Moving Decisions

For those of you tracking our pre-move preparations, here is your basic update (upgrade to excruciating detail available via phone or in person):

The other day Aaron and I actually took some time to chat (imagine that) and I felt like we made more decisions in a half hour than we had in two months. I think I will probably end up freelancing (although I would still explore any good opportunity, so if you hear of something, please do pass on the tip). I felt like Aaron gave me permission, even though he didn't need to because he's always been supportive, when he said, "Why don't you keep freelancing? You're already doing it and it will make so many other things so much simpler." And it will.

I think I didn't realize how stressed I was at the thought of "having to" find a job, figure out child care, etc., especially from a distance. It was all a bit much to think about at this point. We can always reevaluate once we're settled, but realistically I wasn't going to be able to have it all lined out before then anyway, so it was a pointless stress to self-impose. (Of course I still don't know quite what we're doing about insurance, so the underlying source of stress is still there, but I'm accepting that trying to get covered by a new job by the time Aaron ends his is not the answer.)

Under the work-at-home scenario, we should be fine with one car, which means we'll sell our Suzuki rather than having to move it across the country. Then we'll take my dad's Ridiculously Imposingly Ginormous (RIG™) pickup off his hands, thereby allowing him to complete Phase One of his master "How can I get a new truck?" plan and me to look like a miniaturized King Kong scaling its towering sides to get up into it. I'm thinking of attaching a catapult to the running board so I can more ergonomically heave Anna up into her seat. But hey, at least I will be able to plow through snowdrifts.

Finally, we determined that we should set a target date for moving so we can get a truck rented. We are aiming at right around July 8. I can't believe I just wrote that.

Maybe God was watching for some sign of decisiveness down here, because today we had people look at our house who actually seem interested. We hope that they are rich and get loan approved--or are not rich but will get approved like they are anyway. You know, like us. O dear sweet homeless baby Jesus, save us from this mess and we'll never borrow subprime again...

Heretical kidding aside, we sure are praying and hoping we get an offer we wouldn't want to refuse. Join us, and watch this space for updates . . .

HOLY CRAP 8:45 UPDATE: We are getting an offer tomorrow! Sounds like it should be solid . . . Woo hoo!

Sha-na-na-na-nah . . . Get a Job?

As I mentioned in my recent panicky post, we have less than three months till we put all our stuff in a truck and head east to become cemetery dwellers.

People ask me if I'm excited and I just don't know what to say. I was, and I think I am. I know I will be. But so much must be done first, and right now I don't quite know what I'm supposed to be looking forward to because so much is still unknown, particularly for me. Life in Michigan is in many ways a big, mitten-shaped, blank canvas.

We know where we're living (seminary townhouse), and I think being part of the seminary community will be interesting and good for us. But what does my actual day-to-day life look like? I do not know if I'm (a) getting up and editing two hours in my pajamas before taking my girl for a leisurely walk to the park to smell tulips before lunch, or (b) getting up and putting on stiff clothes I don't currently own and driving 45 minutes to spend 8 hours in a cube at some sort of Evil Spamway Corporation. There is a really big difference between the two.

Freelancing has its, ahem, prose and cons.

I would like to continue the freelance life, but I've never done it full time so I'm nervous about my ability to win enough bread (because health insurance/care will require a lot of extra bread). Yet a job would most likely have to have benefits to be worthwhile since it raises the issues of cars, commutes, clothes, and child care. But in our situation, with "preexisting" health issues, group health insurance is almost priceless, so I might have to take what I can find--if there are any jobs left in Michigan to find.

Another option would be for me move into a Starbucks and simply move from one side of the counter to the other depending on whether I'm working there or freelancing or sleeping. But I might build up an immunity to caffeine, and then I couldn't be a freelancer anymore. It's a rule. (Actually, though, I've heard Starbucks offers benefits and $4000 adoption grants. Hmmmm.)

There is some sort of break-even or tipping point between freelancing and a regular job. Freelancing is a better hourly rate, so a part-time job probably really doesn't make sense, although freelancing does require paying payroll taxes (which has never bothered me since we just had extra tax withheld from Aaron's pay to cover mine, but I'll have to pay quarterly again). But a job with benefits would be a different story. Maybe. Now we'd have child care and commuting costs to consider. So a lot depends on the particulars, but as I'm poking around online, I don't see any tailor-made publishing jobs just begging to be filled. Ten thousand new English major soon-to-be grads, plus half the auto industry, will probably see to that.

What do you think is the tipping point, dear readers? At what point is going back to a "real job" worth it--financially, emotionally, practically? What am I forgetting to consider?

Freelance and work-at-home friends in particular, what are your "wish I'd known that" secrets to making it work well enough to carry the financial load? If you've gone from job to freelance or vice versa, what have been the pros and cons for you?

Most importantly: which would make the best blog fodder?

Attachment and Going Back to (Volunteer) Work

With apologies for the length, here are my thoughts on attachment and schedules at this point in our adoption/parenting adventure. I tried to spice it up with some links for those of you who may, say, be considering Ethiopian adoption but be too shy to email me yet (ahem).

Because of various conversations and our post-placement review, I have been thinking a lot over the last week about attachment, attachment parenting, when to leave Anna in others’ care, and what that means for all the things I am/used to be involved in outside the house.

Attachment is not our warm-fuzzy feeling of being “bonded” to our child but our child’s trusting relationship to her parents. As one article puts it, attachment is “the quality of the relationship a child feels toward a particular person (parent, grandparent, caregiver, etc.).” Strong attachment is formed through building, over time, the child’s sense of security and comfort that their caregiver will respond to their needs—physical and emotional.

Children who are securely attached are more confident in learning and exploring, interact more positively with other kids, are more emotionally stable and able to manage feelings, and are more able to handle stress and help others handle stress. Children who do not have strong attachment, well, they are more likely to lack confidence, have difficultly with social interactions, express and manage feelings, and act out in unhealthy ways. The extreme is the dreaded Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD). Most people don’t know this name but it’s what they mean when they warn you that if you adopt, your child might be “messed up” and hate you as a teenager. I can actually see signs of abandonment/attachment issues in some of the teenagers we know--not adopted--and it's not pretty.

Helping Anna form strong attachment to us is absolutely the most important thing we can do for her and our family. It’s number one. This is why we’ve been careful to be Anna’s only true caregivers—the only ones to change her diaper, feed her a bottle, put her to sleep, comfort her when she cries. (Even my mother didn’t get to do these things when she visited, and kudos to her for not trying, because you know she was just dying to get her hands on that baby for so long.) It’s why we lean more toward “attachment parenting”—responding to baby’s cries, having her sleep near us, carrying her in a sling rather than always parking her in a stroller or seat. And it’s why we haven’t left her with anyone else, despite myriad babysitting offers.

Sure, kids usually easily come to trust their parents to take care of them. But for an adopted child, it’s not so simple. We are Anna’s fifth set of caregivers. In her first six months of life, four times she thought the person caring for her would always be there. Can we really expect her to be one hundred percent confident that we the fifth will be different? She is now 8 ½ months yet our relationship is only 2 months old. Emotionally, with us, she’s 2 months old, not 8 ½. Sometimes it seems like she’s been here a long time, but two months really isn’t very long. One guideline for attachment is to expect it to take as long as the child is old when they come to you. Anna was six months when we met, so plan to focus on attachment for at least six months.

This brings us to the present predicament of everything that revolves around the school year starting up and I, well, I’m not sure where I’m supposed to fit in. In the past I would run the PowerPoint at church and serve on a committee. We have a small group at our house and sometimes I make food. And most of all I’ve been sort of a (left-handed) right-hand-woman for Aaron in church youth group, I’ve given rides and hung out with kids, and I’ve helped plan and prepare for and lead Young Life Club.

• Category 1 is done. No more church worship stuff.
• Category 2 is fine for now. We meet at our house and Anna is fairly content to hang out with us.
• Category 3 . . . may have to go. Or be altered so as to be nearly unrecognizable. I’m not sure. I just know a lot of these activities aren’t conducive to hauling a baby along. (I also have to stay home and work sometimes, because man do I suck at getting work done during the day now.)

What about leaving her with someone? I think both of us realized last week in talking that we’re not ready—and/or we don’t think Anna is ready. Sure, she seems to love everyone and is getting to know some people she sees consistently. Maybe she’d be fine. Or maybe she’d seem fine but the hesitation to attach would be stirred. Or maybe she’d regress—remember the football game incident? And the week of not napping? She seemed to regress that week. I say this because when she first came home, she would scream bloody murder for her bottle. I mean zero to shaking with violent sobs in sixty seconds. After a few weeks it got better; putting a bib on her no longer meant you were trying to torture her but might actually mean you would indeed feed her soon. But that week after the overstimulation meltdown and frustrated mommy putting her in a new playpen and leaving her crying longer than ever—she went back to the violent sobs sometimes. It was like she was saying, “I don’t trust you anymore. You stopped being responsive to me so I’d better make my demands completely clear” (and really loud).

I don’t want to see that again. And certainly not continuing for long.

I'm sure plenty of people might think we're paranoid. That we need to be away from her (both at the same time). That we'll spoil her by responding too much. That because she's a baby she'll just naturally be fine. I find it ironic that it seems the same people who would warn about "messed-up adopted kids" (attachment disorders) would turn around and minimize efforts to prevent that. But I digress. The point is, it's too important not to err on the side of caution. With all she's been through already, she deserves our all in parenting, especially at this completely dependent stage.

Our solution for now is to bring her along when I can and sit some things out for now. She has warmed up to sporting events and had a rockin’ good (though exhausting) time at Wildhorse Canyon for Young Life leadership camp. She did okay at youth group as long as she could suck on a grape, so I will probably try to be there most weeks and maybe ease into letting someone else watch her in the nursery nearby after a while or something. But Young Life Club? At any given moment it might involve yelling, loud music, strobe lights, inflatable or food-based projectiles, and people setting a very bad example as to what foods/nonfoods should be eaten together (see: lettuce/live goldfish), all in one room with nowhere to escape to.

And so it was that as we headed to leadership camp to talk about how we will serve kids together, I harbored the knowledge that there is no “me” in “we” right now, at least when it comes to doing Club. I’m still helping with planning and still can do “contact work” which in theory is the most important part of Young Life . . . but it’s strange to think I won’t be at Club with the kids and leaders.

I’ll feel a little left out two Mondays from now, I think, but I also think it’s the right thing for right now. You can’t all do all of the stuff all of the time, and our little girl needs me more than those bigger girls and guys right now. I have to trust our team, and I have to trust our family, and I have to trust our God.

The Only Way Out Is Through

God is good, all the time.

What a long, strange trip these past couple of weeks have been.

We had our garage sale, and we got closer to (paying for) bringing Anna home.
We had Mother's Day, and strangely enough I was validly wished a happy one.
We had a court date set and high hopes of seeing family and friends on our way to Ethiopia in just a few short weeks.
And then . . .
And then . . .
Why can't we just be happy and excited for one week? Why does something always have to go wrong? Seriously, God . . . what the heck?

Aaron went in to his cardiologist for a routine visit to get his meds updated. The doctor read his charts and a test from last summer and went to check something. When he came back, he recommended surgery. As the kids say . . . WTF?

We waited through the week to get set up with an appointment and go up to Portland for more tests and consultation with a surgeon experienced with Marfan Syndrome. When three doctors (or are they lawyers?) walk in the room, you know they mean business. They determined that Aaron's aortic root (where the main artery, the aorta, comes out of the heart) has expanded right to the point where the risk increases so much that they recommend surgery.

Thanks for noticing that, you know, last summer.

Then again, thanks for not noticing, or we wouldn't have Anna.

The surgeon said he should get it taken care of and there's no reason to wait. Uhh, that you know of. I got one, how 'bout this: We're adopting a baby. In about 6 weeks. In Ethiopia.

Long doctoral pause.

Oh.
Wow.
Hmmm.
"First let me say I think it's wonderful you're doing that." Yeah, you're just stalling now, doc.

We talked about how the adoption process works, how we wanted to travel in six weeks and how little control we have over the process. Could Aaron travel first and have the surgery late July? He said wasn't his first choice but didn't think it was crazy to consider; he wasn't ruling it out. But . . . it adds risk. How much risk? Unfunny thing about Marfan Syndrome: no one really has any idea. We talked about surgery late July, but we needed to think about it and he wanted to show the tests to more people and think about it. We'd talk Monday. Fair enough.

So, that'll kinda put a damper on your big baby party weekend.

Some people seemed to think this was a no-brainer decision, but trust me, it was pure agony. We wanted to get Anna home as soon as possible, as everything had seemed to be lined up perfectly for, and to share the incredible experience of traveling to Ethiopia for our first week together as a family. And most importantly, we were terrified that doing surgery before court or even just the agency finding out about this before court would jeopardize our ability to bring her home at all. Then there were all the other summer plans so long anticipated and worked for and prayed for: for Aaron to lead the teenagers he's been growing so close to all year at Young Life camp, for him to be in his friend of 20 years' wedding, to see our distant family members and friends . . .

I had a brief conversation with the doctor Monday, we kept thinking and talking with a few wise friends, and our pendulum began to swing from we'll wait to we won't wait. But the doctor still hadn't looked over the tests again, so I stayed by the phone the rest of the week. Or rather the phone stayed by me. Seriously, I took it to the mailbox and the bathroom. That kind of companionship will make you crazy.

Last Friday we finally had a real conversation with the surgeon and decided to do the surgery Wednesday, June 6. They will replace a section of Aaron's aorta with a plastic section. They will also either repair his damaged valves at that spot or replace it with a mechanical one, in which case he'll be on blood thinners, so we are now hoping for a repair job. He will be in the hospital about a week.

The doctor said the soonest he could possibly travel would be 4 weeks, but they say 6-8 weeks for full recovery. People keep saying their 80-year-old grannies were out riding motorcycles after 60 days or whatever, so we'll see. When we heard our court date was successful, I told the agency about our situation and they were extremely supportive--big relief. I am sure they will work with us on travel dates but we haven't gotten that far yet.

I don't think I have ever been as stressed as I was that week of waiting on the doctor and deciding. Even my body was revolting, and I don't just mean how I looked. Aaron has been having trouble sleeping, and although part of the load is lifted with court done, this is still an anxious time. We trust--somehow inside us we know--God will bring us to the other side. But that doesn't make it easy. It's a rough road ahead, but the only way out is through.

All the time, God is good.

“You can’t conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.”

—Graham Greene