Happy Birthday, Super E!

Today is my son's birthday!!!!!!

My Super E is 6 years old!!!!!!

  

(Gosh.....)

  

He's my big-blue-eyed, freckle-faced, Angry-Birds-playing, Lego-fanatic, Ninjago-obsessed, Wii-loving, dog-crazy, freakishly-ambidextrous, almost-done-with-kindergarten boy.

My friend Cecilia recently celebrated her adorable son's 1st birthday and in her celebratory blog post, she wrote her son's birth story.  I thought it only fitting that I should capture my Super E's big day in written word as well before even I forget the details.

We went to church Sunday morning before E was born.  We sat in our usual seats - the very last row, on the aisle in case my husband needed to exit for a staff need, or a building or security concern - and before service started, his boss came up and asked how we were doing.  With a hand on my shoulder he asked if we were ready for baby #2 to come the very next day.  I wanted to bawl my eyes out right then and there.  I was scared out of my mind.

I wasn't scared for the c-section.

I wasn't scared to be in the hospital.

I was a bit scared to leave my oldest for the first time overnight ever.  I'm just one of those moms who can't be away from her babies.  Feels like the worst wrong ever to be away from my kids.  It feels unnatural.  That's just me and how I'm wired up.

What had me on the edge of hysterics was that I feared that I couldn't possibly love a second child as much as I loved my first.  I knew it was irrational, but I can't tell you how real those feelings were, friends.  I didn't think it humanly possible to love more or to have enough love to share.  I felt like my second child would get less of me because my heart already belonged to another sweet boy.  Before my second child was even born I was already feeling mommy-guilt that I wouldn't be able to give my child what he/she needed.

My mom and stepdad arrived that night and my fears were calmed without even talking about it.  The simple presence of my mom made everything feel right.  I knew my oldest would be in good hands and I slept well that final night.

Monday morning leaving for the hospital.

Early Monday morning before sunrise Jay and I loaded up the car after I had placed a dozen or so "I Love You" post-it notes around the house for my oldest boy to find when he woke up.  We checked into the hospital and I was set up in a room for all my pre-op details.  My doctor arrived and said her hellos.  Before long I was in the OR and getting my spinal epidural for the c-section.  Jay came in as the nurses continued prepping everything and before I knew it I was numb and ready for the birth of my baby.

The smell of the cauterization made me nauseous like I had never known before and the anesthesiologist was quick to open up a package of alcohol wipes for me to smell instead and that did the trick.  Nausea averted.  Despite the spinal epidural I felt pain.  Sharp pain, not just the feeling of pressure like the doctor and nurses suggested.  I began to feel very anxious that they weren't listening to me and instead putting words into my mouth.  Sharp pain is way different than pressure!  Way different!  I insisted as I fought off tears and I was given more meds in my epidural and eventually the pain did subside into just pressure and I felt relief.

In surgery, excited to meet my baby.

At 8:24 a.m. my child was born.  "It's a boy!"  Before I even saw him we had a boy name picked out and announced it to the crew in the OR.  My son was taken over to the exam table to be cleaned and examined.  7 pounds and 15 ounces.  21 inches long.  I heard his first cries immediately.  It wasn't long before I saw my son, swaddled in blankets, face to face as I was being stitched up.

Oh, for the love of boys!

Whoa!  Looking into my son's face I immediately saw my father-in-law's face.  The dimpled chin was a dead giveaway.   I was in the recovery room for about an hour before I was in my private room where I could call my mom to give her the news of her newest grandson.

But Super E's story doesn't end there because although he was healthy, he struggled in those first few days in the hospital.  All babies lose some weight in those first days of life as they wait for the mother's milk supply to come in.  Mine didn't want to comply with E's needs and he lost too much weight.  Shortly after 3:00 a.m. one morning the nurses came in and handed me a bottle of formula and told me to give it to my son.  There was no discussion, no explanation, just a rude, "Here.  Give this to him."  I was infuriated at how rudely my nurses treated me and how little they wanted to talk to me about my wishes and my son's needs.  Instead I nursed my son and waited for the pediatrician to arrive later in the morning to discuss the matter.

Oh, how I loved Dr. Davis!  He explained everything to me kindly, told me it was only temporary that my son would need formula and that my body would catch up.  The doctor's bedside manner with a tearful, hormonal mommy and a concerned daddy was outstanding!  He kissed my son on the back of his light brown haired head and laid him back down in the bassinet.

Thus began days, weeks and months of trying to get my body to do what I knew it could do.  The pediatrician worked with the nurses to agree to a French feeding tube taped to my pinky finger, attached to a syringe with formula that I would dispense into my son's mouth.  And I would continue to attempt nursing.

My beautiful baby boy!

We went home and I began a triple feeding schedule.  I nursed my son with as much as I possibly could, then I supplemented with formula in the syringe/tube system, then I had to pump and store milk to get my supply up to normal levels.  In between I had to take my baby to the pediatrician to meet regularly with the lactation consultant.  On my off days I had to take my son to a local organization called Milkworks to weigh my son regularly to be sure he was gaining weight and not losing.

Friends, it was exhausting!  I felt like I always had a baby attached to me 24/7.  I felt like a complete failure for not being able to provide my darling son with everything he needed.  I was so busy and never had a chance to rest and recover.  It was hard to find time to wash my pump and feeding tube much less spend time with my oldest son or get any light housework done.  I certainly didn't feel like I received the 2 weeks surgical recovery that I needed.  I couldn't rest and relax.  I was always busy, always going somewhere with a baby attached to me.  I cried nightly to my husband that I just wanted to be able to put my son down.  This went on for 3 whole, long, tiring, exasperating months before my son had regained the weight he lost and caught up to a healthy size and my body could do the rest.

E's 1st birthday 2008!

In hindsight, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.  The physical attachment that I had with my son in those first 3 months of his life led us to a super-bond that we still share today.  He and I are so close even 6 years later.  To use the term "mama's boy" doesn't even describe it.  He is my heart and soul and we made it through a tough trial together.

2nd birthday at the mall in Lincoln.

3rd birthday at home in Lincoln.

E's 4th birthday 2011 - not exactly as planned.
Party cancelled due to my emergency gall bladder surgery.
Dad in California with a new job.
Staying in Nebraska with Mom trying to sell the house.

E's 5th birthday - 2012 in the trailer in California
right after Jay lost his job and just before we'd leave for Texas
and I'd head to China.

He is my snuggler, my cuddler.  He still wants mommy and he still loves to sleep in our bed on weekends, snuggling right next to me, often with his feet up on my legs like I'm some sort of human ottoman, his arm also wrapped around my neck like a snake.  I love every minute of it while it will last because I know the days are coming when he'll want little to do with his mom. 

I had no idea of the capacity of my own heart to love.

I adore this boy!  

Head over heels in love!

Super E this morning on his 6th birthday!

Happy 6th birthday, Super E!  
I love you, forever 
and ever 
and ever!

Love, 

Mommy



Me and my birthday boy!

A Photo Treasure

Picture in your mind the image of a woman walking down a dirty, dusty road.  Perhaps it is under the dark cover of night.  Perhaps it's in the wee hours of the morning just before sunrise.  Maybe it's even in broad daylight.  Imagine this woman comes to the gate of a building, a locked door and long brick walls that forbid any passersby to peek inside.  Picture that woman coming to that wall, that gate and leaving a package by the door.

These days we don't like unattended packages left out in public, do we?

This woman sets down her package carefully on the ground outside the gate.  Does she stop and think? Or does she scurry away as fast as she can?  Does she look back wondering if she made the right decision?  Or does she press on, boldly going forward, never turning an eye back towards the gate?  Does she cry?  Does she mourn?  Is she sorry?  Is she convicted?  Is she angry at the circumstances that seemingly forced her to make such a decision?  Is her heart crushed to smithereens?  Or could she be completely numb fully believing that she simply must do what she must do?

That unattended package was my daughter.  

On what adoptive parents call "Finding Day," my Quiet Tiger was found at the gate of the orphanage.  There could hardly be a more perfect place for her to be left.  I've wondered about that day and how it went for the woman whose daughter I'm raising as my own.

This past week I received 2 photos from a new Facebook friend whose child also came from the same orphanage years ago.  My new friend had 2 pictures of the exterior of the orphanage, including the very gate where my daughter was left by her birthmom and found by orphanage staff.  I had never seen any pictures of this location before.

The Yulin, Shaanxi Children's Welfare Institute Gate.

The photo is simply a treasure to me.

My daughter will one day have many questions.  She'll wonder why her mom gave her up after 2 whole loving months together.  She'll wonder what forced her to make such an agonizing choice to give up a precious child.  She'll wonder if her mom thinks of her.

I won't have answers.

But the question of, "Where did she leave me?  Where was I found?" has been answered.  And that's a very nice piece of the puzzle to have!

It was a sad place.  

The place of agonizing loss.  

But it is also a beautiful place 

for it is the place where my Quiet Tiger's 

story of redemption 

begins.

Easter Episodes

We saw some very strange behavior out of our Quiet Tiger over Easter.

My mom and stepdad visited from Chicago and we had a wonderful time seeing the sites of San Antonio, shopping for things that would turn our house into a home, spending time coloring with the kids, making a delicious Easter meal and attending church.

My Quiet Tiger adores her Grandpa Rand!

The Saturday before Easter we made a run to Costco.  It was our first visit here in San Antonio because it's not exactly in my neighborhood, but I love Costco so we went with the intention of getting our Easter ham and some good bread for dinner and some berries for the pie my mom planned to make for dessert.  L absolutely LOVED eating her way through the store at all the sample stations!  At every food item in the aisles she'd ask, "Open it?" wanting a sample of whatever yummy goodness was inside the packaging.  Not exactly the way it works, sweet one.  Costco is HEAVEN for a toddler with food issues!

1st ride in the Jeep.

We had some lunch in the food court area after we checked out, L sitting on the side of the table near my mom and stepdad across from me.  During our quick lunch my mom called a possible dirty diaper to my attention.  I grabbed L and went out to the car to change her, something I had done before on previous shopping trips elsewhere.  When L stood up in the back of the van after I checked her diaper she

F R E A K E D  O U T!

I mean a hysterical, scared, panicked, out of her little mind scream.  I've never had a panic attack myself, but I imagine that's what I was witnessing from my daughter.  I hadn't heard a cry like that since China and even that seemed less intense than what happened on Easter weekend.  I tried my best to console her as my boys joined us at the car with my mom and stepdad for the drive home.  I have no idea what set my daughter off.

Back home, I pulled into the driveway nearly at the same time as my husband coming back from the office.  He honked his horn in the driveway to be sure I saw him and didn't open my door too quickly as he pulled in next to me.  Again, my Quiet Tiger

F R E A K E D  O U T!

Later that night after church something else bothered my daughter.  We had exited the church after service and were walking over to the baptism pool where my 9 year old son was going to be baptized.  As my daughter walked along the sidewalk next to me, she had another complete

F R E A K  O U T!

This one lasted the longest and the fact that it was late and past dinnertime probably didn't help her emotions.  But what on earth was causing these episodes?  We may never know.  But something clearly triggered a sad or scary memory of something from her past.  It was the first time my mom had seen such behavior from her granddaughter and it crushed her heart to see the broken side of adoption, the loss, the sadness.

My 3 kids before Easter service at church.

Oh, to get even the slightest glimpse into the 22 months of her life before we met in China, to be able to understand where some of her daily behavior stems from, and to be able to erase the bad and replace it with the good.

It's a tough journey at times.  Is it worth it?  You tell me..........