Crazy.
The past two weeks I've been a reminiscing basketcase.
Two things occurred to me:
1. My baby is no longer a baby.
2. He's been with me longer than he was in an orphanage, half of his life.
My big boy is growing like a weed. He's in the 60th percentiles for both weight and length. His head is off the charts, but what can I say? The boy has a big brain! He has eight teeth and is working on some molars. He tries to run (he gets momentum from the enormous noggin!). He will do anything for yogurt. He is trying new foods slowly. Not hating, but not loving either. He loves kids...all kids. He has a winning smile and a fake camera smile. They are both ridiculously adorable. He hates cold weather and wind. (Yay Chicago. lol) The only word he says consistently and discriminately is 'kitty-CAT'. (You would only know how much this irritates me if you knew how irritating my cat is.) Oh sure, he says other things and he jabbers on non-stop, but 'kitty-CAT' is the one he always goes back to. He has been pre-tantruming (think screaming in line at the grocery store). Yep, he's a
toddler!
I just want to add here that I am amazed. every. single. day. at this child. This baby that had so many concerned for his health. This baby that hardly grew for three months straight. This baby that had me thinking I needed to jump on a plane to make sure he was okay. This baby that worried people enough that four virtual strangers carried special formula in their suitcases just to make sure his brain would grow. This baby. This baby is a walking, talking, strong, smart, agile, and beautiful toddler. Amazed. And oh-so-thankful.
Also must add, that in all the celebration of Abel's first birthday, thoughts of his birth family are near. I don't for a second celebrate without a pang of grief, thinking about how his birth parents could be feeling now. I cried when he ate his birthday cake. Completely overwhelmed by emotion...what would he be doing now, who would he be with, what would life be like if his birth family had been able to parent. So heavy.
Goofy, camera smile--told you!
As all of you AP's know, the six month mark is THE mark. The one where you feel a little more comfortable evaluating how well this family thing is going. I have spent a lot of time remembering how I felt during those first weeks and months home. It was hard. Harder than I let on. I feel more comfortable saying it now since we are in a good place, but I regret not talking about it sooner, and with more honesty. Please do NOT get me wrong. We're good. He's good. But, I just want to be clear that infants experience trauma, too. Just because I 'got him young' doesn't mean he didn't have any trouble adjusting to life with me and didn't grieve.
He has made such progress ...he is social and dare-I-say well-adjusted. He loves day care, appears to be attaching to me appropriately, and is a generally pretty laid back kid. His smile really does make the world go 'round. Really.
All that to say, here we are and life is good. Six months in to our little family of two. I am still thankful every day and some days have to pinch myself to remind me that he is REALLY here. My life is so rich and blessed because of this boy and this process.
Addis Ababa, May 6 2010
Home, November 2010
