Celebrating Sleep

Wowzers. My last post elicited a ton of responses. I am comforted to have received a slew of supportive emails from mothers, many of whom I have never met. Apparently, adoptive parents and parents of children with attachment needs alike have experienced the same sleep bucking I described; and the emotional crazies that result from it are completely normal. Whew. So I’m not nuts. Many of you wrote to me, expressing how alone you felt when your child reacted this angrily and erratically to sleep and how over stimulation seemed to be at the root as well. I am glad that we are not alone and I commend these mammas for sticking through the crazies. Thank you all sincerely for your kind words and sharing your personal experiences with me.

What I have learned from this past week is that a lot of people want to know “why” our children are reacting as they are and want simple answers to explain it (well—maybe she’s cold, maybe her ears hurt again, maybe…). But we parents don’t really need answers to do what is right. As a new parent all I can say is that I have NO IDEA exactly which terrible variable (or combination thereof) is affecting her at the moment, but what I do know is that Noemi needs a calm mommy who gives her consistent, loving reactions. And that is exactly what I have been trying to do.

The last two days have been our best yet. Yikes--I hope I am not jinxing myself. Friday was good, but yesterday and today were rock-steady. I have had a happy, well- rested kid who took two one-and-a-half hour naps each day and smiled throughout the rest of the day. Yes, she still needed a lot of help falling asleep and woke repeatedly throughout the night, but those wakings consisted of crying and some punchy silliness thrown in-- not thrashing, hitting and screaming. I found myself enjoying the time spent lulling Noemi back to sleep last night from 2:50-4:40. She (eventually) calmly fell asleep on me in the rocking chair and it felt like sweet, loving success. Was I wiped? No doubt. But it was a satisfied tired, an I just connected with my daughter in a really good way tired. I’ll take that.

Giggles & Grunts: Life With the Girlie

Little Miss Crabbypants, looking innocent.

Many of you have contacted me expressing how you enjoy reading our story so much because it is honest. I’ve not sugar-coated the adoption experience as so many people want to do (and for some, I suppose, it is all sugary). But for us, and so many of you reading this blog, it’s been a series of ups and downs (oh my gosh--it has been crazy, hasn't it??). It is important to celebrate the ups, and yet I believe it is helpful to inform others of the downs so there is empathy and understanding for those of us on this wild ride and preparation for those embarking on it.

Since we have been home it has been a bit shaky with the girlie. Believe me, I want nothing more than to tell you that everything is wonderful. And it is much of the time. Noemi has a smile and giggle that lets the sunshine in. But the reality is that our small fry has had a difficult time adjusting to her new life (how could she not?).

Let me be clear: This is exactly where I want to be right now. Home, bonding with my daughter. I cherish sniffing flowers in the backyard with her, making silly faces together in the mirror and watching her enthusiastically try to eat bubbles during her bath. She is a strong, funny, engaging and curious little girl. I believe that her process of attaching to us and adapting to her new life is running a very typical course full of joys and fun, but that does not negate the challenges.

This girl knows that she's a looker alright.

Noemi, checking out Daddy's sweet equipment as he plays "photo shoot" in the mirror.

The first few days home we were sick and barely noticed that things were going smoothly. Noemi appeared very stoic and sweet. She allowed anyone to hold her and she was very inquisitive, making great eye contact and cute babbles. People thought this was adorable (and it was) and felt that she was doing “great.” What I have come to realize is that I think she was in a bit of shock during that time. I became aware that I was not seeing spontaneous smiling from her and that she was often expressionless after friends and family left our house. Sure—if I tickled her she would smile, but I had to earn her affections. She screamed anytime I changed her or attempted to put lotion on her. This is all par for the course, and something I fully expected would take time for any newly adopted child. But any mother wants to feel as if her child responds to her touch and enjoys being with her. So I knew we had a breakthrough when I walked into her room in the morning last week and she smiled at me in the crib. Since then she has been increasingly spontaneously smiley and is now seeking reactions from me. She now lets me put lotion on her with only a half smile/ half whimper and laughs when I smother her with kisses and zerberts on her adorably big belly.

Noemi's first taste of mango. Mmmmmmmmm...

What I did not expect was the extent of Noemi’s struggle with self-regulation. Noemi is waking throughout the night numerous times, often staying awake for hours. At first we thought it was just because she had been so sick, but now we know it is more than that. For those of you chuckling and thinking to yourself welcome to motherhood, please know that this is not helpful. You see—this is the place where many have jumped to conclusions and laughed, assuming that I did not know what I was getting myself into when I became a mommy or that all children are “fussy” through the night. If I get one more condescending pat on the back I might offer up Noemi for a sleep over. I think I had pretty realistic expectations of having a baby. It’s not the waking that is so hard—it’s the physical and emotional exhaustion of her relentless screaming, pushing away, spitting and being completely inconsolable. She’ll be almost sound asleep and then she will wake herself up by getting “punchy.” She’ll start playfully slapping my face, hitting her own head or makings silly noises and jolting herself. At this point, she begins her routine of bucking bedtime. Her eyes are closing from exhaustion, but she thrashes about in a fit of over-stimulated, disregulated rage. This is happening throughout the night and almost each time I attempt to put her down for a nap. She is napping maybe an average of 45 minutes in the AM and, maybe, if she goes down at all, 45 minutes in the afternoon. She’ll often wake up 15 minutes after being put down and I have to start all over again. Despite sticking to a calming routing, being very conscious of recommendations made by those in the field of attachment and being on lockdown this past week at home so that I can focus solely on this, it only seems to be getting worse. Which, though counterintuitive, may mean that it is getting better? One can hope.

I found some research that helped me understand—and after reading it I thought it sounded just like Noemi. It explained that children coming from orphanages often have fewer synapses formed in the brain due to lack of stimulation. When they come home to a stimulating environment, their brains begin making new connections at a rapid pace. This literally puts their little brains on overload. This over-stimulation makes them overtired, which leads to disregulation. In addition, the love and affection they receive from new parents sets off a firestorm of endorphins, causing them not to want to turn off the good feeling and go to sleep. This leads to an over-stimulated and overtired baby fighting sleep. Not to mention the added stress of a new environment with new care givers and learning new routines--oh—and her still dealing with pesky ear infections. Poor baby—this is a lot for any one bitty baby brain to handle.

Who doesn't love hiding under tissue paper?

Donovan and I have had very sweet moments as a family of three, no doubt; and I understand that those moments are what most people have witnessed and want to hear me talk about. But this blog is my place to share what is really happening. Not just the fluffies. It’s disappointing for us to not be able to focus our energies more on the fun things right now, but I know it will get better and that they will come. This is temporary and I believe that God equips us with what we need to handle the lemons along the way. We are so thankful to be able to parent her and be the ones to love her and receive her love in return. What a gift. I believe our baby girl just needs time to feel safe, secure and relaxed enough to allow herself to sleep. It’s a lot to expect of a 10-month old.

I will end with mentioning that she is, thankfully, sound asleep as I write. She is so ridiculously cute when she sleeps--butt in the air or flat on her tummy, appendages spread out like like a frog. Now please pass me my jug o' wine.

Noemi meets the mirror. This thing is hours of fun.

Our Trip To Ethiopia: The Middle Part Hulat (2)

For your pleasure: A photo montage of some random other happenings during the entitled “middle” of our trip...

The little chica and me outside of Ritmo Guesthouse.

Sosi and I, still recovering, passed out in our room at Ritmo. This was the day after our bed broke (while the three of us were in it--moments after getting Sosi to sleep) and it was replaced with a new one. Not kidding. We had to keep everything off of the floor to keep it dry which is why our suitcases are on the bookshelf. The bookshelf also dubbed as our clothesline for our wet laundry.

Our little lady with her papa--she started showing us that sweet smiles on day 5. This was the outfit we had sent in Noemi's "Welcome Bag." We learned shortly after our arrival that she had never received it and it was handed to us, unopened. We decided that we needed a photo of her in it for posterity.

I would have to agree. Thanks to my friend, Jill, for finding the onsie that says it all.

The road we walked everyday between Layla House and Ritmo Guesthouse.

Many families live and sell their goods along this road.

Eating our daily order of sambosas--the tasty lentil-filled fried pockets of goodness from a cafe across the street from Layla. For only 2 Birr each (less than 20 cents) we had our lunch. Triple yum.

The laundry area at Layla house. The kids produce enough laundry to pay the salaries of 4 laundry workers. These ladies mean business--everything is washed by hand.

The laundry, hanging out to dry outside of the baby nurseries and toddler room.

We are not permitted to post photos of children at Layla House, but we can show you the uniforms they wear to school everyday. Every class has a different color sweater vest with this AAI patch. Too cute.

Hanging out with the kids in the play yard on a sunny day.

Noemi chowing down on the spicy couscous and tomatoes served at Wanna House. So much for the rice cereal and formula we brought...

This was the fruit stand we frequented for bananas and avacados once we realized Sosi was eating more than rice cereal.

Sosi saying "goodbye" to her favorite caregiver at Wanna House, Yenet. We had received many photos of Yenet with Sosi before traveling to Ethiopia, so we were thrilled to be able to meet and thank her in person.

Donovan explores a little Ethiopian honey wine while out to dinner (sans kiddos) with other adoptive families, including our friend Zachary.

Our shared plate of deliciousness.

Mekonen: Hey Sosi, you wanna ditch the monkeys and get outta here?

Sosi: If you stop pulling my hair and sucking my toes.

You move too fast for me, big boy.

Rachael, Jon and Mekonen leaving for the airport. We were sad to see them go!

Bath Time With the Babe

Noemi is slowly getting used to taking a bath and starting to enjoy the bubbles and bobbing water toys. It has taken practice, but she is realizing how much fun bath time can be. We think our white kitchen sink is the perfect place for us to clean her seriously adorable brown sugar body. Decide for yourself...

love my squeaky clean girl

Our Trip to Ethiopia: The Middle

An unforgettable trip to Dire Dawa

Now that you have heard about our rough start in Ethiopia, it’s time to delve into the wonderful remainder of our trip. But just as a side note, Donovan and I do intend to call her Noemi (many of you have asked). Currently she answers to “Sosi” which is what everyone in Ethiopia called her; and Donovan and I have fallen in love with it. It is customary in Ethiopia for children to have a name that is an endearing name used in the home. I think we will use Sosi as such, but introduce her as Noemi. So if I flip-flop with her name when I refer to her, that’s why. It’s hard to call her anything other than Sosi right now cause it’s just so darn cute, but we are calling her both.

Now on to The Unforgettable Middle:

As Noemi started to feel better, we began to get out more and more. The middle of our trip consisted of lots of hanging out at the Ritmo Guesthouse with other adoptive families, a visit to the US Embassy where paperwork was finalized and we vowed to be Sosi’s parents, play time and photo shoots at Layla House with the older children and babies and an unbelievable trip to Noemi’s home town.

By day four Noemi’s fever was lessening and she had settled into having Donovan and I carry her around in our carrier. We began to feel like she was becoming comfortable with us, despite her still feeling mighty punk. She generally felt settled when being carried so we decided (after much debate) to take her with us to the town where she was from, Dire Dawa. So glad that we did. The day trip consisted of a one-hour flight with our fellow AAI adoptive family friends, Jon and Rachael Oren and their cutie-pie son Mekonen. Sosina and Mekonen both came into our agency’s care on the same day back in February from Dire Dawa so we had arranged for us to all travel together.

The gang at the airport

Overlooking dried up river beds on our flight to Dire Dawa. (So I forgot to turn the vertical photos before I uploaded them--it's late at night and I'm not going back to fix it--too bad.)

Donovan and his pooped girlie

The new family with Henok, our fantastic social worker through AAI. We are indebted to him for leading us around town, interpreting for us and providing us with a magical day.

What an amazing trip. Dire Dawa was by far the highlight of our time in Ethiopia. During our flight, I watched out of the plane window as we passed over dried up river beds: screaming reminders of the drought. The dry, hot and colorful town was very different from the bustling city of Addis. We felt like we were transported back in time. All around us women were draped in beautiful layers of colorful scarves and people carried their goods on their backs. At one point our car had to yield to a herd of camels crossing the road. It doesn't get better than that.

Jon and Rachael's taxi following behind us.

Sosi waking up in the taxi...what a little trooper.

Donovan couldn't stop shooting his camera while hanging out the side of our taxi.

A young boy happily chased our car all over town.

We met numerous people important to Noemi’s history, including the woman who found her, the police officer who named her and the women who lovingly cared for her in the local hospital/ children's home where she stayed for a few weeks before coming into our agency’s care. It was a tremendously moving day filled with tears of thankfulness and mourning. What a gift to be able to give Noemi the story and photos of the people who first loved her. They were all so delighted to be able to see Noemi again after many months and know that she now has a family. We were also grateful to share the experience with our friends, Jon and Rachael, who recorded much of it for us. Noemi moved through the busy and hot day with grace, allowing many people to hold and kiss her. This day proved to me that we have been gifted a tremendously strong and resilient child with a rich, spirited people in her blood.

Sosi's "intake" photo at the hospital/children's home. This is now the earliest photo we have of her at only 2 months old.

Sosi, back in her old crib at the hospital/children's home.

Mekonen and Sosi together where they first met. How romantic.

Two of Sosi's first caregivers at the children's home, Almaz and Genet.

Me with Genet, the director of the children's home, Elizabeth, the police officer who proudly named Sosina (which means "you will find happiness") and Tigist, the woman who found Sosina.

While in Dire Dawa we purchased a beaded decoration that is native to that region of Ethiopia. We will use it as an ornament on our Christmas tree to remember Noemi's hometown. It will serve as a symbol of the people who loved and cared for Noemi—her first family and community—and remind us to hold them in our prayers as she grows. We look forward to someday returning to this brilliant town with Noemi so that she can see for herself why we fell in love with it.

Mornings With Noemi

Just a taste of our happy little monster shortly after she woke up the other morning...

I think someone is feeling much better...

Our Trip to Ethiopia: The Beginning

The new family outside of Layla House, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

Well, all of you are anxious to hear the tales of our trip to Ethiopia to meet our dear little Noemi. I thought I would break the trip down into threes—The Beginning, The Middle and The End, as our time in Ethiopia seemed to have three distinct phases. Let’s begin where we started: The Beginning

I will be honest. Our moment of meeting Noemi was no unicorn, rainbows and stardust moment as many of us adoptive parents imagine. Instead, Donovan and I were handed our baby on a sunny Monday morning by a doctor in the orphanage infirmary who said, “This is Sosina, we think she has the measles.” Our adorable wide eyed girlie had a rash all over her body and a high fever. Poor baby. It was no glorious moment of sweet bliss. I can only think to compare it to a mother who gives birth and then the baby is unexpectedly rushed off to the NICU. You are so overcome with joy, yet confused and panicked. Measles? I thought measles were eradicated 50 years ago? Does she really have the measles or is it something else? If it is measles, will we be able to bring her into the USA? How will we get her the treatment she needs? Our minds went wild.

Our sick girlie, moments after meeting her.

And so, our first few days were spent driving around a city with limited resources including rolling power outages, frantically trying to find internet access/phone service in order to connect with our doctors in the US. We eventually connected with our doctor (via the generosity of a British man who lent us his satellite phone when he saw our distress) and went to a Swedish clinic in Addis Ababa. The doctor there felt that Sosina appeared to have a major double ear infection and strep throat so badly that it eventually erupted into what we were seeing. We got her on new antibiotics and spent the remainder of the week invading every orifice of her body 4 times a day. We gave her little reason to like us. Sweet girl—so sad for her. In between medicating our peanut, we attempted to sanitize just about everything in a land where the water is not drinkable and shuffle meds around from fridge to freezer and back again as power went on and off.

Our first snuggle, in the infirmary of the orphanage. Her medical charts hang on the wall behind us.

Our intentions to stay at a nearby hotel for the first week and spend the days at Layla House (the orphanage) playing with her so as to ease the transition were immediately kiboshed. She was quarantined and our only option to be able to be with her 24 hrs. was to stay in the infirmary or move to the guesthouse where we were allowed to have her stay with us. After spending one day in the infirmary and playing the awkward “smile fight” game with the caregivers/nurses over who got to care for Sosina, we made arrangements with the guesthouse. I was committed to Donovan and I holding her and being the ones to feed and change her so that we could begin to bond —even if Layla House staff were sweet people who loved Sosina. So I threw the girlie in my carrier and toted her out of there so that we could care for her ourselves.

Leaving the orphanage with our baby to go to the guesthouse.

Sleeping in our new room in the guesthouse. It consisted of a bed, a bookshelf and a crib. Note the sick girlie passed out on Momma's chest.

The guesthouse was full, but they made a room available for us by opening the extra room in an out building for us to use. We took Sosina with us to the tin roof, concrete floor, one light bulb lit room. It sucked. Let’s just say it. Caring for a sick baby in a dark, damp room without easy access to water s-u-c-k-e-d. She cried and slept for the first 4 or so days, not giving much, if any, eye contact. She eventually smiled on day 5 (and made this mommy’s heart all a-flutter). Such a bitter-sweet to be untied with your longed-for child, but for her to be so completely miserable much of the time. We felt so sad for her and weren’t sure how to meet her needs. Not only was she sick but she didn’t know us or her surroundings. I can’t imagine what she must have been feeling.

Our Guesthouse, just a quick walk from Layla House. We had local children and a herd of goats greet us each morning.

And so, that was the beginning of our time in Ethiopia. It does get much better, obviously, but I’m not going to sugar coat the first half of our trip. We were prepared for a lot—but not for this. I am just so thankful that we had the love and support and humor of other adoptive families around us and that we arrived the day that we did so that we could get her the medical care that she needed. Thanks be to God. Our baby is on the mend and doing well.

Noemi hanging with Daddy on the road between the guesthouse and Layla House after her fever broke.