Seth's 3rd Birthday (3 months belated)

I was so overwhelmed with life when it was Seth's birthday that I never did blog, but I did write in my journal that day. I decided to revisit that day and post it.

It was Becca's birthday yesterday. Birthdays for adoptees are always very complex. A birthday is a reminder that you didn't start out with this family you have now, and that somewhere you have another family. I try to always take time on my adopted childrens' birthdays to acknowledge and honor their birth family. Alex's 14th birthday was sweet this year, because we've been able to reconnect with his Birth Mom and family. Yesterday as Becca and I were talking about her "China Birth Family" (I hope to share with you about Becca and how difficult this week has been for her) I felt I should go back and share my journal entry about Seth's China-Mommy here on the blog.

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Friday November 7^th, 2008

Today is our Seth’s birthday. He is 3 and it is his first birthday with us. I feel so much joy that we have him, that he is ours, for his zest for life, the way he’s thrown his arms wide open to embrace everything new that is thrown at him. But I also feel overwhelmed today with sadness for his birth family. They will never know his smile, his enthusiasm, and even more that they have no idea where he is, if he is warm, if he is safe, if he is even alive.

This morning I’ve been thinking about Siyuan’s birthmom. Who is she? Is she thinking of him as she goes through her day? Is she working in a factory making household items that may someday land in my home. Is she working the fields on a small family farm growing vegetable to sell in the market where she shops alone, childless, empty and aching. Has she given birth a again? Does she now have the perfect son, or has she settled for a daughter. Perhaps she is teaching a kindergarten class their first English words as her heart struggles with loss and regret, not knowing his English has surpassed hers.

I can’t begin to imagine the cruelty of a culture and political system where mother’s must choose, for the good of the family, to abandon their baby, because that baby had the misfortune to be born female, or with some other seeming imperfection. Usually babies are abandoned within a day of their birth, but my Siyuan was 5 days old before his mother found the strength to leave him, to walk away forever. I imagine her inner struggle, knowing that in this country, a son without a hand would never be allowed to work and could never support his aging parents, let alone care for a family of his own. But that didn’t mean she didn’t adore his round cheeks and thick black hair.

I feel angry at the injustice, at the prejudice, perhaps she does too. But nonetheless, she didn’t have choices, not any. All she could do was hold on to him, for one more day, and then another while her heart shattered, refusing to put itself back together. And then she wrapped him up and left him at an apartment complex. Was it hers, did she live there, did she watch from her kitchen window over the courtyard until a kind man took her son away? Did she watch that spot for days, wishing her Siyuan would somehow reappear, so she could snatch him up and take him home. Does she still walk past the spot on her way home from work and feel the emptiness of it?

I imagine the ‘not knowing’ is the worst. I picture her today wondering, “Where is my son? What does he look like now that he’s three? Does he have my eyes or my husbands face? Are people at the orphanage kind or cruel? Does anyone notice when he cries, or has he stopped crying altogether? Or was life so hard, without a hand and without a Mom that he gave up on life altogether?

Most Chinese find it difficult to imagine why a family would adopt a child with a disability like Siyuan’s. Everywhere we went in China people were shocked and perplexed as to why we would want him if he didn’t have a hand. I’m sure it has never crossed his China Mom’s mind, that anyone else would want this son that she wanted, but couldn’t keep. I wish she could peak at his life now. I wish she could see him riding in the jeep around the backyard with Gregory laughing with exultation. I wish she could see how six brothers and sisters delight in this little boy of hers, celebrating his every victory. I wish she would see him cradled in my arms, listening to a lullaby and stroking my cheek. I wish she knew how intelligent he is, imitating everyone, their movements, their speech, absorbing everything about his new life in America. I wish she could see how thrilled he is with the word ‘mine’ and to realize there are things in his life that belong to him, and him alone; His pajamas, his crocs which he must sleep and bathe with, his truck. When she wonders and worries if he’s warm as winter encroaches, I wish she could see him in his crib next to me, wearing his red striped feet pajamas, cuddled up with his flannel cowboy blanket fingering the edges as he drifts into a peaceful slumber. I wish she could see the pure thrill and enthusiasm he has to take a shower, letting the water him full force in the face while he laughs in delight. When she worries about how he’s faring without his hand, I wish she could hear his big brother Gregory tell his friends, “You gotta see Seth’s little arm. It’s RAD!” I wish she could see how uses it to eat, and build toys, and put on his favorite crocs. I wish she could see how I kiss that little arm a hundred times a day because it is so precious to me.

I am grateful to her, for my son. I wonder if his joy and wonder, and enthusiastic embracing of life came from her. I hope losing him, didn’t maim thatjoy in her. But his life, and his joy brings new life and joy to my life and into our family. Four months ago I met my Siyuan, nervous, not knowing who he was, how he’d accept us. But now he’s been mine, and I couldn’t bear to lose him. My life is richer, fuller, more joyful because he is part of it. And so today I honor and remember his China-Mom, and give thanks to God for bringing me my little Seth-Siyuan.

Looking Back...

(Seth with his beloved 'Crocs')

January 25^th, 2009

I can’t believe it’s been four months since I posted. We had finish work (doors, trim and shelves) done in our basement several months ago. In between managing my Seth-a-roo I’ve been trying to get everything painted, and kids moved out and then back into their rooms and closets. Thus, blogging has come to a halt. I must confess I miss it. There’s something therapeutic about writing and sharing.

(This picture above is my favorite of my painting projects. This was a cracked, dented, beat-to-heck dresser that belonged to Derek when he was a kid. Becca needed a dresser and of course wanted pink. I think it turned out quite remarkable)

Many of you have asked how Seth is doing. Seth is making remarkable progress. Sometimes the day to day keeping him regulated and having him test me wears me down and I feel discouraged. The first part of January was particularly discouraging. There’s a rough estimate thrown out by who-knows-who that children coming from China need about 2 months per every year old they are to adjust and settle into their new life. This estimate proved accurate for Becca. Even though I still see progress as she feels more secure, at six months, she was pretty attached and regulated. Life began to return to some normalcy.

When we adopted Seth I estimated his time at around six months and figured by January 1, 2009 he would be adjusted, settled and we’d be back to normal life. So when January 1^st rolled around and I could see we were no where near ready to turn Seth over to a ‘normal’ three year old lifestyle I felt pretty discouraged. 2009 loomed large and long, knowing I would have at least another year of helping Seth heal his heart and brain. My 50 yard Sprint, had evolved into a marathon of undetermined length. I had a few days of a personal pity party, cried some tears, and then put my running shoes back on.

On one of my ‘pity party’ days my sister, Julie, shared with me a story my Dad had shared with her.

I grew up in Murray Utah. Across the valley and straight East of where we lived was Mount Olympu. I had looked at it with awe many times. One summer, when I was a boy around 13 or 14 yeasr old I thought, “It would sure be cool to hike to the top of that mountain.” So I, along with 2 or 3 of my friends, hopped on our bikes and headed East on 62^nd South. It took a long time to cross the valley and get to the base of the mountain. We were hot and sweaty before we even parked our bikes and began to hike. We hiked and hiked, making our way through the brush. After an hour I could see the top of the mountain. “Wow, we’re almost there!”. We picked up our pace and pushed to the top. My legs felt like rubber as I came up over the top of the ridge. But we had not reached the top. I could now see five or six more ridge. The whole mountain still lay ahead of us. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I had failed in my quest. Then one of the other guys said, “Look!” I turned around and there was the whole Salt Lake valley layed out before us. I hadn’t been able to see it before for all the brush. When I saw how far we had come my discouragement, and sense of failure and frustration were chased away by the realization of “We did something amazing!”

This story inspired me to shift my vision. Rather than seeing the whole mountain looming ahead, and feeling my legs rubbery and ready to collapse, I look back and see how far we have come together, my Seth and I. We have both worked hard. When I look at it from that perspective, with the valley below, the distance we’ve come is amazing.

Six months ago Seth couldn’t bear to be touched. “Ow, ow” he would say when I tried to stroke his cheek or snuggle him on my lap. Eye contact was too hard, and he couldn’t bear more than a fleeting glimpse into my eyes. We’ve moved from pushing away at any contact, to rocking together, and just this week we’ve moved to ‘baby snuggles’ in bed. Tonight I cradled him again in the crook of my shoulder, and held him snuggled against my chest. His entire body was pressed against mine, cradled, close, intimate. For twenty minutes he looked into my eyes while I sang him silly songs and lullabies. I stroked his cheek and his hair and he kissed my eyes and my nose. Then for the first time ever he fell asleep in my arms. It was so sweet that I couldn't bear to put him in his crib and I fell asleep too. His heart is healing. How brave of him to let go of fear, and embrace love.

Six months ago Seth couldn’t sit still and focus on any activity. This week I pulled out some 25 piece puzzles. He can put them together faster than I can. We still have half the mountain to climb, but when I watch him build legos, and play “people house’ with Becca, I’m amazed.

Six months ago, he didn’t trust anyone but himself to meet his needs. He’s gone from greedily eating whatever we gave him, to actually being picky and refusing food. He’s learned to trust that we will always have food. Being choosy about his food is now a luxury he feels he can afford.

At first he didn’t notice or care if Mom was even there. He’s learned over these six months that, “Mama always comes back” and he’s glad about that.

He’s learned what it means to belong to a family. Tonight we sang our ritual, “I love Daddy he loves me, We love Mommy yes siree, We all love Seth and so you see, We are a Happy Family.” We progress through each family member until we’ve covered his family. “Seth’s family” he loves to say over and over again. He’s learned the joy of being adored and spoiled by grandparents. He is becoming connected and it feels good to his heart.

A child cannot trust someone they can control. If a child believes he is stronger than the adult, then he cannot trust the adult to keep him safe. So children must test to see who is stronger. A normal child will test a limit 17 times, a stubborn child, maybe 47 times. But a wounded child like Seth must test the limit 147 times, often more. But he’s slowly learning that Mom and Dad are stronger and more powerful than he is. We are the boss, we are in control, and his limits are not going to change, no matter how he wears us down with his manipulation, or persistence. He is beginning to feel safe. He is beginning to let go a little bit of his control. We’ve made it to the first ridge. The rest of the mountain looks daunting, but we will press forward. His will and determination is strong, he is a survivor, but he is learning that we will always be stronger than him, therefore, we have the ability to keep him safe.

I think our biggest challenge with Seth right now is healing his brain. When a child lives in an impoverished environment such as an orphanage, and when their needs aren’t met, their brain kicks into survival mode. The base of the brain is where our most primal survival responses are executed. These are usually manifest into fight, flight or freeze mode. If we were to look at a scan of the activity in Seth’s brain when we first adopted him, the majority of the activity would be located in this primal, survival part of the brain. His brain spent so much time in this part, that most of his neuro-pathways have been wired in that primal part of the brain. A brain scan of an emotionally healthy child shows most of their brain activity occurring in the frontal lobes. Luckily, brains can be healed, neuro-pathways forged. Our goal is to shift more of Seth’s brain activity into the frontal, problem solving, higher reasoning areas of the brain. We are actually working to rewire his brain, creating new neuro-pathways into the frontal lobes.

With the therapeutic process we’re using he must first learn to self-regulate and stay in a designated, defined area. He has an area in my kitchen, marked by blue tape about 4x6 feet. He also has a blanket I put in the family room that he has to stay on. We’ve been working to help him stay and play in his ‘box’ for 20-30 minute segments of time.

After Christmas I was struggling to get him to stay in his area. He would get off, and I would walk him back on. If he repeated leaving the area then I’d hold him until he was ready to stay. Then we’d try again, and again and again. I became frustrated, unable to get anything done. One morning my sister Julie, seeing how Seth was testing, testing, testing came over ready to work. “Let’s go get some lumber and build Seth a box he can’t get out of.” She was so generous and wanting to help. But the point is not containment, he purpose is for him to learn to regulate himself. External limits and controls are only temporary. He has to move out of fight/flight mode and learn self-control and self-regulation. He’s learning. He’s doing much better at staying in his confined space.

The reason the confined space is important is because it cuts down on too much external stimulus. If his brain has too much stimulus he’s having to worry about controlling everything around him. He’s in that primal part of his brain and his brain can’t shift to the higher frontal lobes. On the blanket or in his box he can let go of that and focus on his activities. The activities we’re having him do are ones that will create new neuro-pathways in those logic and reasoning parts of the brains. And what therapeutic activities would those be? Building toys play a big part. He plays blocks, legso, Lincoln logs, tinker toys, K-nex & Gears. He also plays playdough, strings beads and does puzzles. All of these require higher brain function and problem solving. As he does these activities he is more calm, accepting of limits, and doesn’t need to control everything around him. His play is working new pathways into his brain. Six months ago he struggled to do peg puzzles. Now he can whip out a 25 piece puzzle like you can’t believe. New pathways are being created. Looking back it’s hard to believe how hard he’s worked and how much his brain is healing. Much of the therapeutic parenting I do for Seth is beneficial to building healthy brains in all children.

And, as I think I mentioned before, all these limits have to be maintained with loving eyes and voice. Anger, frustration drives the brain back into fight/flight mode. This is hard, because I can be a screamer Mom. I wish I had learned all this seven kids ago, it really is a great way to parent.

Here is a couple of pictures of Seth. Jumping on the tramp is a great activity to help get the brain moving out of the back part and into the frontal lobes. Another activity is what’s called, “Strong Sitting”. It’s a meditative pose used in various religions. It actually opens up the spine and stimulates the limbic (feel good) part of the brain. In this picture Seth was a bit resistant to ‘strong sitting’ so Becca was ‘teaching’ him how to do it.

So that is definitely the long version of how Seth is doing. We are both doing well. He is growing more and more attached. He is sweet and loving, and fun loving with a laugh that makes all the work worth it. I' m so grateful to my mentor and friend Melissa, who buoys me up and has taught me so much. And mostly I'm grateful to my Heavenly Father who has 'given me strength beyond my own." I know he knows me. I knows he knows Seth. He loves us both and is giving us the courage and strength to make this journey together. We know there is still a long hike ahead, but when we look back, we realize the view from up here is amazing!

Together Forever!

Saturday was one of those days that we will never forget. We are of the LDS faith and we believe that families can be together forever, even after death. We have a special ceremony that we hold in our temples that symbolically binds us together as a family. We call it a 'sealing'. We are sealed or joined together. This Saturday our family went together to a temple near our home and Seth was sealed, joined into our family forever.

We all wear white as a symbol of heaven and of purity. I felt so much joy to have all of my children gathered together. We had friends and family who came to share in our celebratory moment. I hope you love my pictures of my children as much as I do!

Joy in the Journey

A couple of weeks ago we went on a trip to Southern Utah. My Dad is a writer and he’s preparing to write a story about a pioneer expedition that left from West Central Utah and crossed through to South Eastern Utah to settle the Four Corners Area. One of the dramatic places they had to cross is a place called Hole in the Rock where they had to drop their wagons down steep cliffs to the Colorado River bottom below. Now that River has been dammed up to make Lake Powell, (pictures 4 & 5 show the upper descent of the Hole in the Rock. Two thirds of the descent to the Colorado river is under water). Because of this particular spot the pioneers are often referred to as the "Hole in the Rock expedition"

My Dad covered the Eastern part of the trail (Lake Powell East) with older family members earlier this summer while we were in China so we missed that great experience. But he wanted to cover the first part, the trail West of Lake Powell. He thought it would be fun to take the grandkids that live in Utah along while he did his research (Does that tell you how amazing my parents are that they thought it would be 'fun' to bring along 15 kids!)

We had a marvelous trip, that was fun and inspiring. I thought I’d share a few of the photos.

This group of pioneers left in November and were told to prepare for six weeks, but that the trip would most likely only take 3. It ended up taking six months. The land was far less passable than they had thought. One fourth of their group were children under the age of six.

When they arrived at 40 mile springs on the West Side of the Colorado River they sent scouts to

survey the descent to the Colorado and then the terrain from there East. They returned with the news it was much more difficult than they thought and they would not come close to finishing their journey in six weeks, let alone three. They were cold, they were discouraged, turning back wasn’t very viable and going forward was beyond daunting. They had to camp for weeks at 40 mile springs while a 'road crew' of men blasted out the "Hole in the Rock" walls a bit more so they could lower their wagons down, by ropes, to the Colorado River. Yet, and this is the part that I found inspiring, they compartmentalized that fear and discouragement and set it aside to find the joy. A short distance from where they were camped was a big red rock outcropping. (The first picture) They named it “Dance Hall Rock” and came up many nights and danced. We too danced to honor them, and imprint in our hearts the importance to take time to enjoy, even when life is hard.

On our way home, each family went their own way. Mine did a magnificent hike to a place called Calf Creek Falls. Those are the last pictures shown. We sure had fun.

Becca was at first distressed to learn that she no longer got to ride on Dad's back in the pack. (She's still got Princess syndrome) That was now Seth's place of honor. It was a six mile hike. After 1 mile she stubbornly refused to walk anymore. She cried and whined. We had way too far to carry her. I put her in front and made her our new hiking leader. She remained the hiking leader for most of the rest of our hike, and she found enough good attitude that she walked five of those six miles, and even cheerfully! Way to toughen up Princess! Maybe she'll learn to survive outside the castle after all.

It was a beautiful hike. How we love Southern Utah with it's red rock cliffs! It was Seth's first outing, and he did quite well. This little boy just loves life. He was thrilled with everything from the car ride, to eating out, to our hikes. He just throws his heart and his arms wide open to take life and all its wonders in. What a shame it would have been for a child who has such a zest for living to have spent his life shut up within the limited life of an orphanage. Seeing his joy and enthusiasm helps us all find more joy in the journey.

A Magical Moment

I just had to share these pictures. My coach with Seth is my friend Melissa. Her daughter Annie came from China with Reactive Attachment Disorder. She has spent the past year and a half devoting her life to healing this little girl. She'd had some big miracles the week before this and Annie's heart is letting go of so much of the hurt and trauma from her days in the orphanage. (Thanks to my amazing sister Lori.)

Melissa comes over several times a week and teaches me how to help Seth. She cheers our victories and buoys me up on days when I feel discouraged. She has learned so much, and she teaches me, coaches me and helps me keep going. We're running a marathon.

We took a break from working with Seth and let the kids be kids in my backyard. It was one of those magical moments filled with giggles and the true joy of childhood. All three of these kids have had so many losses in their life. They have all shown courage to open their wounded, neglected hearts and let their new families love them. And most of all they find the courage to find joy!