Pool Adventures

We belong to the best pool.  It's really more like a mini waterpark for kids.  There are a ton of slides, including a tunnel type slide that spirals, and a lot of things that spray, squirt, and dump water for the kids to play with.  (There are also super steep slides for adults...)  And the baby pool is really fun, too, with some mini slides and other fun equipment.  Matthew has so much fun at the pool and really loves all the water slides.  Of course, I can't get any pictures of him going down the bigger slides because I'm certain my camera would get wet.  There is a giant bucket (and I mean, giant) that dumps water over the play area every minute or so. It's impossible to play on the equipment without getting dumped on. I will say, that's a bit annoying.

Yesterday was Samuel's first time at the pool where he was awake.  He enjoyed sitting in the water with his dad.  We are looking forward to spending a lot of time at the pool this summer!  I am so thankful Matthew is fearless in the water, and even more thankful that a lot of the pool here is so shallow that Matthew can stand.  There is only one area that's to deep for him to stand, and that's not the area with the slides, which is helpful.  We're going to have to watch him when we go to Florida. He's going to run and jump in the pool faster than we can catch him.  We have him in swim lessons for the second summer, but of course he's not really capable of swimming by himself yet.

Waiting...

It has been so long since I gave an adoption update. I thought I would use some downtime during my call day to do it.

The reason I haven't said much is there isn't much to say.  Let's see.  Everyone asks when we will get our daughter.  We still don't know. Basically, when we sent in our dossier (which is basically the docs that register us with Russia) they said that for a young, healthy, girl, we should expect to wait 6-9 months for the first trip.  They told us at the time that this was usually a longer time period than what normally happened. In fact, when I was talking with the international coordinator at our agency (Building Blocks) she said that the longest they have had a family wait recently for a young girl was 7 months.  BUT...this was all before things in Russia slowed down due to political hesitancy with international adoptions. The crazy woman who adopted a boy without fully understanding the consequences of him having grown up in an orphanage and sent him back to Russia alone, with a note, has royally screwed up everything for the hundreds, if not thousands, of willing, excited, and realistic families who are trying to bring him a child to love.  Meanwhile there are thousands of kids in horrible orphanages who stays there are being needlessly prolonged. But, unfortunately, my opinion doesn't matter. Since then, things have slowed down.  Andrea, the international coordinator at Building Blocks said that things are moving, by more slowly.  However, she also said she expected our referral to still be in the 6-9 month time frame.  I don't know how she could possibly know that.  Maybe she does or maybe she is just trying to make me feel better.  I am more inclined to believe the latter, but I am hopeful that she is right.

We are coming up on 5 months of waiting. So we will see.  Tim and I are both hopeful we will get a call in August or September, but again, we just have no idea.  My life is definitely crazy enough now and I am enjoying having 2 kids, so I am not necessarily sitting around every moment in agony waiting to add another child to my family.  However, I have begun to anticipate our daughter and I do hope they call in the next few months. I cannot imagine the torture that this waiting period must be for families who have no children and are waiting for an adopted child.

The other news is that Russia recently changed their laws (who said they could do that?) and they now require 3, one week trips to Russia instead of 2 trips, one longer and one shorter.  We are less than thrilled with this change because we are going to have to spend thousands and thousands (and thousands?) of dollars more to buy plane tickets for a third trip not to mention all those painful hours sitting on planes.  We are still trying to figure out what to do with the kids during these trips.  We are not allowed to bring the kids into the orphanage, so if we bring them (or even just Samuel) we require very generous babysitters to join us on our international excursion.  I am definitely planning on bringing the whole family for the last trip, when we pick her up, and I'd like to bring Samuel for the first trip, also, since I will most definitely still be nursing him.  But a billion hours on a plane is a lot for me, let alone my infant or my (very) active 2 1/2 year old or 3 year old.

So that's all for now. We are planning on going to a picnic in the northern part of Ohio that our adoption agency holds in a few weeks.  We are hoping to meet a lot of families who have adopted from Russia (and more importantly meet their children).  We sure could use some stories, advice, and some first hand look at the kids that have been adopted. We are excited for our mini vacation (swimming, playgrounds, and a trip to the zoo!)  We will have more to say after the trip.

Two Months Old!

First, sorry for a 2 month post at 2.5 months. It took me uploading a blog app on my phone to get pictures into this post. Here is what I wrote:

For my Mother's Day present, Samuel turned 2 months old.  My goodness, little guy, stop growing!

He is the sweetest, most awesome little baby.  He hardly cries.  The only times he cries are if he is hungry, wants his pacifier, or is tired.  He'll just play on his mat or sit in his chair and look around. It's so easy to forget he is there, especially with Matthew dominating the house.  Yesterday we had our 14 and 15 year old babysitters come over to watch Matthew while we went for our Saturday long run and this time I left Samuel with them, also.  Who leaves their 2 month old baby with a 14 year old? Well, he is just such a good baby they had no trouble. He didn't cry for the whole 2 hours. He just looked around and eventually fell asleep.

His latest trick is that he now smiles.  I am trying to see if he will cooperate and smile at the camera.  I had forgotten how sweet their little smiles are and how they make you feel like you're doing something right.

He continues to eat quite well and his sleeping has improved dramatically.  He sleeps through the night pretty much regularly.  For the record, however, I do not.  My milk supply is out of control and I wake up in the middle of the night to pump (I tell myself it's worth it to stock up our deep freeze).  If he sleeps past 7 in the morning (on Saturday and Sunday mornings he slept till about 8:30 or 9:00 after having gone to bed at 11....) I have to give in and just pump all my milk out--about 12 or 13 ounces.  Luckily, he'll take a bottle, though he only eats about half of what I pumped.  So, basically, I have enough milk to feed twins.  I am very grateful to have this "problem" and so I'm not really trying to cut back the supply (yet).  I'll give it several months like I did with Matthew before I attempt to reign it in.

Samuel went to the doctor for his 2 month check up.  Of course, he was upset greatly by getting shot 3 times, but other than that he says it wasn't so bad.  He weighs 11 pounds 3 oz (35%) and is 23 inches long (51%).  The doctor's office measured him at 20 inches when he was at the doctors office at 3 days old and not 22 inches like the hospital, so I'm not sure who is wrong. I suppose I should measure him myself to see.  He seems quite long to me.

It's amazing to me how different I can already tell my children are.  When I put Matthew on his tummy he would always push up and lift his head.  He rolled over for the first time on his 2 month birthday (this trend continued, he walked at 10 months and now throws a ball as well as his 4 year old cousin).  Samuel just sits there like a sack of potatoes and roots around for something to suck on.  He isn't too thrilled with picking his head up off the mat, though I know he can do it.  Matthew is quite the athlete, so maybe this means Samuel will be different.  Who knows. We are working on more tummy time to encourage him to use his neck.  He can hold it up pretty well when we're holding him, I guess he just doesn't love he mat.

And now for some pictures:

Mother's Day Musings

When I was interviewing for medical school, I was living in Atlanta.  I flew in to Ohio one day and drove to Toledo from Cincinnati for an interview.  My mom came with me to keep me company and for moral support on my interview.  On the way up, the night before my interview, my mom decided it was the appropriate time to inform me that she didn't think I should become a doctor.  It wasn't, of course, that my mom had a problem thinking I was intelligent enough or driven enough to do it, but she explained that she thought I would regret taking on such a time-intensive and demanding career when I had children.  "I know you," she told me.  She told me she knew how I loved passionately and how I had such a strong desire to have several children.  She said that she felt when I had them, it would tear me apart to work such long hours. Maybe I would feel like a bad mother. Maybe I would just regret missing out on things.  My mom stayed home with my sister and I until I went to preschool and kindergarten and then she began going back to work.  When I was in first grade she opened her day care center and for many years she had to work from 8-6....significantly less hours that I will have to work in residency.  But apparently my sister and I would call her when we got home from school and ask her when she was coming home.  It tore her up, she said. She thought I would feel the same thing when my own children cried when I left, or asked me to come home.  But, of course, I was only engaged at the time and had no children.  I was furious that my mother decided to tell me this (the night before my interview, nonetheless) and I yelled at her and defended my decision to become a doctor, and told her how very wrong she was.

She was so not wrong.

I should have listened.  At least I could have been prepared for how I feel.

Now, that's not to say that I regret being in medical school, because I don't.  But I'll tell you, taking 30 hour call is against everything I stand for morally.  Not tucking my children into bed is wrong.  Not getting Matthew dressed in the morning (because I've been at work for 2 hours) is infuriating.  Matthew clinging to my leg is sad, but Matthew crying for his daddy to read him a story instead of me is heartbreaking.  The truth is, most of my 3rd year I have been miserable (though much can be rightly attributed to the fact that for all but this current rotation I have been pregnant).  When I'm sitting in the hospital doing nothing (the theme of 3rd year), I want to storm out and complain about how I could be with my kids.  And then there's the fact that I'm surrounded by stay at home moms. How is it that of my close friends with kids, like 3 of them work full time?  (Thanks Abs, Jenn, and Melinda for not making me feel like a total freak).  So then I stop and think, what if I just quit? Sure, I know the 30 hour call and endless wasted hours are just temporary and then in 4 or 5 years I will be a full grown doctor and I will work weekdays only, 40 hours a week.  I have put great angst into finding a specialty that I like that will also allow me to do that.  But is it worth it? Is my mother right? Will I regret these years? So I try to think about quitting, and my new awesome, perfect, life staying home with my kids.

Me neighbor is like the perfect picture of the perfect homemaker.  Her house is beautiful, her meals are all homemade, elaborate, and healthy (made only better when we share them...), her children are perfectly behaved.  I look at her and I think I want to be like that.  She is the best hostess and takes care of her family so well.  That should be me.  My husband would be much less overworked.  My house would be clean.  My food would be awesome.  My children would see me all day, every day.  We could go to the zoo. And the museum.  And I could make friends with other moms and get my kids together when them and be super concerned with getting them to nap at the same time every day.  Maybe I would even have flowers instead of weeds.  I could buy organic and use cloth diapers and make my own laundry detergent.  Best of all, I would be a gult-free mother.  No worrying about how to balance work with kids.  No stress over trying to choose a specialty that will allow me to make the evening soccer games.  

But the truth of the matter is, my kid eats off my floor.  Sometimes we let him eat off the floor in public places, if the tantrum that has been brought on by the dropped piece of food is too much for me to handle.  (No, my kid does not get sick a lot. In fact, he has not gotten sick in about a year.)  My floor, by the way, is never clean and never would be, even if I were stay at home mom.   I have the best of intentions when it comes to cooking these really elaborate meals but my kid is always running around like a little maniac and cooking those meals would be a near impossibility except for like once a week, when Tim was home to supervise the kids.  My child does not nap at the same time every day.  Some days on the weekend he doesn't nap till like 4 and I'm ok with that.  I will never have flowers instead of weeds unless I hire someone else to plant them because I have no ability to garden (my husband does the gardening but has no time because his wife is not a stay at home mom.  Funny how that works...)  I couldn't buy organic because if I weren't working, we couldn't afford it.  I might make my own laundry detergent but I would still have mounds of laundry baskets that sit in the house, full of clean clothes, for at least a week before they get put away.  And cloth diapers? Forget it, Jen Bowen, I am SO not scrubbing poop over the toilet.  One picture of you doing that, and I knew I so don't have what it takes.  You are one brave woman.   And, I'm pretty sure, that as a stay at home mom, when I took my kids to the doctor, I would envy the doctor.


So here we are again.  Back to being a doctor.  I just can't quit.  Not now, with one year (and 10 weeks) left. Not after all I've done.  Not with the goals I still have of working overseas, or working 30 hours a week as a doctor in an office and getting to help people AND see my children.  Not with the passion I have developed for medicine.  Not after all my husband has given up for me to achieve this.  I can't quit.  So maybe I should have listened to my mom and thought about this before I found myself in this situation. Because now I am wrestling with extreme doubt: Am I a bad mother? Am I a bad wife?

I hope not. My kids seem happy. They seem loved.  And I think they are developing just fine. Matthew knows all the letters of the alphabet, all the shapes (even the weird ones like octagon and trapezoid), all the colors.  Sure, sometimes he cries for his daddy, but I know he loves me.  He runs after me when I pick him up.  He laughs and smiles.  I think he's happy.  Samuel eats, sleeps, and poops, so we can't say much about him. I hope my husband is happy.  I think sometimes he gets a little exacerbated at all the housework he does and all the weekends or nights he's alone, but he hasn't blamed me yet.  I hope I'm a good wife to him.  I hope I'm a good mother.  I hope that when Matthew is older he doesn't look back and say I wasn't there.  I hope that by doing this hard work now, I will be able to have a job in the future where I can be happy and satisfied but also where I can find time and be with my kids and go the soccer games and take summer vacations.  I hope this works out the way I planned.  Above all, my kids must know I tried so hard to raise them and mother them well.

Feel loved, little Matthew.  Feel cherished, little Samuel.  If you do not,  I will have failed as a mother.  30 hour call or not, you must know I love you, that these years of crazy hours are temporary, that I agonized and agonized over my decisions, that I questioned them a thousand times, that I did everything your Mimi said I would and wondered if I should have listened to her.

Oh, how I wish I had felt content as a 40 hour a week aerospace engineer in Atlanta with an awesome boss, flexible hours, and no 30 hour call or night shift.

I really hate the night shift.  So does Matthew.

One Month Old

I can't believe Samuel is already one month old. Even more than that I can't believe I only have 2 weeks of maternity leave left. Not ok. What am I going to do when I can't watch tv while I nurse and sleep until 11 or noon when we've had a rough night?

Our little guy is growing well. A few days ago he weighed in at 8 lb 15 oz putting him in the 35 percentile for weight and 45 percentile for height. He's not very chubby yet but I am doing my best. He eats quite well and I have quite the overabundant milk supply. We already have tons of frozen, pumped milk in our deep freeze. We tried a bottle yesterday and it went well, paving the way for when I go back to work in 2 weeks a slave to the pump.

He sleeps pretty well at night in his crib but is not very consistent. Some nights he'll go 3 or 4 hours between feedings while others he'll last 5 or 6. Either way I can't complain too much, it could be so much worse.

And he is a good baby. He never cries unless he is hungry or wants to be held or wants his pacifier. When awake he is quite alert and attentive. He loves to play on his playmat and tolerates his older brother quite well.

Matthew is adjusting though the first few weeks he had a rough time. He has become way more attached to Tim and always says he wants "my daddy" because needing to feed the baby all the time has lessened the attention I can give him. It breaks my heart but I can't really fault Matthew for it. I constantly feel like I can't hold Matthew, play with Matthew or spend enough quality time with Matthew and it leaves me feeling like a terrible mother. I am hoping it gets better with time. I know some moms can nurse one one run around with another but I am not that talented yet. He loves Samuel and always asks to hold him and is (usually) good with him.

Samuel has enjoyed his first month on earth, I think, and I have definitely enjoyed the new addition to the family. It really doesn't get much better than this.

Here are some pictures from Easter when Samuel met his cousins Jonathan (3) and James (3 months). Also that day was Samuel's baptism. Our church doesn't do infant baptisms so we had Samuel baptized by my mom, who was ordained a few months ago, at her church. Samuel shared his special day with James. I think it was special that she my mom got to baptize her two newest grandsons. Thanks, mom!

And now we have two

On March 13th at 4:36 in the morning we welcomed Samuel Christopher Larson into our lives. We were delighted to meet him and we can tell he is already quite the fine little fellow. Samuel weighed 6 lbs 15 oz and was a very lengthy 22 inches. Since his birth he has been a fairly agreeable baby and has taken to nursing quite well. My sister has this theory that babies who are born in the middle of the night have their days and nights mixed up. This may be true, though we have only had one night with him. It was a little rougher than our first night with Matthew.

The birth was quite the experience. I had wanted a natural birth without any medication and I was hoping for a water birth. What I got was the hardest day of my life.

I started having contractions on Sunday afternoon and they picked up Sunday night. I didn't sleep that night because I was having regular contractions that were painful enough to keep me awake but not painful enough to send me to the hospital. I was so excited to be so close to the "end." Then Monday morning when I woke up the contractions had subsided in regularity and I was so frustrated. I was also exhausted since I hadn't slept the night before so I tried to sleep. Every time I feel asleep contractions began again and woke me up, and they got progressively more intense throughout the day but were very far apart. I called my midwife and she told me to maybe go in and have my cervix checked. I was going to go in without Tim but then I decided I wanted to go for a run instead. Yes, obsessive. I was hoping it would drive me into labor. So I ran 3 1/2 miles with Chester and felt fine the entire run. Shortly after getting home from the run I realized I was in labor. The contractions picked up immediately after the run and became a lot closer together. I showered, tried to eat, walked around, and called up our babysitters. Tim and I got into the hospital at about 10:00 on Monday night and I was 4 cm when we got there. After 1 hour at the hospital I was 5 cm so they admitted me and called in the midwife. Let the fun begin.

And thus began the hardest 6 hours of my life. I've heard people who have had natural births say it was the hardest thing they have ever done. This is most definitely not an exaggeration. To say that I became hysterical is really not an understatement. The pain was unbearable and I hadn't really prepared for the labor at all. It was like I woke up one day and thought, "I'll try to have a baby without any meds" and figured "no big deal." The regular breathing and focusing on something "outside of the contractions" quickly became, as things progressed, moaning and trying to make it through which later became groaning and praying to God to make the contraction end which then became screaming and saying, "I can't do this anymore" and then finally ended at screaming hysterically and yelling at the midwife to tell me exactly how much longer I was going to have to do this, pleading with her to make it stop, screaming that she needed to cut the baby out, and that she needed to vacuum suction the baby out (at this point she told me I knew too much).

I got in the bathtub and labored in there for probably 1-2 hours. I definitely was not focused on the time. My husband was by my side the entire time and at one point was literally the only one holding me up. After a while the midwife checked my cervix and said I still had some left and that the baby was in the posterior position (this makes labor more painful and also makes it harder for the baby to descend through the pelvis). She suggested I sit up and I'm pretty sure this is when I became unraveled. When I moved the contractions grew in intensity and then she had me go sit on the toilet (a common thing to help the baby descend) and that was pretty much the end of me mentally, when I had to get out of the tub and things picked up even more.

I felt intense pain and pressure but pushing wasn't really helping to move the baby (instead other things were moving...) so they brought me to the bed. They kept saying I wasn't pushing right, that I was screaming too much, and that I needed to push instead of scream. I have said this to several women when I was helping them deliver in my OB rotation. I had no idea what I was saying. This is so much easier said than done and it took probably 30 minutes for me to actually figure out how to do this (and even then I was only 50% successful). In between every contraction I pleaded with the midwife to tell me exactly where the baby was and exactly how much longer this was going to take and how many more pushes I needed. She told me the baby could be born at 4:30. This was at 4:00. 30 minutes seemed like the end of me. I tried to hang in there but I kept saying there was no way I could do this. Everyone told me I had no choice. I knew they were right and that is as powerless as I've ever felt; to be so desperate to stop something and the only way to stop it is to do the very thing I fully believe I cannot. The nurses who knew I was a runner kept telling me, "this is the 26th mile." Yeah, right. This was way harder than any 26th mile or 13th mile or any last mile of any race I've ever done.

But I did it. After 2 hours of pushing (longer than I had to push with Matthew) and only 6 minutes later than the midwife's prediction, Samuel Christopher Larson cried life's first cry.

I was so excited to be done with the labor (and I was shaking uncontrollably) that all I could say while holding my brand new baby was, "it's over. it's over. it's over." I don't even think I announced his name to my mom for like 10 minutes.

I think for 24 hours I suffered post traumatic stress syndrome from an unmedicated child birth. I am immensely glad I did it, both for the quick recovery and also for the sense of accomplishment I feel. We might have another one and if we do, I will probably be foolish enough to do it again. However, for the life of me, I can't tell you why. My birth with Matthew any my friend, epidural, was so much more pleasant but this one was so much more meaningful. And, if I may say so, slightly heroic.

And so, without further ado I introduce you to our little string bean.
Proof that I gave birth in a bathing suit

Matthew is obsessed with holding "Samool"
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him, all creatures here below
Praise Him above, ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.

To Russia with Apprehension

I don't watch TV. In fact, Tim and I don't even have cable. And I don't read the newspaper or visit cnn.com or any other news site. When Whitney Houston died, people on facebook told me. Jo Paterno would still be alive if I hadn't been facebook friends with Penn State fans. So anyway, to say I am not up to date on news is an understatement. Most of my news comes from what Tim tells me when we go running today and talk about anything to pass the time. So when I got an e-mail from our adoption agency saying:

We are aware of the recent news stories from Russia and the US press
stating that the Foreign Ministry has called for a suspension of international adoptions. There is a related story stating that some regions in Russia have unofficially stopped working on international adoptions.

I was suddenly a little concerned that I wasn't more of a news person. The first e-mail we got just freaked me out and didn't provide much information. The second e-mail we got also freaked me out but provided more information. Basically, here is what our adoption agency has found to be true, at the elementary level of my understanding.

In 2011 there was a "bilateral agreement" signed by Russia and the US that was meant to help facilitate international adoption of Russian children to the US. There is, I guess, legislation that is to be passed as a result of this agreement. However, for reasons unknown to me, it has yet to be passed. Russian elections are scheduled for March sometime and I suppose after that they are expecting that the new people in office will pass the necessary legislation pertaining to this document. It is my understanding that this is a positive thing for us and not a negative thing.

So, again, for reasons unknown to me, the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs has called for a temporary termination of adoptions between the two countries until the State Duma (big boss man) can pass the legislation pertaining to the document. However, it is my understanding that none of this will happen until after things have settled after the new elections. BUT, all hope is not lost because apparently, the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs does not actually have the authority to hault adoptions (go figure) and this authority only lies in the hands of the State Duma (big boss man) or Russian President (biggest boss man). Neither of them have called for any type of change to the current adoptions. BUT, is is possible that in unity with the ministry of foreign affairs, the regional courts may decide to participate in an unofficial suspension of adoptions to the US. I guess they can do this? Go figure.

So, we're not really sure where this leaves us for a number of reasons. First, we do not know if our region Vladivostok will choose to participate in an unofficial but apparently legal suspension. I am hesitant to check with our adoption agency about our specific region because we have so long to referral anyway. Which brings me to my next point: we are currently only 1 month in to our probable 6-9 month wait (which will actually become close to one year until everything is final), so with regards to legislation being passed or not passed or things being held or not held, we have a lot of time for that to happen. This, of course, freaks me out because I feel very vulnerable to anything that may happen.

Of course, my biggest fear is that we will not get our daughter. But I have no basis for this fear quite yet. But "assume the worst" can sometimes be my middle name. My second, and perhaps more reasonable fear, is that it will delay us getting our daughter. Or, the third option is, we will not be affected at all. Of course, we are hoping and praying for the latter.

They say international adoption is a tumultuous, emotional, and scary ride. They were not kidding. We have so much invested in this. My heart has already been given to our unknown daughter. As terrified as I am about what lies ahead, I am so emotionally invested in bringing this little girl home to us. She is already my child and my family and my heart will not be complete without her.

So we hang on for her and hope and pray that she will find her way to our home in a timely manner. And we hope and pray for all the other children who are waiting in orphanages in poor conditions to meet their forever families. We pray that the bureaucracy ruling over them will not delay their time until they are loved an included in a family.

Please join us in prayer not only for our adoption for for all others in process, that courts would not suspend adoptions and that things will continue normally prior to and through the elections next month.