A Piece of Family History

It is very rare that we get a chance to see most of our extended family, since they live in other states, so when my Great Aunt Gail and Cousin Debby came from Montana to Washington to attend a wedding, we decided we could not miss an opportunity to catch up with them!  Here is how I always think of Aunt Gail, frozen in time, showing her great-nieces hospitality (and a rare treat of soda pop) with a lovely smile on her face.  (I am the ridiculously chubby munchkin with the crazy blonde hair in the picture below.)  
I wanted to make sure than my kids would have a chance to meet their Great-Great Aunt, so my mom and I loaded them up in the van and took off for what became (thanks to traffic on a Friday afternoon) a four hour drive.  

But thanks to a milkshake break along the way:

some naps to make the trip go a bit faster, along with Micah's incessant but cheerful humming and growling (this is his chewing-on-his-hands-while-humming-and-growling-in-the-car face):

 and a stunning view of Mount Rainier:

. . . we finally arrived at the motel where they were staying!

Micah climbed right up on the bed and made himself comfortable (I think he decided we were sleeping there) and the rest of the kids were pretty calm and well-behaved, considering we were all crowding into  a rather cozy, not-so-kid-friendly motel room) and they finally got to meet Aunt Gail!  She is just as lovely as I remembered her from when I was a kid, and it was so neat to be able to give my kids another piece of family history.  They don't get to meet many people from my side of the family, due to distance, and Gracie was so excited to hear that she was named, not only after her Daddy's grandmother who was named Grace, but also after Gail's sister Grace (my grandmother, whom the kids never had a chance to meet).  I love seeing the light bulb go on when kids start to really piece together how extended family works.  Like that moment when, after years of being around their Grandma Doris, it finally occurs to them that their Grandma is my mommy!  So sweet.  I just love that.  

Micah and Aunt Gail getting acquainted 

the Tinkertoys kept the kids pretty busy, thank goodness!

Isaac showing Cousin Debby one of the movies he has made

Gideon is very big on sorting these days

My Aunt Gail is back in Montana again now, and I have no idea when I will be able to make it back over there again.  A visit like that involves a brutally long two days, full ten hour days, of driving, with kids strapped in carseats . . . It is just a really gruelling trip to make with this crowd.  So I was so very blessed to be able to see Aunt Gail like this, meeting in the middle, and give my kids the opportunity to make memories with this lovely lady.  Our visit ended all too soon, but it was so worth the drive!     And despite the fact that I have seen her recently, I think in my mind, I will always remember Aunt Gail like this:

(And just as a side note, that adorable brown-haired cutie on the left is my sister, Mary.  

No question who my little Gracie takes after, is there?)

My Little Cowboy

My mom took this photo of my little Josiah.  

Seriously love this picture!

School Days

First day of school

Josiah is ready for kindergarten

Gideon is way too busy checking out the bus . . .

. . . and his lunch to smile for the camera!

Blessing is ready for another fun year, too!

This year we are trying something a little different, at least different for a family that has always homeschooled.  In the mornings, Gideon and Josiah are going to half-day kindergarten at the small country school up the road, and Micah is going in the afternoons.  

Blessing, Gideon, and Micah are spending most of their days in a small special ed. classroom, with opportunities to join the general ed setting for music, recess, lunch, circle time, free-choice, and other appropriate times.  Their time in the special ed room is spent with one-on-one aides, working on their individual learning goals, learning how to transition from one learning activity to the next, practicing communication skills, including PECS and sign language, and improving social skills and emotional regulation.  

The kids' teacher and aides are amazing and so committed to helping our kids.  I was a bit concerned about whether such a small, rural school was the right fit for my kids, but we are seeing amazing student-teacher ratios, a program built specifically to meet the needs and goals of our kids (since they didn't exactly have a special ed program until we came along . . . ), students who are nice and respectful to my children and make a point to greet them by name when they see them, an everybody-knows-everybody environment where nobody can possibly fall through the cracks . . . We are really feeling great peace with the school situation at this point!  

Meanwhile, Isaac is enjoying fourth grade homeschool this year, and I think he is especially benefiting from fewer noise and distractions during the mornings with three of the kids out of the house.  Gracie spends her mornings taking leisurely bubble baths, playing with her dollhouse, and putting puzzles together (she is a totally different kid without Josiah around to get her riled up!) and Micah scoots around the house and amuses himself nicely, and Isaac gets a peaceful calm that is nearly impossible to find with Josiah revving things up and Gideon bopping around and bouncing off the walls.  Isaac really learns well when everything is very calm and there is not much going on around him . . . a tough scenario to achieve generally, but we are all seeing much better focus and emotional regulation this school year.  We are ALL loving that aspect of the new plan!

Isaac made this plant display for science

 Josiah just loves having homework to do, and a backpack to wear, and his own group of friends, (instead of just tagging along with Isaac and his friends) and he comes home sweaty and smiling and full of snippets of information each day.

 Gideon has already settled in quite a bit, and we are seeing far fewer emotional outbursts and panic attacks than we saw at first.  He is getting the hang of the daily routine, and he knows what to expect every day.  He has his picture schedule on the wall at school, and he is learning to exchange pictures with his teacher to show her what he wants.  Our hope is that he will be able to be more fully integrated into the general ed setting at some point in the future, but currently that setting is very emotionally overwhelming and overstimulating for him, and he seems very happy and calm when I peek into the little classroom that he and Blessing share, so we believe that is the best setting for him at this time.  

 And Micah?  Well, I was not sure how Micah would feel about the bus and school and being away from home.  But here he is, scooting himself right out the front door to go get on the bus the first day!

Totally not wanting to pose for the camera.  

He just wants to get going!  

His wheelchair is STILL on order (seven months now, folks!  But that is a whole other post) so he is riding the little bus in a carseat until he has his chair to ride in.  And he feels comfortable in carseats nowadays, so the bus went very well.  He looks upset in these next two pictures, but I think it was just the sun in his eyes, because he really did very well!  I rode along the first day to make sure, and he just looked out the window and enjoyed the ride!  Love my brave boy!  

 And at school he has been doing great.  He likes to scoot himself around the room, checking everything out, and he seems happy to be there!  

Oh, and Gracie is doing preschool with a couple of her little cousins each week at her auntie's house, and then in the afternoons when Isaac is done with his schoolwork he gets free time and I am able to focus on some kindergarten games and activities and read-alouds with Gideon, Gracie, and Josiah.  So overall, I am really loving our new schedule, and feeling like we are getting so much accomplished!  

Six Years Old

 Gideon turned six years old, and to celebrate, we invited a couple of families over.  I was really trying to keep this event low-key, since Gideon is very easily overwhelmed.  Cupcakes and root beer floats in the yard, with some kids running around petting the goats and playing tag.  Gideon was staying fairly calm for the first part of the party, when everybody was just moving around him, talking, playing, etc.  Then came the part where everybody turned toward him, gathered around, and broke into song.  Yeah.  That really did not go over so well.  The boy completely panicked.  We snapped the picture above as he blew out the candle (we had been practicing that part, and he did great!) but that tense look on his face, his eyes averted from the crowd . . . oh, my sweet little boy.  Within moments of this picture being taken, he was ready to go inside and take a break from the party.  He was too nervous and anxious to even try a bite of cupcake, so we went inside and had some downtime, just mommy and Gideon.  As long as it is just me and him and the family, hanging out at home, Gideon is usually happy and calm.  But if we go out in public, or if people come over, we just never quite know what is going to send him into a panic.  We look for the triggers, like transitions, raised voices, unexpected events.  We look for the warning signs of escalation: rapid breathing, wild, glazed eyes, clenched fists, hysterical giggling.  We try to redirect and head it off.  Sometimes we succeed.  Sometimes we don't. 

 After a little while, I thought he was ready to come out and lick the frosting off his cupcake, but as you can see from his body language in the pictures below, he was clearly still suffering from quite a bit of anxiety.  Hunkered down, avoiding eye contact, tense and teetering on the edge of panic.  All because he was surrounded by a small crowd of people who love him and wanted to celebrate his special day with him.  He had no idea what to do with that.

 Some days I see such huge strides with my dear little Gideon.  Amazing progress.  Astounding breakthroughs.  Beautiful milestones being met.  I see him becoming stronger, and calmer, and more in touch.  And then a day like this comes along, where we all just want it to be fun and relaxed, and instead Gideon is in panic mode.  
And I just want to fix this for him.  I want him to be able to relax and enjoy his birthday party.  I want to go back and reclaim the five birthdays that I missed . . . that he missed.  I want those five and a half years back.  The years that were stolen from him.  I want to be able to swaddle him as a newborn, and rock him to sleep, and to build those crucial neural pathways in his little brain that mommies build when the gaze into their baby's face and touch their cheeks and say sweet, silly, beautiful things.  I want to be able to go back, and re-do those years, so that he could know that when he spills his milk, he will not be hit.  When he is naughty, he does not need to cringe and cower in fear.  When people gather around him, smiling and singing to him, he does not need to panic.  

I want to be able to give to him what I cannot.  I want to take away this anxiety and fear.  I want his heart to be trusting and calm.  I just want so much for him, and I missed out on the five most crucial years of his life.  And instead of hugs and eye contact and rocking to sleep, he was laying in an orphanage, waiting.  We have so much lost time to make up for.  

And on days like this, when Gideon reminds me of how very wounded he is, I am angry.  How can I not be?  People have hurt my baby.  Through abandonment, and neglect, and abuse, my baby's heart has been deeply scarred.  I am angry, and I am sad, and I am helpless to take away this hurt.  

He had a lot of trouble calming down enough to open his gifts, but he did really like this little vibrating bug toy from his Grams. 

I guess I am just sharing this raw truth with the world because I do not want to make it seem as though Gideon's transition into his new life has been without bumps.  And because I want the world to know what the reality is for children who grow up in orphanages.  And because I want people to know that no matter how wounded my son's heart is, and how much he screams and panics and tantrums and acts out, he is a delight to me and I would do anything for him.  He did not deserve this.  No child does.  

Gideon is home now, and he is healing.  He is learning what it means to have a birthday party.  He is learning what it means to look into a mommy's eyes.  He is learning to trust.  He is learning to let daddy hug him.  He is learning to let a hug calm him down instead of scratching his ears and legs until they bleed, and ripping out fistfuls of his own hair to calm himself.  He is learning how to go out into the big wide world, even if it seems really, really scary.  He is learning, all day, every day.  He has five and a half years to make up for, and he is learning as much as he can, as fast as he can.  But on days like this, when life simply feels too overwhelming . . . the road just seems so long.  

And I want you, my dear readers, to know that there are so many children still waiting for a chance.  A chance to be loved, and to begin to heal.  Not all children in orphanages are physically abused.  Not all of them are as severely neglected as my son was.  But all children need family.  All children need love.  They need their own special place in the world, where they know they belong, always and forever, no matter what.  

Is it scary to adopt a child, knowing that he is coming with this sort of baggage?  Heck, yeah.  But it would be far, far scarier to think of leaving him there.

 These were the adoption photo-listing pictures taken of Gideon when he was waiting at the orphanage. 

I know this look.  This is a scared, nervous, shut-down look that I still see on occasion.  I saw this look just today, when I was walking through the living room and accidentally slipped on one of his toy cars.  I cried out as I slipped, and Gideon, on his hands and knees driving his little cars, heard me cry out and immediately threw his hands over his head, rolled onto his back like a turtle, and stared up at me, frozen in terror, as though he thought he was about to be slapped.  That panic is so deep in his heart, with a hair-trigger that is still on high alert.  It broke my heart to see him so terrified.  And it breaks my heart to see that look in this photo.  So many years I missed.  So many days.  So many moments.  I just want to scoop that boy up and kiss his hair and take away his pain.  When I see him looking so small and vulnerable on that chair, my heart breaks for him all over again.  I wonder where I was that day.  What I was doing.  Before I even knew that I had a son whose heart was being broken.

Gideon is worth it.  Some days are easier for him than others.  Some moments feel insane, when he is screaming and self-harming because going into an office building sends him into a full-blown panic attack, and all I wanted to do was run a quick errand, and instead it ends up being a gigantic fiasco with me sittting cross-legged on the hallway floor of that office building, hugging and rocking a sweaty, raging, struggling, terrified boy, while dozens of annoyed workers poke their heads out of their doorways to glare at our spectacle, and my other kids are standing around, bewildered and restless, as the quick errand morphs into a huge, emotional meltdown out of the blue.  Yeah. Some moments with Gideon are really intense.  But he is worth it.

Gideon is not alone in this world anymore.  I cannot fix this, but I can be here with him, every step of the way.  I can hug him, and love him, and never give up on him, and I can teach him new ways to deal with his very big feelings.  And as much as I love Gideon, and as much as I cry for him when he is hurting, I know that our Healer loves him even more, and cries for him more deeply.  And it is our Healer who gives me hope.  Hope that these wounds on Gideon's heart are not mortal.  Hope that healing is possible.  That what has been broken can be made whole.  Our God is bigger than this hurt.  Our God is stronger than the baggage.  Our God is love, and His love will win.

And I want to leave you with my beautiful boy's shining smile as he shows off one of his new accomplishments:

 After some initial fear and panic, Gideon decided that sitting on the toilet was not so scary after all, and he has not had a messy diaper for weeks now.  He does not tell me when he has to go, but as long as I remember to stay on schedule and keep putting him on the seat throughout the day, he does great.  And his beaming grin when mommy claps and cheers for him . . . after sharing with you about the intensity of his panic attacks, I just felt that I should leave you with this.  Yes, there are those moments that are intense and heart-breaking.  But they are not what dominates our days.  These moments are the ones I treasure.  These moments are plentiful, and beautiful.  The moments where Gideon is smiling, and his eyes are looking right at me, not afraid, not nervous, just delighting in life.  Full of joy and wonder and excitement.  I love this kid so much.  And I thank God for him every single day.

Micah's Milestones (a.k.a. Micah's Miracles)

According to Micah's CT scan, he has very little brain and a whole lot of fluid inside his skull.  The untreated hydrocephalus caused massive damage to his brain for the first four years of his life, and the profound neglect  did not do him any favors, either.  His neurologist is amazed.  I am amazed.  According to his CT scan, he should not be able to do the things he is doing.  Like feeding himself:

and coming to me when I call him (well, I am actually signing and beckoning and smiling big at him too, in addition to calling him, since we know he is very hearing impaired) and he is climbing up onto furniture, and back off again, and sitting up beautifully (although he still always has to keep one hand on the ground for support):

He is not quite crawling, but he is Army-crawling now:

and scooting himself around the house on his bottom:

He drew today, for the very first time:

although he still is not sure how excited he is about this coloring thing.  But Mommy was so, so excited that I think he may have wondered if coloring is not so bad after all.  Still, I think he was way more excited about the marker lid.  He absolutely LOVES toys that fit over his fingers.  LOVES them.

I have not yet caught him signing on video, but I will have to try to capture it, so I can show you that this boy is UNDERSTANDING the concept of sign language!  I was starting to wonder when/if the lightbulb would ever come on.  He is now signing "please," "all done," "sleep," and "more."  I can't even tell you how excited I am that we are communicating!  Gideon has been signing for quite awhile now, and I am so giddy with Mommy excitement that Micah is joining in!  I am working on a few other signs with Micah, showing him and doing hand-over-hand, signs like yogurt and oatmeal and diaper and . . . well, a whole bunch of other ones!  We are also starting to introduce picture cards for communication, so I will keep you posted on that fun, as well!  

He is beginning to play with toys instead of just throwing them or hitting himself in the head:

He is standing up so nice and tall:

And even starting to take little tiny steps when supported:

And he has become such a lovebug!

I have been reading a book called 

The Brain That Changes Itself.  

Fascinating.  I don't find a lot of spare time to read these days, but what I have read so far is HUGE.  Inspiring.  Hope-filled.  Challenging.  Confusing.  Miraculous.  I wish I could make this book required reading for every doctor, therapist, and teacher my kids come into contact with.  

Here is a brief description of the book:

An astonishing new science called "neuroplasticity" is overthrowing the centuries-old notion that the human brain is immutable. In this revolutionary look at the brain, psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Norman Doidge, M.D., provides an introduction to both the brilliant scientists championing neuroplasticity and the people whose lives they've transformed. From stroke patients learning to speak again to the remarkable case of a woman born with half a brain that rewired itself to work as a whole, The Brain That Changes Itself will permanently alter the way we look at our brains, human nature, and human potential.

And here are some reviews:

From Publishers Weekly

For years the doctrine of neuroscientists has been that the brain is a machine: break a part and you lose that function permanently. But more and more evidence is turning up to show that the brain can rewire itself, even in the face of catastrophic trauma: essentially, the functions of the brain can be strengthened just like a weak muscle. Scientists have taught a woman with damaged inner ears, who for five years had had "a sense of perpetual falling," to regain her sense of balance with a sensor on her tongue, and a stroke victim to recover the ability to walk although 97% of the nerves from the cerebral cortex to the spine were destroyed. With detailed case studies reminiscent of Oliver Sachs, combined with extensive interviews with lead researchers, Doidge, a research psychiatrist and psychoanalyst at Columbia and the University of Toronto, slowly turns everything we thought we knew about the brain upside down. He is, perhaps, overenthusiastic about the possibilities, believing that this new science can fix every neurological problem, from learning disabilities to blindness. But Doidge writes interestingly and engagingly about some of the least understood marvels of the brain. (Mar. 19)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. 

"Mind-bending, miracle-making, reality-busting stuff with implications for all human beings."
-The New York Times

"A remarkable and hopeful portrait of the endless adaptability of the human brain."
-Oliver Sacks

"The power of positive thinking finally gains scientific credibility."
-The New York Times

Anyway, I am always researching and trying to learn more, and this is my latest discovery.  Anyone else read this book?

It seems that a lot of people lately have asked me, in a hushed tone, "So how is it really going?"  And I can tell them, and tell you, that it is really going just as great as you see here.  I am not just saying that things are great.  They truly are.  Sure, these kids are busy, and expensive, and complicated.  They are a lot of work to get from here to there.  They are noisy.  They have a lot of appointments.  They have anxiety issues that still make it tricky to go anywhere without panic attacks and screaming fits.  And even with all of that, I can say, completely and without hesitation, that I am blessed more than I know how to express.