What to say?

Sometimes during the wait for our adopted children, we parents hit this white noise phase. Nothing new to anyone outside your particular wait. So there will be this lull in blogging and this avoidance in spoken conversation about the whole thing. It happens because each day is a new misery or basket of hope and yet it sounds exactly the same as yesterday's misery or basket of hope and you don't want to be repetitive. Plus, you kind of feel like no one but other adoptive parents can really get what you are saying anyway and most of the time they have said it better and funnier than you.
I have found that I am in one of those phases now. But what's up? I mean the kids here so isn't everything just peachy keen?
Well, the answer to that question is yes and no.
I have this semi-desire to talk about all of the peachy stuff. Then I think, "But that's not the whole picture"
I have this semi-desire to talk about the not so peachy stuff. Then I think, "Why? So it will seem like your dream coming true is just.....tepid?" Or I read some awesomely written blog post by another adoptive Mama and I think "oh hell why do I even bother?"

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that the word "succinct" sort of gives me a rash. It is nearly impossible for me to give polite, simply worded updates. Nope. Can not do it. I try but it all just gets jumbled up and I stand there blinking and staring and looking kind of silly. Not about my kids and the journey to them and the journeys that we are on with them, right now, every moment, every day.

Yes, It's good,we are over the moon with Liam. I mean, have you seen that kid? He's about as cute and cuddly and social as they come.

No, it's not good. At least it's not great. Yet. Let me say that one again ....YET.   It will get there. We will get there. But right now it's just grinding, this work of getting to know him, of settling into this life together. I am sure he looks at us sometimes and he wonders about us and these things we do. 


With Liam you can go entire days and sort of forget that he is hurting. Everything I learned with Ev is right out of the window and I have to let all of that go. I have to see him in a new light. I know that every parent with more than one child has to do this. It's just with adopted kids, you have to be more fierce, more on top, more willing to surrender yourself. MORE MORE MORE. I am not trying to understate the relationship that bio families have but let's face it, most families out there are not dealing with kids that were deeply wounded, abandoned, hungry, lonely and frightened for most, if not all, of their lives. 


And that's how our days go. One step forward, two steps back. Lots of self doubt on the parental front.
Sound like fun?
Well, it is and it ain't.
And that's adoption.
And it also happens to be where we are.
(Deep breath, as whining will commence in 3,2,1....)
Also, we met with the Surgical Team. No surprises, good or bad. I had hoped for, not the best because I have eyes in my head and can see his cleft, but you know, I hoped for fair to middlin'. What we got was shit storm. "Very WIDE Cleft" said the doctor, "bone grafts" said Stooge Number One. Tubes in the ears. Dental surgery murmured Stooge Number Two. I loved the phrase "intensive speech therapy".  And the casual hand toss with the mention of lip revision(S) and rhinoplasty just about did me in. How dare they be so casual about changing that wonderful little face? I sat there with my son on my lap as all of those words fell about us like so much nonsense and my heart broke. Not for me silly, for him. For the pain, for the struggles, I don't know for all of it. And all of it starting before he has it figured out that we LOVE him and we are HERE. I struggled with it because I want the world to see what we see when we look at him, Liam Wayne Ao Zhuang. Just a little boy who will steal your heart if you are not careful.

And no. None of this is news. We did our research. It's just news FOR HIM. There is a checklist of possible procedures that a cleft affected child might possibly need, it all depends on the severity of the cleft and other technical things. Let's just say that Liam's is all checked up. And really who wants that for their child?
And no. I would not rather not do it. I want to help this boy talk and be heard. I want to see him stand up and walk proudly into a bright future.
And yes. I will get over the boo hoo fest about this issue. Any. Freaking. Day. Now.

In summary, we are ok. Sometimes we are good. Sometimes we see shining glimpses of the new us. Sometimes I want to put earplugs in and gorge on chocolate and go comatose for awhile. Sometimes I want to pick up both kids and squeeze them tight and shout to the Heavens , " I love these kids!!!"- oh wait, I actually do that. Evelyn loves it by the way (that was sarcasm). And sometimes I wish that a simple, fervent little prayer would heal my son's mouth- instantly and without pain.
The most telling thing of all is, I think, that sometimes, I am gripped with nearly crippling anxiety at the thought of a life without them in it. Not them being here and then gone, but of never having taken the steps that led me to them.