Sea Foam Green with Polka Dots

Three years ago. Three, long, years ago. I wandered through Target looking for random gift ideas to fill our gift closet.

*Important Side Note: If you do not have a gift closet, I highly suggest you get started on one. Every time I visit a store, I take a look in the various clearance sections, to find things that could be given as gifts in the future. This is a huge money saver and is perfect for last minute birthday invites or those "oops, I totally forgot that is tomorrow!" moments. Also, if you find that something you purchased isn't being used, you can donate it to a shelter or a fundraiser. 

Anyway, back to the story....

Three years ago, I was looking in the children's clothing section. I filled my cart with clothes of all sizes, for boys and girls, and for any season. At the time, many of our friends were still adding to their families and/or had little ones, so I knew that I could find an immediate use for most of them.

When I got home, I began unpacking my finds and organizing them into the sections of my gift closet. One particular outfit stuck out to me. The most adorable sea foam green top with white polka dots, with matching jean shorts with the same green swirling around the legs. I thought to myself, "If I had a daughter, this is what I would want to dress her in". Knowing that we had decided not to have more babies, I packed the outfit away with the rest of our future gifts. 

Over and over again, I would go into this closet, looking for the perfect gift for the baby shower, birthday party, retirement gift, etc. etc. Each time, taking an extra look at that adorable outfit. Each time it would be an appropriate gift, I would consider giving it away- sometimes even putting it in the bag, but I would always change my mind and pull it back out. I couldn't, and still can't, explain my reasoning. It just felt right to keep it.

Each time I was reminded of the outfit, I was reminded of the daughter I felt was missing. Each time, it would rekindle the thoughts that led me to believe our family was not complete.

Fast forward three years. Yesterday, my sweet Maylee- the reason for my hesitation, the reason why our family was not yet complete, wore that very outfit.

It was not deliberate. I have not spent the last three years eagerly awaiting the chance to clothe our daughter in this outfit. In fact, it was buried in one of her dresser drawers. I happened upon it, when digging for one more pair of 18 month shorts.

It wasn't until yesterday evening, scrolling through the pictures of she and I splashing in a fountain, that it hit me how long that outfit had been waiting for our little girl. I can not describe how powerful that realization was. 

Daily Reminders

It's been a while since I posted something. I have been waiting for this grand, interesting topic to appear. That hasn't happened. Each day looks very much like the last. The struggles we had a month ago, are the same struggles we have today (albeit to a much smaller extent) and the beautiful moments of bonding and love are the same (albeit more frequent than before).

Uphill

Each day is a baby step toward becoming whole again- for all of us. Each day, I learn a little bit more about our girl and these new brothers of a girl that I hadn't known before. Each day, I face failures and triumphs- most of which are not seen or measurable, but felt.

There are so many amazing things that come with adoption and I am so thankful to have found this path, and in turn, our little girl. We are so thankful for the bonds we have created with fellow adoptive families- those connections run deep. I feel like I need some profound words of wisdom, but there really aren't any. We just have to take our days hour by hour and learn about each other in a new way.

As our life settles in and we begin to feel as though each day is more "normal", we realize just how far we've come. From the first week, when all we saw and heard from our girl was sadness and confusion, to giggles and constant chatter (mostly in Hangul). From sleepless nights co-sleeping, to on average two wake ups in her own room, in her own bed. From frequent meltdowns without a clear reason, to more understanding, or as close to it as you can get with a two year old.

All of our relationships are growing and strengthening, and our daily schedules are solidifying and becoming the norm. Our family is adjusting very well for only being two months home, and there are aspects of the past three-ish months that I didn't plan or prepare for.

My body is finally on the mend. With lack of sleep, feeling high stress and anxiety about the future, and a constant pull to focus on everything, my body started to panic. My skin (which has always caused me grief) started looking, well, old. The color was gone, my wrinkles intensified and the bags under my eyes grew in size and darkened. I remember the dark circles with the boys too, but the rest was new. In the first couple weeks home, I lost five pounds due to sleep/eating patterns being off and many other focuses than food. Now, eight weeks later, I have gained it all back plus some. That may not sound like much, but for someone who is under five feet tall, fluctuating almost ten pounds in less than two months is huge. I have felt run down and unhealthy the entire transition.

About a week ago, I started going to bed early. The first step in becoming me again. I can finally get out and exercise- thank you mother nature for giving us sun. Now that I am home and settled, I can meal plan better so we are eating healthier. I am finally feeling a tad like myself.

Life home has been both a huge blessing and challenging. I love my time with my kiddos and I know this will be my last opportunity for this kind of family focus. I miss my work and I miss it dearly. I love the time to bond with Maylee and I miss my time with adults (and middle schoolers). I love the snuggles and pace of being home. I miss the creativity of my classroom. I am so thankful that I was able to take the rest of the school year off to focus on my family and the transition with Maylee, and I did not anticipate missing my work quite this much, nor quite this early.

I am reminding myself every morning and every night (and any other quiet, calm moments throughout the day) that this is special, important time and I need to cherish it. Even when cherishing it is tough. Even when my students email me to tell me of their accomplishments. Even when I am tired. Even when the fighting between siblings is at it's height. Even when the stinker face is the only expression I have seen. Even when the words "no", "stop", "please", and "why?!" are the only things I have said.

All of those "even ifs" have happened today, by the way.

This is special time. Hard. Very hard. But very important special time.