more?

I knew the answer to both questions was yes.

2009-08-13T20:24:00.000-07:00

I love this picture of Joshua. The motion. The energy. And the question: where will he land?

The picture also reminds me of faith. Along this journey, I've often felt like we were jumping off a cliff. Praying that we'd land on solid (and soft) ground. And that we'd quickly be able to get our footing.

Jumping off this dune took courage. It wasn't easy, but once he did it he knew he'd land safely. No one ever said faith was easy either. But we know that we're not alone. Evie came to us through many miracles. And without faith it would have been easy to walk away and say that it was too hard. Too painful. Too long.

Faith is what brought us to this point.

So tomorrow we jump.

Pray for a safe (and soft) landing.

Countdown to Change

2009-08-11T20:43:00.000-07:00

Joshua woke up three times last night crying. Caleb is being a little bit more hyper than usual. And the dog won't eat.

Change is brewing. Everyone can feel it.

There are two big suitcases sitting at the top of the stairs ready to come down. The boys are going to grandma's house on Thursday. I've tried to picture this goodbye a hundred times in my head. I'm trying to come up with a way to will myself not to cry. If I don't cry, maybe they won't either. I know they are safer here. I know they are in good hands. I know it's the right thing to do. I just have to do it.

Then on Friday, we leave for Beijing.

In all the furry of activity, the packing, the excitement and the nervousness, it really comes down to one thing. There's a little girl who is halfway across the world. And she only has three more nights without a mommy and daddy.

Three more nights. Then everything changes. For everyone. For our daughter.

Why 1001 Tears?

2009-08-10T20:44:00.000-07:00

Funny name for a blog, right?
It's the name of the book I'm working on about the adoption journey. The title came to me one day after viewing a little girl's file who needed a heart transplant. Of course, she was beautiful and deserved a family who could pour love and energy into her. But I knew her special need was more than my family could handle. Still, I couldn't sleep the night I saw her picture. At about 2:00 in the morning, I got up and just started writing and praying. I prayed that another mother was crying 1001 tears for this little girl and would bring her home.

The next week, her file was no longer on the agency list. She'd found her mommy and daddy.

1001 Tears. I think there were days when I cried that many for Evie. I cried that she wasn't with us, I cried that our paperwork took so long, I cried that someone would love her. And today, I cry tears of joy that she will be with us in a few short days.

Our Timeline to Evie

2009-08-10T20:42:00.000-07:00

Spring Break 08: Jonathan and I read Lost Daughter’s of China while in St. Thomas. Even though, we’re told that China is the hardest country to adopt from, we know that’s where our daughter is. We’re also told the wait for a healthy child is 3 to 5 years. We begin to pray about special needs that we think our family can handle. Out of a checklist of 50 different needs we choose three: heart condition, cleft lip, and palate.

May 18: I wake up suddenly with an overwhelming sense to submit our special needs check list. Now. I e-mail it an hour later to our first agency.

May 19: We start the paperwork process. It takes 8 months to complete.

December 26: We see a post information about a little girl named Fang Ling Chen who has tetrology of fallot and cleft lip and palate. She’s not with our agency and it’s not possible for children’s files to be transferred. We pray about this little girl and three days later we request to see her file.

December 29: We’re told two other families are ahead of us to see Fang Ling Chen’s file. One is writing a letter requesting to adopt her. I cry when I find out we waited too long.

Jan 16: After waiting three months, we receive approval from immigration to adopt a child under the age of two. Our paperwork is finally finished! That same day, the agency calls to say the other family’s insurance does not cover Fang Ling Chen’s special needs. And a private donor has paid for her open-heart surgery. She is doing well and is turning two in a week. They give her file to us to review. But because our paperwork is written for a child under the age of two, we are not approved to adopt her. But we look at her file anyway.

Jan 20: A doctor at Children’s believes Fang Ling Chen has a promising future. He suggests we speak to the top ranked plastic surgeon in the city—Dr. Cohen. Jonathan happens to know him personally.

Jan 22: We decide Fang Ling Chen could be our daughter. We will have to switch agencies and redo all our paperwork to be approved for an older child. Everyone says it’s impossible. We think she deserves a family as soon as possible, and cannot wait a year for us. However, we also decide if God opens doors we will walk through them. We submit a letter to China and officially ask to be Fang Ling Chen’s parents. China gives us three months to submit all our paperwork.

Jan 26: We being the impossible and frantically redo our home study and resubmit our paperwork to immigration. It takes us six weeks to make all the changes.

Jan 27: Fang Ling Chen’s birthday passes quietly. We’ve only known her a few days, but we pray that we’ll be able to celebrate her next one.

March 23: We receive our updated immigration approval. Our paperwork is almost done. I go to the Chinese consulate with Caleb to get all our documents authenticated. It’s the last step and we don’t have any extra days to spare in order to meet China’s deadline. What I don’t realize is that in order to get same day service, the documents must be presented to the counter by 11:00. After horrible traffic, getting lost, and going to the old consulate, I arrive at 10:30 and am handed number B265. They are calling B245. The security guard tells me there’s no way I’ll get to the counter on by 11, but I can leave my documents and have them mailed back to me if I give them a return envelope, which I don’t have. Plus, time is running out. Everything needs to be translated and if I don’t get these papers authenticated today, we will likely lose our referral.

The place is jammed packed; probably nearly 200 people are there. I find the only open seat and call my friend. I can tell Caleb and I are really bothering the lady I sat next too. She’s grumpy and Caleb kicks her several times on accident.

After talking to my friend, I pray, “I need a miracle. Now.” The grumpy lady sitting next to me leans over and says, “I’m number B248. Take my ticket. You’re next.”

April 10: Our paperwork is officially logged into China. Our wait beings for an official letter of acceptance. We’re told it could be over 100 days.

June 16: Day 67. We receive our letter of acceptance. The agency calls it a miracle. We now officially apply for Feng Ling Chen’s American visa with her American name. We choose Evangeline, because it means God’s Good news, and Lynne after my mom. We’ll call her Evie, which means life.

July 14: We get updated photos of Evie. Her cleft has been repaired. We realize that God saw it fit to give us a child with every special need we chose, he also saw it fit to have them surgically repaired before we even meet her. Now we don’t have to rush her to major surgery when she gets home, she can just ease into our family.

July 30: We receive our official travel invitation from China. We plan to leave on August 14 and meet her on August 16.