Mother of Seven + 2

Dear Ryan, Another year has come and gone.  It is bittersweet for me because your years at home are approaching an end.  Each day that passes brings the day you'll leave home a little closer, and I want to hold onto each day just a bit longer. How well I remember the day you were born.  It was a hard labor.  The doctor sat beside me watching the monitor for many of the hours we were at the hospital.  I didn't realize this was unusual.   I also didn't know that there wasn't normally extra staff standing by in the room.  You were my first baby and I didn't know what to expect.  After you were born, I found out they had been prepared to do a C-section stat because your heart rate was dropping dangerously low during the contractions.  We were grateful to God that you arrived safely.  You were my biggest baby, weighing in at eight pounds even.  You were almost 23 inches long and your feet started out at a size 2.  Rapidly gaining weight, you never settled for doing

My precious Kayt, How well I remember the day you were born!  It's hard to believe it was 15 years ago on February 17. We arrived at the hospital about 12:45 p.m. on a Saturday morning.  You were born by about 2:30 p.m.  It was a quick labor and there was no time for an epidural.  You were beautiful with dark hair and pretty skin.  We were so thankful to have a little girl to go along with your big brother, Ryan. There were colicky days your first few months.  Your daddy would walk the floor with you between 8 and 11 each evening as you cried.  He always sang you the song, "You are My Sunshine."  Little did we know how you would grow up to bring so much sunshine into our lives. As a toddler you were spunky and full of life.  You always were expressive.  You didn't cry.  You had "sad drips."  Lasagna was like eating "slugs with sauce on them."  When you drooled in your sleep you said your mouth "was leaking."  And all yo

One of the hardest struggles I faced was with Michael.  He was so cute and charming with everyone else that it was hard for me to feel like I could reach out for help with what we dealt with at home.  I worried that if I shared, others would say things like, "That's how it is with adoption.  You just can't love another person's child like your own." And to be honest, I had begun to doubt my ability to truly love this little boy.  I was scared that they would be speaking truth.   Understanding Reactive Attachment Disorder became critical for our relationship to improve.  Children with RAD fail to make proper attachments for one reason or another.  For Mikey I think it was the perceived rejection by those closest to him that caused him to resist our love.  He had dealt with losing his biological parents.  Then he was in five foster homes before he came to us.  He had been told he was loved, and yet all of the sudden these people were no longer a part of his life.