Home

We walked off the plane and into a swarm of wonderful friends and family welcoming us home. Bless their hearts, we were tired, and emotional, and so ready to be home. We smiled, and hugged, and chatted about our trip, and Finn. We got our luggage and headed home, ready to begin our life as a family of 6, all under one roof. Even if we were still doing the hard things, we were doing them together, and in our familiar and cozy surroundings. There truly is no place like home.
Fast forward to today. We have been home a little over 2 weeks and we have had the expected ups and downs of bringing a stranger into your home who doesn't speak English and feels as much a fish out of water as we did in his home country, but he is alone and we had each other to commiserate with.
It is impossible to put into words the mountains of challenges and joyous victories we have experienced, mostly because the majority of it is a blur. I will tell you this: You can never understand the complexities of emotions that adoption brings to the table unless you go through it. The hard parts are excruciating. The good parts are both a breath of fresh air, and a much needed boost to your morale.
We have seen both massive meltdowns where there is screaming and tears (and not solely from Finn), as well as a quiet and sullen boy transforming into a joyful, strong, and determined little bitty firecracker. He wakes promptly at 7:00 AM, and wants to kiss and hug me and tell me "good morning". It's so sweet, but "7:00 Mama" doesn't want to speak to anyone and desperately wants to go back to bed. Nope. It's cartoons and coffee for 30 minutes and then breakfast, get dressed, brush our teeth, and start school. My days are FULL. He is a diligent little worker. His fine motor skills are grossly lacking, mostly, I believe, due to his CP, but I also believe it is due to his lack of instruction and practice with even something as seemingly insignificant (but not really) as holding a pencil. Apparently, he watched the other children go to school at the orphanage and he was left behind to do... well, whatever it is he did. I am guessing he was busy doing therapy instead of learning to read and write. Minor detail, right (insert a heavy dose of sarcasm here)? That grieves my heart because I see a bright child that was labelled "low intelligence" and he is the furthest thing from that! That boy wants to learn and is a sharp as a tack! He has already learned his numbers 1-10 and is working his way through the alphabet. He is picking up English at lightening speed, and uses phrases and words in context the greater majority of the time. He loves praise, and smiles ear to ear when you tell him he is doing a great job. He hates it when I don't allow him to erase, what he deems as "messy work", because he wants it to be perfect. I don't know anyone like that (insert eye roll here). He is desperate to go to school, and we have begun the process of getting him evaluated for both the ESL and Special Education programs within our school district. He needs to be at home for a bit longer, but he is chomping at the bit to go to school and see his friends (bless his heart, he doesn't have any yet).
Yes, he is playful and gregarious, but he is also a hurt little boy. He still is anxious, clingy, and demanding. He clings to me anytime I am around, and insists that I be there every minute of the day to not only give him physical affection, but cater to his every need. I'm not going to lie...it can be smothering, and that is probably my biggest struggle. I am not a touchy feely person, and the constant need for physical touch is wearing on me. When Tyler is home, Finn wants nothing to do with him. It is all mama, all the time, forever and ever, amen. The bonding process is hard enough without your child not caring if you are there or not, so Tyler has found it difficult to feel like he is connecting to him. The language barrier doesn't help either. The translation on our phones work very little. When they do, we have great victories, and when they don't it ends up in frustration on both sides.
We know that his clinginess is due to his abandonment issues, and it is totally understandable. It is just not something you can fully prepare for. But, we are figuring it out and trying to find ways for me to have a break. It's just part of the process, and we are doing our due diligence.
As I see glimpses of Finn blending into our family, my heart swells. I wonder how I will eventually love him as my son. I wonder how long it will take for him to feel like "my own" instead of a stranger living here and eating our food, and annoying his housemates. I know it takes time, and while we wait, I look for the little joys in our daily walk through life and becoming a family. I love the way Wyatt likes to scare him, and Finn fusses at him, but he really likes it. Wyatt has also shown a tenderness that I have only seen in his interaction with babies and toddlers. He is so sweet, and you can tell he will be one of his fiercest protectors. I love to see Caroline care for him in a very maternal way. She has a gentleness with him that is completely natural, and often times comes at just the right moment, when we are at our wit's end. Seeing Ethan immediately have an affection for him was an answer to our prayers, and was very needed while we were out in the throes of the first couple of weeks with him. Tyler and I were trying to keep our heads above water, and Ethan stepped right in and was the level-headed and patient big brother that we desperately needed him to be. He ended up being the bright light in our darkest days (and they were VERY dark, indeed). He has always been fond of, and very comfortable with kids that were different from the norm. Whether they had special needs, or they were the kids who no one noticed, he always did, and made them feel like they were somebody. Seeing him grow into a young man who still has those same innate qualities from his early childhood is the ultimate reward for a parent, aside from seeing them put their faith in Christ.
We have a long long way to go. We are re-training a child who has been hurt and unloved, who is broken, and scared. He doesn't know what family is. He doesn't know that mamas and daddies don't leave. He doesn't know that if he is sick, we will take care of him, or if he is naughty, that we will still want him. His life is so uncertain to him, but we are certain of him. This process is messy, and hard, and sometimes feels like a dark cloud over our heads. However, we know that The Lord brought us a spunky 9-year-old from across the globe to help us grow our hearts even more, and to be Jesus to him. Our most important job is to teach him about the love of Christ. If we can do that, then it is worth all of the tears, and fears, and unknowns. The victories will become more frequent, and the love, and acceptance, and the knitting together of our hears will come in due time, and until then, we wait with expectant and grateful hearts for the opportunity to be his family.

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