Being that yesterday was Jack's birthday, we decided to have a day of fun activities. Shortly after breakfast, we piled into our van and headed to the Dallas World Aquarium. I thought Jack would enjoy running around and looking at the variety of animals, but no. He had a sour face most of the two hours we were there, and he wanted to be carried most of the way.
Then, we headed to El Fenix for lunch. Jack would normally devour anything edible put in front of him, but not yesterday. He fussed through much of the meal. He managed to smile twice when the waitress brought him a sopapilla covered with strawberries and whip cream. Twice.
He fell asleep on the way home, so I'll credit his "mood" with fatigue. Yes, he's two years old, but he would still take a morning nap if I allowed it in our schedule.
But did he continue his nap at home? Heck, no! He decided that his 40-minute snooze in the car was ample. I thought otherwise and left him in his bed until the scheduled time.
He was a grump during dinner, too. In fact, he had to go to time-out for one of his I-can't-believe-you-told-me-no fits, when we told him that he couldn't have his cupcake until the entire family had finished eating dinner. (These fits can also be described as a shrill, breathless scream that leaves one wondering if Jack's toenails are being pulled out. But, in fact, his toe nails are all accounted for to this day.)
Finally, everyone had ample time to eat dinner, so we pulled out the cupcakes and candles. Voila! Jackson became happy!
Here is the epiphany...feed birthday boys their cupcakes with breakfast so that everyone can enjoy a happy boy all day.
An Epiphany
Jack's Adoption Story, Part IV
When I began writing Jack's story, I had no idea how long it would take me. I also had no idea how healing this would be for me. My heart was pulled too many different directions along the way of his adoption journey. Although I thought that I had made peace with all of the details, writing this has shown me otherwise. Thank you for allowing me this healing process. This is the last installment of his story, and I truly appreciate your readership! (For those who are just tuning in, you can catch up with Parts I-III here, here and here.)
I must admit that I did not call Rick first with the news of Jack's adoption saga take three. I paced the floor at first. Then, I called a friend and our trustworthy caseworker for advice. They both listened to everything I had to say, but they each asked me one important question, "Why haven't you called Rick?" Gulp. I hung up, said a prayer, and called Rick. I told him of Shelly's call, and he immediately said, "When can we get him?" And that's why I was nervous to call Rick. Because he knew how badly we wanted Jack, and I knew he would want to jump in right away. But I didn't feel right about accepting the offer immediately. I felt that we needed to wait 48 hours and pray. That we did.
During that time of prayer, we also played the what-if game. What if we don't take him? Will we ever be able to forgive ourselves? What if we do adopt him? How crazy will life be with a two year-old and two newborns only 26 days apart?! In the meantime, we also talked to Shelly a couple of times to ensure that she was in close contact with BM this time. During one of those calls, we found out that BM had named him Jer'miah. Now, you must know that my all-time favorite scripture is Jeremiah 29:11. " '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.' " (NIV) I was "sold" on the idea of adopting Jack when I heard his birth-given name. This is exactly what God meant when he told me that He had it all under control.
BM followed through with her promises this time, the third time around. We saw our baby boy for the first time on May 1, 2005 at 8:30 pm. He was nearly 4 months old. He looked at us with his big eyes and his 'fro, as if to say, "Hey, where y'all been?"
When Liam saw him for the first time, I said, "Liam, who is this?" He replied with the biggest smile, "Jack!" And Jack kicked his legs and grinned. That made every moment of the on-again, off-again journey worthwhile to me. We did this to keep these brothers together, and they knew each other instantly.
The next few months were tough. In fact, the next year was the most difficult year of my life. I won't go into great detail, but Jack came to us with signs of neglect. He had reflux that had gone untreated and left him vomiting 40-50 times a day. His nails were so long that they wrapped under his fingers. His hair was so dirty that I cried and became sick to my stomach during every bath for days. But the saddest part was that Jack didn't know how to be loved, and we had to fight his detachment issues from the get-go. I really wondered if he would ever love us. But he does!
God brought us through a lot! From what seemed like the pits of hell to the mountaintops! Now, do you see why my cup runneth over?
Happy 2nd birthday, Jackson Jeremiah!
Jack's Adoption Story, Part III
Thank you for sticking with me on this journey. I told you it was quite an adventure! If you're just stopping in, please see Part I and Part II of Jack's story before picking up today's post. Let's see if I can keep my tears to a minimum. I promise it has a happy ending!
When Rick said it was time to go home, I knew he was right. It hurt worse than any of the other failed adoptions combined, but I knew my husband, the head of my home, was right. It was time to move on. We tried to fly home that day, as well as the next two days, but seats were limited due to the holidays. Finally, by December 26, we couldn't stand it any longer, so we rented a car and drove home. We did our best to remain tear-free in front of Liam, because once the tears began, there were flood gates, and he was too young (20 months) to understand any of it. We made it home that evening, and I went straight to my bed and cried for what was probably hours.
I don't remember the next several days at all. I know that I got up each day and tried to tell myself and everyone else that I was okay, but I continued to question God. "Why in the world are You making me go through this again?!" I remember He very plainly spoke to me in one of my crying fits. He said, "Trust me. I've got you."
By January 8, we were weary, and we knew it was time to make a very important phone call. I actually made this call myself. It had to be me. "Shelly, I need to know how much of our account has not been used and when we can expect to receive a check for that amount. It's time that we move on." Silence fell over the phone. In my mind, I began to panic thinking that all of our money had somehow been used. But Shelly spoke very quietly with this: "She called me yesterday, Ami. I wasn't going to call you until I had more info. She had the baby January 6th, and she still wants to place him with you. She's bringing him tomorrow. I wasn't going to call you until I had him in my arms. She said that her family was pressuring her, and she just needed some time." I was speechless. Was this really happening? Because in the meantime, Rick had found out about three other baby boys that needed to be adopted, and we were ready to make a decision that day. Shelly continued with, "I don't know what you want to do. I know she's put you through a lot. If you want to go ahead with another adoption, I'll send your check tomorrow." No, no, no! Jack was mine back in July when I found out about him! He's Liam's flesh and blood. I couldn't turn him down!
We made plans to drive from Colorado to Louisiana with Liam and my parents to claim our baby. We were ecstatic, to say the least. BM was due to sign relinquishment papers at 2:00 on January 10. 2:00 came and went. No BM. 2:30, 3:00, and so on. At 4:30, I knew she wasn't going to show. Shelly, once again, couldn't reach her by phone. We remained calm and hopeful throughout the evening. At bedtime, I told Rick that he and I were going to the office at 8:30 the next morning. I don't know what I wanted to accomplish through that, but it was one of those moments where I had to do something.
We did exactly that the next morning. Shelly met us at the door with the look that told me everything I needed to know. Without words, she told me that BM had not called or come in. I held my chin up and said, "Then we need you to return our money." And we returned to the hotel to retrieve our one beautiful child, my grieving parents, and our luggage. We were on the road quickly and planned to drive as far as we could in order to get home as soon as possible. The car was quiet, except for mine and my mom's sobs. As I tried to calm down in the back seat, I felt God's presence. He kept me warm, literally warm. Again, He reminded me that he had me in His arms. And I sat up, and said to Rick with absolute assurance, "We need to call the agency in Oklahoma and tell them that we want that bi-racial baby."
[This is where Garrett's story begins. I don't want to leave you hanging, so I will tell you that we went straight to Oklahoma and met Garrett's BM, who delivered three weeks later. Garrett was brought to me within 20 minutes of his birth, and he's been ours ever since! Praise be to God!]
From January 10 to April 2005, our lives were complete chaos. Not only did we lose Jack a second time, but we adopted a newborn, sold our Colorado house, and moved to Texas. Our Colorado house sold so quickly that we had to live with my parents and my in-laws for three-week stints each, until our new home was ready. We were able to move into our new house on April 17, and were so relieved to have a place to call home. We finally felt settled, ahh the relief!
Ring, ring. April 26. "Hi, Ami, it's Shelly." Oh. My. Word. You cannot be calling me, because you don't call me to shoot the breeze! "Hi, Shelly. I'm feeling sick to my stomach. Should I be sitting down?" The conversation went something like this: "BM called and says she's ready to relinquish. She says that she's got uterine cancer and is having a hysterectomy in two days. Now, I don't know how much to believe her. She may be saying that just to pull at your heart. I know you have a newborn, so you can say no, but I wanted to call you first."
Rick was out of town. Liam turned 2 the day before. Garrett was 12 weeks old. We had just moved. "Shelly, I need to think and pray. This is Liam's blood brother. Can I wait a couple days to give you an answer?"
I promise that part IV will be the final installment of the Jackson saga. It will appear tomorrow. See you then! Yes, it's a happier installment!
Jack's Adoption Story, Part II
Thank you for joining me for the second part of Jack's story. If you're just joining in, you can read part I here.
A couple weeks after we told Shelly that we were absolutely interested in adopting Liam's blood sibling, BM's sonogram showed that she was carrying a boy. We were delighted to think that Liam would have a baby brother. I immediately knew that his name would be Jack.
We began preparing our hearts and our home for baby Jack's December due date. In September, we received a phone call from Shelly informing us that BM was having some premature labor. The doctor was able to stop her labor, but she was going to need a procedure to stitch her cervix in order to prolong the inevitable. (I'm sorry I don't know the name of the surgery. Those who have carried babies probably know what I'm talking about. But I've never carried a child, and there are some medical terms that I would rather not know.) In addition, BM would need to be on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy. And, oh, by the way, she asked for more money, because she couldn't work from the couch, and she was trying to buy one-half acre for her mobile home.
In my original post, I told you that we have been through eight failed adoptions. These failed adoptions all occurred before we adopted Liam. Most of these babies fell through our hearts as a result of birth moms deciding to parent. Birth moms have the most difficult sacrifice to make when they place their very own flesh and blood up for adoption, so my heart goes out to anyone out there who has ever had to make that decision. But I also must admit that because we had so many birth moms change their minds, and because Liam's BM begged for more money 24 hours before his placement, that I could only be so sympathetic when she asked for more money as a result of being bed-ridden. Rick and I agreed that, although we were very concerned for BM's condition, we could not pay her any additional funds.
Although I knew that this surgical procedure was relatively minor and common, I could not rest. I now look back on that time and recognize that the Holy Spirit was speaking to me and trying to prepare me for a rough road ahead. BM did go through with the out-patient surgery without any complications, and for that we were grateful. But even then, I could not relax. We were, however, able to make it through the next couple of months without any mishaps.
In early December, Shelly called to let us know that the doctor was going to induce labor on December 20th. We were thrilled, because we knew that we would hold Jack for the first time on Christmas morning, as a result of Louisiana's five-day relinquishment period. As we were living in Colorado at the time, we made plans to head to Texas to visit family for the five-day waiting period. On December 20th, we tried to stay very busy with our extended family, and we even went house hunting, since we knew that we would be moving back to Texas shortly.
By lunch, we hadn't received a single phone call from Shelly. We had been told that BM was to arrive at the doctor's office early that morning, and since this was her fourth delivery, we fully expected this to go quickly. I was getting very nervous, and I made Rick call for an update. Shelly reported that BM called to say that the doctor's office was unexpectedly closed. I immediately knew that it was happening again. Call it my mother's intuition or whatever you like, but I knew that this was yet another adoption gone wrong. What clinic schedules an inducement and then closes its doors without any explanation? Shelly made many attempts to reach BM by phone that afternoon, yet BM couldn't be found. Shelly was able to contact the doctor's office, and they reported that BM simply didn't show up. My "gut" told me it was over, but my heart held out hope.
We remained in Texas for the next few days. Each day, I would phone all of the hospitals in BM's area to see if she had arrived and/or given birth. With each of those calls, I pretended to be a concerned friend, and with each call, my heart dropped a little further to hear that she was still "missing". After a day or two of that, I began to not only fear that Jack was no longer mine, but I also worried that perhaps BM was roaming the streets. Maybe her family was pressuring her to keep the baby, and she was confused, and she went on a walk and got lost, and.... In my heart of hearts, however, I knew that she would eventually give birth and end up in a hospital somewhere, so I continued my twice-daily phoning ritual and prayer vigil.
By December 24, I had had enough. I remember talking on the phone with my dad and not being able to hold myself together any longer. I stayed strong for four days, because I didn't want Rick to say it was over. Because once he said that, we would have to return to our home where there was an empty nursery. But I just couldn't hold it together any longer when my dad began to tell me how sorry he was. My parents had been through every single failed adoption with us, and they felt the pain right along with us. I remember sobbing into the phone, "I don't know why God thinks I can go through this again. I think eight times is enough! I can't do this again!" And at that, I dropped the phone and fell into a heap. I don't even remember ending the conversation or hanging up the phone. The next thing I remember is Rick picking me up and holding me. We cried together for what was probably the umpteen-millionth time. And then he said it. "We need to go home."
Jack's Adoption Story, Part I
I've promised you in the Coming Soon section of my sidebar that I would share each of my boy's adoption stories. As I've also said here, I'm a woman of my word, so I am sitting down today to begin Jack's story. I begin with Jack because his birthday is this Saturday, January 6th. I hope you'll stick around for its entirety. I will probably need to post in multiple entries, because I will shed a few tears while sharing this adventure with you. It has been quite an adventure!
Which one is Jack, you ask? He's this one. He's also the one in the middle of the photo on my sidebar.
In January 2004, I had a dream that Liam's birth mom (BM) called to tell us that she was pregnant yet again and wanted us to parent the baby. Liam was only 9 months at the time, so I wondered how this dream would work its way through my life. You see, God has this way of speaking to me through my dreams. My dreams often come true, and God prepares my heart and mind for their truth in advance of their reality. I remember telling my husband and parents about this dream the very next day. They each gave me a nervous giggle, because they know all too well how my dreams often work.
Fast forward six months to July 2004. I'm in my basement, just finishing my work-out. Liam is napping. Rick is at work. Ring, ring, ring, ring. I forgot to carry the phone to the basement, and my legs couldn't carry me upstairs fast enough to catch the phone. I waited long enough for a message to go through. "Hi, Rick and Ami. This is Shelly from John Doe's office. Would you please call me when you get a chance?" [Names changed to protect the innocent.] My mind begins to race, my heart to flutter, because I know that Shelly-from-John-Doe's office doesn't call to merely shoot the breeze. She only calls with earth-shattering adoption news, as she is the legal secretary to the attorney we used for Liam's adoption. Gulp.
I begin to dial the number, but I can't do it. I just can't. Click. Instead, I dial Rick's cell phone and tell him about the message. He's quiet at first, but then he manages to speak calmly. "I'll call her. It's probably nothing." We hang up, and I begin to pace the floor. I call my mom and tell her about the message. She tries to tell me it's probably nothing, but then I remind her of that dream. She says something like, "Well, let's just wait and see. Don't get your hopes up." Okay, breathe, sit down, take it easy. Drum fingers. Heart is still pounding in my ears. Ring, ring. It's Rick. "Shelly says that BM has called. She's pregnant and wants to know if we're interested in adopting again." Are we? Yes, yes, we are! Call her back, while I do the wow-God-is-awesome dance.
Works-For-Me Wednesday: Candy Jar
This edition of WFMW is multi-purposed. Let me say that I am all about healthy eating, but there are certain occasions that call for candy. Celebration, gluttony, and PMS survival are the top three reasons for keeping those calorie-laden items around in my opinion. But now that it's January, and I have a few pounds to drop, let me tell you why we'll keep the candy jar in our house...bribery!
Liam gets 2 Skittles when he wakes up with dry underwear. He also gets an additional Skittle if he stays in his bed all night without finding his way to my bedroom. Three Skittles have brought much better sleep to my husband and me, because we don't fret over Liam wetting the bed, nor do we awaken at 5 am with his dark shadow in our doorway. Liam knows that we'll come to get him at the appropriate time, and if he's dry, he begins the day with a treat.
Now for the second purpose of this WFMW post...I realize that many of us have sworn off sweets for the new year in hopes to drop those extra pounds that creeped up on us during the holidays. In honor of New Year's resolutions, here is a quick tip for staying out of the candy jar.
Yes, it is merely a Post-it Note that says, "No, No, Mommy!" I realize that some of you might need a padlock for your candy jars, but if you're like me, you just need a friendly little reminder that the holidays are over, and it's time to watch those "waisted" calories. If you need a padlock, then go buy one at Wal Mart. But heaven forbid, do not throw the candy away. Use it for bribery!
And another thing.... Notice that my candy jar has a lid. Candy dishes are way too tempting for me. There must be a lid that requires me to slow down for two seconds to ask myself, "Do I really want to do this?"
For more helpful tips, go see Shannon's place.
Big Sigh of Relief
Sigh of relief. We are back to our normal routine around here. My hubby went back to work today. The boys and I have stuck close to home to enjoy one another's company. We're on our normal schedule. And my type-A personality couldn't be happier! Holidays and vacations are wonderful, but there's something to be said about returning to the norm.
And Liam (3 1/2) is ready for Easter. He asked me this morning if it's time to hunt Easter eggs. Um, no! Let's get through Jack's birthday this weekend, Garrett's birthday in February, Spring Break in March, and then we can talk Easter eggs, Bubba. But for now, please let me relish in the fact that the holiday rush is over. Sigh of relief...again.
