Adopting the older child with medical needs

When we first discussed adoption, early in our marriage, older children was not a consideration, and definitely not children with serious medical issues. But our situation with Pipo fell into our laps. Or to be more accurate, came crashing in over our heads! We never really stopped to consider what we were getting into, or how it would affect our lives. That said, I wouldn’t have done it any other way.

Two years down the line I am amazed at the benefits I have seen of adopting an older child with medical issues. While we were waiting for Pipo to get here, I read everything I could get my hands on about adoption, including the books our social worker gave us. The one big word that kept popping up was ‘attachment’. I knew this was one of the biggest struggles with older children, but I was at least confident in what I had heard about Pipo’s past. He had had a loving family… a healthy start towards attachment. But even so, he was an almost 9 year old kid, being dropped into a foreign country with a bunch of strangers. Who knew if he would trust us, if he would like us, if he would ever begin to love us?

Almost immediately after his arrival, he was hospitalized. He was so sick and weak. I spent the entire week with him, and it was a long stressful event. Everything was new to him. As soon as we were admitted, we had to take an elevator up to the 7th floor. Fitz and I walked him onto it without even thinking. He flipped out. Completely. Screaming, crying, grabbing onto us for dear life. Thus began a week’s worth of elevator trips to different parts of the hospital for the many tests he would go through. And for every trip, I would have to sit on the floor of the elevator and hold him in a bear hug while he cried. Talk about forced trust.

As the week went on, each scary experience would have him turning to me more and more. With his limited English, he learned “Mama” very quickly, and yelled for me as soon as a nurse or doctor came near. I quickly became his strongest supporter, the one person he knew he could turn to. He trusted me.

Not that attachment happened overnight with that hospital stay, but it was a big leap we made there. A big step in the right direction. Once we were home, we settled into a routine of doctors visits and medications. He slowly started to get stronger and healthier. For him, this was a blatant, physical sign of our love for him. He knew he could trust us, knew we loved him because he could visibly see us taking care of him each and every day. In his Sunday school class this year, his teacher asked the kids to write notes thanking someone important in their lives. Pipo wrote a note to me and Fitz, starting right off with “thank you for taking care of me, thank you for giving me my medicine.” To a boy who spent much of his life sick, and in the hospital, this is a huge thing for him. Two people who care enough about him to make sure he gets well.

Even now that he is doing so much better, we have many trips into Boston to the different specialists he sees. Each of those trips averages 3 hours of travel time. 3 hours of one on one with me in a car. I worried that he would tire of these trips, but honestly he loves them. He loves the time alone, and loves the fact that he gets a lunch out with mom. We have so many great conversations on these trips. Some days he is telling me about his favorite TV shows, some days he tells me stories about school. And some days are more serious. He asks me why he is sick, why there is no cure for FSGS, why his mom had to die, why Haiti is so unsafe. I don’t have many answers for him, but together we try to figure them all out. He told me recently he wants to be a policeman, to help people. But he wants to go to Haiti and make things safe for people.

In a house with 7 kids, it could be easy to get lost. These trips to Boston are a guaranteed time for him to be heard, and I treasure them. For anyone considering adopting an older child with medical needs, please consider all these thoughts. It’s a beautiful thing. Our lives have changed because of one little boy. And any worries I had about his kidney disease affecting us… it has been the opposite. As much as I would like to make him well, to erase this sickness, and finally find a cure, FSGS has helped us in a strange way. It has showed him he can trust us, It has showed him we love him, and that we are in this for the long haul. And he’s right… this love is forever.

Supermom

Earlier today, I saw a young kid walking down the street towards our house. Nothing out of the ordinary... except that it's a school day, and school isn't out yet. I was cleaning in the kitchen, and could see him through the front window. As he got close to our house, the van in the driveway blocked my view of him. He didn't reappear on the side right away, which seemed odd... so I looked out there. Suddenly, the young punk starts to sprint past our house, with basketball in hand. Our basketball. I opened the door and yelled, but he was already around the corner.

I noticed the neighbor across the street backing out of her driveway and she pulled up and asked what that was all about. She had seen the boy running, and as he rounded the corner he hopped into a minivan that was parked there, and they drove off. I told her that in 10 years of living here that has never happened. Our front yard is always littered with bikes and toys, and never has anyone ever taken anything. I said if it was more than a beat up basketball, I would call the police, but it wasn't worth it. She drove off to run her errands.

Two minutes later, she comes to my door and tells me that there is a group of young guys playing ball down the street, and the same minivan is parked nearby. At this point, the 'mominator' in me kicks in... no young punk is stealing my kids' ball! I loaded Pipo (home today for a doctors visit) and Tommy into the van and drove down the street. I jumped out and walked right up to the court, asked the kid who had taken it to hand the ball over, and he looked at me like I was crazy. I said (with hands on hips) "Now listen, I saw you take the ball, I saw you get into that minivan, and my neighbor saw you as well. Why don't you just give me the ball back and thank me politely for driving over here instead of calling the police?" The kid still looked at me like I didn't know what I was talking about, but his friend smacked him in the head, apologized to me, and gave me the ball. With a smile, I hopped back in the van.

Pipo and Tommy were sitting in there wide eyed. "Mom," Pipo said, "those kids were big!" "Yep," I replied. "And there were four of them!" he exclaimed. "But it was our ball, Pipo." I told him. "They looked scared of you!" he said.

And that was the best lesson of the day. I said "Yep Pipo, it doesn't matter how big you get... Mom is always in charge."

Easter by the numbers

5 am wake up of kids

7 Easter baskets on the table

24 lbs of turkey

15 lbs of ham

43 people to eat ham and turkey

180 plastic eggs

18 children to find them

6 hours of guests

1 tired little boy

Happy Easter

Happy Easter from Fitzville!

This house...

With the construction going on around here, it makes me stop and think about our house. On yet another trip to Lowes today, I passed one of my favorite houses. It’s a big old Victorian with a wrap around porch a few towns over. It’s on a winding side road, very private with fields and and a big creek stretching behind it. I slow down every time I pass it. I admit it… I suffer from house lust.

I drive by slowly and imagine having enough bedrooms for all our kids. A dining room big enough to seat a huge crowd. The big wrap around porch to spend rainy days lazing on. Open fields and woods for the kids to explore for hours on end. Nooks and crannies everywhere for them to play hide and seek. In my mind, that house is a magical place, a place where everything would be just perfect.

I thought a lot about that house today, as I searched Lowes for more plumbing parts, and thought about it some more on the drive home. Tomorrow is Easter, and we are having a crowd over that seems to grow with every phone call. A house like that would be just perfect for gatherings like that.

As my mind wandered, I began thinking about our own little house, with the small bedrooms filled with bunk beds, the dining room that we all squeeze into on crowded Wednesday spaghetti nights, the little porch Fitz built me, just big enough for a swing. Suddenly, that other house isn’t looking so perfect anymore.

How quiet a house must be with so many bedrooms… could you still sit at the top of the stairs after you put them to bed and listen to the whispers and giggles that continue long after they should be sleeping? A large formal dining room would be lovely, but would it feel the same without kids piled like puppies, elbowing eachother until someone falls off a bench and the rest dissolve into laughter? Big airy front porches are beautiful, but what good is it if there are no neighbors close enough to call out to in the evenings as everyone gets home from work? And children running through fields is a pretty picture, but is is the same as kids running from house to house, gathing more kids for a backyard kickball game?

No… the magic is right where we are. This house is perfect. It has the only feature I could ever ask for, a large, open front door with a welcome mat that calls out to everyone.

Home Improvement Bonus

An added benefit to remodeling your bathroom... the box that large showers come in make for a great extra bed for several children!

Life in a construction zone

When your husband finally begins work on the bathroom he demolished 2 years ago, you don't complain when he sets up a circular saw in the middle of the living room. You don't even complain when you have to live for several days with only one toilet in the house... the house with 9 people living in it.