Friday, July 14, 2017

Going in Hope

I saw the looks. The raised brows. The jaw drops. Yes, I was returning to China for a mission trip with all 5 kids including my 3 year old immunocompromised child. And I was taking another high school student. So, in total it would be myself and 6 kids under the age of 16. All traveling to China, for nearly three weeks, to walk among the needs. It was not for a sightseeing tour, not that that would be a piece of cake either. It would be a working trip. A service trip. Hence, the reactions.

I have thought about what my reaction and thoughts would be if I were on the outside looking in at me and what I was doing. I suppose the questions would enter my mind. Why? Why travel with all of those kids? Wouldn't it be easier to leave the kids at home? Wouldn't more get accomplished without children present? What would possess someone to do this? Has she finally, once and for all, lost her mind?

For some of these questions, I cannot even give an answer. Well, maybe it's that I cannot give an answer that would satisfy the onlookers. Maybe it's that there is no logical answer as to how I CAN do this. Because it really is something beyond human which enables this type of work by a single mother of 5, along with all 5 kids and a bonus kid in tow. That is for certain. It is purely divine although even among some fellow believers it seems that this answer could continue to be resisted and/or questioned.

But then, then there is the evidence. The coming out of the haze of jet lag and looking at the images of what happened. The proof. Of what is happening when my eyes are not on them. This is so much more than me. It always has been. I do not have the control or the power to do what is being done in the lives of my girls. It's impossible and illogical.

The only answer I can give to the onlookers, and to myself, is that it is God doing this work in and through us. And that I will never have all of the answers as to why. We only say yes. And we go. He is doing all the rest.

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Two years of Hope

Two years ago today I raced half way across the world to a dying baby. Two.years. In some ways, I had no idea what I was doing. I knew I had to go. I just said yes, and went. Because I knew, I just knew, she did not deserve to be alone in her suffering. She deserved to be chosen. She deserved to be loved. No matter how many days on this earth she has.

In the two years she has been part of us, she has taught so much. I opened my hand to let go of so much, and my faith deepened in ways unimaginable. No longer could I depend on myself or my own competency. It was no longer enough. I had to rely on God. On His hope. And the #choosehope became our mantra.

She is a gift. She is a gift I wasn't expecting. She is a miracle witnessed by my own eyes, defying all odds and expectations.

So tonight, I listen to her steady breathing as she sleeps. I am reminded of all that we have experienced in the past two years. And I thank God. For all of it. For every single moment of it. Cherished moments.


Saturday, March 25, 2017

Choosing yes

Yesterday, the China adoption world was rocked by word of the loss of one of our own. Little Ivy Joy was a warrior in the true sense of the word. She was adopted by her amazing family just shy of her 2nd birthday with a very, very broken heart. Ivy sustained surgery after surgery at some of the top hospitals in the country to help fix her heart, including several surgeries at our Boston Children's Hospital. During one of Ivy's surgeries here in Boston, I was able to meet her mom whose very presence radiates His light and love. How lucky Ivy was to have this woman as her mother. Even luckier however, was Ivy's family to have Ivy. She deepened their faith, much like baby Hope has deepened my own faith, and brought such joy. When Ivy was adopted, her family let the world have a glimpse into what it was like to share life with this extraordinary child. Many of us, including my girls, prayed for Ivy when she was in the woods after surgeries. We all prayed praises as Ivy defeated odds and lived. The news of Ivy's unexpected passing has left many of us in the adoption community grieving right along with her shattered family right now. It has left me, once again, considering the power of adoption and life in this world.

You see, Ivy's family made a choice. They chose yes to a little girl who had a very broken little heart. They chose yes when they could have chosen no. In their choosing yes, the world was able to see the power, hope, and love of our very great God as He worked miracles through this very special warrior. Without her family's yes, Ivy may never have been known to this world. She certainly would not have survived in an orphanage in her condition. The world would not have seen this little child grow and thrive in her family as she did over the past 5 years. The world would have missed so much, if Ivy's family did not choose yes.

There are so many choices we can make in the course of a day. We can choose yes or no. And some of those choices can have have significant consequences. Life altering consequences. When I said yes to bringing home baby Hope, it was not expected that she would survive. Many times, others have said to me, that they could not have done what I did. I imagine Ivy's mom has likely heard the same. But the truth is, anyone could do what we have done. It just takes a yes instead of a no. That's what it comes down to, really. It is a choice. Yes or no.

Bringing Hope home was my first experience with saying yes to a situation close to death. I remember the thoughts that ran through my head. Thoughts that this baby deserved to have a family surround her if she were to die. Thoughts that she deserved to be loved for as long or as short as her days on earth are to be. These are truths. These are things that every person deserves. These thoughts overpowered the fears. Because, of course I was afraid. I imagine none of us enjoys going through grief and loss. It is not fun and yes I fear it sometimes. But, it is part of living. Really living.

Once Hope was in my arms, I remember telling one of my BFF's that I wasn't sure I could survive if something happened to her. Just like I wasn't sure I could survive if anything were to happen to any of my girls. The mere thought of losing any of them is too much to even consider. Because that is what love does. It creates a bond so strong that we don't ever want to lose anyone we love. We wonder how we will get through it. We pray to prolong time here in this world. But, the reality of life is that none of us will live forever on this earth. We receive no guarantee with any child, whether through birth or adoption, for longevity of life. None. Should the thought that we will experience profound loss paralyze any of us from saying yes? Will we let the reality of loss outweigh the gain of joy in this life? Especially with hundreds of thousands of children in orphanages or in foster care who are waiting for a yes?

Over the past 24 hours, I have thought how much I wish Ivy's time here on earth was longer. I do so wish that. And yet, along with that, I am so grateful that her family chose yes. Yes. Three letters that changed a family and a little girl's life forever. Three letters that changed the course of the world. Yes.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

The big three

It's a day we weren't supposed to see.
My miracle girl.
She is now three years old.
The little one who, back in 2014, was given only two months to live.
She defied the grim prognosis.
She defied the death sentence.
She defied logic.
She defied human understanding.
She is alive.
She is thriving.
She is chosen.
She is precious.
She is oh, so loved.

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Goodness overflowing

The goodness shown to my family over the past year is just staggering. Seriously. Not only have we been the recipients of goodness beyond measure, but it has continued on and on. Over and over. Tangible things. People are still delivering delicious meals. Several times a week.
A year of mortgage payments given and a friend fundraised enabling payment of other bills. Wonderful hand me downs have come in. Classroom extras paid for, all year long. Shopping sprees for the girls which included new bathing suits. Laundry detergent delivered. Laptop given. Professional family photos taken. School supplies came in. Air conditioner fixed. New flooring installed in living room. Grant given for the girls to go to after school and summer care. Christmas gifts given in overabundance, six months apart. Two GALLONS of salon hair products now occupy our bathroom, a first ever in this household. Diapers and wipes continue to come in. Goodness surrounds us to the brim and then gushes over. Again and again and again.

Several weeks ago, as I drove to church, I began to panic. I had looked at my bank account and figured out that we have months left to pay our bills. Thoughts raced through mind. Should I try to find work again? If so, who could care for Hope and manage the at least weekly trips to Children's for on-going medical care? Could I work from home? Or part time? Should I sell my condo and find a place to rent with the equity we might have? Which would not be much given that our condo would be sold as an affordable unit to the next lucky buyer. We came home from church, and as we sat at our dinner table I saw a familiar face outside our porch. She held a yellow envelope. And inside it was cash which would almost cover another month of our mortgage. Several days later, another check came from a high school student who decided to give her first ever working check to our family, which completed the mortgage payment. Then two days later, another check arrived to cover another month of our mortgage. I had not whispered a word of my panic to anyone. Not a word. Even my BFF's never knew what my thoughts were on that Sunday morning. Only God knew. Just God. The same God who works through people. It is just astounding. And a huge reminder that God knows EXACTLY what we need. Always. And the goodness is just overflowing and overflowing.

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Six month liverversary!

Six months ago today I walked into the OR at Boston Children's Hospital holding my youngest daughter. I held her hand as they placed the mask on her face waiting until she fell asleep before leaving. Whispering that it was ok, that I loved her and would see her when she woke up. That her new hero liver had arrived and she was in good hands. As I left that OR to begin the 10 hour wait for the surgery to be completed, I said prayers of thanksgiving that the day had arrived. That she had made it. That her miracle was literally unfolding before my eyes.

Entering the family waiting room on the third floor I saw eyes and faces that mirrored my own. Fear, joy, thanksgiving, hope. Over the hours, families began to dissipate, until late afternoon when there were just two of us left. The family sitting next to me was awaiting the completion of their son's brain surgery. A procedure to remove half of his brain in hopes of curing the deadly seizures that were racking his body day in and day out. We both experienced enormous sighs of relief when our children were finished around the same time. And were taken to the same ICU where we would rejoice at our mutual surgery successes. His mom and I checked in on each other until we were both moved to the regular floor on the same day several days later. It was nice to have someone who knew the exact emotions I felt, at times without either of us even saying a word.

Hope's team has characterized her post transplant course as "rough". They have met and decided that due to all of her complications we are not to go to do volunteer orphanage work in China this summer as we had hoped. Just this week, Hope's liver function tests are again worse. We are back to weekly labs under a very careful eye of our team. Thankfully, they were able to rule out PTLD in her tonsils and adenoids this week, a huge mercy. That said, PTLD continues to be a real risk and we are having bimonthly checks of her lymph nodes, which is one of the primary spots of manifestation. There are times when the worry tries to sneak in, and I must purposefully focus on Him and live in our now.

Looking at my baby girl, no one would ever suspect that this battle is being waged in her body. She is so happy. She loves life and energetically explores and interacts without a care in the world. She exudes joy and draws people in. She is a miracle, through and through. A miracle for the world to see. We cherish the gift of life our donor has given to my precious baby, and take not a second for granted. Though our "rough course" continues without any end in sight, I would not change a single minute of it. She is worth it. We are living life. And we are so grateful to be able to live it.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Yes in Hope

People should always come first. Before anything else. That is my hope to teach my children. Which is not an easy task in today's world when there are so many other distractions and the message the world sends is to ensure self comfort and a big nest egg. I can be just as easily distracted thinking about the things of this world, whether that is a 3 bedroom instead of our 2 bedroom home, a college education or weddings for my children, or a vacation. However, I know I am not to put my priorities in these things, so I try not to. And it is hard.

I learned a few months ago that orphanages are desperately awaiting our teachings. And that an orphanage with perhaps some of the poorest of poor conditions has asked us to come. It's a place we have never been, with over 300 children in care. As I thought about this and considered the last year of my life, I think many will feel I would be more than justified in saying no. I can actually hear the encouragement to say no. Perhaps some would even beg me to say no. The excuses I could provide would be valid....I have a child who has had a liver transplant and is immune compromised, I am unable to work right now and we are down to our final less than a year's worth of mortgage payment savings, I have already done "enough". As I dig deeper into those excuses, I find that all of them propose putting something else before people who wait for help, whether that be fear, money, or selfishness. People who are in need. People who are in need of skills and ideas that can be shared. People who need to know that they are loved and valued because they exist in this world. I would be a hypocrite to want to teach my children that people come before everything and then turn around and say no. So, we say yes being fully afraid.

It is easy to fall into the trap of believing that someone else will step up. That someone else will say yes. That someone else will go. That someone else is better equipped. That someone else has more skill. That someone else should do it....
These thoughts may lead to a type of stagnation, with no movement forward and no help given. So I am trying to teach my children to avoid this trap and say yes despite our shortcomings.

When we were going through Hope's transplant evaluation, time and time again we were told the whole purpose of organ transplant for a slowly dying child was to live. To give the chance of living. Not to give the chance of living in panic. Not to wait in fear for rejection or lymphoma. But to live. Live now. So we say yes to living in today.

Today, we prepare. Today, we hope. Today, we say "send us, we will go". Today, we say "yes, we are willing to be present for people". Today, we are willing to be hands and feet. Today, we say yes. Because people always come first. If I can teach my children this, there will be no better nest egg to leave them with.