One year ago, we met our son!

May is a big month for us.

It's not because of graduation, recitals or end of school performances, although that time will come. May will always be special because it's the month we first met our son.

One year ago, we were flying to Bulgaria for our first of two trips as part of our adoption of Bozi. We received Bozi's referral in April and this photo was our first look at him. This trip was intended to help us bond with our child and confirm our referral.

One year ago, we were anxiously sitting--correction, terrified and paralyzed in an orphanage. We were in the only colorful room in the entire building. It's the show room. We even had to wear hospital booties over our shoes. It's room they take pictures of orphans in for prospective parents. The room with piles of toys that seem to be barely played with. The room where they bring the children to meet their adoptive moms and/or dads. The room that looks like so much fun and comforts you as a prospective parent, until you realize the facts. The kids are never or rarely in there. The orphanage is understaffed, the children are left in their cribs, their muscles either under-developed or atrophying from lack of activity. Children don't know how to play because they don't have the chance to learn. They are fed pureed foods until they age out (at the age of four) and worst of all, it's sooo quiet. A building full of children, ages 0-4, some as old as 7 if their special needs are severe and the loudest sound you hear through the open windows is the shuffle of feet, clanking of dishes in the room they eat in and muffled Bulgarian spoken amongst the few adults. Even in the building, there's no screaming, no crying, no babbling, nothing.

Visiting Bozi May 2018!

One year ago, the caregiver brought Bozi in to meet us. I remember watching him struggle to walk with her support. He was so solemn and we were frozen solid in our seats. I felt like I was watching a movie, but I wasn't a character in it. We wouldn't have moved without prompting and once we did move we were cautious. We didn't want to scare him. We didn't know him. He didn't know us. I didn't know how to act. I'm not shy, I don't really meet a stranger, but I didn't even attempt to hold him until the second day. I look back now and see my fear. I remember my questions. Is he really ours? Is this going to work out? Is this the tiny boy God planned for us? What about his potential medical issues? He looks so fragile. Will I break him? Will he ever really walk? Does that even matter now? Does anything really matter other than getting this tiny little boy out of here?

One year ago, I saw first glimpses of his personality. His stubbornness, playfulness, coy smirks and after a few days of visiting, his sweet smile. I remember the first time I heard him cry. He was the only child crying in the entire building. He didn't want us to leave and they had to pull him away from us. To this day, that moment--his cries echoing through the silent building--shatters me into a thousand pieces.

Bozi's 2nd Birthday at the orphanage, 2018!

One year ago, our first trip was scheduled the week of his second birthday. So we were able to celebrate with him last year at the orphanage. Two of his little friends joined us, they were both about a year older than Bozi. One of those friends has since been adopted and we have had the ability to video chat with him and the family via Facebook. I remember Bozi's little party, all three children sat so still in their seats. They didn't move except to reach for their food and they never attempted to get up. Do you know any 2 or 3 year olds that don't try to get out of their seats for over an hour? They never said a word. They didn't smile or giggle. They were either staring off into space or mesmerized by the snacks and juice. Looking back, I can't believe I missed those details. I was pretty wrapped up in Bozi, but watching my videos and looking at pictures of that day he was the same way. I didn't see it, I didn't see his uncertainty and fear, I just saw my own. I'm pretty sure I didn't want to see it. I wanted to see the good. He was going to be in that place at least four more months and I would be so far away. I wanted to see an orphanage that seemed to care. A place that wasn't "too bad." But, looking back, even with the good intentions of a decent orphanage (comparatively speaking) and sweet staff, it's still an orphanage. It's not a family. They can't do it all, they aren't their parents. It doesn't change the fact that children are not intended to be ignored, forgotten or left alone. Children need and deserve more.

Bozi's dedication May 2019!

A year ago, we were trying to determine the severity of his medical condition in a hospital in Sofia, Bulgaria. One year ago, we left our son behind. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

Here we are a year later from our first of two trips and now Bozi has been home with us seven months. Seven months of being in a real family. Seven months of recognizing the trauma our little boy has experienced. Trauma of losing his birth mom, trauma of losing his caregiver and the only home he knew for his first 2.5 years, trauma of adjusting to us in Bulgaria for our ten day pick-up trip, adjusting to us in Wilmington following a crazy hurricane and now adjusting to a new life in Newnan. What part of adoption isn't traumatic, especially when you add in an additional relocation? It rocks a child's world to his or her very core. We have watched his desperation and fear. We have experienced his loss through his actions. We've been hit, scratched, bitten and been rejected emotionally and physically. We've watched him hit his head on the floor and walls, hit himself and bite himself. He still rocks himself to sleep and rocks when he gets bored, fortunately that has become less frequent. He just started getting out of bed on his own, instead of silently sitting and waiting for us to know he's awake. We have watched human depravity at its finest. The inability to do good apart from God in us. The fight for control and security.

Storybots cupcakes!

Last Sunday we dedicated our precious Bozi boo to God. We gave him back to the One who gave him to us. I looked around and was overcome. I saw my wiggly little boy, my precious girls and cutie husband, our pastor and his family who supported us for so many years through this process. I saw another cute little Bulgarian boy sitting in the front row who I prayed for alongside his precious mommy. We walked this path together and that has been irreplaceable. I saw our church family who is just getting to know us, but has been so welcoming and committed to join us in raising our child in the Christian faith. At that point, for just a second, I couldn't breathe.

God has brought us all full circle, through pain, suffering, and lack of control of the many circumstances around us. Without the pain, we wouldn't have experienced the joy that followed. In our suffering, we didn't just learn lessons, we internalized God's truths. And in God's own clever way, He showed me once again my perception of "lacking control" has more to do with my lack of trust and me trying to take back what I have already given Him... my life.

Bubble Birthday Party!

Sunday morning, we made a life commitment and Sunday night we celebrated our Bozi boo's life with a Storybots / Elmo birthday party, his favorites. Although, Elmo's appearance was basically some napkins! :) The party was complete with family, a few friends and our neighbors. This time that tiny boy was not only eating his food, but shoving a cupcake in his mouth and snacking on anything and everything. He wasn't scared to leave his seat, he was smiling and running around, he laughed when we lit the roman candle, he was squeezed and hugged by friends and family, but my favorite was watching him squealing, dancing and clapping in the bubbles. Sheer joy and beautiful sounds replaced his solemn face and the silence of the year before.

I thank God for my squishy-cheeked baby boy, my girls who truly cannot get enough of him and his daddy who had to wait months to truly be accepted and loved by his son. Friends, my husband is an example of true love and amazing parenting... loving and giving to a child with no guarantees that he will ever reciprocate what you offer. To me that sounds a lot like what God does for us!

What a difference a family makes.