The Crab Chronicles

Faith Makes Miracles Happen

Rarely do I open up a blog and read it and start crying, but it happened today. It happened because Michael's friend from the orphanage, Angela, was finally adopted, along with her sister, after 5 years of waiting.

If you want to read an incredible story of love and devotion go here and read. The video at the beginning has a shot of Michael in it, from the orphanage, and it really made me cry buckets.

Right after I brought Michael home, I got to know Cindy LaJoy and our "cyber" friendship has grown, as we read each other's blogs and applaud each other as adoptive moms. I know if we lived in the same town we would be great "real life" friends.

Cindy and her husband spent 5 long years trying to adopt Angela and Olesya, and finally it happened, today, in a courtroom in Kazakhstan. I've been in the same courtroom. I've been praying all day for them.

Faith did it. Faith in God, in God's plan, faith in miracles - just FAITH. Faith in the midst of overwhelming odds. Faith in the midst of a crisis a few weeks ago as the girls' fears led them to resist adoption.

To adopt a child that's not a baby is a huge leap of faith. The rewards are awesome, though. To me, the rewards far outweigh the risks.

Like my kids, these girls are not going to a family rich in material possessions. They are going into a family very rich in LOVE, however.

God Bless the LaJoys. Please say a prayer for a speedy wrapup to the adoption. Cindy will be there in Kazakhstan several more weeks with her sons.

An Amazing Journey

I have been following my friend Cindy LaJoy's amazing Kazakhstan adoption journey for years now, and prayed and prayed she would get her daughters Angela and Olesya home soon, and so her blog today just made me sit here and cry - but happy tears, not sad ones. After an initially rocky start to their adoption, because Angela, age 11, was fearful of being adopted, things are now OK. Cindy's had some really hard things to deal with in these past few weeks, but she has done it, and my admiration for her and her family is boundless. Faith moves mountains.

Cindy's 3 boys have showed remarkable maturity, courage, and love in welcoming their new sisters into the family. It's just beautiful.

I believe God's love and power are amazing, and in order to understand them, you have to let go, and listen. You have to listen with your heart. 

I believe in miracles.

God Bless you Lajoys!!

Mike's Bad Decisions

Michael has some faults, but he is a very honest child. Part of the bond I have with him is that we do not lie to each other. I tell him the truth and he does likewise.

 

When I picked him up from school today, I knew from his face there was something wrong. He told me what had happened at school reluctantly, but I am sure he was being truthful.

 

He was reprimanded by a teacher for fighting in the hallway at school.

 

Now, when he was in Kazakhstan, he got in some fights. In that culture, street kids fight, and orphans fight, and it’s not really a big deal. I have had to explain to him that here in America it’s a really big deal and he better not fight. Schools will not tolerate it, and I sure won’t tolerate it.

 

Note too long after he came home, I found Michael and Alesia play fighting and I turned into Screaming Crazy Mama. I think I scared both of them. I’ve never had to reprimand them for it again.

 

I have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to fighting.

 

He said what happened today in school was that he was walking down the hall with a friend and they were playfully bumping into each other with their elbows. Michael bumped the other boy too aggressively and the boy bounced off the hallway wall just as a teacher came around the corner and saw them. She had a fit, and wrote down Michael’s name. He asked me if I had been called. I had not. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. Mike’s teacher was absent today.

I asked him if he realized how he had screwed up. He said yes, he shouldn’t have been playing so rough, shouldn’t have knocked into the other boy. “But he’s my friend. We weren’t fighting!” he kept insisting. I said calmly, “Michael, it doesn’t matter. It appeared as though you were fighting. You simply cannot do that. It will get you in trouble every time.”

He said he was so bummed out that he had been too upset to eat lunch. He was afraid of what I was going to do. I could tell this had been weighing on his mind.

“Michael, I think you’re telling me the truth, and I think you regret what happened. So I am not going to punish you. You will have to accept whatever happens at school, though.” He nodded.

 

If I had been his birthmom, he would've been beaten. She beat him and hit him many times. I have never hit him, but his fear was there anyway. Early conditioning is hard to overcome. [See note below]

 

We came home and he ate a snack, and we read some Harry Potter to try and help him relax and calm down. Then we did homework. He was fine doing social studies. Then science needed to get started.

 

I told him he was going to need to study for his science test tomorrow on his own while I gave Mother a bath, and he didn’t respond well to that. It turned out Mother wasn’t feeling up to a bath, so I ended up stationing Michael at the dining room table while I fixed dinner. He was supposed to do the questions at the end of each chapter and see if he answered correctly, as a way of reviewing. I kept looking in on him. He looked at the questions, but didn’t write down anything and didn’t correct anything, and announced to me in about 20 minutes that he was done reviewing for the test. I was ticked.

 

I got the meatballs simmering and the macaroni and cheese re-heating in the double boiler and sat down and went over the questions on one of the chapters. He was fading away, not interested at all. I tried to get him to eat some Vienna sausages, something he likes that’s a quick protein source, but he would only eat one.

 

I kept thinking, if I can get some supper into him he will be OK. I have seen this catatonic shutdown before when he doesn’t eat. His stomach doesn’t send hunger signals to his brain like a regular person, due to the many years in Kazakhstan when he was constantly starved.

 

I spoke sharply to him several times, trying to get him to wake up and pay attention and study, not sit slumped over with his head on the book, looking bored. He ignored me.

He ate dinner, though, and refused to eat much, so I sent him to bed. I let Alesia finish watching Monsters vs. Aliens without him.

 

I came upstairs later and he was curled in a ball on the bed, fully clothed, listening to rap music, which he knows I hate. I got him to put on pajamas and brush his teeth with promises of reading Harry Potter. We read two chapters. I tried to talk to him, but he had no explanation for his earlier obnoxiousness.

 

We have studied for his science test every night this week, and he hasn’t been able to get outside much. Maybe that’s part of the problem. It’s been a rainy, nasty week. I am just hoping and praying he will not screw it up too badly tomorrow.

 

INTERESTING TO NOTE:

I get a newsletter email from Heather Forbes, a lady with a lot of experience helping traumatized older kids in adoptive situations. Her response so closely mirrors what the therapist has told me about both my kids, that's it's very dismaying to read, but so true. I couldn't figure out how to link so I reprinted it here:

Q: My son had a terrible early childhood history and constantly tells me he is a bad boy and that nobody loves him. Yet, no matter how much we tell him what a good boy he is or how much we love him, nothing seems to help. How can he continually reject these positive messages?
A: From the moment a child is born, the child is dependent on others to care for him, nurture him, and teach him about the world. This child has no other option but to trust that the information being given to him is the truth. He has no filters….he accepts everything as fact. For a child who goes through early childhood trauma, he lives in a world of false messages that are absorbed as truth. Everything that is said to him becomes his reality. Everything that is done to him becomes a reflection of who he is. For example, if a child is emotionally abused and told he is worthless, that he won’t amount to anything, or that the parent wishes he was never born, this child’s internal belief system develops from these messages. This child believes he is worthless. His belief is that he is not lovable and that he should not be on the planet earth. Neurologically, we know that neurons that fire together wire together. So this belief system becomes ingrained and accepted at a deep subconscious and neurological level. These beliefs lay down the neural circuitry that then governs how this child behaves and responds to life events. We then place this child in a different, more loving family. He is told that he is wonderful, that he is good, and that he is loved. The external messages are now in conflict with the internal messages. Which one do you think is stronger and louder? Of course, it is the internal voice of negativity that will dominate. There is a profound gap between what others say and what the child’s internal framework is saying, preventing this child from easily accepting any new messages beyond that which he already knows. The human brain is programmed to reject any belief that is not congruent (not the same) as one’s own view. Think about this from your own perspective. When someone comes up with a different belief than you have, what is your first reaction? You reject it. You dismiss this person as being on the fringe and you move on, maintaining your own reality in your mind. You might even argue with this person, defending your position in order to “save face” and to protect your own belief system. Now back to the child in this example, the parent then tries to lovingly parent this child and to give this child positive messages of self-esteem and self-worth. Yet, what the parent doesn’t realize is that the parent is up against the power of belief—up against the child’s neurological mapping. No matter how many times this parent tells his new son, “I love you.” or “You are a wonderful child.” or similar positive messages, the old belief system of not being worthy and not being good enough continues to prevail. It is as if these messages are impervious to this child. These positive messages simply slide off the child as if there is a Teflon coating. The reason is that these new messages are being given to the child at a cognitive level and are simply cognitive experiences. Yet, emotions play a powerful role in neural processing, much greater than language and cognition. In order to break through the old negative beliefs of this child, the parent has to dig deep within himself to interact with this child at a deeply profound emotional level. Love has the power to do this. While the emotion of fear keeps this child locked in this negative belief system, it is also true that the emotion of love will release this child from this negative belief system. It takes parenting this child in a loving, safe, and emotionally available manner. And it won’t be just one experience, but several experiences, over and over again, with this child being met at an emotional level, in order for new neural pathways to be created. A new belief system is possible. It takes time, patience, understanding, tolerance, perseverance, and most importantly, emotional impact. For more “what to do in the moment” and more explanation on how to do this, my newest book, “Dare to Love” will give you more application into the principles discussed in this eNewsletter. Love never fails…it simply takes learning how to love our children from their perspective and going beyond routine cognitive experiences.
Press on,
Heather T. Forbes, LCSW Parent and Author of Beyond Consequences, Logic & Control: Volume 1 & Volume 2 Author of Dare to Love

Growing Like a Weed

I am very grateful to everyone who responded to my request for book ideas. I already ordered one of the suggested ones from Amazon and Michael will get it for Christmas.

Michael had an orthodontist appointment today, and got a bracket put on a tooth that is not completely in yet. He is in some pain tonight. I gave him Motrin and I hope he can sleep. The new teeth have dropped in remarkably fast since Mike got the braces back in April. The orthodontist, Dr. C, remarked upon it and I replied "I cannot take credit for it. I just give him vitamins and tell him to brush his teeth!"

Michael grew another 1/4 of an inch just recently. He is now 5'1 1/4. I imagine he will be as tall as me [5'4] in the next 6 months or so.

I had to go to downtown Atlanta today and file a complaint in United States district court. When I was going in, they confiscated my cell phone, because it has a little camera in it! I told the guard, laughing, I have NO IDEA how to use the camera. I just got the phone. I have not had time to sit down and read the instructions on it.

Another adoptive mom who is a buddy of mine is advocating for a precious little 6 year old boy in Eastern Europe who is about to be sent to an orphanage for older kids, where he may not survive due to some rough older kids there. [I know all about this; Alesia's orphanage was where she suffered a lot of abuse.] The boy has very minor physical issues, but they are likely to go away once he comes home and gets proper care. He is very sweet, and the agency is trying hard to get him referred before December 20 so he isn't sent off to the older kids orphanage. The agency has cut their fees drastically! If you have any thoughts you might can adopt this child, email me privately. i can't reveal much here.

If you are traveling tomorrow for the holiday, be SAFE.

 

PRAYER REQUESTS

My friend Cindy L made me aware on her blog of a specific prayer need, that her family can get visas from Kazakhstan so they can travel soon to get their little girls home. If you pray, PLEASE send prayers her way!! 

 

Also, please pray for my friend Cindy B's grandson, who suffered a seizure yesterday. They don't know what's wrong yet.

Oh Happy Day

I had some news this afternoon that made me very happy. It concerns a little girl in Michael’s orphanage that I met almost 3 years ago when I adopted Michael. She was just adorable, and I wished I could have adopted her. Now she is getting a family!!

 

When I came home I learned there was a family in Colorado that wanted to adopt her, but she wasn’t available for legal reasons. Now, that hurdle is cleared and the little girl is about to get a fantastic family. Her new mom has become a dear cyber-friend, and I read her blog every day. Cindy L is so thrilled to finally get “the call” all international adoptive parents dream about - the one saying buy the plane tickets and come on, it’s time to make the adoption happen. I have been praying for Cindy, and God answers all prayers, in his time.

 

Please say a prayer that Cindy and her family will have safe and easy trips to Petropavlovsk to adopt their little girls – A has a sister, now in the same orphanage.

 

Here are some of the kids from Mike's group, who came to hug him goodbye as we left the orphanage. A is one of the girls.

 

 

Alesia hears just fine but she doesn’t always understand. This was brought home to me yet again tonight in a funny way. Just before we started watching our movie, Mother said something to Alesia about her clothes, and Alesia replied something to the effect of what’s fashionable now is the 80’s grungy look.

 

I said “Nope, Sweetie, in the 80’s it was the preppy look.”

 

She looked puzzled. “The puppy look?!” she countered.

 

I laughed. “Preppy, not puppy.”

 

Wouldn’t it have been cute if we had looked like puppies, though?!

Falling Leaves and Snowflakes

I know it’s truly fall, because one of our neighbors called Alesia after school and asked if she could come help her rake up the leaves piled in her front yard. She is a widow, and Alesia was glad to help. The leaves are at their peak around here, but maybe they are turning the corner, because they are falling quickly now.

 

 

Michael was very proud of himself because he had all A’s and B’s on his report card. It’s sort of remarkable, given some tests he recently screwed up, but of course there are lots of ways to make good grades and he does well on his homework, with help.

 

Alesia did well too, but had C’s in Algebra and Chemistry. I asked her how she planned to pull those grades up and she looked embarrassed. “I hope you’re not so distracted by DN that you’re neglecting your grades,” said Mother. I looked at her, nodding. Alesia looked embarrassed. “NO!” she protested.

 

“Alesia, you need to get your grades up, OK, for college, right?” I reminded her.

She assured us she would work on those grades. She is close to a B in both classes.

 

 

I was SO excited to see the mail today. My friend Teresa Kelleher’s book arrived, Snowflakes: A Flurry of Adoption Stories. Michael’s story of his early life is in there, as well as a small piece I wrote. It’s a beautiful book, and filled with fascinating writing by both adopted children and adoptive parents and fmaily members. Most of the essays are not long. Anyone thinking of adopting a child should read the book. Adopted children past 5^th grade or so will enjoy it, too.

 

Michael re-read his essay thoughtfully. He wrote it more than a year ago. It recalls some painful memories from his time with his birthmom. I patted his back as he read. "You should be very proud, Michael. I am VERY proud of you, Sweetie."

Here you can see more about it, from Teresa’s website. You can order it from Amazon here. What a great Christmas gift!

 

 
 

Five Year Ago

Exactly 5 years ago today, I was standing in a Russian courtroom adopting my daughter. The courtroom was scary. There was a huge cage where defendants usually sat. The judge kept asking me WHY I was adopting a 13 year old, in a tone that said she thought I was quite insane. The orphanage director, who was and is an awful woman, got a blistering lecture from the judge about not doing everything to get the kids at Topolevo adopted. I had a bad cold. None of it mattered.

 
This is the youngest photo I have of Alesia. She was about 11 when it was made.  I have no baby pictures of her, and no information on her life before age 6 when she went into the orphanage.

 
These are some of the girls in Alesia's "gruppa" at the orphanage. This was made in May 2004. Now, one of the girls has been adopted, two of them are university students, and the others are on the streets. After 10 years, at age 16 or 17, the kids are released from the orphanage, and often they turn to crime and prostitution because there is nothing else for them. They have no life skills and nobody to help them. Many have mothers who are prostitutes.

  I like this shot because Alesia made it, with a little disposable camera I left with her. This is just outside the orphanage. The building is an apartment house. It was probably close to zero F and see how they are dressed? Typical.

 

This is a drawing Alesia made just before the adoption. Dig my cool black boots! Her English tutor helped her write the words in English. I love this drawing because it shows her dream of a family.

 
Here we are outside the courthouse. This is the first official photo of us as Mother and daughter. I was freezing! It was snowy. I was in a daze, but happy. I had to wait two more weeks for the adoption to be final before I could take Alesia home. Hard to believe how much she has changed, huh?!

 

HAPPY GOTCHA DAY, SWEETIE!!

 
 

Dealing With Attention to a Limb Difference

I saw a post on one of my Yahoo groups the other day and it affected me greatly, because Michael deals with some degree of self-consciousness about his limb difference every time he goes outside our home. I seldom think about it, but he is reminded of his difference all the time.

The Yahoo group is for adoptive parents of children with limb differences. I asked the post's author, Jim DeWees, for permission to excerpt here what he said, and he kindly agreed. Jim is a single dad, and lost part of his leg to frostbite a few years ago. He has a son with the same limb difference as Michael. So Jim can totally understand how it feels to have to encounter stares and comments about being a person with a limb difference, and he has a great way of dealing with the attention.

"I adopted a son from China a little over 2 years ago. He is missing his right hand at his wrist joint, and has little fingers there on the ball of flesh where his hand should be.

He is turning 8 on Saturday, and it aware of his "difference" and deals with it really well. He went through a period where he really tried to hide it when we were in public, and at times will still do that if he notices kids looking at it, or staring at his little hand.

Many times we have been in places like the Children's Museum, or in a line at Disneyworld, or any public place, and children have asked questions like "What happened to his hand?" or "Where's his hand" or things like that. At first, the natural response would be to snap back at them and make them feel bad or hurt, but that doesn't really fix the situation.

I also have a prosthetic leg, and have had it for about 12 years now (after an accident in 1998), and so I can relate to Cameron's situation and have an advantage here, because I can always divert the kid's attention from Cameron to my own prosthetic leg. My leg isn't cosmetic at all, no skin or cover on it. I make prosthetics for a living and so am basically surrounded by amputees every day, all day, and it is just a "way of life" now. I have many different legs, and the one I wear the most is orange. The next favorite one is yellow, then I also have one with Mickey Mouse on it when we go to Disneyworld or Disneyland. I also have a black running leg, swimming leg, a red one, blue one, etc....

So I ask the curious child, or adult at times, if they have ever seen a prosthetic leg or anyone that wears a leg....and they generally say something like "On TV" or something. Or some will say that there is a kid at school with something, or a cousin has some issue of some sort, and start a small conversation with them.

Also, another BIG help is I will ask the child if they have seen Finding Nemo, and remember how he had his lucky little fin??? Well, this is Cameron's lucky little hand, and that makes him special, but it doesn't slow him down or anything.... .

The children always say, Oh Yeah, I remember, and then will say "Cool, that's really cool". And, then Cameron is like a proud little kid again, and goes away from this thinking that he is really special and that it's all ok.

Nobody ends up with hurt feelings, or feeling like a special moment or time was ruined by someone who was curious, or even rude.

In all honesty, in the past 12 years with me dealing with wearing a prosthesis, and having been all over the world (literally), I have had SO MANY situations where people are curious about my leg, and some will ask, some will just stare....some are polite and decent about it, and others are just not "socially gifted" with knowing what to say or being polite....although I have never come across anyone that has intentionally tried to be rude or insulting.

I have taken the time, many times, to gently educate a curious child about this, and turn it into a positive, teaching moment. And that has really been a great way to help this society get over some of the social hang-ups and issues.

I am NOT saying that what anyone has expressed here are "wrong" or "bad". I can totally understand this. There have been times when I have been kind of cranky or in a rush, or upset by something, and the last thing I needed was some kid making some comment, and then hear the parent say something like, "Don't look at that, or don't talk to him, or don't point", and it is usually the parent that is the one to blame for these situations. They should know better, but they are the ones with the problem..... and so I understand at that point of wanting to make some smart-a.... comment back to them, but I have refrained. The ONLY time I can remember making a comment to anyone was when I was in China, and they called Cameron a "Damaged Child" and asked why I would come all the way to China, and pay so much money for a damaged child.....and so I asked this woman (who was of the upper class of society there, and spoke perfect English) is she thought I was also Damamged and worthless... and she said, Yes, and she wondered how I could provide for myself and a child....

Boy, I came unglued with her, and told her that I live in a house that is bigger than she could ever possibly own in China, and that I make more money in a year than what most people in China make in their lifetime, and that Cameron's future is totally wide open, and there are NO limitations in MY country for him, people won't even care or notice anything about his hand, and the sky is the limit for him in the USA....SO, I was adopting him to get him out of the awful, cruel society of China, and taking him to a wonderful place to live. She was kind of shocked, and taken back by my remarks. I also went on to say that the reason I am adopting him is because he is probably smarter than she is, and also he has a much bigger heart in him that she did, and I can't stand the thought of this child being thrown away as garbage in their country. In fact, he is the LUCKY one on that train, because he was born with an issue, and abandoned, and that is his ticket to get out of that country.

Well, I don't HATE China by any means. And I don't hate their culture or society..... BUT, I do not like most of the attitude of these foreign countries who still have labels and reject anyone that has a difference like this.

But, we need to remember that it wasn't too long ago in the USA when anyone with a difference was basically put in a place out of sight and in an institution. They used to have "Homes for Crippled Children", for any child that needed braces for his/her legs, or who was missing limbs, or had spinabifda, etc. It has been in the last 50 years where the USA has become more tolerant or accepting of people with differences.

OK, enough said I think. But, I encourage you to all take the time to help educate the people that have questions and all. It is going to take another generation for people to understand about prosthetics and missing limbs, and the children today can grow up realizing that using a prosthetic limb doesn't mean that the person is less than equal or anything.

Take the time to use the Nemo comment, and that this is his lucky leg or lucky arm/hand... that usually breaks the ice and makes the conversation and situation turn to a positive situation.

If I got offended or upset everytime someone looked at Cameron or me, and made a comment or asked.....I would be upset most of my life, and EVERY outing we have had would have been a bad experience.. ..

So, I try to make everything more positive.

I really hope this helps and doesn't offend anyone.

Thanks and good luck."

Jim DeWees

[FINAL NOTE: If you are on Facebook, friend me and I will send you an invitation to join the group on there for parents of children with limb differences, if that's your situation too.]

The Champ

We’ve had the first real day of fall weather. It was COLD out there.

 

I took the kids to the DeKalb Farmers Market this morning and they were unenthusiastic when they walked in. It’s cold, and there are all kind of odd smells wafting about. As soon as they saw the ladies giving out free sampled of bread, though, they were glad they had come. We ended up getting challah, brioche, and a baguette. We got a few veggies, including some lovely Boston bib lettuce, and some nice strawberries and raspberries, but the produce area was just stacked with people.

 

One thing I detest about going to the Farmer’s market on Saturday are the wall-to-wall yuppies. There are people there with kids in strollers that cost more than my car. The guy ahead of us in the checkout line had all his groceries in those bring your own grocery bags made of recycled materials, and before walking out the door he SNEERED at me and the kids, like, look at me, I am so SUPERIOR to you! Then I bet he got in a big ‘ol gas guzzling SUV.

 

I recycle every plastic bag that comes into my house!! I wanted to yell at him.

 

The big news is that Michael had his first singles match on his tennis team, and he WON!! He was playing really well. I was so delighted and yet stressed out, watching him. It was freezing and the wind was fierce.  It was a close match, but that’s good, he had to be on his toes.

 

To celebrate, we went to an amazing restaurant called Fire of Brazil over in Dunwoody, with cousin Lesleigh. They have the most elaborate salad bar ever, and the best roasted meats. You pay one price and eat what you want, except for drinks and desserts. It was not a cheap dinner, but it was fun.

 

 

Before we read Harry Potter [on book 5, which so far is my least favorite book, I must say] Michael told me he thought the boys he knows on his tennis team are all weak, soft, not good fighters. They aren’t rough boys. Not like the boys he was used to in Kazakhstan. I pointed out that these boys come from middle class homes, and they have never been hungry, or cold, or had mamas that were drunks, drug addicts or prostitutes. They’ve never smoked or drank beer. They don’t have to fight to survive. They are good boys, though, from nice families. Mike is attracted to being friends with boys from tough backgrounds, at school. He is starting to understand that he is different in so many ways from most of the boys he’s around.  However, I told him he is being raised in a nice, solid middle class home, even if we don’t have a lot of extra money. I told him that although inside he will always be a Kazakh boy, he is now an American boy, too, and he needs to understand and embrace that.

 

I told him he is free to look and act like a bad boy up to a point. The point he’s not allowed that is that I won’t let him go to the homes of friends from school who are not from what I consider wholesome families. He knows that already. He has never asked. However, I have told him he can have any friend over to our house that he likes.  

 

My kids have to come to grips with such a huge disparity in how they were their first 13 years or 10 years, in Russia and in Kazakhstan, and being nice middle-class kids now. I think they both struggle with that. They feel different. They have had such hardship and seen so much, that it’s hard to fit in with soft middle or upper class kids around here, who have no idea what it’s like to be raised by an alcoholic and be cold, hungry, etc.

 

We have stopped therapy but I wonder all the time if we need to resume it. I think in the long run my kids just need to find their own way to be in this world, and all I can do is let them express their feelings and try to understand and support them. I pray a lot, too…

 

  

 

Here's Mike playing in his tennis match. / Below, Les and Alesia at the restaurant.

 

 

 

Reflecting on How Far They Have Come

Sometimes I think about the journey that has brought my children here to America, and I am overwhelmed. I met with Michael’s teachers today and with the counselor about his 504 plan [minor modifications due to his missing hand]. I was later browsing through some adoption books on the Tapestry site and I thought my God, what a long journey they have made.

Michael told me last night the only time he got decent coats in Kazakhstan was when outsiders came to the orphanage. He was always cold there, and he stayed sick a lot. He was cold and malnourished. Alesia and Michael both had to scrounge for clothes and wore things that were ragged and worn, and never the right size, and they only got clean clothes once or twice a week.

My children left behind everything that was familiar, and came to a place that was like another planet. Russia and Kazakhstan are much like 3^rd world countries.The poverty my kids knew was severe. America is clean, warm, and nobody abuses them here. They sleep in a bed all their own here. They get food and vitamins every day. Those facts alone are a total contrast to the world they had known.

I will never forget the tiny, white, scared little boy that came home with me in 2007. He was smaller than the first graders I taught in vacation bible school that summer. He clung to me fiercely when I had left him and got home. Now he is a growing adolescent, almost as tall as me [he grew almost an inch in the past two months] but he still has times, every other day or so, when he just wants to be held. All the affection he missed, I am trying to replace, and that’s OK. That’s my privilege.

 

With Alesia, affection is much more difficult – she was rarely ever hugged until age 12. She has asked me for a hug maybe half a dozen times in nearly 5 years. It’s tough for her with me, although she hugs her friends.

 

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by simply this sad fact: my kids walked out of their orphanages with everything they owned in one small plastic bag, the size of a grocery bag. There were no toys, no family photos, no keepsakes, nothing. I have no medical on Alesia from before age 6. I only have medical on Michael because the social worker at his orphanage gave me the small booklet containing all his medical notes since birth after I specifically asked. 

 

Michael’s teachers today all said the same thing; he is doing well, and he is a smart, good boy. He just needs to be more proactive in asking for help if he doesn’t understand. He is shy about that. I explained to them that there are still a lot of words in English he doesn’t know, and he also usually needs extra time on writing assignments. I also explained that the words “hurry up” often freak him out.

I told them about Michael doing an entire science project yesterday on his own, on the computer. I helped him get started, but then I had to deal with a phone repairman and start dinner. When I went back to check on him, it was done, and done well. They don’t realize what an immense achievement that was for him.

In Kazakhstan he never had to do projects in school. He couldn’t use a computer for schoolwork. The first project he ever had to do here, I pretty much did it for him, a poster about Africa. It has taken a lot of time and patience to get him to be able to do his own projects.

It pains me to think about the children still in the orphanages. It keeps me awake at night sometimes. I see their faces.

I have advocated for several children to be adopted, since I finished my adoptions. One boy just came home a few weeks ago. He was adopted by a very loving couple and he should be fine, with a bit of extra help. He is 14. Few people are willing to adopt a 14 year old boy. Few people are willing to adopt a 13 year old girl, or a 10 year old handicapped boy.

Few people will ever know the amazing love these children have to give, and their unbounded potential, and that’s the real tragedy.

Maybe I am naïve. Maybe the fact that my kids are relatively easy to manage distorts my view. We’ve had challenges in my house, but what parent doesn’t have challenges? I know other parents have a terrible time with older adopted kids, in some instances. The media loves to focus on the horror stories. The good stories aren’t news. I just wish more people would give these kids a chance. You often hear only the negative stories.

There are many stories out there of families who have successfully and happily adopted older children. I wish I could start a website dedicated to people who adopt older children and have good outcomes. Not a “hearts and flowers” type of site, but a site with practical information and resources, and inspiring stories.  Maybe one day I can find the time and funds to start such a website. Until then, recounting my journey here will have to suffice.