Operation Sweet Potato

I think she likes the sweet potatoes. That or she axe-murdered The Great Pumpkin.


Operation Stuff the Child with Solids is going into full force today due to the failure of Operation Create a Budget That Can Withstand Five Cans of Formula Per Month. We will introduce new foods in order of frugality. What is the cheapest vegetable known to man?

Also, I'm back to work. A little. The time budget needs some help too. A nice firm deadline will do wonders, I'm sure. For those of you who are new around here, I am a freelance editor, so I work at home, and not very hard (just kidding, blog-stalking clients. Hey, aren't you reading this at work?).

I do still intend to blog about our Ethiopia trip. It's just . . . hard to find the words to start, and I can't explain why. As much as I want to share it, I think part of me wants to just keep it for myself because it's so inexpressible and I know you won't fully understand. I know some of you know what I mean. Still, stories are for telling, so I will.

After the work. Always the work!

Happy August

Know what I did yesterday? I mean, besides refuse to take my malaria pill and wax poetic about it.

I took down my Easter decorations.

Because August seemed like a good time for that. Although I considered holding out for a direct swap to Christmas.

Refills

Today I took my last malaria pill, signifying that we have been home from Ethiopia for one month.

Actually, to be honest, I haven’t taken it yet, only looked at it, because to do so makes me a little sad. Going to Africa was a dream I held for many years—maybe my whole life—and my feeling when the plane landed was We did it. We’re in Africa. Along with the half-joking thought I can die now. (I had the same "check it off the list of things to do before I die" feeling to a lesser degree at my first U2 concert. I hope to go back there too.)

I can’t believe that my time in Africa is gone.

I refuse believe I have no refills left.

Reality Check . . . Make That "Remittance"

A couple nights ago I finally faced the stack of medical bills and insurance "explanations" we've received since we left for Ethiopia.

I can't imagine why I would have been avoiding it.

It was literally two inches thick.

Anna helped me sort it all out.

Then we did this.

The Good Life

I'm sorry I have been absent from this blog for so long. We have been busy living the good life.

On August 2 my parents and my brother and sister-in-law arrived from Michigan and Colorado to visit Anna and, I suppose, us. To say my mom was a little bit excited to meet her first grandchild would be one of the greatest understatements in the history of grandchildren. Family activities included adoring Anna, taking pictures of Anna, grilling food, giving Anna toys, taking pictures of Anna, trips to Safeway, taking pictures of Anna, trips to the beach, making Anna laugh, and, oh yes, taking pictures of Anna.

Saturday we did drive down the coast to do the tourist thing. Anna chose a popular chowder restaurant for her first PDD (Public Display of Defecation). This is now known as "getting Mo'ed" or a child who has "Mo'ed out." Apologies to those would-have-been (had I not made them ill) diners I passed by during our hasty, inelegant evacuation. Since they had to see it, why shouldn't you? (Go on, zoom in. I dare you.) (Why are you mad at me, Anna? Your sick grandma's the one who took the picture.)


Other than that little episode, Anna was a great traveler, tourist, and restaurant patron. Sadly, my brother and sister-in-law could only stay until Monday, but Mom and Dad were here through Sunday. Here are some photos of other activities we enjoyed:

• dressing up silly, pretty, and sporty

• trying new foods

• wave and whale watching

• making interesting size comparisons (during volcanic mouth activity)

• training up a child in the way she should go so that when we are preparing our thrilling 4th-quarter comeback she will not depart from it

• learning to fly

After One Week

I am sorry I have not been blogging. For some reason time seems to be taking a different pace . . .

We have been home a week and a day. Anna has been doing wonderfully overall. She loves to eat and I swear she's chubbying up before my eyes. She's 14 pounds already! The first few days she was up in the night and early in the morning, but we have tried keeping her up later and she has made it through the night a couple times, like 10:00 pm to 7:00 am last night. We had some visitors during the week and Friday took Anna for her doctor's appointment in Portland. She did well performing her tricks for the doctor, such as showing how well she can pee on a table. Twice. The cough she had when we met her is all but gone; her cradle cap is much better; we think she had scabies which we killed, but that has made her itchy and rashy. I hope it clears up soon although I think it's now bothering me more than her. The blood draw was rough, though, especially since they had to try twice to get it. Why, Mommy and Daddy, WHY?!?!

Friday night traffic from Portland was horrible, but we still beat the bus of Young Life kids coming home from camp so we could be there to meet them. I expected certain girls to come running at me and Anna . . . I did not expect ALL OF THEM to swarm and to make such an ear-piercing high-pitched SQUEEEEEEEEAL. Whoa, chicas, back off a little! She lasted a bit but then we had to retreat to the van. Long day for a little girl.

Today she made her debut at church and was so quiet some people didn't even realize we were back there. She chewed her Detroit Lions teether and then fell asleep on Aaron for a while.


But she barely napped the rest of the day and this evening was not a happy camper. I don't know if it was the failed new bottle experiment or what, but I'm sure the neighbors thought we were torturing her. All the bodily functions seem to have returned to normal, though, and hopefully tonight she will be doing a lot of this:

I will start posting on our Ethiopia trip as soon as I finish journaling it, and I'll have more pictures. It's just that a certain girl and Harry Potter have been fighting for my attention!

July 24

July 24, 2006: My 30th birthday. After my parents headed home from their visit, I drove to the post office and mailed our application to the adoption agency. It felt good to do something official after all the talk and research and decisions. I had dinner with friends and barely refrained from telling them what I'd done.

July 24, 2007: My 31st birthday. Woke up early to the fussing of my baby girl, home three days. Spent the day dressing her in pretty dresses, feeding her, cleaning her, showing her off to visitors, comforting her, and making her scream with glee at funny faces.

What a difference a year makes.

We Are Home

We are home. Anna is wonderful. We had a wonderful trip and will write more as soon as we can.



Amesegenallo, Ethiopia.

Ready(?)

Ready.

Ready.



Ready.



Ready?

In two days we walk under African skies. In three we meet our dream made flesh.

Commence Paul Simon soundtrack of my life.

No I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
When the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away . . .

Joseph's face was black as night
The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes
His path was marked
By the stars in the Southern Hemisphere
And he walked his days
Under African skies
This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain . . .

Too many people on the bus from the airport
Too many holes in the crust of the earth
The planet groans
Every time it registers another birth

But down among the reeds and rushes
A baby girl was found
Her eyes as clear as centuries
Her silky hair was brown

Never been lonely
Never been lied to
Never had to scuffle in fear
Nothing denied to
Born at the instant
The church bells chime
And the whole world whispering
Born at the right time
Born at the right time

T-Minus 5 Days and Counting

So, we leave for Ethiopia next Friday this Friday. WE LEAVE ON FRIDAY!

Are we all ready? Ha ha ha. That would be a big fat no. We do have almost everything we need, but until yesterday it was all dumped in a pile in the middle of Anna's room. I removed packaging from new items and reduced the pile to 45% of its previous size. Good grief, no wonder our Earth is in trouble.

Thursday night we went up to Portland since Aaron had to have an x-ray and doctor's visit early Friday. We stopped at Target and bought some gifts for our Compassion girl who we will get to meet! Hoo boy, that shopping was fun. I can't imagine the fun those adopting older kids have picking out everything for them.

The doctor said Aaron's recovery is right on track and the weird symptoms he is still having, like coughing and night sweats, are not unusual. That means they can't do anything for you; you just have to wait it out. He is getting stronger all the time, though. We got out and about for the fireworks on the 3rd and 4th, and he got to see a lot of people. Is there anything better in summer than fireworks where the river meets the sea? I think not.

We are now in the period of Lasts and Nexts. Last time going to church just the two of us. Next time we go out to eat, we'll need a high chair. Last time I use or wear or wash things before I put them in the suitcase. Next time I want to zip into the store I'll have to unbuckle and rebuckle a car seat. Last time grilling steak on a Saturday night without a side of baby food. Next time you see us, we'll have our baby with us. (Last time you'll pay any attention to us.)

It is strange and surreal to think that the next time we do a lot of things, we'll have to do them completely differently. People keep saying, sometimes in a cryptic warning whisper, "Your lives are about to completely change." I say I know, yet I have no idea. But really, isn't that the point? We're doing this so that our life together, as wonderful as it has been thus far, does change and grow and expand. That doesn't mean I know what it will feel like to be in the next phase, but I think it's like marriage--you can only be so ready, and then you just do it, a day at a time.

I don't know how to get any more ready.

Except packing...
And laundry...
And cleaning up...
And finishing work...
And running errands...
I gotta go.

Let Freedom Ring

Provision(s)

We leave Portland on July 13! We will arrive in Addis on the 14th and spend our first day with Anna Jubilee on the 15th. We hope to also meet the girl I sponsor through Compassion--pray that they can arrange this on such short notice. We leave Addis at night on July 20 and get home on the 21st.

We are going via United/Lufthansa even though it's painfully more expensive because the better connection times will almost save us a day of travel/hotel each way, and with this long of a trip and us living 3 hours from the airport and Aaron still tired and uncomfortable, comfort and ease won out over dollars. We will change planes in Germany to give me a chance to try out all the Deutsch I once learned from Das Frau, in whose honor I shall wear purple (that day only, not every single day, as she did).

I continue to be amazed and grateful how every apparent setback is met by God's abundant provision, delivered by his people. Medical bills? How about on the day before surgery you receive a $2500 grant from a certain diminutive musician's ministry, Shaohannah's Hope! I love that we got a grant from Mr. Chapman because I met him once, and seriously, he's hardly taller than me. We got free backstage passes to a concert when I interned at a radio station, so we went, even though we weren't really fans. We hung back in the meet-and-greet line to let all the actually-excited people get their handshakes and autographs first. We thought this a bit amusing since people sometimes wanted Aaron's autograph when he was in his band and he always felt funny doing it since really, what's the point? Finally we stepped up and greeted him and he offered nicely, "Would you like my autograph?" and I replied without thinking, "No thanks; would you like mine?" Obviously he did not remember this incident or we would have been on Shaohannah's Blacklist.

Price of plane tickets almost sending you back to the hospital? Generous friends have sent a large gift to help make up for the unexpected extra cost!

Need some baby stuff? Ha! We will have you drowning in pink clothing and sippy cups before you can count to onesie! Our anniversary felt like Christmas when we opened two boxes of baby goodies from our friends Mike and Ren. Feeding stuff, toys, clothes, carrier, you name it, they passed it on. My mom couldn't keep herself away from garage sale steals. Aaron scored the essentials for fall at DetroitLions.com. And then today there came The Giant Box of Adoptive Families' Girly Goodies, oh my! I'd told other moms some time ago that I needed very small clothes since Anna was so tiny, so I was next on the list for this box as J's daughter had outgrown things already. I couldn't stop laughing pulling things out--it just didn't stop! I think Anna is already too big for some of this, but the friend from our Web board I affectionately call Crazy Laura just received a referral for a very young girl. Congratulations and watch your doorstep before too long, girl!

These are a few of my favorite things!

Okay, in the interests of honesty . . . this is what the rest of the room looks like right now. I had it all cute and organized until I started doing laundry, I swear!

GO for Travel!

Addis, we are GO for travel!

This morning I called Aaron's surgeon's assistant (who is, as she would say, FAN-tas-tic) and explained that our agency had an embassy date for us and although I wanted to be so excited as she suggested, I really wanted the big doc's A-OK before I bought airplane tickets. She checked with the doctor and called back in an hour and said "Buy your tickets!" YES!*

We are looking at leaving on July 13 and returning on the 21st. Can you say holy cow that's only 2 1/2 weeks from now!? And #&^!@* the tickets cost how much?

Baby girl is coming home!


* I would like to revoke the love I spontaneously pledged to a certain surgeon, although I will let my professed love for the assistant stand.

Big A, Little A

The Big A, Aaron, is slowly getting his energy back up and his pain and narcotics down. He generally feels pretty good during the day, although he tires very easily. He also has this weird hot/cold thing going on. During the day he is down to just Tylenol, but at night he has more pain and needs prescription meds. Please keep praying for less pain and better sleep . . . especially since the doctor didn't want to give us the A-OK for Ethiopia until after he's off his pain meds. Meanwhile, though, our agency is planning an embassy date for us. I feel weird and sneaky again being half-committed, half-waiting. I hope we can have a conversation with the doctor early next week (before he is out of town) and he says it's okay to move forward. 'Cuz I'd hate to have to disobey him, but I need to buy tickets.

Meanwhile Little A, Anna, is going on with the business of growing up. Specifically, up to 11 pounds 10 ounces and 22.8 inches. Apparently she got shorter since her last measurement (23 1/2 inches)--or, more likely, she likes to squirm. Someday she'll even fit in her sweaters.





A big thank-you to Joyce and Rick for keeping me company and helping us out during all this! Hope you are back on the right time zone and enjoying that big wannabe-ocean of yours.

In Sickness and in Health

June 21, 1997.

I, Wendy, take you, Aaron, to be my husband. Relying upon the strength of Christ, I promise before God and all who are present here to be a loving and faithful wife, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I will love you, serve you, and encourage you according to God's holy Word until death parts us. I pledge you my life.

Best promise I ever made. Even though I didn't really know what I was saying. Does anyone ever? The correct answer to "Are you ready to get married?" is not "Yes" but "Ready as we'll ever be." That's when you're ready: when you know it's a bigger promise than you can live up to on your own but you're humbly, wholeheartedly dedicated to making it work by faith, commitment, learning, and grace.

We've had our share of sickness to go with the health. I started us off by getting food poisoning at the end of our honeymoon and spending a week unable to keep anything down. There is no good place to be that sick, but I can testify that airplane seat narrowly beats out airplane bathroom, airport bathroom, hotel room, and home as Worst Place to Vomit. And no, genius in front of me on the plane, it's not motion sickness since we're not moving yet.

We did pretty well from then until this year's eye surgery and open heart surgery for Aaron. In year ten of our marriage I have driven to appointments, argued insurance coverage, administered eye drops and narcotics, put on a brave face, scrubbed rashes, fluffed pillows, fetched water, and held hands. In year ten I have been scared, nurturing, angry, steady, and exhausted.

In year ten I have loved like never before.

And for ten years, I have been loved like no one deserves.

And that, my friends, is what it's all about.

Thank you, God, for this man I love.

Thank you, Aaron, for sharing it all. I pledge you my life.

Hanging at Home

It is good to be home, and we have been out and about a bit too. On Saturday Joyce and I went to the Beachcomber Days parade and walked around town a bit in the perfect weather. Sunday we had worship outside in front of the church and then a BBQ to benefit the scholarship fund. Aaron made it down for the BBQ.

After a couple hours home recharging we all went into town for our favorite cultural event, the bed races. Sadly, only two entries. Young Life has got to get a team together next year. Briggs can build an aerodynamic pirate ship/iPod/slingshot or some such elaborate craft. But I digress.

Aaron's energy level is obviously up, although I think I hear some, uh, "relaxed breathing" coming from the recliner again now. His pain levels are definitely down during the day, but he still has trouble staying comfortable and sleeping at night. Keep praying for sleep, please.

With this summer weather and no work, I feel like I'm on some sort of unauthorized summer vacation. I haven't even cooked, thanks to church folk. I am ready to tackle my to-do lists, packing lists, shopping lists, and household disaster zones.

Settling In

We are settling in at home. The first night Aaron had a hard time getting comfortable in bed. Every 20 minutes we were trying a different arrangement of pillows and I thought, Will I ever sleep again? Tell me this is not preparation for how our baby will (not) sleep. Eventually we got it right, though, and for the rest of the night and last night we were only up every couple of hours (well, at least I was--I suspect Aaron was up more).

Friday Aaron had to get his blood checked here in town, and I had more errands to run in the afternoon. Then we had a period where I think all three of us were napping. I think I am slowly getting caught up on sleep, and Aaron's pain seems to be slightly less, although it comes and goes, and when it comes, it's not fun. As my brain slowly defogs, I will have more thoughtful blog posts, but I know you only really care about what's below anyway: new pictures of beautiful, alert, smiling, giggling Anna!

Home Sweet Home

We are home. It has been a long day. In time we will love to see you all again, but for now best to phone first and don't be offended if we don't pick up. We also have to swing by the local doctor tomorrow.

We got word about 9:00 a.m. that Aaron was cleared to go home. Once we got him discharged we had to get his prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy and go check out of our hotel. We got home at about 3:30.

We are all worn out and Aaron was at times overwhelmed, I think, by the strangeness of knowing what has happened to him over the last week and now being on his own in a sense rather than under nurses' watchful eyes. It is in a sense hard to trust that we will be okay with all the medications and pain and all on our own. I think once we settle in and get better rest he will be glad to be home, though.

We are grateful to the Howes for dinner and the Esteses for the loan of a recliner that doesn't have "issues." And now, finally, I am going to go be grateful for my bed.

Recovery Report: Day 8

Aaron had a good day today. Mine was a little goofy. I think my brain is addled.

This morning we took Aaron's dad to the airport. Joyce is staying another week. On the way we stopped to fill one of my tires with air and Rick noticed it had a piece of metal in it, which would explain the slow leak. Dropped him off and I went the wrong direction on the highway. Please send coffee.

We went to the hospital and hung out and took walks with Aaron. He did well through the day with only pain pills, no IV drugs, so I hope he can get through the night that way. If he can and the blood thinner levels are good in the morning, he should get to go home. His biggest annoyance today was that he has been feeling itchy all week but now it's a full-on rash all over. The nurse looked up all his drugs to see if it said any can cause itching, and it could be his pain meds, or just the way everything is interacting, or what the linens are washed in, or the super concentrated soap they gave him. I tend to think maybe the soap since he seemed to get worse after trying to wash away the itch, so I got him new soap and they got him hypoallergenic linens and Benedryl. 'Cuz he wasn't on enough drugs.

In between all that I decided my brain was too fuzzy and I needed to go get the tire fixed and crash in my hotel room for a while. I went to the van and found a note: "Just a friendly note from the valet staff that you have a flat tire." Yep, FLAT, like can't even drive it to the gas station flat. But the nice, probably bored valet guy offered to help me change it. Of course I have only had this van 6 weeks so I wasn't familiar with its spare and jack system. We spent an embarrassing amount of time puzzling over how a T-shaped piece could "tilt through hole to remove spare" when the T is bigger than the hole. I felt like a monkey with no depth perception. He said, "You'd think a college degree would be helpful here," and "Don't they say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?" Then he beat it on the ground and got it into two pieces as apparently required. Duh. The poor guy got filthy and can't accept tips. I nominated him for a Rose Award; maybe he'll get a two-cent raise.

Got the tire fixed; it had not one but two pieces of metal in it, which would explain the rapid acceleration of flatativity. Went to the hotel where, oh yes, I had left the cell phone in the morning, and got a 45-minute nap.

We're hoping to get to the hospital early enough tomorrow to see the surgeon on his early morning rounds. I don't know what time they'll check Aaron's blood and make a decision about letting him go home. But we're all about ready to get out of here.

There's no place like home . . . There's no place like home . . . There's no place like home . . .

Recovery Report: Day 7

Live from room K11 . . .

Aaron had a good day today. Since he is now alert enough to be bored, the other good news is that we discovered that we can indeed access the Internet from the hospital room. Shall we try some live blogging?

8:45 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room, waiting for nurse to come fiddle with IVs.

9:00 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room, watching nurse fiddle with IVs.

9:15 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room, watching nurse fiddle with IVs.

9:20 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room.

Well, I’m pretty disappointed in that little experiment.

Anyway, last night Aaron got some nice meds to help him sleep, with the only side effect being him waking up in the night in some sort of weird dreamlike state before figuring out where he was. Trippy is better than not sleeping, though. The pain was under control pretty well today, although it is always there. He walked around the hall and enjoyed the view of the city and mountains from the waiting room, which I also enjoyed for quite a while from the sunny, warm terrace garden area. If you have to hang around a hospital for a week, this is actually a pretty nice one to be in, especially this new wing.

One of the doctors talked to us some more about his blood coagulant levels this afternoon. Aaron was just started on a drip to get his blood thinned more; when it is at the right level, he can probably go home. It is looking like he might be able to go home Thursday, although it is still wait and see.

Please keep praying for (1) the blood anti-coagulants to get adjusted easily, (2) good rest at night, (3) good energy and exercise during the day, (4) pain control, and (5) boredom control.

We got new pictures of our baby girl! I will get a couple up here soon.