What a difference a week makes

Jeremy and I met Seth a week ago, today.  We knew he had been transferred to a mental institution in June.  Not because he was  mentally challenged, but because he was physically challenged.  We expected him to have regressed a bit and to be delayed due to living his life in orphanages.  We expected a 3-4 year old.  What we got blew us away. 

Very few of our initial pictures have me in them.  That's because in all of them, I look sad, concerned and like I was about to cry.  I was.  We learned that Seth had spent a better part of three months sitting in a wheelchair, All.  Day.  Long.  Just sitting.  No toys.  No play time.  No real interaction.  When we met Seth, he was unable to look us in the eye.  He would not track anything.  He would not even look towards a sound.  He couldn't feed himself at all.  He could not hold his own cup.  He did not know what to do with a hot wheel.  Or any other toy for that matter.  It didn't even occur to him to play with them.  He could not sit up unassisted.  He could not crawl or pull himself to a stand.  He hadn't talked in three months.  He licked everything.  It was like an extra appendage for him, taking in stimulation in any way possible.  Everything went to his mouth for closer inspection.  We spent an hour and a half with him, swinging and holding him.  Trying to get him to connect with us, acknowledge our presence, in any way.  Finally, he gave us a very brief look, and looked away.  He didn't seem to care when we arrived.  He didn't seem to register when we left.  Heart breaking. 

After a week's worth of visits and 35 hours spent with him, Seth has made remarkable progress.  He will now look at us and smile or laugh.  He won't maintain eye contact for very long though.  He is too busy looking around to be bothered.  :)  He will follow a toy as we roll it across the room.  He will even crawl after it.  He will look to see who has entered a room.  He can feed himself finger foods. He can even hold a plate and pick bites up, one at a time, rather than cramming them all in his mouth at once.  He can hold his own open mouth cup.  In fact, he has learned to blow bubbles, much to our dismay.  He finds this particularly amusing. 

He is playing more with toys.  His hand eye coordination is still a bit rocky.  He can't quite turn the pages of a book, but he tries.  He will easily reach out for a toy that he wants now.   He can sit with minimal assistance, although this is hard for him.  He can easily sit in a W position, and he can face backwards on a bench with his feet dangling down.  The fact that he has limited range of motion in his hips likely complicates sitting on the floor.  He crawls all over the place and will pull himself to a stand.  He cannot stand flat footed and Shriners will have to address that in order to get him walking. 

He makes lots of sounds now, including mmmmm when he likes his food.  Once he said mama.  And we think he babbled quite a bit in Ukrainian the other day, but we're not sure.  He was talking Ukrainian mumble again today.  We hope that they are actual words, but if not, he is at least making sounds.  He still licks some things, but not as much.  Now, he uses his hands to touch everything.  EvErYtHiNg.  He opens and shuts drawers and doors over and over again, touches walls as we pass, runs his hands over books.  He cannot touch enough.  He cannot drink it in fast enough.  He reaches up for us when we walk in every morning and he smiles and laughs when we say "priveet".  Yesterday, he cried when we left.  He knows when we come and go now, and more importantly, he cares. 

Five days ago, we took him behind the institution to see the farm and he really couldn't have cared less.  Today we took him again and he leaned forward to put his hands on the fence, eager to try to reach the cows and the chickens.  I held the puppy that he wouldn't acknowledge a few days ago and felt such happiness when he reached out and patted its head. 

We expected to meet a little boy much like the boy at the top of my blog.  Instead we found a very fragile, very traumatized toddler.  He was not starved for food.  He was starved for mental stimulation.  He was starved for love.  He was starved for a family.  He has one now.  And we are so excited to see what improvements tomorrow will bring.  :)

This boy is determined!

All I can say is WOW!!  Jeremy and I arrived at Seth's orphanage on Friday to find him... well.... not in good shape.  We quickly realized he'd been more or less sitting in his wheelchair for three months straight.  No floor time, no time with toys, no play time with other kids.  Just sitting and looking at other kids, sitting.  Heart breaking.  When he left his baby house he was sitting up unassisted, feeding himself, drinking from a cup, pulling himself to a stand.  All skills that were lost.  After we got over our shock, we got to work, and every day, this boy makes significant progress.  He is one determined little boy.  On Saturday, I had to teach him how to feed himself again.  By Sunday, he wouldn't let me help.  On Saturday, I placed his little hands on the sides of his cup.  On Sunday, he shooed my hands away and held his cup by himself.  He works each day on sitting up and is able to do it for longer and longer periods.  It's amazing how quickly your muscles will atrophy when not in use.  But today... today, he surprised us both.  Today, he crawled over to Jeremy, looked up, put his hands in Jeremy's hands, strengthened his resolve, mustered his energy, and without any assistant other than balance from Jeremy, did this:

He stood up.  After three months of being confined to a wheelchair, he stood up on his own.  Because he knew he could.  Because he wanted to show us he could.  This kid has persistance.  He. Won't. Give. Up! 

Meet Seth....

If you're our facebook friends, you've probably already seen these pictures, but just in case you aren't, we wanted to post a few pics of our high points of the past couple days.  We have been able to meet Seth and have started the processes to finalize his adoption and build those bridges to help him start from where he's at and move forward.  There is much work to be done.  Institutionalization is never a good way to raise a child.  As we expected, he is delayed in every way, some more significant than others.  We were prepared for this.  We went into this with our eyes wide open.  We are re-claiming our son, back from institutionalized life, and it will be hard work, but he is worth it.  A child is always, always worth it.

Seth loves to cuddle.  He loves physical touch.  He is such a sweet, sweet little boy.  We will have many hours of snuggles with this little guy! 

Whoa, can this kid put down some food!!

Yummy food, followed by yummy apple juice!

It's okay, sweet little man.  We've got you now.

Ukrainian culture and the SDA

But first, a couple more apartment shots.  I want to show you the tiny washer and the cute kitchen.  Really, it is pretty charming.  I think the kitchen is my favorite room.  But it is small.  Bedroom/ living room, bathroom and kitchen.  That's all.  Fine for Jeremy and I but consider that Ukrainians live in places this small, with their whole families.  This isn't a hotel the way we envision hotels.  Lots of tenants buy or rent these and live here year round.  Some, like ours, are rented out on an individual bases.  Whoever lives in them are responsible for upkeep and improvements, so even though the halls and elevators are pretty old, the apartments themselves can be very nice.  It depends on who live in them and how they decorate and care for it. 

So here's the bathroom, with the washer.  Imagine doing the laundry I usually have to do at home.... 

And the kitchen.  The stove scares me.  It's gas.  The first night, I was going to be ambitious and cook.  Jeremy grabbed the lighter and turned on the gas and I envisioned the whole place going up in flames.  I quickly decided that maybe sandwiches would be a better dinner option.  Oiy! 

Ukraine has many beautiful cathedrals.  Here is one of them.  It may be famous.  I have no idea.  :)

Quaint cobblestone roads line much of the town, especially the downtown area:

Ukrainians are CrAzY drivers.  They drive on sidewalks too, and park anywhere.  They double park, park on sidewalks, will stop in the middle of the road.  It's a little insane!  This is a typical parking area:

Properally dubbed "Russ-bucks" by another adopting family, this little cafe is quite the happening spot:

Steet musicians in traditional Ukrainian garb:

Lots and lots of street vendors in the downtown area.  I'll have to spend more time looking when I don't have a facilitator needing us to hurry back.  :)

A sweet little group of babuskas allowed me to take their picture.  Once again, in more traditional Ukrainian clothing. 

Another pretty (and probably famous) cathedral:

Judging from the amount of security surrounding this building, Jeremy and I assumed it was fairly important.  Turns out it's the Department of Foreign Ministry. 

More crazy Ukrainian parking.  Now I know why our facilitators have us use drivers...

Street vendors line the street where the SDA building is.  Probably because foreigners (i.e. tourists) line the SDA building:

Sign at the SDA building.  I find it somewhat humorous (and a little sad) that orphans are lumped in with sports:

Side gate you go through to get to the office:

Through this door:

Up those stairs:

We had a pic of us with our facilitator, Serge, but it's not on the camera.  Friends of ours took one of us too, as a back up.  Thank goodness they did.  I'll add that later.  Until then, here's a pic of our dinner....  fine, traditional Ukrainian cuisine.  :)

Later today, we pick up our referral and make a very long drive to his region.  Today is the last day our little boy will not know that we love him.  That someone loves him.  From tomorrow forward, he'll never be lonely again. 

Our visit to Ukraine, first installment of pictures

I think I can now say we're in Ukraine.  :)  In fact, we are in the great city of Kiev.  Tomorrow, we leave to go to Seth's region, so today, before and after our SDA appt, we walked around and saw the beauty and culture surrounding this city.  It's old.  It's not uncommon for our driver to point to a building and say it's 1,000 years old.  1,000 years.  The US hasn't even been a country that long, and they have buildings still standing from that era.  It's a city ripe with history and I love that!  I cannot get enough of people watching.  It's an interesting culture.  Everyone drinks and smokes.  We stick out like a sore thumb.  The buildings are old style soviet union block housing.  Everyone lives in apartments.  We have yet to see a house.  The outside and inside of the apartment complexes are usually run down, decaying.  But the inside of each apartment is owned by a tenant and can be much nicer.  Ours is a modest apartment.  It's served our needs. 

This is a view of the outside of our apartment:

The hall and elevators:

Our front door:

Our living room/ bedroom/office

Our kitchen:

We have a washer in the bathroom.  Yes, you read that right.  Here is our dryer: 

This is very common.  We see clothes lines drying all over town.  Lots and lots of towels and sheets. 

These next three are pics of our view from our window:

Coming up next, some of the culture, magnificent cathedrals and the SDA building. 

Because of Dakota

Here we sit, in country, waiting to rescue our little boy.  A boy who's waited for six long years.  And make no mistake.  This is a rescue.  Today, I read through all the adoption news that I had missed and came to this:

Dakota.  A sweet little boy, born with delays, assigned to live out his life in a mental institution.  I've known about Dakota for several months.  I learned today, he died while waiting for someone to come get him.  He was eight.  This hurts my heart.  I've seen pics and I'm pretty sure I know what he died from, and it sure wasn't his mental delays.  How can you love a little boy from clear around the world, and cry when you learn they've died a horrible, lonely, hungry, desperate death?  But I do.  Because I love children. 

This little boy is in the same orphanage that Dakota was in:

Nolan has flat feet.  Incredible, huh?  Why hasn't he found a family?  Please, please, please, someone go get this little boy.  Nolan is seven and doesn't deserve this.  We'd go get him but he's too far away from Seth, requiring a seperate dossier and a lot more money.  Yes, we've talked about it and looked into what we'd need to do.  That's how badly I know he needs out of there.  Don't let what happened to Dakota happen to Nolan. 

These kids are real children, and they need families.  If we can do this, you can do this too.  We're proof you don't have to be rich or have the perfect family.  They don't need rich or perfect.  They just need you.  Consider what your family can do to help a little boy.  A little boy like Nolan.  He is a child of God and he needs help.  He needs a family.  He needs you. 

Here is Nolan's link on Reeces Rainbow.  Please consider saving Nolan. 

http://reecesrainbow.org/nolan117

How do you know you're ready?

When the only thing left on your to-do list is to re-paint your toe nails and copy your taxes.  :)

It's time.  A process that should have taken us eight to nine months will be done in five.  I believe there's a reason for that.  I believe it's because he needs us that bad.  Bad enough to move mountains, speed up slow moving governmental entities and allow us to slide in under the wire of so many cut offs and delays.  We have truly been blessed.  There is no way it could have gone this fast if we were merely acting on our own.  Further proof that Seth belongs here, with us.  Now. 

In just a few days, Jeremy and I will board the biggest plane we've ever flown on, to fly fourteen hours to get to our son, to tell him he finally has something no child should ever be denied- a family.  By this time next week, we will have our referral in hand and will be on our way to his region, to tell him that against all odds, we found him, and we're bringing him home. 

The hardest part is yet to come, and we know that.  Being away from our children will be difficult.  I already miss them so bad I ache.  I've never been away from my children for this long.  The only time I've been away for longer than a weekend was when my dad died, and then, Jeremy was here. 

Traveling home for fourteen hours with an orphan will be difficult.  Keeping any child entertained and happy for that long is hard.  Doing it solo, with a little boy who is fresh out of an institution, who will be traumatized and homesick, who is a virtual stranger, who speaks a different language and has CP will be grueling.  That's an understatement. 

Integrating him into our home will be challenging and at times, frustrating.  He's been neglected in every way possible.  Kids are resilient, and Jeremy and I are tough, but we are in for the challenge of a lifetime.  We know that.  We will need to learn to navigate the waters of trust issues, bonding, cerebral palsy, therapies, IEP's and advocating like crazy for a child who needs us. 

We have so much to learn.  And Seth needs us to hit the ground running.  So we will.  Remember that we never said this would be easy.  We're not doing it because it's easy.  It's not.  We're doing it because it's so darn worthwhile.  Because he's worth it.  Because his right to a family, to love, to therapy, to an education, is far more important than our right to an easy life. 

Please, please keep our family in your prayers while we meet him, discover who he is, and learn how to best help him.  Pray that his heart will be prepared for us, that he will trust quickly and easily, that he will feel peace.  Pray that Jeremy and I will have that parental intuition with him right from the start, that as he and I pray together, that we will be led to know what's right for Seth, a child we barely know.  Pray that we will have wisdom, compassion and above all, faith- faith in Heavenly Father, in His plan, a plan that we don't always understand.  Faith in a little boy who is stronger than me and has already overcome more than I can comprehend- rejection, abandonment, institutionalization, neglect.  Faith that if he's overcome this much, he will overcome so much more once given a chance, love, a home and a family. 

Believe in him.  Believe in this little boy.  He has so much to teach us.  This little boy is going to amaze us all!  I know that.  I know that way down deep in my soul.  He is going to change the very fabric of our family, in so many good ways.  In a year, we are going to wonder how we ever made it this far without Seth.

Welcome to the next phase of our journey....  :)

Ten

There's a little boy on the other side of the world, who is sitting in a crib right now.  Because he can't yet walk, they won't let him play on the floor.  It's part of their culture. It's likely he's not walking because they won't let him out of the crib to strengthen his muscles.  Vicious cycle.  He may or may not have any toys to play with.  Depends on whether the caregivers thought to give him any.  He might just sit there, looking at the walls.  Thinking. 

He's watching the door.  Wondering if today could be the day.  He's wondering where his mama and papa are.  When they will come to rescue him.  And tonight, he will go to bed, disappointed again.  He'll wake up tomorrow, and repeat it all.  Sit, hope, watch, wonder, disappointment, sleep.  It's been his life every day for six years now.  And that would be his future too.  No education, no therapy, no possibility of a job, marriage, family.  Just a crib.  And the walls.  And disappointment.  How much sadness can one little boy's heart handle? 

In a week and a half, we will fly out to get him.  To rescue him from his crib, from his life.  We will give him what he needs.  A family, so much love, an education, therapy, hope, a future.  In two weeks, we'll walk through the orphanage door and he will be brought to us.  As he is brought down the hall, he still won't know what's going on.  He won't know til he enters the room and is told.  He'll be told that today, he's been chosen.  That today, his mama and papa came.  That he's coming to America.  He'll know he now has a mama and a papa, six siblings, a big house, a school, therapy, a church, and more toys than he's ever seen in his life.  And absolutely no crib in sight.  I can't imagine what thoughts will race through his head, what emotions, what hope, and yes, what fear.  Can there be any greater joy for a child? 

Two thousand, two hundred and seventy four days spent in a crib. 

Ten more to go.  Just ten more.