Excitement, because we were finally going to be parents!! I had dreamed of that day ever since I was a little girl playing house, and my husband had at one point in his bachelorhood grieved the possibility that he would never be a dad. In fact, even after being married for a few years, we wondered if parenthood would ever happen for us as a couple. Then, God revealed to us a few different times in different ways that we were called to adoption. I won't go through the whole story of that again, since it is in previous blogs, but it was quite a journey-- the process of adoption-- and so when we hopped in the van that would take us to our hotel in Jinan, China, and heard that our son was waiting for us at that moment in our hotel, we cried with that excitement. It was time! He was there!! We were excited, indeed, but he was scared. Imagine being nearly two years old and being whisked away by complete strangers. He had no idea what was happening, but we were ready. We were there to love him, to comfort him, to let him know that he was safe and that he would be loved by us forever. Here are the first moments of our meeting:
Finally, after a delay due to illness, we came home to begin the real work of becoming a family. This was where our first round of nervousness set in. How in the world were we going to help him feel safe, to know that we are permanent, to know that we love him? And how were we going to help him get to sleep at night so that we could also sleep? Ahhh... that question speaks to the life of new parents everywhere-- and on some nights, like tonight, it still speaks to us. (Thank you, Howie, for taking bedtime duty tonight.)
That was followed by a sudden awareness that our son had giardia. Not just any giardia (it's an awful protozoan), but a resistant giardia that held strong in our son's body for nearly four months since coming home. This really limited us-- me, especially, since I was at home while Howie went to work-- from going anywhere, because this was pretty powerful and very contagious diarrhea. You didn't want to be anywhere where it might rear its ugly head, as it did on our first outing to our local park. Ick!!
The sleepless nights and the giardia did not keep us from loving our son, though. He was a little comedian from the start, always doing something to make us laugh. He loved to snuggle and be held. He was sweet, kind, loving, and so SMART, and he still is all of those things and more.
Medically, we were lucky. The surgery for his special need was completed correctly in China. He did not need a "re-do" surgery at home in the US. For that, we are extremely thankful. We still had and continue to have to manage his special need. It's not a need that can be cured; it's a need that will need to be managed throughout his life, but we're prepared to support him throughout it all.
Today is a great day to reflect back on everything. Those first few months home, the months following those with some proactive attachment therapy to help us build those connections with our son, to help in the bonding, to help him feel safe, and to help him to know that he is loved.
And here we are, one year later, and though we still have some typical toddler challenges, things are quite a bit calmer than those first few months. I looked at my son today as he was smiling. I love the dimples on his lower cheeks. My brother has those dimples, even though they are not blood related. I love the dimple under his right eye, too. It helps to highlight those sparkly, loving brown eyes of his. I like it when he comes to me the mornings that my husband lets me sleep in (again, thank you Howie!), stands beside my bed, and says, "Get up, Mama! Get up!" How can I possibly stay asleep then? This little person, the one that I was so scared would not know our deep love for him, WANTS me to get up to be with him. He knows our love. I love it when he asks me to play the fish memory game with him, and when he takes my hand, and pulls me over to build "the biggest tower in the world" with him. He likes to make little spaces, which he calls windows, in this tower, and with each window built, he crouches down, and I crouch down, and he says, "I see you!" and I say it back to him. I even love him when he wakes up upset in the middle of the night and asks if we can play playdough- to which I say, "Not now, Gabriel. Tomorrow, we will play playdough." :) He's recently begun singing songs, too. He knows almost every song on the newest Mercy Me CD and the songs to nearly every PBS kid's show. (And no, we don't let him watch that much TV, but he gets free access to PBS shows for about an hour every night when having his treatment done.) He even loves watching Straight No Chaser sing "Back Home Again in Indiana." Sometimes, he even asks me to sing along. When I ask him if he's going to be a singer someday, he nods his head and smiles.
We co-slept our first few months home, then tried a different method which didn't work well, and are now back to co-sleeping until he falls asleep at which point we place him in his crib, which is soon to become a toddler bed. It takes time, sure. But it continues to build connection. I love how he nuzzles up to me and gets as close as he possibly can, how we whisper to each other,"I love you," and how he sucks his thumb while he falls asleep right beside me. He was never nursed, and I was never able to nurse. This is our nursing. It's hard to make up for lost time, but we're doing it.
Howie is doing a wonderful job at being a father, too. I love seeing them wrestle and rough house with each other, look into each others eyes with mutual admiration, and play fun games together. With summer here, I like seeing Howie being able to do more with our son, and I can see how Gabriel loves his Baba with all of his heart. All of those things above that Gabriel has done with me, he has done with Howie-- well, maybe except for the nursing part. We can leave that part out, but they are definitely bonding in their own ways as father and son.
As we go forward into our second year as a family together, we face an additional medical problem-- not life threatening or anything like that-- but definitely one that we hoped our son would not have to face. It breaks our heart to think about what it could possibly mean for him, like another surgery, and medical management of a different kind on top the condition he is already managing. It could trigger medical trauma for him, and though he understands what we say as parents, it's difficult to put medical treatments in toddler-friendly language. Again, he will wonder what is going on and why, but with God's help, we will help him get through it until he eventually does understand it and knows that we are there to help him through anything, no matter what.
Before we face that medical condition head-on, we'll celebrate his third birthday in less than a week, and we'll get to spend a lot of time with family and friends. We look forward to the non-medical part of the next year with eagerness and expectation. His language will grow more and will become more clearly understood by others. His gross motor, which was far behind earlier this year, is continuing to improve, and we expect he will catch up to his peers in that area pretty soon, too. Most of all, we just look forward to spending yet another year with our son-- the little person who makes us laugh, who loves us with all his might, who wears us out with his energy, and who makes us feel young again. We love you, too, Gabriel Song Fischer. Our hearts are yours forever.
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