a miracle for vasya.

It’s been a long time for me.  

I haven’t visited this little sad blog in a long time and it feels strange to be here.  

But today I have good reason to blow the proverbial dust off this lonely place and tap my fingers on the keyboard once again.  

The tide has changed and our family’s story has again taken another turn.

                                                       

                                                                *****

   

A few weeks ago, I read a fb post from a friend named Sara.  

She posted pictures of her beautiful “daughter”—the little girl she loves who is stuck in a Russian orphanage with our Davis.  

I looked at the pictures and my fingers immediately typed in the web address for the orphanage website.  

My heart searched for new photos of Davis.  No luck.  

Then immediately I searched the Russian orphan database where his photo has been removed for months.  

No update, no such child.  

Heart heavy and filled with concern, I then turned back to my friend Sara.  

I messaged her.  

She has connections in Russia.  

Could she possibly find an updated photo of my boy for me?  

I need to know he’s ok.  

He may have been transferred (to a mental institution) and I need to know.  

I just need to know.  

We are kindred spirits—having lived the same nightmare, she gets it completely.  

She messaged me almost immediately and inquired, “Would you like me to ask my Russian friend to help?” 

Sunday morning Sara messaged me again.  

My phone buzzed on the kitchen island and I lazily glanced at it while Michael and I were chatting.  

I stopped mid-sentence.  

I slid my finger over her name on my phone and began reading:

“A reply from my friend Irina in Tver: "And its especially so at your request to learn about the boy Vasya, I was immensely pleased to hear from the director of the orphanage, that the boy was indeed in a period of time with them, but now parents are restored in their rights and the boy soon will in its complete family, with relatives his mom and dad!!!"”

The tears came immediately.  

I reread the message.  

And again. And again.

Could I possibly be reading this correctly?  

Davis (Vasya) is going to live with his biological parents!  

After signing away their rights so we could adopt him, they have worked to have them restored.  

He will no longer be at the orphanage, he will live with his “complete family!” 

You guys.  Can you even?

Cue the ugly cry.  

Times ten thousand.

I have written a million times about my agony, my pain, my deep, dark sadness over losing Davis.  You all have shared that with me—there and back again.  

Now, please join me in PRAISE and PRAYER as Davis’ family takes this incredibly brave decision to reunite their son with his rightful family!  

God, the true redeemer, the wish granter, my loving father, has worked a MIRACLE.  

I stand in awe of the details, the way He crafted this story.  

All of the clichés are TRUTH. 

God’s great timing. 

When He’s doing one thing, He’s doing a hundred others. 

He hears our cries. 

He is faithful to those who believe. 

He sets the lonely in families.

Davis has a family.  

He is loved.  

He is chosen.  

And my dream has come true.  

My sweet baby has his family.

We will always cherish and choose Davis.
Today we give thanks to God for this amazing blessing!

faith the size of a mustard seed.

I’m sitting alone in the living room of an apartment somewhere in Eastern Europe.

How I got here I don’t know.  Well, of course I know HOW I got here—I took plane ride after plane ride, tried to sleep, tried to eat, repeat.  But I really don’t know how I got here.  It’s been a long ride, this journey of adoption.  And I know I write that as if I’m on the other side of it, as if it’s over already which it’s not.  But in many ways, my journey has been as much about ending as it is beginning.  My heart aches this morning for a sweet little orphan boy in a remote region of Russia.  If I close my eyes I can still see Davis’ smile and feel his arms around me as he hugged my neck so, so tightly.  I can feel my hands rub over his freshly shaved hair and see his sweet eyes twinkle while we sang and laughed and I snapped photos of him.  He is alive in me.  And so it is quite ironic and heartbreaking that I am in another country waiting anxiously to receive a referral for a different child that I hope to make my son.  I am as eager as I am fearful.   My heart is again open and laid bare, and again, able to be crushed.  But FAITH. 

Faith is a very strong and undeniable thing.  The day before I got on all of those planes, I laid in bed with my only daughter and we talked about faith.  How can you go even when you are afraid?  Faith.  How can you still love when you’re heart has been broken?  Faith.  How can you still risk when all seems lost?  Faith.  How can you continue on when it would be so much easier to stay put?  Faith--faith the size of a mustard seed at times.  But that’s all it takes.  You don’t have to be sure or certain but you must have a teensy tiny amount of faith.  Faith is what propels us forward and gives us courage.  Faith is that glimmer of hope when everything else says, “Impossible!”  Faith will revive you, grab you by the hand and get you on that plane.

I sit here on this sofa surrounded by unfamiliar sounds and smells, my stomach rumbling and my head racing, already longing for my own bed and my children back at home.  Yet I know that this right here, right now, is the stuff of life.  My discomfort and rumbling stomach are merely signs of my physical sacrifice.  Adoption is a process of sacrifice.  I am sacrificing my comfy life, my comfy normal, my comfy bank account for the good of another human being.  And it’s nothing.  Truly, when I think about what Christ did for me, for all of us, what I’m doing is nothing.  But it’s something, right?!  I have to believe that this fight I’m living is for something.  Even the fight I lived for Davis is for something.   Because God is with me here in this apartment, fighting along side with us.  God is with Jude in his orphanage, preparing his heart to meet us.  God is with Davis, sustaining him, with my children who miss us, my parents who are working so hard to take care of them for us, with you even as you read this.  He is working in each of us. 

I truly believe that there is so much Good Work being done all the time that we couldn’t possibly begin to understand the enormity of it all.   Our lives are intertwined and overlapping and our stories each contain threads that are woven into this great, beautiful tapestry that we can’t humanly comprehend. Those things we claim to be ironic, coincidental, those times we say "what a small world!"...all part of the tapestry.

I just woke John up and explained the dos and don’t of taking a shower in the bathroom here.  He’s yawning and unimpressed.  Doesn’t he realize that I’ve spent the morning wrestling my anxieties and writing all these deep thoughts?  Nope.  He isn't interested.  But he does say to me, “I hope Cindy’s alarm went off on time.”  Cindy is a woman we met yesterday that was boarding a train at 6:00 this morning to go rescue two orphans.  She is a woman with a story as long, as twisting, as full of disappointments and heartache as anyone, but her grit and her resolve impressed us both.  She has an enviable relationship with God.  And I imagine that He knew exactly what He was doing when our plane showed up two hours late and we shared a driver from the airport into the city.  It was no accident that she shared her story of losing a little girl from Russia during the ban and how she came to the crossroads of adoption yet again.  It most certainly wasn’t a mistake that we went to dinner together and walked her back to her apartment.  Three strangers in a strange new city, yet last night, the world felt smaller, together.  Cindy is a part of our story now.  She was a gift to us, a gift of reassurance and hope and friendship.  I pray that the Lord will bless her tomorrow as she heads to court for the parental rights of two special needs orphans who desperately need her.  Lord, be with all of them. 

Our DAP appointment is in an hour.  We expect it to be short, just a few minutes, as we receive our referral for Jude, the very first step here towards making him our son. We expect our driver soon so I’m off to find clean socks and unpack my boots. The day awaits.

jude: an adoption update and an auction!

way back in january we committed to a little boy named jude.
we blogged about it in march.
remember way back when?

well we have been busy and things have been progressing!
we completed our paperwork in may and were invited to travel in august.
unfortunately jude's paperwork wasn't ready when we were, so we are now requesting travel for november.
did you catch that?!
we are requesting to travel in just a few short weeks!

in fact, he has already begun his required TB testing this week!
AND just to send our happy meter off the charts, last thursday, he was told he has a family.
i can't even imagine his thoughts, his excitement, his emotions!!
it's almost too much to handle, isn't it?!

now that we are getting so much closer, it's time for some fundraising!
i'll admit, i'm nervous about this part.
when we tried to adopt our sweet davis boy, we raised about $13,000.
our russian adoption expenses took every last penny and then some.
so when we began this adoption we knew that money was gone.
we have paid for all of our expenses so far but in the next few months, our needs are going to grow exponentially.
airfare alone for one trip is running around $4500--and we have to take 2-3 trips depending on when we are assigned a court date!
we need help.

our first fundraiser is an instagram auction TOMORROW!! (from 1-9 pm)
so many INCREDIBLE items have been donated to help us!
we would be honored if you would check it out and bid on some awesome stuff!
100% of the money raised goes directly to our adoption fund.
every last cent.
praise Jesus!
all you have to do is go to the instagram app and follow @auctionforjude for all the details!
i'll post some pics here tomorrow to remind/tease ya! ;)

i can't end this post without thanking all of the shops and lovely ladies who have generously supported us for this auction.
even if we don't raise a dime, we feel so blessed.
xo!

it's only been six months.

let's get this blog updated why don't we!

let's start with the obvious:  i am still healing.
it is taking much, much longer than i ever expected.
and if i'm being completely honest with you, i still look at davis' picture almost every day.
i look straight into his little face and i apologize for failing him.
that's how i feel--like i could have worked harder or completed my paperwork faster or pushed myself in some other way--to get to him faster.
i almost can't believe it all happened, like it's a bad nightmare that i can't seem to shake.
i'm working on it.

we received our invitation to travel to jude's country in early august.
unfortunately, his paperwork was not ready yet so we had to miss our appointment.
major bummer.
we hope to be able to travel in november now!
deep breath and fingers crossed!
if you could pray for putin to go away and leave all neighboring countries alone forever, i would be so grateful.

so many wonderful things have been happening in our family.
the children all returned to school!  (see what i mean?  wonderful!)
josh started middle school/junior high and has amazed me with how well he transitioned.
he is such a good kid, even though he struggles with keeping up with his homework and helping out around the house.
but then again, what 12 year old doesn't, right?

anna started fifth grade and is doing great.
she is crazy about her science class and the fact that she recently was named the class "reptile manager".
perfect.

like josh, ben changed schools too, continuing with our city's special education program.
the first week or so was Rough.
with a capital R.
but now, oh man.
now, he's found his groove and he is loving his new class.
we have all settled in and it feels so good to be back in a rhythm again.

john is going back to school to get another master's degree.
overachiever, that one.
i can barely find enough energy to get a shower every day.
he's out getting degrees.
nuts.

we got a new dog.
his name is tater and he's a goof ball.
i think i like him.
even though he pees all over my house and i keep repeating, "why can't i have anything nice?!!"

miss kitty still isn't sure about him*.
he pounces on her every chance he can get.
*might have something to do with it.

i'm getting tired of typing (tragedy! i've obviously lost my blogging stamina!).
so quickly...
josh quit football.  (too much practicing, all the days and nights.......)
anna is playing volleyball (loves it.  she's a beast.)
ben is playing soccer (so far -- meh.)
i still wanna own my own store. (no $. story of my life.)
i'm obsessed with the show fixer upper.
joanna gaines.
oh my lawd.

i think that's about it.
it's just a little summary that i'm not really proud of but hey, i wrote it.
and we lived it.
and now i'm gonna hit publish and give myself some grace.

our warrior and our first giveaway!

a week or two ago i received a beautiful surprise.
our family was assigned a "family warrior"-- a fellow adopting momma with battle scars of her own who stepped up to advocate for us and help us raise the ransom for jude.
i mean really, isn't that just amazing?

she sent me a lovely note and also an offer to do a giveaway for a felt easter banner and devotional book that she herself made.
click over to her blog and check out all the details!
it is so beautifully made, so special, and such a wonderful way to share the true meaning of easter with your kiddos.
(i just can't seem to find the words of how grateful i am, tanna!)

so, here's the deets:
if you would like a chance to win one of tanna's beautiful felt easter banners and devotional book, please donate $5 or more to our reece's rainbow account and leave me a comment here saying you did so.

please share on fb, instagram, twitter, your own blog, etc.
if you do, leave me another comment and i will throw your name in the hat for another chance.

that's it.
simple simple.
i will pick a winner next wednesday, march 26th (ben boy's birthday!).

thank you TANNA! and thank you friends for all of your love and blessings!

what now?

today i googled "how to move on after a failed adoption."
that's where i am, staring down those words on my computer screen... failed adoption.
i am struggling to move on, to move forward, to figure out...what now?

i still have adoption in my heart.
this is a fact.
i have contacted an agency that deals with another country.
i have reviewed several files, wide-eyed and with as much of an open heart that i can muster.
i took my time, prayed hard, and still felt like i couldn't breathe while trying to imagine these children in our family.
i'm not ready for that.
i'm not ready just yet.

i would give anything, ANYthing, to be able to adopt davis.
this is a fact too.
if i ever had a doubt before, if i ever, even once, second-guessed whether we could do it, if he would fit, if pursuing him was the best thing for our family, i can tell you confidently that those thoughts never had a chance.
john and i love him as our own child, as if he was formed in my womb, and born into our family.
he is perfect.
he is beautiful.
he is worth everything.

and i can also reaffirm that the Lord was with us every step of the way.
i never, as long as i have lived, never, have felt as close to God as i did sitting in a little orphanage in a remote part of russia, holding my lonely, scared child.
He was there with me.
and Happiness and Love and Joy and Hope were there too.
it was an experience filled with beauty, one that i will never forget, for all of my days.

so if things were so right and i was willing to do whatever it took, what happened?
why didn't things go the way we expected or hoped?
i don't think that's something we will ever know.
how long do you wait until you say "ok, i have to stop making this the center of my life. i did all you could.  this isn't my fault.  i did it all.  i have to keep living.  move on, already!"??
i wish i knew the answer.
this is way more complicated than i could have ever imagined.
love is a messy, complex thing.

i have days of semi-normalcy and nights of worry.
i have moments when i feel helpless and moments when i feel angry.
but mostly, i'm just sad.
and maybe it's not just sad for me--although there have been some epic pity-parties, let me tell you--
i'm sad for davis, for sergey, for isaac, for elden, for anya, for artem, for all of the thousands of children who have no choice and no chance.
i'm sad for the politicians who don't care, who never did and never will; for the other families who were in this fight beside me who are hurting too.

i'm letting this post get away from me.
i really wrote this post because i wanted to say thank you.
thank you for donating to our fund, for blogging about our boy, for checking in on us and for offering words of encouragement throughout these long two (almost three) years.
thank you for praying for us and for keeping davis in your thoughts and prayers.
thank you for listening to me rant about russians and orphans and down syndrome and adoption and all kinds of uncomfortable stuff.
thank you for EVERYthing.
i love and appreciate each one of you.

we are taking things slow.
we are working through all of this and treading ever so carefully towards a new normal.
our God is still here, as He always is, comforting us and loving us.
we are healing.
xo.

july. marching on.

 

this is hard.
i want to keep on blogging but it feels forced and uncomfortable.
i wish things were different, that davis was home, that it all worked out and i could write to you all exclaiming the happy news and we could move on happily and easily.
and the writing would feel easy and sharing my thoughts would come freely and openly, like they used to.
but sometimes life isn't easy, is it?
and neither is writing.
but i'm not ready to give up just yet.

 time is certainly helping.
it is a healer of sorts, time is, helping me forget the painful details and move forward with the other things that need my focus.
time marches forward like a soldier, on to the next orders, the next demand, on to the next day, never looking back.
it is relentless.

 

i have no idea how it is nearing the end of july already.
wasn't it just may?
nevertheless, we are gearing up for the start of school and the return of a more structured schedule.
new backpacks showed up in my mailbox this week and football cleats are tops on the to-do list.
practices are starting, back to school emails floating, summer reading books started.
it'll be here before you know it.
before i know it.

we escaped to the gulf again last weekend.
we are madly in love with our home and our dock and all of it.
truth:  i have never felt relaxed on vacation before. 
sad, but true.
i am a homebody and maybe a clean freak, i don't know.
but having my own place, my own bed, my own sofa, my own silverware...it just helps calm me.
and i can enjoy the house and the beach like i haven't ever been able to before, surrounded by our own stuff.
it's very much an awesome thing.

at the beach house, i changed out a few plates, hung up a new piece of art and even made plans to revamp our outside shower. 
it's like the old me is still in there, slowly working her way back to the surface for a breath or two.

back at our regular ol' house, i am working on changing our bedroom.
we painted (my mother's day gift), i bought a few new pillow shams, a new (very old) painting, curtains, etc.
it's coming together and i think i like it.
furniture is soooo expensive.
pisses me off actually.
so i can only change the cheap stuff but it does make a big difference.

josh is becoming quite the fisherman.
he lives, eats, breathes, fishing.
it's awesome.
anna is into bracelet making and drawing and painting and front handsprings.
it's awesome too.
ben is into dancing and jumping and running and basketball and baseball and volley ball and swimming and...it's tiring.
but awesome.

we are good.
we are still here and all is well.
i've missed this place.
i've missed my blog friends.
it's nice to see you again.
:)

prayer request.

today was a longggggg day.
work was yucky.
i sat in a crazy meeting that made me feel...beat down and exhausted.
the traffic coming home was horrendous.
my car's air conditioner is still not working.
and, i forgot my sunglasses.

i came home cranky and whiny.
i didn't thank my parents for watching my kids.
i didn't thank john for taking anna to softball.
i didn't even notice that my dishwasher had been unloaded and my house vacuumed.
instead, i complained about my day and whined about how much i hate my job.

i'm a total brat.
and i'm sorry.
mom, dad, john, kids, i'm sorry for acting like that.
there are MUCH bigger things to worry about than an awful meeting and a bad day.


in fact, tomorrow members of several russian agencies are going to meet with the u.s. dept of state and other folks to discuss the adoption ban.
they will be talking about the details, the families, the children, the policies put in place to deny the children the opportunity to be adopted by americans.
this is BIG.

i have been praying for this meeting since january!
will you please join in me prayer tomorrow and thursday too?
please pray for hearts to soften, for action to be taken, for the families in progress to be allowed to continue, for the children to be freed!

this may be our last hope.



love to you all,
amy

i'm here. still kickin.

i sit here in the quiet of my dark house.
the sun is just now starting to make its way above the horizon in the eastern sky.
my people are still in their beds, every once in a while i hear someone shuffle around in their covers.
i just brewed a cup of coffee in my favorite black and white polka dot mug.
this lonely computer now feels like a stranger to me.
we rarely visit one another lately and i feel rather sad about that.

truth is i'm doing ok.
we are all so busy with the day-to-day stuff that makes up our lives.
work, homework, practices, projects, plans...you know it all well.
for me there's also a lot of praying and clinging and hoping thrown in there too--i'm still trying to do the best i can with this parenting thing.
the kids are getting older and that brings more and more challenges with it.
it's a struggle some days...and really and truly that's a huge understatement!

buck's up.  he just gave me a wet, stinky breathed lick on my hand.
he loves me.
he doesn't care that i haven't brushed my teeth and my hair is in a ratty bun on top of my head.
he doesn't mind my hulk hogan style sweatshirt and yesterday's mascara under my eyes.
he's pretty darn awesome like that.
i think he deserves a treat. :)

where was i...oh, yes, parenting.
so hard.
you know it well too, i'm sure.

then there's my little one across the sea.
reports from the orphanage are that he's doing well, walking better and even feeding himself now!
cause for celebration!
just wish, with all my momma heart, that we could be celebrating here together!
this week coming up is a big one.
wednesday and thursday russian officials are traveling her to talk to the US Dept of State and Citizenship and Immigration folks about the ban.
if you can, please pray for a miracle!
please pray for hearts to be changed and the gates to be opened so these children can be freed!
very important meeting to say the least.

oh, here comes ben.
i can hear him yawning at the top of the stairs.
yep, he's now climbing up on sofa and snuggling with me.
this boy, man alive.  he's just the greatest.
i know i say that all the time but he really is.
i just love him so much it's ridiculous.

did you know that ben turned SIX last month?
he sure did.
AND he blew out his candles on his birthday cake!

more soon.
promise.
(thanks melissa and poppy for reminding me that blogging is important too.)

i gotta run.
time to get dressed and meet up with nana for some yardsale-ing.
hoping for some great finds and hoping each of you have a wonderful weekend.
xo.

dark and stillness.

I awake to little foot steps down the hall and into my room.

I can feel his breath on my face as he leans in to be sure I am just  where I am supposed to be.

He climbs up and into my bed, under the covers and as close to me as possible.

I turn around to face him and wrap my arms around his small body, rubbing his back.

He nuzzles his face into my neck and quickly goes back to sleep.

…

This little boy is such a gift to us.

I sometimes think about my life before he was here, my life before I became a special needs mom.

Everything was so simple then, and everything seemed so easy and so… small.

I didn’t think so at the time, oh no, I complained and ranted about every little thing, I’m sure. But now, looking back, it was as if I were living in the dark, completely oblivious to the real world around me.

There is an awareness now that wasn’t there before, apathy that wasn’t there before, consideration that never existed in my thoughts or actions.

I feel so much, so, so, much more than I did before…I’m almost ashamed at my shallowness before ben came into my life.

…

Lying in my bed, snuggling with my baby boy, feeling his puppy breath on my face, his hands laced in mine, I cannot help but think of my little one across the globe.

There are thousands and thousands just like him.

I feel their yearning.

I feel their fear.

I feel their helplessness.

It knocks me down like a tall wave in a rumbling ocean.

…

I close my eyes and listen to ben’s breath.

I inhale the smell of his hair and rub his back.

He sighs in his sleep, and I smile to myself.

And there, in the stillness of the night and the darkness of my room, I give thanks.

i will blog again. i will blog again. i will blog again...

i cannot tell you how many times i've opened up this little ol' blog of mine and stared at this blank screen.
i've watched the cursor blink at me over and over again while my head spins...but my hands stay still.
there is so much to say yet there is nothing to say.
maybe i've broken up with blogging.
i don't know.
i'm confused.
anywayzzzzzz...

*****
we have nothing positive to tell you about our adoption.
that's first and foremost.
and i know it's stinky.
i'm sorry.
the department of state and united states immigration have told us that russia is officially closed.
they continue to work and push the issues with officials at the highest levels, but right now, russia has said no exceptions.

i just can't tell you how this crushed my soul, how badly my heart is broken, and how hard it is to go on with the day-to-day minutiae of life.
i feel bad that i can't laugh freely or concentrate on anything for any length of time.
it feels fake and ridiculous.
i listen to other people plan their lives and go about their days, and i can't help but think that the things they worry about are a waste of time.
there are children that will waste away to nothingness!  can't you people understand how horrible this is??!!  it's over.  my son is not coming home.  there is no hope. 
i just want to yell at them and shake them and show them the pictures in my mind of the orphanage and my little boy, barely able to walk at almost SIX years old, hoping they might understand the urgency, the enormity of all of this.
but i can't.
and the pain is smothering me.
our agency has hired an attorney and we have submitted private appeal letters.
the judge has accepted the letters but we have no idea if she will reject them or what may happen next.
all i do know is there will be more waiting.
and more gray hairs.


*****

we have started to remodel our downstairs bathroom--a distraction of sorts--and john has worked hard to get it ready for new tile, a new sink and new wainscoting.
i picked out the classics: hexagon tile, a school house style pedestal sink, a faucet with white enamel handles with hot and cold written on them.
i think it will look great but it's going to take a while.
these things don't happen quickly especially with three kiddos around.

*****


a couple of weeks ago, we met with josh's teachers about his grades.
after the start of the new year, his grades dropped drastically.
he was struggling and having a really poor attitude.
we sat him down and had a big talk, met with his teachers and made a plan, and really asked him to TRY.
something must have clicked, thank the Lord!, because his grades are a thousand times better and so is his effort.
he is trying so hard and that's all we can ask for.

i will admit it here, because i know you guys get it, but i cried when i talked to his teachers.
i couldn't help it.
they were all so sweet and really care about him and it was very moving.
they told us how badly they want the best for him and it touched me deeply--and again i found myself feeling so much respect for teachers and their calling in life.


anna has been getting in trouble for talking in school almost every day...just like her mother. :)
ben has met lots of his iep goals this year (yay ben!) and we are meeting with his teachers in about a month to update his iep.
prayers are welcomed!
both anna and ben love our new trampoline and spend almost every afternoon hanging out together.
best christmas present ever.

  

 

*****
i think about davis every second of every day.
just today i thought about how i still need to order his easter basket so his basket can match the other kids.
i wonder if he thinks about us and misses us at all.
i wonder if he sleeps with the quilt we left for him.
i wonder if he ever looks at our pictures.

the other night, out of the blue, josh told me he wished davis was here (at our house).
josh and anna both pray for davis every night, that he's safe and cared for and that he can be a part of our family soon.
i pray for the very same things too.

*****
 hope y'all are doing well.
maybe this blogging thing will take off again or maybe not.
guess we'll just have to see.
until next time, friends...

shop update.

well hello there and a happy saturday to you!
i spent some time today updating the shop.
i had a small stash of vintage goodies and decided today was the day.
they are now in the shop awaiting good homes.
as usual, all profits go to our adoption fund.
we may not know what is going to happen with davis' country but are still doing what we can to be ready when the time comes.
:)

family is.....adoption.

thank you amy brockhaus for sharing this.
i have watched it over and over again, smiling bigger each and every time.
it makes me want to swim across the big blue ocean to my little sweet davis boy right now.
i miss him so badly.
but y'all are going to love this!!

saying goodbye.

we awoke in the darkness again and laid together silently in our bed.
the alarm kept going off and i kept hitting snooze.
john didn't want to move and neither did i--i think, subconsciously, neither of us wanted this morning to come.

we dressed and got ready in silence.
i packed my bag to take to the orphanage with our picture book, tissues, my cell phone and the quilt i brought to give to davis.
i sat on the end of the bed and ate a cliff bar and drank some bottled water.
we moved slowly around the chilly room waiting for 9:00 to come.

the drive to the orphanage was bitter cold.
we shivered in the car and my hands were freezing even in my gloves.
john leaned over and whispered to me "i wonder if the orphanage gets cold at night.  davis' hands are always so cold."
i just shrugged and tried not to let the sadness consume me right then and there.

we turned down the snowy lane and i tried to memorize each twist and turn on the path to the orphanage.
i don't know, maybe i was thinking that one day i might have to find him myself so i need to remember the way.
silly, isn't it?
we stood outside of the orphanage waiting for the workers to let us in.
after a minute or two we rang the bell and a lady finally came to the door.
we went inside and stomped the snow off of our boots, then we walked the long dark hall to the stairs.
we passed by a big bulletin board with some of the children's photographs on it.
i saw so many children that i recognized and i smiled knowing that families are working their way to them.
the children don't know it yet, but their lives are going to be turned upside down in the best way in this new year.
i smiled just thinking about the good times to come for them...

up the stairs and into our little visiting room again.
we took off our coats and waited.
by now, davis knows exactly what to expect and he was full of smiles for us!
praise Jesus he was feeling well and no fever!
he was dressed in the same outfit as yesterday afternoon and looked so handsome.

the psychiatrist joined us for a little while and we asked both her and the director about davis' eating habits.
he eats good.  he eats everything. khah-rah-shoh (that means 'good, fine' but i have no idea how to spell it but this is how you say it.)
that's great news.
we will definitely be bringing him some drinks and snacks on the next trip then.
we couldn't think of any more questions so we just started to play.

davis went to the rocking horse again, to the puzzles, to the blocks, to the beads...
he was busy busy.
he wanted to touch everything and pick it up and hand it to us but honestly he had no idea how to play with anything.
john showed him how to stack the blocks or bang them together with both hands.
davis just wasn't interested, instead he'd rather take them all out and put them away.

we were feeling kind of stuffy in the room and honestly rather bored, so we switched to the big play room across the hall.
the temperature was much cooler in there and there was lots of room to run around and act silly.
the psychiatrist checked on us and took off davis' hot sweater and he seemed so much more comfortable!
we kicked a big ball around for a bit, looked in the mirror at ourselves, played hide and seek around the christmas tree, and sang songs.

john and i were both exhausted! :)

at one point, one of the caregivers walked through the room to get something.
she came back a few minutes later and asked us if we wanted to listen to music.
da! yes! (remember how we were told how much davis loves music?)
oh man, you should have seen his face!
he was soooo excited and started dancing all over.
they must practice a special dance to the song she played because he did all kinds of hand movements and moved his head back and forth to the beat.
then she got a small bouncy exercise ball and he sat right down on it, held john's hands, and bounced and bounced!
that caregiver gave us such a gift today--i captured some of his dancing and bouncing with my video camera so we can watch it over and over again when we are home and show the other children.
i think they are going to love it as much as we do.

i tried not to look at the clock while we were with him but i couldn't help myself.
the morning had just evaporated and we only had about 15 minutes left with him.
i heard our facilitator's voice in the hall way and i looked wide-eyed at john and started to cry.
davis was in my arms and at that very moment, he squeezed my neck so tight and held me so close.
i whispered all of my hopes and prayers for him into his little ears and squeezed him tight.
john walked over and wrapped his arms around us both.
davis reached for john and john pulled him close to his chest.
that sweet baby boy buried his little face into john and hugged his neck like never before.
i promise you, he knew what was happening.

 quickly, he turned back to me and reached out.
i grabbed him and kissed him over and over again.
the door opened and the psychiatrist was coming over to us.
it was time to say goodbye.

my eyes were pouring out tears and i literally was shaking, and davis reached for john again.
he nuzzled his face into his neck and john closed his eyes, hugging him close again.
back and forth, back and forth...davis wanted us both to hold him and kiss him and he held us tighter than ever.
the psychiatrist reached out for him and he pushed her hands away.
for the first time, he showed them that he wanted only us.
he chose us.
and i lost it.

the tears were pouring out of me and rolling down my face.
i held him as long as i could and kissed him as many times as i could before finally the psychiatrist took him out of the room.
paka (bye bye)! paka! paka momma, paka papa!
the facilitator was in the door way talking with the director and he walked over to me.
he saw that i was crying, hugged me and said

they want you to know that they've never seen him smile and laugh so much.  they say he's always so serious and now he laugh.  and it is because of you...both (motioning to john too).  that make them very happy.  he smile, maybe for the first time, with you.


i closed my eyes and thanked God for this, another gift.
and then i sobbed into john's chest and we stood there hugging for a good long while.

somehow we managed to find our things and pack them up.
we put on our coats and gloves and zipped up tight.
we thanked the director and the psychiatrist and made our way out of the building.
i walked but couldn't see a thing, the tears just coming and coming.
we waited for the driver and got in the car.
john snapped a few pictures of the outside of the orphanage and we drove away.
back to the hotel, back to the city, back to the life we had before we held our boy.

we will drive back to the city tonight and meet with the judge tomorrow.
please, i beg for your prayers that she will be kind and easy on us.
we still have so far to go to satisfy her and we pray she will have mercy on us.
and of course, we ask that you add davis and his friends to your prayer lists as well.
we pray that he will know and understand that we will return for him, and in the meantime, remember how much we love and adore him.

a few months ago, i prayed to God and told him that i was ready for my world to be turned upside down.
we were waiting and waiting for travel dates, well, for lots of things, and i just felt like God wasn't listening.
ha, even writing that out on the screen makes me feel so foolish, like, of course i should have known better, but i felt like we needed God to move more quickly for us, for davis.
so i prayed (ok so maybe it was more like begging), but i told the Lord that i was ready, my heart was finally ready.
and He did what i asked...he wrecked me.
totally destroyed my heart.
and honestly, i've never been happier in my whole life.

For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness, " made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. 2 Corinthians 4:6

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.  Praise the Lord. Psalm 150:6

we will see davis again soon and all the glory will be in His name.
we are forever grateful for these few days in russia and for a little boy with down syndrome that no one wanted.
xo.

wednesday with davis.

i couldn't sleep for most of the night.
finally around 5 am i crashed out...the alarm went off at 7.
it was a rough morning to say the least.
john was tired, i was tired, the sky was dark and dreary and bitterly cold.

we pulled ourselves out of bed and got dressed.
we went to the cafe in our hotel and ate cheese omelets and orange juice and i had a frothy capuccino.
that helped a little bit, i admit.
it was snowing this morning and my nose froze between the steps between our hotel and the car.
the morning seemed to pass quickly and we were at the orphanage before we knew it.

davis was happy to see us and went to me easily.
he was dressed in a new outfit today: denim gloria jeans overalls with pink embroidered flowers, a brown wool sweater, tights and his lucky yellow sandals.
he wanted to rock on the rocking horse again and went to it immediately.
he rocked back and forth while john and i sang to him "rocky, rocky, baby!"
he giggled and threw his head back while he laughed.
his smile can light up the darkest places.
it truly can.

after the rocking horse, he got down and explored the visiting room.
i don't think he's ever seen so many toys in his life and he walked the perimeter of the room with bright eyes.
he had no idea what to do with these toys so we grabbed a couple and tried to get him to join us.
he wasn't really interested in any one particular toy too much but he did sit down and play blocks for a few minutes.
after a while he climbed into a tiny chair and sat proudly.
then he spotted a mirror and oh boy did he giggle at himself!
but again, he would only play for a minute or two and then he wanted to move on or come to us to hold him.
i don't know how much time he gets to practice his walking or standing because he seems to tire easily.
and we must have worn the poor little guy out because he was exhausted when it came time for our afternoon visit.

in the afternoon he was happy to see us but mostly content with us holding him, his arms wrapped tightly around our necks.
he would go from john to me.
then me to john.
again, again and again.
he was so very sleepy.

after a while of holding him, i could hear his breathing change and i thought he was sound asleep.
he body was like a sack of potatos, loose and limp against me.
he curled up on me, his little head nuzzled in my neck for literally one full hour.
we played the lullaby toy we brought for him and i sat in a chair and rocked him.
he didn't want me to put him down and i was happy to oblige of course.
john took turns with me holding him and not once did his feet touch the floor.


the visiting room was warm and stuffy, and he was wearing the thick brown wool sweater, and by the end of our visit he was warm and flushed.
the director told us in a concerned voice that several children in his groupa were ill with fevers, and we said a quick prayer right then and there that tomorrow, for our last visit, that he will be well.

that's right, tomorrow we will hold him and snuggle him and giggle with him again ... and then say goodbye.
the weather here may be turning bad and we need to get back to the big city to meet with the judge, so rather than risk missing that meeting, we will be returning tomorrow night.
i've already packed my tissues in my purse to take with me to the orphanage because saying goodbye to my little pumpkin, well, let's just say that i don't know if i'm going to be able to do it with grace.
my eyes are already filling up with tears just typing these words here tonight so i can only imagine the emotions i will feel tomorrow.

this is so hard.
how do you tell your little lovey boy that you wish beyond wishes that you could bring him home but you must leave him?
how do you even try to convey to him that you will be back as soon as you can when realistically it will be months until you see each other again?
how do you convince him that you would give anything for him to remember you, to never forget how much love we've shared in the past days?
oh boy, i just can't find the words in the tired and sad heart of mine.
but i will continue to pray that he will know and understand and remember, that the Good Lord will remind him and the Holy Spirit sustain him until we are able to hold him again.