Living Sacrifice

This past fall, I started feeling a stirring in my soul. I felt unsettled. Something was missing or maybe I was missing something. I started dreaming about my days living and working in China. My mind and my soul then went further back and I remembered the desires I had for my life as a teenager and young adult. I started contemplating then on my personal spiritual growth in the past few years. I can feel and see that God has constantly been pruning me to be a better mother. To love more. To sacrifice more. And I realized that motherhood....motherhood has been my calling. Before I ever dreamed of being a world traveler, I dreamed of being a mother. When I became a mother, I honestly wasn't great at it. I got really irritated at my kids, I resented them sometimes when I felt like they were sucking the life out of me, and I starting experiencing heightened depression and anxiety. But God kept teaching me, changing me, challenging me, and healing me.  It's becoming more natural to put myself and my desires aside for my children. It's been surprising to experience increased joy with increased sacrifice.

This past fall, when I started aching for more, I knew it had to do with my calling of motherhood. I started tentatively and nervously approaching God: "Adoption again? Are you sure?" Because, you know, it's expensive, and Mark's going to think I've lost my marbles, and our house is small and we don't even have a mini van. But my heart kept aching. I kept thinking, "God, if a boy such-and-such age with such-and-such special need becomes available, I'm not going to be able to say no to him." 

So then one morning, I saw there were some new children listed on our old agency's Facebook page. AND THERE HE WAS. A boy. Such-and-such age with such-and-such special need. Out loud, I cried, "No! No! No! Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!" because I KNEW I was going to have to have to tell Mark! I'd have to admit I wanted to do it again and he was going to tell me I was crazy. And HE DID...at first. But then we had several days of talking, and talking, and more talking, and asking questions, and answering questions, and praying, and crying (me), and more talking. And then we both agreed..."Yep, boy of such-and-such age, with such-and-such special need...he's ours." 

And then, in one instant, an unknown face becomes so much more. More than a gender. More than an age. More than a special need. He becomes our son. And I wonder why God would give ME such an incredible calling. Being a mother means being a living sacrifice. And I've been learning to give more and more. And to my new son, I say...All I have is yours. My heart, my energy, my time, my everything - it's yours. And already, I love you.

Here he is. Isn't he a love? He's 2 1/2 and he has a medical condition that will take up a whole blog post on it's own, so more on that later. (We don't have a name for him yet, but I will call him XT on this blog until we do.)

Remembering

One year ago, I took Camden to the park to take pictures of him wearing his Big Brother shirt holding Luyana's picture. I remember the ecstatic feeling I had that day, we had finally locked her file and had been officially matched with her. It had taken several emotional months to get to that point. Today, a year later, I took Camden and Luyana to that same park. I happened to have my camera with me, so I promised to make the kids cookies if they'd allow me to take some photos in the same spots. (It worked!)  Sometimes I look at her and still can't believe she's here. WOW. How amazing to look back and remember God's faithfulness and His hand in this journey!!

YeYe

There's been something unsettled in the pit of my stomach since we visited Lulu's orphanage. When we were there in December, several nannies came to say goodbye to Lu. They'd scoop her up and swoon away in Mandarin while she arched away from them with a look that said, "Do I know you?". Her eyes would dart back and forth between them and Mark and I. Her expression never really changed during the several hours we were there. She didn't seem happy or sad or scared or anything. Emotionless. I've been worried about this. Did she connect to anyone there? Did anyone cherish her and love her and know her the way she was supposed to be? Even if it was just for a few minutes a day?

When we were home, I'd show Lu pictures and video from the orphanage and she'd point out herself only. I'd point to nannies and other children and ask in Mandarin and English, "Zhe shi shui? Who is this?" No response. She'd point back to herself in the photo and say her Chinese name. 2 1/2 years and she can't even tell me who they are? It didn't seem right.

This past Saturday I decided to give it another shot. I opened the picture files on my computer and called Lulu over. She climbed up on my lap and started looking intently at  the one nanny that is pictured most in the photos....."YEYE!!!" She cried, very excitedly. My mind started turning...yeye can mean grandma in Chinese...I remembered that they called some of the nannies grandma. "This is Yeye?" I asked her. She beamed and I showed her more of the same woman. "Yeye! Yeye!" I was blinking back tears and I pulled up a video. At first Lulu is with some other nannies in the video and then Yeye comes over and Lulu practically jumps off the couch, "Yeye come!!!"  

Mark then came over and said to Lu, "Do you love Yeye?" She nodded yes emphatically with a huge smile on her face. At this point, its all I can do to keep myself from curling up on the floor and sobbing. She was loved and she loved. And maybe she was only loved for an hour a day, but I just needed to know that someone, before us, realized her worth.

It took me about 3 minutes to upload all the pictures of Yeye and send them off to be printed. Yeye is framed in Lu's bedroom and Lu has a little book with photos of Yeye in it that she can carry around. I wish so much that Yeye had come to say goodbye to Lu; I don't know why she didn't and I probably won't ever know why.

The first couple of months were such a hard adjustment for all of us. Luyana in particular, of course. Was she grieving Yeye? Was it too hard for her to look at those pictures at first? Her little mind couldn't yet sort it out, I'm sure. I'm so glad now we can bring the memory of Yeye into our home and cherish it. THANK YOU YEYE, wherever you are, thank you for loving my daughter.

Lulu, 22 months old, and Yeye

Lulu, almost 2 years old, and Yeye playing outside

 

 Yeye helping Lulu cut her birthday cake

Yeye and Lulu, one month before she joined our family

Lulu it is

So I really don't like nicknames. There have been several times in my life when someone has introduced themselves like this: "My name is Tony, but everybody calls me T-Bone." Nope. Never. Never, ever will I call you that. Me and your mom will be the only ones to call you Tony and I'm good with that.

We've been calling our daughter by her full name, but it's just not flying for many reasons. Here's one of them.

Phone conversation with a SPEECH AND LANGUAGE PATHOLOGIST:

SLP: How do you pronounce your daughter's name?
Me: Lu...yah...nuh
SLP: Lu...nanna?
Me: No...LU.........YAH......NUH
SLP: Nu...nan?
ME: LU.......YAH......NUH
SLP: Well, I'm not even going to try because I'll never be able to say that.
Me (in my head of course):...Ummm, seriously??

I can totally understand not being able to read it but so many people can't even repeat it after I tell them how to pronounce it. It really boggles my mind; I don't think it's that crazy of a name. So I've been telling Mark we need to settle on a nickname so that when people give me that look, I can say, "You can just call her T-Bone (or whatever)."

So pre-adoption, we called her Lulu, but it never stuck once we got her. Randomly a few days ago, I said, "Lulu, you want some cereal?" The girl lit up, smiled, and pointed to herself and said, "Lulu". I didn't think much of it.  Several hours later we were at the grocery store and she starts smiling at me, patted her little chest and said, "Lulu!" And today every time I called her Luyana, she corrected me, "No," (pats chest) "Lulu". So, Lulu it is. The girl has an opinion and I like that.

4 Months Ago

4 months ago today we were doing this:

WHO IS THAT? That's not MY child. I barely recognize her in these photos.

 

Before we met Luyana, we had these descriptions of her personality:

 

1. Gentle

*Actually, this is one of the first words we taught her. While we were in China, she bit me and pinched me. When she'd hand something to you, she'd throw it. When you handed her something, she'd snatch it. She bangs things, throws things, eats things. I don't think gentle is the way I'd describe her.

 

2. Easy-going

*Yes, this one is true. She takes things in stride. She can miss naps and not be too affected by it (unlike another certain child of mine). She accepts changes and different environments with more ease than I had expected.

 

3. Gets along well with other children

*Also true, she and Camden get along very well for their ages. They play all day together. She doesn't seek out other kids to play with in other social situations, but she does not bully or aggravate others.

 

4. Likes group activities with other children

*Ok, maybe that was true before. But not so much now - maybe these types of activities are too reminiscent of her past. During library story time, she only wants to sit on my lap and not participate. She refuses to go into childcare at church, again I'm assuming because of the above reason.

 

5. Quiet

*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

 

6. Afraid of strangers

*Nope. Hugs strangers. LOUDLY Yells "hello" to strangers in the grocery store. So that's something we're working on. Boundaries!

 

SO MY GIRL, how would her mother describe her? After only 4 months of knowing her, I feel that I know an insane amount more about her than the orphanage that cared for her for 2 1/2 years. This is how I'd describe her:

 

1. She is so so so adorably girly. Loves her 'baby', purses, chapstick, hair bows (which she calls "piaoliangs" which means pretty in Chinese), dresses, fingernail polish, lotion, makeup, etc., etc., etc. 

 

Gotta love the pink hard hat!! 

  With this photo I envision many selfies in her future.

2. She is a lefty!

 

3. She is crazy smart. She is picking up English so fast. She watches how we do something once and copies it and remembers it. One day Mark's mom was over cutting his hair. As she was using the scissors, Luyana stood in front of her and stared with the "the look". "The look", which means, "I see what you're doing, I'm going to remember it, and when I get the chance, I will do it too". I made a mental note to gather up all the scissors in the house and lock them in a high cupboard.

 

 

4. She is determined and confident. If she is going to do something, she is going to do something. Even if I'm loudly saying, "Luyana, no, stop, no, NO, NO!", she still does it. In fact, it inspires her to do it faster so she can get it done before I stop her. While this is annoying now, I know this is a great quality and one she will need in the future with any physical, social, and emotional challenges she faces.

 

5. She is helpful. She gets our shoes for us when its time to go. She loves helping me cook and clean. If she finds something that is Camden's, she runs to bring it to him. Her face fills with pride when she does something like this and you shower her with thanks and praise.

 

This girl, she is not what we expected by the descriptions we had of her. She is MORE, better. And we are still getting to know her, still learning about her, every day. (Just last week she bent her thumb all the way back, like at the joint in a way thumbs aren't supposed to bend and we were like, "How did we not notice that before?!"). Some days are really hard. Some days I wonder if I can really do this. Some weeks I barely drag myself through the motions because adoption is just difficult and draining and confusing. But she is so worth it all of that. God really did some maneuvering to get this girl here and in THIS family, so I know this is how it supposed to be. She has a ridiculous amount of potential and I am bursting with hope for her future.

 



What Redemption, this parenting love

We have a very set routine for naps and bedtime with our children. One little thing off the routine and Luyana notices big time. A few days ago I was about to rock her for her nap and she kept saying "baby, baby, baby". This is not part of the routine, so I was very interested to see what she would do. I let her down and she went and got her doll, put her in the doll crib, covered it with a blanket and then climbed back into my lap. Then, while still looking at the doll, she said and used sign language to say the word "sad". I wanted to start bawling. Does she think the baby is sad all alone in the crib? Does she somehow see herself in that baby?

Tonight, she again put the baby in the crib, covered her up, but then panicked. She started crying and frantically searching for something (this is not like her at all). Mark called me in to help figure it out. I found the doll's bottle and Luyana lit up. I put the bottle in the bed with the baby and she lost it again, sobbing. Mark and I just looked at each other like, "What is happening here?" I handed her the baby and the bottle and she fed her baby while Mark fed her a real bottle and rocked her to sleep. All the while, I could hear her whimpering on and off. Then I heard her cry out "mommy, mommy!" And my heart broke. How will we reconcile this sadness? Was she even crying for me? Or was it for someone else?

The past few weeks with Luyana has been emotional and HARD. She been testing us more, pushing us away more, going to strangers more. I was lamenting to Mark about it tonight and then I had a light bulb moment. Maybe she is feeling close to us and is really starting to attach and she is afraid, just like the books say. Maybe she is trying to make us mad at her because for her that is more comfortable than affection and love. Maybe she goes to strangers because their "love" is temporary and goes away, while ours is always in her face. Maybe she is pushing away because sometimes it hurts so much to accept the very thing you've always wanted and needed.

The hurt, the fear, the anger, the loss - sometimes it oozes out of every part of her. And it took me awhile to recognize it because sometimes its just looks like defiance, or disobedience, or even charm. Sometimes she fills her mouth with spit, lets it dribble down her chin and comes up to me just to see how I'm going to respond. I don't always respond right, but tonight has really been a wake up call to me. To love MORE. When she lets the spit dribble, hug her and tell her I love her. When she looks and me and then whops her brother over the head with a toy, rock her and sing her lullabies.

Those things aren't natural to me. What feels more natural (and more satisfying, really) is to put her hiney in a timeout. These last 3 months have been some of the hardest in my life. I want so desperately to parent my children in the right way. I want them to be emotionally healthy and strong. I want to be there for them, to not be angry and irritable with them, and to encourage them to be the best they can be. But every day, every single dang day, I fail. One comes up to be held. "I'm cooking, go play." Another dumps their whole lunch on the floor, on purpose, and I loose my cool. I find myself saying "no" way more than I say anything else.

For a while, the feeling of failure was starting to crush me and make me shut down. But I'm starting to learn that it's all a process. I apologize to my kids and tell them I'm sorry. "Sorry mommy got mad and was not nice." Every day I beg God to give me what I need to get through - patience, peace, love. And lately Camden has been saying, "Mommy, you're a good mommy-er." Which, I think, means that he thinks I'm good at being a mommy. Which, I think, means he has a lot of grace and a terrible memory.

So we've been home three months with Luyana and every day is different. I have given up giving up and I'm pressing forward. I might have failures every day, but every day I can try to love more and better. What redemption this parenting love is: failing, forgiving myself, making things right, and moving forward...freeing me and teaching me to press on, and be better, even when it seems like someone else would definitely be better for the job. I will keep pressing on because my biggest hope in life is that when they are adults and look back on their childhoods they will have positive feelings and good memories; that they will still think I was a good "mommy-er". They are both so precious and truly deserve all the love, patience, and peace in the world.

Love, it Comes Back Knocking.

I have the worst memory known to man. If you ever say to me, "Remember when we...?" and I say I do, I might be lying. And I'm sorry. But, for some reason, I remember this song we sang in Kindergarten:

Love Grows, one by one,
Two by two and four by four,
Love Grows 'round like a circle
And comes back knocking at your front door.

Before we met Luyana, I loved her. I loved her in a fierce, almost maddening, give-me-my-child-before-I-hurt-someone sort of way. When we met her, I loved her in a different way than I had expected. In fact, at first, it didn't even feel like love. It was a heavy, almost burden-like feeling of responsibility. In one moment, I was instantly in charge of caring for and providing for all of the needs of someone I had never met and was depending on me. I realized how much of love equals commitment. And boy was I committed. Committed to her well-being and committed to our growth as a mother and daughter.

And I prayed. HARD. I begged God to fill me with different love. I wanted the love that melted your heart and oozed out of you. I wanted the love of a proud mom with adoring eyes.

The other day I was watching her devour an egg roll in the same manner another child might devour candy. I soaked her in the way you might an infant as you nurse him. One by one. This past week, she finally started initiating hugs; good tight, bear hugs. The kind of hug that makes you cry because you know one day they will grow up and will no longer melt into you like that. Two by two. And lately, when we're out in public, I think: "Man, this kid is cute. I hope other people aren't too jealous of how cute of a kid I have". Four by four.

Love, it does grow. And grow and grow and GROW. And we are so blessed.