I Just Saw Elina...

4/18/12

Today Rickson and I were taking a walk.  He loves to be in the stroller and walk around the neighborhood.  On our walk something made him laugh.  He looked up at me and put his hand over his mouth and laughed.  It took my breath away!  I just saw Elina!  In his eyes, in his laugh, in his expression… it was Elina.  I am so blessed to know his birth mother, to know her eyes, her laugh, her expression.  I am so blessed to see her in my son…

I will move...

I do not know if anyone reads my blog anymore.  But it brings me comfort to write.  I think that by now one would have expected me to have gone back to my “old self”, to have moved on.  But you can see from my blog posts that I am different inside.  Our adoption of Rickson and blending our family with that of Rickson’s birth family changed me in a way that has blessed me and has stayed with me in my heart and mind.  I will never be able to go back to the way it was.  I don’t think some people understand or think it should be this way.  It would be so much easier to just move on.  I do move on, but in a different way.  I move the way God is showing me.  I take with me what I learned and what I saw in the Marshall Islands and know I can do more.  I do not know what that is right now, but I am trying to be quiet and still and to listen.  God will show me. 

Last Sunday I had the pleasure of hearing Beth Guckenberger speak on adoption.  She has written a new book, “Tales of the Not Forgotten”.  As I read her book this week I wasn’t able to sleep.  I laid in my bed wrapped in my soft sheets and remembered the blog post I had written about Elina sleeping on the hard floor with no blanket, while I slept in my soft bed.  So this week as I tried to sleep I found myself in tears thinking of her and all she has taught me.  Elina faces trials every single day of her life.  But she has a strong faith. Her path of faith is a path of trials.  How can I not learn so much from that?

Today in church our pastor spoke about Moses and his trials.  He spoke of the faith of many and how it required them to move even when they weren’t comfortable, to move and be stretched.  So today I am ready to move.  I know the road ahead may not be easy.  I may question what God lays in front of me.  But I know God’s plan is perfect and He is able!  So I will move… I am blessed!

Tears...

Do you know we have been home for a year and a half? A year and a half…that is a long time. Yet, the tears still come. This Friday Elina called me at 8:00 am which is 1:00 am Saturday for her. I asked her why she wasn’t sleeping and she responded that she missed me and wanted to talk to me. In her sleepy hushed voice we talked and talked and talked. I love our talks. I guess talking to her today took me back to the Marshall Islands. I never know when it will hit me. I ended up sitting down tonight and reading this blog of those weeks a year and a half ago. As I came toward the conclusion of my time in RMI, the blog got rushed just as it happened in reality… the Visa paperwork came, we received word we were leaving in the morning, we spent our last moments together, we were rushed to the airport, we cried… and within no time at all Elina and I were separated by a vast ocean. And today, a year and a half later, that ocean still doesn’t feel any smaller. As I remember those first moments away from her, they feel like I am reliving them all over again. I miss this wonderful woman. Today when I talked to her I filled her in on Rickson’s 18-month checkup. I told her that he weighed 25 pounds. In her thick Marshallese accent she said “Wow…. I SO happy.” And she is. Oh, how I miss her…. my sweet, sweet Elina…

Understanding "Gotcha Day"

First family photo - moments after meeting Rickson for the very first time

The importance of Gotcha Day is not something that is often understood outside the world of adoption. But this is such an important event in the lives of those involved, that it should be. It is not some made up Hallmark Holiday, but a life changing event.

This past week I have found myself reliving moments from that week leading up to Gotcha Day one year ago....those moments when I was able to first meet my son. As these memories have overtaken me, I have been able to smile and realize that they are really not that different from those memories leading up to the first birthdday of a biological child. If you have had a biological child, you remember those moments when you were first in labor, how long you were in labor, the moment your child was first laid on your chest, the first time you held your baby and heard him cry, watching him look in your eyes for the very first time.

However, if you are an adoptive parent, you do not have memories of those first moments on your child's birthday. I was not with him to hear his first cry or feel him be laid on my chest. So Gotcha Day becomes that moment. I will never forget that moment... that life changing moment. I will never forget where I was or what I was wearing. Who I was with or what that day was like. Our pregnancy was our paperwork, homestudy and government setbacks. Our doctors visits were visits with social workers and lawyers. Our labor was a 16 hour plane ride to an island nation. Our story is like all adoptive parents, the only difference is the details.

The details for us were Chris recognizing our birthmother from her picture. The details were us immediately getting up from our seats in the hotel restaurant where we were having lunch and proceeding to her side. She was sitting in the hotel lobby where we were staying. The very first moment I saw Rickson, she was holding him in her arms and he was sleeping. The very first thought I had was "look at his hair!". It was all I could see, the very top of his head peaking out of her arms. As she saw us she smiled. I went to her and knelt by her side holding her hand. As she handed this beautiful sleeping baby to me, she pointed to me and looked at him and said "mama". I was his mama! I will never forget it. I held him and I got to feel him pressed to my chest. I got to feel his heart beat next to mine. I got to see him open his eyes and look straight in mine for the very first time. I got to hear him cry and comfort him. This may not have been his birthday, but it was his Gotcha Day. I will never forget the heartwrenching moments in court when the judge asked his birthmother if she understood what she was doing, if this was what she wanted, that she could never change her mind. I will never forget as the judge announced that Rickson Cade Herrell was now our son. We walked in carrying her child and we walked out carrying ours. So Gotcha Day is about so much more than a made up word. For adoptive families, it is our birth day. It is that life changing day when we become parents to our child.

So today as I am flooded with memories I say to my son, Happy Gotcha Day, Rickson Cade Herrell. I love you!

Not a Bad Day...

I am tired tonight and have been on my feet all day and running here and there with Rickson. He has been fussy the past two weeks, getting over an illness and figuring out it is more fun to walk and crawl than be held and contained. Tonight when he was fussy I stopped and remembered… this is not a bad day! This is nothing compared to what Elina goes through each and every day. Struggling to find food, not having had good water for days because of lack of rain, fighting illness with no healthcare, taking care of a large family with what little she has. I am blessed beyond measure. I don’t have bad days here. I get to experience a wonderful one year old baby becoming a child. I get to see him explore and learn. Each new phase is a learning process for all of us, but it is good. Elina and I are both children of God and we are held in the palm of His hands. There is some reason our lives are so different. But there is also a reason we have been brought together. So on this day I think of Elina and I think of my life. These are good days…

So, something happened on Rickson’s first birthday. For so long I have felt torn. I feel such loyalty and love for Elina. I feel such sadness and longing for her. I think of her so many times each day that I can’t even keep count. These are feelings that have never lessened and never will. These are the emotions that keep me close to her despite the 7000 miles of physical distance. But with that also came the challenge of finding a middle ground. How could I be so happy when she might be sad? How much of Rickson was lost in all that emotion?

As we were nearing his birthday and the days were getting closer and closer I thought of Elina more and more. I wondered if she was sad. How was she handling him being so far away? Was she okay? I just couldn’t imagine. As I talked to my friend in the Marshall Islands I was able to ask about Elina. How was she…really? Really, she asked? She is fine. She is so happy. His birthday is coming and she is excited. She is not sad. Not at all. She is happy he is with you.

Wow. What an enlightening moment. I finally really “got it”. Maybe it has to do with culture. Maybe it has to do with circumstance. But she is okay. I finally understood. SHE IS OKAY. And you know what? That means I can be too. As his birthday approached I felt a weight released. He is mine. He is my child. I love this little baby boy more than I ever could have imagined. And his birthmother? I love her just as much. Happy birthday baby Rickson. And Elina…thank you….

Meeting Marie...

One thing all adoptive parents will wonder when traveling to the RMI is will we meet the birth father?? Of course this question lingered in my thoughts as I met Elina and her children, but I wasn’t ready to ask about him, yet. After all, this is a maternal society and he might be in the picture and I just didn’t know about it. When the time was right I would ask.

Shortly after the adoption Elina gave me Rickson’s vaccination record. It was a small, yellow, water damaged piece of paper. On the front of the sheet it had two lines. One said mother and had Elina’s name. The other line said father and had one simple name… Marie. The name Marie was crossed out. I took the record and examined it back at the hotel. Did it really say Marie or was I reading it wrong? Had the water damage blurred the words and it was really a man’s name like Marty? Or could it be Marlin or Martin? Another adoptive mom and I studied it together. No, it was really Marie. Probably just another woman’s name from the hospital that had been crossed out and the form reused for Elina.

I really didn’t think about it again until a few days later when I went to Elina’s house. Chase and I got out of the car and walked up to her property. The door to her house was open and I watched a man inside making doughnuts. Upon seeing me, this man stepped halfway out of the door, keeping one eye on his cooking and the other on me. He had a cooking utensil in one hand and held his free hand out to me. Then with a giant Marshallese smile he said “Hi, I am Marie” (pronounced Maury - as in Povich).

He looked just like Rickson…