Peace at Christmas

The gifts are bought or made, wrapped, tagged, and ribboned with love.  The tree is up and sparkling and beautiful.  I can’t wait until it gets dark to turn it on each night; I usually cave in about 4:00.  The beautiful cards and letters from family and friends all over the country are on display, bursting with news and greetings and love.  And most of them contain an extra handwritten note, just for us: “Enjoy your first Christmas with that sweet little girl.”

And I am, so, so, so much.  The lights twinkle a little brighter, the daily to-do list is more of a joy, less overwhelming.  The endless stream of Christmas music is slightly less annoying… coming from me, that’s BIG! The Christmas cards were SO MUCH FUN to make and send… the cards I’ve dreamed of sending for years.  Cards from the THREE of us.  Sigh.  Christmas 2012 is dreamy.

So why is that? I’ve been asking myself what it is about Elizabeth that makes this Christmas blow all the others out of the water.  She’s not old enough to enjoy destroying the kitchen making cutout cookies with me.  She can’t experience the twinkling lights.  She loves Christmas music, but then again, she loves all music.  She’s not too sure about opening her gifts; she’s a little uncertain about new, unfamiliar textures, and she can’t see that the paper she’s pulling off is revealing something new and exciting underneath.  The crinkly paper has a strange sound and feel to it.  Everybody’s cheering her on and she doesn’t understand why!

Most people understand that a child who can’t see with her eyes will “see” the world more clearly through her other senses than the rest of us will. Libby experiences much of her world through hearing and through touch.  It’s incredible the way she turns her EAR toward a new person entering the room, much like other children turn their head and stare.  I can’t begin to count the number of different ways I have seen her explore toys and textures through touch.  Those little hands tell a story.  A gentle, hesitant brush of the fingers when given a new object to play with.  Quickly the hands are drawn back into her lap while she processes what she just felt.  What must be running through her head? A quick swat at the toy again.  Is it still there? What can I make it do? A little smirk.  It’s still in the same spot.  It started singing to me.  Then, out of nowhere, BANG! Arms waving, little fists banging… how much noise can I make?

The natural tendency is to plop something new in her lap, grab her hands, and “help” her get used to it.  But we learned quickly that the only thing “force-feeding” does is scare her off.  She needs to experience new things on her own terms.  It would be like if someone grabbed your head and held your eyes open and forced you to stare at something new until they felt you’d spent enough time staring that you should be comfortable with it now.   She needs us to give her the freedom to “look away,” think about what she’s holding, and decide IF, and HOW she wants to play with it.  Much like any other kid :)

We’ve learned to take her by the hand, introduce new toys slowly, ask her permission to try something new “together,” and allow her to pull back if she needs to.  Then we try again slowly, again and again, until the new object is safe and familiar and comfortable, and she’s ready to learn on her own.

What a perfect picture that is of the past few years that Tim and I have experienced, and how God has patiently, graciously, SLOWLY fulfilled our dreams within the timeframe He knew was best for us.  What if He had just plopped His entire plan in our laps on June 10, 2006, the day we were married, and said “You will have a beautiful daughter… six years from now”?

What if He’d laid it all out there and told us the whole story in 2008, when we started to plan for and long for a child? “Guys, don’t get your hopes up, it’s still gonna be four long years.  Oh, and by the way, it’s not going to happen even remotely close to the way you’re thinking… start saving your pennies.  Adoption is your future."

 

What if He’d grabbed us by the hands and shown us the end of the story when our adoption journey began in March 2011? We were excited and relieved and joyful, but also overwhelmed and scared.  Could we have handled the whole truth even then? “Oh, by the way, all those questions about how open you want your adoption to be? Check yes, yes, and yes.  It doesn’t matter how scared you are, that’s the way it’s happening.  And don’t think for a second about any of those special needs on that four-page form that you have to assess what you can handle.  Again, just check yes.  Your daughter has needs that aren’t even on that form!”

Pretty sure that if, at any one of those big moments in my life, God had grabbed me by the hand and shown my all my future holds, I would have started screaming, just like Libby does when I force a new toy or food on her too quickly.  So why, why, why do I forget this lesson over and over again, and find myself demanding that God show me His plan NOW because I just can’t take it anymore? Sigh.  I never learn.

I’m so thankful to my gracious God for knowing and providing what I need WHEN I need it, just enough, never more than I can handle. He revealed his plan for children slowly in our lives, but piece by piece, we grew stronger and stronger, and He was merciful enough to hold pieces of the puzzle back until we were ready.  And now, I can stand back, at least for now, and look at the beautiful masterpiece He has created, and know that my heart is full and blessed and I am exactly where I need to be, because He has carried me there.  The little girl that was always meant to be mine… is mine! The “openness” of domestic adoption that once scared me out of my wits, has blossomed into a beautiful, supportive relationship with not one, but two new families.  The special needs we were once so concerned about as we checked off boxes of what we thought we could handle… we now know it doesn’t matter what we can handle.  All that matters is what God can handle, and He has given us strength and beautiful blessings through this little girl who “sees” with her hands and her ears.

THAT is what makes this Christmas so special.  All of you who keep telling me to “enjoy my first Christmas with Libby…” you’re right! She makes my heart full in ways it has never been.  She brings me peace.  The Redfield Family Journey has reached a little plateau for now… God has guided us to a “scenic overlook” in our lives.  We have the joy this Christmas to look back on the pain of Christmases past, and understand why they had to be that way.  Our hearts are peaceful and quiet, in a way they haven’t been for a while.  I’m sure the journey ahead won’t always be so flat and restful, but at this moment I’m thanking God for fulfilling my greatest NEED in sending His Son to be my Savior, my greatest DESIRE in sending Libby to be our daughter, and a beautiful, calm sense of peace… just in time for Christmas.

I pray and pray and pray for this peace for all my friends and family and all those around me.  Right now in this country, it’s really easy to pray for peace, because we all see the need so clearly, and at the same time it’s really, REALLY hard to pray for peace, but it seems impossible that it will ever come to soothe the broken hearts of the families of the Sandy Hook victims, and our nation as a whole.  I’m not going there tonight.  This little half a paragraph has me in tears already; I’m not ready.  I have so many thoughts on the situation I could write a book, yet it would never say enough.  But we CAN pray, and it WILL help.  I know the first night, the common thread on social media was “saying prayers” and “hugging your kids.” The next day, it seemed the common thread was mocking all the people who, the previous night, had talked about saying prayers and hugging their kids, because it “won’t do any good.” Well, anyone who’s made it this far along my journey, even to the end of this one post, knows my stance.  It WILL do good.  Pray continually – there’s nothing wrong with growing closer to your Savior through tragedy, and imploring His blessings upon those families and our broken nation.  Hug your babies – there’s nothing wrong with loving them a little stronger, bonding a little tighter when you are reminded how fragile life really is.  And enjoy the peace you have this Christmas.  It is absolutely okay to give thanks and appreciate what you have while you have it. 

Birthday Girl: 1

To my precious one-year-old,

Yup.  I’m already welling up.  That’s all it takes - “to my precious one-year-old” – and I’m done for. 

“One-year-old.” It can’t be true! It can’t have been more than I week since I first heard of you, can it? You were five months old at the time.  It was April and you were all smiles for your Nanny and Pops, growing and dancing and giggling and entertaining everyone you met.  And I fell head over heels for you the moment I first heard your name.  Elizabeth.  Oddly enough, the very, very first “girl name” your Daddy ever mentioned to me when we were dating and we would talk about getting married and having children. “I kind of like Elizabeth for a girl name, what do you think? It’s traditional but you can make lots of nicknames from it.  It’s a name you can grow with.”

April seems like just last week.  And May, the beautiful, blessed day I met you and held you close for the first time… that was just yesterday.  You were so small and so perfect.  I was amazed at how you warmed right up to me – or so I thought.  Turns out, you’re the most good-natured baby of all time, and you “warm up” to anyone.  As time has gone by and you’ve learned to need me and love me, you have TRULY warmed up to me: deep belly laughs and endless chatter and the silliest, sloppiest bubble-blowing noises. Ear-to-ear grins when you hear my voice; my heart just melts.

So if May was just yesterday… how can it be that you’re ONE already? You know who really can’t believe it? Your Nanny and Pops.  They SO wish they could be here to celebrate with us.  “Elizabeth,” they wrote in your birthday card, “From the first moment we held you, when you were only hours old, to our last breath on this world, we will love you and cherish you.  You are a special light in this world and anyone that has known you or will know you will be touched by you!” They took you home and turned their lives upside down for you, they named you and made you their own, they love you with all their hearts.  I bet this year has just flown by for them.

You know who else can’t believe it? Your beautiful birthmom and her family.  WOW, I bet they have a whole lot of memories from this day a year ago.  They, too, loved you the moment they saw you.  They say you were perfect, precious, a miracle of God.  It broke their hearts to kiss you goodbye and send you with Nanny and Pops, but they trusted in God’s plan for you… and for them… and look where that faith and trust has put us all today.  Daddy and I can’t imagine our lives without you, after five short little months having you home.  Your grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles love you so, so much, for all that you are, and all the joy and healing that you have brought to us.  We exchange pictures with Nanny and Pops almost every day, and your birth family are the founding members of your Facebook Fan Club.  All of this made possible by God’s grace in giving one brave girl the strength to choose life for you, and His mercy in using you to bring us all together as a big, beautiful, amazing SUPER-FAMILY.

“Precious.” Well, that part of it doesn’t need much explaining.  A picture is worth a thousand words, and since we’ve taken about a thousand precious pictures... you get the point.  But far more precious than a picture is to dance with you, to giggle with you, to sing with you, to rock you to sleep.  These are the moments I have dreamed of for years, some pretty big expectations, and you surpassed every one of them the first day I spent with you.  You are the very definition of precious: invaluable, irreplaceable, breathtaking.

“My.” Really it’s this, the second word, that had me welling up.  How amazing it is that I can call you mine! God is so, so, so good.  When I say I’d dreamed of you for years, that’s not entirely true.  I dreamed of a child to love and to hold and to care for.  But even my wildest dreams, I could never have imagined what it would be like to be your Mommy.  You are more than I ever knew was possible, more than I deserve, and more perfect for me and Daddy than any other baby out there… because you were made for us.  Designed by God to be the answer to our prayers and then some.  You challenge us in ways we never expected, you have shown us strength within ourselves we never knew we had, and you have taught us to love more deeply than we ever knew how before you came along. 

Most mamas have shared 21 months of love with their babies by the first birthday.  I’ve only had six and a half months since you entered my life.  And yet, my precious, one-year-old Libby, I love you with all my heart and soul.  All this after a few short months… how will I feel by your NEXT birthday, when I’ve truly had a full year with you? I think my heart might burst.  Most mamas have beautiful, priceless memories of the day their babies came into the world.  For the life of me, I can’t recall a thing about what I was doing on November 3, 2011.  We were going on a road trip the next day, so I assume I got gas and snacks and packed and called the hotel.  I didn’t make a bank deposit or use the debit card.  I didn’t post a single thing on facebook.  Sometimes I wish I could remember, but most of the time I’m so happy I can’t.  The fact that the day is not memorable to me is a symbol of a lot of my days before you… they were a big, blurred-together, wishing-for-you mess until the day you came into my life.  And what’s truly important is not what happened to me that day you drew your first breath, but what happened to the world and to all the people your life would touch.  You happened.

Thank you for being perfectly, beautifully, wonderfully you.  I love you, Pumpkin Pie.

Mommy

 

Mighty Fortress

Happy Reformation Day! “A mighty fortress is our God, a trusty shield and weapon.”  I love, love, LOVE singing this hymn in church, and I can’t wait until Sunday for our Reformation service to do just that.  Now, I know many of you have seen the pictures I posted on facebook today of our little Honey Bee (also known as Eliza-bee and Lib-bee).  And although the costumes are fun and the candy is right up there, too, I wanted to make sure everybody knows that I started my October 31 with grateful, prayerful thoughts about the blessings of the Lutheran Reformation… due in large part to the many of you posting songs and Scripture and your own devotional thoughts.  So thanks for turning the wheels in motion bright and early this morning and getting me thinking (and now blogging) about our God, our Mighty Fortress, for an appropriate amount of time BEFORE dressing up the cutest little bumblebee the world has ever seen and parading her around town :)

 

I love that Scripture paints so many different pictures of our God.  We follow Him as our Good Shepherd, we pray to Him as our Father and our dear Brother, we collapse into His loving embrace as our Gentle Savior.  And today especially, we praise and honor Him as our Mighty Fortress.  Not a blanket fort that can be quickly folded and put away.  Not a tree-house built of scraps and dreams.  Not even the strongest, most imposing of earthly castles, seemingly impenetrable in its prime, yet today abandoned, rickety, aging, empty.  We’re talking about an everlasting, all-powerful, never-failing God.

 

Early this morning a dear friend gave me some food for thought.  She asked me if I have ever really thought about what a BLESSING infertility has been and thanked God for the experience (she’s recently gone through quite the rigmarole herself). I thought and thought about it, and realized I haven’t.  My mind has acknowledged the beauty of God’s plan in bringing Libby to us, and I’ve thanked Him for the road we had to travel because I was able to support and be supported by some wonderful friends.  But actually THANKED Him for the very thing that tore me up inside for years and caused me so much hurt and shame?

 

It seems crazy.  It’s easy enough to do long after the fact, when we’ve had time to see The Plan unfold and our human minds now comprehend a teeny bit of the plan.  But while it’s going on? While we’re being barraged and assaulted, while the walls are crumbling around us?

 

Yep.  She was right. Because He is right.  Right and good and perfect. We’re instructed in His word to praise Him in all circumstances.  And that doesn’t mean just to praise Him DESPITE our struggles, for all the other blessings apparent in our life.  That means to look those trials straight in the face and say “THANK YOU, LORD,” whether or not you understand why you’re saying it. 

 

What is a fortress? The first and easiest answer that comes to mind is a structure of protection.  God gives many examples in His word and in our lives of how He protects us, and promises that He always will.  He does not promise that we will always understand His every call as our Commander in Chief.  Sometimes He does things to protect us and keep us close to Him that baffle us completely… we’re crushed by pain or hurt or grief and what the sinful world is doing TO us in this trial, rather than recognizing what our God may be doing FOR us through this trial.  But He never stops loving, protecting, and directing all things for our good.  He wraps His everlasting arms around us, mighty as the massive stone walls surrounding a fortress.

 

Life was never perfect inside the walls of those ancient structures, nor are our lives perfect, even with the love of our Lord wrapped around us.  Sin creeps into every corner.  Sometimes the greatest threat to the security of the fortress is internal.  History is full of accounts in which greed, anger, jealousy, or despair crumbled an empire from within, and the same things happen within us.  But he gives us the tools we need to protect the treasure of the faith He has begun in our hearts.

 

Alongside the pain and ugliness that resides within the fortress are some beautiful, wonderful blessings, as well.  A city of believers, full of praise and encouragement, knowing just the right thing to say, exactly what we need to hear.  A loving smile, a warm embrace, a promise that you will be lifted up in prayer.  As I live my life wrapped in God’s protecting arms, I’ve felt His love through my friends and family so many times and am SO THANKFUL that He has let them into my life.  And I cherish the opportunities I am given to be that person to someone else who needs it.

 

And what else does our God, our Mighty Fortress give to us? Yes, He is our “trusty shield,” but he’s also our “weapon.” He gives us both defense AND offense.  He doesn’t just place us His arms to lie still and let Him do all the heavy lifting.  He gives us weapons of our own through His word and sacrament: promises and reassurances and actual, historical accounts of how He has provided for centuries of believers before us.  We take those promises and hurl them at the world.  Occasionally we can zero straight in on our target, understanding perfectly how God will protect us and work for our good.  More often than not, we can’t get a good shot.  We close our eyes, draw back, and let our Savior’s arrow fly, not knowing where it will hit.  “I don’t know, God, HOW you are ever going to get me out of this one, or WHEN I will ever see the other side, but you promised me, you PROMISED, and I’m taking your word for it.”

 

And that’s what I’m determined to do better after talking with my friend this morning: hurl those arrows of God’s word blindly at my earthly troubles.  I don’t have to know where they’re going to hit, I only need to know that they will accomplish their purpose.  I look those trials straight in the face, I thank my Lord for any blessing He has designed here for me, and then I deliver the knock-out punch: God’s promise to ALWAYS work for the good of those who love Him.  Then I close my eyes and lean back on my Savior’s loving arms.  "On earth is not His equal."

 

 

And maybe I also think a bit about my Little Baby Bumblebee :)

Still the Same

 

Six months ago it was April 13, just after Easter.  The weather was damp and cool, the trees were bare, and the fields were dark, muddy brown.  We were both in pretty awesome shape, with a month to go until our spring races.  Blog posts were few and far between; I was busy, busy, busy and bored with waiting for news.  But when inspiration struck, and I could wrestle the computer away from Tim, I could sit in peace and quiet for two hours and whip one out.  We were excited for the next addition to our family: Tim’s sister was due to deliver our second nephew, Lucas, in about six weeks.  I was putting in way more hours than I wanted to at work, but in a week, I would be taking a Friday off and flying to Milwaukee to surprise family for a cousin’s baby shower.  I was big into flying away for quick weekends last spring; flights were cheaper than driving and it was such an easy way to get away by myself.  Tim and I were waiting every day for the phone call that might change our lives. 

 

It would come in three days.  April 16.  Yet another day on the calendar that will be special to Libby’s story.  Adopted kiddos get so many special days to celebrate… it’s wonderful.  Funny enough, April 16 was already a pretty great day in both our families, my dad’s birthday and Tim’s parents’ anniversary.  Now it’s extra-special.

 

Today it’s the middle of October, just after… Columbus Day, I guess.  The weather is cool and lovely, a relief after summer’s heat, but so very dry.  The trees are blazing red and gold and green, and the newly-harvested fields are flat and golden.  I’m in pretty awful shape :) My last race was that Half in May, I rocked over 20 minutes off my 2011 time - now I huff and puff my way through a 5k. Blog posts are still few and far between, because I’m busy, busy, busy.  Inspiration strikes often, but every time I get the computer all to myself, I can sit for about 10 minutes before Little Miss decides that Independent Time is over and it’s now Mommy Play Time (which is wonderful, I’m not complaining).  Sometimes it take me a week to write a post, bit by bit.  As it turns out, Lucas was not the next addition to our family, but he was close: born June 4, the day after we flew home from California with Libby.  I’m back to blissful part-time hours at work, and I have to enforce them strictly because daycare is now a factor.  Going away for a weekend is no longer quick, or easy, or by myself… and never on a plane.   SO MUCH has changed since the day that phone call came that changed our lives.

 

It’s pretty clear from my posts and my statuses and my tripled caffeine intake and the condition of my house and the fact that I wear a ponytail every. single. day that a lot has changed in the last six months.  Of course it has: we brought a baby into our home.  Even strangers in the grocery store smile knowingly when they admire her and guess her age and remember how drastically their lives changed when their first child was brought home.

 

So much is different now, that was no surprise. Of course I knew things would BE different.  The surprise plays out as we learn HOW things are different.  How we can function on three hours of sleep and how baby food is surprisingly delicious and how her laughing and singing and cooing and blowing bubbles can stop us in our tracks and dissolve us in giggles, far more riveting than anything we previously considered “entertainment.”

 

Another big surprise, though, is how certain things will never change.  Things I would have thought I wanted to change… now I’m starting to think it’s really okay that they stay the same.  Like my messy house.  I thought that the with change from working 32 hours a week to 20, my house would look great.  BAHAHAHAHA.  Cue the laughing moms.  Of COURSE it’s still a disaster.  Caring for Libby and carting her around from appointment to appointment, strapping and unstrapping the carseat over and over and over again, diaper breaks, pushing the cart a little slower when she falls asleep, and so much more that I’m not thinking of at this moment… all of that takes WAY more than my newfound 12 hours of “free” time from work.  So the house comes last, which really disappointed me at first.  And while I’ll admit that the messes still bring me to tears from time to time, I’m learning that the stacks of dishes and papers and laundry are signs that my life is full and blessed and beautiful.  I remember a wall hanging my mom had while we were growing up: “A spotless house is the sign of a dull woman.” It’s so hard to remember, and I’m sure I’ll lose it again soon, but I just need to count the blessings, not the “stuff” that’s out of place!

 

I thought I might be able to relax a little more during football season, gaining some perspective as a new parent and become a little more reasonable, less crazy of a Packer fan.  True, we WATCH football a little differently now: we DVR almost every game and end up starting late after a nap or errands or church activity (hence the absence of my gameday play-by-play facebook commentary, much to the relief of my non-Packer or non-football-fan friends). But once it’s on, it’s ON.  It’s more intense than ever, or maybe it just seems that way because the Pack is off to such a sputtering start this year.  I may not scream and yell as loud when Libby’s asleep, but as I sit on that couch and sweat it out, covering my eyes, heart racing, TOTALLY overreacting… I’m so happy it’s still the same.  I need that escape.  Newsflash: I KNOW that football is really not that big of a deal.  But there’s a lot going on in my world that IS a big deal, and it feels so wonderful for three hours (or an entire Sunday afternoon now that we have Sunday Ticket) to completely stress about something relatively insignificant.

 

Here’s something I once thought I might escape, forget, move past once “Future Baby” became a reality: the sting of the years and years that we waited for her.  The pain and the worry and the days of bitter jealousy and despair.  Having her here, home, REAL is the absolute joy of my life.  But she doesn’t “erase” the pain of the past few years.  And I’m realizing not only is that okay, it’s a HUGE blessing.  I always knew God had a reason and a plan in allowing those years of struggle, so it was silly and short-sighted for me to ever think those memories would fade away once our prayers got answered.  Those years served a purpose not only in bringing us together with the precious girl He intended to be ours, but also in learning from the journey itself, and helping others going through the same thing. 

Libby doesn’t bring hope and peace and joy to our family alone.  She, and others like her, are PROOF to those still waiting and hurting that God answers prayers and makes miracles happen.  I will never forget what we went through to bring her home, and I will NEVER stop “needing” the people who got me through it, because they truly understand the daily battles I once faced, and may face again one day.  Some of them are still waiting and struggling, and I continue to pray for them, to hope and to dream for them.  I learned and grew SO MUCH through the experience, and I can’t believe I ever, ever wanted it to all just go away.  Every tear we ever cried made Libby that much more precious.  Every second we waited made her more loved.  Every prayer we raised brought us closer to our Savior, and made it clearer and clearer that she is a Gift from above, nothing we could ever have imagined or believed or made happen on our own.

 

Certainly a lot has changed since April 16, and in three days our family will celebrate all those changes that took place since the day the phone rang and we first heard the name “Elizabeth.” But today (and tomorrow: Game Day) I am thanking and praising God for all the things that are still the same and will probably never change.  Especially His love and mercy.

Pumpkin Spice

It should come as no secret that I LOOOOOOVE fall.  The leaves changing color, the chill in the air, football starting up again, soups and roasts and yummy apple or pumpkin desserts… fall chills my hands and cheeks, and warms my heart.  Call me a weirdo, but I see summer as the season I have to “suffer through” to get to fall.  I hate, hate, hate being hot and sweaty and SO look forward to my favorite season, when I can layer up, rake leaves, and drink a Pumpkin Spice Latte once again.

Something about fall gives me butterflies of anticipation. Maybe I’m looking forward to the upcoming holidays, or the first beautiful snow of the year, I don’t know.  But the first few weeks of fall put a song in my heart and just make me feel giddy and hopeful and anxious… the “good” kind of anxious.  I find myself doing a lot of thinking and praying and dreaming about the future.

For the past few years, that season of autumn hopefulness was filled with thoughts of bringing a child into our family.  Someone else to bundle and cuddle and play in the leaves with.  In 2010, I distinctly remember my first Pumpkin Spice of the year being a “treat” to make myself feel better after a pretty awful hospital appointment, trying desperately to figure out the cause of infertility.  In 2011, my first Pumpkin Spice of the year wasn’t until November 1, the day we turned in our profile books and became a “Waiting Family,” I day I know I’ve talked about here before. Wow, what a difference a year had made.

In 2012, my first Pumpkin Spice was a treat from Dede, a “feel better” drink after her 49ers smashed my Packers the day before, as the four of us pushed Libby around the Mall of America in her stroller on a sunny Monday morning.  My, my how things have changed once again.

This fall, I am filled as always with hopes and dreams and butterflies.  I just love this season so much.  But how completely wonderful to finally hold that beautiful little person in my arms and know exactly who it is that I’ve been dreaming about.  To wish and pray about HER future now, not just mine.

I’d love to hear, what’s the season that gets YOU dreaming and hoping? Thinking back on the last few years, as your favorite season comes and goes, how wonderfully has your life changed? Enough about me :)

 

 

Loving Libby

I had the most lovely, lazy day on Wednesday.  I planned to get up at 6:30, but slept in until 7:15.  I planned to cook a big breakfast for our house guests, but instead I just made a pan of muffins.  I planned to work out, wash sheets, and balance the checkbook... yeah, none of that happened, either.  Pretty much, I made a couple meals, went to the grocery store, and spoiled Libby up the rest of the day.  Once 10:00 hit and I thought back on my day, I realized just how lazy it had been.  It was like a "sick day"!

Which I think is okay, really.  Wednesday was the first day we hadn't had company in over a week.  Now, living over six hours from either family, I LOVE company, don't get me wrong.  First we'd had one of my dear friends to visit for a few days, then Dede and Gene came for five.  And we had the most wonderful time being reunited, showing where we live and our day-to-day life, introducing our California "family" to Jimmy John's, Culver's, and Minnesota wine (lol). Although we were exhausted, I didn't need this lazy day to "recover" from HAVING company... I needed a day to heal my heart, which broke a little when they left.

Because I had just spent five days witnessing the MOST beautiful relationship: I got to see someone else loving my little girl as a mom and as a dad.  Not that her grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles and her extensive fan club don't love her, too, lots and lots and lots.  But there's nothing like the love a parent has for their child, and that's what she was to them for so many months.  You can't just hit the "off-switch" on that parent-child bond after seven months of having her rely on you for her every need, and loving her more and more each day. 

I can look at my mom or my grandma or my many friends who are moms and see the love in their eyes for their own children.  Now that I have my Libby, I've begun to understand just how deep that love flows.  But although certain parts of a "mother's love" apply across the board, other parts are different... because the child is different.  Some of the things you love about your child are different than the things I love about mine.  Each parent's love is unique, and probably a little different from child to child, too.  Not that any one mama loves her child more than the next mama does, that's not what I'm getting at.  It's just... different.  That's okay; in fact, it's beautiful.

So here's what makes Dede and Gene so special to us: we have a bond with them that so few other people will ever get to experience.  All FOUR of us love this ONE child as a parent... two couples experiencing the same love for the same child.  Because of this, the bond we have with them is extremely unique, a little weird, and completely beautiful.  Watching them stare at her with wonder and play with her for hours and laugh SO HARD at every little thing she does was simply amazing.  What a precious reminder of how blessed we are to have her

So when they left on Wednesday and I was faced with the choice between a week's worth of chores (because I'd been playing too much with my company and not cleaning up after myself :) or a lazy day to heal my heart and give hours of undivided attention to my little sweetie... I chose the sweetie.  They just couldn't get enough of her while they were here, and neither can I.  She is growing SO fast, and I just want to soak up every moment.  I can't even believe how much she had grown and changed in the three months since we left California and Dede and Gene said goodbye to us.  Now it's going to be another SEVEN months until we likely travel out in early April for our next visit.  I can't imagine how far she will have come by then.

 

It was so hard watching them pull out of the drive on Wednesday morning, simply because I truly understand how deeply they love her, and how hard these seven months will be for them.  We'll all be counting the days until our next visit, but until then, we made some truly precious memories this time around :)




Friday night we were "reunited" and they got to see just how big and strong she has gotten!

Saturday we went for a walk to the beach and to the apple orchard for lunch.  Then Saturday night Tim joined us for dinner (Libby asked to sit at the table) and a wine tasting.



Sunday we went to Hudson, WI so my parents could meet them.  Tim: "Don't get any closer in that jersey, you're jinxing us.  See? SEE? We're playing awful and it's all your fault, Gene."



Monday we took a walk along the river in Hudson, took them to the Mall of America, and came home for a follow-up visit with our adoption social worker.



Tuesday Tim and I both had to work, so they took Libby for the morning and checked out the little shops in Litchfield.  Later in the afternoon we all went to Libby's PT appointment together and then checked out downtown Hutchinson.



Wednesday was goodbye day! They got to see Libby's first session with her special ed teachers, and then they had to take off for the airport.

Summer of Doctors

I’m breathing a huge sigh of relief as I begin this post.  I’ve been waiting all summer to be able to write up a summary of our work so far with specialists, therapists, and other evaluations.  So this post means our crazy busy summer is winding down, and we can trade in our jam-packed high-speed appointment book for just a “busy” appointment book, and have more quiet days at home with nowhere to go.

 

I’m going to format this post a little differently than normal, being as factual as possible and trying to remove the emotional aspects, just because there is so much information to consider and I could seriously go on for days about everything we have learned and been through this summer.  So please know, as you read this, that I’m not in shock or denial or emotionless about any of it.  I’m sure you know us well enough to fill in the blanks of sadness, joy, and growing ever closer to our Savior through this crazy journey.

 

Right away at some of her first check-ups after birth, Libby’s pediatrician in California suspected a major vision problem.  At just over a month old, she was evaluated by an ophthalmologic specialist, who diagnosed her with Optic Nerve Hypoplasia (ONH).  Dr. Bothun, our new eye specialist here in Minnesota, described ONH as one of the most “bang-your-head-against-the-wall” conditions he treats.  It’s so frustrating because she has perfect, mechanically sound eyes, but a severely limited number of optic nerves to connect with the brain and finish the job.  Because it is a condition of the nerve and not the eye itself, there is no surgical correction.  ONH can, and often does, improve during the first 2-3 years of life, but the degree of improvement varies.

 The specialist in California advised Gene and Dede that the condition is often accompanied by hormone deficiencies, midline brain defects, and developmental delays, so they were encouraged to have an MRI of the brain, consult with an endocrinologist, and keep a close eye on her developmental milestones.

Although she had just had a six-month checkup a few weeks before, we took her in about a week after we got home in June (7 months old) to meet her new pediatrician, Dr. Erin, and set up our action plan for specialty care.  And what a plan we got! She told us she knew it was a lot and we could slow down at any time we felt too overwhelmed.  But she said, “I’m a big fan of hitting the ground running when kids have special needs, and establishing every possible connection early on, so that if you ever need it in the future you already have your ‘in.’” That made sense to us… so we began to attack the list:

1.       Physical therapy to help with an obvious torticollis issue and keep her gross motor skills on track

2.       Occupational therapy to continue developing fine motor skills, which are a little weaker, likely due to her vision

3.       Consult with a craniofacial specialist to evaluate concerns with the large flat spot to the right side of the head

4.       Consult with an endocrinologist to test hormone levels and check for deficiencies commonly associated with ONH

5.       Consult with an ophthalmologist to confirm ONH diagnosis and establish a baseline of visual ability

6.       Get an MRI to take a look at brain development, and to understand if poor vision has also been caused by anything neurological

7.       Get started on the evaluation process for Special Ed services through the school district, available year-round for kids birth-age three

8.       Get in touch with a County Public Health Nurse to make sure we understand all the resources available to assist us and Elizabeth

#8 was easy.  Dr. Erin actually had a county nurse call us right away; I think it was the next day already.  We got an appointment with her quickly and got more information than we could possibly use on what kinds of programs are available in our county.  One of the cool programs we got enrolled in sends us surveys every couple of months of all sorts of developmental milestones.  Not that every child is expected to “pass” every point of every survey for their age, since all kids develop differently, but after several months of surveys have been turned in, they can help us (and the rest of Libby’s team) to recognize patterns and make recommendations.

#3 was the first specialist appointment we had in the Twin Cities.  Dr. Erin had been concerned not only about Libby’s head shape and how it might affect her brain development, but also that her soft spot was a lot more closed that she would have liked for Libby’s age, and she wanted a second opinion on that.  Dr. Wood was the craniofacial specialist.  He first addressed the soft spot and thought that she should be fine.  He agreed with Dr. Erin that her head shape was pretty drastically flattened from one side to the other, and he advised us to have her fitted for a custom cranial cap that gradually rounds and re-shapes the skull.  Tim and I chose to delay that decision for a while, because he told us that the head shape would not impact the development of her brain in any way, and we wanted to try a couple different approaches before resorting to the cap.

#1 and #2 started right away in early July.  The primary concern for physical therapy right away was getting Libby comfortable with turning and tilting her head both ways, and using both sides of her body more equally.  She had been heavily favoring her right side, so the left side of her neck was pretty weak.  That alone had been a pretty significant factor in the development of the flat spot, since she always turned her head to one side when laying on her back.  They also began working on strengthening her sitting position and working toward being more comfortable in the four-point position for crawling.  In occupational therapy, they started working a lot with grasping, reaching, following sound, and overlapping PT a bit with the sitting and crawl positions.  Libby has made a lot of fantastic progress this summer with weekly visits for both kinds of therapy.  At times I have thought it to be overkill, since so many kids pick these things up on their own in the same amount of time it has taken her, without the help of therapists.  But then I remember what Dr. Erin said, that children with special needs can NEVER have too many people on their team and helping them along.  It never ceases to amaze me how much of what God created us to do is INSTINCTIVE and she just does it without ever having visually observed it, like smiling and chewing and pushing up on all fours.  At the same time, she does need a little extra push in some areas, like crawling.  Although it’s “fun” for her to experiment with pushing up and her body tells her that’s what it wants to do, she’s still lacking the visual motivation to turn that skill into movement or understand the purpose of travel.  She cries and cries when she’s “placed” in four-point rather than going there on her own, or when we (or the therapists) try to encourage crawling steps.  Well, I would cry, too… she must be so confused as to why all of us think this crawling thing is so great, when she’s so much more comfortable and secure on her tummy or back or sitting on her cute little bum.

On a side note, between PT work on her neck muscles and the chiropractic appointments we got her into right away, her head rounded out BEAUTIFULLY on its own within three weeks of the specialist telling us to fit her for a cap.  So it turns out that was a good call on our part to delay that treatment.  PT and OT still continue, although our schedule is lessening and we’re down to once every 2 weeks, so we just have one “type” of therapy each week.

#7, the Special Ed Eval, was the next thing we got going on.  I had actually gotten the ball rolling on that a little bit in May before we left for California, off a tip from one of our church members.  Later on in July, after things had begun to slow down a LITTLE bit at home (but not much), we started the process of having her evaluated for approval to receive special education services through the school district.  She was evaluated by the overall birth-age 3 teacher, who specializes in developmental assistance, as well as the birth-graduation vision teacher.  After a couple rounds of paperwork and several observation/interview visits in our home, we just went over our IFSP (Individual Family Service Plan) with them yesterday for the next year.  We’ll be having weekly visits with the vision teacher, and twice a month with the development teacher.  And the best part is, everything will be here at home until she’s three years old.  Aaaaah, this mama loves that idea after the summer we have had.  Therapy at home in my jammies with coffee? Yes, please! They have some great goals mapped out for her for the next year, and will be giving us lots of valuable help and ideas as far as modifications for setting up the house, mobility training, and general parenting considerations for a blind child.

#4, Endocrine Evaluation, got going at the end of July, back in the Cities again.  It wasn’t too long of a visit, since it was just a meet-and-greet with Libby’s new endocrine doctor, a quick physical examination, and then a blood draw to run labs and do a thorough check of hormone levels.  Most of her levels looked pretty good, but her thyroid level was low.  They had us start her on a ½ pill of the lowest dose of a common thyroid medication, and asked us to come back for an additional test of her adrenal gland to help determine if the thyroid medication dosage could be increased.  The doctor also asked us to have the MRI ASAP because she wanted to get a good look at the brain to check for common issues associated with ONH, and also see if her pituitary gland is fully formed.

So #6, back to the Cities a few weeks later for the MRI and the additional adrenal/thyroid test.  That was probably the most awful day we have had because it was so long and emotional.  She had to be sedated for the MRI, because the scan would take 45 minutes to an hour.  So we started the day by comforting our screaming, terrified baby as the nurses tried one, two, THREE times before getting a successful IV running.  The poor thing was so scared by the third time.  They finally got one strong enough to administer the sedation, but it would not be strong enough for the hormone test later on the on the day, so while she was under they did ANOTHER one; all in all that sweet baby got FIVE IV pokes that day and she still has a couple bruises almost three weeks later :(

The scan took about 45 minutes and then it took her about that long to wake up afterwards.  We got to feed her but we had to keep the two IV’s in so they could be used for the next test.  When she was awake and fed, we went upstairs to our own private room since the test would take a little over an hour.  What they had to do was give her the increased dosage of the medication through the IV, and then do five blood draws fifteen minutes apart to observe her cortisol levels and their reaction to the new dosage.  So in between blood draws we got to hold her and play with her, but those stupid needles had to stay in, and every fifteen minutes the nurse would come back and draw again.  We were SO glad when that day was over.



Daddy and Libby discuss the upcoming Packer season in between blood draws

The MRI did give us some new information about her brain that will be really useful to us as we move through the next few years and into her school years.  There are four areas of Libby’s brain that are either underdeveloped or completely missing.  As a result, we’re now on the lookout for specific delays, balance and coordination issues, possible learning disabilities, and we’ll have to keep a really close relationship with the endocrinologist because of some definite serious hormone issues, aside from the thyroid.  Again, all of these are things we’re on the “lookout” for, nothing that we KNOW she has or will ever have, just that she’s at risk.  So we pray, pray, and pray some more for our sweet, smiley girl who continues to grow and amaze us every day.  Since learning more about the specific parts of her brain that haven’t developed correctly, I’m so amazed at God’s creation that these teeny, tiny parts control SO MUCH, and at the same time that God has designed such an incredible system of checks and balances that when entire portions of the brain are MISSING, a child can continue to grow and develop at a seemingly normal rate.  Amazing.

If you’d like additional info on the specifics of the MRI, you can message me on facebook. We got a pretty short “report” from the doctor, so I did a little research and typed out an “extended version” (I’m sure you can imagine) for our immediate family, with my own commentary to keep things light :) I’d be happy to share if you’re interested.

So finally, to wrap up the endless summer of appointments, we completed #5, Ophthalmology Eval, this past Monday. It really was a nice, drama-free visit after the MRI we had just gotten :) They did a thorough eye exam with all kinds of lights and lenses, and agreed with the diagnosis of ONH that was originally given in December.  Dr. Bothun, who will be her eye doctor, only needs to see her annually for the time being, so that he can observe progress in her eyesight now that he has a baseline established in her chart.  He stated what we already knew, that her vision is extremely impaired with occasional, but inconsistent, reaction to bright lights.  He, too, stated that there can be improvement to the vision in early childhood, but starting with the level of impairment that she is, it likely won’t be much at all.  We can certainly continue to pray that God use Elizabeth to defy the odds and stump her doctors, but we also need to prepare ourselves for the strong possibility that she will never see.  Either way, God will use her as a beautiful, talented, amazing blessing for our family, His church, and everyone who knows her.

So! There you have it.  I know it’s a lot of information at once and I applaud anyone who actually made it through this whole thing in one sitting.  Even though the summer has totally flown by, we have had a full three months to establish all these contacts and process all this information.  We’re SO excited to be on a schedule now that is just the special ed teachers once a week, therapy once a week, and pediatrician/specialists occasionally and as needed.  What a relief! Maybe now I can finally clean my house like I’ve been wanting to ALL summer… well, I guess I better with weekly visits from the vision teacher here at home!

Again, please message me with any further questions you’d like to ask, either on facebook or e-mail me at megan.redfield.mr@gmail.com  I’m happy to share further details, but I wanted to keep it as short as possible (BAHAHAHA) for today.

To God be the glory, great things He has done!