I lost 12 pounds

Those first few weeks after returning home from China were a blur of tantrums, sleepless nights and jet lag. The physical and emotional toll of the trip really caught up with me. After two days Keith went back to working 12 hours a day 6 days a week. After two weeks the older children went back to school. It was just me and Autumn. All. Day. Long.

Before bringing her home I thought going back to having a 2 year old at home would be a breeze. I did it before, I could do it again, right? WRONG. I sunk into a DEEP depression. What I didn't know before is that postpartum depression happens post adoption too. This leads me to think that it's a reaction to environmental change, not a reaction to hormonal changes like everyone says. 

This is very hard for me to share because a part of me is embarrassed that this was so difficult. The logical part of me says that it's silly to feel embarrassed. It wasn't as though I chose to become depressed, it just sort of.......happened.  It happened in the same way that a person gets hit by a train; fast, hard and without warning. I can remember sitting and staring at a plate of eggs and not being able to physically move myself to eat them. That was the moment. I felt like myself before that moment. That was two days after we got home.

Mentally, I had prepared myself for a really rough time in China. The trip was definitely not easy but, for some reason, I had absolutely no problem handling it. I was never overly emotional and adapted well to sudden changes in plans and long hours in the hotel room with nothing to do. It was all a-okay, no problemo! That's because I knew it was temporary. I thought I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. What I actually found at the end of the tunnel was darkness.

One day after arriving back in the USA

It wasn't all doom and gloom. We got along well as a new family of five. We went to the playground a lot and Autumn got along really great with her new brother and sister. They spent hours on the trampoline together and laughed a lot.  

The problem was me.  All me. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep and I lived with a huge rock in my stomach all the time. I lost 12 pounds. My feelings of anxiety consumed everything and I could hardly function and could feel nothing else. It was immensely perplexing because I couldn't pinpoint a cause and I had never felt quite like that ever before. 

So overwhelmed with these emotions, I couldn't bond with my new child. In fact, I started to blame her (or my decision to adopt her) for the way I felt. Then I started feeling guilty for blaming her. Then I blamed Keith for letting me go through with adoption. Then I felt guilty for thinking that too. I had a laundry list of negative thoughts, each one followed by guilt. It was a vicious cycle that I couldn't escape. Anxiety. Guilt. Depression. Anxiety. Guilt. Depression. What was happening to me?!

It got to the point where I was having thoughts of hurting myself. I went to the doctor, I got medication for the anxiety but it made me more depressed. I stopped taking the medication. Then, I went to therapy and it changed my life (more on that in a future post.)

Thanks to a lot of hard work, prayer and support from many friends and family members I'm happy to say that I have found my way out of the darkness. This experience has fundamentally changed who I am as a person. I feel different and I view the world differently. I'm not sure if it's a good change or not. Time will tell.

Golden Handcuffs

We had to hire a financial planner. I never thought I'd see the day. Keith works a 100% commission job so that can make planning a little bit tricky. You never really know what's coming from month to month. Keith works hard and so, generally, he does pretty well. He has done so well that I got to stop working and go back being a stay at home mom.

For two years I spent a lot of time resenting Keith's job. I felt they asked too much of him, too many hours, too much pressure to perform, too many Saturdays. Despite the fact that, if it were not for this job, we wouldn't have our beautiful house, I would have to work, and we would still be a family of four.

Our financial planner told us that a lot of people in sales commission jobs get caught in a trap they call the "golden handcuffs." In other words, they have a good year and spend a whole bunch of money on stuff they don't need and then they have to work even longer hours to maintain their standard of living. He told us that, if we plan carefully, we can have an exit plan. I really liked the sound of that.

So we sat down and tried to agree on an exit plan, or at least a timeline for an exit plan. It soon became clear that my husband has no desire to change his career path. He is extremely happy and satisfied with his work.

Great. (sarcastic)

But then I thought again. Great! (not sarcastic) How many people can say that they LOVE what they do? How many people can make a good living doing what they love? It seems like a particularly rare gift. Our exit plan will, most likely, be retirement. I can handle that, I think..... as long as it's on a beach.

It's not always easy when I see other families taking day trips to the zoo or other fun places on Saturday when I am on my own with 3 (soon to be 4) kids. It's not easy putting the kids to bed by myself or having to hire a babysitter so I can take my son to basketball practice without two little girls whining that they are bored. The fact of the matter is that it's not hard to find things to complain about no matter your circumstances.

I'll admit, I've been in a funk with this lately. My strategy is to count my blessings.  It usually makes me feel better. Usually.

I am grateful that we have been able to avoid the golden handcuffs trap so far. But in our case, no handcuffs are required. Keith will keep working hard and giving his all to his job until he decides it's too demanding and he wants more time with the family. We will be waiting anxiously for that day.

We sat in those seats just yesterday

Recently, our family was invited to an information session at the adoption agency who helped us adopt our little girl. We were there to tell all about our journey and to answer questions.

In March of 2014 we were those people. A family came and spoke to the group and told of how they adopted their little boy from Ethiopia. He was so cute. I remember feeling awe and wonderment at this family formed out of tragedy. They had taken their own tragedy of infertility and their son's tragedy of not being with his first parents and turned it into something positive. I desperately wanted what they had.

A few weeks ago we WERE that family. I was super nervous. What would they think of us? Would they look at our family and wish they had what we have? That's what I was wishing when I was them. Would they think we were selfish for adopting a child when we already had two birth children? Would they ask hard questions? Or worse, no questions at all.

Would our three children behave themselves? They were fighting in the car on the way there and my husband and I joked that the people would see us and think, "never mind, we don't want kids after all."

I shared things with this group of strangers that I don't often share. We talked about our original plans to have children and how we had wanted six. We talked about secondary infertility and about what led us to adopt from China. I talked about post-adoption depression (just as real as post-partem depression, my friends.)

I talked about God and the role of faith on our journey. I said this to a room full of strangers. That was scary.

I wanted to tell them that we sat in those seats just yesterday. My favorite question was, "would you do it again?" I was so happy to say, "yes, we are already in the process!"

I would do it a hundred more times if I could.

I hope they invite us back to speak again.

Sometimes I feel nothing

I was raised in the Mormon church and have remained a faithful member into adulthood. One of my favorite aspects of my faith is the concept of personal revelation. We are encouraged to pray and talk to God as though he were sitting in the room with us. We have the opportunity to develop a personal relationship with God. It's kind of amazing if you really think about it.

Personal revelation can come in many forms. For me, I receive feelings of peace when I know I'm doing what's right. Sometimes I pray and the answer is no and I feel anxious or confused. Sometimes I feel nothing. Those are probably the most difficult times, when He doesn't answer.

Why didn't I get an answer? 

Heavenly Father wants us to choose for ourselves, that's why we have agency. If we go to Him with every decision He will sometimes withhold guidance. Is it because the decision we make isn't important enough for Him to intercede? I think not.

For example, in my single days I attended a scripture study class and we discussed this very topic at great length. The teacher was talking about marriage and choosing a spouse. He said that if you are dating someone and you think you might want to marry them and you pray, the Lord is not going to tell you yes. Is this because who you marry is not important? No. (Who you marry is a very important decision and if you were about to make a HUGE mistake I think God would probably let you know.) But, He won't necessarily tell you yes for a very good reason.

Sometimes in life there are too many unknowns for Heavenly Father to micromanage our every decision. The biggest variable is our own agency. If He tells us to do something and we screw it up then we are naturally going to blame God when it's really our own fault.

When Keith took his current job it set us on a very good path that led to a great community and allowed us to adopt not one but two kids from China. After we had dinner with the people who wanted to hire Keith I had a pit in my stomach for months. I didn't want things to change but I knew I had to support my husband and that it was the right thing to do. Did Heavenly Father make the decision for me? No. I had to choose for myself to do what I knew was right.

There have been periods of time since moving where I have felt angry and bitter and it's been hard on our family. If Heavenly Father had told us to move and take this job I could have very easily blamed Him for my unhappiness when the blame really fell on me. I get to decide to make the best of it. I get to choose to be happy and find the good. Instead of blaming God, I turn to Him for support and He's there. He's always there.

Yay!

Special Needs

I've grown to dislike the term, "special needs." It implies that there is something terribly wrong with you.

Recently, I was speaking with the director of international adoption at a local agency. She had just returned from a trip to China and South Korea. She expressed discouragement over the children in the orphanages in China. She said that the children's needs were much more severe than they have ever seen before.

It bugged me a little. Was she discouraged because knew they'd be harder to place? Was she discouraged because there are less "healthy" children available now? I hope it's the former, because less children being available for adoption is a GOOD thing!

She got me thinking.

When we came home from China I was racked with guilt for taking our daughter away from everything she knew. I wished with all my heart that she could be with the parents who had created her. I wished that I knew something, ANYTHING about why they abandoned her.

Last year China changed their law prohibiting citizens from having more than one child to allow them to have two children. (Still a human rights violation but at least slightly less of one.) Is it possible that if that law had been changed in 2012 our daughter could have stayed with her first family? I guess I'll never really know.

But, maybe, just maybe the explanation for less minor special needs children in orphanages is the change in the law. Maybe their families are deciding to take a chance on them. Maybe it's a sign of social change. I hope that is the case because that would be wonderful.

Autumn is not handicapped. That is the last time you will ever see me use her name and that word in the same sentence. She is not disabled, she is not defective. She is PERFECT and healthy and wonderful and she is as much my daughter now as if I had given birth to her. She is not lucky that we adopted her. A child left on a street corner is not lucky.

We are lucky to have been given the chance to have her in our family.

Everyone has something that is different about them. Everyone has special needs. Sometimes those differences are obvious. Most of the time they are invisible. Don't be afraid to take a chance and help someone.

Everyone has special needs. Every. Single. Person.

Thought Bubbles

Our little one at the beach.

Today I was at the mall with my ADORABLE three year old daughter. (Yes, I'm biased, but I am allowed to be because I'm her mother.)

A sweet old lady asks, "did you adopt her?" Sigh. Here we go.

There are times that I don't mind all the questions, I've grown accustomed. But, in this moment, I just want to sit there and have a quiet moment with my sweet little girl as we enjoy our cup of pretzel bites.

"Yes," I say and force a smile.

"From where?"        "China."

Her follow up questions get way too personal (as they often do) but I manage by giving general information about Chinese adoption and not going into anything specific about our daughter. The nice woman takes her leave. I sigh and think that could have been worse.

And then I look up.

I see a young mom with a stroller openly staring with wide eyes and an open mouth at me and my absolutely AMAZING and charming daughter. I make eye contact and she instantly looks away. I mean, her head turns so fast I'm surprised she doesn't get whiplash.

I fight back the tears.

When our family is in public, people stare. We are not all the same color. It confuses people. Our three year old also has an obvious physical difference due to a birth defect. I would have stared at her too; before she was mine. We usually handle the stares by making eye contact and smiling. It works great and eases the tension we and the gawker are feeling. This lady doesn't even give us a chance to smile. I can't tell if she's embarrassed to have been caught staring or if she's simply disgusted with what she was seeing. Maybe a little of both.

I decide that we need another strategy when plan A fails. I think of my 9 year old son and have an idea.

When we say family prayers he sometimes has a hard time focusing on the words so he started creating pictures in his mind. After we pray he will sometimes describe the pictures he drew in his mind. For example, when we pray for the homeless, "I saw a homeless man walking into a house with a thought bubble that said he was happy." Stuff like that.

It got me thinking. What if we imagine thought bubbles floating above people's heads when they stare? The idea made me giggle.  Here are some ideas for our thought bubbles:

"Wow, that little girl is really amazing."

"Look at that beautiful smile."

"How does she do that with no thumbs?"

"I wonder how hard it is to adopt from another country."

(And then I realized that "thought bubbles" is a FANTASTIC blog title.)

What thought bubbles would you imagine?