Opinion Poll

Someone asked on Facebook what the kids thought about the new baby. Overall, the baby is awfully removed from the here and now. These are kids who are used to being told a day or two in advance of a new sibling's arrival. Seven months is an eternity away. A lady at church asked K what he thought, and he just shrugged and played it cool. "What is one more?" was his response. But at home, he has said that it WILL be a girl, and insists that everyone refer to the baby in the feminine form. He is quite anxious to hold the pattern, and is more than a little concerned over twins--which would push us over to an odd number. Abby is a mixed bag about this baby. She was ecstatic when we told her we were getting a new baby, wanting to know if she could please have it, since her baby (Cara) doesn't really need her anymore. But she was totally turned off when she realized I was actually carrying this sibling. Seems last fall's "Where Baby's Come From" conversation has her grossed out. Mom and Dad are STILL doing that??!! She will not use the term 'pregnant' and cringes when I do. But we passed a rack of cute baby dresses Saturday and she exclaimed, "Oh I hope our new baby is a girl." Me: I'm kinda hoping that myself. Abby: But, Mom? If it's not, let's not tell him he was a disappointment, ok? Me:Deal. That kid cracks me up. Ian and Marina haven't said much on the subject. We gave Levi to Marina, and she is still in the throws of his responsibility. I don't look for her to be hankering for another any time soon. Randy is well pleased. He is already coming up to pat my belly and give the baby kisses, but he is very confused, poor kid. Being the last baby to join the family by birth, he had no idea that babies came any other way than through adoption. Now the kid KNOWS adoption talk. He still has me chuckling over last week's question, "Do you know who the birthdaddy is?" Cara doesn't understand birth or adoption. For all she knows, the stork brings them, so I will be getting out and dusting off some of our "new baby" children's books. The problem is that all of them make some reference to the "fact" that they were once a baby in their mommy's womb. Which Cara wasn't, and I think through this pregnancy Cara will realize that. With Marina, it seemed like we talked adoption non-stop. With Cara we haven't talked it at all. When Levi arrived, she wasn't curious about where he came from, just happy to have someone smaller than her in the house to boss. But this time around, she will have more understanding, and will want to know, "Was I in your belly?" So this will be interesting.

Levi Turns One

One year ago today, we drove like mad to Houston to meet our new son. One year ago, I suited up in a NICU and walked around a hospital corner to see him for the first time--not tiny and weak as Cara had been--but rosy round and giving the nurses whatfor. I kept having to pinch myself, because the whole ordeal had a dreamlike quality about it. I remember thinking, "This doesn't happen in real life."
We had a pretty simple celebration. Just family over after church for lunch and cake. I made a Cookie Monster cake and a smash cake for Levi, which he thoroughly enjoyed. His expression seemed to say, "Now, THIS is what I have been waitin' for my whole life!" I love my little man.
We did not hear from his birthmother. I hoped today above all days that she would call.

And Baby Makes 10

Facebook followers heard the news on Monday. I'm pregnant. Highly unlikely, insane, but true. Speaking of insane, my hormone surge that was a result of this pregnancy, felt very much as if I was headed straight for the closest mental health facility. My emotions were so out of control two weeks ago, that I bought a home pregnancy test, desperate to get my period started so the worst case of PMS "crazies" EVER would go away. In my mind, if I took the test, then my brain would go ahead and let me start. I was about to throw my "negative" test in the trash and begin my little body pep talk, "You see, there is absolutely no reason for you to feel this way...," when I saw an unmistakable + appear in the test window.
VERY long story short, I am pregnant. Sonogram (not this past Monday, but the Monday before, showed a "yolk sac" (which terminology makes me feel very much like a chicken) in the uterus, not in the tubes (there is a far greater risk of ectopic pregnancy in women with prior tubal ligations).
I am still rather stunned, and it all has a somewhat surreal quality about it--telling, typing, thinking about it. Announcing to the world hasn't changed that. Last year at this time, I felt a very strong urge for another child, and when God gave us Levi (also unexpectedly), I just knew the Lord gave me that desire to ready my heart for the gift. Now, He is giving my nine months to get ready for this gift.
I don't yet feel pregnant. Or maybe it has been so long that I've forgotten what it feels like? Randy will be six in two weeks. I still look down at every trip to the bathroom, and expect to see that I've started. I pretty much feel as I do the day before my period every month: a trifle dizzy, a little tender, and bloated. Well, maybe the last symptom IS over the top, because my abdomen is rock hard, sticking out, and I can't suck it in for anything! If I didn't have a perfectly good explanation, I would be rushing off to the doctor.
People have asked me if I'm happy. I'm not happy. I'm not sad. I'm mostly just relieved to know I'm not going nuts. Otherwise, I'm numb. It is not that I was opposed to more children. I had a feeling that at some point, I would want to even thing up. But I just never expected to do it in this way. I know by the time the baby arrives, no, by the time I feel her stir within me, I will love her and be ecstatic. It is just going to take some getting used to

Simple Woman's Day Book

Outside My Window...An especially mild winter rolls on.  For the last two years, we have had snow in February.  Don't think that is going to happen this winter.   

I am thinking...about something I can't blog about...

I am thankful for...the visit with Danee this week.  Whatever happens, we had one more opportunity to set Levi in her lap, take lots of pictures, and stow away a few more memories of her.

I am wearing... Oh, my, you would know that I pulled out the scrub pants for the first time since turning in my daycare keys today, and now I am being caught by the blog in my slovenliness.  Laundry day is tomorrow, and then I shall have some blue jeans to wear. 

I am remembering...what life was like when I ran the daycare.  Not because I am wearing my old uniform, but because I reconciled the daycare books today for taxes.  Filling in those records took me back to the days of shopping, planning, payroll, and purchases of a 50+ center.  Small wonder I was stressed out!  I actually shuddered several times as I made my way down the pages.

I am going...to be spending some quality time in various doctors' offices this week.  Levi and K both have appointments on Wednesday.  Thursday we go to Dallas for the master's hip consult (He is looking at having his hip and knee replaced.  He's going to end up like the bionic man.)   After the appointment, we'd like to go by Texas Children's and get a feel for the office there.  The trips to Houston are really beginning to wear on us.

I am currently reading...The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands by Dr. Laura Sleshinger

I am hoping...that we like the Dallas office.

On my mind...the whole ordeal with the master's state exam.

Noticing that...I lose weight first and foremost in my breast.  The one place I DO NOT need to lose weight!

Pondering these words... "The Old Testament was a testament of prosperity; the New Testament is a testament of adversity." --Charles Spurgeon

From the kitchen...venison tacos have done been cleaned up.

Around the house...Children are finishing up their Bible reading with Dad.  The story of Jacob and his many wives--Abby and K are beet red and asking the master if the can PLEEEEAASE skip this chapter?!!  There is quite a bit in Genesis that is a little awkward for family alter time, ya know.

From my picture journal: Going to have to pass on that. *sigh*

Oh, The Places You'll Go

Does anyone know how to get pictures from facebook up on your blog?  I feel bereft without photos of my family making periodic appearances here.
Things are at an odd place.  Odd for many reasons.  Unsettling.  I'm considering opening up a private blog to unload some of those.  But then I wonder if I should "unload?"  Is that just a handy veneer for "complain?"  A thing I'm commanded not to do?  Anyway, opening up my blog and seeing my beautiful children's faces always was grounding, fortifying for me.  Seeing as financial relief is nowhere in sight, we will not be purchasing a new home computer in the foreseeable future, so I will be on this laptop.  I'm getting better at maneuvering on this thing, but still can't figure out the pictures.  There must be a way.
Back to the financial part.  The master did not pass his state board exams.  At least we are 90% sure he did not.  That means that his salary will not double at the end of this month as it would have had he passed.  From a purely human standpoint, we NEEDED his salary to double.  I don't see a way out of this place we are at, but I will keep looking.
We were called to Houston, Friday.  Levi's birthmother was very ill.  Actually, we feared she might die.  We had not had any contact from her since before Christmas.  Our cards were returned with the note, "No such person at this address," and our text went unanswered.  We feared, like so many open adoption placements, our contact with her had fizzled out.  On Wednesday morning early, Levi stood for the first time.  My first impulse was to grab the phone and text her.  But there was nowhere to send my text.  I got  the kids dressed and went out to do my shopping.  It was a cold, wet morning.  And she was weighing heavy on my heart.  Did she have shelter?  Was she fed?  She should know that he stood up today.  It is something I know she would want to know. Where was she?
I came home from the trip to find an email from our agency.  God was about to answer all of my questions.  She was in a hospital, well fed, but sick.  Of course, I wanted to come see her, but agency didn't know if she would be open to our seeing her that way.  When they mentioned our offer to visit she broke down crying, saying that she had been praying that God would send us to see her. She is better now.  Maybe out of the hospital.  We don't know.  She doesn't have a phone right now.  She was overjoyed to see Levi--that he was strong and healthy.  She picked my brain about him.  There was a man there in the room with her.  Her new "boyfriend."  (Pimp?) A Latino gangster.  Of course, he didn't introduce himself that way, but that's what he was.  Exactly like the one who tried to have her killed nine months ago, and the hired hit man who left her badly beaten instead of dead.  An attack which caused ongoing infections (that still might claim her life) and precipitated the birth of my son.  Why?  Why doesn't she get out?  Why doesn't she stop the cycle?  I want Levi to know her.  She is so sweet and optimistic; I can't help but wonder how she came to the place she is.  Doubtful that I will ever be close enough to her to ask.  Oh, Lord, I'm sick with worry for her.
On a lighter note: Never thought I'd be sitting in a hospital room with my husband, my son, his birthmother and a gang banger having a pleasant conversation as if it was the most normal thing in the world.  And I bet they never thought they'd be doing the same with a Baptist pastor and his wife.  Makes me smile to think of it.

Levi, Marina, and Jesus

I just got off the phone with the legal assistant in Houston. We will, most likely, finalize on Levi's adoption on February the 24th.  I'm excited to get that lose end tied up. But strangely, another adoption is weighing heavy on my mind and heart today.
 Marina's adoption into the Kingdom.  These days, Marina is the first person I see when I wake.  After many months of power struggle over her hair and the grooming thereof--which brought her perilously close to a second butch cut--she has submitted to my arrangement of her do's.  It crossed my mind that in three short months she will be eight years old.  Wow!  That shocks me.  How can she be that old?  This is the age I start to look for the signs.  The signs that God is knocking at their heart's door, the signs that they are listening, that they are beginning to see their need of a Savior.  Sometimes, they show themselves in their artwork--stick-figure drawings of Jesus on the cross or a love letter to God.  Sometimes, it is questions from the back seat about last week's Sunday School Lesson, or a face of rapt attention during service.  Signs that I haven't seen in Marina in the smallest degree.
And so, I pray.  'When you can't trace His hand, trust His heart,' right?  I pray that I will be ready to council her, maybe answer questions that she will never ask out loud. Perhaps ask some of my own.  She's been taught the Truth from infancy on, but she's characterized by stubbornly clinging to fantasies in total contradiction to what she had been told, and wouldn't Satan love to spread some lies in her heart and watch them take root?  From a child that never did anything by the book, I shouldn't look for the normal indicators.  In the words of the Russian caregiver on the day we took her from the orphanage, "That Olga....she goes her own way." Parenting her for seven years, I can Amen that statement.  She goes her own way, in her own time, with her own little way of walkin' it.
But, ultimately, for peace, love, joy and life, her way must become His way.

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