Back to School

Well... it has begun again. School started on Monday, and Bubba was actually excited (and a little anxious). He has the same teacher from last year, and several of his friends from last year have joined him as well. They are in the beautiful NEW Frisco Early Childhood Center, and he couldn't be happier. What can I say? The kid loves a routine!

The only frightening moment came when his bus didn't arrive on schedule. Already anxious about the bus ride, I had called the transportation department, checked in the office, and emailed his teacher earlier in the day... all to make sure he was to ride the bus and get off at our house. I was told that he should arrive at my doorstep at 11:15, but that didn't happen. At 11:30 I began to worry. Did he get on the wrong bus? Did they drop him at the wrong place?

So... I called transportation again. This time, I found out that the school let out 40 minutes late! Shoo! I tried to calm my nerves as I anxiously waited by the door. Finally the bus slowed to a halt right in front of our walk, and my big boy got off.

He had a fabulous first day and continues to have a great week. The bus was scary at first, but he is now getting used to it. Now, if I can just get Baby started to school before Peach arrives!

Home

Evander and I scurried around a tiny, humid hotel room trying desperately to get ourselves ready. Is a dress to much? Are sandals appropriate? The nervous energy in the room was enough to overtake even the most laid-back of individuals, and the unairconditioned room was starting to get to me. Only days before, I had run to the mall to pick out the perfect outfits for Evander, Bubba, and I, but, as I stared down at what was before me, nothing seemed to be the right fit. There was no time for changing, though. We had to be in the lobby in just a few moments. We dressed, double checked our documents, took a deep breath, and headed for the door.

Three years ago, on August 8, 2006, Evander, Bubba and I anxiously headed for the US Embassy in Guatemala City. A woman from the adoption agency met us, along with 3 other couples, in the lobby of the Westin Hotel. There she detailed exactly what would take place: we would wait to be called to the window; we would enter a room and be asked some questions; we would wait for our names to be called again; we would receive Bubba's visa. As we entered the Embassy, I immediately noticed that it was unairconditioned. Great! I was 2 months pregnant and wasn't sure if the pregnancy, the nervousness, or the lack of air was about to make me vomit.

As we approached the window to retrieve Bubba's visa, our final step, I could feel butterflies in my stomach. As the woman looked through our paperwork, she stopped and stared at one of the pages. "Oh no!" I instantly thought. We filled something out wrong, or they forgot to put the correct stamp on it. What is it? Will we get the visa? Please, please, let us take our baby home. Then, she raised her head and said "You were born in Birmingham, Alabama?" "Yes" I stammered. "Well... I'm originally from Alabama. My whole family lives there." she exclaimed.

I wanted to say, I'm sorry but I didn't hear what you just said because a load of bricks just fell off my shoulders. Instead I listened and smiled as she continued to talk about all the places I knew in Alabama, as she mindlessly stamped our papers and prepared Bubba's visa.

First class is something that Evander and I rarely, if ever, splurge on, but this was a special occasion. We wanted everything to be just perfect (or as perfect as possible). We quickly found our seats and, as I removed Bubba from the Baby Bjorn, we prayed for a good flight. It couldn't have been any better. Other couples were walking up and down the isles bouncing their babies and pleading for them to stop crying, but the three of us sat quietly, just taking one another in.

It is hard to believe that Bubba has been home for 3 years. While a lot of our journey with Bubba has been challenging for us, I would not take it back for anything in this world. This child was a gift from God and meant to be part of our family. Evander and I (and Baby) love him with all of our hearts.

*Note: Baby would be upset if I did not make very clear that she WAS THERE when we went to pick up Bubba in Guatemala. She was just snuggled in my belly!

Baby News

For the past week or so, I have been having regular contractions. Sometimes they are ten minutes apart for a few hours, and sometimes they are 6 minutes apart for several hours. Sitting down, standing up, drinking water, or lying down do not seem to help. For this reason, my OB decided I should have an ultrasound to make sure that everything is going ok. So... I hired a babysitter and headed to the doctor yesterday.

As I lay down on the table, millions of thoughts were running through my head. I had assured Evander and my mother that everything was fine, but, secretly, I wasn't so sure. Everything about this pregnancy has been different. I know it is #2, but something has just been a little off. I jokingly asked the ultrasound tech to make sure it was a girl, because I had some painting to do if not and tried to relax as she began.

She began by measuring my cervix, which was the main reason I was there (so I thought), and it was fine. Next, as she scanned over the baby's various organs and extremities I watched in awe. It always amazes me how the ultrasound is a tiny window into your baby's world. I watched as she sat with holding her head in her tiny hand, sticking her tongue in and out. I saw her "breathe" in and out and laughed as she put her hand in between the ultrasound and herself, blocking the view of the tech.

I immediately had two questions but I tried to wait until she was done. "Shouldn't the baby have flipped by now?" I asked. A breech baby has been my secret suspicion from the get-go but I refused to tell anyone my fear. People have a way of brushing it aside by saying "Oh it can still turn" or "My friend's baby didn't turn until she was in labor". I'd rather not hear someone's nonsense and chose instead to keep it to myself. My next question was "What is the weight estimate of the baby?"

As the nurse practitioner entered the room (my doctor was out for the day), she said "Well Donna... you've got a pretty big baby in there and a breech one at that." All of these things I knew and didn't need ultrasound to confirm, but now there was factual evidence. The baby is actually 5.7 lbs at 32.5 weeks. The practitioner went on to explain that, typically, babies grow 1/2 lb a week at this stage, and she does not believe the baby has room to turn. I am also measuring 34 1/2 weeks. Hhhmmm! I was not expecting what came next, however.

"So I will talk to Dr. Never In and see what she has to say, but I'm thinking you need to be induced or have a C-section no later than Sept. 15."

Okey, Dokey! Not exactly what I thought was coming, but it is do-able. So...now I will go back in 2 weeks to see if things are still the same (breech and gigantic). Assuming they are, I will be having this baby a few weeks early!

*For the sake of the blog, the baby will be called Peach. Having Baby and baby is a little confusing!

Blog Posts

I am obviously not doing a great job keeping up with the blog. I have begun to find that, while I have a lot to say and share, I simply do not have enough hours in the day to do it all. I will do the best I can to continue our blog, because I love doing it, but I cannot promise a weekly post. I imagine it will only get worse when Georgia arrives, but we will see. Thanks for understanding!

The Question

The Question that I had been waiting for finally arrived, and while I had been expecting it for some time, I was not quite prepared for it. I'm not sure that a parent can ever be truly prepared for these questions, but you simply do the best you can. You answer as honestly as possibly, while taking into consideration your own child, and hope that you said the right thing.
After completing Bubba's nap time routine (read a book, 1/2 cup of milk, sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, Rock-a-Bye Baby, ABC song, and say his prayers), he stopped drinking his milk and looked at me. I knew some sort of questions was brewing, but I wasn't sure what. Then he began:
"Baby grew in your tummy?"
"Yes."
"Baby was in your tummy, then Mommy and Daddy picked her up from the hospital?"
"Yes..." *This is when I figured it out!!
"Mommy and Daddy picked me up from Guatemala?"
"Yeesss..."
"Baby was in your tummy when Mommy and Daddy got on a plane and picked me up from my house at Guatemala?"
"Yes..."
Then there was a pause in the questioning. He looked at me with pleading eyes, as if to say "OK...I've got something going on in my brain but I can't figure out how to ask it."
So... I gave him a little help and said, "And you want to know when you were in Mommy's tummy?"
"YEAH!" he exclaimed, looking at me as if I had just read his mind.
"You didn't grow in Mommy's tummy. You grew in another lady's tummy until you were big enough to come out. Then Mommy and Daddy ("and Baby in your tummy" he interjected, predicting what I was about to say.) flew down to pick you up in Guatemala. We brought you back to live with us and be our little boy forever. Mommy and Daddy love you very much, and you will live with us forever."
"Yeah. OK!" he said. "Where are we going after nap?"
I laughed and knew I must have satisfied his curiosity because he was on to the next topic. I'm not sure that I answered his question in the way that I should have or the way that the experts suggest, but I did the best I could. Our goal is to be as open and honest with him as possible, but I also don't want to give too much information at such a young age. He now wants to watch a movie on Guatemala, so I am actively searching for him. This new baby has peaked his curiosity in adoption in ways that I never could have imagined. While I am thankful for the opportunity to talk with him about it, I am also nervous that I will say something wrong.

Kids Say the Funniest Things

Baby and Bubba have recently become very interested in boy and girl things. During commercials I always hear "Is that for girls?" or "That's not for boys!". They have started asking questions about what girls/boys have that the other may not, what boys/girls play with that the other should not, and what colors mean boy or girl. Bubba is also beginning to realize that certain names almost always indicate the gender of the person (ex: Emily = girl; Bob = boy), while Baby has focused on things that Mommies have/do that others do not.

This new-found interest has made Bubba and Baby pay close attention to strangers in public and has brought up many interesting conversations, thought-provoking questions, and publicly embarrassing comments. On our recent plane ride to Flagstaff, our children made the following comments to COMPLETE strangers:

- (To the man sitting next to me on the plane) "Hi! I'm Baby! When I was a baby I ate from my Mommy's boobies. What's your name?"

- (Bubba to Evander sitting down on the plane) "Daddy, that lady is REAL big!"

- (To the girl sitting next to me on plane home) "Oh... your toe nails are green! Can I get green toes?"

- (Bubba in airport) "Hey Mommy, boys don't wear earrings?" "No, boys don't wear earrings." "That man has earrings! (Pointing to an extremely large man) That man has 2 earrings! Why does he have earrings? Is he a girl?"

There have been many more comments made, but I won't continue. All I can say is thank goodness I'm not easily embarrassed!

Screaming Bubba

Our weekend was pretty much the same as usual. We ran some errands, went to the pool, folded laundry and just hung around the house. The only difference was in Bubba's nose. He awoke Friday with a funky nose. If you have children, you know what I mean! I knew what was ahead but I tried to blow it off. After all, I had just been to the pediatrician 5 days earlier and the pediatric ENT the day before.
On Saturday, the whole family ventured out to Target for a few forgotten items. While in the store, Bubba began hitting Baby in the cart. Baby sweetly said "Be nice, Bubba. Don't hit me!" But that didn't stop him. When Evander and I spoke to him, it didn't stop. So...I decided to remove him from the buggy and make him walk and hold my hand. Seconds after grabbing onto his tiny brown hand, he went limp and began screaming "DADDY!! DADDY!!" Evander was literally right beside us, but Bubba didn't care. He was screaming so loudly, I knew we had to leave the store.
So... 7 months pregnant me (if you haven't seen me lately, I'm much bigger than I was with Baby) proceeds to drag screaming-limp Bubba through the isles of Target and out the glass doors. All the while Bubba is screaming "Daddy! HELP! DADDY!! NNNOOO!!" Strangers are glancing in my direction, probably wondering if he is being abducted or just terrible! I rush him to the car, where he refuses to get in. Still screaming, I lift him into the car and hold him down with my elbow, so I can buckle the seat. I quickly slam and lock the door and hop into the passenger seat.
After throwing my head back into the seat rest, taking a gulp of water, and sighing deeply, I began to talk to him (more of a scream since he was still screaming). Soon I saw Evander and Baby bopping out of the store and silently thanked God. "What is HIS deal? One of these days someone is going to stop us or call the police!" Evander said as he slid into the car. I knew exactly what the problem was. Gauging from the recent outburst, I immediately diagnosed his funky nose as ear and sinus infection. These days, the only time Bubba acts like that anymore is when he is sick, and when he is sick, he usually has an ear and/or sinus infection.
As the pediatrician entered the room this morning, she said "What's going on with Bubba today?" and I said "He has a sinus infection and maybe an ear infection." After confirming our diagnosis, we left the doctor's office with an antibiotic prescription, 2 suckers, and countless germs that haven't popped up yet! Now we are trying to get Bubba feeling well before we fly on Wednesday morning. Keep your fingers crossed!