Thursday

We woke up early to pack our luggage and head to the

orphanage to get Little B and his nurse. We drove back down the bumpy road, parked in the back, walked past the sweet smelling flowers and were greeted by the nurse and his sweet smiling face.

When we got to the car he was ecstatic again. Breathing deeply and squealing as he does whenever we get in the car. Kev and I were able to ride with him in the back seat. He was in his car seat and obviously nervous. He stuck his tiny finger in his little mouth and started sucking it. He rocked side to side several times to calm himself. It’s the first time we saw institutionalized behaviors. I simply petted his head or chest and he immediately stopped. 

We played little games with him. We tickled his face. I had

my hand on him to calm him, like I used to do with my girls. Kev held his tiny hand. He was ours, we all knew it. The long trip today was only to get his MRI results from a hospital in Plovdiv to provide to our doctor and to get a second opinion about the possibility of him having microcephaly from a specialist in Sofia.  The outcome today had no bearing on whether or not we would move forward with his adoption.

On the way to Plovdiv Little B kept looking to make sure I was still sitting with him. All I could think about was the fact that in a few hours I would no longer be sitting beside him for months. He would look deep into my eyes like he was searching for something. 

He started getting restless so we showed him his

recordable book (thanks April)!When he heard my voice reading he looked at me to see if I was talking. He recognized my voice. We told him about the girls and showed him his photo album so he could see them.

In Plovdiv we stopped at three different hospitals before getting to the right one. As we drove our translator drove over a pothole and the entire car bounced. She looked back quickly to check on us and he laughed. She said, “hole” in Bulgarian and he repeated it after her. She said it was probably the first time he said that word.  

Everything today took a little longer than expected so we didn’t get to look around. While we waited at the last hospital, we hung out on the side walk. We tried to let him walk, but he wanted to be held. We played Little B’s favorite game, “fall down.” Basically, it involves handing him a toy and he throws it with vengeance and says “fall down” in shock. Kev left to go potty and Little B kept checking for him. In the meantime, we played his other favorite game, where we search for cats and dogs. “Cat” and “dog” are two of his top three words, the other being “fall down.” He will say the word for cat or dog then gasp and dramatically look around. It’s my favorite game too, haha. I noticed people looking at us a lot. I’m not sure if it’s because we are American or he was Roma, or maybe the combo. 

We got the MRI results and headed to Sofia for our appointment with the pediatric neurologist.  On the way he played games, fell asleep and woke up to play more little games. While we were playing he looked at me and called me “mama”! Everyone in the car exclaimed “Mama!” They had all called me that to him all week, but he had never said it to me before. I was so excited he labeled me as that, but then I realized he doesn’t even know what a Mama is. That fact is heartbreaking. It’s heartbreaking because he will eventually learn what a Mommy and Daddy are, but there are many children who will not. He will learn he has a biological mommy he may never know. 

We got to Sofia. We were late for the appointment but the doctor worked us in. While we waited we fed Little B a lunch of various jars of baby food they had packed for us. Again we got lots of looks from different people walking by. I went to take off his pink bib and he began to scream. Apparently, he wasn’t done eating. We fed him some more food and finally he was fine. The doctor called us into her office. She looked at his MRI and Little B. She determined he did not have microcephaly in her opinion. She also could not see scarring from asphyxia or other issues in his brain. Relief set in.

We took his clothes off for the doctor to look him over. He is having an allergic reaction to something, but the orphanage is working to discover what it is. Other than needing therapy for his joints, she saw nothing wrong with him. I still am anxious to have our doctor view his MRI but in the meantime it was comforting to hear. As we left he told the receptionist at the hospital “ciao” and when we said  “bye” he repeated “bye” after us. This kid is a quick learner. 

We walked outside and reality set in. This was it. I was holding him for the last time. I had to let him go. The other worker had showed up to take them back to the orphanage. We hugged him tight and kissed him multiple times as we had done all week. I put him back in the car seat, took my time strapping him in and stepped back out of the car. I awkwardly hugged the nurse tight as she got in. I hoped it communicated my appreciation for her. It wasn’t until I was in a separate car beside him that he started looking for me. I choked up, my stomach was sinking. I felt like he trusted me. The tears were coming and I stifled them way down deep. The whole day he had wanted me to hold him. He would not go to anyone else. Now I was leaving. He looked at me intently. He wondered why I wasn’t beside him anymore. I felt like I betrayed him. 

We smiled big and waved happily, exactly as we were told to by our agency. “Leave him happy memories. Whatever you do, don’t let him see you cry.”

We drove away. Kev asked if I was hanging in there. I didn’t answer. I wasn’t. Later, I told him I had a “moment” but I sucked it up. I’m sure those stifled tears and feelings will come at some point. For me it’s usually in some public location when something I see triggers those emotions. If you read in a past post you will see last time it was in Hobby Lobby. Lucky me, uncontrollable ugly crying where there are lots of people to look at me. 

Over the course of four days we spent a grand total of 17 hours together. We had more time than some families and less time than others. He smiled, played, walked and talked. He learned things we taught him. He had our very individualized attention for such a short intense period of time and you could see the impact that made on him. He learned to trust us and then we had to walk away. 

It feels again like a dream. The little face and hands we

kissed and held. Excited gasps and deep breaths. The pure joy every time he saw us. The deep brown eyes that held our gaze until he looked away. He captured us.

We are exhausted. We are emotionally spent and physically drained. I wrote this post then took a 6 hour nap and I will NOT have a problem going back to bed. These short few days took everything out of us. We said goodbye to our amazing translator and went to get food in Sofia after checking into our hotel. We both couldn’t wait to come back and relax. Is any of this relaxing? No. 

I’m anxious to see my sweet girls, to squeeze them, kiss them and hold them like a Mommy should. We’ve talked almost every night, made goofy faces and heard their fun stories. We’ve been apart 9 days. That’s never happened before. I’m anxious to show them pictures and videos of their little brother. I want to help them to process this coming change. It won’t be easy on any of us. I know medical things may still come up. But, that’s ok because he is our son and he is their brother.