A Rainbow and a Pot of Veggies

Douglas made this rainbow at school, and Micah and I both separately thought that it would be a perfect logo for something.  I think maybe it's a perfect logo for life.  And certainly for parenthood.  It's messy and a bit off-kilter sometimes.  It's not perfect or symmetrical or what you expect.  It's entirely outside the box.  Something you can't plan for or master or perfect.  But it is beautiful.  It is colorful and brings such joy and light and shakes things up all the time.  It makes things interesting.  It surprises you.  And, ultimately, it is TONS better this crooked, funky way than it ever would be the perfectly straight, in-the-lines, predictable way.

After two weeks of feeling like I was completely in a fog, I suddenly felt like myself again.  Things are still hectic around here and we're still majorly adjusting to this new life as a family of four.  But it's me adjusting, me experiencing the normal stress and ups and downs that come with such a life change.  Before, it felt like some other person had taken over my body.

That's how depression feels, in my opinion.  Like you are trapped inside and can't quite shake that super heavy thing that has taken over you.  It reminds me of one of the Spider Man movies (I know - you're laughing at me now) - maybe #3 - where that black tar stuff covers his body and he becomes this darker, totally different version of himself.  He's still in there, but the tarry crap has temporarily taken over.  I knew I was feeling depressed -  because I've dealt with depression before.  I felt like this time it was situational and that it would go away on its own.  I hoped it would.

Well, there was a vegetarian miracle.

My dad decided to do this diet called Eat to Live (at the risk of sounding condescending, I'm so proud of him for doing it.  I love him and therefore want him to be as healthy as he can be, so this step makes me very, very happy).  It involves eating tons (as much as you want) of fruits, veggies, and beans/legumes - a small amount of grains - and little to no animal products.  Micah and I are doing it to support him and also to detox our bodies after 8 weeks of eating badly after Timon was born.  We were eating whatever was easy and convenient rather than what would make us feel good and healthy. 

Well, I kid you not, within a day I felt a shift.  I'm not making this up.  I wasn't even expecting the diet to rid me of my depression.  I should have expected it to at least help because eating well ALWAYS improves our mental and emotional state, but I just hadn't even thought about it.  And suddenly, a day into it, it literally felt like this fog lifted off of me.  My sister said that she noticed there was more light in my eyes.  I'm back!  At first, I wasn't sure if it was the change in diet that had done the trick.  I wondered if it would continue or if this was a fluke.  Well, all I can say is that it's a week later and I'm still feeling great!  It feels so good to feel like myself again!!

For the record, I don't believe that diet changes can cure all depression.  Sometimes it is chemical and needs to be treated with medication in my opinion.  But in my case this time, I knew that it was situational and, as if turns out, dietary more than it was chemical.

If any of you are looking for a way to detox your body before the winter starts, check out Eat to Live by Dr. Fuhrman.  I don't necessarily agree with every single thing in his book (ie. I've read a lot about negative aspects of soy, but he's totally ok with soy), but any way of eating that is based largely on fruits and vegetables and beans is super good for you.  I've read other books that tout the benefits of animal products, while his talks about the major risks associated with eating them in even moderate quantities.  Like anything else in the health world, there are majorly conflicting opinions out there.  All you can do is make the best decision you can with the information that's available today.  The research he presents about the effects of eating so many animal products is very compelling and alarming.  Since Douglas and I can't have dairy and I can't eat much meat, it's an easy decision for us. 

It's a 6-week plan, and the author says that after you've done 6 weeks you'll look and feel so great that you'll change the way you eat for the long term.  We've done one week so far.  If any of you want to join us, let me know and we can trade recipe ideas, etc!  The book talks a lot about losing massive amounts of weight (like for people who weigh 300 lbs), but he also mentions that his approach works for any body type - the point ultimately is to, well, eat to live!  So, the idea is to eat in a healthy way that will give you energy and vitality and prevent many diseases.  Losing weight doesn't have to be your focus at all - it can just be detoxing the body and eating in a way that is extremely healthy for you.

All I can say is that Micah and I have both been shocked by our energy levels and the effects so far.

Yay! for having a life that's like a crazy, messy rainbow.  Yay! for eating food that helps us to really see and experience that brightness as much as humanly possible.

Douglas Turns 2!!

Three days after his first day of school, Douglas turned 2!  I can't believe he's a two-year-old already.  Actually, some of his recent behavior does smack of 2, so I guess I'm starting to believe it!

Micah's parents flew in from PA to celebrate Dougie's birthday and meet Timon.  I wanted to do a Curious George party, which I thought would be super easy, but it turns out that that's apparently SO last year, so no party stores had any decorations!  Linda, Micah's mom, jumped in with all her craftiness (as did Micah and his dad, Doug) and we all whipped up a George party in no time!

Linda had had the amazing idea of having a bunch of our family members in PA color George pictures, so we hung those up all along the window.  Cousins Brendan and Logan came over for the celebration wearing Curious George colors and carrying their Curious George stuffed animals. I love this photo because look at their faces...they're like, "Ah, MAN! I totally want a Fireman George like his!"

In the morning, Micah and I serenaded him with Happy Birthday and a huge heart-shaped pumpkin muffin.  A long, long time ago my parents started the tradition in my family of waking us up on Christmas morning (or coming into our bedrooms where we were anxiously waiting for them!) singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas with a glass of delicious OJ (sometimes fresh squeezed) in their hand.  Micah and I carried some version of that over to birthdays without ever even thinking about it.  It just feels like the way you're supposed to wake up on your birthday, I guess!


Grammy and Papap gave Douglas a tool bench which he thinks is pretty badass. He's so cute - he uses it not as a TOY but as a part of his life. He never just plays with it. He'll be going about his business and randomly decide that the high chair needs to be fixed, so he'll whisper to himself, "screw driver" and go get his screw driver or drill and put it right where screws actually go (or at least could go) and work away. Once he's fixed whatever needed fixing, he puts the tool back and goes on his merry way.

It is so much fun seeing Douglas with his grandparents. He freaking LOVES those people! All four of them!  Sadly, none of them live here in town, but even if he hasn't seen one of them in 6 months, his face still lights up when he sees them or hears about them. The second they arrive, it's see-ya-later-Mommy and HELLO Grammy and Papap/Pops!

And so it begins. Our little boy, Curious George himself, is two years old.  Bring it on, Terrible Twos! Just kidding.  Totally kidding.  I'm actually kindof terrified of you, T2s - take it easy on me, will you?!  Seriously.

Douglas Goes to School

Since Timon was born, we've experienced lots of milestones around here.

Douglas went to "school" for the first time ever at the beginning of September.

This is what his hair looked like when he woke up for his first day of school.  I laughed out loud when I walked into his bedroom that morning and saw this masterpiece.  NICE.

His teacher, Miss Sandy, LOVES him.  She said to me a few weeks ago, "He loves people so much, we have to watch him because he wants to go up to everyone and hug them, but sometimes he squeezes too hard!"  When he went through his hitting phase, I told him that we don't hit people, we give hugs and kisses.  So I think now when he's overly excited, he takes that energy and uses it to hug his little heart out instead of hitting.  That's improvement!  Now if we can just teach him that choke holds are not included in the hugging category.

This is what sweet Douglas Thomas looked like on his first day of school.

We ran in to Cousins in the parking lot. Words cannot describe the cuteness of the three of them traipsing across the parking lot with their lunch bags and backpacks ("pack pack" as Douglas calls it) in tow.

 

Douglas loves school. He has gym class and music class. His favorite part of the day is music class. When I ask him how his day was and if he sang any songs, his eyes instantly light up and he starts dancing in his car seat.

He loves it. I love it. Everybody wins!

Sleep Deprived

I wrote this post a week or so ago, but kept wanting to tweak it more before posting it.  I'm posting it as-is now because the feelings and emotions that the post describes are changing with time and I think it's important to be honest about them rather than waiting until they fade away.
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My dear friend said to me on the phone the other day - "It sounds on the blog like everything's going great!"  I laughed and said, "Well, you may have noticed that I haven't posted anything in a couple weeks!"  Her comment made me realize that I needed to post something now - while I'm struggling with adjusting to having two kids, feeling like I'm going crazy at times - instead of waiting until it blows over.

The thing is, I can be a negative person sometimes.  I used to be negative pretty much all the time until I discovered yoga, which made me a more open, light person.  And later, separate from yoga, I experienced a lot of healing in my life in general, which made me a more positive person.  But that old Eeyore voice tries to find its way back to me sometimes, and I don't want to spread that nastiness - that heavy, woe-is-me, life is out to get me, I'm a victim nastiness.  SO, when I'm feeling blah, I tend to get quieter on this blog sometimes because I don't want to pass blah on to you - there's already enough of that going around.

But what I sometimes forget is that there might be other people out there who are feeling the same way that I do and might be afraid to speak up.  And maybe me being honest about my crap will help them to find the voice to say that they are sad or overwhelmed or feel like they're in over their heads and failing.

So, let's just get it out there - I'm not sailing through this whole mom of 2 kids thing.

I'M FREAKING OUT!!!!  

My sweet Mom came to the rescue two weeks ago, so I have gotten lots of sleep and help and encouragement and I am now freaking out much less than I was.

But having two kids is HARD!!  Several friends who have lots of kids have said to me, "oh, yeah, going from one to two is the hardest - you just have to get through it."

I am tired.  And cranky.  I needs lots of sleep - I always have, and now I'm not afraid to say it.  The truth is, I really believe it's just how God made me.  So when my sleep is disrupted, I kind of fall apart.  Then add to that a crazy 2-year-old running all over the place (who quickly learned to take advantage of my weakness when I'm feeding Timon and can't do much about his sneaky antics).  And a tiny munchkin who had some massive digestive issues for the first 6 weeks that make him cry (REALLY LOUDLY) and made sleeping difficult for him.   Sometimes it feels like he's yelling AT me, even though I know he's really just trying to get some help and relief by using the only voice he has.  (Thankfully, we found a formula that works better for him, so he is a MUCH happier little man now).

I felt so guilty for having any negative feelings about having 2 kids because we wanted it so badly, we hoped for it, we prayed for it, we waited for it to happen.  And then it did, and I didn't feel like I had the right to complain.  But that's crap.  It's hard, and it's ok to say that.  I love Timon and I'm SO glad that he was born and that he's ours - period.  AND having another child is hard as hell sometimes.

It's hard to discipline Douglas when I'm feeding Timon or he's crying and Douglas is running away from me.  It's hard to do what Timon needs me to do to help him get to sleep when Douglas is in his high chair in the other room whining and crying for Mommy.  As a mom of more than one kid, my attention and my energy are now always being pulled in multiple directions.  And that's taking some serious adjustment.

When I get overwhelmed in life, I tend to shut down sometimes.  I start to feel like I'm floating, which is not a fun way to feel.

I'm attaching this picture because I think it captures how I've felt at times these past couple months.  I look so tired and spacey even though I'm trying to watch and be a part of things.  I didn't even know I was staring off in the distance until I saw this picture and thought, "wow, I look exhausted."

I think a large part of it is also that I am still recovering (and may be for a while) from the trauma of the adoption process.  It was extremely stressful, and many of the emotions were so complex and deep that my body physically didn't know how to let them out.  So, I did my best to be healthy about it - to talk about it, to allow the tears to come if or when they did, to accept where I was.  But I knew all along that I was stuffing a lot of it because I had to, there was no other way my body could deal with it at the time.  Eventually, as with all stuffed emotions, these things need to come up and out.

So for now I'm trying to just accept where I'm at.  Let go of the expectations I have of myself and Timon and Douglas and Micah and motherhood and whatever else I'm placing my own expectations on.  It's hard to do this because I want to be a kind, easy-going, non-screaming mom and person.  I don't want to have a tiny capacity for stress that translates to frequent outbursts or frustration when one thing doesn't go right or when things start to get crazy around here. 

All we can do is be where we are - in this moment.  I can't change the fact that I'm freaking out a lot of the time.  Or that I feel numb and blah and float-ey.  All I can do is nurture and care for myself in this time and let my body and heart do what they need to do.  All I can do is love and embrace Douglas and Timon for who they are today.  And love them the best way that I can today.

So, if you're reading this and you happen to be a mom who's freaking out and doesn't feel like you're "holding it together" right now, please know that you're not alone.  (Btw, what does "holding it together" even mean, anyway?!)  I believe that life is very hard a lot of the time but that it is also breathtakingly beautiful.  And, the truth is, when we bullshit and tell each other that everything's going perfectly and that we've got everything under control, we make each other feel more alone.

And the point is, we are never, ever alone.

TD, Part 4, Life at home

(Note: this post is a little behind - the pics in it are several weeks old, so Timon has grown (and is sleeping 7 hours straight at night! Yeah!)  But I still wanted to post it.  More updated pics and stories to come soon).

It was so wonderful going "home" from the hospital to my parents' house and being greeted by my mom, dad, brother, and sister-in-law.  They were all so thrilled and overjoyed to finally meet Timon.

My sweet niece, Elizabeth, took a second to warm up to the tiny bundle resting in her daddy's arms, but after staring at him quizzically for a few seconds, she touched his head gently and a huge grin spread across her face.  Welcome to the family, baby Timon!

Douglas was taking a nap when we got home, which was perfect.  When he woke up, Micah went up alone so that he could tell him that we were home before introducing him to his baby brother.  We expected uncertainty, displeasure, jealousy, something.  All we got was joy and love and preciousness.

I walked upstairs with Timon once Micah told me they were ready.  I put Timon in Micah's arms (Micah was holding Douglas already). 

The first words out of Dougie's mouth were "Mohn Nuggle," and he put his thumb in his mouth (he does this every time he intends to snuggle with something - a person, a stuffed animal, a soft blanket).  He reached out and layed his head on Timon's head for a good old fashioned Brother Snuggle. 

The next words were, "Mohn hug" followed by the biggest, sweetest bear hug you've ever seen (thumb still in his mouth). 

For several minutes this continued - in Micah's arms, on the couch, anywhere.  He just couldn't get close enough.  He just couldn't find enough ways to express his love for his baby brother who he seemed to already know.

As the days passed, we continued to expect some sign of displeasure at this new addition to our family.  It didn't come.  Of course, he gets sad at times that one of us can't pay attention to him, but to this day it hasn't been directed toward Timon.  Not that that day won't come or that it would be bad if it did, but it totally shocked us.  He shows such care and sensitivity to Timon.  We would tell him to say goodnight to Grammy and Pops and he would say "Mohn kiss" and go find his brother, nestled somewhere sleeping quietly, and give him a kiss on his head or just lay his head next to Timon's.

Even when we left my parents' house to come home, I thought Dougie would be like, "uh, this guy's great and all, but I thought he was staying here!!"  But he didn't even bat an eye.  He just pointed to Timon's car seat and said "Mohn's seat" - like he was saying, "yeah, Man, what took you so long!  We've been waiting for you to sit in this seat for what feels like forever!"

Our time in TX with the family was wonderful.

They were so welcoming and accommodating and helpful.  It was such a blessing to be with them and for them to get some time with Timon as a tiny baby.

We were greeted at home in Kansas by my sister and brother-in-law (Heather and Brian) and their two boys who were so excited to meet Timon (and see Dougie)!  They were waiting outside for us when we pulled up and Love Fest 2011 ensued.  The kids were all so excited to see each other.  They had decorated the inside of our house and had champagne waiting to be opened in celebration of this precious life entering the world and our family.

A few days later, my sweet friend Jenni threw a Sip And See party for us honoring Timon.  Heather and a couple other friends helped make it happen as well, and it was lovely.  Over 20 people came to meet Timon and welcome him.  There were champagne punch and dear friends and kids running around in the yard - it was perfect.  I, sadly, failed to take more than 2 pictures, so Timon will just have to believe me when I say that over 20 people showed up to meet him and welcome him and show him their love - because the 2 pictures I took were 1) before the party started and 2) after it was over.  Nice.  Hello, Mommy Brain - welcome.

Timon is one VERY loved little boy!!

We are settling into life with a newborn again.

It's not easy!  I think it's harder the second time in ways because you're busy with your toddler, too, and you also just don't quite have the same stamina that you once had.  We're tired.  And cranky.  Poor Douglas is like, "um, what happened to nice Mommy and Daddy?!"  But it's all good.  This time will give way to different, in some ways easier, times.  We will gradually learn how to decipher Timon's cries and how to know what he needs or wants - we will learn our new routine and our bodies will, hopefully, settle more gracefully into this season of sleepless nights and spitup-clad shoulders.  (One day, I spent half the day with spitup all over my shoulder before my mother-in-law noticed it while in the car on the way to run errands.  Meh.  What can you do?!).

See?  There, I did it.  My first poop/spitup reference.  You're welcome.

Texas was wonderful, but it is so great to be home.  This picture was taken the night we got home from Texas.  My first time reading books with our two precious boys in their room.  Douglas' choice - "Siempre te Querre" - "I'll Love you forever".

In the background is a Feeleez poster, and we love it.  Check out their site - they sell a few products, all with the intention of teaching Emotional Intelligence and helping children to understand their emotions and therefore become more empathetic little people.  At age 2 we're already looking at the fun little drawings with Douglas and saying, "do you see anyone up there who feels sad about getting hurt like you do?" or "How do you think this girl feels?"  I love it.

TD, Part 3, Nicole and Love

Nicole ended up seeing Timon several different times in the hospital.  She would text me or ask a nurse if she could see him and the nurse or I would wheel him down to her room.  She would spend some time with him and then the nurse or I would go and get him.  I will never know what took place in that room during those moments, but I am so very thankful that they got to share them.

I had a couple different conversations with Nicole in her room throughout those two days.  At one point we talked about his features and where they may have come from.  She has no idea where his dimple chin comes from.  She thinks his probable height comes from her brother and dad who are 6'4" and 6'5".  We smiled and laughed at his cute cheeks, his precious curly hair (she said her daughter's hair was similar at birth).  It felt so good to share that experience of looking at this child that we both love and discussing his preciousness.  She asked if I had seen his eyes open yet because she hadn't.

The next night (our last night in the hospital), when Timon was with her, she texted me a picture of him with his eyes open.  I wrote back, "YAY!  You're seeing his eyes open!"  She said, "Yes!  Please take care of him and keep him safe."  I promised that we would.  She said "Tell Micah to teach him the right way to be a man and respectful to women."  I teared up instantly.  I said, "He will.  He is the most respectful man I know.  He is truly an amazing man, and it's very important to him (and me) that he teach his sons how to be good men."  She said, "Ok.  I love you guys."  More tears.  I said, "We love you too, Nicole.  We are so very grateful for you and your love and courage and bravery."

I never in a million years thought she would tell us she loved us.  I had wanted to tell her that a couple different times but had chosen not to as I thought it would make her uncomfortable.  April (Douglas' birthmom) and I started telling each other that after the intensity of Douglas' birth, which we experienced together.  It is hard to explain the love that we as adoptive parents have been able to share with our sons' birth mothers.  It is very different from any love I've ever experienced.  Usually, when you love someone you know them well, you are comfortable around them.  This is someone we know very little about, and they know even less about us or our history.  It is someone with whom we share awkward moment after awkward, difficult, stressful moment.  There is nothing easy about this relationship, or comforting.  But we LOVE them.

It defies logic, really.  And it just hits you all of a sudden.  I didn't always feel love for either April or Nicole.  In fact, that sense of "wow, I really love this girl" didn't come until late in the game - either after the birth or, in Nicole's case, before the birth when my heart opened up to the truth that I wanted what was best for Timon and for her, not what I thought was best for me.  My compassion and respect for these women grew and grew.  And, ultimately, I think this kind of love is born from respect.  I witnessed what these women did, the agony and pain they went through to do what they knew was right.  And it amazes me and fills me with an incredible amount of respect for them.

I think most people (I'm pretty sure I used to feel this way) have a stigma about birthmoms.  Maybe that they are irresponsible or immature or weak - either for getting pregnant in the first place or for not being able to take care of their baby.  Even the language of "giving up your baby for adoption" shows this defeatist attitude of giving up.

Birth moms are the strongest people I have ever met - perhaps in other areas of their lives some of them might be weak and give up easily (who doesn't?), but in this experience of placing their child for adoption, entrusting them to another human being to raise and love and protect them - in this experience they are total superheros.  They are brave and resolute and strong and beautiful and courageous and heroic and selfless.

And they love these children.  Man, do they love them.

I think a lot of people mistakenly assume that birth moms don't love these babies and that's why they can do this, that somehow it shows a character flaw that they would do this.  No matter what anyone says, birth moms are bonded in ways with the child that they carried in their belly for 9 months.  Even if they are emotionally cut off and unaware, their heart doesn't lie - their body and their heart know that this love and this bond is there - and it is gut-wrenching for them to let go.

Maybe you have to be a first-hand witness to this amazing experience to really believe and know that birth moms truly and deeply love the children that they place for adoption...but it is something that I know with every ounce of my being.  I have seen it.  And seeing that and knowing that and watching these women make what is likely to be the hardest decision they will ever have to make has borne in me a profound respect unlike any I have ever felt for another human being, and a resulting love that defies all odds and looks nothing like any other love I have experienced in my life.

It amazes me beyond words that Nicole went through with this decision that she made.  She had no support, except for her friend Edith.  Her family was vehemently and vocally opposed to this decision.  I have zero doubt that she suffered immense consequences, and probably still is, from her family in the aftermath of this decision.  She was completely alone.  18 years old.  With very few resources or tools with which to deal with this experience.  And yet she did it.  She did it.  She continued to walk forward, with strength that could only come from the Spirit in her because it is superhuman.  She chose to experience immense pain and loss for the sake of this precious child whom she loves.  She chose to experience this pain in order to do what she felt in her heart was right and best for him.

And I love her for that.

And she chose us to be the parents.  And God chose us, too.  And I love them BOTH for that.

TD, Part 2, The Hospital

We arrived at the hospital around 9:15 a.m.  We found the maternity wing and the the nurse's station.  We talked to the head nurse, Melody.  I told her our names and that we were adopting a baby.  She said that Nicole was there and showed us where we could wait.  She told us that her C-section had been moved back to "11 ish" (with a chuckle that seemed to say "who knows when it will actually be?") because of an emergency C-section that morning.

We waited in two leather (ish) chairs right by a window just outside of the waiting room.  We are always drawn to natural light - it feels like life to me when we're in a sterile place like a hospital, so we were thrilled to get to spend our waiting time by this window.  It was a huge blessing that we were able to wait in our own little area instead of in the waiting room with everyone else where waiting families passed the time small-talking with each other - something that we weren't exactly in the mood for.

At one point, Nicole's friend, Edith, came out to see us (she is the friend who was with Nicole for the C-section).  She said that Nicole had wanted her to come and meet us.  She was very sweet and it was lovely to meet her.  She said Nicole wanted to see us, but not until after the C-section.  We were thrilled that she wanted to see us and that things seemed to still be on track even after the drama of the night before.

11:00 came and went.  12:00 came and went.  No word.  Looking back, the time actually went remarkably fast considering we had nothing to do but read (I brought a People magazine since I knew that my mind would be too distracted for anything but mindless reading), text message with people, and breathe.  We had no idea when we would get the news, so we didn't want to move from that place.  At one point, I put my ear phones in and listened to my Ipod (Adoption Mix 2011) to give me strength and courage...and to drown out the mind-numbing conversation about politics that was going on very loudly in the waiting room among strangers.

I figured the C-section wouldn't be at 11:00, but I assumed it would have started by 11:30 or 11:45 at the latest.  It was so strange wondering if Timon had been born and was crying or sleeping or eating somewhere in that hospital without us even knowing it.  And there were, of course, those moments when I thought, "Is this a bad sign?  Why is this taking so long?"

FINALLY, at about 1 pm, Edith came out to talk with us.  She still had her operation garb on - those white disposable pants and shirt and bonnet.  She brought a picture of Timon on her phone to show us - it was so amazing to know that he was born and to be able to see him, if even just on a cell phone!  She said Nicole would see us soon.  As we were talking to her, Melody came down the other hall toward us, motioning for us to come with her.

We left Edith and followed Melody to the nurse's station, where a tiny baby boy was resting in his little bassinet on wheels.  It was so surreal - I said, "is this him?!"...it was a strange way to see our son for the first time.  Melody's intention was to wheel Timon into a bonding room where we could sit and spend some time with him before they bathed him, etc...so there we were, with all the nurses around, seeing him for the first time while we were on the move to the bonding room.  It took Melody and the other nurse a minute to leave us alone in the room where we could finally pick him up and begin to take it all in.  We took a million pictures of both of us holding him. 

I sat in the rocker, holding him as closely as I possibly could, and sang to him.  It was all I knew to do.  I sang all the songs I could think of.  I just kept thinking, "we have no idea how long we get to be with him today, so I just have to take this in and enjoy every second and let him hear my voice."

Micah realized, as I was singing to Timon, that we were in the bereavement/bonding room where parents hold their children who are not going to make it for long.  There was a sign on the wall that said something like, "In our arms for a moment, in our hearts forever."  I couldn't help but have the fleeting thought - Please, God, don't let this be true for us.

About 15 minutes later, a nurse came in and said that Nicole wanted to see him (she hadn't seen him at all yet).  We were thrilled that she had decided to see him - we believe that it is best for her and for him and both of their healing for her to see him and have some time with him, even if just for a few minutes.  But it was of course hard to let him go.

A few minutes went by as we sat there in the room alone before Edith called me from Nicole's phone to say that Nicole wanted to see us.  Edith met us and led us to her room.  I realized within a few seconds that Nicole didn't know that we had already seen him - that in her mind she was presenting him to us for the first time.  I, very awkwardly, tried to express my excitement and awe and joy while also being authentic - I wanted her to get to experience this moment as if it were the first time I was seeing him even though it wasn't, but I also wasn't going to fake anything or lie.  After a few minutes of awkwardness and talking with her about how she was feeling etc, we told her to get some rest and asked her if she wanted us to leave him with her or to take him, and she said he could go with us.  We took him to the nurses' station where they told us it was time to bathe him and get him on a warming table to bring his temperature back up.

They assured us it would take at least a half hour, so we went as quickly as humanly possible to Chik Fil A for lunch where we inhaled some food and rushed back - if there was the chance to be with him even for a minute, we were not going to miss it!  It took a while longer than anticipated for him to be ready to leave the nursery, so we stood there, just like in the movies, with faces pressed against the glass, watching our baby boy as he laid under the warming light and as the nurse dressed him.

After what seemed like forever, Melody led us and Timon (whose bed on wheels was super loud, so you could hear us coming from a mile away) to a room where we would be able to stay for the duration of the two days.  We were so grateful to be able to stay there at the hospital with him.  The room was in a hall where babies in the NICU room in with the moms, which apparently is super rare, so there was literally no one else on our hall.

Our room had a big window that got direct afternoon sunlight.  There was a little couch under the window, and the window overlooked the hospital's meditation garden.  It was perfect.  We got settled in the room and then I promptly laid on the couch, Timon on my chest, and basked in the warmth and light of the sun, letting the tension and fear and anxiety of the day slowly unwind, loosen its grip on me and fall to the floor.

As we settled in, we tried to really settle while also remembering that it wasn't a guarantee that we would get to spend most of the time with Timon - we had no idea what Nicole would end up deciding about that.  I kept waiting for the other shoe to somehow drop.  For her to freak out, or for her to decide she wanted him with her the whole time, or for her family to come barreling down the hall yelling.  But it was quiet.  It was calm.  Hours passed as we rested, took pictures, held our son tightly - stared at his face and his little dimple chin and beautiful lips and dark, curly, soft-as-silk hair.  We marveled at how long his feet and fingers are and thought maybe he'll be tall like Douglas will likely be.

The nurses were lovely - all of them.  They were professional and didn't pry into our business or gossip or create drama.  You could tell that they were rooting for us.  The first nurse had two pictures of her children on the back side of her name badge and I noticed that her children were biracial.  The next nurse told us that she is Indian and was adopted in India as a child.  She spoke so highly of adoption, saying that she and her sister were both adopted and that she feels so lucky and blessed and thankful to be adopted and that she loves her parents so much.  It seemed like everyone we came in contact with had an adoption story.  I, of course, loved this and felt supported by it.  Micah, of course, thought it was obnoxious and wished people would stop going on and on about so-and-so who is adopted or so-and-so who is adopting etc, etc.  I think several of these conversations happened early in the morning when it was still pitch black outside and the nurses were checking on Timon - this probably didn't help Micah's appreciation of the chatty storytelling.

Firday afternoon, August 26th, the papers were signed and we were able to leave the hospital with our baby boy.

The entire hospital experience was amazingly smooth...amazingly smooth.  Micah and I both had no idea what to expect going into this time.  As you all know, we were just hoping her family wouldn't be there making things painful and more difficult.  In many ways we were expecting the worst.  Not only did her family not come to the hospital (she hadn't told them what hospital she was at) but also the entire experience was smooth.

Our experience at the hospital for Douglas' birth was very, very easy compared to many other adoptive situations.  Never in our wildest dreams did we imagine that this experience could be easier!!  But it was.  The other shoe never dropped.  It was smooth and easy and wonderful.  God completely and so far exceeded our expectations.  Completely blew us away.  I love when he surprises me like this.

More stories to come...