Adoptive parents say that when you decide to adopt, your life suddenly falls to pieces. They claim that the month you send in your application, you're very likely to discover that your car is dead, your dryer isn't working, or you're being audited on your taxes.
They might be onto something.
Last night I was in the kitchen making this super delish Chicken Tortilla Soup. The kids were bouncing around wildly, because that's what you do during the Just-Before-Dinner Witching Hour. (That is totally a real thing. I swear.) Suddenly I hear, "Please keep your arms and legs inside the ride." Hhhhhhmmmmm...my kids may or may not have spent too much time at Disneyl*nd, and this sounds dangerous.
I step into the living room to find Li'l Miss giving the boys rides down the stairs in a plastic tote. Honestly, it only looked semi-life threatening and I have some pretty good memories of sliding down the stairs as a kid, so I let them keep playing. Daddy came home, and I kept working on our yummy dinner.
A little while later, the happy sliding/giggling started to sound a bit more like a frat party. Daddy decided the stair rides needed to end before someone ended up crying, so he sent the kids into the play room...you know, so they'd be safer and all.
Unbeknownst to the grown-ups in the kitchen, our ever-so-creative kids don't need stairs for sliding. As I was stirring the soup, they were building this...
...the perfect run for this nifty little toboggan.
(As a side note, be proud of me. I was sssssoooooo tempted to straighten up just a little before taking these pictures. Now the whole world knows that every. single. room. in my house is covered in N*rf bullets.)
The one thing my little engineers failed to notice, was that their toboggan run ended here.
Ouch. Apparently Li'l Miss and Li'l Dude were slightly nervous about hopping in the plastic toboggan. Li'l Man, on the other hand, thought it was fantastic plan...until his forehead hit the bricks.
Then, this happened.
So...I spent the evening at the ER with my Li'l Man, instead of enjoying a giant pot of Pioneer Woman's deliciousness. It was sad. The hardest part was helping the nurses hold him down while the doctor did the stitches. They wrapped him in a big sheet so that he wouldn't grab at the needle. He was not. a. fan.
He screamed and screamed like he could feel every stitch, while I laid on his legs and tried to calm him down. I was pretty sure he was going to want nothing to do with me when the doctor was done, but I was wrong. As soon as he got himself untangled from that sheet, he lunged his sweaty little self right into my arms. Which was pretty awesome.
Two years ago, Li'l Man would have seen every adult in that room as someone to meet his needs. He would have asked any of them to feed him or hold him or lift him up to the drinking fountain. Last night he just wanted his mommy. Such a happy feeling.
Li'l Man is going to be fine. He pretty much forgot all about the stitch-induced torture as soon as the nurse told him he could take the empty syringes home to squirt in the bathtub. And he had definitely forgotten the horrific screaming by the time he was back home eating two big bowls of the soup he'd missed for dinner. Today he's banged up but much, much better.
(I think Daddy might have gone a little overboard on the re-bandaging.)
Last night I couldn't help thinking about how scared Li'l Man was in the hospital. I couldn't help feeling his little arms wrapped oh-so tightly around me. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like for him to get 87 numbing shots, or a CT scan, or stitches without his Mommy or Daddy right beside him.
And then it hit me. There's a little guy in Ch*na who has been on my mind for the past month. He's precious and adorable and way too tiny. This is Aaronz.
Aaronz has a broken heart. His heart is too broken to get his body the oxygen it needs. The doctors who examined him in Ch*na felt there was nothing they could do for him.
On Christmas Eve, our adoption agency received his medical file. They immediately fell in love with this sick little guy who weighed in at 12 pounds just before his first birthday.
Thankfully, the amazing ladies at our adoption agency are fighters. This little guy will never know how blessed to have them in his corner. They very quickly worked out a way for him to travel to a major city for further testing on his heart.
He he is, shortly after arriving for testing. (Can you handle the cuteness?)
This little guy took what was probably the longest trip he'd taken in his life. He arrived, extremely sick and weak, at an unfamiliar hospital. He had a heart cath and then possibly open heart surgery facing him in the next days and weeks.
And his caretakers declined to stay with him.
Everyone he knew left him.
I don't know the circumstances surrounding this decision. Maybe it was truly impossible for one of his nannies to stay. But regardless, this tiny boy was left in the hospital all by himself.
Thinking about this makes me want to puke. I was horrified by the thought of my four-year-old having to get a few stitches without me right beside him. Yet here is a very, very sick baby facing heart surgery all alone.
Our broken world is full of injustice. No child should ever celebrate a birthday or go off to kindergarten or have heart surgery alone.
Little Aaronz struggled after arriving in the hospital. His O2 stats got very scary. He was gray and on oxygen 24/7.
Amazingly, he stabilized and was able to have his heart cath. Even better than that, the doctors decided that his heart is operable! This sweet little guy is scheduled for major heart surgery this Friday. (For all you heart mamas and daddies, he's having the Glenn Procedure.)
The organization helping to sponsor Aaronz's care hired a nanny for him. He adores her. In fact, she reported that all he wants to do is eat while he's with her. That is awesome news. Grow, little guy, grow!
As happy as I am that Aaronz is not alone, he will be again soon. The woman holding him is a hired caretaker, not a forever mommy. Aaronz is still an orphan. He has no one who is truly there for him. No who is willing to stay for all the pain, all the surgeries, and all the stitches. He has no mama.
I hate that.
You and I, we can change this. We can pray for Aaronz, we can share his story, and - just maybe - one of us can be his mommy.
Adoption is not an easy road. It's unpredictable, heartbreakingly difficult, and full of the unexpected. (And it might cost you your 'fridge.) None of our adoptions have been easy. But they have all been worth it. 100% worth it. Because, at the end of this crazy journey, there is a child who will never again be alone.
(If you'd like more information about Aaronz, please comment here with your contact information. Don't worry, I won't publish any comments with personal information.)
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