This is why Sasha is my Miracle From Russia

I did the parent/teacher conference thing today which meant that it was in a group setting given the special school he attends. I cannot image my parents going through this almost grilling session. It is kind of funny to talk to these people about Sasha's progress. Of course he is failing at grade level because he is not reading at a 94% rate. They acknowledge that he has not had the years of exposure that normal American kids get before being tossed into the school system. They also acknowledge that everyday, during reading time he takes the books and "reads" them independently. And he and I "discover" letters everywhere we look. So it is like I told the team today - imagine Sasha's learning curve as a rubber band - right now it is being pulled back and it seems like there is not real progress. That pulling of the rubber band is him absorbing and mentally organizing everything. Let the rubber band go and boom, watch all the knowledge shoot out everywhere.

Given this time last year my son could not count to five in either Russian or English much less identify a letter I find him to be making amazing progress. And he practices all the time. He practices so much that I hear him "singing" himself to sleep by counting or naming the alphabet. And then I told them to check back in six months because they would be amazed at the progress.

So our world is happy. Recently, out of the blue one Saturday afternoon, Sasha thanked me for coming to get him and bring him home. His words not mine. It took a moment to register (he meant home from Russia) because I was at the other end of the house reading something or other. And then I understood so I told him well of course - he was my son and I needed to bring him home. He then said, "ok mom," and turned and walked away. It still makes me cry every time I think about it.

That is why I call Sasha my Miracle from Russia. Everyone please take care and have a wonderful Thanksgiving - my favorite holiday. - Mama Sarah

yeah - it is all worth it

So we still have bumps in the road. I think those are the normal kid things we deal with every day. And yet, my son is so amazing. It is like he is a miracle that unfolds before my eyes everyday. Yeah, yeah, we gets lots of help but at the end of the day he is still the one that amazes. And I thank God for him being in my life everyday.

Oh yeah - the palette expander is going better for Sash than my braces are going for me. Go figure. :)

I think he may have finally understood what a birthday is - and now we go toward Christmas. That he knows so it is starting to get fun. After all, having kids means spoilage - yeah! Oh course my "parent training" pre-adoption emphasized these "kind of" kids could not be spoiled because we, as parents, were simply filling their unmet needs. I personally think that we, as parents can actually spoil - all too easily. And yeah, I do it. But at the end of it all, my son blossoms and grows. And everyday he asks me if I have dreams, what they are -- and then he tells me his. Yeah, it is all worth it.

So maybe there is a turn in the road ...

Sasha and I celebrated our birthday weekend recently (he is 10/23 and I am 10/24 - go figure!?!) and it was great! We did family things and had lunch at his favorite eatery - The Red Robin. They put the balloons "under our ears" and did the clap clap song. And there was ice cream. Sasha was over the moon. He had such a great day. He makes my momma heart just sing - every day.

Two days before his birthday we put on the first of his orthodontic devices. It is a palate expander. I know of no adult that would put up with such an intrusive and somewhat overwhelming device. Yet my son deals with it so amazingly. The orthodontist is a Harvard-trained artist that literally fitted the devise around every crock and nanny of Sasha's cleft anomaly. I know because I clean it all every day. It is funny - we are growing closer over that silly palate expander. We argue about foods he can eat, he eats them and then I come to help with the gagging. So my son still eats. And I clean. A lot.

The absolutely worst part of it all is turning the expansion key every week. It makes me break out in cold sweats. I only turn that key once a week but it is an image that haunts me. What if I turn it too much - or not enough. ?!??!?!? I would rather be back in the far north of Russia in the dead of winter than face this. Or maybe not.

Anyway, it is all good. We do well. Yesterday was not one of our banner days but at the end of it all Sasha loves me, Mama, because I came and got him. His words not mine. The rest is all surplus at the end of the day. My son is a miracle everyday. He is my miracle I found in Russia.

Why I went dark for awhile ...

The agency I adopted Sasha through has had illegal access to their files of adopting families. What that means I do not exactly know but if someone got my email address from the file, there is a good chance all bank numbers, etc., are now known to a man who formerly worked for the adoption agency but has been gone for awhile and now is finally free of all legal issues.

So I was mad, and hurt and scared and shut down this site. Given all the contacts, I am reopening the blog - even if no body is listening anymore.

Ultimately this site is about my miracle in Russia - my son Sasha. And he is the most amazing boy!!! If he can do it I can too!

Tomorrow we go the the Cranio-Facial eye doctor because a few months ago I noticed Sasha could not see the screen of my laptop while he sat on my lap and watched me type! Sasha has told me from the beginning he had glasses the kids at the orphanage took and broke. Recently I came upon some medical information obtained in Russia that confirms Sasha may need glasses. So off to the eye doctor we go!

On Wednesday we go to his orthodontist to begin to get some of the appliances on that that he needs in order to get ready for the bone grafts. Sasha is excited. At last we start!!!!!!!

The files of our Adoption Agency have been Compromised

Today I had to run to the store after work...

At school Sasha has a new teacher. This has caused some issues. Grief for Sasha sometimes looks like violence and extreme oppositional defiance. Apparently Sash does not like his new teacher who has returned from maternity leave - most probably because she is new. His solution: have pee pee accidents at school. My solution: pull-ups and extra changes of clothing in the backpack. Sash is not cool with pull-ups. They are girlie-girlie pink. This should be a short problem.

It is so sweet really. Sasha is grieving for his substitute teacher. Her name is Kim and she is great. But Geri is back from maternity leave and life changes. That makes Sasha sad. And mad. So he strikes out. I got home today and my kid was a bubbling mass of emotion - all mostly suppressed until his Mom came home. It was all held just below the surface. Then, with one small poke it all came out.

Kim, his substitute teacher, is gone and he is grieving. We talk about all the ways I can keep him safe and he agrees - I can do all of that. Then his face crumples and he asks for Kim back. I tell him that is something I cannot do. Kim must go where life takes her - and I have no control over that. He is sobbing and lashing out.

So off we went to the store. My mom is driving and we are running containment scenarios as we drive to the grocery store. Will she stay? Or will I because as we drive to the store I am holding Sasha in a restraining hold. And then he tells me he can get it together. And he does!

We go to the store, get a piece of chicken (because Sasha is finally eating chicken!), get our groceries and leave. And then the rest of the night was kind of touch and go. Sasha kept kind of "going up over the edge" but then he would bring himself back again!!!

Separation grief from satellite supports is hard for any of us, at any age, but for my son it seems catastrophic. Any change for him triggers insecurity and fear. With the loss of his teacher from last year he was sent into grief such that he curled up into my lap, sobbed and later tried to "tear the house down." He even feared losing others from school. Me being me simply gathered him close and told him things change. And people go away to other places but it is not a bad thing - it is simply something different.

Just one more thing for my Mama list - help Sasha learn to grieve separation appropriately. He sleeps tonight with fair ease so maybe I did so good work tonight - I hope so. The Mama list remains long.

Just one more pic of our happy day

First Day of School!!!

What an amazing day for us! As you can see Sasha is excited to go back to school. Even though we were only off a month because he is in a year around school, it was long enough.

He is officially a first grader and is seriously happy about his new classroom. As we waited on the front steps of home this morning (because the school bus was a little late) he was so excited and happy about going back. And he loves his new school clothes. My son has made it clear that white oxford shirts and khakis are the preferred attire. For me this morning, I sat on that front step and remembered back to this time last year, add a few days, when I got the call to get on a plane to Russia to go to court for my son. I cannot believe how the time has flown.

I was so scared that the call would never come. Then I got caught in Passport Control flying through Moscow and everything started to go slightly eschew. And then stuff was so hard when we got home. It was hard for lots of good reasons but some days were really dark. Yet, as I look into my son's grinning joy it is all so worth it.

And he is having such a great time. Everyone loves him and his antics. Last week we visited one of the surgeons to discuss stuff and I told the doctor that my son could tell him what was needed. And he did. In amazingly good English. At the end the doctor said that what Sasha wants is entirely reasonable. As Mama I just sat back and smiled. Take heed America, Alexander Nickolai is here and he will be heard. :)

We do Great!!!

Sasha is such an amazing child. Everyday is a new miracle. He gave the post-adoption person an individualized tour of the house in which Mama was ordered to remain in the living room. What a sweetie.

And then I wrote down all we did for the last six months and then what was to come. Oh my goodness. We do a lot as a family. Life is good. And Sash goes back to school soon. We have a study area set-up where he "works" at practicing for school. My mom does all the heavy lifting with that. (Thank you Mom!) He is so cute about how his Mama goes to work and then he works at home. I am so excited because soon he will be able to read the books he carries around the house asking me "what it says" all the time. I have no problem reading books to him (thank you Nancy for the huge dump truck load of kiddie books) but even Mommies need bathroom breaks. :)

So that is how it goes. I put everything on the line to get Sasha home. We then went through a screaming hell. Even now days have bumps. But, at the end of the day it is worth it. And that is while I climb the mountain of our upcoming surgeries.

Believe it or not Sasha is looking forward to it. I collapse in tears every time I have to address it. No lie. Yeah, yeah I know I signed up for the cleft issue but it is currently dropping me to my knees. I carry my child on a pillow - I want to have nothing bad ever happen to him again so even corrective surgery makes me cry. Frankly if anyone knows of a source that can hold my hand when I weep during surgery please tell me about it. I have been even through Sasha thinking monsters coming out of the walls but I am on my knees thinking about getting Sasha through his cleft surgeries.

But Sasha is all about it! His only concern was if I would be there when he woke up. Of course I told him I would be so he is off and badgering all of us about wanting his Mama's lips and teeth. He wants those missing upper fronts! And then he wants the pain in his mouth to stop (he only told me about that recently!!!). It is only in the last week or so he figured out his nose can maybe be bigger (we had a late summer cold with congestion that totally stressed me out) so that is now making Sasha's list. Please pray for the surgeons because Sasha is coming with his list of demands and will probably not be deterred.

I cannot imagine a more perfect child. And God let me be his Mama. THANK YOU GOD. There are not thank yous enough. I pray for all parents waiting for their child to come home. It is such a hard trek to get them here. And then the path at home may be hard. But it is totally worth it!!!

People often say they do not understand how I "do it" or "I am amazing." That is all wrong. I "do it" because a child needs a parent. I only seem "amazing" because I hang in and ride the insanity through. At the end of the day, Sasha is still a child that needed a parent. And God gave me the opportunity be the person to step up and be the Mama Sasha needs. I am so blessed.

And this is a sobering thought - Sasha will be going off to college in a small handful of years. I am so not ready! So maybe after people help me find the cleft surgery support people we can search for the "leaving for MIT - bye Mom" support group. My son is seriously brilliant. I know he will leave home and travel far in his love planes and all things need to be taken apart and "fixed."
That is something I cannot want to see- even if it is through tears. May God Bless All that take time from their days to read this blog. Take care, Mama Sarah

Tomorrow We have our One Year Post-Adoption Visit

How crazy is that! It seems like just yesterday Sasha was tearing through Heathrow on our way home. It seems just like last week I stepped into a minivan in Vlad so as to take the three+ hour ride to Sasha's former orphan home to pick him up for the final time. So tonight I think - what does it all mean? First and foremost - my son is home. For me personally, I find the Russian institutional structure an amazing miracle that saves children.


I think anyone still reading this blog should raise a cheer for us! You should raise that cheer because we survive. This family survives and heals in love. And tomorrow we will have the interview to let all that people in Russia know too. I do not know about anyone else but all the people I met in adopting Sasha will have a place in my heart forever.

Somedays I am just so proud!!!

As some of you may know, being a parent is often a lot of loving while correcting and molding behavior. The redirection of institutional behavior as it combines with PTSD often seems like such an uphill battle. Rewarding but tiring. My son, who is such a survivor has given me many moments of growth opportunities as he reaches new heights.

So it was with much trepidation that I approached the birthday party of a neighbor kid. Sasha and I have been really sick so at the last minute I said no to going to the actual party but we still had the gift. It was so sweet really, Sasha picked out a multi-game package with SpongeBob. I sweated bullets over both this present choice and the fact that it would have to be given away but Sasha came through with flying colors. I wrapped it up with a bow (Sasha had never seen such a thing) and then he carefully walked it over and gave it to the birthday boy. He stayed to see it unwrapped, was happy Jake (the birthday boy) liked the gift and then was able to go back home.

What an amazing boy. And so sweet. Mostly Sasha is about defining boundaries about what is his. And most days what constitutes his is everything in sight. (We are still working on filling those reservoirs of unmet need.) Yet today he gave a gift from the heart with no strings attached and no regrets. I am so proud of my son. He is such an amazing person. My life is so much richer for him.

I am so lucky. I hope that all who read this blog are well. May God keep you close. - Sarah

p.s. Next week we go to my favorite county fair - I cannot wait to see if we bring chickens home! Sasha adores them and I remember taking care of them from my childhood. I am certain we do not do something so rash. :) Or maybe we will. :) Or maybe Sasha will just get a cool cowboy hat like his Mom. Life is good.

Yep - we are testing boundaries

So no accidents today. Instead just out and out non-conformance. That is what I call his difficult days - a day where Sasha decides to not conform. From the school perspective he is getting worse. For Mama I see a child in grief. And his sense of outrage translates into out and out non-compliance.

Over the weekend I donated clothing and exercise equipment to my favorite second hand store. After donating I took Sasha into the main section to check out the toys. He had a ball. We got gently used toys (mostly of the music variety) and a motorcycle big wheel that he adores. Frankly, I never even thought about it. Yet for Sasha it was a huge deal.

When he asked me why I did it, I told him it was because I love him and want him to be happy. He asks me that question a lot and most of the times I just say - I [did whatever] because I wanted you to be happy. And I think that causes him grief. Like he finally "gets" that what went on before was not so great. Sasha loves me but that rage and grief needs to go somewhere so school is now bearing the brunt of it. And they look a little ragged around the edges. When I was finally able to pry something out of my red chief tonight he said he did not want to go to school anymore - he wanted to be home with mama.

I pity the school because when he gets like this it will not stop - at least for a while. And he is so sweet, even in his non-compliance stage. When I put him to bed tonight his only concern was that I would come back later and put him in my bed when I go to sleep. When I try to leave him in his room he wakes up crying and crawls in on the far side of my bed in the middle of the night. For Sasha, I am his Mama and his world is safe when I am near.

In the end I cannot argue with him because he was not safe until me. That is the funny thing about kids, they can be more right than adults. I love that about my son. And he is growing so much.

Oh yeah - we are trying to get into surgery. The data was lost on a cat scan we did awhile ago so we need to redo that and meet with yet another round of surgeons and specialists. I talk with Sasha about it and he is excited. He wants lips a bigger nose and teeth that look like the ones every one else has. He is so sweet, he always asks if I will be there and when I say yes - then he is back at thinking about all that we can do.

Until the last round of the doctor team visit, I did not know that his mouth "hurts." Until we can get the new scan etc., they cannot even begin to address this pain. I was cool with all the emotional/mental blah blah but putting my child into surgery is dropping me to my knees. I don't even want him to stub a toe. I am not having a good time. And I will probably whine about this issue a lot more given we go to surgery this fall.

But off we go. And I will cry when I need to cry. And I may yell - a lot. And I will hold Sasha's hand - every day. And when he having a non-compliant day, I will make my signature comment "really," smile, find some momentary consequence to impose and then gather him close and love him. He is the most amazing kid and I am lucky to be his Mom.

"New Parent" v. the "Professional"

I think that I wrote awhile back that I was able to get Sasha into a school program that would deal with his PTSD issues. It was a difficult process. Once there I thought people would understand how daily life goes. Now I think maybe not.

Growing up my family often referenced a story by O. Henry about a child who was kidnapped and the kidnappers, instead of asking for ransom, asked to be able to pay so the child could come home. The child of the story was one that, while lovable, was still so problematic yet actualized, which made that child ungovernable by conventional methods. My family told that story about me. All my life the label of "red chief" was me.

And then I went to pick Sasha up from school on Thursday. (He is in a year around school that holds classes through July). As my mom noted, the principal saw me, strode over and couldn't wait to hand him over. From my perspective, I am not used to the principal walking Sasha out and I could not understand some of the verbiage that basically resulted in the hand off of "he is yours now." Others, like his teachers and para-educators, came up and tried to explain, but they were speechless. And they seemed like they were "worried for me."

My kid - when he is done accommodating a situation and decides to be "out of there" he has a large and interesting bags of tricks so as to make the adult puppets dance. That is what he did at school last week. He dropped the "experts" to their knees. And mom and I laughed all weekend. Red chief syndrome all over again. My mom has started calling him "junior" simply because it is so funny.

Yet, my son is showing how well is adjusting to being home. He is now simply just testing normal boundaries. Sort of like the peeing in his pants incidents. Last week, the first of his friends that maybe the first to not be killed or beaten into unconcsciousness so as to secure his compliance wet his pants in school last week. Two times, both accidents. Both times, Sasha elected to intentionally pee in school. In his words - "not an accident." Sash and I have discussed extensively and he meant to do "it."

Over the weekend Sasha came in from the yard and had "pee" in his pants both days despite there being a bathroom close to the backyard. Ironically, Sash HATES anything not clean, especially when it is him, so it shows how much he wants to protect his new friend in his attempts to create a "problem" at home.. On the second accident over the weekend he went into pull-ups. He is now in diapers until he sees that his attempts to protect his friend do not have an logical connection through his underwear. Boys!

Junior is Red Chief - Junior. What an amazing little boy!!!

We have discovered pirates!!!

We have discovered the idea of "ahoy maties!" It was only a matter of time for a little boy watching SpongeBob. His room has already been entirely redone in the Bikini Bottom theme. Sasha decided to hold off on putting the borders up simply because he is trying to "behave" well enough with the cats so as to get a room upstairs.

He totally LOVES anything pirate right now!!! He is sooooo cute. He always does the "argh" and then asks "what you want?!" I always say I want all the treasure in your treasure chest. He then says okay and gets all the imaginary booty out. It makes my heart melt every time. And he giggles so much all the time now. Don't get me wrong, there are still issues but, finally, he may be getting a little happier now.

And isn't that what we all want for our children? Sasha often asks me "why you do that?" It is usually after I gave him something new he needs like clothing or a kiss, a hug or even candy. And I always say - because I love you and I want you to be happy. I am personally opposed to, and appalled at candy, but it means a lot to him so I try. Frankly I liked it better when in Russia he thought my granola bars were chocolate. :)

In this picture he is asking me the "why" question.

In this picture Sasha has discovered money from the Tooth Fairy for his second tooth. Too cute!

And this is Sasha seriously at work with his marble slide.

All in all Summer is a fun time! I hope you are enjoying your summer and God bless. Take care, Sarah

Families do what they do ...

I often think my posts are maudlin and I apologize if they seem a bit sad. As a family we are happy. As a family we often deal with difficult issues. There are the dramas and traumas but we are a family. When Sasha broke that slide in the latest pic we talked about it as a family, discussed the poor choices made and then got over it all.

Yeah I know the slide was only 10 dollars, but to Sasha is was part of his new water world theme park. It meant a lot. One of the hardest things I have had to learn is that what seems to be such a small thing to us is a literally mind-blowing experience for them. Sasha has no frame of reference about playing in a safe yard with simple toys. And so we work at getting him better.

And he is such a wonderful and happy boy. Everyday I know that God has blessed me with this child. And so this family does what we do. Everyday it is the same thing: get up, hang out a bit, eat, get dressed and go to work/school. Then go home hang out a bit, eat, put jammies on and go to bed. And repeat. That is the secret. An even family life.

That is no easy feat of course because I deal with my adult life issues and there are care taking hand off issues. And work issues. Just today something was seriously off in school because Sasha was off. Not bad or difficult but just "off."
But the family is happy. Sasha does so well, he cannot believe that all the love is truly there. He no longer questions me (most days) but love from the larger circle is still sinking in. So we continue. And that is the best thing of all.

Some days I cannot see the forest for the trees ...

I have been so busy in the forest I lost sight of the trees in Sasha's life. In Sasha's world, trees rule and a forest is yet unknown. At least that is what is seems like to me anyway. Such a difference in perspective does not lesson what we do, as a family, every day.

Sasha went back to school today after being home for a few weeks wherein he reacquainted me with his perspective on life. He is the most amazing little boy. He can catch flies by their wings, hold several of them clutched tightly in his fist, only to set them free later. He climbs the fence of our backyard as a lark and only comes back with at the threat of calling the police. (Oh my god!!!!) And he tells me stories. So many stories. I am at the point of simply wanting to find a quiet space so as to weep. And weep, and weep and weep. But as those who have young children know, there are few quiet spaces in the life.

And so we go. given Sasha suffered a failed prior placement we, as a family have all that baggage to deal with as we all go forward. And all that work in Russia for his cleft is now a problem.

Every day I praise God for the life saving surgeries Sasha got in Russia. Without them he would not be home today. He is here now and I now see some of the trees. We cannot really see what was done - it is all such a guessing game. And they sent me home with no documentation of what they did.

And of course he has pain. We went to see the reconstruction team this week and he had been telling me he hurts but in all the "blah, blah" he and I forgot to specifically tell them about it. Sasha is worrying about the pain and I am trying to not freak out while the team is confused about where to start. I told them if they could give Sasha an upper lip like his Mommas he would be happy. Later that day my Mama laughed and said it was a good thing my upper lip was so small - it gave the surgeons a reachable goal. So I laugh and I cry.

As a Mama I grieve over the physical damage done and the hard road back, yet the biggest issues for Sash are mental. They say that for every x number of months your child spends in an orphanage they will be delayed x number of months. Double that equation and then add a few. That is where I found Sasha. Months ago I kept saying I felt like I had a very young child in a six-year old body and it now seems I maternally understood what was going on. Sasha is currently an emotional two year old (maybe) in a soon to be seven year old body. Given his abuse history he also has an impressive array of survival/escape techniques that place my essentially toddler son in harms' way. A lot.

So Mama Sarah keeps chopping at the trees. And we keep talking to the head docs. The medical people have run so many tests. The medical reports are now coming in and they confirm what the Russian doctors said. My Sasha is okay but he has a disability. I told them that but they are doctors so they needed to confirm.

So we hold on tight and wait. And I fight. Sasha is currently in a year around day treatment program at school. My hope is they do their stint and I will keep chopping down those trees. And if someone can point me to a quiet corner so that I can weep I would be greatly appreciative.

Yeah - It is good to adopt! :)

As I read the comments everyone posted, I cried. There is so much love in adoption. Some of it spins out just a bit but it is all good. I am sorry I have not posted in a few days - work continues to bite the big one and I had complications from dental surgery. I will not discuss work other than to refer people back to an earlier post when I noted they refused leave (a federal agency no less) for me to go pick him up in Russia. Idiots. They later reversed themselves over a weekend via work email and then later "told" me they never did the deed. As my son would say - "stupid." I will also not talk about the dental incident other than to say, "if anything can go wrong in my mouth it will." And it did.


It is good to adopt. And it is good to focus on your child during the adoption. I was so focused on Sasha coming home and it sustained me. Now that he has been home a few months, the pictures I treasured as my heart yearned to be a Mom are relegated to the dark corners of a drawer per the kid. It is because Sasha wants pics of his life here.


My son does so well. If you had asked me in the "before time" I would had said I was not the best Mom for an active little boy. Yet, now that he is here I find my sense of self. I cannot imagine myself other than his Mom. And Sasha cannot imagine a life other than me being Mom. I thank God everyday my Mom was such a good role model and is there daily for constant "huddles." I could not do it otherwise.

Tonight he asked in Russian (and this is not a good translation) who I was as I existed - much like what would be the word to describe me if I was an object like a building or a mountain. I told him I am Sasha's Mom - Sarah. That is a description that he is starting to find comfort in.

One of the things my adoption agency failed to inform me about is the fact that Sasha has already suffered a failed family placement in Russia. What is coming out is that particulars concerning a Mama "there" have followed him home to America. That complicates all his issues for sure. And it complicates how he interacts with me. And a certain cadre of familial particulars. But we are getting the job done. And we simply let him talk. And hug. And talk some more. And talk some more.

I would not trade it for anything. I love giving him all that he needs. I love having the bandages, both physical and mental, ready to apply. I love the daily, hourly discussions about when SpongeBob might "be back." Sasha now has his bedroom decorated in "SpongeBob." It makes him happy. Me maybe not so much. The Bob is just so yellow, square and just so - so - so so. I just don't know. :)

I love arguing with him about the vitamin supplements that he takes after the meds. Apparently the calcium supplement sucks taste-wise and everyday is a battle wherein we try to think of new ways to ingest that silly gummy. I love watching him grow physically, emotionally and mentally. While the Momma in me wants to clutch the moments of a young child who might still need a rock or a cuddle, I see everyday how he is pushing into his future with a fearlessness that is awe inspiring. Watch out world, my son Alex is coming - and he is so amazing.

And I SOOOOOOO love being a Mama. :) Take care, Mama Sarah

Do You Know Why You Adopt(ed)?

I thought I did. My father had adopted before I was born and knew all my days how loved those children were. I was the unexpected child of a late remarriage so the family was pretty much set before me. Yet I was loved along with everyone else. There were a few years there where I wasn't sure of who of the children were family or children of my parents' best friends. Hence my early years were full of kids and love- and they were everywhere, in the best sense. I wish every kid had that kind of a start given it gave me an unshakable sense of love, security and community.

I had the best Dad anyone could ever hope for - he was so wonderful. Such an inspiration. And then I have an older brother who adopted and I knew how wonderful that family was - so complete and full of love. And then my life led to Sasha coming home through adoption. He is the child of my heart and there is nothing I would not do for him. He giggles now. There is no better sound in the world.

I suspect how parents handle the problems of their children depends on why they adopted. I wanted to make a difference in the life of a child. I wanted to be a parent like my Dad. Don't get me wrong, everyday it is my Mom who helps me get through the day right now with Sasha and she is doing a totally amazing job. I could not go on without her. Yet my Dad, whom I lost young, was an amazing inspiration too. As an adoptive parent on the other side I now understand all the special things it takes to make it work for both the children and the adoptive parent. Some days I still wish he was here. I wish he was here if only to tell him that I understand how a parent can love so much.

Now I know. I wanted to hold a small hand while walking down the street, talking about silly things. That is one of the best things about being a mom - talking about the silly things. I wanted to give a child what my parents gave me - love. And I now get to do that - everyday. Those are the best memories of my childhood - a beloved parent sitting there with me as I ate a cookie or chattered. I thank God I can give that sense of love and peace to a child now. I also thank my parents for teaching how to nuture such that even the broken heart of a child can seek solace and comfort. And heal. Thank God for that.
Oh yeah, Sasha remains a handful. He lost another baby tooth and is asking for higher payout from the princess tooth fairy. Sasha has also refined his "run away" techniques such that there was an Amber Alert called a few weeks ago and his clutching of a really big pink stuffed pig while he ran through downtown and gave his Mama serious stress - I now live in running shoes. :) Even this week, he decided the head doc's office was not where he wanted to be so his beahvoir totally spiked - on a wow factor chart of 0-10 he was a 50.
Yet, I would not trade it for anything. He is my son. And everyday he makes such amazing progress. I live in awe of this child as he struggles and overcomes. And everday, in my heart, I thank my father for being such an amazing role model of how to be a parent. I adopted because I wanted to give back the love my parents gave to me. I wanted to cause joy in the life of a child. Do you know why you adopt(ed)?

We lost a tooth recently :)

That was a lot of fun - Momma got to play tooth fairy! I seem to remember something like a quarter for a tooth but Sasha did much better. The tooth fairy left him five, count them, five dollar bills. The dentist recently told me he had two baby teeth left that would be gone by the end of the year at the latest so I was prepared for one of the front bottom ones to go soon.

To me his teeth are precious, I would have paid a fortune for even just one. When he began wiggling that one on the bottom front right I called and/or talked to everyone I knew. What to pay - I didn't know. Another thing, I remember accidentally swallowing a tooth that fell out so I constantly worried that I would miss this baby tooth from my little one. Not to worry. Sasha is well trained by the orphanage. He simply pulled it out - even before it was ready to really go. I think we have negotiated that the last tooth can be lost without help. He kept telling me it was broken and I keep saying it is simply a baby tooth - let it be.

So I restrained myself from dropping a fortune on Sasha's tooth loss. Some day, when he is a big hulk of a guy, I will pull that precious tooth out the the safety deposit box and tell how it is one of my most precious possessions. That is the joy of being a Mom.

A Sobering Thought ...

Many people have asked me - how many children are adopted out of Russia? I just found the total for 2008, the year Sasha came home and it is 1865 children. 1865 children made it to their forever families. That is everyone that found a home outside of Russia. That is an amazing number. It is a scary number. I know specifically of at least 10 of those children (besides Sasha) and the wonderful parents and lives they now have. That leaves 1854 that were incredibly blessed. And then I remember those left behind. And I am certain we do not do enough.

These children need homes. As difficult as this kind of choice may be, people still need to step up to the plate and "hit that ball." I will agree it is difficult. But it needs to be done.

Sasha is proof that it is worth it. He has blossomed so much in the short time he has been home. That is not to say the emotional and mental baggage he carries is not difficult at times. Recently we did a stint in emergency surgery that I suspect is tied to depression and suicidal issues. But we got through it. And we continue to get through it everyday. The most amazing thing is that there are people out there that can and will help.

That is the trick - to simply get through it. It is so worth it. I would not trade this joy for anything.

And I think of the children I saw left behind and the 1865 number terrifies me. There are over a million children in Russia alone in orphanages of which at least 60,000 are available for adoption to us in America (and other countries) today. That is a number that creates a somber moment. Even in the midst of my working to save Sasha my gaze turns back, over my shoulder, and hears the pleas of those left behind. I continue to remember the second day of the first visit when many of the older boys lined the wall facing the van and faces they made. They will haunt me until the day I die.

Because I did not adopt a baby and my son was in a remote area, when I went to the orphanage I heard the other children as they called out to "please take me too." Of course I could not. I was there to save Sasha. But I wish someone else would go with me and save these children.

I fear what the number for 2009 will be given the economy. May God watch over the babies.


And yeah, we do much better. Sasha is getting a lot of good help these days. Just last night a lot of the mental poison seemed to come forth in a sort of jumbled mass. Coming forth good, jumbled not so easy to work with. Yet it all helps to make it better.

Knowing he was sent out into the night where he thinks monsters still live gives me the understanding to show him how he is never sent out into the night here (and maybe he can stop bending the blinds looking for them!!). Just last night he told me how he was put out in the rain without cover (by the older kids). Now his obsession with umbrellas make sense!! My mom is so sweet, she now wants to buy him the next umbrella they see at the store. We live in the Pacific Northwest which is technically a rain forest so stores have umbrellas for sale at the entrance. Sasha could acquire a lot of "bumper shoots" soon.

Anyway, back to the original thought - 1865 is not an acceptable number. My Sasha is proof of that

I bought a new camera and haven't figured it out yet ...

There are new pics I want to share but I have not found the cable to connect the new camera to the computer so that I can download the new pics! Silly reason not to share, but there you go. Lots of silly things happen in life.

So we are trying new meds. Who knew a kid could be so severely depressed and suicidal at 6 but it can happen I learn things everyday. It is so hard to keep him safe. Just today he hatched a plan to hide so that he could run out into the street. I saw him, screamed and he literally hugged the shadows so as to run back into the backyard, go through the back doors and yell "why was Mama screaming?!?" The little bugger. I was in a seriously grumpy mood about the whole incident for awhile.

We have the best people helping us. New meds are being put in place and it looks better. The school psychologist from his old school could not believe the difference in him since she saw him last. Sasha is now in a special school that deals with other children who are suffering from things such as post traumatic stress disorder. While I want to set down in the kindergarten school room, cuddle all the babies and cry (who knew there were so many!!!), I am grateful Sasha is with people who know how to deal with the damage.

The best part of today is that we got lots of outdoor toys because the next couple of days are going to be pretty warm so I know how my seriously active son would love hours outside. Now he has ooddles of fun. The lady behind us in line at Target today was trying to tell Sasha how rare it is to see a child be given so much in today's economy - but of course Sasha paid her no attention. That is the attitude that got him home. It is what makes me smile everyday. It is with God's grace we continue. Thank you for all the prayers.

So what if you did not get there in time?

I may not have been in time for Sasha. That is a question I struggle with everyday. Time is such a relative question. Time and the question it poses for abused children remains dark. The question of "Am I in time?" is something I struggled through the entire adoption process. I was one of those adoptive parents that had my paperwork done within the first month. And then there were delays. And more paperwork requested. And more delays. Blah, blah, blah.

Sasha is now home and we are trying to unravel it all for him. Everyday, as the parameters of my life erode in an attempt to save him, I think how did it happen?

• Did anyone tell me this would happen if Sasha left Russia - no they did not.
• Did I do anything wrong - no I did not!
• Did family, friends or work do anything wrong - no they did not!
• Did Sasha do anything wrong - no he did not!

So every day I find nothing but hell. Sasha pretty much worsens by day. There is no real place to turn. Friends and family are done. Work keeps me on but I wonder how long. The American doctors are now turning down the mood modification drugs and starting at level one. So far so good - no seizures. Just really, really outrageous behavior.

At the end of the day I ask myself - did I get there in time? If you ask me I would say no - I did not get there in time to save the Sasha that once was. I am simply trying to save what is left.

I ask you - how hard is that? And yeah, sometimes I cry.

Today I stayed home

I would have preferred work. The day started like any other Sasha "out of control" day. Some danger to a cat was involved. So I stayed home. When he is like this only I can deal with him. And I am the only one he will let deal. So it goes.

And Sasha's hand is in my jacket pocket and I am trying to not cry because today is another day I will not bike to work. Today is another day I will not actually be at work to do what I love. Today is another day I will not hit the gym or treadmill. Today is a day I will be there for Sasha. It is gruelling. Mom and I sort of trade off on catnaps to deal.

At some point all that early work I did in law comes out and I start asking Sasha how did the orphanage deal with all of his behavior? Yeah I am pretty miserable but mostly I just want to know what he can tell me. I am not proud but I used all those silly litigator tricks I so hate. I was so tired of him hurting not just me but my Mom and those who once thought of me as a professional. So I probed. God forgive me.

It started all coming out. Oh my god. At one point when Sasha is telling me, I do not believe I correctly understand so I reach for the dictionary as he continues to tell. I did not misunderstand. He has the scars to provide proof. Small and almost indiscernible but there. And so not natural. I look as he shows. I try to be accepting and nurturing but when he turns away I cry.

A little later, there is a point of escalation again and then we are talking about a little boy Sasha knew who still had a bottle in his hand. Given everything I think that little boy is no longer here with us. Sasha desperately searched the last day pictures at the orphanage to see him without avail.

Then Sasha crawls into my arms and pats my back in comfort. I cannot seem to stop the crying. And Sasha continues to comfort me. He comforts me. Like a guide giving comfort to a newbie to hell. Sasha feels bad that it hurts for me but he needs to tell more than cares for my hurt. And that is how it should be. That is how it should because how else would he know his mother is strong enough to be there for him. Of course I am.

I remember the closing comment in Deborah Gray's acknowledgement section of Nurturing Adoptions: Creating Resilience After Trauma wherein she said "[m]y heart was broken long ago by life and by children's sufferings. I am grateful for God's love that fills my heart and shines through my brokenness."

I thought that life had broken me long ago. What I hear from Sasha breaks my mama heart anew. I could not have imagined. I thank my parents for that innocence. I cannot give Sasha that same innocence. I cannot give him that same illusion about the fragility of the curtain between life and death. What I can give him is a hand to hold. That is what I do. I would not trade that for anything.

Check out the new picture of Sasha !!

It is just to the left and was snapped tonight after we had a wonderful weekend. I also changed my profile picture to one that was taken the first day I met Sasha in Russia. I was so happy. And as Sasha shows today, we are still happy. We deal with stuff but that is what families do. And of course I am his Mom. I am the one that is always there for him. I am the Mom that sits up at night and worries about his stuff. So I have no identity issues there.

I know I have a therapist for the family that flinches when I talk about him having another Mom, but of course he does, and I do not want him to confuse me with her. Unlike most adoptive families, Sasha and I have the same coloring and green eyes. Even in Russia people kept mistaking us for a biological family. And given the extent of everything, I want Sasha to know I did not leave him there in hell - I only came to bring him home. And others in my family, like my dad and older brother, have adopted and I understand how kids need to know. And I am okay with that. And there are still others in my family that were sheared from their heritage and left to drift in American society. That caused a sense of loss I would never give someone I loved. Ultimately, it is a balance. It is a gift a mother gives her child. Something with joy and richness that makes small of the unfortunate parts.

Anyway, back to the weekend. It was great. Finally, I started working on the front yard that is a Portland Oregon kind of thing. I am working on making the entire front yard a flower bed. I have been working on it for a couple of years. I have the white picket fence in and this weekend I worked on trimming everything back, putting in a few new perennials and hanging the gates. Sasha dug out weeds and began a really big hole for the eventual transplanting of the star magnolia tree.

Of course we had to go and buy Sasha outdoor shoes, gloves, a watering can and a little bucket before it could all commence. And then Sasha wanted his own shovel and rake. I can recommend the shovel: it kept him amused for hours. And our yard is doing great. Tomorrow I will work on finishing the transplant site with Sasha and then we will move the magnolia tree from the back to the front. It is still pretty small, but it needs to be moved this year or it will be too late.

Sasha loved it all. He has never really been allowed to go outside and dig. Russian caretakers are so careful about some things - Sasha had never played in the snow or was taught how to deal with mud. He loves it all, it is just so new for him.

And then tonight, he went to bed, no screaming. When I was walking out of the room he said "thank you for the gifts." He didn't need to - and he knows that - he just was happy. Check out the picture.

Good night and God bless, Sarah

And then people help you remember why

So today was not one of our better days, but then I think we will continue to have a lot of those kinds of days. Yesterday I was trying to ask him why (why, why why!) ... and then I told him ... I just flat out told him ... you know how you wished for a mom, I wished for a son too. And you were the son I wished for. That observation got through. He understood. Of course today he was over the emotional wall in joy (with all the smashing and hanging of things that it involves) but he knows he was wished for and is loved.

At the end of the day it is as a colleague of mine noted, so few of us are allowed the opportunity to save someone and that is an amazing opportunity. That is true. I would not wish for my son to be anywhere else.

At the same time I would wish to worry less for his well being. He is so trying to recreate the hell he came from. While I continue to seek out professionals to help, we are also starting to see the suicide tendencies. Just today Mom went upstairs and found that Sasha had found a cord and tied it around a pole with a loop. He was frantically trying to cut the cord (with kindergarten scissors) and hiding it with his body. What do you think was going on?

At least I think I finally heard the name of his most egregious abuser. Or maybe it is just the name of the enforcer because it is a really strange and funny face he gets when I try to talk about it. If I could, I would get back on that plane to Vlad to look up this kid - maybe in the summer. What he did to my son is not good. I see it in Sasha's eyes.

A neighbor of mine is telling others on the street that there is something seriously wrong with me because Sasha screams in the house (she never had kids) - at the top of his lungs. A lot. And I do not come out of the house and "chat" with her anymore. People have begun to look past my Mom (who is here at home with him in the day) and nobody seems to "see me" anymore - even when I wave. The kids from the student house across the way called over last week about "what is wrong with Sasha." I said, as I had him under my arm, he is just having another tantrum. They have now moved from the student housing but they gave me their forwarding address, "just in case."

I do not know whether to be charmed or really mad. On one hand people are concerned and are offering help. On the other hand, if they think there is a problem they should totally call the cops!!!!!

Sasha is doing the best that he can given what he has been through. And I am the one that was given amazing opportunity to be there for him. And yeah when the days disintegrate like today I am sad. I am sad because I saw my son in mental pain today. It was also a day where I had to cancel going to Target to get him his garden assortment. That trip to the store is so what I wanted for him today but is still so far from his ability to be in the world. And so, tonight was a hand in the pocket. And then my son, my saved son, went quietly to bed.

Tomorrow I will work on how to address the knowledge of the name of the child who caused such devastating harm to my child.

And maybe I will not.

Hard to know - life in hell seldom allows the opportunity of choice.

I am learning too much about the particulars of hell - they totally suck. I just wanted to love a child who needed to be saved. I did that. I just did not know it would hurt so much.

My son just fell out of his bed onto the floor - I must go. But remember why - I saved a child that no one else would save, not even his mother. As that colleague of mine notes - that is the most amazing opportunity. Take care and god bless, Sarah

I really should carry that camera around ...

Despite everything you can tell I am such a new mom - I keep forgetting the camera! On Tuesday, we went to the dentist because our ortho coordination doctor said to go. Of course I was dreading it so - Sasha doesn't do well in a relatively bare examine room - there was no way would he do well in a dentist's chair with the trays of instruments and all the "moving parts." Amazingly enough he did FANTASTIC!!! Absolutely fantastic. He sat in the chair allowed them to xray his mouth (he would not let that happen at the children's hospital), clean his teeth and give him a fluoride treatment. Oh my god!!!!!

The child that would dismantle everything in a medical doctor's exam room in order to escape simply was a delight at the dentist. He knew how to do that spit catch thing, etc. Obviously, Sasha has seen the dentist a lot and it was a good experience for him. I had more trouble seeing the dentist (I saw her to that day too) than he did. And it made him so happy. We live for the happy days. And then when they happen we thank god.

Of course I fight for Sasha!!!!!

I too cannot see a future where I am not there to hold his hand. Of everything the most positive thing is our bond to each other. It happened on our first visit when nobody was watching. They left us alone for the most part that day and we made that magical connection. It has stood the test of time and it is that bond that makes me cry at night because I feel his hurt and lostness.

That bond is what made me fight so hard to get him home. And now the experts are coming in and confirming what I knew months ago: Sasha is in trouble. Ironically, I physically have him in a "better" situation and there is more risk. Now his issues can be addressed instead of simply being pushed down the hall and told to cower. I so hate, HATE when he assumes that position. And so I have taught my very stubborn son to argue. I have taught him to yell and scream when there are things he thinks are bad going on. (He screams a lot anyway so I already figure the ears are shot)

And argue he does. He still does the insane, crazy things but now he also argues about perceived injustices. So when I turn off SpongeBob because we have to leave the house he can now yell about it but I insist on words. He can even call me kaka, but he has to tell why he yells.

Of course some days are going better than others. And last night he wet the bed for the first time since being home. I have to wonder if that is a test. Or maybe relaxing into the life. When I discovered it this morning, I told him accidents happened. And then I moved him to the living room couch and stripped the bed. He assumed the position I HATE. And started the whole "please don't beat (or kill ????) me - I'm sorry." I HATE that whole drill. In moments like that I know he is not manipulating me - he is simply seeking survival from the unintentional infringement of a rule. OMG. My family life so did not prepare for this kind of hell.

But you know, I am there for him. By the end of the day, it was all good. I continue to believe that lots of love and interaction with his Mom (as she is coached by love and therapists) will turn all this to sucess.

Then again we are already successful. When I am sad and feeling a little overwhelmed my mom always says to me: just imagine if you had left him in Russia. Imagine what his chances at a life would be like. I do and then I wipe my tears, blow my nose and buck up. There is another day tomorrow where I will stomp on or over any person in the way of the best interests of my child. It is another day wherein Sasha will need close in parenting in order to heal. I love my son so it is all good.

Oh yeah, the specialists are telling me if I was not a single mom this adoption may have already disrupted. No marriage may be strong enough to survive such hell. Something to think about.

We are beginning to head down the road to residental treatment

The reports are starting to come in and it is not good. Today I was counseled about what is going on, in preparation for the final report. I was told the final "words" do not necessarily mean admittance to a mental care facility but then that "but" hovers in the air.

Of course it is the early days yet so I hold out hope that medication and cognitive therapy will work for Sasha. Ironically, the specialists are finding us attached. I, frankly, would give anything for attachment disorder issues. If that were our worst problem, I would feel so lucky.

Instead I found my son yesterday tied to the banister wherein he used the arm of his shirt to fasten himself to one of the posts. When I asked him what was going on he just laughed and laughed and laughed.

I will continue to work at solving this problem for Sasha because I love him. The adoption agency I went through, Children's Hope International, totally sucks!! A day and a half into me having physical custody of Sasha, they told me it was due to my "inconsistent parenting." Of course that is not true. Even today they told me that if I had been a "bad" parent it still would not have caused the situation Sasha is in today. I so totally do not like the adoption agency people. They do very very bad things to people wanting a family.

And so it goes. Please pray for us.

So I added an new little ditty to the left that seems to sum up loving a lost child. My dear heart friend posted this and it so resonated with me about how I go through my days I had to take it as part of my own. I hope D. is not offended (I strongly suspect not)

And that is how it goes. Last week was hell. Last weekend was hell. And the nights, oh my god the nights. While I speak some Russian, even today I do not truly understand all the swear words Sasha flings at me. Standard university language classes do not teach such things. Just last night I finally understood one of them, though mime. Totally yuck.

Yet, today, he was good with babushka while I was at work. Even once I was home he was great for most of the night. He tasted all the veggies I cut up and made sure to lick all the utensils I used to make cookies (that was a highlight of my childhood too). What a sweetie.

The day went pretty much as expected

And maybe it was better in some ways. Sasha is getting comfortable with the waiting area of the children's hospital (we go there a lot) and he commandeered the tv with Sponge Bob on it. When we went to his first visit, because we had done audio testing before, it went well. He remembered the lady, her toys and how the testing game went. Just in case you are wondering, Sasha can hear fine. Even the slight decrease in one ear is still within normal range.

Then we went to the second visit with the orthodontic doctor and all craziness broke out. Running, screaming and kicking - and that was before the doctor came in. When Sasha started swearing at me in Russian his interpreter was shocked, truly shocked. I told her that was nothing, he says a lot more most of the time. As Alex at work warned me before I went over the second time to Russia, orphanage kids begin swearing at a really young age, so do not be shocked if he swears. Sure enough, even though I refuse to ask any Russian what he says or look it up in a slang dictionary, the words he uses are pretty bad.

Back to the visit. Even though the doctor was up front with Sasha, the little bugger still escalated his behavior. Finally, the doctor was able to count Sasha's teeth but x-rays were not possible. The doctor noted, as does everyone else, it is the behavior issues that really need to be addressed first. No kidding.

So we left that appointment early, with Sasha screaming at the top of his lungs and yelling he would not go home with me but with his interpreter. Veronica, being the sweetie that she is quickly disappeared while I went the other way.

Sasha continued to yell and scream for no apparent reason. On the elevator and off. People just looked at me. There were moments in the lobby where I distracted him and got him to calm but it was like he remembered the agenda and started the screaming again. In the turnaround where Mom picked us up he escalated to wriggling so as to run away and trying to bang at things and all that screaming was echoing off the buildings given it is a close area. And it was really high decibel screaming. I was never so glad that I had to go back to work today. At least I got Sasha to finally calm down enough so that Mom could take him home.

And so, I hope that tomorrow is a little better. But maybe it won't be. It is too bad because tomorrow is the one year anniversary of when Sasha and I first met. I was hoping to do a little something nice but maybe not.

Today the interpreter asked me why did I go to another country and adopt a child from an alien culture. Today I could see how it must look like from the outside - an insane choice with no upside. Even though I know God called me to this child, today it really felt like that - an insane choice with no upside.

Ironically, what I experience with Sasha is not because he was a foreign adoption. Just today, someone told me how their daughter's American adopted child is in the same extreme end of reality. So it is not a locality based issue, it is a matter of offering to take care of children that have been put at risk. Sometimes those of us who wade in to help get there sooner rather than later. I wanted to be there for Sasha sooner and waited a year and a half. Later is not so good.

On Thursday we go to the behavior evaluation clinic which just happens to be in the same general area of the same children's hospital. Sasha is a lucky boy to be able to be seen by two speciality clinics in a very good children's hospital. Maybe the Thursday all day evaluations will yield something more than tests not done and the observation that "behavior issues really need to be addressed."

I do not like ending my day by crying. And this where I ended up tonight, crying, just a bit. Not because of any particular thing but just because it is so hard to simply endure the basically abusive behavior from Sasha. Good thing I have lots of stuff to do tomorrow (not Sasha related) or I think I would heed that call to give into the grief.

What a little boy Sasha can be!

First about the ear/school testing thing. None of the parents who do this kind of adoption are without resources. The schools totally fail at helping children if they are in need. The public school test done on Sasha's hearing (without my approval) simply failed him at hearing. No help there. Yet, he is seeing specialists already because cleft children have ear involvement and issues. I can tell you how much he may hear and how much he does not. More importantly, because I learned enough to Russian hear it correctly, I can now hear how his English pronunciations flatten or "miss" the same tonal qualities we all complain about in his Russian speech. It is not that one cannot understand it, but it is just seriously garbled. Same with Sasha's English. If I had not been able to hear it in both languages, I would not understand that to a large extent Sasha simply cannot hear a lot of sounds. He garbles what he hears - garble. No wonder he thinks we are all such idiots that cannot understand him!!!!

So get your children's' ears checked and do not listen to the people who hear.

On to the personal stuff. Last night, when Sasha was in bed the orphanage discussion happened (his idea not mine). I totally hate those talks. I know he needs them but don't like them. Such talks never go too well. Hence, he did not wake up in a good mood today. And it was a day I HAD to go work. So my Mom took over. I got the requisite messages with him screaming in the background for no apparent reason. My mom is so cool, she was absolutely insistent that I stay at work, despite the screams, so as to deal with all that happens in the work day.

I think for Sasha, the happier he is and the better it gets, the more he kind of goes out along the edges of appropriate social interaction. He does not do it to be mean or bad but I think he goes out there to find out if life now is what it seems to be. And life is good. He may spend a lot of time with his hand in my jacket pocket (a recommended time-in approach) but he does okay.

And maybe I am just his Mom and love him. I so want him to be okay. And I want him to have a good weekend because next week will a bit of an uphill for him. We go see some of the cranio-facial people on Monday to help speed along the close order drill to surgery. So that day and the next, Tuesday will totally suck. I now schedule the day following medical visits as "freak out" days for Sasha because that seems to be the pattern. And who can blame him - not me.

Of course Thursday will not be great either. That will be an all day evaluation to assess Sasha psychiatric health, from a multi-specialist view. That means Friday will be a bonus day. Maybe Sasha will finally be given something to help him not live in "flashback" mode.

However it goes, this family will be okay. Even tonight my little Sasha sleeps, safe at home. May god bless you all, Sarah

Life is quiet today ...

Work is insane but life with Sasha went okay. I have pretty much decided to take him out of school. While Sasha was making amazing progress on interacting with children, the administration at school is simply too pedantic. They remain narrow-minded and simply continue to attempt to "stuff"Sasha into their rules. Sasha has already had a lifetime of "stuffing" and simply will not comply. At home he is NEVER taught to simply comply. Not even if it would make my day a bit quicker.

What I have now learned is that when he disintegrated last week at school, there was a really good reason - it is just that no adult told the whole story. And kids already conditioned to abuse cannot tell us "why." A survivor such as Sash just simply makes sure he gets free.

Back to the school pedantic problem. It seems so silly really - they gave him a hearing test and the central office sent me a note that he had failed the test. A couple of things trigger for me at this point, once I realize what is going on.

No one told me they were going to do the test. Sasha totally disintegrates with any medical procedure, no matter how nice the person doing the testing. Hence my almost daily badgering of the clinics to ensure our regular interpreter, Veronica, is at all medical appointments. But the school did the test, even knowing he has been traumatized in such settings.

Sasha disintegrated to get away from the unsafe people at school performing medical procedures without his mom there or the interpreter that mom always makes sure is there when he is in scary situations. That is what would any of us do when so isolated from our protections and then forced to endure. We would all scream, yell and have to be physically subdued too. Anything to be free of the terror of pain.

Sasha is right, in his little boy way, the people at school are not safe. They traumatized him. For no good reason. So now I will work on what to do. I did not bring Sash home so as to have him subjected to further abuse. I will pound, into the ground, anyone who attempts anything more against this little boy who is my beloved son.

All school board events are now on my calendar. Nobody takes a swing at my kid anymore. Nobody.

That is not to say he wasn't an irritating little bugger tonight because he was - there was some serious "time-in" tonight. But I did not traumatize him when I gave him space for his humanity.

There was light in our world today

First: for the lady who asked, my adoption agency was Children's Hope International.

Sasha woke up in his normal happy way - and stayed that way. We did nothing different. It was just a better day for him. I thank God for that. And I thank everyone for your prayers.

And so it went. Last night, when he was eating his cookie, he suddenly hopped up from the table, came into the kitchen were I was cooking and he told me "I'm safe." Nothing more. Then he ran back into the dining room and finished his cookie.

Maybe that had something to do with it. Also, my Mom went by the cable company to get a converter box for the television upstairs. Sasha was over the moon about that. Most cable channels come across that tv but not Nic or Disney. Over the weekend I had fixed his "broken" tv and dvd player but hadn't told him yet it was working again. My kid, the genius, is always taking things apart or "rearranging" them. A couple of weeks ago, he was in the tv/playroom and suddenly a very load zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzap was heard throughout the house. Sasha had done something to make all the machines go dark. For him that was a tragedy because at first I couldn't figure out what he had done and I was clear I was not going to buy him a new system. So he was devastated.

This is the kid that somehow shorted out a light socket and everything on that wall of the house the first week home from Russia. I have no idea what he did. And it took an electrician to fix it. When I first called the electrician and explained the problem he asked if the kid was still alive. They had to replace all sockets on that circuit breaker. So when I heard the zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzap upstairs I knew something serious had happened.

Finally I did figure out how to fix the problem. But as attached as Sasha is to SpongeBob I do not think that is why he had such a great day. I just think that the monsters did not dog his steps today. When I went upstairs tonight to get him for bed the entire second floor was not ablaze in light. Sasha had only turned on lights in the hallway and in the tv/playroom. The rest of the rooms were dark. I think that must be some kind of important milestone.

And so it goes. For those who posted regarding yesterday's entry, thank you. There are three reasons I still post comments on this blog. First, is for Sasha. I feel that if I do not speak for him then how will anyone know what he is going through. Second, I do it for all the other parents out there. When I called St. Louis (the home office for the adoption agency) in an absolute panic about the crazy kid in my hotel room in Vladivostok, they told me I was providing "inconsistent parenting" to him. He had only been with me a day and a half. And that is what their message to me remained to be. Since Sasha is on the outer limits of being damaged, if I let others know what is looks like here, then maybe it is easier for others to see some behaviors are not so bad. Just give it some time. And maybe lots of therapy.

Finally, I still post on this blog for myself. So many times I have almost shutdown this posting site because some of my deepest hurt is expressed here. And yet, I know that I need others to know. I also treasure the kind words and thoughts. And I continue to hope that the postings here will turn from the dismal to the joyful. Because I still see Sasha as my miracle in Russia.

Yeah - it was a day ...

Before I get into it, please let me say this - if, in the middle of it all you simply set down and hold your child tight and pray, then you get it. In hell there is no reason, no sense of up or down - you just simply hold on to those you love. And so that is what I do. And I have a Mom to help me - thank god. She taught me how to love and be there.

Enough of that for now - I am considering other avenues about the Vanya problem. I may be able to do nothing but I least I will think about other agencies as options. Also, while my son clutches for him even tonight in sleep, that child may not be available for international adoption. Only about 6 to 7 percent of children in these institutions can potentially come home to America, or Italy or where ever. I highly recommend the Russian film The Italian so as to understand current romantic Russian cultural myths opposing our saving of the babies. Whatever I do, today, tomorrow, next year or the even the next decade, I will have to explain it to my little boy who even now is sleeping with his arm stretched out to hold the missing child.

An added complication to my personal path is the fact that I was also sponsoring children through the agency that facilitated Sasha's adoption and was abruptly cut off from further contact with them last year. I had hoped to visit them during the second trip because I so wanted to meet them. Though I asked, I was refused. The reason given the "foster sponsors" was that contact was being severed because money from the adoption family fees could no longer support the program. If the "house" director agreed, then visitation could be arranged. I send a letter to the Dom Director but never heard anything back.

I worry about the older children I was sponsoring. After much trouble, I had finally gotten them a recent photo of their youngest brother who was at another orphanage, some distance away. I had asked the agency if there was any way to get them into a program to visit the US over the summer (there are several). No response. There was never any substantive response. So my support of those children was ended. No ability to really try and find them.

I have their sponsor pictures framed and someday I will tell Sasha about it all. I sponsored them in love before I heard the call to save him.

So onto today. It was not so great. It started with Sasha jumping into my bed and then physically harassing a cat. Given it was pre-coffee for me that all sort of cranked me out. I went and got coffee but that is the general sense of how the day went.

I am currently telecommuting because, well, just because. And no, work isn't being okay. They are silent but not okay.

Back to Sasha, his behavior did not go so well today. We all look forward to the phyc eval. And meds. And therapy sessions. There are times I look into his eyes and the boy I know as Sasha is simply not there. It is the freakiest thing. I call to him, he says his name is not Sasha and then will not tell me who is there.

And so I just hold him and love him. And when I need to leave the house, Mom is here until I return. And today, at the end of the day, the Sasha I know came home. He came home after my Mom was gone and he had been fed astronomical amounts of food. Gone was the screaming for no reason. Gone was the chasing of cats so as to harm them. He went in and straightened his toys. He attempted to make his bed. He straighted all the throw rugs on the hardwood and represented it all with flourish.

And that is how my life limps along. A crazy boy lives in my house and we all move to shelter insanity. Safely. Until something can be done. Despite American cultural myths, the insane are not put away rather they are foist upon their near contacts. Those in desperate mental need of help are simply turned away. They are sent home. Without the needed medical support. Those who love them are left to cope alone. And sometimes those insane people run into traffic. My boy did. I have heard of others too in the local area. In the case of Sasha, none of us know how he survived. It was a really busy street. Maybe the hand of God saved my son.

At the end of the day, I simply do not know. How do I get ready for tomorrow? But of course I will because that is my job as Sasha's mom - I will be there for him.

Has your child asked you to bring someone else from the orphanage????

Sasha has asked me. Funny thing about the seriously damaged ones, routine in our silly American lives makes them feel safe. We have crazy days but at the end his world is safe - lots of food and no abuse. Yesterday Sasha asked me if I could bring Vanya home. I know who Vanya is - he is in the pictures we took on our final day. He is a child I would have tucked into my arms and bags as I left with Sasha - no question.

Vanya is a little boy who had serious disassociate manifestations when I was there. What must he be like now?!?!? And how do I answer Sasha? I am not even on good terms with the adoption agency who facilitated my adoption of Sasha. Given Sasha was only the third child out of Spaak (the first two went to a wonderful family at the same time) other options do not look good. Nobody even went to Spaak to check on Sasha in between my first and second trip.

When Sasha is in the early part of his sleep it was clear he is clutching another child. Possibly Vanya? I do not know but I would like help the other child Sasha concretely cares about in his sleep. Maybe it will happen without Sasha and me. I hope so but the odds seem so dismal. That orphanage is so distant. It is far from the main path of life. I was there and life in this orphanage was not good. And nobody came for these children. Every night I wait to "not see" Sasha clutching the air in his sleep for the form of a child now not sleeping with him. Mamas do not replace "survivors in kind," we merely love and promote healing, after the fact. Every day I seek the guidance of God to get to where Sasha needs me to be.

And so it goes. Every day I ask God to watch over these children - the ones left behind. Their faces will haunt me for the rest of my life. And so I will continue to tell their story. - Sarah

Sasha has gained 1 inch and a 1/2 since coming home!!!!

I look forward to the discussions about him being hungry and what he gets to eat. The other day he was complaining that he had never seen his stomach kind of round out "like that." And his clothing is small. I am over the moon. And Sasha is carefully happy because he is growing bigger.

Thank you everyone - I love you all so much. The kind words mean so much. K and D I can feel your prayers surround us. I feel your love and arms surround us. Thank you. And do not worry, none of us can know how to proceed through such insanity. God is the only way through.

Ironically, yesterday one of the psychologists that interacts with Sasha told my Mom he totally "adores me." When I heard I totally cried - again. That is too much responsibility. And what can it be based on anyway - realistically? Of course I love him but what does that mean in his vision of the world?

Another day at school did not go so well. I think a "readjustment" is in order. Despite Sasha now becoming almost violent in his insistence to go to school, it is simply beyond his ability to cope - no matter how much he wants it.

So I consider adjustments at home. We have a psyc eval coming up soon so I will simply make things comfortable for Sasha while we wait. Mom is working hard at it with me too.

It is so sad really. Sasha and I have to talk about where the monsters might be in between the eruptions. So far our house is okay, my Mom's vehicle passes muster as does her house. But the yard has monsters in it as well as any corner or nook. Thank god the dogs bark so much and scare them all away.

My childhood did not give me monsters in the corners of my life or on the outside of my home. My childhood only knew freedom and possibility. That is one of the things I cry for - my life experience is not Sasha's.

Some days I just cry

Before I talk about why I cry I would point out to anyone reading this blog that all the experts (and we are nearing the 40 person mark) are clear what I am experiencing with Sasha happens only a small percentage of the time. But it does happen. And so tonight I cry.

Ironically, historically I have not had much truck with criers. Maybe it was my Mom or maybe it was the marine dad but I always did that step up to the line and endure thing. And then my professional life has made me "battle hardened." And I generally do not find much in life that makes me sad enough to cry.

Watching Sasha suffer so much through each day makes me cry. This morning seemed like a good day. After watching wonder pets on Nic off he went to school. Within the hour I was called by the school to come get him because he was really flipping out. I literally ran to the school. There I comforted one of the student teachers who was with my mom. Things were calmer, maybe it would be okay. Then the paniced call came into the front office from the class room that he was flipping out again. Down the hall I ran. The teacher (who is totally wonderful) opened the door so that I could hear Sasha - he was snarling and then yelling he was a good boy - repeatedly. Please remember this is a kindergarten class. I get to the room and he is running to and from his "safe" place in the room while he is screaming. He sees me and escalates even further. He runs through the children seated on the floor trying to have a lesson while he is menancing them and screaming at the top of his lungs. Finally I nab the little bugger, put his hand in my pocket, apologize to his totally cool teacher and leave.

Sasha is screeching in the hallways - he has learned that the open spaces really magifiy the sounds of his outbursts. I take the nearest exit and sit on the stair so I can ask him why - why all the drama? All I get are snarls. My poor Mom she is often just pulled along in our dingy of insanity much like today. I walk Sasha to the truck and he momentarily becomes sane again - almost for no reason. That moment doesn't last long.

When we are home I work with him about the sad Sasha. The art therapy brings out in Sasha something that totally freaks me out. I personally would prefer to see monsters. Hell is not this bad.

But I nuture through it because I know we are seeing his doctor later today. So for awhile things marginally bump along. Then the whole doctor visit was a surreal experience. I have a permanent translator for Sasha assigned to all his medical appointments so at least that helps a little. But everything is so off the wall. It took us almost two hours for the doctor to listen to his lungs and heart. Mostly what we did was let him try to feel okay about the visit and then reschedule things like basic blood work to occur during his surgery. Sasha was so sweet, he kept shining every light in the room into his mouth so that the doctor could see, cause him some pain so that he would be free. When Meg refused to hurt him he started trying to hurt himself. Like if he has pain he is free. Oh my god, I had never seen life like that.

The need for immediate surgery is now driving all of us. Sasha had fairly extensive reconstructive surgery in country - all without bone grafts. I understand that those life saving surgeries in country gave Sasha a chance at life - I have seen the statistics and his weight doubled after those surgeries. What saved my son in Russia is now a problem. The doctors are not being explicit but even I get it from the idiot drawings they show me. Sasha is in trouble. So we all move. Quickly. And gently. It sort of reminds me of my offier training in the Air Force when we would practice a double time close march. We had the guy with the bugs bunny accent call it out because it was military and at some level we all understood as a call to survival.

And so that is why I cry. Sasha is in a double time close march concerning his physical well being. That close march has to occur irrespective of his state of sanity. He is so not ready for all of this. I am not ready.

But of course he must be. And I must be ready to. I looked in his mouth today and I think i saw temporary fillings in his teeth. I need to call our family dentist tomorrow. Oh my god.

Don't get me wrong I am not reactionary, I am just in a fast drill to save a child. I have been in that fast drill for over three years now. I am now just a little closer to the pain. That is not what makes me cry. What makes me cry is all the hurt Sasha manages through every day. Even when he is being that total monster, that is so not what he wants to be - in his eyes he is destroying the very life that he so wants. And he is so testing those in control as to see whether they will give up him. The paradigm is simple - the more he wants the more he destroys. The more he feels safe, the more he will act out so as to test those boundaries.

So I cry tonight. But I also feel better letting others know what rescuing a fully at risk child will entail. It requires your absolute dedication. And while I cry, I realize through the tears there are joys. The pain for your child just totally sucks.

And Then God Blessed Our Home Today

Today started like every other day. Most of the time Sasha wakes up happy, like today. And I never rush the moment from sleep to "getting going." Often times we cuddle on the couch and say our good mornings (in Russian and English) before we start the day with the taking of medicine, vitamins and breakfast. So things went along. I kissed him goodbye and Mom drove him the four blocks to school. Normally, I then get a call sometime during the morning to come and get him. That did not happen today. When Mom went to pick him up, he refused to leave school before the day was done.

God has blessed this family. Sasha was interacting with the kids - even strange kids - and did everything that everyone else did. He did school work, he did art activities!! A child who has never colored anything other than a mass of scribbles brought home a paper crown nicely multi-colored. It is a miracle.

When he got home he was a normal little boy. Active, jumping off furniture and generally running amok - but totally normal in a little boy way. He had such a good day. AND HE HAS FRIENDS!!!! My mom saw him playing with others in his class and when I asked him about it tonight he said they were his friends and then rattled off their names.

He is simply not the same child. And so the day ends in peace. Sasha is fast asleep and the Dalmatians are snoring away on the couch. Life is blessed. Thank you God. And thank you to everyone who has kept us in your prayers. It is deeply appreciated. - Sarah

It is true, I do love carrot juice. All through Russia I would ask for it, everyday. It does wonders for the morale and one's complexion. Since I have been home I have missed many days of pouring my morning glass of carrot juice. Even Sasha notes the mornings I remember.

Thank you C for reminding me of that. It takes me back to the first time we met, at the end of that long flight. You seemed so tired and yet so full of joy, I just knew you were another Mom just a little further down the path. I thank you for that memory.

Today was not such a great day. And Sunday was even worse. I think the hardest part may be staying sane and even through it all. Today, Mom took the worst of it. When Sasha went to school this morning he wanted to go (he has the choice every morning). By the time he got there he wanted to go home so Mom went back to my place. From there he deteriorated. He began his escalating abusive behavior. It is a situation that has become normal in the house. When it starts the dogs hide and the cats scatter.

Finally, Sasha was chucking plastic toys and pieces of furniture down the stairs at my Mom. That was in addition to the rote drama of biting, swearing and spitting (Mom particularly hates that part). And today was one of those days when I needed to be where I needed and to be - out of the house. So I spent a lot of time listening on the phone and praying.

In the end it seemed to be about a dvd. Ironically, once I figured that out and told Mom to give him the silly thing he had already broken his dvd player in the TV room. So now he has the dvd and nothing to play it on. And no, I will not fix or replace that dvd player anytime soon.

And so it goes. Most of tonight was done as a "hand in the pocket of my jacket night." When possible I asked him to sit on the couch for a few minutes of "still" time. Mostly I just wanted him to stop ranting. And being so extreme. Finally, he quieted and I could feed him. Now he sleeps, thank God. Tomorrow is another of those days where I have to be at work and not at home. I hope he does not rant tomorrow.

But he might and if he does we will cope. Our first post adoption visit is on Thursday. That should be fun. The adoption agency I went through has been less than supportive so this visit may be fun.

I often think about what I would say to that judge. Did we do the right thing??? Because, looking back I think only that judge and I have Sasha's best interests at heart. I do not know. Who was this adoption supposed to be right for??? Was it for the people I saw being paid off or for those I saw openly spending the money? Or was it for Sasha or me?

Or was it for Sasha's mother whom I saw watching us in the playground after the court date? As far as I can piece together she was hustled into court so as to reaffirm her relinquishment of rights just weeks before I was in country. I hope all CHI adoptions do not occur this way. The reason why I have this hope is because the woman I saw that day, after court, loved her son. She waited in the grounds of the hotel so as to simply see the woman she had been told would give her son a better life. She wanted to see if I was an okay person to take one of her children to raise as their own. I was so scared. It was my first day outside with Sasha, I saw her, he then turned to me to clutch, she stood up, crushed out the cigarette and walked away. I wish I had been able to chase after her that day so that we could have talked. But it did not happen.

In that instant I became the nurturer of another woman's son. This is a child feared for his medical condition but a child still worried after. I cannot imagine what it feels like to give up a bilateral cleft child after birth and to still worry six years later as to whether or not he can speak. And that is what she asked, just weeks before I was given custody - can he even speak? Today I would yell and drag Sasha after me while tried to get a moment to speak with the mother of the son I love. Not just for him but for me.

Also, I would prefer to not have days like today. Children left in institutions too long have monsters come to live within them. It is scary so see Sasha struggle with so much. He is a good kid. God save us all.

And so the week ends

It is so peaceful tonight. This peaceful moment inspires me let everyone know how wonderful Sasha is doing. I always seem to focus on the gritty reality but, at the end of the day, I am so hopeful about everything. I just want to let people know what it looks likes on the flip side of adoption. I want to do it because nobody told me I would be standing in the bathroom with my son this morning while he notices his pee has turned red. He was cool (and not freaked out) so I played it off but that is the reality of what it takes to treat his TB exposure in conjunction with all the other stuff he takes. And if he cries, his tears will be red and they will probably stain anything they touch. So that is why I talk.

Everyday, Sasha is working so hard on having a good life. He wakes up happy and generally tries (most of the time - okay maybe only sometimes :) ) to comply with the general routine. Today Mom was convinced this would not be a school day so I started the "that's okay" approach with Sash and he was irate. Today was a school day for him. Last night, in his bath he had practiced counting and colors. He was ready for today. So to school we went. He all but dragged me down the hallway and then proceeded to right his stuff on his chair so he could begin his day. His teacher came over and asked me if I could please talk to Sash about the computer cords because the day before he had pushed his teacher's panic button about them. We had that conversation and I also told the teacher Sasha had been testing to see if he had the panic button. That teacher is so cool that he immediately understood and it was okay.

We have gotten through the drama of the week and my little angel sleeps. He tries so hard to be a good boy - despite all the obstacles. Sasha just finished two days of school wherein they failed to give him his meds both days. Unbelievable!!! Yet, Sasha hung in there and it was only on the second day I got a call, 20 minutes before he was due to leave that it "was time, he wanted to go home." He is such a strong and amazing child!! And he is working soooo hard at coping with it all.

Of course yesterday we had to see the doctor that works on his TB exposure issue so last night he was living a nightmare. We did not even weigh Sasha but only talked about the switching him to a med that would not interfere with all the stuff he currently takes. No matter - in Sasha's view of the world all doctors suck!!! We did the drama and trauma thing with him sitting on my lap screaming and tearing at everything LATE AT NIGHT while I have Mom on the phone giving me moral support. AND THEN IT STOPPED. It simply stopped. He then just went into his room and went to sleep.

I think that every time he sees a doctor all hell breaks loose - literally. I decided this morning that I had seen enough of the pattern that I now have all days after doctor visits ringed in red on my calendar so as to denote it as a hell day. On that red ringed day, I will be home to hold Sasha and he will be home so that in between the rants he can be held. There is nothing that can deal with this problem but time. What a silly thing time. It makes all of us old but it is a salve for the damaged. Given Sasha's dire medical condition we will be addressing that 10th level of hell Dante neglected to document.

Today, Mom took my little one to the general doctor's office (while I worked) to pick up a prescription and he started to freak out in the truck as she drove into the parking structure until she told him it was medicine for me. Then it was okay.
He sleeps tonight. Thank god.