Bountiful

God is in the business of answering prayers, y'all.  And not just in any old way.  BIG ways.  Ways that you cannot deny Him.  I love it.  His presence has been and continues to be so evident in our family as we walk our journey with Hannah.  Such amazing and blessed grace He continually pours out on us.

Yesterday was a big day.  Hannah endured the first of several surgeries she will have in the course of her lifetime to address her cleft lip and palate.  There were many fears and anxieties going into this first surgery and many very specific prayer requests made.  He answered.  Each and every single one of them.

Hannah was so peaceful and brave throughout the process yesterday.  So, so very brave and resilient.  She is a fighter.  We had precious time with her in pre-op, seeing some last huge smiles, scrunched nose giggles, and puckered up lips.  We each got our final clefty kisses and felt at ease with the change about to occur.  The anesthesia team was amazing and ever so attentive to her needs as a newly adopted child.  Our prayer now is that we will get to work with both the same anesthesiologist and the same anesthesiologist nurse for her next surgery this summer.  Their passion and compassion was evident each step of the way.  We are so thankful for their sensitivity (down to treating her differently to avoid night terrors as she woke up!) and attention to detail in keeping our daughter secure and comfortable yesterday. 

Our surgeon, Dr. L....  We cannot sing his praises enough.  He was so compassionate as he knew our emotional attachment to how Hannah looked with her cleft.  He was skilled in his work with her and so gentle and relaxed in his interactions with Hannah.  He was cautious and wise to ask us to stay the night (even though none of us wanted to) and readily accessible to us for all of our questions.  His work on Hannah's face is astonishing and brought a flood of tears to my eyes as I saw her for the first time yesterday.  She looks so very different, but she is still our sweet Hannah.

Our nurses.  Y'all.  Our NURSES!  They are so much an important factor influencing the quality of your time in the hospital.  God did not disappoint us with either of our nurses.  The sweetest thing?  I had specifically asked my Bible Study group to pray for us to have opportunities in our time in the hospital to share the gospel through adoption and just share our passion for the orphan.  God blessed us with two amazing nurses and a precious nursing student who just took to Hannah immediately and obeyed the nudging in their hearts to ask us more questions about adoption, about Hannah, and about our journey to her.  We were able to truly share our hearts and it was so glorious to see the spark in the heart of another yet-to-be mama who is feeling the flame of passion for the orphans of this world.  What a gift it was to share so freely all of God's doing in our journey and also see such sweet, passionate nurses doing all they possibly could to make our time in the hospital as bearable as possible.  Seriously, our second prayer request, in addition to the anesthesiologist for next time is for the same nurses.  Nurse Katie and Nurse Emily are rare treasures and we hope we get to see them again and continue to form friendships and bonds over our love for orphans!

Hannah--I have no words to express the transformation in our baby girl.  The bonding that has occurred through the course of this surgery with Hannah, myself, and Chris has been so precious.  Hannah has allowed Chris to care for her in ways we could have only dreamed of.

This week has been so much of God's weaving and planning.  Blessings heaped upon blessings.

Hannah is home now and working on recovering.  I hope to post another about her post operative prayer needs.  Thank you for loving us, for loving our girl, and for faithfully beseeching our Lord in prayer.  Our cup runneth over....

Surgery Specifics

Once again, our family has been overwhelmed by the flood of loving support and encouragement to us as we approach Hannah's first surgery tomorrow.  You are each a gift to us and your prayers are such a tremendous blessing to each of us.  Thank you.

I haven't been very specific about some aspects with Hannah's surgery because--well--we just didn't have all the specifics until today.  Now we have the full picture of what lies ahead (sort of) and we'll fill you in so you can know best how to pray for us tomorrow.

God is already showing us His supreme care and protection for Hannah.  One of our primary concerns with any of Hannah's procedures has been the need to deny her food--a huge source of trust and comfort for her.  We were not looking forward to this and were anxious about what potential damage it could cause in our relationship with her.  As of about three hours ago, we were set to be the second procedure of the day--meaning Hannah would not even be taken back for her procedure until about 10:30 in the morning tomorrow and we would have to deny her food until that time.  This had us nervous.  Huge praise!  Protocol with the little ones at the hospital is that they go in order of age.  Youngest kiddos go first.  There was one child younger than Hannah scheduled for tomorrow.  We got our call a little after 12 and found out that the child prior to Hannah had cancelled just minutes before!  We are now the youngest case and therefore, FIRST!  It means we have to be at the hospital while the world is still sleeping, but I cannot tell you the relief we feel about not really having to deny her food--or at least for not a long period of time.  Her surgery is scheduled to begin around 7:30AM (Eastern) tomorrow morning.  We have to arrive to the hospital at the wee hour of 5:30AM.  We do not yet know how long to expect her procedure to take.

Some have asked what this specific procedure is for.  This will close the cleft in her lip and nothing more.  The cleft in her gum line and palate will remain.  Her nose will be shaped some as well.  In addition to this procedure we have decided to move forward with placing ear tubes and have requested those be placed tomorrow as well.  There will not be a graft involved in the closure of her lip.  Isn't it amazing how God created our bodies?!

When will we close the cleft in her palate?  I had originally thought we could do all of it at one time (and some surgeons out there still do it this way for adopted children).  We have agreed with our surgeon that it is best for Hannah and her recovery to do one thing at a time.  Too much at once would just be too painful and difficult for her during recovery.  Once Hannah's lip is fully healed (about 3-4 months from now) we will have a 2nd surgery to close the cleft in her palate.  We are told the palate surgery is far more difficult than the lip, so we are bracing and preparing for that.

What do we expect as far as recovery with this procedure?  We have no idea.  Having never experienced something this significant with Hannah before, we have no idea what her tolerance for pain is or just how resilient she is.  We venture to guess she is far more brave than either of us could be.

Will we have to spend the night?  Typically this procedure is done on an outpatient basis.  Since Hannah's medical history is a great big question mark for us, we have no clue how she will respond to anything, including all the anesthesia.  So--at this moment in time she is scheduled as an "observation" patient, meaning she could potentially spend the night.  If all is well and she is tolerating things nicely, we will get sent home early.  I have packed bags with the intent of spending the night there and really hope the mere act of doing that has guaranteed we won't be staying.

How can you pray?

• Pray for sweet closure for all of us as we say good-bye to this amazing smile.  We truly adore it.
• Pray our attachment with Hannah is not hindered at all by this procedure--in fact, we hear from many others that surgical procedures actually strengthen attachments.  This is our prayer.
• Pray for an anesthesia team that is open to learning the needs of an adopted patient and willing to work with us in making sure Hannah's needs for security are met.  Pray specifically she is able to be asleep when she is taken from me and also that we are able to be there the instant she awakes.  These are specific areas we are sensing a degree of resistance from the hospital on.
• Pray for swift and easy recovery for Hannah and patient endurance for Chris and I as we help her through these next few difficult days.
• Pray for minimal scarring.  This is her sweet face, y'all.  It will be her first impression her whole life.
• Pray for God to be ever present in and through Dr. L tomorrow morning.  For him to truly feel the presence of the Holy Spirit.  For Dr. L to get excellent rest tonight and to feel fantastic and energized tomorrow morning.
• Pray for the ENT placing the tubes.  For the tubes to be easily placed and for Hannah's hearing to dramatically improve.
• Pray for outstanding fully functional lips that can quickly learn all the things they need to do for successful speech development.
• Pray we get to come home tomorrow and do not have to stay the night.
• Peace.  Peace on all of us.

Have you told Hannah about what is going to happen tomorrow?  Does she understand?  Well....she's two.  We have done our best and she can fill in the part of the script.  I'll leave you with that.

Mommy: Tomorrow we are going to go to the.......
Hannah: Hospital!
Mommy: Yes!  And we will see the .....
Hannah: Doctor
Mommy: And when we get there Hannah is going to take a great....big.....
Hannah: Signs for sleep emphatically
Mommy: Yes!  A big sleep!  And when Hannah wakes up from that big sleep?  What will be different?
Hannah: Puckers and points to lips.
 Mommy: Yes.  Hannah's lips will be different.  And Mommy and Daddy will be there with you for every bit of it.

Til Tuesday......

Etching It In

We knew this day would come.  From the moment we laid our eyes on her and knew she was meant to be ours, we knew this day would come.  I have followed other families that have adopted, specifically families that have adopted children with the same "special need" as Hannah's.  I knew this day could potentially be emotionally difficult for us, but until you live it, you just can't know for sure.

Two days from now, Hannah will face the first of her surgeries needed to repair her cleft lip and palate.  Our household is a mixed bag of emotions.  In one breath I can say how truly thankful and grateful I am that we have the honor of providing this life changing surgery for Hannah, but then in the next, I can truthfully admit there is a certain level of grief and mourning happening in our home.  We have had to answer some tough questions in our house: "Mommy, why do we have fix Hannah's lip if that is how God made her?" and "I wish we didn't have to change Hannah.  She's so cute now!"  or "I'm gonna make sure I get lots of clefty kisses from her between now and Tuesday!"

Since the day we got home the most frequently asked question about Hannah has been, "When will you do the surgery?"  There was a sense of eager anticipation of getting the ball rolling on her recovery and correcting all that needed to be corrected.  In the world's eyes there may be a sense of eagerness and anticipation leading up to Tuesday.  But in our eyes, the totally biased eyes, of her parents?  We are grieving and longing for more time.  One more big, wide smile.  One more tongue out moment of concentration.  One more giggle about food dribbling out.  Another attempt to blow bubbles or the seeds off a dandelion.  One more kiss.

Please don't get me wrong.  We would never want Hannah to face her life with an unrepaired cleft.  Having her surgery will change her life dramatically.  She'll be able to speak clearly and have an outward appearance that is more socially accepted.  She will have the ability to hear more clearly and get the nutrition she needs.  We want her to have all those things and we know the surgery is essential for her to have a lifetime of health.  Knowing all this still doesn't remove the ache or the sting of loss.  You see, these lips, this face, it is precious to us.  It is the only way we've known Hannah and it is the Hannah we laid eyes on in September 2014 and fell in love with.  It is likely a large part of the weaving of her story and how she came to be our daughter.

On Tuesday, Hannah will enter the operating room our little Hannah.  She will emerge a time later, still our Hannah, but looking unlike anyone we've met before.  It will be as though we are meeting all over again.  I know the day will come that we will see her smile and the sparkle in her eye and it will just be...her.  Who she is.  We will adjust.  She will adjust.  And much of this will all be memory.

So that is what these last few days have been about in our home.  We have celebrated her amazingly beautiful little face.  We have savored it, taken it all in, and secured as many memories as we possibly can.  We cannot forget this little girl, with the wide, uncertain eyes who came to our family so angry and afraid, yet has blossomed into a child whose smile radiates joy.  I am stealing as many clefty kisses as she will give.  I am taking as many pictures and videos as my phone will hold. So she won't be forgotten.  Just as she is.  I hope that one day she will look back at all these pictures and see what we see.  Our daughter, full of life, and full of beauty.

I assure you, on Monday night there will be tears.  Tears of sadness of saying goodbye to something so sweet and precious to us.  Tuesday morning there will be tears of uncertainty, but there will be a sense of peace.  Peace that the journey is just beginning and that we are so humbly thankful we get to walk through it with her.  Precious daughter.  Loved.  Cherished.  No longer alone to fight these battles with no one by her side.

So we spend the next two days painting a canvas of memories with her.  Tuesday morning we will kiss her sweet lips one last time and say good-bye to this chapter of our time with her.  Soon we will kiss her new beautiful face.  Soon her pain will subside to offer what will be the first of her forever smiles.  And we will cry.  Tears of sadness, tears of mourning and loss, and tears of joy and thankfulness.

So until Tuesday we will be here, with our daughter, just etching it all in.

Beautifully His

Do you know, silly, precious little girl, that you are BEAUTIFUL?  Just as God created you.  His beautiful craftsmanship is on display in and through you.

"For you formed my inward parts...."

Your eyes.  Your hair.  The color of your skin.  Your beautiful face.  Every inch of you.  Designed by Him.  A reflection of who He is and His love for you.

"...you knitted me together in my mother's womb..."

Your cleft?  All part of His plan for you.  Not a mistake.  Not a freak of nature.  Not a "less than desirable" birth defect.  Not something to simply "overcome."  Not a cultural sign of a curse or of being unlucky.  No.

"...I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made..."

Your cleft is what makes you who you are.  A distinct part of your deep beauty and such a part of the weaving of your story, the creation of your journey to us.  We adore it.  We are blessed by it.  And we have been blessed to teach many others not to be afraid of it.

"...Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well..."

We rejoice in the way God formed you.  Your inward and outward parts.  We praise God for the child you are and we eagerly anticipate how He will use you in the days to come.  It is no surprise to us that it is ever so clear His plans for you are BIG.

"....My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, 

intricately woven in the depths of the earth..."

We walk proud.  Proud of you.  Proud of who you are and how far you have come.  Unashamed of all He created you to be.  We are thankful you are ours, for this time, but we know, ultimately, you are His.

"...Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, 

every one of them, the days that were formed for me, 
when as yet there was none of them..."

On April 28th, we will prayerfully place you into the capable hands of Dr. L and he will repair the first part of your cleft, your lip.  We are faithful God will be working in and through Dr. L, weaving and working to complete His plan for you and your appearance.  We will place you in his hands with a skip in our hearts and a catch in our throats, but we know we will see ultimately God's plan and glory displayed in the changes yet to come.

Let you never question it.  Not for a moment.  You are beautiful now.  You will become yet even more beautiful as He works in and through you.You are and always will be beautiful.  Beautifully His.

Ten Weeks and Ten Things

Ten weeks.  We have been home ten weeks.  I've written a lot about the hard in the last ten weeks.  It is good to write about the hard stuff; good for those yet to walk this road, and quite frankly, it is therapeutic and cathartic for me to write.  We aren't running a sprint.  The hard stuff is going to be ongoing.  This is a marathon and it will require ongoing cheers from the crowd.  Having the crowd behind you at the start of the race is sure nice, but man, as you approach the finish and your feet feel like lead and the legs are like rubber--that is when you need the cheerleaders to really kick in.  In this journey there is plenty of hard, but today?  Today I chose to be intentional about the good.  I decided to pray this morning for God to help me intentionally quickly see past the hard and forget about it, but to really take notice of the good and make mental markers of those good things, so I could come back to rely on them when the going got tough.  Know what?  God answered my prayer.  Yes, there was hard today and yes, I could spend this post talking about it, but mixed in with all of it, there was good stuff--good that I may have overlooked had God not so graciously honored my prayer.

So, here it is.  Home ten weeks today and ten good things.

1.) Today (and yesterday too!!) we were 100% cuss free!  No kidding!  Cuss free zone, y'all (we won't mention the lay on the floor kicking tantrums, 'cuz we were CUSS FREE!)!  This is a big day.  Oh, and I know she wanted to do it.  So bad.

2.) We started our day too early, but an early start lead us to a wonderful early morning 30 minute power nap to reset our outlook on things.  It was much needed and well received by all parties.

3.) Little Miss "I Hate Milk" actually drank milk.  I've started just serving it each day at breakfast and trying to get her to take a few sips before I switch it out to her water.  Most days it never makes it past her cleft lip lock down (Is that even possible?  Somehow it is.).  Today?  She drank way more than I expected and actually acted like she might be getting used to it.  Maybe?

4.) She played happily with legos throughout our entire school morning.  Hooray for a new table activity to grab her attention (and work that lazy little finger!).

5.) Two of her siblings sweetly sacrificed time riding their own bikes/scooters to push her around the garage on her tricycle (her legs just don't quite reach the pedals yet) so that I could finish fixing dinner.  She loved it and giggled the whole time.

6.)  Hannah got to spread dandelion seeds today with Grace.  She can't blow them off like Grace can, but she sure can smash them!

7.) She acted happy when Daddy came home from work tonight!  Praise!

8.) We got through two entire meals tantrum free today!

9.) She let me play "kiss monster" with her for a long time today.  Usually she doesn't tolerate games that involve prolonged physical contact or closeness for very long periods of time.  She will often quickly shake her head no and ask me to stop.  Today she giggled and giggled and let me carry on easily for a minute or two.

10.) We spoke to her surgeon today and officially scheduled her first surgery (more on that in another post).

....And I will throw in a bonus one...

11.)  She's just silly.  And cute. I adore her and I am so glad she is my daughter.

Ten things of good.  Ten weeks of pure privilege. 

Undeserved Grace

When we traveled to China, we did it with a great deal of financial freedom.  Hannah's adoption was financially feasible because of so many of you.  We cannot tell you the countless number of people who simply mailed us a check--some of you people we haven't spoken to in years or even met face to face.  Each day I would walk to the mailbox and just know that with the turn of my key in the door, I'd open it to be smacked with more of God's goodness.  It was really a lot of fun to see Him show up like that--each and every day.  It was also incredibly humbling, especially knowing there were many sacrifices made on the opposite end of all those checks.  I don't know if many of you know this, but we were able to adopt Hannah debt free.  What a glorious testimony to God's goodness to us.

We received three grants--one from each organization we applied to (Show Hope, Lifesong, and the Love Does Foundation).  With each application laboriously submitted, we really didn't expect to get anything.  Yet we did.  A lot.  Those grants pushed us over the edge and allowed us to have the cash we needed to wire to China, right at the final and most pivotal of moments.  People mailed us checks.  People handed us cash.  Anonymous friends sent envelopes loaded with cash.  Adoption is not cheap and we knew it was going to be a huge financial mountain to climb when we stepped out in faith and said "yes" to Hannah, but we knew that God would see us through.  And He did.  In so many countless ways.

When we got home, we expected this to stop.  The checks to stop coming.  The flood of His presence to stop pouring in through our mailbox.  But it hasn't.  Maybe it has even been a bit more humbling, since our adoption of Hannah is final.  Since coming home we've had yet more people step out in faith to support us.  People have sent gift cards for groceries, gift cards for meals out at local restaurants, gifts for the older children, gifts for Hannah, and even an entire box packed to the brim of things to take care of Mama to help me keep my energy and focus on fighting for this little person's heart each day.  An anonymous gift was given to our family that completely covered the cost of our insurance deductible (a wonderful blessing to have as we approach Hannah's first surgery).  We....are....floored.  And so humbled.  And in all of this there is the undercurrent from Chris and I.  Each time something happens we say, "But why us?  Why are people being so undeniably generous and kind to us?  We are sinners!  We fail!  We don't serve as much as we wish to!"  Yet, there it is.  These gifts.  These powerful, tangible pieces of evidence of God's goodness to us.

Truth is, we don't deserve any of it.  Not one iota.  None of us do.  We do not deserve the grace that has been extended to us.  What a gorgeous picture of the gospel all of this has been in our lives, in the lives of our children, and in the lives of those around us.  What I can tell you is that we have been forever changed by it.  Our eyes have been opened anew and the passion in our hearts for the orphan stoked even more.  We will give differently because of you.  We will pray differently because of you.  Our children will give and pray differently because of you.  From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for being a part of this gospel journey with us.  It has truly been remarkable.

Dancing Through Spring

Parenting any child is like a dance, but I see it the most in my parenting of our adopted child.  I'm the lead and I try to nudge her along.  Sometimes she falls gracefully into step with me and the dance is beautiful to watch.  Other times we get a little off beat or our right feet and left feet mixed up.  We're still headed in the same direction, but we're just a tad tangled up.  Then there are other times that we are flat out dragging one another in opposite directions because we both want to lead.  Adoption parenting is a lot like that.  Sometimes things are smooth sailing.  Other times, they just aren't so smooth, so pretty, so glorious to watch.  Sometimes we get where we need to go, but it was a tangled mess getting there.  Sometimes we forget steps we've known forever or get jumbled in something that ought to be easy.  Sometimes we try to conquer steps that are too advanced for our level.  Or we might glide gracefully through something we were certain would have derailed us entirely.  You just never know what sort of dance it will be each day.  Graceful and slow?  Jumpy like a quickstep?  Easy and natural like a waltz?  We are moving forward....and...a little backward, too.

We've done a lot of moving forward lately.  We've also done a good bit of moving backward.  Missteps we thought were long behind us resurface.  Insecurities come and go.  Moving forward doesn't mean all those little things of the past are cured and gone.  They may be forgotten or pushed to the side in the moment, but they are certainly not gone.

What does moving backward look like in our home?  In our home right now it looks like a little girl who has easily gone at least two weeks without requiring the security of a snack cup in sight at all hours who suddenly needs it again--ferociously.  It looks like a big sister who is fumbling with where she fits in her Mama's heart and attention these days, so she does and says things that are out of character.  It looks like a big brother who can't seem to fully trust Mama and Daddy to do an adequate job of parenting, so he steps in and tries to parent despite knowing he shouldn't.  It looks like a little girl who continues to have night terrors during her naps.  It looks like massive meltdowns over food that had long dissipated.  It looks like a little boy who suddenly requires full assistance for all forms of self-care that haven't been needed for months.  Or little people who won't nap, but need to nap.  It might look like a frazzled mom whose temper is short and ability to focus limited.  It might be a Dad who doesn't know who to handle first--the disobedient child or the frustrated and at wits end Mom.  Or a Dad who has to fight for his daughter's heart (and even mere acceptance) on a daily basis.

So yes, we are moving backward some.  Backward is hard.  Some of that stuff was hard to deal with when we were there the first time and while it hasn't gotten any harder than it once was, it feels harder.  Why?  Because you've seen what moving forward looks like.  It looks good.  Very good.  You've basked in the gorgeousness of moving forward, so going backward has a bit of a sting--reopening wounds that were partially healed.  Eventually the sting fades, just like the burn of alcohol on a wound, but instead of slapping a band-aid on it this time, you decide to dig a little deeper.  What is causing this wound to reopen and resurface?  How can we help it heal?  For good.  So you get down to work at studying the dance and really try hard to master these early steps so that when things get harder you don't have to go back and relearn all the basics.  You get the momentum going again and things start moving forward.

What does moving forward look like?  It looks like a little girl who is secure enough in her home to simply be tucked in--no rocking or patting or bouncing needed--just simply tucked and loved.  It looks like parents swallowing the lump in their throats and contacting the surgeon with a list of possible dates for the surgical repair process to begin.  It looks like daily renewal and grace given to each member of this home.  It looks like little fingers mastering the pincer grasp for the first time in months.  It sounds like giggles and laughter.  It includes shoulder rides with Daddy and ball games in the backyard.  It's catching bubbles and making sure each one of them pops.  It is a meal without a tantrum, a restrained fist that wants so desperately to hit, or a mouth speaking love that would rather hurl insults.  Moving forward feels good.

In all this moving forward and backward I am reminded, day in and day out, that this is not always going to be this way.  Forward movement will happen with more frequency.  Backward movement will slow.  It is simply a season.  It can be easy, at times, to feel stuck in this season--like it is the bleakest of winters.  I pray I don't get stuck there often or at all because I would be failing to see what it truly is.  It is the prettiest of springs, this season we are in.  It includes the most magnificent of blooms.  The prettiest butterflies.  The smells are rich and deep and fragrant.  Seasons come and go and seasons change.  Right now, I am content to stay right here in this season of forward and backward (and some inside out and upside down).  Spring really is the prettiest season, in my opinion, and I am glad to watch in this front row seat of mine all the glorious things God is ready to unfurl.  Spring is in full bloom in our home.  Rich, full, deep, glorious bloom.  And I'm so glad I get to be part of it.  We are going to dance the prettiest dance we know right through the tulips and daffodils, the bumblebees and ants, the cherry blossoms and pollen.  We are going to dance and blossom and bloom.  Together.

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted;

....

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance......"

Ecclesiastes 3:1-4