Birthday Thoughts

Today, or rather yesterday as I am beginning to write this in the wee hours of the morning, we celebrated Max's 5th birthday and his first birthday at home. We missed 3 birthdays...I can't believe it! We knew we would miss the first when he turned 2. We had hoped to be there before #3 and by #4 I figured it was best not to hope. Not that birthdays are that special to us, because they really aren't big deals in our family. But every birthday we missed was another reminder that he was getting older without us, he was changing and growing in a cold, lonely institution. When we traveled to pick him up some of our concerns were laid to rest, to a certain degree. He certainly wasn't lonely, and the orphanage, although lacking in toys and personal affects seemed nice and caring.

As this day wore on I was constantly drawn back to Max's birth mother. I have wondered why he was abandoned and if she really had planned to return for him as the paperwork indicated, but clearly never did, not even for one visit. Did she leave him because he was a mistake, maybe she couldn't afford him or was it because of his special needs? Had she known about his special needs before he was born would she have chosen another route? Might she have chosen to end the pregnancy? I will never have the answers to these questions, and honestly I rarely think about her. I know her name, I know where he was born and I even have an old address for her, but I don't spend much time on her. Today, though, I thought about her, I wondered if she was missing him on his birthday, or worried about him. I wondered if she would be amazed that he is now in the United States sitting in a Thai restaurant wondering what the nice Thai ladies were saying to him. His life is so drastically different; one she would not recognize.

My greater concern is my son. His heart, his life, his future. He will live everyday of his life with his special needs, on top of that he will live every day as a minority and as an adopted child. He has hurdles to over come. His needs aren't tucked away in a neat little package behind his clothes, the older he grows the more obvious his arms will become, so it seems to me anyway. He will always begin relationships, new situations, school with a deficit in that he will be judged first for his physical limitation or his dark skin, or even for having white parents, good or bad it will happen. I, as his mother, won't be able to walk the road ahead of him forever, I won't be able to protect him, explain for him or to him and try to make the world fair for him. Those are the thoughts that take more of my energy and time than thoughts about his birth mom.

When we decided to adopt we specifically chose a special needs child. We truly wanted to choose a child who might have trouble finding a family, but we also knew that we had to work within certain parameters because we have three other children and they need us to be available for them as well. A limb difference was one of the needs that seemed like a good fit for us and it has been. But saying all that we also knew there would be no quick fix for his arms, this was for a lifetime and we would have to deal with it. What has been a surprise for us, while we waited for him and since we have brought him home, is how easily he has fit in to our family, how much he desires to be one of us, and the fact that he would likely not have had trouble finding a family as there were rumors from the orphanage that other families were interested in him. That scared the life out of me!!!! I am so thankful that God chose us to be his family and not another, yet I know that He would have been right had He done what I consider the unthinkable.

Although charming and bright and utterly adorable Max still lives with his special needs, he always will. He will never have a normal left arm, nor a normal right arm for that matter. Everyday is a challenge, not always in a difficult way, but a challenge nonetheless. Everyday as his mother I am torn between forcing him to do things for himself and jumping in and doing for him. It's so hard to watch him struggle, but there's a greater picture to be seen. Even the simplest tasks, that other five year olds take for granted, like buttoning and pulling up their pants are difficult, sometimes impossible for Max. How hard do I push him to accomplish the things that are hard? How much do I do for him because he's sweating and there doesn't seem to be any change in whatever he is attempting to do? Every single day we are bombarded with these questions.

So on this birthday, actually, truly the day after now, I am so very grateful for all God has done in my life, in Max's life and in our family. Over the last 9 1/2 months we have learned so much about Max, about adding a family member to the family unit, about bonding, about institutional residue and about Max's skeletal issues. We have learned much, and have much to learn, about encouraging a child with differences and we are learning, hopefully, how not to completely frustrate him. While we waited for Max I read all I could find on limb differences and specifically the radial club hand, but there's no substitute for walking the road. There is really no way to know what to expect when you have a child with special needs until you actually have the child. Reading and preparing were good and right, but experience is the best teacher. If we adopt again I would probably be open to a wider spectrum of SN having walked through this with Max. I would never wish for any child to have any thing wrong with them, but in God's greatness He is able to work through all things and be glorified! What a blessing for us and for Max.