Food and the adopted child

I think it impossible to understand what food means to a child who has not had enough. I had read up on it, viewed some webinars, talked to other adopters regarding potential behaviors, but I totally underestimated the challenges associated with it until I became a parent to a child that has been hungry. To a child whose daily mission her first 3 years of life was finding enough food to eat and then probably still went to bed without a satisfied tummy.

I was shocked ... SHOCKED... with how much food our little one could devour when we first took custody. At one time, Hubs and I thought that is was easily more than both of us consumed on an average day. Her poor little body would tremble at the sight of food with the anxiety of Will I actually get to eat this food? Will they take it away before I finish? Will this be the last of such a glorious meal? When she got a hold of it, she would literally open her throat and cram it down. She would wake during the night and ask for bananas and eggs. Before she was totally roused out of sleep in the morning and after nap, she would start rocking back and forth crying for bananas and eggs. She. Was. Obsessed. If we even walked into the kitchen, she would be right there hanging on a pant leg and crying for food. I honestly don't think she understood the concept of preparing food. She was used to having food just handed to her on the streets or in the orphanage, so the concept of taking 15 minutes to prepare something sent her anxieties through the roof. When she got the food, she had no "off" button and would eat until she gagged. When her plate was empty, she would face plant into the plate and lick it clean. If you even dare try to take her plate with even a crumb left, she would swipe at you with her claws. Seriously - I will never forget this. Thinking she was finished, I reached to clear her bowl. I did not see that a remaining spoonful could be scrapped from the side. The way she quick-as-a-flash grabbed on to my wrist and looked at me with such ferocity, well, the only word that I can use to describe it was primal. It froze me in my tracks - and then it added to my compassion for what she must have faced in her life to lead her to such an instinctual reaction.


In the first few months that we had her, our entire day focused around food. When will we feed her next? What will we give her? How can we prepare food without her loosing it? How do we present it without her pouncing on it like a tiger? Was that portion too big? Too small? How do we describe healthy portions and that "seconds" really just mean one more helping?

Intuitively, we let it be like this at first; our days centering around food. We figured that her body just really needed good healthy food, she needed to learn that food would always be available and that she would not go to bed hungry, and that nobody was taking it from her. Most importantly, we knew that it helped comfort her during a traumatic transition.

After those first few months, however, we questioned the direction we were going with food. She was gaining weight too rapidly (turning from a bitty thing to almost tipping over into the overweight level on the charts) and her food behaviors were becoming frightening. In one of her Oh my God! Someone gave me a banana out of the context of our kitchen table, so I better cram it down my throat before it is taken away! she choked on her banana. One of those scary kinds of Heimlich and then hang the kid upside down with several blows to the back for a minute kind of scary chokes.

We consulted with a specialist and decided the best approach was to just limit her meals to healthy 3 year old portions. When she requested more food in between, always have healthy choices on hand - like an apple or an orange. And just to clarify - An apple. An orange. Not giving her free reign the entire bag of fruit like before.

Eventually her anxieties eased up. We had a bit of a respite while she was on a 21 day oral med for parasites. It zapped her appetite, so I think it actually helped her to see that we were still having mounds of food offered to her even without her asking or even wanting it. And also, when the parasites were cleared up,  it was to be expected that her body would not need to crave and absorb as much nourishment.

 
As I write this now, we are entering a whole new ball game. One day she woke up and realized that there really were choices in the food world and that she does not have to eat everything that is placed in front of her - so now she was only going to pick foods to eat that are the most yummy! Currently these consist of about 6 things -  the top choice being chicken nuggets (I know, so help me. At least I try and buy the most healthy ones), and of course, any and all sweet things that don't stick to her teeth. Above all, she is a stickler for dental hygiene. Go figure.

At dinner, it is still important to us that she be served what all others have and she needs to try a bite. If she does not eat dinner, then she does not get anything else. No, I don't let her starve and I always have a side she likes.  I also offer a bedtime snack and plenty of foods in the daytime that she will eat. I do feel it important, however, to try and avoid being a short order cook and establish some parameters with food from the beginning.

Is she hording food?  This is a very common question to ask with people that have faced hunger. For her, not entirely. The other day she said that she "needed privacy" and shut her bedroom door. Thinking this was suspicious behavior being that she does not normally like us to have our eyes off of her, I entered the room. She had an innocent look on her face, but I saw the little Hershey kiss stashed up her sleeve in such a crafty manner ... the kiss that we said she could not have until after dinner. This could be related to already established behaviors or a typical 3 year old thing to do, but regardless, hoarding will be something we will have to keep our eye on.

Our main priority is to teach her how to have a healthy relationship with food; making good choices, letting her know it is always there, and not always turning to it when feeling stressed and anxious (and no - I don't always have to sneak a piece of dark chocolate after a really tough day at the office. Geesh!).

I cook with her. I show her that it is a process and talk about the good things that we put into food. One of our favorite preps is morning glory muffins. Yummmmm!!

We provide healthy and (mostly) non processed food. We use words like Super power food! and Happy body food! We have little sugar in the house and no soda. She is not denied sugar, rather it is just something to have occasionally  - like on a Friday night, at a party, or a treat from Santa in the Xmas stocking.

 Are we doing the right thing by her with our approach to food? Who knows. We question all routes we take with her in this uncharted territory and step back frequently to assess our direction and reroute, if needed. I recon this will be a lifelong struggle for her. We will do our best to pave this way for her as smoothly as possible.

This is our girl

In 5 months, we have discovered that she......

                                                     Loves to go fast!

                                                       Makes silly faces with mom

                                                  Rides horses - especially Cocoa

                                               Can be outrageous.... anything for a laugh!

                      Is always up for a dip in the tub with her ladybug cap

                                                        
                                   Is a good mommy to her bear named Honey

                 Is a lover tolerant of snow (she just has to figure out how to walk on it first)

                                 Likes being in the mountains with her brother

                                                  Is in training to be an Olympic gymnast

                                     Can seriously rock the colors pink and yellow

                                              Digs playing in the sand with her crew

 

 Is our Sassy Sissy!

 

A letter to my son

My Dearest J,

I love you with all of my heart. And then some. My love for you has tripled since we added Sister to our family. You do know that we give you the majority of the credit that she is now with us, right?  Your Dad and I had hit our emotional limit several times throughout the years with this adoption. We had a handful of stop dates marked on our calendar, but when we would tell you that we were stopping, your little soul appeared to shatter. You would cry the most genuine tears for hours at a time. You were a boy who needed his sister and was determined to see this through, so we continued on.

Being an only child for 7 years, we predicted struggles you might have with the transition of an instant 3 year old sister, but never could we have dared predict how much of a trooper you would handle it all! I know.... sometimes she is not very nice to you which leaves me to wonder if you did not get (as a sister) what you bargained for, but you tell me that you understand why she is the way she is. You say it is because she has never had a sibling and has always had to fight with other kids for what she has received and that we just need to work hard to teach her.  Even when I go to hug you (after she's kicked you in the shin), you will whisper, "Mom... now go and hug her so she does not feel left out!"

Yes, your former undivided attention has now been divided, but you never seem to care. Luckily, I have taken time off of work to spend all of my energies on you and Y.  I know you appreciate that I still try to give you equal 1:1 time still - if not more than before. It is during these cherished alone times that I share my concerns. How are you? Did you feel sad that she pushed you 3x today? Are you getting enough time on your own? I had to attend to her needs after dinner and could not hear out the story of your latest adventure, so did that hurt your feelings? He will always answer as "No". He will always say he understands all of it and that he is more happy that we have Sister (even though that means less attention comes to him) than being just alone. You have never complained.

I have seen you mature before my very eyes these last three months. Sometime I will almost reach my breaking point (after having a little one hang on my pant leg for 10 hours straight) and sensing this, you'll swoop in without asking to divert her away to an activity alone with you. You did not blink when we almost entirely cut out electronics because you said that this will just motivate you to play with Y more. As part of your maturity, you have had the tendency to want to smother and care-take her a little too much. You possess a wise-beyond-years empathy for others, but you are learning and understanding when enough is enough. I have heard you now ask for hugs and then say, "Oh, I can see that you don't want a hug right now, so I will wait." For anyone that knows your big huggy heart, this is huge for you to be able to step back and understand this!

It warms my heart each day when you tell me how much you love her and how happy you are that Y is your sister. Not a day goes by that when after you barge through our front door after school and call out for Y so that you can get right to playing, I don't think how fortunate I am to have you. To have her. That you both have each other. We are complete now - which is something you verbalize often.


Last but not least, how can I not shed light on your silly, rascally antics and how you have strengthened you and your sister's bond by tapping into her silly and rascally side, too. You have taught her her how to make zany faces, tooting on command, Lego men launches, ballet with attitude, snorkeling in the hot tub, couch trampoline, and how to promote dad's immaturity (just to name a few examples). Bellow is a glimpse into a now typical chaotic dinner prep with an "(I want an) Avocado! Avocado!"

Even though Y does not always know how to show it yet, I can tell that she is crazy about you. You are her totally awesome big brother! How can she not be nuts about you? You are the best big brother that was even born in January, 2006. And, in general, you are just the best boy EVER. To my little music maker, dancing maniac, wildly creative, clever as a whip, dramatic king, and silliest bug.... you make me proud in more ways than I can list. I love you!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO - Mom

Feeling charitable this holiday season?

Oh my, the holiday season is rapidly approaching! This is a time that you might be brainstorming on a nice gift to give to others or even hope that you receive! For our family and what we have recently experienced through adoption, we are entering this holiday season from a different prospective. First, we have spent time in a country of beautiful people who experience extreme hardships on a daily basis. A place where little monetary value for us could go a long, long way for them. Second, due to the hardships that one mother, our daughter's birth mother, has had to face in her life resulting in her need to give up her little girl to adoption, we feel a combination of great remorse, gratitude, and motivation to make a difference. Whereas we cannot change the situation that has happened in Y's  mother's situation, we hope that we can make a little difference in preventing similar situations happening to other families.

So, instead of giving a nice new sweater to someone, think about possibly putting that money toward
sponsoring a child in school for a month or making a donation that will buy 10 new books for  library? I am betting that the spirit of giving will shine brighter for both the giver and receiver with such a gift. :)

The charitable opportunities in Ethiopia are endless, but I am highlighting a few that I feel to be top-notch. I am pretty tuned in to the adoptive community and in contact with women who feel strongly about giving aid to Ethiopia. These non-profit organizations (many grass roots) have very little or zero overhead costs and seem to come up frequently as ethical organizations that do a lot of good. I will continue to add to this list as my research continues, but here is a good start. I encourage you to click on each link and see if one stirs you!


1. Lola Children's Fund  www.lolachildrensfund.org
 I put this as #1 on my list as this is the one we will be contributing to. This organization is located in our daughter's birth area of Mekele. This organization gives orphaned children who are affected by HIV a chance to receive residential care, medical care, and schooling. They also support families who are at-risk due to HIV. We will be doing the $35/mo child sponsorship program. They also have just one time donation opportunities.

2. Ethiopia Reads  ethiopiareads.org
Many adoptive families are dedicated to this cause and even make personal trips to see the benefits that this organization provides. Check out their informative website to see all that they do. Their primary focus is to build schools and libraries (including mobile libraries via motor or donkey) as well as in-service and trainings for locals that will be involved with these projects.

3. Roots Ethiopia rootsethiopia.org
This organization's main focus is providing kick start grants (to primarily women) so that they can start their own income generating businesses. Love this! In addition, they also have a school sponsorship program. It is possible to make a one time donation to a general fund or a monthly school sponsorship donation. The founder, Meghan Walsh, said that I can share my email with you all if you have specific questions meghan@rootsethiopia.org. I hear nothing but good things about this one and when we get more $$ in our pockets again, we will also be contributing to this organization.

4. FAYYE Foundation www.fayyefoundation.org
This organization was founded by a fellow WACAP adopter, Jamie Lynn Grumet. I think she is a powerhouse and I put my trust in her compassion and cause. This foundation focuses on micro loans, maternal mortality, and clean water projects.  

5. AHOPE  www.ahopeforchildren.org 
This is a school/family sponsorship program for children living with HIV. This is a long standing foundation that has a stellar reputation.

6. TESFA  www.tesfa.org 

For all my athletic friends out there, you might like this one! This foundation focuses on school construction, education, and sport development programs. They have a housing and training program for teen girl runners. You might also want to click on this movie clip: townofrunners.com  to check out of some of the good they contribute to.

7. WEEMA www.WEEMA.org
They just do a lot. Check them out!

The following are Christian school sponsorship programs that carry good reputations.

8. Embracing Hope International www.embracinghopeethiopia.com

9. Bring Love In  www.bringlove.in

10. World's Greatest Beans worldsgreatestbeans.com  These folks partner with Bring Love In and 20% of proceeds go to their foundation. Buy some beans! Support a cause!

 

The Flight

 Any travel that lasts 48 hours (25 hours in the air) is bound to contribute to an interesting story, but sprinkle in a terrorist threat, stomach flu, hysterical kid, and rude flight attendants, well, it is the makings for a novel! (Don't worry - I will just make it a cliff notes version).

As if we did not have enough to worry about flying with our scared little girl the day before our departure from Addis, we opened our email to a flood of warnings from US security that the VERY DAY we were to be flying over and staying in the middle east, there was a serious threat of a terrorist attack. All US embassy's were to be shut down the morning we were flying out. We decided to ditch our overnight hotel plans in Dubai and instead get a hotel inside the Dubai airport. We figured not traveling outside of security and into public transport would ease the stress, just a bit. 

On the morning of our departure, we knew it was going to be a struggle. Now that I know Y's personality, she was sensing that there was going to be a big happening coming up that she did not trust or understand, so she was going put herself into 100% fight or flight mode. For her, that is displayed by means of stubbornness and defiance. I get this. I really do. She was scared and confused. No doubt, any and all people might act similar in the same traumatic situation. Again, I have compassion for her experience as I share how we all struggled in this situation.

Despite prepping her for days about the concept of a seat belt, she was not going to have it in the cab ride to the airport. This was our first glimpse that we were about to enter the gates of hell.  Getting out of the cab, she went into 100% survival mode, so this meant that every single item we had that she perceived as hers (which was pretty much everything), she was not going to part with. Of course she  had to be this way... as she desperately had to hold on to all that she understood and had control over. She was going to carry/drag/push almost every piece of luggage that we had with her through the airport. Of course, she could not, so this created quite the scene for all Ethiopians in the airport to witness. If this photo above could talk, you would hear her screaming at me "NO! Y!" as I was 5 steps ahead with the rest of the loot. There are understandably mixed emotions from Ethiopians regarding Westerners coming and adopting out their children, so to be making such a huge spectacle of ourselves in such a public place was uncomfortable, to say the least.

We finally boarded the Emerits plane with our kicking and screaming child. This photo captures the brief 15 minutes that she was happy before take-off. The sweet flight attendants (on this flight) showered her with gifts to calm her down, so she had a moment of distraction. I remember mustering this smile both out of relief thinking that she might be manageable on the flight and that we were finally on the plane to bring our daughter home. About 5 seconds after this photo was taken (as you can tell, I was actually going in to snap that blasted seat belt), the following 5 hours in air to Dubai was seriously the worst 5 hours of my (our) life. She kicked and screamed in protest of her seat belt the entire time. She hated that anything had to hold her down - that a stupid rope thing had so much control over her! She fought so hard that her little body would wiggle right out of her belt. There were times that I physically had to lay my body on hers to keep her from harming herself. Beads of sweat poured off of all of us. Our neighboring passengers (in first class, nonetheless) glared at us. To make it even more unbearable, she had learned that indicating she needed to go to the bathroom meant she could get out of the belt. Stupid us did not pack pull ups, and since she was having he runs, we had to honor her requests - only to find that most of the time she would just sit on the toilet and laugh or actually go and then make sure to punish us by managing to get her feces on her hand and then on to us. Again, her need for control in her world that lacked understanding.

Alas, we landed in Dubai and learned that there was a sweet mercy in that our hotel room was literally above our gate.  Hubs deposited us in our room and left immediately to go and plead ask the airport pharmacist if there was any sleeping medication we could give our child. I can just imagine what went down. "Please Mister, don't you have anything that you can give me to put a child in a coma-like-sleep for 48 hours? Anything at all? Sleeping pills? An anesthesia drip? A pint of vodka?" (Ok, those specific requests might be exaggerated a wee bit, but we were almost feeling that desperate). Much to our demise, the answer was no. Much to our gratefulness, Hubs was not dragged away in straight jacket due to his bizarre request and his looney demeanor.

As Hubs was on this mission, I was mustering the strength to cuddle in our bed with Y to look at our photo book and explain to her best that I could that if she wanted to go to her new home tomorrow - to her bedroom, new bike, and her brother - then she was going to have to wear that seat belt. She screamed and cried some more at this information, but then we slept (for a minute) and morning came.

This photo was taken as we were just about to board our flight in Dubai and we were already realizing that things were going MUCH better. First of all, there was the realization that we were not bombed that night. That was a good thing. Next, she was chipper and laughing and then.....

she plopped her little bottom down in that airplane seat and said, "Mommy! Belt!"

That sweet little stinker insisted that belt go on and and stay on! From then on out, things were a million times better. Not perfect - as there was still the the challenge of keeping a 3 year old occupied for several hours of air travel, but much, MUCH better. I truly think she turned a corner that night and accepted that she can't fight it any longer, so just to trust and go with it. That is how she seems about life now, in general. She is such an awesome kid. :)

This is also a very good thing because about 4 hours into the flight was when my first wave of nausea hit. There was a suspected tummy bug going around our guest house and it appears that little bugger followed me home. It did not help that we had a bunch of rude flight attendants that seemed to have a personal mission statement that said we must keep the dinner trays in front of the passengers until their next meal is served so that we can be most efficient. When I asked if they could please take the stinking tray of curried lamb away after 2 hours, they rolled their eyes at my inconveniencing request as they snatched it away. After 4 hours of puking, I went back and interrupted the attendants' social hour and asked if they had any anti-nausea pills on board. When I told them I thought I had a virus, I got an "Oh great, now we are all going to get this for our return flight." They had the pill, but said I did not meet the requirement to take one, so instead shoved a glass of flat Coke in my hand and shooed me away. Husband sat next to Y and entertained her the remaining hours that I ached and shivered from fever in my seat.  So lucky that our sweet girl sensed I was not well and stepped it up even more on her good behavior. And she also got a good 4 hour nap in.

Fast forward now to rerouting flights in the US (flew from DC to San Fran to Phoenix to Salt Lake) and We FINALLY MADE IT!

By this time, Husband and I had maybe slept 2 hours of 48 and were practically hallucinating, but the joy we felt seeing our son again and experiencing him meeting his sister for the first time made it all worth it!!! 

 

The Truth About Addis (Part II)

Disclaimer: I have to apologize for the typos and embarrassing grammatical errors in advance. I want to get these memories documented before they fade - but I don't see my lack of time and fuzzy-headed-sleep-deprived mind letting up soon .... possibly for years. I pretty much have it in me to do a quick read-over then hit publish. Oh, and also, you can click on the pictures to view them larger.

A few days into our stay at the guest house, despite spending 80% of our day in the bathroom and/or in intense power struggles, Y and I were maintaining, but it was clear that she was trying her hardest to show me that she did not like me and I was gravely concerned in that I was not feeling very fond of her, either.

Besides that, there were other challenges. The one husband (that was to help out by getting food) was facing hardships of his own. My sweet adopting mama friend (his wife) became bed ridden with intestinal stuff (no thanks to the brave attempt of eating a questionable sandwich), so he was juggling infant twins and a 6 & 8 year old on his own. I didn't feel it appropriate to say, "By the way, mind heading out to get me some eggs and bananas in your spare minute?"  Pretty much all of us were facing our own set of challenges. Instead of those happy communal dinners, we were dodging each other throughout the crammed quarters of the kitchen and living areas, each on a mission to maintain our own personal crazy chaos. Because Y would bet set-off by seeing me eat food, my adrenalin kept me going just enough to focus on her eating and care taking needs in the daytime hours. The only nutrients I was getting was when I consumed my Laura Bar and a tequila shot/s at 10:00pm. Those mini bottles were the best thing I packed! I don't even like to take shots, but they became the only aide I had in helping lower that adrenalin and allowing myself to relax enough to get a few hours of sleep.

Thankfully she was a sound sleeper, so when I finally got her to sleep, I would frantically try to fix the situations that failed that day. For example, one night I had to move clothes out of her hand's reach up to a storage area above the closet. Having access to so many clothes triggered huge anxieties. She would have to change in and out of every single clothing item - then end up needing to somehow wear them all on her body. Understandably, this little one was just wanting to protect each new thing that was being established as hers, because she has had so little in life. When we left the room, just knowing that she had clothes (and other belongings) being left unsupervised was extremely difficult for her. No doubt she was used to coming back and not having them there anymore. Toys, books,  and photos were also a trigger for anxiety, so I had to strategically stash the toys where I could sneak a new one out on the sly - and at a rate that would not heighten her anxiety. She started to feel comfortable leaving a few things in a little drawer in our room, but besides that, she had a talent of stashing things in her tiny backpack, clothes, crook of her neck, armpits, between her legs, behind her ear. Pretty much every nook and cranny imaginable. 

Another thing that was very difficult for Y was my husband not being there. We were her unit, so when he did not show up with me on the second trip, the tone was set for challenges stemming from her confusion. One man, in particular, passed through our guesthouse en route to the north. He did resemble Husband and she was certain that he was Dad. It was very upsetting to her that he was not responsive to her and that I had to tell her that he was not her dad.

And as sort of an off topic side note, I can't leave out the fact that the weather was just the icing on the cake. Just scrap that visual of all of Ethiopia being hot and dry. Addis is actually the 3rd highest elevation capital city on earth! It was the rainy season and extremely cold! I did not bring appropriate clothing and because of the rain, laundry being hung out to dry never did dry, so we were wearing the same few warm (and eventually disgusting) clothes day after day after day and shivering most of the time.

After 4 days of all of this, I sent Husband an S.O.S email. Get. On. That. Plane. NOW! Thankfully he could bump up his flight a few days earlier.

Things got a little better when Husband first arrived. I could finally eat some food and even get us all out of the guesthouse confines for little walks. She was hysterical if either was out of her immediate range, but was manageable with one parent within earshot in the kitchen or bathroom.

 

The dynamic that was soon created by having him arrive started to turn problematic, however.  In those first 5 days, just the two of us had started to establish consistency and a routine. When husband arrived, he was understandably excited by her excitement of seeing him and the two of them went right at it with playing ball, chase, etc. In her eyes, he was simply now the entertainment while I was the provider and rule enforcer. Along with this came even more lashing out and rejection of me. I admit that this was the hardest time for me emotionally. I felt I was doing all of the hard work and getting the most defiance and abuse (bruises as proof!). It was equally difficult for Husband to see this happen, so when he tried to step up his assertiveness and she started distributing her defiance to us both - this is when we hit rock bottom.


One night, after a particularity difficult night, we got her to bed around 11:00pm, then the two of us literally laid in bed, curled up in a fetal position and bawled. Seriously. These random thoughts came out of our mouths between sobs: How could we feel so beaten down and defeated by a 25 pounder of a 3 year old? Had her life thus far damaged her for always? Does she have R.A.D? Are we going to be the best parents for her needs? Will we ever love her? Will she ever love us? Will she always reject me? Will she always be this hard? Was this a huge mistake for our family? Can we do this? We went in to the adoption knowing that this is the reality for some adoptive families, and we were certain that we got ourselves into a desperate situation.

But....

We did start to turn the corner. Hallelujah! A few days before we boarded the plane for home, I  attribute these 4 things to helping us start to move forward.

1) I started a crash course in Tingrainia. I overlapped at the guesthouse with a very smart and prepared couple that learned the language before they took custody of their two older girls. After I  face planted Y into bed gently lulled Y to sleep at night, I would meet this couple on the porch for my language lesson. Between tequila shots, I furiously wrote down in my little black moleskin book essential phrases (Bathroom? Poo? Pee? Eat this. Hungry? Careful! Danger! I don't like that, I really don't like that, I love you, this is not a toy, enough already, It is OK to do that, Great job! etc.). I would then stumble back into my room and rewrite these phrases in big writing on construction paper and taped them on the wall so they could be quickly referenced. Finding a common ground for us to communicate was essential. I eventually realized that much of Y's behaviors were due to her lack of understanding. I have also learned that she really wants to do the right thing - she just needs to understand what things are about and what is expected of her.

2) My wise and experienced adopter friend there with me - the one who landed herself in the hospital (and mended quickly!) - gave me words of gold in advise. "I think you are figuring out that this girl is smart and how she ticks. Your sweet and gentle attachment parenting approach (one that my social worker schooled me on as the only way to parent an adopted child) is working to an extent, but now maybe you should parent with your instinct. What would you do if your son were to spit at you? Would you gently say that it is not okay with you then just give him a replacement activity? That is part of it, but also make sure that she is clear of what your boundaries are instead of glossing them over. I think your little girl really needs this." I had wanted to act more like the parent that I really am with her, but was scared that it would be detrimental to our bonding . With her advise in mind, the next defiant act was met with a look in the eye and a pissed off stern voice, "I do NOT like that, that is NOT ok, and you need a time-out!" Her time-out (called a time-in) was a little different than my son's, in that I sat with her against the wall and cradle hugged her for 15 seconds. It then ended it with a smile, a cuddle, and a "let's try that again". Wowza - was this ever effective! After her first time-in, her stunned silence was followed by the deepest, most mournful cry. It was like she just then figured out that I was the real deal and someone to take seriously. It only took a few more time-in's to start to make progress. Toward the end (and even now), all I have to do is give a warning - "If you do that again, you will get a time-in" and she will almost always stop. In fact, this sweet child of mine will actually now smile and nod at me like ohhh.... so that is not OK, well, I sure am glad you let me know! At the time of writing this, she has only had one time-in in the last two weeks! A miracle!!

3) I taught her how to count to three. "1...2...3...Becca (enough, all done!)" She totally got this and this statement is still used to stop an activity.  After a reasonable amount of time with an activity (such as washing hands), a simple "1...2...3...becca" started to help our transitions nicely - turning those 1 hour bathroom trips turn to a smooth 10 minute routine.

4) Allowing myself (ourselves) to slow down so that we can give her independence within our routine. Things such as dressing herself, carrying the grocery bags, brushing teeth after every meal, and setting the table with the same place settings (fork, cup, spoon) can be painstakingly long and taxing on the patients, but it is so essential to her independent soul.

After almost 2 weeks, we were making strides with our attachment, but then there was embassy to contend with. I won't go into detail, but so many things had to fall in place with precision that last week so that we could get on our return flight. To make matters worse, our travel agent was sending us frantic emails stating that if we did not get on our scheduled flight that very day, we would be stuck there for at least 3 more weeks as every single flight was booked. I  badgered the embassy to push us through. Finally, we did reach the very end - the embassy interview. This is when we take Y to the US Embassy and meet with personnel to wrap things up and to get our travel documents. I thought for sure they would look at our lunatic faces deeply imbedded with stress and tear stains and prevent the adoption from continuing. We secretly thought... maybe that will happen and we will luck out?
 



THANKFULLY, they did process our paperwork and two days later, we boarded our flight home. I can't imagine anything going differently now. As I continue to document the truly amazing girl that Y is, I look forward to starting to share how the behaviors she displayed in Addis were simply glimpses into her brilliantly strong, loving, and resilient mind and soul. She was displaying those traits in very appropriate ways; such as showing her anger, fear, independence, confusion, and loss. We just had to learn about each other is all.

Stay tuned for the next post: Addis to Dubai, Dubai to San Fran, and our flight from hell.

The Truth About Addis (Part I)

It has been as hard for me to sit down and write about our time in Addis as it is equally difficult to comprehend. Was that really only two months ago? It feels two years. It is surreal the progress that we have made and the different little girl we have now - and the different parents that we are now to her.

As a friend put it ... of course it took us so long for this adoption to happen because SHE was not adoptable yet. This one is meant for us and we are meant for her. Each day we are falling more in love with each other and she is fitting more into our family like that missing piece of our puzzle. It is still work parenting this child, but the progress we make each day is remarkable.  It really just feels like we now have a toddler with an adoptive/attachment spin to it. There are now many more hugs and laughs than hard times, and when there are hard times, we are approaching these situations from a place of love and compassion rather than a place of fear and frustration.

The scared, angry, defiant little girl that she was in Ethiopia, however, makes sense. Being removed from the situation in Ethiopia now and having the time to analyze what took place, my heart breaks for her and how it all must have seemed from her point of view. She did what she does best and what has made her transition into our family so seamless. Survival. She is a fighter. She's an independent, smart, relentless fighter. She was fighting against us and now she fights for us and finding her place in our family. She continues to fight to make sense and gain acceptance into this new life of hers.

And then there was (is) grief. I think. Honestly, I wish I understood if and how she was (is) grieving - or if she has even needed to. Being able to process grief is an important thing, so I continue to try to understand what this is for her. From what is seems - and even from what her caretakers in ET mentioned - her life was hard. Very hard. They claimed that she was bright enough to verbalize that she did not want that life she had for herself. Hard to believe a 3 year old can think this way, but really, I almost think she did. ? . She has only had one night of crying a cry that resembles grief, but that is it.  Even then, I felt she was more grieving that her independence was being compromised more than the grief from a world she was loosing. Nine months ago this girl was on the streets finding her own food and shelter. Then, being thrown into a situation that was beyond her control, there was all of the sudden some weird lady with funny skin, smells, and clothes hovering over her and essentially dictating her life in a way that was completely foreign. I am sure that was hard for her! How could that not be?
 

Who Husband and I were in Ethiopia also makes sense. We were parents that realized our limitations were being maxed and were fiercely protective of our marriage and our precious son at home. She was fighting like hell not to love us as we were fighting like hell to love her. Really, it is so hard to explain unless one is in that kind situation, but trust me, it is a place of raw and scary fear.
 
 For numerous reasons, Husband and I decided that I was to go to Addis Ababa (Ethiopian capital) solo to take custody of Y a week before him. We would then all fly home together a week after he arrived (if all went accordingly with Embassy). We felt confident in this plan because we had left our sweet, kind, mellow, happy little girl just 4 weeks before. How hard could she be? Piece of cake! What made it even better was that I was going to go and join my new adopting mama friends as a sort of an in-country-newly-adoptive-family-support-group. We had decided prior to travel that we were all going get our children from the orphanage and stay in a guest house together while we worked on wrapping up embassy. We were discouraged to go out with our children beyond our little neighborhood in the daytime and anywhere after dark, but no problem! Two out of the three of us women had our husbands joining the week later, but one woman's husband came with her. They brought their two sons that they had adopted a few years earlier and were now adopting twins. Thankfully, as part of our master plan dictated, this one husband would be the sole food fetcher. It all just seemed fool-proof.  It would be just one big, happy two week bondfest with fun craft activities and communal dinners! It would be like a college trip with the roomies - only with our newly adopted foreign children on our hips. Yippee!

 Upon my arrival, I also had a well thought-out plan in the works. I would spend the night of arrival and the next day orienting myself, stocking up on food, and resting off some of the jet lag.  The day after my arrival, I would just make a brief visit to Y's orphanage while using translators to prep her of her departure the following morning. But as best laid plans go, it did not quite happen that way.  I got a ride to the orphanage at 9:00 am the next morning after my arrival. At 9:45 am, I was driving back to the guest house with Y on my lap! She was not going to have it any other way. The moment I stepped out of the van at the WACAP house, she saw me and we ran into each other's arms, hugged, quickly played a little game of catch the ball, then she disappeared.  A few minutes later she marched out of her room with her little backpack on (containing all that she owned), marched up to the van, looked and me, pointed to the van, and said, "Nay (come). Mama. Nay." So, that was that. She did a brief, unemotional good-bye to her temporary caregivers (only at this transitional orphanage for a month) and we were on our way to our new lives!

In retelling some of our experience and her behaviors in the guesthouse, from the outside looking in, surely it seems I might have been insensitive to the reasons for why she did what she did. As I mentioned early, I have emerged from the situation with great compassion for her experience. She was frightened and on hyper-throttle-survival mode. I wish more than ever that I could get in her head and tell this story from her perspective, but I obviously can't, so I will be sharing from the difficult perspective of our situation.

The first night was interesting, to say the least. It all started with our first trip to the bathroom. I mean, come on! A toilet that flushed, toilet paper, a sink with soap, and a towel?! All in one place? It was just too much! And from that first bathroom trip and then on forward, this is pretty much how the first three days went: Sit on toilet. Pee and squirt poo. Unroll entire toilet paper... but wait! Toilet paper was a scarce commodity, so mom had to control the toilet paper distribution. Through many hours of sweat and tears, we figured out that it was okay if I put toilet paper bunches in each hand (and then quickly hide the roll without her seeing). I then had to lift her up to the 4 foot high pedestal sink and let her take the soap from the dish, wash her hands, rinse, turn off the faucet, dry with the towel, and then turn off the light - all on her own. Sounds simple enough, right? Wrong! No joke - that first bathroom trip took one hour and ten minutes. From then on, the average trip was 40 minutes. That would be okay if she were to only go a few times a day, but rather, she would leave the bathroom to go and binge on food and water to then only have to go 10 minutes later. The last few days of our stay we got it down to 15 minutes, which was a cause for celebration.


Honestly, if someone asks what some of my most vivid memories of Addis Ababa were, I would have to say that it was the stuff that happened in those two bathrooms that we used. Major intense stuff happened within those tiled fortresses! It was always a delicate dance of allowing her independence and the establishment of our boundaries and expectations. As hard as it was, I don't regret the hours we spent there - as it was there that we figured some important things out.

 In or out of those bathrooms, if something was not done exactly the way she wanted it in the time she wanted it during the bathroom routine... or a play activity, how food was presented to her, how we walked down the stairs, what she wore, what I wore, how I looked at her, if we did not use the same cup, fork, hair band....the result would be a dreadful tantrum or an eruption of intensely defiant behaviors. 

 And then there was the testing. Her brightness shined as she figured out from day one, despite my neutral affect that I had mastered from teaching the kids I have taught, what triggered me.


"Mommy!" .... look at me hold this piece of china in the air. Now watch me smash it to the floor then laugh like a hyena as I walk on the glass shards with my bare feet.

"Mommy!".... come here now so I can kick you in the leg.

"Mommy".... watch me try and yank down this 5 foot mirror that's suspended by one nail on top of me.

"Mommy!"... watch me get into your chapstick and lotions and rub them all over your clothes.

"Mommy!" ... let me look at your reaction as I put poo on my hand and try to rub it in your face.

"Mommy!"... look how funny it is for me to take this fork and jab it down my throat. Don't care it gags me and makes my throat bleed as it is totally worth getting a reaction from you!

"Mommy!.... let me just catch a glimpse of your slight reaction of horror so I can laugh hysterically when you show me a picture of my brother and then I do the sign like I am going to slit his throat.

"Mommy!".... let me just see if I can spit far enough across the room and have it land on your face (which it would) and then wake you at night by leaning over your face and dropping spit balls on your nose.

"Mommy!" .... guess what? Pretty much if you try to hold my hand (down the slippery marble stairs - this house had about 300 stairs and was anything but child proof), hold me from jumping out the window, dare cut my hard boiled egg so I can't shove it whole down my throat, or basically do anything other than what I want, then I will glare at you in the eye and say, "Tit-tu-ma!" (I hate you!), kick you, spit in your face, then laugh like the devil. I will - just try me. I dare you.


Thank God there were occasional giggles and smiles in between to recharge our batteries. When I felt like her spirits were up, we would go down to a common area and visit with other adopters and their children. When I could see her run and laugh and interact with the others, then optimism would flood over me. I would see glimpses of the fantastic kid that she is and that we did have a good little chemistry about us.

Stay tuned for part ll....