These Hands

In less than two weeks, this very special handprint will forever change. These hands that at first had us wondering what help would be needed, what adaptations would need to be made, what limitations would be set, have since proven to be so very capable. You may have heard that ten fingers are overrated, and I have to agree.

A few moms of kids with limb differences have asked me in the past week or so how I'm feeling about this upcoming surgery. And my answer is the same to all of them: I feel weird. 

All of the specialists and therapists and professionals we have seen are so excited about the potential they see. There are growth plates in every bone, so once all surgeries are completed, if all goes well the separated fingers should grow proportionately to the hands. The right hand will have at least three full digits, including the thumb, and the left will have all five, albeit short, fingers. The tips will no longer turn blue because of lack of circulation. The scar tissue that's building up on one hand will be eliminated. When everything's said and done, the end result will give optimum use of each digit and both hands.

That's the clinical version. 

But why do I feel so weird? Maybe it's because I know how capable Judah is already. He requires no assistance with getting dressed, putting on shoes, using the bathroom, eating, holding a pen or crayon, setting or clearing a table, making a bed, or any number of things that those of us with ten fingers also do without thinking. He has never, ever let this stop him or hold him back. If you ask him for a high five, prepare to get knocked back a few steps because of the sheer power he puts into it. 

To hear things like "he shows so much potential" honestly makes me cringe, because to me, it almost sounds like his accomplishments are being downplayed, that his difference is a qualifier. I never want to minimize what he's already capable of. I never want my kids to be defined by their differences. 

This will be Judah's first surgery of an unknown number. His actual diagnosis is bilateral amniotic banding, or amniotic banding of both hands. His right hand will be operated on first, with outpatient occupational therapy for the next few months. His left hand will require multiple reconstructive surgeries, which we will schedule at a later date. Ironically, because when you're a medical mom, you think of strange things like Judah will have more surgeries before the age of five than Jordan will (Lord willing). 

The biggest reason I feel weird is I love his little hands. I love holding them, and how he holds mine back. And it hurts to know that he's going to be in pain, confused, and scared. It's common for kids who have surgeries such as these to be afraid of what their new normal looks like, and I don't want that for him. He's come so far from the boy who had to be carried into the house just six months ago, who wouldn't take off his shoes and stood in the corner, who just stared at me for weeks when we'd have one on one time. I don't want to think of the possibility of even an ounce of that regression. 

Because now? Judah is the heart of our family. He keeps us laughing, because have you ever met a three year old who can moonwalk? Exactly. He knows when to hug (and he gives good ones), he gives huge smacking kisses on your cheek and insists on a return, and smiling is his full time job. 

Yet, when we submitted our paperwork, Judah's Letter of Intent, we signed our names under these special promises: 

[Judah Lev's] medical care will remain our highest priority...in order for [Judah] to reach his highest potential. We, Derek and Mary, will love [Judah] as our own son. We will never mistreat, abuse, or abandon him. We promise to love him, care for him, and always provide for his needs. We are excited and eager to welcome [Judah] into our family and to provide a happy and loving home for him. 

And we will keep that promise. It is our joy and honor to help him reach his highest potential, and that potential is not defined by his physical differences but by how we raise him. Medically, physically, this is something we need to do because yes, it will benefit him in the long run. But emotionally? Spiritually? That's what counts the most. 

So yes, weird is how I'm feeling. Will you pray with us that Judah's surgery will go well, that his recovery will be easy, quick, and smooth, and that he will keep be-bopping his way through life?

Judah's surgery will be at Shriner's Hospitals for Children, St. Louis on October 2. I will be staying home with Jordan, who is starting school next week and for his own reasons needs to maintain a routine, while Derek travels with Judah. If you would like to follow along for Judah's surgery and recovery, you can do so here. As always, thank you for the prayers, love, care, and support you have shown our family in countless ways over the past two years. We appreciate it more than you'll know. 

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. Psalm 139:14-16

The Skin We're In

"Mom! Mom!! I'm in that movie!"

We were watching a short clip about Chinese culture a few weeks ago, and admittedly I was zoned out when suddenly I heard my oldest say he was in that movie. Before anyone jumps to the conclusion of negligent parenting and not screening what they watch, Derek and I had both watched the video previously and thought the boys might like it. They did like it (it was about food, after all)...but I can assure you, they also were not in it.

My son is three and a half, going on fifteen. I know I'm his mom, so there's a little bias, but sometimes he shows a maturity that I don't expect. He wasn't actually saying he was in the movie, but he was noticing that the people in the video looked like him, and that's how his three year old brain expressed that to us. Not having expected that comment, I simply said "No, you aren't in the movie, but the people in the movie are Chinese, just like you." End of story.

Since then, if someone is watching a clip on culture or looking at photos, both of the boys now ask "Is that me? Is that my brother?" and I know they know it's not them. Each time, I say "No, that man/woman/boy/girl is Chinese, just like you." And for a week or two, that was enough.

But like I said, my older son is very observant. He's starting to notice differences more than his brother, and it's just one more thing in a laundry list of items that have recently bothered him.

"Mom, are your eyes blue? What color are my eyes?"
"Mom, do I have a brave scar?"
"Mom, did I live in China?
"Mom, did you come get me?"

Three years ago, to prepare for international adoption, Derek and I took numerous required classes to equip us with answers for when these inevitable questions came. Some of the important takeaways were (1) to always be honest but also (2) to keep our answers age appropriate.

"Yes, my eyes are blue. Daddy's are light brown. Your eyes are dark brown. Judah's are dark brown."
"Yes, you have a brave scar."
"Yes, you were born in China."
"Yes, Mommy and Daddy flew in an airplane to China where you lived to bring you home with us."

The other important takeaway? To read between the lines.

"Mom, why am I different?"
"Mom, what happened to me?"
"Mom, why was I not with you?"
"Mom...you really love me?"

These. These are the real questions he's subconsciously asking and not even realizing it. He's only three and a half, but his brain is in overdrive trying to make sense of things that may never make sense. If you were to read a child psychology book about typical anxieties in children and the ages they start to present, these fears that he's displaying are above and beyond what he is capable of understanding at his age, which makes for even more fear and anxiety. 

And the answers? They change depending on what he needs. Sometimes the answers just mean extra play time or hugs. Sometimes we use simple picture books to help reinforce simple truths, like all the cool things skin can do and all the colors it comes in, or books that remind us that we're a family, and families stick together. And sometimes Derek and I know we are out of our realm of expertise and look to the professionals to help us help them. This has made us once again batten down the hatches a little, so to speak, to give him (and really both of them) time to adjust and find their footing.

Our boys have beautiful brown skin and the darkest, brightest eyes. One has a giant dimple and the other has the most mischievous grin. One has a brave scar with a unique heartbeat and the other has special and oh so very capable hands. Now, just now, they're starting to realize these differences...not in others, but in themselves. One little girl asked one of our boys what that thing was on his chest. A high five for the other turns into a fist bump, because the other has suddenly realized he can't open and close his hand. These were the moments as parents we knew were coming, but it still hurts to hear and see. Yet, when we hear answers simply stated like "my brave scar" and see the flash of a dimple when a fist bump turns into a super cool handshake...those are the moments we pray they remember: the victories in the differences.

Our boys need to be secure in their identity. Part of that is knowing their background, their history, their ethnicity and culture. However, a much bigger part of that is knowing where they fit in. That scary things can or have happened, but we, as their parents, will be there to help them to the best of our ability. That this family loves each other and celebrates all of our differences. That they will always, always be a part of this family.

That they can know that God gave them this skin they're in, that they will know who they are, and who loves them.

Yuán Fèn

Yuán Fèn: fate

When Derek was in country this last time adopting Judah, one of his guides explained the circumstances of his own birth, and how it was determined to be yuán fèn for him to be born. He explained that's why he loves what he does as a guide helping adoptive families, and that many people view the adoption of these children as yuán fèn/fate--or for a more accurate translation predestined by a supernatural power.

Now, I've asked a of couple people in order to fact check if yuán fèn is ever associated with adoption, and I've received mixed reviews. However, I can at least confirm that culturally, it's incredibly important. Fate is not a word we as Christians necessarily believe in, but predestined? That's a word we're familiar with. While the culture in our sons' country of birth does not acknowledge the Biblical meaning of the word predestination, it's an easy jump for us to accept that our sons were predestined to be ours by God, orchestrated before we could even begin to imagine.

We know a time is coming soon when we'll have to explain in a way for Jet and Jude to understand why they don't live with their China moms, also called their first families, meaning the families they were born to. Jet is already starting to make assumptions based on what he knows so far: he and Jude were born in China; therefore, babies come from China. We know the grieving and mourning and confusion that may, or most likely will, occur when they realize what adoption means. And we will never, ever take for granted the gift, the honor, of raising these two boys, and any more that come after, for however long God ordains.

When the time comes that they want or need to know their full stories, we will be ready to explain it to them. We do realize it's a bit of a stretch, using a word, a concept, that's culturally associated with fate and luck to explain they're exactly where God wants them to be; but what an amazing tool we have been given, to not only use this to explain their own adoptions, but also to use is to explain the mystery of the Gospel!

For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. --Romans 8:29-30

We don't know why we were chosen to be, or why these boys were chosen to call us Mom and Dad...but they were. We don't know why God chose us while we were yet sinners (Rom. 5: 6-8) to be justified, to be sanctified, and to be one day glorified as children of God. It's one of the greatest mysteries and, dare I say, most contested parts of the Bible, but it's something we believe with every fiber of our beings and are thankful for everyday--and praying for the days that Jet and Jude understand that they too can become children of God.

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. --John 1:12-13

Years before we even discussed adoption, I knew in my heart it was something I wanted to do-and thankfully Derek did too. For whatever reason, we never really pictured our own biological children or pursued it in depth. In my naivety, I may not have understood fully the concept of adoption until I read into these verses. We've done nothing for God to have chosen us as his sons and daughters, but praise God, we can call him Father because of His sacrificial love for us.

These boys are not biologically mine or Derek's, but through yuán fèn, fate, predestination...they are our children.

And they call me Mom.

"A child born to another woman calls me mommy. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege are not lost on me." -Jody Landers