A Sister

Garrett has been requesting a baby sister for some time.

I promise I do not put him up to it.

At the dinner table the other night, he said, "I want a baby sister. [pause for response] I want a white baby sister."

Rick and I both looked at him as if he had antlers growing out of his head, because we would never even dream of requesting a white baby. If we adopt again, we'll keep the brown thing going.

"A white baby? Why?," I asked.

"Because brown girls only speak Chinese or Spanish," he explained.

I've laughed about his thought process for days now. I guess I should explain to him that brown girls can speak English, especially if they grow up in an English-speaking family.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

The boys have recently been talking about when they "grow up" and what they hope their lives will be like. Here are some excerpts:

Liam (6 years): Garrett, where do you want to live when we grow up?
Garrett (4 years): I want to live with the Aggies and my coach.
L: No! Don't you want to live with me?
G: Yea, but we have to live with the Aggies.
L: Mommy, will Garrett live with the Aggies forever?
Me: Well, people live in Aggieland during college, which takes about 4 years, but most people move away after that.
L: See, Garrett, we can't live with the Aggies forever. Do you want to live in Colorado or Florida?
G: Um, Colorado. No, no, I want to live near my Mommy.
M: [kisses that sweet baby]

**********

Background: Rick and I have recently been calling Jack the "Polizei" (German police), because he spouts off constant reminders to everyone about every rule known to mankind. Not that he obeys the rules himself, mind you, but he wants everyone to know that he sees them when they are wrong.

As we were riding along in the car today, this conversation took place:
Liam: Garrett, do you want to be a baseball player when you grow up?
Me: [Silently: Does the crow fly?]
Garrett: Yes, I want to play for my Aggies.
Jack (4 years): We-y-ull, I'm gonna be a Polizei sometimes when I grow up. Yep, I'm gonna be a Polizei. I'm gonna be the Polizei because I'll be good at it.
Liam: You already are the Polizei.
Jack: We-y-ull, I'm still gonna be the Polizei sometimes.

***********

Earlier in the week, the boys were talking about how many dogs they want when they grow up.
Liam: Mommy, you know how many dogs I want when I grow up?
M: No, how many?
L: FOUR! [with his eyes wide]
M: Whoa! That's a lot of poop to pick up.
L: Can I bring them home to meet you sometimes?
M: Sure, as long as you clean up the poop.
L: Well, I'm gonna have 4 Dalmatians, and I'm gonna name them Sam, Sally, and...I don't know yet.
Jack: We-y-ull, I'm gonna have 2 dogs, and I'm gonna name them Samuel and Peter.
M: Will you have Dalmatians, too?
J: No, I'm gonna have.... Hmm, we-y-ull, I'm gonna have sheepdogs.
M: Will you have sheep, too?
J: Yes, I'll have sheep and 2 sheepdogs and they'll be named Samuel and Peter.
Garrett: I'm not gonna have dogs. I'll just come see Mommy's dog, but do you know how many babies I want to get, Mommy?
M: No, how many?
G: 100 babies. [with eyes wide and arms spread wide and far]
M: Whoa, that's a lot of work! Are you going to adopt those babies, because you said you're going to "get" 100 babies?
G: Uh-huh, I'm going to adopt 100 babies. And I'll buy a machine that will help me to carry them.
J: They don't make machines like that. They just have strollers that carry 1 or 2 babies at a time.
G: Well, I'll make a machine to carry 100 babies. And I'll stay at home with them. And then, when I get tired, I'll sell them and go to college at Texas A&M.

**********

Someday I will forget the innocence of their conversations. And I may even forget how sweet their little voices sound. (Sniff, sniff.) Not that their words are always sweet. Ahem.

Orphans Deserve Better

I'm working on a post to summarize what was perhaps the best family vacation ever, but in the meantime, would you please take 1 minute to sign a petition?

Warner Bros has a movie trailer in theatres for Orphan. I haven't seen it myself, but apparently it is the story of an orphan girl who is adopted and then begins terrorizing everyone around her.

I am upset to hear that Hollywood, Warner Bros specifically, finds it entertaining to further discourage people from adopting! As if 145 million orphans worldwide isn't a scary enough statistic, WB has to give Americans another reason to shy away from the orphans!

I urge to please stay away from this film. Instead, please take one minute to click here and sign the petition to encourage Warner Bros to pay proceeds from this sickening film to the kids who deserve far more recognition. Thank you!

I Can't Believe It!

Where were you February 2, 2005? I know exactly where I was and what I was doing.

I was at Deaconess Hospital in Oklahoma City, where Garrett was born. Caring for my minutes-old baby in the nursery was the most special experience of my life.

I was able to give him his first bath and bottle.
And we were attached to one another instantly.
It seems like just yesterday.
I cannot believe it was actually four years ago! My baby is no longer a baby. Excuse me while I go cry.

(Garrett's adoption story can be found on the right sidebar.)

It's Jack's Day

Today, January 6th, is Jack's fourth birthday.

For those new to my site, he is our middle child, but we adopted him last, as he was closing in on four months of age. We were supposed to adopt him at birth, but his birth mom had a hard time relinquishing him and decided to parent him. By the time he was nearly 4 mos., she decided it was best to relinquish her rights. His adoption story is an amazing revelation of God's sovereignty, and I invite you to read it in its entirety when you have some time. All four parts are located on the right sidebar.

As I was looking through old pictures for this birthday post, I realized one of my worst fears. We have lost some photos. And those photos are of Jack's first few days of life with us. It saddens me greatly. Not only do I not have photos of the first 4 mos of his life, but I've now lost photos of our first few days as the fabulous five.

My mom has a copy of the first picture of he and I together. The quality is horrible, but I have to post it anyway.
That is moments after our attorney's secretary handed him to me. What I remember about those first few moments is how BIG his eyes were. And his 'fro cracked me up.

For those familiar with attachment issues, you'll pick up on how stiff he was in my arms and how he's avoiding my eyes. I picked up on it right away, and I was immediately nervous.

When we took him to our hotel room, he refused to let me rock him or feed him. He only wanted Rick. For some reason, we have this one photo of that night.
Look at his sweet eyes and clinched fists. He was probably so confused by all the change taking place in his little life.

This is a photo of the five of us the next day. When people see this photo, they usually say, "Ami, you look so tired." Oh my word, I was beyond tired and scared out of my mind.
Moments after this photo, Jack began crying inconsolably. I took him to another room and held him close and cried right along with him. And prayed like I've never prayed before in my life. "Lord, I know you brought Jack to be our child. Please, please help him to attach to me."

And I continued that prayer for a long time.

God was faithful. Jack has attached and is a normal member of this family. He can be my most challenging boy, but he keeps me on my knees.

Not every moment in those first months were rough. Here's a shot of his bright eyes along with a grin.
Man was life crazy with two infants and a 2 year old! But look how cute they were!

(Jack, Liam, Garrett on the night of baby dedication)

Today, Jack is an interesting character. A little more about him:

He is my best sleeper. Night, day, bed, car, glasses or not...almost anywhere he allows himself to be still for more than 5 minutes.

He is my most imaginative child. He can turn the most simple of objects into a game of almost anything. He is also the one to be most macho in his play...always wanting to fight, hunt, or repair something.
In public, he will sit and watch strangers for hours. In this next shot, he had been staring at passengers on a train. I called his name, and he knew it was time to stop staring.
And then, it was time to be a ham. He is our class clown.
He is often more entertained with everyday objects than normal toys. An umbrella kept him from staring on the train.
Notice the "I love you" sign on his left hand. He is frequently found telling us he loves us. Now, if that's not healing from the Lord, then I don't know what is.

And this is one of my favorite recent photos of Jackson.
So handsome. Bright eyes. Beautiful smile.

Happy 4th birthday, Little Man! I love you,
Mommy

A Good Reason for the Ugly Cry

I'm glad we're not talking in person, because I might cry the ugly cry on you today. You know the one where my face turns beat red and my nose forces me to blow my foghorn. I'd rather you not see me that way.

We're using the What God Wants for Christmas nativity set again this year. In this set is a booklet that parents read to their children for 7 days leading up to Christmas in order to help young children understand the true meaning of December 25. Each day refers to one or two scripture references, and a child can open a numbered box that contains that day's character. For instance, day 1 uses Luke 1:26 to explain Gabriel's role in telling Mary that she would carry and give birth to Jesus. The child opens a box containing Gabriel.

We sat down as a family to go over day two yesterday, which explains Mary's role and uses Luke 1:26-38 as its reference. Rick had my bible open to Luke 1 on his lap, while he was further explaining what he had read to us. Jack was sitting next to him and fighting the wiggles that creep up on him after 2.2 minutes of listening to anyone.

Suddenly, Jack shouted, "THAT'S MY NAME! JACK! SEE?!"

Indeed, it was his name written next to Luke 1:45 in my bible. A verse that spoke to my heart on September 9, 2004.

Luke 1:45 (NIV) "Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!"

What the Lord had said to me at that time in my life was that Jack was going to be our son. Jack was not yet born, but we knew that his birth mom was pregnant with him. At that time, she had asked us to adopt him, and we were anxiously preparing his nursery for his December/January birth.

But my heart told me that his adoption would not be an easy ride. I believe the Lord was preparing me for what was to come...the roller coaster ride that we would have to take in order to get Jack.

(For those new to my blog, you can read Jack's adoption story using the links at the right of this page. It's a long story and you, too, might cry the ugly cry, but it's a great story that will point you to God's goodness in the form of his sovereignty.)

Because I felt that his adoption was not going to be easy, when I read that verse in 2004, I had to underline it and add his name to it. I knew that I would someday need to be reminded of God's promise to put Jack in my arms. And I knew I would need to be encouraged to believe that this child was to be mine.

Back to 2008, Jack saw his name in my bible. Even though I couldn't see the bible from where I was sitting, I knew exactly what he was seeing. I've seen it numerous times throughout the last four years. Each time I see it, my heart flutters to remember that God truly accomplishes what He sees fit for me.

As my nearly four year old read his name in my bible this weekend, the tears welled up in my eyes. I could not explain to him the meaning behind it, because my voice becomes unpredictable with the ugly cry. Rick doesn't cry the ugly cry, so he was able to explain it to him. And he then told Jack to climb up in my lap for some love.

It was a hug that he and I both needed, as Jack has been especially challenging lately. It was a hug that refreshed my soul.

That moment reminded me the Lord is not going to leave me alone to parent this child that pushes every limit. It reminded me that there was a time in my life when my heart ached for this baby to be mine. And it reminded me that not only did He fulfill His promise in handing me that baby boy, but He will continue to fulfill His promises in this child's life.

"Are They Triplets?" Part III

(You can find Part I and Part II here.)

When I tell people that my boys are not triplets, the next question is...

"Well, are they twins," pointing to Jack and Garrett. I explain that Jack is 26 days older. I have also been asked, "How did that happen?!" I had to bite my tongue before answering without too much sarcasm.

Some other commonly asked questions are:

1. Are they yours? (Um, no, I picked them up off the street corner this morning, yet they call me Mommy.)
2. Where are they from? (As if they must come from Africa, since they are black.)
3. Are they brothers? (If I am the mommy to all three, then that makes them brothers.)
4. whispering Are they adopted? (YES! And there's no need to whisper!)
5. Do you want any more children? (I may be crazy, but I think I do.)

I cannot leave my neighborhood without being asked at least two of these questions. Most of these questions come about because people are not accustomed to seeing trans-racial adoptive families like us. They're forced to come up with questions on the fly. We try to laugh it off, and most days we're pretty good at it.

How True for You?

Have you ever heard of this nursery rhyme?

Monday's child is fair of face.

Tuesday's child is full of grace.

Wednesday's child is full of woe.

Thursday's child has far to go.

Friday's child is loving and giving.

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child born on Sabbath day is fair and wise and good and gay.

My boys are as follows:

Liam(5) was born on a Friday and is certainly loving and giving.  He is very affectionate with his words and his actions.  He commonly looks through his toys or drawings to see what he can give a friend or loved one.

Garrett(3) was born on a Wednesday, and is he ever full of woe!  When he is wronged in some way, such as being accidentally pushed, look out!  He's going to come up swinging and screaming.  (Now, don't get me wrong, he does know how to be happy.  When he is happy, we're all happy.  But when he's upset, look out!)

Jack(3) was born on a Thursday, but I'm not certain what "far to go" is supposed to mean.  Perhaps "far to go" represents his on-again, off-again adoption story and how far he had to go before joining our family.

I find it funny how closely this rhyme suits at least 2 of my 3 kids.  How about yours???  (If you can't remember what days of the week your children were born, shame on you!  I kid.  But if your memory is failing you, as mine often does, use this calendar to help you.)

The Nut

Five years ago today, Rick received the phone call from our attorney's office that informed us of our first baby's birth. Because of Louisiana law, we wouldn't be able to see Liam for five days, so Rick asked, "What does he look like?"

The answer was, "He's tiny. He has lots of soft, curly hair. He's just a little peanut."

And his nickname immediately became Peanut. I had thought long and hard to come up with a handsome name for him. But as soon as that phone call came, I knew that we would call him by nickname more often than Liam Edward.

But it's amazing how the nickname fit him. When I first saw him, he was so tiny that the newborn clothes I sent for him to wear did not fit him, and the attorney's assistant had him dressed in a t-shirt. We bought him preemie clothes the next day, because newborn clothes swallowed him. He was a Peanut indeed.

Over the years, however, Peanut has morphed into other names such as Peanutty, P, P Diddy, Nutty, NutBall, and The Nut. And he is The Nut. He's constantly making us laugh with his goofy comments, silly questions, and crazy antics.

Last night, I pulled out the t-shirt he was wearing when I first laid eyes on him. Actually, I've done this every year on his birthday.

Unfortunately, I've never taken pictures of him in it. It's been sort of a silent moment of celebration for me every year. I put the shirt on him to remember that wonderful day in which I held my first baby for the very first time, the moment in which my heart stopped because my world was finally complete.

But I wanted to take pictures last night, because The Nut is no longer a tiny peanut, and I fear he won't be able to fit into it the shirt next year. As I forced it over his head, I told him my plan of taking pictures, and he immediately turned into The Nut and was ready to perform.

Here are photos of my silly 5 year old in his baby shirt that is now a halter top:



Did I tell you he's nutty? And then, I wanted a picture of the two of us in our matching shirts, which I promise I didn't plan this morning. And mine doesn't reveal my belly, thankfully.

"Liam, could you please give us one nice smile tonight?" Not a chance.





That's better. That's my boy. I'm sad that he's already 5, but I'm eager to see what he will become in the next 5.

For new readers, Liam's adoption story is here and here.

Loss

As the month of March ends, I look ahead to April, the month of Liam's birthday.  He will be 5 this year, the age where I really see him growing up.  No longer a baby, nor a toddler.  Not even a preschooler anymore.  A bonafide child.

He has been acting older lately.  He's given up his afternoon nap.  He enjoys reading books in bed before falling asleep for the night.  He is proving to be quite the helper around the house.  His conversations have more meaning to them.

One day last week, he had been overly sensitive and emotional throughout the day.  After I put his brothers down for a nap, I sat down beside him and began a conversation.

Me:  Are you sad?

Liam:  Yes.

M:  Can you tell me about it?

L:  I'm just sad.

M:  Do you ever think about your birth mom?  (thinking that he is at the age to begin to explore his adoption story at a deeper level)

L:  Yes.

M:  What do you think about when you think about her?

L:  (crawling into my lap)  I miss her.

M: (swallowing a huge lump in my throat)  Oh baby, I'm sorry you miss her.  I'm sure she misses you, too.  She loves you.  You know, if you ever want to talk about her, you can ask Mommy and Daddy questions.  We love you and want to help you understand your adoption as a story of love.  Do you need to ask me a question?

L:  Uh-huh.  Can I make her a card?

M:  Sure, baby.

We gathered the materials he needed, and he set to work.  He wanted help spelling her name for the front cover, and he added his name nearby.  He drew a picture of a hospital with birds, trees, and clouds.  He said that it was a picture of the day he was born.

As I watched my eldest, my little Peanut, make this card for his birth mom, I watched my baby mature in a very special way.  He's beginning to put into words and art his emotions for this woman that gave him life.  He probably doesn't truly remember her, as she let the adoption agency take him from the hospital upon her release.  But he knows that somewhere out there is a woman who carried him in her belly and chose us to parent him.

I have been reading Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew by Sherrie Eldridge over the past week or so.  Honestly, it's the hardest thing I've ever read, because it makes me dig deeper than the love behind my boys' adoption stories.  It is a book written by an adoptee who has counseled many other adoptees, and she encourages adoptive parents to allow their adopted children to grieve the loss of their birth families.  She stresses that the grief over this very real loss can take place in babies, children, teens, and adults.  And the more we are able to help our adopted children face their grief, the healthier we will all be.

Going into the adoption process over 5 years ago, I knew the day would come for my children to face this loss.  And I knew it would hurt them and me.  But I wasn't fully prepared for the pain that would pierce my heart.  

I am not hurt because he wants to jump in the car and hand deliver this card to his birth mom.  I'm not hurt because I have to share his heart with her.  

I hurt because I don't want to see my baby suffer.  I don't want to see him hurt over his adoption.  I want him to see his adoption for the sacrifice and love that it is.  But it is not realistic to expect him to accept his adopton in that manner and to never grieve the fact that he was separated from his flesh and blood at four days of age.

He has to face his grief.  That stinks.  I have to help him face his grief instead of stuffing it under the pillow.  That stinks.  

But I will do it, because I love this child with every ounce of my being.

Would I do it all over again, knowing the pain that we have felt this past week?  100% yes!  He was destined to be my boy, and I will love him until the day I die.  As long as I have breath, I will strive to help him be a whole boy/man.  

Dear God, please help my child. Please help him to fully deal with his loss and to be a whole person as a result.  Equip me where I have no clue what to say or do.  Where I fail him, fill those voids with your grace.  Amen.

Brown is Beautiful

A common question I get as an adoptive mom to black/biracial boys is, "When do the boys notice the difference?" Another common question is, "What do you tell them?"

My boys have each begun to notice their differences at age 3. Yesterday's conversation with Jack is a good example.

The boys were playing in the back yard with the door open, while I was making dinner in the kitchen. Jack came to the door with a white plastic child's chair on his back.

Here is the conversation that took place:
Jack: Mommy, I have a chair on my back, and it's a white backpack. (He has a vivid imagination and can make anything into something else.)

Me: I see that backpack. Cool!

J: I'm white.

M: No, you're brown.

J: Why?

M: Because God made you brown.

J: Why?

M: Because God loves brown skin, and he wanted you to be brown. And you're very handsome.

J: Oh!

And he ran off to play with his "backpack".

It's fun to watch my boys understand the world around them. I feel strongly that they will help the world to become more color blind. Because God is.

On the Topic of New Additions

Because Sally the acorn and Cocky the rock don't require too much of me, we've been entertaining the idea of baby numero quatro. Actually, I've been entertaining the idea for a while, maybe six months or so.

Originally, Rick wasn't too keen of the idea. He was sufficiently worn out from the three boys that tend to sap his energy, free time, and cash. And there are certainly days where I understand that train of thought.

However, when I think about how close my mom and I are, I know that I must obtain me a shopping buddy, I mean a daughter.

These boys prefer shopping at the Home Depot. Me, I prefer Lucy or Ann Taylor Loft. But I digress.

Although we're raising our boys to be a close-knit family, I fear that when they get married, they'll leave and cleave, as they should. But if I have a girl or two, I hope to still have the close relationship that my mom and I have.

Rick has slowly come around to the idea over the past few months. He wants a girl to spoil. She won't be worth two cents, once she wraps him around her little finger.

I haven't made him aware of how much a girl can cost her daddy's bank account, so help me keep that under wraps, okay?

Anyway, we've been talking about a baby casually, here and there. "What will we name her?" "When is the time right?" "What room will be hers?" Yadda, yadda.

I know we're getting closer, but in my mind, it still seems about a year away.

Until a couple nights ago.

As we climbed into bed, Rick said, "When we get our baby girl, we'll put her bassinet in our room."

What?! I didn't realize he was that close to taking this plunge.

"The boys never slept in our room, because we couldn't sleep through their every whimper and the crinkle of the diaper," I quickly reminded him.

"I know, but this might be our last baby, so we better enjoy her," he said sappily.

But she might need a sister....

We must be pretty close to jumping into the adoption process. I still think we should wait until Rick gets another raise in the Fall, but I think if I said, "Let's go now," Rick would be ready.

The thought of another baby is exciting and scary. Another little one to love and cuddle. Another mouth to feed. Another little one to watch explore the life around her. Another one to end our sleep. Another life to shape. Another college fund to support. More cuddles and giggles to enjoy.

Will one more be enough? I don't know. I can't imagine being finished ever, but it will have to end somewhere! I guess I'll slow it down and try to enjoy today for what it is.

A New Addition

We have a new addition!

No, we have not adopted another baby. I wouldn't be quiet about that! I would fill you in on every detail. It would be something like, "Hey, we've decided to adopt again." And then, "Hey, we started the paperwork." Then, "We're working on our home study." Finally, "We're in the hurry-up-and-wait mode." Lots of photos of our new baby would fill the blogoshpere soon thereafter.

Instead, Liam grew tired of asking for another dog or a cat. I think he figured he might as well give up on me, because I keep telling him we don't need another animal. So he's adopted an acorn.

Internets, meet Sally.
Sally came from Bear Creek Park and now resides in the CupRunnethOver home. Because there's no room in this inn, Liam made her a bed of straw in a plastic bowl. I've convinced him that she does not need water.

But he decided she did need a cousin, so he's also added Cocky the rock. Look close, and you'll see Sally's playmate snuggling in.
Incidentally, I have no idea where these names have come from. I feel pretty sure that Liam will not be naming his baby sister, whenever she comes to life.

Friday Funny

During the 4:00 local news, a commercial advertising some sort of 3-D sonogram came on the television. As Liam saw the baby on ultrasound, he became inquisitive.

L: What is that?

M: It's a picture of a baby growing in its mommy's belly. Do you remember that babies grow in the mommy's belly?

L: Uh-huh.

M: Did you grow in my belly?

L: No.

M: You grew in your birth mom's belly for 9 months. When you were born, she chose us to be your mommy and daddy, because she knew she needed help raising you. She chose us, and we'll be your parents forever.

By this time, he had crawled up in my lap for a hug, and I was teary-eyed over the tender moment. Silence filled the room, as I choked up over the amazing love I have for this boy. Only it was interrupted by Liam's next request.

L: Can I have a snack now?

Adoption

Last Monday, I asked for your questions to give my writing brain a jump start. Margaret asked two questions, one of which I answered on Tuesday. Today, I will attempt to answer her second question. She asked, "What advice would you give another couple considering adoption?"

Besides my kids, adoption is my favorite topic. I remember when Rick and I were engaged, he mentioned that he would like to adopt one day. The thought of adoption scared me back then. At that time, I pictured adoption as nothing but trying and difficult. But I remember praying like this: "God, if we are to adopt in our future, please change my heart. If we are not, then please change Rick's." Well...you see what happened! God took my hard heart and softened it to the point that nothing short of adoption would fulfill my desire to be a mother. I could have chosen in vetro fertilization, but when the fertility doctor said that IVF was my last choice, I said, "No, it's not. I can adopt."

In the very beginning of our adoption journey, I still pictured my baby as a blond, blue-eyed, freckled child...just like Rick and I appeared as children. But when we went to the agency's first informational meeting, I saw that we were going to have to wait in line for our white, all-American baby. There were about 10 other couples in the same stage, and I felt like we were going to have to compete to get the birth moms' attention. It just didn't feel right to us. We took a step back and asked ourselves again, "What is it that we really want? Does it matter that this baby looks like us?" Of utmost importance to us was that we become parents to a human, because we had already tried parenting a dog, which was fun but not quite all that we wanted!

That's when we decided that our hearts were being pulled to Africa and began the process to adopt a girl from Sierra Leone. As I've mentioned before, that international program became shaky and we decided to stop funding the adoption that might never be. But our hearts were still drawn to black children, so all of our adoptions from that point on were for African Americans.

That is a long way of giving my first bit of advice to the prospective adoptive couple: don't be narrow-minded. If we had continued to search for a white baby, the wait would've been longer. Liam's adoption only took 9 months, and that time includes the eight failed adoptions! It's sad but very true, so I'll go ahead and be blunt...most adoptive couples don't want black babies. But if you can open your heart to becoming a trans-racial family, there are so many black babies that need stable families! And you don't have to go to Africa. They're right here in your own backyard.

We went through two agencies before finding the "right fit" for us. The first agency felt too competitive, and the second one wasn't upfront with some information. Therefore, my second piece of advice is...choose your agency wisely. Talk to other adoptive families and ask if they would use their agency again. Don't be afraid to back out of a program if you feel uneasy.

With Jack's adoption, we felt comfortable enough to forego an agency. Instead, we hired our social worker and attorney independently. We saved a lot of money this way, but I would not suggest this to the novice adoptive family. An agency will cost you more money, but a good agency will also provide you with the help that you will need along the way.

An adoption consultant is another option. A competent consultant will have contacts with many agencies that often have "ready-to-go" babies. We went this route with Garrett, after Jack's adoption was so heart-wrenching. Our consultant was able to help us find Garrett on quick notice.

Yes, adoption can be expensive! Depending on which program you choose, you can expect to spend $12,000-30,000. Yikes! But the IRS does give tax credits to help with the financial burden. We have been able to realize our tax credits every year for the past three years, so it's a nice little bonus every April!

My last bit of advice for the prospective adoptive family is to pray, pray, pray. Adoption is wonderfully rewarding, but there can be trials that come your way. Cover your adoption journey in prayer so that God's will can be allowed into your family. And don't forget that He knows which child needs you, so ask Him to guide you to that child.

I'm sure that I scare some people away when I talk about our eight failed adoptions. Yes, it hurt. Yes, it might happen to you once or twice, but I really doubt that you'll have to face that failure eight times. I also know families that never once faced that heartache, because they were able to get their children on their first attempts. Please don't shy away from adoption because of fear. There are so many children that need forever families!

If you have other questions, I'm open to answering them for you. You can leave me a comment or an email, and I'll try to help you the best I can.

Time Will Tell

Thanks to Margaret for question numero uno to get my brain back in writing mode. She asked two questions, but they each deserve their own post. Today's question is: "Have you considered adopting more or is your family complete?"

Just last night, I was watching a show on TLC about a family with thirteen kids! Oh my word, that wears me out just typing it! I was watching this show in my bed last night, because anything past 9pm must occur with my pillow under my head, quite frankly. Rick came to bed during the last few minutes of the show. When he realized what I was watching, he covered his head with his pillow and said, "I do NOT want thirteen kids!" I laughed and asked how many he would like. As I asked this, I silently prayed, "Please say at least four!" But he didn't. "Three is just enough for me," he said with pure exhaustion filling every square inch of our bedroom.

To give him credit, he had just spent the entire evening in the backyard with the boys, while I kept my allergy-laden body in the air conditioning. Nothing will wear him out more than working a full day at the office and coming home to hit the backyard in 99% humidity with squealing boys. Word to the wise: do not ask your husband for more children after he's been playing outdoors with the children for three hours in addition to his normal work day!

To put all kidding aside, yes, we want to adopt again. Although we have days like yesterday, where we are completely worn out and wonder how in the world we could handle just one more child, we both know deep in our hearts that we are not finished. I would really like to have a girl.

Will we stop with one more baby? I don't know. I imagine that Rick would adamantly say "Yes!", but I can't imagine ever being finished!

Before we got Liam, I remember another adoptive mom telling me that adoption is addictive. I thought that sounded crazy at the time, but it is very true. It's like eating just one chip. How can you take just one, when you know how wonderful they are?! I'll take a handful, please.

The next question people typically ask is, "When?" I'm not certain. I can tell you that I am not ready right now. I still have two in diapers, for goodness sake! It would be nice to get Jack and Garrett potty trained and a bit more independent before adding a fourth child. Maybe in another two years. Only time will tell.

But I can tell you with great certainty that we will not have thirteen kids! Mercy!

Four Years Ago

Four years ago today, we became a family. To say that we were elated is an understatement!

It was love at first sight! I couldn't take my eyes off of him, and I didn't share him with anyone for a long time. I couldn't let him go.

Finally, I handed him over to his daddy. Liam was so alert those first few moments. It was as if he knew that he needed to look us in the eyes and say "hi".

And if you told me then, that we would be a family of five soon, I would've laughed in your face. But here we are!

Liam's Adoption Story Part II

Thank you for joining me for the conclusion to Liam’s adoption story. For those that missed part one yesterday, please go here.

Because Louisiana has a five-day waiting period, the agency we worked with asked us to stay at home in Colorado until Liam was five days old. We tried our best to obey, but we couldn’t sit at home with nothing to do, so we left the next day and drove to visit family in Texas until day three. We planned to leave Texas on day four and head to Louisiana in preparation for our early morning day five placement.

On the morning of day four, we ate breakfast at IHOP with my parents and Rick’s mom just before leaving for Louisiana. We were all so excited to know that we would finally have our baby boy the next morning. Rick’s cell phone rang during breakfast. It was our social worker letting us know that BM was asking for $1000 in addition to the $4000 living expenses we had already given her. She said that she needed this money in order to move. We felt caught between a rock and a hard place. Do we withhold the money and take the chance that she might “run” with the baby? Do we give her the money in an effort to appease her? It was a tough decision. Looking back on it now, I still have mixed emotions about that decision. At any rate, we agreed to pay her more.

During the seven hour drive to Louisiana, the social worker called again to ask for yet another $100. I got on the phone this time, being the take-charge, bossy woman that I am, and said, “If she thinks we are made of money, she is wrong! Tell her we’ll bring $100 more, but that. is. it.”

The rest of the day and night were an emotional roller coaster for everyone. We had been told that we could actually see Liam briefly that evening, if the social worker felt confident in BM’s decision to place. Our social worker never called us that evening, and our tension mounted as we imagined the worst…that we had been duped.

The sun came up on Day 5, and we paced the floor awaiting the phone call that would tell us to come get our baby. We have video of us during this waiting period, and our extended family is visiting and enjoying themselves, but Rick and I are off to the side being very quiet. I was so scared that my heart was going to be ripped open again.

By 8:30 am, I was feeling fear grip me, and I told Rick that he had to call to at least see if BM had shown up to sign papers. Indeed, she was present, she had signed the papers, and she was being counseled one more time. A huge sigh of relief was heard from everyone present, and I was finally able to jump for joy, literally. Thirty minutes later, our social worker called to say, “Rick, your baby boy is crying for you. You can come get him now.” Yahooooooo!

We drove straight to the office. I remember jumping out of the car and making sure that I was the first person to see Liam. No one was going to get in my way of finally holding my very own baby! What is absolutely amazing is that the instant I saw him, I knew he was mine! All of the failed fertility treatments and the failed adoptions made sense in that instant…none of those babies were intended for us. God had Liam specifically planned for us.

Not only do I know that in my heart, but I have two facts that help solidify it. First, the month that Rick and I began the adoption process is the same month that Liam was conceived! Second, BM went to the adoption agency for the first time on the same day that our eighth adoption fell through!

“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Amen!

The joy that filled my heart on April 30, 2003 was evident on my face. I don't think I put Liam down for hours, because I was finally a mommy!

Peanut will be 4 years old tomorrow. I can hardly believe that it's been four years. He has brought our entire family such joy and laughter. I love you, big boy!

Liam's Adoption Story Part I

It is time to share Liam’s adoption story. For those of you who are new to Cup Runneth Over, I have already shared Jack and Garrett’s adoption stories here and here. Every adoption seems to carry its own unique qualities, and one of my main goals with my blog is to share my boys’ stories in hopes to encourage someone out there to consider adoption as it is…a beautiful way of creating forever families.

As I’ve mentioned before, once Rick and I began the adoption process, we faced eight failed adoptions. In one case, we discontinued the adoption of a girl in Sierra Leone due to a shaky program that left us wondering if we would ever truly bring that child home. The other seven cases were all domestic adoptions, and the birth moms all decided to parent their babies.

The eighth failed adoption took place on March 28, 2003, and it was the straw that broke this camel’s back. I swore off adoption altogether that day. I didn't think that I could take another disappointment. Only I wasn’t able to say that I would be content without children for the rest of my life, and fertility treatments had already proven to fail us.

Rick and I holed ourselves up for that March weekend to grieve. I truly felt as if I had given birth to a still-born baby. The pain in my heart was very real. And I told Rick that I couldn’t do it anymore. I think he was ready to call it off, too, until he talked to his mom on Sunday.

My mother-in-law called to check on us. I overheard Rick telling his mom that he was really worried about my well-being. He was worried that I would never recover, and so was I, honestly.

My mother-in-law is the type of woman that enters the room, and everything immediately begins to liven up. She’s a take-charge, high-energy woman, and she attacks life with her whole heart. While on the phone with Rick that Sunday morning, March 30, 2003, she said, “That’s it. I’m calling my friend tomorrow. Her cousin owns an adoption agency in Louisiana, and I’ll see what they can do for you. I’m taking the bull by the horns.” When Rick told me about this part of the conversation, I rolled my eyes and said, “Yea, right.” I couldn’t help but be pessimistic. I had no other results to make me believe any differently.

On Monday, I drug my feet to work. I hated that job before I lost so many babies, but that was the absolute worst morning of my teaching career. I had quit this job the week before, in hopes of staying home with my new baby. But when that adoption fell through, I knew that I needed to work in order to keep my mind busy. My assistant principal was also an adoptive mom, so she understood my position and allowed my return to work. I remember going through the motions of that Monday morning with so much pain in my heart that I had to leave my classroom several times in order to breathe through the tears.

By about 9:30 that morning, Rick had called my cell phone twice and had left one message. I took a break to listen his message. I remember his words very well. "My mom talked to her friend and got in touch with the attorney in Louisiana. There’s a baby boy due in April. Do you want him? Call me.” Only I was so hurt and depressed that I couldn’t get excited. I called Rick back and said, “I don’t want him. He’s probably a white baby anyway.” (Our last few failed adoptions had all been black boys, so my heart was set on a black boy.) Rick said, “No, he’s black, just like you want. Let’s get him. I’ll do all the paperwork this time. You just have to say ‘yes’.” I told him to go ahead with it, but I swore that I wouldn’t get excited about this one.

Rick spent the rest of the day getting all of the paperwork in order. By dinner time, he had everything ready for my signature and needed nothing more from me. I was slowly beginning to come around and was beginning to smile again. We had my parents meet us for TexMex for dinner, because all celebrations call for chips and salsa! I remember filling my parents in on all the details, and my mom said, “I don’t know if I can get excited about this. We’ve been through so much.” My heart changed immediately, and I said, “Mom, I know exactly what you’re saying. I’ve felt that way all day, but I feel a peace in my heart that tells me to get excited. This baby deserves our hope.” And we all celebrated and giggled the evening away.

Baby Boy was due at the end of April, but Birthmom (BM) showed many signs of an earlier delivery date. We spent the next three weeks on pins and needles, just like any first-time expectant parents. In the end, BM needed to be induced for her well-being. We knew that we would be parents on April 25, 2003.

We went to work that day in order to stay busy, but I couldn’t tell you one thing about work that day! I know that I went to work, and I’m sure that I worked, being that I was at work, but that’s all I can remember. I carried my cell phone with me all day in hopes of getting the call announcing my baby’s birth. The call did not come until after 7:30 pm, but we remember the news very well.

Rick took the call from our social worker (SW).
SW: Rick, you’re a daddy. Congratulations! You have a baby boy. He’s 7 lbs. 3 oz. and 19 inches long.
Rick: Oh my gosh! What does he look like?
SW: He has lots of soft, curly hair. He’s tiny. He looks like a little peanut.

And that’s how Liam Edward became "Peanut".

Please join me tomorrow for the conclusion to Liam’s adoption story.

Pears and Prophecy

Four years ago this week, Rick and I painted this canvas. We were living in Colorado Springs at the time, and we had been home for a few days due to a blizzard. As soon as the roads were cleared, we were ready to get out of the house. We are not artists by any stretch of the imagination, so when Rick said that we should go to Hobby Lobby and pick up painting supplies, I thought he was crazy. But spontaneous he is, so off we went to buy supplies. Now, please don't ask me what type of paints or brushes we used. I have no clue! In fact, it took me ten minutes to remember the word "canvas" for the first sentence of this post.

I remember that we came home from Hobby Lobby and placed all of our newly bought supplies on the dining room table, and we looked at each other and said, "Now what?". We began making sketches on paper, and we liked how pears looked. We mixed paints and painted away, and the rest, as they say, is history. (Notice how I'm avoiding any great details on our artistic skills? Because we have none!)

Ever since that day, the painting has held an important place in our home. Part of the reason it holds such an important place in our house is because we're pretty darn proud of how it turned out. (Those of you who are truly artistic, please bear with me here. I know it's a rather elementary attempt at art.)

But there's another reason that we hang it so proudly. Two days after we failed to become Matisse or Picasso, we were set to become parents for the first time. However, that baby ended up being our eighth failed adoption. It was a very hard time for us, but three days later we found out about a baby boy due to be born in Louisiana. And that baby was Liam!

Stick with me here, because I'm sure I've confused you by now. About a month after the pear painting, we became parents to Liam. Fast forward another 21 months, and we became parents to Garrett. And three months later, we adopted Jack. Three babies in 25 months...yes, it was a whirlwind!

But think a little deeper here. Refer back to the pear painting, and "read" it from left to right...green, yellow, green. And our boys, by order of adoption...black, bi-racial, black. Prophetic, don't you think?