Oh, Happy Adoption Day!

There's a book and a song called Happy Adoption Day, and I always think of it on our re-adoption days. We don't celebrate those days as a family, but I usually remember them around the right date, and it makes me think of the song. Well, yesterday was Tate's (re)adoption day. Of course I couldn't find our camera, but Jason's dad joined us and I did have my phone, so here we are at the end of the ceremony: Tate was a good sport. He high-fived Judge Gallagher. He drum-rolled on the table at the appropriate times. It was pretty amusing. During the picture, he kept turning to the judge and banging on his robe. (Thankfully the judge was very good-natured about it!) And the judge was super kind to Casey and Marcie-- confirming with each of them that they were prepared to help take care of their new brother. I think it was neat for them to experience what they had gone through (but have no memory of), too. There were lots of families there for adoptions-- and we were by far one of the very smallest groups. Many families had lots and lots of extended family. One family there was adopting a step-child adoption for 19-year-old-- and they were all so happy and excited. It reminded me that you're never too old to find a family to call your own. . . After the ceremony, we went to eat (I had not eaten yet). Here we are at Island's celebrating Tate's official California adoption:

After we ate, I went on to do some work while Casey (and the others) went to lacrosse practice. Then, because we'd eaten such an early "dinner," we decided to treat ourselves to Cold Stone for ice cream dinner around 6:30 or 7:00pm.

The afternoon was quite a treat for the whole family.

Surgery Expenses

When we were contemplating a special needs adoption, one thing we thought about was the cost of addressing the special needs. In this case, cleft lip and cleft palate. Here in California, a month before we were matched with Tate, our state legislature passed a law that requires medical insurance to cover the expenses associated with treating cleft lip and cleft palate. It was one of the things that made me feel a little better about taking the leap--

As it turns out, in California there is also a program that covers the expenses not already covered by your private insurance- if your child is born with a congenital condition like cleft palate and has the condition when you adopt him. So long as you use a state-approved provider. For us, that was Children's Hospital, which is also our in-network provider for our private insurance.

Now, don't get me wrong, we pay a lot for private insurance. We don't have a fancy schmancy policy or anything super high end. We just have regular insurance, with set co-pays and deductibles. But we still pay what seems to me like a lot in premiums each month. I pay more than double what we were paying when I was a teacher-- and more than double what we have paid for any insurance from any private employer for whom Jason has worked. I don't mean this as a complaint-- it is what it is.

Honestly, I have not paid much attention to the health care debate because to date, we have been lucky enough to have decent health insurance. But when I got our hospital bills for Tate's surgery, I must admit I was pretty shocked. I mean, I expected the bills to be what they were (in the neighborhood of $25,000 if you include both surgeons, the medications, the recovery room, the overnight hospital stay, the anesthesiologist, etc., etc., etc.). I put this out there so that others who may be searching for information about the cost of cleft palate surgery can find out what it really costs. And, mind you, we only stayed one night in the hospital, and Tate's surgery lasted-- including both the ENT and the plastic surgeon, only about an hour and a half.

What surprised me was the price negotiated by our insurance. For some of the items, our insurance company had pre-negotiated with the hospital a 98% discount. That's a huge discount. Of course, the insurance company still pays most of the bill after our deductible/co-pay. But this got me to thinking about the people who are not insured. I mean, the reason they are uninsured is because the insurance premiums are too high. So how is it that they are also stuck with a bill 98% higher than the bill I would have to pay? That somehow seems backwards to me. I mean, I get that there are volume discounts and such. And I admit that I have no idea how the insurance companies negotiate the payments with the providers. No idea at all. But it seems odd to me that someone who can afford health insurance pays, oh let's say $3,000 (I don't have the bill in front of me, so I don't remember the actual price tag) for a surgery and someone who cannot afford the premiums, for the same surgery, might be asked to pay $25,000.

Does anyone else think this is backwards?

Of course, I'm grateful for the "discount," and I feel so, so fortunate that the price of a surgery to correct such a correctable special need did not keep us from finding our way to Tate-- he really is perfect for us. This talk of money might seem crude-- but it's not something to ignore when making such a big and important decision. And yet I feel so lucky that this particular expense is not something that we have had to worry about . . .

Second Familyversary

I was so busy feeling sorry for myself and overwhelmed by work, that I didn't even realize our Familyversary had come and gone and I hadn't mentioned it on the blog! As I explained last year, we don't really make a big deal of "Gotcha Day" (which is the anniversary of when we became a family, hence familyversary). There are so many days to celebrate-- like adoption day or birthday, that I just can't track one more. And truth be told, I didn't acknowledge Marcie's official adoption day this summer, either. Am I a great mom, or what?

I'd like to think it's because our kids are so well integrated into our family that we don't need to acknowledge when they were officially added. But that would be a pretty uppity and not entirely honest belief. Not that I think our kids need to be better integrated-- I mean, I've never had any other kind of family (except when I was a kid), but I just am not always super conscious of how our kids came to be our kids. I mean, it's always there at the back of my head, but the details of it just aren't always at the forefront of my mind.

Plus, in my defense, this was a pretty emotional week for me. And I know I wasn't alone. If you wander over to South Cackalackin', you'll see she was recently similarly struggling.

But despite my lack of recognition of the big day, we did do something special. We went to Corvette Diner, a local 50s joint, where Casey bravely joined a huge circle of complete strangers by himself and danced the Chicken while Marcie and I watched. It also marked the first time Marcie chewed gum without swallowing it. I can't believe she can do that at only 2 1/2 years old. Or maybe my expectations are too low. Who knows. Of course, we weren't at Corvette's to celebrate our Familyversary any more than we do any other time we're out enjoying one another's company. But it was fun all the same.

So to those of you who were more on top of things than I, Happy Familyversary. I can hardly believe it's already been two years since we traveled to China to find our Marcie. I am obviously one of the luckiest people in the world. . .

Surprise Package

One thing about parenting a child who happens to be adopted is that holidays take on a slightly different significance. I'm sure this is not true for everyone. Probably just me, in fact. And that's because for me holidays are all about family. Well, food, too. Food and family. But my favorite thing about the holidays is that we all take the time to really spend it together. Doing stuff.

And so especially around the holidays, I think about the people who we don't get to share our time with. And that's not specific to adoption. I only see my parents at Christmas time about every three years. And the last time I saw them on Thanksgiving was my freshman year of college, I think-- over ten years ago. And I don't just think about them on the holiday but also during the days and weeks leading up to the day.

I'm very conscious of this with Casey, and less so with Marcie. I think this is because I know Casey's birth family. They aren't just an elusive concept; they're real people with real names. And I talk to them. Send them a Christmas card. They're family. But I never feel badly that they are missing out on spending Christmas with Casey. It could be because I know they don't celebrate Christmas, as it's not part of their religious beliefs. Or maybe I just never really thought about it at all.

But this year, I have. I've been thinking about the trip they're taking this week. I've been thinking about the small presents we've been collecting since we saw them in August. Gifts we'll get around to mailing at some point. And I've been thinking about their role in Casey's life-- how lucky we are to have them as family.

And today Casey's birth family unwittingly participated in our family time. You see, they mailed a surprise package, which the kids and I opened up yesterday morning. It was filled with those popcorn curls, and we had to dig deep in, which the kids loved. Inside was an outfit for each child, the book Guess How Much I Love You (doesn't that speak volumes about how they feel about our kids?), and a toy for each child (Cars toys for Casey and a Lily for Marcie). They also mailed us a Dora blanket and a Dora blow up sleeping bag, which they'd purchased for Marcie to use during our stay with them last summer.

So tonight after dinner, the kids cozied into their pajamas early, we blew up their sleeping bags, and they curled up inside for a night in at the movies. They watched Ratatouille for the umpteenth time before heading off to bed (they bathed earlier in the day, which is a story for another post). Not before I caught a shot of them, of course.

Today I've been thinking about Marcie's birth family, too. I've been thinking about how much better my holiday season is with Marcie here to help celebrate. That's not any different than how I feel any time of year; it just feels magnified for me around the holidays. I loved Christmas when I was a mom to one. But watching them interact, feeling Casey's anticipation of Santa's arrival, it's so much more fun as a mom of two.

Bed Time Rituals

When Casey was first born, I made up a song for him and I sang it over and and over again. It's hard to get a sense of it without hearing the tune-- also one I think I made up-- but here are the lyrics:

I love Casey, yes I do,
I love Casey, Casey boo,
Casey, Casey, Casey is my son.

I love Casey,
I love Casey,
I love Casey,
Oh I love Casey and he loves me.

When Marcie was born, I modified the words-- because obviously she's not my son. Her version goes like this:

I love Marcie, yes I do
Marcie, Marcie, I love you
Marcie, Marcie, Marcie I love you, I do.

I love Marcie,
I love Marcie,
I love Marcie,
Oh I love Marcie and she loves me.

I stopped singing Casey this song when he was around 2. I didn't just sing it to him at night-- I'd sing it any time I was rocking him or he was upset. Same with Marcie. And when Casey was 9 months old, I started law school, which I didn't finish until Marcie was 18 months old-- so I wasn't the one putting the kids to bed. But I still have my bed time routines. Mainly with Casey. For instance, when I go in to Casey's room to kiss him good night, this is what I say every night-- even if I am away and I call him at bed time:

Casey, I love you when you're happy
and I love you when you're sad.
I love you when you're silly,
and I love you when you're mad.
And I even love you when you're being bad.
I love you always, always, always and forever.

After about a week, he started filling in the adjectives or making a face to demonstrate the corresponding emotion. And then he began insisting he push back the hair on my forehead so he could kiss me on the forehead. Then he pulls back his own hair so I can kiss him on the forehead. And then we say good-night and I walk out the door, turning off the light as I leave. My ritual with Marcie is similar, except that I just do the very last line. And she giggles with giddiness when I say it.

Well, this afternoon when I was putting down the kids for their naps after a pretty wonderful morning taking Casey to see Bee Movie, to go grocery shopping, and to then stop at Starbucks (at his request), I leaned over to kiss him goodnight. I don't usually go through the whole ritual for nap time. But today he said he wanted me to tell him, so I started. And he stopped me. "Not that one, Mommy," he explained. "I love you always, forever, baby boo, baby bee." He half-said and half-babbled at me.

"The song?" I asked.

And he nodded yes. Do you know the one he was talking about?

When Casey was very, very young--before we got our referral for Marcie-- I used to read him a book before bed called Love You Forever. It's the story of a mother who rocks her son to sleep each night, singing him a song with the words:

I love you for always
I love you forever
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be.

I used to sing those lines of the book to Casey (to the tune of "On Top of Old Smokey" or "On Top of Spaghetti"-- which is the same tune, of course). At the end of the story, the boy-- then a man with children of his own-- wraps his mother in his arms, rocks her and sings the song (but instead of "baby" says "mother"). It's a beautiful story, and I used to choke up every time I read it to him. It just speaks to be about the unconditionality of a parents' love. And it's interesting to me that Casey connected that song with my little night time rhyme-- because they're both about the unconditionality of my love for him. It's particularly surprising he remembered the song because I know I stopped singing it when he was 3 or so, right around the time we refused to refer to him as a baby anymore, because we wanted our big boy to be toilet trained.

Anyway, today at nap time, I wrapped up Casey in my arms, and I rocked him while I sang the words. And it struck me how much we teach our kids without even necessarily trying-- or knowing that we're doing so. And this notion of unconditional love, it's so very, very important to me that my kids understand the depth and breadth of my love for them-- I don't know if it's something all parents worry about or if my concern about expressing it is because my kids are adopted. It's just really, really important to me that they know how wanted and loved they have been and will be-- always, always, always and forever.

Keeping Things In Perspective

In many ways, the various factions of my life are separate. Like being an adoptive parent. While parenting is integral in every aspect of my life, the fact that we've built our family through adoption is not. The kids are with us now; that I didn't carry them in my uterus doesn't really matter much from one day to the next. But being an adoptive parent is very much a part of who I am. In a way, it's like being part of a club-- you don't really understand what it's like until you've lived it. And I feel connected to other adoptive parents in a way I don't think I otherwise would. But that connection isn't something I think about every moment of every day. So it's odd, in a sense, that being an adoptive parent is helping put the pending bar results in perspective for me.

Yes, today is the magic day the California State Bar results are released electronically to test-takers. The public can't access the information until Sunday or Monday (I'm not sure which). And I suppose it's possible that mis-information could be available online, which is why the Bar cautions all applicants not to rely on their online results and to wait for the mailed results instead. Whatever. No one believes they need to wait. And so, at around 6:00pm tonight I, along with the other nine thousand or so examinees will try to log in at exactly the same time to retrieve our results. I haven't been thinking much about it until the last 48 hours. And I think I'm more nervous now than I felt when I was actually taking the test. It's obviously out of my hands. The results have been compiled. But the not knowing is eating up my stomach. Literally. I slept only a couple hours last night, and I am operating on pure adrenaline.

So what if I don't pass the California bar? I mean, it's not like some giant hook will swoop in to the office and pull me out of my desk. The firm I'm at gives us a second chance-- we can re-take the exam in February. And I have my teaching career as an alternative, as well. I will be embarrassed by my failure. And I will beat myself up. And I will wonder, probably even after my scores arrive in the mail (because you only get your scores if you didn't pass the test), why me? The scariest thing about the potential of failing the bar exam is that I just don't know what more I could have done. I really did give it my best shot. And I know that the failure will eat away at whatever self-confidence I have.

That said, it's a test for crying out loud. Sure, only 78% of the first-time test-takers from my law school passed last July. And the statewide first-time taker pass rate was only 67%. But it's a test nonetheless. We're not talking life and death here. And in the big picture of life, this will-- long from now-- (hopefully) just be one small blip.

Helping me put all this in perspective is the touching story of Hannah, a child who will be returning home from China shortly. Hannah's parents met her for the first time some time in the past few weeks, after traveling to China from Lansing, Michigan. Part way through their trip, after China had finalized the adoption, Hannah's dad, who is diabetic, suffered complications from diabetes and passed away. I can only imagine the shock and grief of meeting my child for the first time, then losing my spouse almost in that same breath. But that's exactly what happened to Hannah's mom, Sandi. And then it go worse. Because the U.S. Consulate initially refused to issue Sandi a visa to return to the United States with Hannah, explaining that her family circumstances had changed and she would need to re-do the paperwork. Yup. Bureaucracy at its finest. Our government was essentially telling Sandi to leave China alone-- no husband, no child.

It didn't end that way, thankfully. Sandi's congressperson was contacted (by over a thousand people who heard about their story through adoption boards and word of mouth), and he sprang into action. It took some string-pulling and wrangling and the involvement of some very important higher-ups, but it looks like Sandi will be able to return home to Michigan with her daughter. Still a family of two instead of three. But a family all the same.

And this got me to thinking about the bar results. It may feel like everything in the world to me in this moment of time. But it's not. I can imagine my world without me being a lawyer. I've been doing it all my adult life. There are so many other, more important parts of my life that define me-- like my family and my friends. In the end, it won't matter how many hours I billed. Or if I passed the bar exam on the first try. Or even if I end up practicing law at all. At the end of my life, what will matter is the relationships I have, the friendships I share, the love of my family.

Now, if I can just keep that in perspective for the next eight hours (and maybe even beyond), I'll be in good shape . . .

Marcie's Birthday

Today is Marcie's birthday. And mine. Because we share the same birth date. A couple people this year have asked me if we got to pick Marcie's birthday. It seemed like such a strange question the first time someone asked it-- as if we could just rewrite a child's age on our own whim. But it's not a dumb question by any stretch. For those of you wondering, the answer is no. We didn't pick November 15th to be Marcie's birthday. China did. When they find a child, they estimate the child's birth date based on her physical appearance and condition. Marcie was estimated to be about a week old when she was found. I doubt she was incredibly large for her age when she was so young, and they do have physical evidence of age based on things like the umbilical cord. Anyway, she has a Chinese birth certificate, translated into English. And that identifies her birthday as November 15th. It's just luck that it coincides with my birthday.

I started a post earlier highlighting the day's events, but I didn't finish it. I will post it, complete with pictures, later. But a "show and tell" somehow seemed like an empty tribute to Marcie. This is the adoptive parent in me thinking. It seems relatively common that adoptive parents contemplate their children's birth parents each year on their children's birthdays. And that makes sense. Though I doubt that many parents who parent their biological children stop each and every year to consider and remember the labor and delivery experience. Maybe I'm wrong. And maybe that's not a fair comparison. But it doesn't seem fair that I was feeling guilty for not spending more time thinking (and writing) about Marcie's birth family-- and how our gain has been their loss.

I definitely appreciate the gift. I understand (at least on an academic level) that placing your child with strangers halfway around the world-- strangers you've never met and will probably never meet-- and just trusting that they will take good care of your child is hard. And that's an understatement. I think it must either be an act of sheer desperation or extraordinary hope. I've heard that expression -- if you love someone, set them free. And adoption is a totally different take on that statement.

I feel so grateful for Marcie. For her energy. Her kisses and her questions. I love the way she looks up to Casey and the way she sucks on her blanket when she's falling asleep at night. I love that she shows compassion for others. I love how she repeats everything we say. I love how excited she gets with a new pair of shoes or a new toy. I love that she wants to do things herself. She makes my world a better place. And that makes her one of the greatest gifts I've ever, ever received (Casey being the other great gift).

But sometimes I feel such pressure to acknowledge and honor her past, her history, her roots-- and I feel overwhelmed by it and complete inadequate at following through. I don't think I can fully understand and appreciate Chinese culture. I'm not saying I shouldn't try. Or that I don't. I'm lucky because we have family and friends who are immigrants from China and first generation Americans, so we have a lot of exposure. It's just not something I obsess about. It's true that when we contemplated B.S. #3, I wanted to return to the Asian continent for ease of future travel to the region (though I may be retracting my stance in the future). I was worried that having too many kids from different cultures would make things, well, difficult. That I wouldn't be able to honor their respective roots.

And then I read Johnny's posts Burning Ships, part I and Burning Ships, part II. What I found interesting about them is his perspective in light of the fact that Johnny, like my husband, is first generation American. And Johnny and my husband share a common perspective. I don't know how I feel about it yet. We do plan to return one day to China with Marcie. To take her to Chongqing. To let her experience where she came from. We do that already with Casey, though it's a lot closer than China, so that makes it easier. I won't be able to ingrain in Marcie the Chinese way, in a manner of speaking. After all, she is American as much as she is Chinese.

But I want to honor her history. Her heritage. Where she came from is part of who she is. And I don't just mean that it's part of her name. It's her past. Her story. I think Johnny is right-- she's an immigrant, not just an adoptee. Which "label" will define her more? I don't know. Maybe neither. But she'll have to decide that for herself. My job is to support her as she navigates her place in the world. She's only two now. But she's growing so fast. Before I know it, she'll be talking on the phone, dressing up in heels, asking for make- up. Wait. She's doing those things now! Some day I won't be able to control the length of the phone conversation, the height of the heels, or the brand and amount of the make-up. I'll have to trust her to do those things for herself and hope that I've adequately prepared her.

In the mean time, I'm just so grateful to know her. To love her. To call her my own. My little Marcie. I'm so, so lucky to be her mom. Happy Birthday!

Charmed Life

Last weekend I went away with a friend of mine to Big Bear to scrapbook Casey's Story and Marcie's Story. The books are an explanation of each my children's beginnings-- not your typical scrapbook. They tell how each of them came to become part of our family, and they share a little bit about the world from whence they came. They're written for Casey and Marcie to understand now, as a toddler and a preschooler. The scrapbooking weekend is a topic for another post in itself, but the road trip portion of it was interesting, and it's what motivates me to write this entry.

I was explaining to my friend (who rode with me) that sometimes I look around and see how other people lead what appear to me to be charmed lives. It's not that I'm ungrateful for the life I lead. I'm actually very happy with my life. But it's work, too. For example, I said, we got a $500 refund check from Marcie's adoption in the mail the same week that I was in the car accident and needed to pay the $500 deductible. I mean, it could be worse-- at least we had the money.

She inquired as to how I was defining charmed life. And that caused me great pause. Because I was thinking that people who live charmed lives are people to whom life seems to happen. They just always seem to be in the right place at the right time. Things work out for them. They never really seem to struggle. And my friend pointed out that my $500 check example could be seen as pretty charmed, then, couldn't it? And, of course, she's right.

So I decided to look up the definition of a charmed life. What I found was that Answers.com defines it as "a life that seems to have been protected by a charm or spell." And Dictionary.net explains it's a life that is protected by or invulnerable because of "spells, charms, or supernatural influences."

Now, I certainly do not believe any spell or charm or supernatural influence is keeping me or my family safe. But I suppose that leading a charmed life is as much about perspective as it is about anything. And perhaps I had the wrong perspective.

I mean, the $500 check is one example. But I can think of plenty of others, too. For instance, if we hadn't struggled with fertility issues, Casey probably wouldn't be our son. That's not to say we wouldn't have adopted children; I think we would have considered it eventually, regardless. But at that point in our lives, at the exact time that Casey was born, we wouldn't have been adopting. I wouldn't have left teaching, probably. I probably wouldn't have gone to law school, or run the Disneyworld marathon. I wouldn't have met some people whom I now consider to be my closest friends. Sure, I would have done other stuff, and I would have made other friends. But the point is that what felt like this horrible thing happening to me was such blessing in so many other ways.

Another example is the car accident. It could have been so much worse. I mean, like I wrote about before, the kids could have been with me. Or I could have totalled the car. Or someone could have really been hurt. This really hit home for me early this week when we learned that one of Casey's classmates lost his 36-year-old mother in a car accident. I mean, there I was talking to her on the playground last week. And this week she's gone. And her two-year-old probably will not have any actual memories of her mother. And her four-year-old's memories will be limited at best. No warning. No good-byes. Just there in the morning when the kids woke up and gone that evening when they were tucked in bed. And here I am irritated because I had to drive a crappy rental car for a month. I mean, if you're going to be in a car accident, one where there are no substantial injuries and no children present is the kind of accident to be involved in. So my point is that leading a charmed life isn't about never having struggles-- it's about how you face those challenges and how you choose to handle them.

So here I sit. My children tucked quietly in bed for the night. And I am ever-so-grateful for the life I lead. I work hard at it. But it doesn't make it any less charmed . . .

Super Eater, Super Sleeper

It dawns on me as I write this that perhaps I should not compare our kids. Hmm. I don't mean it like we are creating expectations for one based on the other. Just that it's interesting to see how they handle things differently.

For instance, Marcie is a super eater. She'll try anything. I'm not exaggerating here. Admittedly, she doesn't like everything, but just about. She always turns away lettuce, cucumbers, and tomatoes, for example. But if she sees anyone eating something, she wants it, too. This is so nice. Last night for dinner, I made Marcie and Casey pizza, and Jason and I had flounder. Marcie asked me for some of my flounder (by grunting at me) and then gobbled it up and asked for more. What not-even-two-year-old eats fish? Casey, on the other hand, is not adventurous with food. It's a battle just to get him to smell something new. Forget about tasting it. Of course, on the flip side of this, Casey doesn't eat constantly, isn't really a big fan of sweets (including cake), and we don't worry that he'll eat himself silly.

On the flip side of things, Casey is a super sleeper. He lays down at bed time (or nap time) and sings to himself or counts sheep or whatever. We just kiss him good-night, shut off the light, and walk about the door. He naps, even 4 1/2 for at least an hour a day. And lately, his nighttime sleep has been extending (I actually wake him up at 6:45am many mornings now, when he used to wake me up at 6:00am). Marcie, on the other hand, is not so good with the sleeping. She cat naps for like 30 minutes at a time. If we're lucky, she might nap for a solid hour in the afternoon. She screams when we put her down at bed, and she wakes up anywhere between once and four times during the night (and wakes us up right along with her). Then she's up between 5:45am and 6:15am for the day.

Last week -- or the week before-- I decided enough was enough-- it was time for Marcie to learn to put herself to sleep. So on Thursday night (I think it was Thursday), when I put her in bed, I told her she needed to put herself to sleep. That I loved her. That I was right outside her door. And that I'd be there in the morning. And good-night. I turn off the light, and I put up the gate in the doorway. And she began to cry. And cry. And scream. And cry. It started out with the loud wails. Then progressed into, "MOMMY! PO- PO!" (Po-po is essentially hold me in Cantonese.) Then she started yelling, "ALL DONE!" and finally began clapping her hands in between screams.

This all in the first five minutes after I put her down. After five minutes I walked into her bedroom, picked her up, put her in bed, told her I loved her, I would be there when she woke up, and covered her back up. Left the room and put the gate up. And repeated the scenario. I did this every 5 minutes for the first 1/2 hour. Then every 10 minutes for the next half hour. Then every 15 minutes (where I planned to hold it until she fell asleep). Thankfully, after the first 15 minutes of screaming and carrying on, she finally fell asleep.

The next night, it was the same. Except instead of taking an hour and a half, it only took maybe 45 minutes. And the next night we were out for the night. She cried and cried in the babysitter's arms for about an hour, until she fell asleep. (I guess we got our money's worth that evening!) Sunday, it was more like 20 minutes, and then for the past week, it's been between 10 and 15 minutes of crying. Over the weekend, the crying (whimpering, really) started when it was time to brush teeth now. Then, a couple nights ago, when I put her down I told her to put herself to sleep, and that I'd check on her in 10 minutes. Eight minutes later, she began crying out for me to hold her. At 10 minutes, I put her back in bed and told her I loved her. She asked me to lay down, and I told her no because she needed to learn to put herself to sleep. And when I checked on her 10 minutes later, she'd put herself to sleep! (As a side note to all of this, Casey actually has been able to sleep through all of Marcie's carrying on-- he really is a super sleeper.) And last night and tonight she went down with no tears at all. I'm banking on the theory that three nights in a row is a pattern. Yippee!

Now, I have very mixed feelings about this sleep-training. Some people call it Ferberizing, and I think I've written about it before. Others call it controlled crying because you don't leave the child in distress to cry for hours on end. I call it heart-wrenching and pretty sucky. And if I could survive on bouts of 3 hours of sleep for years on end and was confident I'd be home at bedtime to lay down with each child to help him or her fall asleep, I might consider not sleep-training. But the truth is that we all know how important sleep is. And I'd be doing a disservice to Marcie if I didn't help her learn how to put herself to sleep. I mean, if she wanted to eat chocolate kisses and only chocolate kisses, and she screamed and cried and carried on if I told her she had to eat something else, I surely wouldn't give in. Because it's bad for her teeth and bad for her growth. I think sleep is kind of like that.


On the other hand, I must admit, I've really been putting off this sleep training in many respects (though I've toyed with doing it off and on for a while) because she's adopted. If you haven't adopted a child who was older than newborn, this probably sounds crazy to you. But if you have adopted a child who's older than just-born, you probably know exactly what I mean. It's all connected to the issue of attachment. And in this sense, I may have fallen prey to the very thing I never want my kids to feel (though I imagine some day they might)-- that they behave in a particular way or feel a certain way simply because they are adopted. I don't want how they joined their family, our family, to be an excuse. For anything. And yet here I am, using it as an excuse myself.


Because a part of me worries that Marcie doesn't like sleeping alone at night (or any time, actually) because it's foreign to her. She feels safer surrounded by others-- just how it was when she lived in China. I know it's irrational because she probably doesn't even remember China anymore. But aren't fears irrational? Maybe she doesn't know why being alone in her bedroom causes her anxiety but it's because of this childhood experience she doesn't remember. Is that possible? As much as I cling to this fear, though, I also know deep in my gut and just as deeply in my heart that Marcie knows she is part of our family and always has been, since the day she was born. She has shown no difficulties with attachment, really. She seems to feel safe and secure and really appears to love being part of this little family of ours. I have no reason to believe the bedtime blues are anything but typical toddler behavior (except the Internet reading I've done on the subject of attachment, or lack thereof, which can display in just one area of a child's life sometimes).


In the end, though, I know she needs to sleep. I need to sleep. And Marcie understands when we tell her we love her, and we'll be there when she wakes up in the morning. So it'll be okay, right?

Setback

I hope it's a tiny, tiny setback. But a setback it is nonetheless. I found what I thought was an error in our homestudy, so it didn't make it to USCIS last week. Which means nothing was notarized or certified or authenticated. It means nothing was sent in the mail to the Chinese Consulate. It means we're still waiting.

It turned out there was an error in the homestudy describing the "child we desire," but it wasn't critical because China looks at our Adoption Petition for that information and not the homestudy at all.

We still asked that it be updated. And, hopefully, we'll be following the previously described process next week instead. Hopefully.

What's the big deal of one week? Well, consider that China just made referrals for four days' worth of paperwork this month. The week-delay could, quite literally, cost us several months in the end. That is to say, we may end up waiting even longer because of it.

It's all part of the process, we realize. But it's still a bummer.

Speaking of Familyversaries

I just wanted to give a special congratulations to our friends Jennie and Max and their two new sons. Jennie and Max just celebrated their eleventh wedding anniversary, put their house on the market in Northern California, celebrated Jennie's graduation from law school and completion of the bar exam (results come out in late November), moved to Southern California and added two new additions to their family. All that in three months' time. Did I mention Jennie starts a new job in about a month? And you all think I'm crazy busy!

Seriously, though, Jennie and Max are my age-- early 30s. And they knew they wanted a family. And they fell in love with two boys, an 8 year old and a 10 year old-- and viola! Insta-family. Jennie and Max officially became foster parents yesterday on their road toward adoption. I know they have a long road ahead of them (and they know that, too). But if you could see the joy on their faces, hear the excitement in their voices. . . you would be as overwhelmed with happiness for them all as I am. And this is a family creation that's worth celebrating (because, aren't all family creations worth celebrating?).

I'm not posting pictures or using the boys' names out of sensitivity to their privacy. So you'll just have to trust me. They are super cute.

And one more familyversary date has been established . . .

Familyversary

Yesterday, August 21st, was our Familyversary. Some people in the adoption community call it Family Day. Others call it Gotcha Day.* Honestly, we don't really call it anything because we don't really celebrate it. But I've dubbed it our Familyversary, at least in my mind.
The whole point of celebrating a familyversary is that it's the day your family was made. Or updated. For most families, this day is the day their child is born. For many adoptive families, though, we don't meet our children for days or months or even years. So our family isn't born, per se, until the day we meet our children.

Casey joined our family the day he was born. Though, I suppose technically, legally, he didn't join it for three days. We just celebrate his birthday. (* I should note here that some people consider Family Day or Gotcha Day as the day they finalized their adoptions. In our case, our adoptions weren't finalized/ re-finalized in California until months after we actually "got" our kids.)

Marcie, on the other hand, joined our family on August 21, 2006, a full nine months after she entered the world. So yesterday was the anniversary of our family. I imagine when we add our B.S. #3, our Familyversary date will change to the date he or she becomes part of our family. But we probably still won't celebrate it. Don't get me wrong-- Marcie is an amazing addition to our family. We just weren't complete without her. But we celebrate family all the time. And we celebrate Marcie (and Casey) all the time, too. At least I'd like to think we do.

I don't have a problem with other people celebrating their Familyversaries. It's a nice thing to acknowledge. But I don't want to emphasize it, either. The way I see it, Marcie was always meant for us, even before she was born. And we were always meant for her. It just took us a while to find each other. I guess that's not a great reason not to celebrate the day; after all, we still celebrate our wedding day, even though in theory we celebrate our marriage all the time. So I don't have a good explanation for why we don't make a big deal of our Familyversary. We just don't. I think if it becomes important to Marcie as she gets older, we'll take her lead. In the meantime, our Familyversary is just like every other day. Just with a special name. And we did create a cool name for the day, don't you think?

In any case, we did happen to go out last night. It was coincidental that it was our Familyversary. We went to Red Robin (I think Casey was going through withdrawal). I took lots of photos that show how much Marcie has grown in the year she's been with us. But here's my favorite:

I also took a photo of Marcie in the outfit she was wearing when we first met her. Check her out:

THEN:

AND NOW . . . (sorry about the blurriness of the first photo)

And to all you families out there who have familyversaries to celebrate, HAPPY FAMILYVERSARY!

Oh, Happy Adoption Day

When both parents travel to China together for an adoption, you take the oath of parenthood (I don't know if that's the official name of it, but it describes what you say) and promise you didn't lie on your paperwork in front of the consular at the American Consulate in China. If both parents don't go, you have to re-adopt the child in the U.S. to make it official and final. We both traveled to China, so our adoption was legal and final in China. And Marcie became a citizen when we all crossed back into the U.S. together through customs. But we decided to re-adopt Marcie in California anyway. Just a formality since she was already legally and permanently ours (unlike in Casey's adoption), but this will allow her to get a birth certificate here in the U.S.

We arrived at the courthouse about 15 minutes early, and Marcie hung out with Casey and with Grandma. Jason and I were there, too, of course.

We didn't wait long-- less than 30 minutes. The judge was running ahead of schedule, so he called us about 10 minutes before our scheduled hearing time.

Now, I know exactly one judge in the California courts personally. He was my criminal procedure professor for a full year of law school. I only had two professors for a full year of studies in law school, and the judge, Justice H., was one of them. He is an appellate court judge in California, and he prosecuted a very famous local case here when I was growing up. So imagine my surprise when we entered the court room and it was Justice H. who was all set up to formalize our adoption! Pretty neat, if you ask me. . .

I vaguely remember taking that parent oath when we adopted Casey. The courthouse was also much busier that day in September, but this time, things went very quickly. We signed the adoption decree, and we received our certificate. But we didn't have to make any new promises (though we were, of course, prepared to do so). This photo above is me signing my name. I forgot how long my name is to sign, being that I have two last names. And my brain is so jello-y lately, with the Bar exam a mere four days away.

I included this photo just so you could see what they do here in the jury box-- they fill it with giant, happy, stuffed children. Pretty neat.

After we signed the forms, Justice H took photos with us. We actually have a much better Polaroid version of this, but it gives you the idea.

Outside the court room we met another family there to readopt their daughter, Elizabeth. Elizabeth is from the Jangxi (did I spell that right?) province. She is 14 months old and they've been back in the U.S. for 4 months. We exchanged information so the girls can maybe get together . . .

Outside the courthouse, we took a family picture. Ann, Casey's godmother, also came to show her support for the adoption, and she was our photographer for the afternoon (thanks, Ann!). There is another picture with us all looking at the camera, but Marcie is actually smiling in this one, so I'm sharing this one instead.

The whole thing was over by 3pm. We'd planned to go to Emerald, a yummy local Chinese restaurant for a meal, but 3pm was too early. So we went to Cheesecake Factory for cake instead. Ann came with us, and despite missing out on half their naps, the kids were relatively well behaved.

Marcie's been part of our family for almost a year now. We don't even remember what life was like before her. We are so lucky . . .

My, What a Difference a Year Makes, Part II

One year ago today, I saw Marcie's face for the first time. It was in an e-mail from our agency, CCAI. It was her "mug shot." And I fell in love. Well, I fell in love before I saw the picture. But the photo sure didn't hurt.


I still remember what I was wearing when I got the call-- gray pants, a purple sweater and black heels. I was settling in to my office, trying to figure out where I'd set up the video camera when my cell phone rang. It wasn't even 8:30am yet, and our agency was calling to tell us all about Yang Fu Ji.


I remember the Recruitment Coordinator Chali kindly printing color copies of Marcie's picture on photo paper for me so I could put up her photo next to Casey's in my office.


I remember racing through the firm, stopping in each office doorway to share the picture of my new daughter. (In retrospect, I must have seemed a little crazed to these people who hadn't even known me for a month yet.)


Marcie didn't have an American name yet. And we didn't name her June 27th, either. We narrowed it down to two choices a year ago today. (Obviously Marcie was one of them.)


A year ago today, I worried about how much air fare would cost. If we would get to see the Great Wall. How much Marcie would weigh by the time we met her.


Yeah. I remember what a big deal June 27, 2006 was to me. But in some ways I feel like I remember it from outside myself. Like I was watching it all happen to me . . . because I barely remember what life was like before Marcie joined our family.


And, my, look what a difference a year has made to her. Below left is Marcie's referral photo. Below right was taken almost exactly a year later. Yeah. A year makes a BIG difference . . .

B.S. #3 The Paperchase & FAQs

So we have decided to pursue an adoption from China again. For B.S. #3 (That's Baby S. #3, although really Casey and Marcie aren't so much babies anymore). I was obsessing about it a while back, in May. And then I got sidetracked studying. Well, not really. Adoption's been on my mind-- I just haven't had much time to write about it. But now is the time I answer your burning questions:

1. Why China?
We kicked it around quite a bit back in May, as you know if you read regularly. I really struggled with it. I felt kind of strongly that I wanted to return to Asia because I want to be able to maintain some sort of connection to my children's roots. We already have two continents covered, and adding a third seemed a bit daunting to me (though truth be told, if things don't work out with China for us, we'll be making a bee-line to Ethiopia!).

Here's what it came down to for us. I did a boatload of research on Taiwan adoptions. They are private adoptions. We'd hire a US agency to coordinate with a nursery in Taiwan. We did select an agency-- the one agency we received so much positive feedback about, I felt very comfortable with them. I received a lot of unsolicited recommendations, and that's always a good sign. Their Taiwan program coordinator was amazingly patient, personable, and responsive. If you're contemplating Taiwan, you might look into FCA. They work with Cathwel in Taiwan. The thing is that the wait was going to be 18 months (average) until match-- and stretching. Plus another 6 months or so while the paperwork moved through the courts. And that's in addition to the homestudy. So basically we're looking at about 2 years from time of turning in paperwork. I was okay with the wait (there are several other agencies that have shorter waits, but many are new or I got very mixed reviews or they were terrible at follow-up). But then I started thinking-- if we're going to wait 2 years anyway, why not go back to China? With an agency I love, love, love? Plus, Taiwan was looking like it was going to cost substantially more (I estimated in the $10,000 range more), and with that extra money, we could bring the kids with us to China-- which might be nice (depending on their ages and temperaments at the time we travel). Given the risks involved in the Taiwan adoptions, the length of the wait, the additional costs, and the unknowns, we opted for China again.

2. What about the new restrictions? Do you qualify?
Yeah. We qualify. If something weird happens when we're in the review room, we'll have a valid international homestudy, we'll eat the agency cost, and we'll head for Ethiopia. Seriously.

3. Who are you using for the adoption?
We've returned to CCAI as our agency and Adoption Options as our homestudy agency. One of the reasons I was leaning against a California-based Taiwan agency is because they didn't work with Adoption Options, and I have had such a positive experience with them that I just didn't want to start a whole new homestudy process. Returning to agencies that have worked with us means they have a lot of our information and paperwork on file already, which makes our lives a lot easier.

4. Why now? Don't you think you should wait until after the Bar Exam?
Actually, making a decision is a huge relief. And perhaps we should wait until after July to start the paperwork, but with estimates placing the wait for a child from China estimated to stretch to 3 years, we know that getting paperwork done sooner rather than later makes sense. So we're taking it slowly, step by step, piece by piece. And when all the paperwork is together, we'll mail it in.

5. When do you think you'll be finished with "the paperchase"? What is the "paperchase" anyway?
Paperchasing is adoption lingo for gathering all the paperwork you need in your dossier. The dossier is the document that gets translated and sent to the China Center for Adoption Affairs, where they comb through your information and approve you as a prospective adoptive family. It includes birth certificates, marriage certificate, criminal clearance letters, proof of employment, proof of medical insurance, medial reports, a homestudy (which has a whole additional host of documents), a financial statement, and an adoption petition-- that's the brunt of it. To complete the dossier, though, not only do we have to collect all the right forms, but the forms have to go through a series of notarizations, certifications, and authentications to prove we haven't forged them or obtained them fraudulently. In addition to these documents, the homestudy is sent to USCIS (US Center for Immigration Services? I have no idea what it stands for; I'm totally making it up)-- anyway, they review the homestudy to approve us to bring home an orphan from a foreign country and they essentially pre-approve a visa for the child. This form/permission is the coveted 1-171H. And once that's in your hands, you can send everything off for certifications and authentications.

We are hoping to have our homestudy finished in August. We are hoping to have our paperwork all completed in September for shipment to our agency in October. Some of that will depend on whether we do all the notarizing, certifying, and authenticating ourselves, or if we have our agency do it for us. This process involves getting each document notarized. Then having our County Clerk certify the notary signature. Then having the Secretary of State in the local office certify the County Clerk signature (which is certifying the notary signature). Then we send all of that to the appropriate Chinese Consulate, which authenticates the Secretary of State signature (which is certifying the county clerk signature, which is certifying the notary signature). As you might imagine, that's rather time consuming.

6. Do you want a boy or a girl?
Yes. We want a boy or a girl. Or maybe we'll be brave and even request twins (which we'd never get, seeing as how we already have two kiddos). We go back and forth on this. We may request a boy. But even if we do, we'll make it clear we would be happy with a girl, too. We did not request a gender last time; we just requested a child "as young as possible." In the end, gender just isn't that important to us. On the one hand, I'd love to have another boy. On the other hand, I'd love to have another girl. Especially because Marcie is the only girl out of 7 grandkids. (Anyone else in the H. or S. families want to work on that for us? You know, ensure Marcie have a female playmate. . . we'd be cool with that!)

7. How old will the baby be?
We don't know. We qualify for a child ages 0-12 months old. And so that's what we will request.

8. Will the baby be from the same orphanage as Marcie?
Again, we don't know. We will be requesting a child from Yunyang Chengxiang Social Welfare Institute, which is where Marcie is from. We will be requesting a child from Chongqing Municipality, also where Marcie is from. We don't mind getting a child from anywhere in China, though. Going somewhere new would be a nice adventure. Returning to Chongqing would be nice, too-- we'd know what to expect, and it makes "returning to roots" much easier. But we're not that picky. We'll request these things, but I'm confident we'll end up with the child who is meant to be ours, no matter what part of China the child is from.

9. When will you meet the baby?
As I explained before, we're expecting the wait to stretch to two or three years. That puts us in China some time in 2010 or 2011. That's still awfully far away, which is why we're starting the process now. Marcie will be at least 5 by then. Casey will be 8. That's a bigger age spread than I'd ever planned. On the other hand, Jason will be home full time by then, and it's just more time to pay off debts and put away money. With five of us in our home, we'll be considering a home addition by the time 2011 rolls around, I think. If we can afford it. (Ah, to dream!)

10. Will this be "it"?
I don't know. We always planned to have at least three children. I can't say we'll close our hearts to additional family members after that. I can't say we'll seek another adoption actively, either. Let's see how things go with BS #3 and we can move forward from there.

11. What's your timeline so far?
I am keeping track of a timeline, which I'll be adding to the right margin eventually. Like I said, we're on schedule for now!

Have a question I didn't answer? E-mail me and I'll give you a response!

My, What a Difference a Year Makes, Part I

A year ago today we learned that the information about our soon-to-be daughter was being feverishly translated by our agency in Colorado. We learned that we would be getting all the details the following day.

A year ago today I was running between 14 and 18 miles a week. I was in the midst of training for the America's Finest City Half Marathon (which I didn't end up running).

A year ago today I was spending my days researching interesting legal issues, learning about "big firm life," and commuting to a high rise in downtown San Diego.

A year ago today my dog died. I can't believe it's been a whole year. Casey still asks about him-- seeks confirmation that Chuffy really died. He did.

A year ago today I still had another year of law school left to complete.

My, what a difference a year makes. . .

Today, I will spend between 6 and 8 hours in the law school library, cramming as much information about California law as I can in preparation for the bar exam.

Today I ate lunch with my sister, who is getting married in a year. I haven't seen her since Christmas time when she got engaged.

Today I woke up at 3am and again at 6:09am. The first time I was in my own bed. The second time I was in Marcie's bed. Marcie didn't even have a bed in our house a year ago.

Today Casey told me he didn't want to put on socks because he was playing Thomas and that if he couldn't watch TV this morning, he wanted his big brother and big sister and Uncle Jason and Aunt Stephanie and Uncle Tram (who is really Aunt Tram) and Uncle Bryan and Other Grandma. . . anyone but Mommy. He also told me he was mad at me, and later that he wasn't mad at me anymore. He couldn't say any of those things a year ago.

Today Marcie picked out what shoes she wanted to wear, told me what she wanted for breakfast, blew Jason kisses bye-bye, and gave Grandma a great big hug when we got to her house. A year ago, there were no sweet kisses and no warm hugs. Just a photo of Marcie sitting in a pile of papers with her Chinese name attached.

My, what a difference a year makes . . .

Jumping, Soccer, and other Fun

Sorry it's been a while. Is anyone even still reading this thing? Who would have guessed that studying for the bar would take so much out of me? Honestly, what's really kept me from blogging is lack of Internet access during the daytime. I'm too tired to get online when I get home, and I don't have Internet access during class. Which is probably better for my studying and focus. . .

So the big news this week is that Marcie has learned to jump. She is a riot with it. After the Little Gym class last week, she decided to try on her own. During class, she always bends her knees and lets me lift her, but this past weekend she decided to jump on her own. And, my, she is very proud of herself. And so darn cute doing it. She has also begun to run. Not speed walk (I am always so surprised and impressed at how quickly toddlers move!), but run. This morning, she ran from the car to her grandmother's front door. She paused before the stoop step and stepped up it carefully, then stretched up on her tippy toes to ring the doorbell. All. By. her. self. It's crazy how fast she's growing up.

As pleased as I am with her motor development (and her language skills, which never cease to impress me-- this morning she said thank you unprompted!), I am really displeased with her sleep habits. I vaguely remember Casey going through this phase of waking in the middle of the night and wanting a milk cup/bottle-- or was it chicken? There was also a phase during which he'd wake up at 1am and ask for chicken to eat. And I remember talking to someone (my mom? Jason? friends?) about how it was bad for his teeth and I needed to break him of it. But I was so tired, that it was just so hard not to just give him the drink and let him put himself back to sleep. For the life of me, I cannot remember what we did to resolve the issue. Or if it cleared on its own. I think it might have gone away on its own, and we chalked it up to a growth spurt. Oh, but if only it were so easy with Marcie. After going to bed last night, she got up twice-- once around midnight and the other time around 5am. I guess that's 5 hours of sleep in a row. But the night before-- goodness almighty-- I was up with her four times. Each time she asked me for milk, and each time I said no. Until 4am. When I finally gave in and gave her some water. I probably just totally ruined things doing that, huh? I probably almost had her trained to believe I wouldn't get her middle-of-the-night beverages and blew it when she asked the fourth time. Anyway, it's getting old.

And I can't help but wonder my eternal question-- are Marcie's sleep issues just regular kid issues or adoption issues? Is she just not used to sleeping alone? She's been home with us in her own bed now since November, so around 7 1/2 months. Is it that she is frightened by the dark? (We leave a hall light on now.) Is it that she wants to make sure I'm still around? Or am I just making too much of it all? It's so hard to know-- and as I have explained to all those people around me who roll their eyes at me when I talk about it-- I don't want to be one of those people who blames everything on adoption. But I also don't want to ignore the fact that Marcie may have issues that we need to give more time to than we would if she were with us from birth. And for me, sleeping is just one of those things. I go back and forth on it. Sometimes I think, "Enough is enough already!" But then the next day I think, "Geez, Karen, give it some time, already!"

Anyway, in other news, Casey plays in his first real soccer game this Saturday! Hopefully we'll get some photos or video of that. More importantly, hopefully he won't just lay down on the field and ignore the ball. And the real big news of last week was the arrival of my nephew, Ethan Xavier H. He is the seventh grandchild to my parents, the sixth boy. (Poor Marcie!)He was 7 pounds, 4 ounces and 20 inches. He had a full head of hair (almost as much as Marcie!!!), and eyebrows already. I'd post a picture of me and Jason with him, but I stupidly forgot my camera when we went to visit him in the hospital, and I've been staying away ever since (because I developed a viral throat infection on Sunday-- good times, but at least I can breathe, so I'm grateful for that!).

I DO have more to tell- I think I left everyone hanging with our adoption decision. And we did make one. And we are paper-chasing for BS #3. But I'll have to save that for another post, when I have a bit more time to write.

Oh. And for those of you still reading this blog. Thank you.

Happy Mother's Day!

To all you moms out there, Happy Mother's Day! And a special shout-out to my own mom, who never gets to spend Mother's Day with her kids, but is always on our minds . . .

Every year on Mother's Day, I think about my journey to motherhood-- how I got where I am. When Jason and I first began our quest for children, I just assumed we'd be pregnant within 3 months, become of a family of 3 within the year. Not so. And as the months dragged by and we took stock of our goals, we quickly realized that our goal wasn't pregnancy, it was family! And fortunately for me, I have a rational husband who shared my sense that family isn't about biology, and off our first adoption adventure we began.

When we first contemplated open adoption, we were skeptical. Who isn't really? What with all those crazy-scary Lifetime movies about birth families changing their minds and taking back their children, it would seem that adoption can be a scary and risky venture. And it can be. I mean, here in California, for instance, biological parents have up to 3 months (90 days!) to change their minds and rescind the adoption. Adoptive parents then have to return the child (the child they've been caring for!). But my guess is that the statistics on this are more rare than Lifetime would like us to think. (Admittedly, for those to whom this has happened, the statistics don't mean anything because the pain of it all is so hard to bear.)

In any case, we thought open adoption was a great idea. The notion that we could know our child's birth family-- his ongoing medical history (which of course changes over time as relatives age). The idea that if he had a question about his biological mother, he could just ask her. The notion that he would always know adoption was a decision borne of love and not of passivity or lacking concern. And if I were to do it again, I'd choose an open adoption again in a heartbeat. I wouldn't do it any other way-- we've gained so much from the relationship with Casey's extended family. And so has he. More aunts and uncles to love him. More grandparents to spoil him. More cousins to play with. And even a big brother and big sister to mentor him and teach him to play ball and to cherish him. There is no lack of love in Casey's world. Open adoption has not been co-parenting-- there is no question who makes the decisions about Casey. Open adoption has been about Casey knowing who he is and where he came from and how ended up as part of our family. It works a little differently for everyone, but putting Casey's interests first means honoring who he is. And that means where he comes from, too.

Last week The Washington Post did an article on open adoption (thanks for e-mailing it to me, Alison), and what I love about the article is how it features the child's birthmother. Because today, on Mother's Day, that article speaks to me especially vividly. I think about how Casey's birthmom would have had the joy and the pain of watching him grow up, grateful that he was healthy and well-adjusted and loved, and sorrowful for all the times she had to say good-bye. Birthmothers-- or first mothers-- they make real sacrifice. And that makes them mothers. So today, on Mother's Day, I want to say Happy Mother's Day to birthmothers, biological moms, first mothers out there. It's so easy to be forgotten. We focus so heavily on how "real" moms do the parenting (and we do!). But that doesn't mean birthmothers aren't real moms, too.

As an adoptive mom of two, I am so very grateful for the gift my kids' biological mothers gave them-- and me. If Casey's birthmom had lived, he would have always known who she was. And she would have always known how well he was doing. But it would have been painful, too. To see him and not be with him. Marcie's birthmom won't have that benefit. If they celebrated Mother's Day in China, I wonder what she would be doing today. I imagine she wonders about Marcie every day. I imagine she prays that Marcie ended up in a good home with a family who loves her and takes good care of her (she did!). I imagine the pain of not knowing is sometimes unbearable. And that would make Mother's Day even more difficult for her.

We have made a commitment to our children-- that they will grow up knowing their roots. I hope that it means not only knowing extended family (for Casey) and learning about China (for Marcie). I hope it also means they will grow up honoring their first mothers for the sacrifice they made-- not selfishly, but lovingly.

I know there is a holiday here in the U.S.-- Birthmother's Day-- celebrated the day before Mother's Day. I think it's intended to honor those women who give birth but do not parent those children. And it's a cool idea. In theory. But I don't think it needs to be a separate day. First mothers, Long-time mothers-- we're all mothers just the same. And today is a day to honor all moms, near and far.

Cheating-- on becoming a parent for the second (or third) time

So you know we've decided to begin our process for kiddo #3. I was talking to a friend who is a mom of one this week about whether she and her husband are ready to start thinking about #2 yet. Her daughter is almost 1. She laughed at me. Not ready yet. And that made me think about how I felt when we were contemplating number two so many years ago.

We've always planned on having at least 3 children. Where the kids would come from, the number of years between each one-- those details, well, we left those to be determined.

When Casey was about 16 months old, we began talking about preparing to welcome a second child into the family. In my head, I thought a two-and-a-half year spread between children would be just about perfect. And our first adoption took about a year from start to finish, so we figured we should start the process again when Casey was around 18 months old.

But when the time came, I suddenly wasn't sure it was right. I didn't know if I had it in me. I still knew I wanted Casey to have siblings to grow up with. As one of four kids myself, I (literally) can't even imagine growing up as an only child. And I want Casey to have that same sense of one great-big-happy family that I was lucky enough to grow up with. But I felt so conflicted about it. Two years, it turns out, really isn't that long with a child. If we had a second child, it would mean less time and attention from us for Casey-- at least initially. Was that fair? Would he understand? Did I want to give up even minute of these precious years?

I remember calling my mom and asking her if she felt similarly when I came along. She basically told me I was nuts. And while I felt better about the notion of adding to our family, her comments didn't completely alleviate my deep-seeded concerns.

But by the time Marcie came along, my worries had completely dissipated. The adoption took longer than we'd anticipated, of course, because of the number of waiting families for babies from China. And as much as Casey loves Marcie, these past nine months have definitely been a transitional period. When I sit on Casey's bedroom floor to watch him get dressed, for instance, Marcie pretty much always toddles over, backs her way onto my lap, and plops down. Inevitably, this irritates Casey who wants my complete attention. And he starts dancing around the room, sometimes singing and sometimes screeching like a dolphin. It slows him down. When he finally gets a shirt on and Marcie wants to go point out what character he's wearing, he gets mad that she's poked him in the chest. Initially he responded by pushing her back. Now he knows better. But it took time. Training. And we're all the better for it now. But I'm not going to cherry coat it-- it hasn't been easy all this time.

Another thing I think I considered but couldn't really anticipate for sure was how Marcie's sleep pattern would disrupt Casey. For instance, the other night, when I put Marcie to bed, she started to cry. This worried Casey, who wandered out into the hallway and stood outside her door on the opposite side of the baby gate from her. He began yelling, "MOMMY! COME HERE! MOMMY! MARCIE NEEDS YOU!" Now, bless his heart for trying to help his sister out. But not good for his routine. I told him if she cried for more than 5 minutes, I'd move him into our bedroom. Fortunately, they were both asleep shortly thereafter. And I think Marcie's middle of the night wakings have disturbed Casey on occasion, too. There have been far too many nights where I've just bounced from one child's bedroom to the next, calming them down and sticking around until they fell back asleep.

And so here we are-- given the current wait times for adoptions, we know we have to get started soon if we hope for our children to be fewer than four years apart in age. I have no qualms about bringing a third child into our family. I've spent so much of these past 5 years researching, talking about, or participating in an adoption, I imagine it will feel very strange some day when we are no longer actively contemplating it!

So, as conflicted as I felt-- as worried as I was that I'd be cheating on Casey to bring home a sibling, I can honestly say I don't feel that way at all this time. Bring it on! (Of course, Jason who will be staying home full time by the time we bring home #3 may feel a little more overwhelmed by this prospect than I do. But I doubt it.)

Here we go again . . .

So. We've decided to adopt. Again. We always planned on having three children, and even though Marcie hasn't been home for very long, by the time the adoption processes, she will have been. Home for years, in fact. So it's time to start.

When we selected Marcie's agency, CCAI, we researched a bunch of places, narrowed it down to a couple. Checked their BBB records. Did a search to see if there were any pending or settled law suits. And then called every single reference in Southern California on their multi-page list. And talked to them all. They ended up being a fantastic choice. Did they make mistakes? Yup. They did. They are an organization of humans, so mistakes are kind of par for the course. But they apologized. They fixed it. Fast. They cared. And we would use them again in a heartbeat. Except. . .

Except the wait for China has grown so long, that we estimate if we started the process tomorrow (which we wouldn't, given final exams and pending law school commencement), we would probably meet our child some time in the year 2011. And by then Marcie will be somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 years old. So there'd be about 4 years age difference between them. Which isn't insane or anything, it's just a little more than we were planning. Hoping. We may still end up going with China, but we're exploring our options.

We had been contemplating Africa-- Ethiopia in particular. And if we were going to, I'd be leaning toward AAI- Adoption Advocates, International. Though I've also heard good things about CHI- Children's Hope, International. So I'd have to do my background homework, check references, and make a decision. But if you happen to be in the same boat as me, that's where I'd start. The Ethiopia program is relatively centralized and stable. Things seem above-board. There is a great need for families for the children (of course, that's true everywhere in the world).

And some people-- a lot of people, actually-- have suggested we look into Latin America: Colombia or Guatemala seem to be the two recommendations we receive most. Unsolicited, of course, because we are not interested in adopting from Latin America. The children are beautiful, but I'm a really risk-averse person, and it just seems like so much depends on the in-country facilitator and there are risks about the "baby market" and so on. I know it works for a lot of people. And I'm happy for them. It's just not a good choice for me. It'd give me an ulcer. And even if I'm totally wrong about my impressions about the stability and potential ethical issues, it doesn't matter. Because that would always be at the back of my mind.

Ultimately, though, I'd like to stick close to China. It just makes sense. We've already made a commitment to our children-- that they will know their roots, whatever we can share with them. And since that takes us to Ohio and China already, it seems like it'd be most convenient for us to stay in the general region of China, at least. Plus, it just fits our family-- my husband being half-Chinese and all. I know that's not important to him, that our kids share his ethnicity. But between Jason's family and our many Chinese and Taiwanese friends, this is a culture we know something about. So it works for me.

So that brings me to Taiwan. The thing about Taiwan is that it is really decentralized, which means that the agency you work with more or less dictates your experience. With China, even though I love, love, loved our agency, I think most people have a pretty similar experience. Everyone submits the same paperwork. Everyone goes on the same waiting list. Everyone travels about the same length of time after their referral. And so on. Not so with Taiwan.

I am learning that Taiwan is like doing a domestic adoption, but in a foreign country. And that's okay. But that means there are some risks, too. For instance, in Taiwan, a referral can come when the child is very young-- a couple weeks or a couple months. And after you accept the referral, the child moves through the court system. This is just like in the United States. Except in the U.S., you can foster your own child while the paperwork process (and I think you can if you move to Taiwan, for that matter-- but that's another issue entirely). Anyway, during the 4-6 months it takes for the paperwork to proceed, the birth family can change its mind and opt to parent the child. Which means you may think you have a child coming, but it turns out he or she is not your child. Which I imagine is heart-breaking.

Another thing about Taiwan is that the type of program you enter more or less dictates the wait you have and frequently the relationship you have. Some programs are birthmother programs. That means the birthmother selects your family. You get to meet her (often). You get a full medical history. You may have ongoing contact with her. Other programs operate more like China did-- you wait until your paperwork gets to the top of the list and the in-Taiwan agency (which they call a nursery and we call an orphanage) matches you. You get all the medical information provided by the birth mother, but it's a closed adoption-- usually no ongoing contact and no exchange of information over time. So the agency you choose needs to reflect the type of adoption you'd like to have. (As a side note, I have been told that there is an adoption registry for international adoptees so they can find their biological families later in life if they want, but I haven't researched this yet.)

So this is where we are. Searching for an agency. Finding one with the right fit that offers the type of adoption we want and works with a nursery we like in Taiwan. Later, I'll post how I've approached my search. I've read articles about how to select an agency, but I think they are rather cursory-- especially for such an expensive and emotional endeavor. But for now, this is where we are. Getting ready to start our paperchase.

And yeah. I'm in the middle of finals. And preparing for graduation. And getting ready to start my Bar prep class to take the big exam in July. Doesn't this make it the perfect time to select an adoption agency and begin our homestudy? Heh, heh. Anyone who knows me and is reading this must be chuckling. This is such a Karen-thing to do. To launch an adoption journey in the midst of everything else. . . but I know it'll be well worth it in the long run. I've got evidence of it at home already. Double proof, in fact. I just can't imagine my life without Casey and Marcie.

Once we figure out what we're doing-- who we're using, and the whole shabang, I'll start a new blog just to document that journey. But no worries, this one's not going anywhere!