Tag Archives: love

Five Years of Forever Family

Five years.

In some ways the time has flown. There are moments when I feel like it has not been that long at all. And yet, there are also moments when it seems like Daniel has always been around.

Five years ago today, very early on a Saturday morning, we drove one last time to Solnetchko detsky dom. We changed our tiny little man’s clothes and said our good-byes. And 25 minutes later, we hopped in the van with our facilitator and her husband for the drive from Mariupol to Kyiv.

That’s a long drive in and of itself. But add in a very anxious and rambunctious child who had likely never been in a car for more than 30 minutes, and you can maybe begin to imagine the “fun” we had.

I add this next photo, knowing it is extremely blurry. But it was also a good image to represent that first day: a complete blur, with some of us forcing smiles and others showing our true feelings. Beauty all around us (the sunflowers were amazing). Success in that we were now holding our newest son in our arms. And yet, what you can’t see lying behind the cameraman was one of the nastiest black clouds I have ever seen in my life. Seriously, a fitting metaphor. For the day we were maneuvering, for the night that awaited us in Kyiv, and for some of the days ahead.

We endured the drive. It was long and exhausting. We got the boys back to the apartment in Kyiv and bathed them. Surely they would sleep well after such a tiring day. Right?

Right?

This was one of the many phases of that 9 hour
car ride: putting playing cards between your
toes & putting your feet on the window.

Nice thought anyway. William did crash quickly. Daniel did not. Everything was new and exciting and he did not want to miss a minute of it. Including running constantly, throwing things, eating anything in sight, and trying to stick his hands in the one oscillating fan we had (it was summer and it was HOT!). Zack slept with William and I took our new little man with me. I finally got him settled and he slept for probably 6 or 7 hours.

First night as a family of four

We made it through that first day and first night. Thanks to love. And through a long flight across the ocean with a little man breaking out in chicken pox. We made it through some rough first days and weeks. We made it through chicken pox, his first broken bone, six schools, moving to Canada, and then moving to Norway. Thanks to love.

Gotcha Day 2011 – one year home

Five years later. That first day still stands out vividly in my mind. Removing his clothes and giving him clothes that were just for him. Calling him by his new name. Attempting to calm him and console him as he physically rebelled against anything and everything that came his way. Watching the joy (and maybe a bit of apprehension!) of a big brother who finally had his little buddy with him.

Gotcha Day 2012 – two years home

God was good to us when he allowed us to bring each of our boys into our family. He was good to us when he walked us through every difficult step of their adoptions. He was good to us when things just seemed to fall into place. He was good to us when things seemed impossible. He was good to us in the good and the tough times. And He continues to be good to us, in all things. *Good does not mean easy. But knowing that He is with us and that we are never alone: that is a very good place to be.*

Gotcha Day 2013 – three years home

If you ever watch an adoption story unfold, you will see that it is really a redemption story. I don’t say this as a way to pat ourselves on the back, but simply as truth. Watching hope come into someone’s life is a beautiful thing. We saw it with our boys. We’ve seen it with the children of many friends who have adopted. Watching what love can do is exciting. And watching what love can endure is encouraging.

Gotcha Day 2014 – four years home

I’m thankful for the way that God built our family. It may not be traditional. And at times it is far from pretty. But it is always beautiful. Because it’s about love. And despite the obstacles and the difficulties, love wins.

Happy Gotcha Day to our loving, joyful, energetic Daniel!

One of my all-time favorite photos of Daniel, from 2011
 
1 Corinthians 13:7-10
(taken from The Message)
 

 

If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere.
So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.
Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Sweet Sixteen #happyanniversary

Sixteen years ago, I vowed to stand by his side, no matter what. What a ride is has been so far! I thank God for allowing me to wake up next to this man each morning.Happy anniversary to my best friend! What we have is what that lady in Hawaii would call “very rare,” 😉

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

19 Years Cancer Free

How did you spend your senior year of high school? I would imagine that most of you would say finishing projects, waiting on college acceptance letters, skipping a few classes, making memories with friends, and looking towards graduation and new chapters.

©Billy Howard Photography
(1994) from the art show & book
Angels & Monsters: A Child’s Eye View of Cancer
(find it HERE on Amazon)

That’s how I thought I’d spend my senior year, too. But sometimes life throws you a curve ball (for my European friends, it’s a baseball analogy for something difficult or tricky). And that’s exactly what happened to me.

It started with strange pains in my right leg/hip. Multiple doctor visits, blood work and a biopsy resulted in an appendectomy and exploratory abdominal surgery. Turns out, my appendix was fine. What didn’t seem fine was a lymph node the size of an egg. It was sent off for testing, but the results said it was benign.

That was October/November 1993. By January 1994, I was in excruciating pain. I couldn’t stand up straight unless I pulled my left leg up towards my chest. I was frequenting the chiropractor who, through x-rays, could see what he called a ‘gas pocket’. Most nights as my family slept, I would toss and turn, trying to make myself comfortable with stacks of pillows and piles of ibuprofen, or attempting to soak in a hot bath to relieve the pain.

©Billy Howard Photography
follow-up photo for the book
(@2001)

By the beginning of February, I found myself in the hospital with a diagnosis of Stage IV Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. That ‘gas pocket’ was a large tumor pressing on my spine.

And thus began my life of living with the C word: Cancer.

There were times where I laid in a drug-induced coma, the doctors telling my family that the chances were slim and they needed to pray. Sometimes it was because of the cancer. Other times it was because of a gram-negative infection or meningitis, brought on when my immune system had been weakened by the chemo.

But through it all, God gave me peace. Looking back, I can’t remember a single time that I thought I was going to die. I guess others must have thought it, but it never crossed my mind.

Yesterday, February 28, 2014, I celebrated 19 years since I finished chemo. 19 years since I was declared cancer-free. It hit me that more of my life has been as a cancer-survivor than not.

©Billy Howard Photography
Billy graciously took
family portraits when we
first brought William home
(2008)

During my treatment I was invited to participate in an art project, which was later turned into a book (Angels & Monsters: A Child’s Eye View of Cancer). In the project, I shared about a dream I had shortly after my diagnosis. You’ll have to read the book to get the whole story, but one of the lines I wrote at age 18 was “It then occurred to me that perhaps I hadn’t yet fulfilled all that God planned for me.”

I’m thankful that God chose to heal me this side of heaven. And thankful that all of this is part of my testimony. Thankful for the way he led me to a husband who loves me, even when I’m moody and difficult (I still blame that on the chemo side-effects!). Thankful for the way he built our family across continents. Thankful for the opportunity He has given us to work in a new country and culture. Thankful that He is patient with me when I don’t get it right.

Nineteen years later, I have so much to be thankful for. This anniversary reminded me of that, and reminded me not to forget the journey God has allowed me to take.

 

*Special thanks to my friend Billy Howard (Billy Howard Photography) for capturing some special milestones of my our journey. Billy, you and your camera are quite a pair!