A Choice?

Last December, when Chris and I told the kids about Alina and her need for a home, they were shocked that her parents were willing to "give her away"--in particular because they are aware of the stereotypes about Down syndrome and how Bridget defies them.

Chris and I did not truly understand, until we traveled, that people with disabilities do not have a place in the world in Eastern Europe. Scratch that. They do have a place--and unfortunately, it is behind a closed door. There is no support for parents wanting to raise children with special needs, and society does not condone raising them in public.

I am not making a value judgment. Twenty-five years ago, it was the same situation in the United States.

When we had court, we heard details about Alina's parents--their names, their address--that they were married when she was born and that they are still together. We saw their signatures on the abandonment decree they signed in the presence of a notary when Alina was two months old (per Ukrainian law--they had left her at the hospital when she was two days old, but waited until the last minute to sign, after blood tests came back confirming that she did have Down syndrome).

I sobbed in the quiet of the court room as we heard details about them.

Alina's full name was absolutely beautiful. Her middle name was the female version of her dad's name.

Her parents were both in their mid-twenties when they had her, and her mom had two miscarriages before Alina was born (full term, weighing about 7 lbs and measuring 22 inches).

They wanted her. They did. We are sure of it. I should clarify. We are sure they wanted her before they knew she had Down syndrome. We have no idea how they felt when they found out--but it meant that they could not keep the baby they had wanted--and we can guess that they were devastated.

We ache for them. As a mom, I can only imagine the pain her birth mom feels having her gone. Even if she was able to rationalize the decision to release Alina for adoption, and even if she would never want to raise a child with Ds, her mom has to feel the physical absence of her daughter.

And she has to wonder what happened to her little girl.

We look at Alina and we see a child who is so worthy of love, who would have surprised and elated her parents on a daily basis. We see a little girl who would have made a great big sister, a great daughter, a great grand-daughter.

We have to assume that her mom and dad would have been as blown away with her as we are...

Making a Difference

The Starfish Story

adapted from The Star Thrower
by Loren Eiseley (1907-1977)

Loren Eiseley was an anthropologist who wrote extensively. This story has appeared all over the web in various forms, usually without credit given. Sometimes it is a little girl throwing the starfish into the ocean, sometimes a young man, once even an elderly Indian. In any form, it is a beautiful story and one that resonates with people all over the world.

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."

Our Little Blondie...

...needs us. Soon. Look at this sweet little face. We are lucky to have a new picture of Alina. Her head is still shaved, but from the little bit that has grown out, it appears she is a blonde...something new for our family :).

Pictures of orphans are functional in nature, for the purposes of documentation. I can't wait to photograph her through a parent's loving eyes, taking care to capture an expression that reveals a little bit about who she is. (I hope she doesn't mind having her picture taken, because I am sure it will be like having the paparazzi over here when she comes home.)

Right now, Alina is an orphan, with nothing of her own--no family of her own, dressed in someone's old clothes. She hasn't known what it means to be able to trust that someone will always be there for her. She hasn't known what it means to be valued as an individual. It breaks my heart to see that in this picture, even though we already knew it.

We cannot wait to hold her and love her and tell her she's finally home. We cannot wait to get her into our arms and begin to restore her to the child she should always have been.

We are ready to begin our new journey. I hope she is ready for us :)...

Happy Birthday Alina! We're coming for you soon...

Blink

It is amazing how much a person can process in the blink of an eye. When we react quickly to something, we often say we are acting on instinct. We also use the word intuition. But it's more than that.

When you blink something, your subconscious mind assesses, calculates and concludes something, and then alerts your conscious mind to a decision--thoughts, emotion, knowledge and experience all come together to give you direction, or to give you an answer.

We've been asked how we came so quickly to the decision to adopt Alina.

Did we fall in love at first sight? What was it about her that tugged so strongly at our hearts? Did we thoroughly discuss all aspects of adding another child to our family before committing to adopt her? Did we mull over the pros and cons of international adoption? Did we consider what impact adopting another child with special needs would have on our family, and on our other children?

I knew as soon as I saw her sweet little face that we were going to be Alina's forever family. I couldn't imagine having her ornament on our Christmas tree each year, always wondering if she was healthy, or warm, or smiling, or feeling loved. Chris was drawn to her, too. But the short and most complete answer to the question of how we arrived at our decision: we blinked it.

Without sorting out each issue individually, Chris and I both synthesized a large amount of information in a very short period of time. We knew our hearts--and our instincts--were telling us to bring Alina home to us. Luckily, we came to the same conclusion and neither of us felt the need to consider our options for an extended period of time. We both knew that the blink was right.

We have talked since about all of the things which we both knew when we decided that we would be Alina's yes.

Her picture--the only one we have of her, still:

The version on the left is what we saw on Reece's Rainbow. It is not a good picture, quality or otherwise. Alina's expression is blank, her head is shaved and her little lips are really chapped. But through that picture, we both saw a diamond in the rough. We took that picture and mentally dusted it off. And what we saw beneath was a beautiful, amazing and able little girl.

It was an absolute blessing that the picture looked yellowed and grainy. It made us stop and notice her.

This little girl needs a family and she will be overlooked because of this picture, was all I could think when I first saw it, so I went to work right away on color correcting and lightly editing the photo (version #2, on the right).

Chris and I were looking at a picture of a little girl who is considered "severely disabled" in her society simply because she has Down syndrome, and we know that she was most likely abandoned because of that diagnosis. We both saw so much potential in Alina and know that she deserves opportunity and happiness as much as anyone else. We have the desire and ability to offer her the chance to pursue her dreams.

We have no idea what she is able to do at this point in her life, and it really doesn't matter how independent she is, or how she is limited. We aren't looking at her thinking, What can she do for us? We're focused on what we can do for her. We know she will add her own light to our group and enrich us all in ways we could never imagine. Love adds--it never takes away. We both firmly believe that.

We have a first-hand example--in Bridget--and know that people with Down syndrome have many abilities. Alina is sure to have her own set of challenges and skills. We all do.

Alina is just a little bit younger than Bridget. We have researched therapies, medical care, financial planning, education, nutrition, etc. for Bridget and have already found our way through many aspects of having a child with Down syndrome.

We have a wonderful pediatrician and school system. We are surrounded with people who care about our family and who believe in us--and in our commitment to living a life filled with love.

We already have a house full. What is one more :)? And we already have a child with Ds. That's no big deal for us.

We have the benefit of knowing that having Bridget as a sibling has only enhanced the lives of our other children. They adore her. They all quickly agreed that Alina would be welcome and well-loved here, with us.

In the blink of an eye, all of these things came to mind. We knew right away that we we're taking a gigantic leap of faith.

We know now that it is also a giant leap of love.

A Leap of Faith

Having a child is always a leap of faith. We never really know what the future holds for any of our children, whether they are our biological children or adopted children. We can't plan for future diagnoses, illnesses, accidents, surgeries, and so on. We also can't plan for the untold joys and rewards of knowing, loving or raising any child.

Granted, there are some things we can do to reduce our risk of heartache, but the reality is that we either live in constant fear and uncertainty of the unknown and unwanted, or we can choose to live in peace, understanding that there is good in every person and every circumstance--even when we might not first see it there.

We have not yet met Alina, and we have been asked a few times whether we think this process is worth the risk. Chris and I both feel that she is absolutely worth the risk. We are not just offering Alina a life with a loving family, we are saving her life. We are not concerned about facing uncertainty and don't fear hardship in bringing her into our family. We don't need to know all the details of the future to know that every person has worth and much to offer--and that we are absolutely prepared to care for Alina and to welcome her as our own.

What we do know is that Alina is almost three years old and has Down syndrome. We know she was most likely abandoned because of her diagnosis. We know very little else about her. We have just the one picture we first saw on Reece's Rainbow (RR), where her head has been shaved and her sweet little face shows no expression.

We don't know details about her parents yet, or why they chose to give her up. We don’t know anything about her personality or habits, or what condition we’ll find her in when we arrive in her country in a few months.

We are hoping for the best, but are preparing for every possible scenario.

We know that Alina needs the love, comfort and security of a family. We know that she will need good medical care and good nutrition when she comes home. She will most likely also need extra developmental support.

We know that she should be somewhere where her hair is never again shaved for convenience. We know that she deserves opportunities, and that she should be smiling, and laughing, and safe in the arms of her family.

We realize that we will be meeting Alina in her “raw” form—without having had the benefit of a loving home, early intervention, good nutrition, etc., and that her potential is huge.

We have loved learning about Bridget and getting to experience life through a "different" lens. Her Ds diagnosis means that some things are unique to her because of that diagnosis, but parenting Bridget is very much like raising any of our other children.

When we found RR and saw all of the children who have been abandoned because of a diagnosis of Down syndrome, our hearts broke. We see so much potential in ALL of these children. Knowing what we know now (through Bridget) we see diamonds in the rough in every little face on RR.

We are not expecting that Alina will be just like Bridget. We really have no idea how healthy she will be, what her personality is like, or what she will be able to do. As is true with life in general, there are no guarantees for us in the adoption process.

And while we don't know what we will find when we finally get to meet Alina, we do know that while others may sell her short because she has Down syndrome, we will not. She is a human being with dignity and worth. She deserves to have the same opportunities and care as anyone else--and we plan to offer her the world.

Where There is Light, There is Love

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And where there is darkness, there is also light.

There need only be a tiny sliver of an opening

for the light to enter and envelop all in its path.

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