Tuesday, July 21, 2009

39 and holding







Yesterday was my birthday. Each year, that particular day has met with increasing anxiety and sadness as the likelihood of me becoming a mother seemed to be slipping away. I always took an informal inventory of what had been accomplished in this life and what I had not achieved. Years of detours, infertility, custody changes, dead ends in adoption, all culiminating in God placing me in the perfect country with the perfect child for our family. Looking back, I can see His plan, His preparation of me and our family, but in the moment it hurt and it hurt bad.






I turned 39 yesterday and had the most delicious day of feeding and bathing and changing and playing and singing with T. I took some photos in the front yard of him in a chair that was my 74 year old mother's as an infant. I breathed in fresh air and fresh hope that God had indeed not forgotten me or punished me or hated me as I so long ago had convinced myself.






Dave - wonderful saint that he is - brought home a gift at lunch time. He handed me a bag and said, "just another Willow Tree - I had no inspiration". I opened it and around the Willow Tree figurine of a mother and child hung a mother's ring on a ribbon. He gets me and it and the pain and the years of sadness and the culmination in the most beautiful difficult thing I have ever taken on.



The tag with the Willow Tree said it all:



Child of my Heart



Child of the world,



Into my heart you came -



Bringing sun into my life,



Making family our name.





I am a new person - I approach 40 with a different outlook. I am a mom.



Peace

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Small Town America















We have this great pharmacy on mainstreet (which happens to instead be named Church St.) called Woodard's where you can still get a fresh limeade or lemonade and a coffee cup packed to overflowing with ice cream (considered 1 scoop) is 60 cents. For 1.28 today, Dave got strawberry, I got butter pecan and Teamir got a cone to suck on with tiny traces of ice cream we put on it. What a neat thing - is small town America optimal for him long term? We don't know and discuss it frequently, but today it was all good. The other photo is in our yard - he tends to be a happy little guy.


Life is achieving balance and I love the little guy asleep in the room next to ours. I know the love does not always come so easily. I am not sure how or why is has for me. Low expectations? Eeyore syndrome? Waiting so long for my first child? How easy he is most of the time? How happy he seems? I don't question - I thank God for it and pray for those who have had a different or more challenging road. My road up until last spring was very twisted and broken but once we locked in with Ethiopia and Gladney our journey for whatever reason was blessedly smooth. We met Teamir's great aunt 4 weeks ago today. Last night I had a moment while feeding him and watching his tiny hands trace mine where I thought of the connectness I shared with every other woman who has held my son and given him nourishment. It was a cosmic moment that brought me to tears. There is a photo frame in his room with pictures of his great aunt, his caregiver and me - other women have loved him and that is okay. I wish it didn't come with so many losses. I am tired and rambling. Have a good night.


Peace

Friday, July 17, 2009

When the U.S. Embassy names your kid.

I have alluded to the fact that so much that was important to me prior to our trip - BE (before Ethiopia) or BT (before Teamir) - no longer carries quite the importance. I can't look at much of anything the same way anymore. I feel nauseous watching platinum wedding shows, catch myself lamenting our lack of vacation this year and resolving that future funds will be going to bringing a sibling home and some humanitarian causes and not so much basking on a far away beach. I have become the water witch in our household, frustrated with people who think water is an infinite resource and knowing the lack of it causes famine after famine not only in Teamir's country, but state of origin. I find myself sobbing at Michael Jackson's Man in the Mirror video as much of the famine footage is not too far from where Teamir was brought into this world and that the famine issues continue and didn't go away when people stopped wearing their USA for Africa shirts. My heart has been touched. I am not asking for accolades nor am I sitting in an ivory tower all of a sudden. I am sure the pendulum will balance itself a bit.

Naming Teamir was such a huge issue for me - I couldn't decide - sort of the "this may be the only time I ever bestow a name on a child and it must be significant and have meaning". I knew we would retain part of his birth name. The human part of me was wishing for a cool birth name - something with an Abe in it or maybe Solomon or Jonas or just cool! Teamir's birth name has meaning but is a bear to sound out phonetically. It sounds more like Tah-amer - with a tongue roll on the end. People try Teemer, Tee MEER. It means "miracle" and without exaggeration, his medical history and social history confirms that he is indeed a miracle. He could have become one of those faces in the Michael Jackson video easily. He even briefly lost his birthname, but another relative knew it when interviewed for his social history so there was no way I was going to mess with that. It would slide snugly in the middle where no one would ever see it.

I digress. We toyed with many names - missionary names like Hudson (Hudson Taylor), Elliott (Jim Elliott), family names like Will and Henry, Biblical names like Asher. We arrived at Gabriel one Saturday afternoon. And so it was done - or so we thought. Gabriel Teamir - and throw in an Archer for a really great reserve wine I discovered called Gabriel Archer.

When we traveled, I was bowled over by everything. Our trip was a comedy of errors. We are pretty low maintenance people but created a lot of incountry stress by our spontaneous trip to Teamir's area of birth - this is a long complicated story and one that is hard to convey, but suffice it to say our intentions were innocent and we are sorry for creating more work for an already overworked incountry staff. I love Gladney. After that trip where we heard Teamir's name chirped several times and were asked by complete strangers if we were aware of the meaning of his name, Gabriel took a sudden backseat and nevermind about Archer.

When you go to the embassy and also purchase your child's airline ticket, everything will be under their first name and your husband's first and last name (not sure what happens with singles). Our ticket said Teamir David. The first week home I had to answer a lot as to why we not addressing Teamir as Gabriel already. I felt guilty (especially with regard to one of my very best friends who had gotten something personalized for him - she gets it though). I made all kinds of excuses knowing more and more that the likelihood of transitioning was becoming less and less. Add to that the fact that I always dreamed of naming a little one after their father. This also falls in line with the typical naming practice of a given name and then the father's given name. David means beloved. I never thought in a million years I would relinquish the importance of naming my child. But his first mother and his future gov't with the help of God gave him a name more perfect than I could ever have bestowed. So Teamir (Tommer - our english butchering) David it is - or TD as in T.D. Jakes.

Peace

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Two weeks post Ethiopia







I am sitting here in the quiet, listening to the light snoring of a little boy napping in his pack and play dressed in pastel seersucker with a delicately embroidered doggie on the front - for a second week in a row he was an absolute "hit" at church. He looks absolutely precious, but not particularly more precious than when in a lavender butterfly shirt, a pink sleeper or in the arms of Travis Norwood wearing a tired flannel shirt, ruffled girl's shorts and a onesie that matched neither. Somehow all the foo foo doodads and duds I just had to have for Teamir mean less and less and yet God continues to bless me with what was the desire of my heart. Drawers full of brand new and gently used nice little boy's clothes, a stroller and high chair that match, a plaster hand print set.


I am tired. This has been a wondrous and weary two weeks. Jet lag led to huge teen birthday bash led to 3 days of bedridden stomach flu led to Teamir having strep led to me getting a cold. Teamir had us fooled into thinking he sleeps through the night but not so much at this point and 4 days post return Dave's 13 year old slid into 2 weeks of visitation here. I am "verge of tears" exhausted...sick of being sick...wanting to have the energy to hit the ground running with Teamir. I catch myself saying this is what I yearned for so long and it is rushing by already and I don't know how to record mental snapshots. Add that to the fact that I have so much to record for Teamir from the trip but life is getting in the way and if I lose Ethiopia Teamir will lose it, too. Then there is the touch of post adoption depression. Do I think I have an actual DX? No, but I have built up to this forever and it is over and yet just begun.


Teamir is doing very well. He is standing and almost crawling. He is full of smiles and for a tyke who has had strep and an ear infection and prior to that impetigo, not to mention all of the losses of his soul, he is so happy and so jolly.

Must go - sleeping boy is awake and mommy must get him.
Peace










Monday, July 6, 2009

Settling in


Teamir is a joy. He has the greatest smile and laugh. He is busy busy busy. I am not sure I anticipated the on the go nature of a little one who has had his world limited by a foot brace. I can only imagine how this must have constrained his mobility. He is making up for lost time as we grant him a tad of freedom while waiting for an orthopedic appointment. We have been home a week today. In that time, Dave has gone back to work and fought a nasty tummy bug. We have hosted 5 families for R's annual birthday bash on the 4th and I have gotten the nasty tummy bug which I am still working through as I lay here going on my 25th hour (I did get up a couple of times). Teamir knows us to be his more and more each day. I am still learning his cries and fusses and would do anything for him when he whimpers and claps his hands at the same time.
We have not transitioned to his newly given name yet and I am not sure if or when we will. Each person must do what they feel best for their child but having been in Ethiopia and hearing caregivers coo his name, not to mention having many people asking if we are aware of the meaning (miracle), transitioning him to Gabriel has become less of a priority. He is a miracle - he is our Teamir. I have had to answer to many people who have inquired when or how we will change over or even if...I almost feel guilty. I am at a loss when it comes to blogging. Not sure what new direction to take because everything has built up to the day we would bring him home. Anyway - I am sad that Ethiopia is a memory for now and look toward the next trip there whether to expand our family or help in some way or take Teamir back. I still follow everyone's journey but am still processing.
Peace