Inviting God In

We've been ready, not only emotionally but legally and officially, to adopt our second child for a long time now. Our paperwork was finished over 15 months ago, and we're still waiting.

An update from our adoption agency this month informed us that four families have been matched with babies in recent months. For all four families this will be their first child--the birthmothers who have been choosing adoption through our agency lately have wanted their children to go to families without any children yet. I can understand this, and I'm happy for those couples--I'm sure they are thrilled to finally become parents. But I can't help but think to myself, "Why didn't they pick us?"

Although with Isaac we only waited three months from the time our paperwork was finished to the time we were matched, we had been wanting and trying to have a child for three years. That was very difficult. But I'm starting to notice that this second round of waiting has been difficult too. Isaac has been a wonderful distraction, and even without such a distraction my brain tends to be late in catching on to what my heart is feeling. But I'm realizing now that my heart has been aching for a while.

Lots of my friends have had babies within the last few months and several more have shared news that they're pregnant. It's hard for me to fathom that for many couples, maybe for most couples, they simply decide to have a child and, within a year or so, they have one. I hope they don't take for granted what a miracle that is.

I know some families have waited many, many years for adoptions or pregnancies, and our wait has been relatively short. But I don't think comparing one's suffering to another's is helpful. Waiting is hard while you're in it, especially when you have no idea how long the wait will be.

For whatever reason, I'm just now realizing how sad I am because we're still waiting. The longer we wait, the more difficult it becomes to hope that we will someday have another child, and even less likely that we will ever have a third. I know God is not absent from this process, and I don't plan to wallow in my sadness. In my mind I can say that it's very likely that God will give us another child. But I still feel sad, and I don't want to ignore that. I'd rather invite God into it, and ask Him to meet me there.

Progress

We've had Isaac in early intervention programs for the last year and a half or so, because of developmental delays in several areas (gross motor, fine motor, communication, adaptive behaviors).

As his third birthday approaches, Help Me Grow is evaluating to see if he still qualifies for county/school district intervention programs once he is preschool age. Although the official evaluations haven't been completed, his therapists, teacher and school psychologist all feel that he is pretty much all caught up. The early intervention has done its job.

He has made remarkable progress in the last six months, even, and it's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't talking constantly--and not just echoing or making noises that sound like words, but actually communicating information. This morning he came upstairs by himself and we had this conversation:

Isaac: Bye-bye, Mommy!
Me: Where are you going Isaac?
Isaac: In back car wit Daddy!
Me: Where are you going in the black car?
Isaac: Home Depot, Mommy!

It's exciting to be able to truly communicate with him. And those exclamation points are not frivolous--most of his chatter is made with great enthusiasm.

Stories

I love mornings with Isaac. If he's had enough sleep he wakes up very happy and snuggly. We will often sit on the front porch or cuddle on the couch while he enjoys his bottle.

A few months ago Isaac said to me, "Tell tory, mama." So often I will make up a story to tell him. I'm really not good at making up stories--I even have a hard time thinking of a story I already know to retell. But Isaac isn't very picky. He often asks for the lawn mower story, which involves Daddy, a broken lawn mower and a screwdriver.

Recently, Isaac has made up his own story. It goes something like this: "Guy on teeying. Gall down. Guy knee hurts. Guy want mama tiss knee."

For those of you who don't speak Isaac, here's the translation: "There's a guy on the ceiling. He falls down. His knee hurts. He wants mama to kiss his knee."

Toddler Prayers

About four and a half years ago, we heard a message at church one Sunday about the persistent widow. At the time Mark and I were trying to get pregnant, and I felt the message of persistence in prayer applied directly to our situation. Our church at that time was inviting people up every Sunday after the service to be prayed for, so Mark and I decided that every time prayer was offered, we would take it.

At first we were asking for prayer to conceive, and eventually we started asking for prayer for the adoption process. Although we ended up leaving that church when Isaac was about 10 months old, it was a joy to share the process leading up to his birth and adoption with that community who had prayed with us so faithfully.

After leaving that church, we spent about a year wandering--not really finding a church to settle in. So when we got everything in place last summer for a second adoption, we didn't have a consistent community of people praying for us. At some point we remembered how wonderful it was to have people praying regularly for us while we waited for Isaac, and we decided, at the very least, we needed to start praying regularly as a family for God to bring us another child.

So each night at dinner, the three of us hold hands to thank God for our meal, and we ask God to bring a new baby into our family. Only a day or two after we started doing this, Isaac would start saying, "Baby, baby," every time we sat down at the dinner table. We would ask, "Would you like us to pray for a baby?" and he would say, "Yeah." When we prayed together at other times, he would often start saying "Baby, baby," during the prayer.

I'm not sure how much Isaac understands about what it means to pray for a baby. But I'm counting this as genuine prayer. Many of Isaac's friends are getting little brothers and sisters right now, and I think he's ready to be a big brother. Some day we'll be able to tell our second child how Big Brother Isaac prayed for them, even before we knew who they were.

School

In February, Isaac started a toddler pre-school program provided by the Cuyahoga County Board of Developmental Disabilities. His development is still delayed, although with the help of physical and occupational therapy, the gap is closing.

Two days a week a bus picks Isaac up and takes him to "school." For the first several weeks, he was very upset when the bus showed up. But the bus driver assured me that as soon as he was settled in his seat and the bus got around the corner, he was fine.

He can't really tell us much about what he does all day at school, but when we ask him about it he smiles and says "school" or "bus." I think that must mean he likes it.

You're Two!

Dear Isaac,

It seems like I wrote your one-year note just a few weeks ago. Has it really been a year?

You've changed so much in the last twelve months. But then, you're still the same joyful, thoughtful little person we've known since the beginning. Your smile lights up the whole world, and I don't think there is a person who has met you who hasn't been taken in by your utter cuteness. And it's not just the cheeks--you clearly love to be with people, and people love to be with you. You are a charmer.

We've learned that you do things in your own time. You observe and think about a new skill before you go out and do it. But once you start, whether it's walking or talking or eating with a spoon, you just take off.

You finally became a toddler in November, and since then you have hardly sat still. Being able to interact with your world in a new way has caused such growth. I still glimpse the baby in you from time to time, but you're more little boy than baby now.

You talk all. the. time. You learn new words every day. I am amazed at how well you listen. You've picked up on and repeated words from conversations going on around you when we had no idea you were paying attention. We're finally able to get a little idea of what is going on in that head of yours.

You entered into the "terrible twos" a few months before your second birthday, it seems. You can be exasperating at times, and have quite a temper. But within minutes you're flashing that smile of yours, and all is right with the world again. 

Your favorite toy right now is your tunnel, your best friend is Mr. Elephant (whom you've named Ahngi for some reason) and your arch nemesis is the vacuum cleaner. Several times a day you make sure that it is "away." You enjoy playing with "Cony" (Fiona), "Mony" (Reuben), "Téo" (Mathéo), and "EB" (Elizabeth). You'll start "school" next week, and I'm sure you'll make lots more friends there.

Your daddy and I are loving every minute of watching you grow up. You continue to bring us joy and laughter, just as your name promises. We love you so much.

Mommy