Coincidence? I think not.

I know I have shared in previous blogs a few of the circumstances that led us to adopting three siblings from Ukraine. So many things had to fall perfectly in to place for us to find out about these three loves. Well, the last few weeks, I have learned of a few more details. They just blow my mind. 

Mike and I were getting frustrated with the length of time it was taking to get approved and were worrying about the safety of our kids. It is so hard to get info on the current status of fighting in Ukraine. I reached out to Sarah, who had hosted the kids this summer to see if she had any recent news. Sarah set up a private message between a woman who was currently in Ukraine, adopting a child from the VERY same orphanage our kids are in, and myself. She not only calmed our fears about the circumstances, she was able to tell me that she knows our kids and has talked to them and they are doing well. She even told me that K couldn't wait to tell her that they were being adopted. She said she has never seen K smile so much. Reading these words made my heart skip a beat. K's smile is huge--it can light up a room. 

Fast forward to yesterday. I got another message from this woman. She told me more about the kids. She said she met them last summer when they were visiting their son at a camp in Ukraine. She told me they promised K to do whatever they could to help them find their family. She made a video of our three kids following that visit, in the hopes of sharing their story. That video is the video that spoke to our hearts. That video is the one that kept me from thinking of little else for two days until I could show it to Mike. That is the video that stirred Mike to say, "What would it take?" 

An act of kindness, for three children they knew were not to be theirs. Creating a video that would find these kids their family, that would make our family realize we weren't yet whole. 

Before it was even on our radar, the steps were being made that would lead to us meeting. If this family's adoption hadn't been put on hold during the fighting in Ukraine the previous year, they wouldn't have been visiting the camp last June. They would never have met our kids. That video wouldn't be. This, to me, is mind-blowing. This, to me, is God's plan in our lives and theirs. A year ago, I would never have imagined in my wildest dreams we would be here today. As mind-blowing as it is, it also brings with it such peace. When we began this process, I told God we would give Him yes until we got His no. I also reminded God that I can be really dense, so please make your answer very clear (and please don't make the no be that my tumor returned--it is a good thing He is so patient with me). Every step of the way, we have been shown that this plan has been in the making long before we were brought into it. Don't get me wrong, there have been plenty of times that I have let my worries grow so big in my head that I can't hear anything else. Yet, every time I think I am going to lose it, my heart is quieted by yet another reminder. 

Yesterday, we put together a few things to send with her when she returns to Ukraine in October to finalize her adoption of her son. Such a big deal to us to be able to connect with our kids and let them know that we are thinking of them. To be able to send them a bit of hope. We knew it needed to be small so it wouldn't take up too much room in her bags. I really struggled with thinking about what to send. What if it isn't their style, what if they don't need/want it, what if it isn't enough? That is when it hit me, whatever we send won't be enough. It will be a trinket. Even if it were diamonds, it would still not be enough. There is no way for me to box up my love: actual hugs from their mother's arms, kisses to wipe their tears. There is no way to express what is here, waiting for them. Instead, I stamped a necklace for each with the words, "You are loved." We sent a letter expressing our love for them. Still, it does not begin to convey. It is not enough.

The process is so long--but that is another post for another day. Progress is being made. Our home-study has been approved and sent to the state. We are realistically looking at February now to bring them home for good. In the meantime, we are going to try to host them over Christmas. It may not be exactly how we envisioned, but we haven't given up hope on having our family together for the holidays!

Dochka

This week, I was presented with the rare opportunity to tell the Ukranian kids our adoption plans. Due to another transition, it was agreed that these kids need some hope and it would be okay to disclose our plans. This is huge you guys, that never happens! Anyway, I wasn't sure if I should call--would it upset them, were they in a good place to hear it, they don't really know me, would I mess it up, etc. So, I prayed about it. For me, praying while listening to praise music is the best way, especially when my mind is scattered. I turned on a Pandora station and felt as if the next three songs were speaking directly to me. It was crazy! The first song had these lines "... speak and say the words no one else will ever say .... I am gonna show you love in every language .... I'm gonna give you what you've never had before." Second song, "She got the call today, out of the gray .... I'm gonna get there soon, she's gonna be there, too. Crying in her room praying Lord come through, we're gonna get there soon." By the time the third song started out with, "Tonight's the night, two worlds collide ...." I figured making the call to the kids would be a good plan.

It was amazing--right up there with holding each of our girls for the first time. I asked K (the oldest and only one fluent in English) if she remembered us from our visit. She said, "I remember." I asked if she remembered when I told her that in our family we say that you have to say goodbye in order to say hello again. She said, "I remember." I said, "well, we plan to say hello again as soon as December when we come to Ukraine to adopt you into our family." She whispered, "all three of us?" I said, "yes!" We both were holding back the tears. I told her that I had been practicing so that I could tell her I love you in Russian like she taught me (and then said it). She said, "you got it right!" Before we got off the phone, she taught me the Russian word for daughter. After I tried out "dochka" she said, "so good, I am so happy!" It was so, so awesome.

Continue praying, those prayers are being answered, Mike and I are so encouraged! They return to Ukraine tomorrow and will need God'. s intervention and protection. We know that bad things are happening over there. We pray that the time left before we can adopt is minimal. It is so weird, this time when your heart knows these precious kids are yours, yet the world has not acknowledged it yet. So odd to enjoy time as a family of five now while at the same time feeling a part of our family is missing. 

As an update on the process, we just finished our part of the home study. After approval by our agency, it usually takes three months to be approved by the state, then federal, then Ukraine. After that, we get a travel date (usually about two weeks from the date notified). So, we are still anticipating early December.

Northern Lutes Expansion?!

Saturday, we followed our hearts to Memphis, Tennessee. Yet, this wild journey didn't start there, it actually started about two months ago, with a simple click. My friend, Katie Artz, posted a link to help raise funds for orphans. Of course, I opened her link and began reading about her neighbors, the Musicks, who were raising funds to host a sibling set from Ukraine for the summer. Their story was so moving that I immediately donated an amount I knew Mike would also support and prayed for these precious kids to find their forever family. Throughout the day, I continued to click on the link to watch the progress, hoping and praying these kids could experience a break from their current situation--to get to be kids, with fewer worries, even if only for a brief time! The following day, while Mike and I were enjoying a few quiet moments after the Luteslets had left for summer school, I showed him the link. After watching their video, he closed the iPad and said that first of all, we should donate. After I told him we already had, he said, "What would it take?"  That was the moment things began to change forever in the Lutes home. He was not asking what it would take to get them here, he was asking, what it would take to make them ours.

We spent the next few days inquiring, praying and checking in with each other to make sure this was still something we should/could/would do. We talked with the girls, prayed some more, researched some more.  We decided we would give God a yes until we heard a strong no. As we started the paperwork, I continued to check in with Mike. As many of you know, I have always considered adoption--even before our struggles with infertility. However, my imaginings always appeared to me as a single child--about two feet tall. It turns out God is a little more creative. He imagines stretching us even more with not one but three children. Each of them taller than two feet. In an instant (or several months) we could add a teenage girl and two boys (what will I even do with boys)? But, I am getting ahead of myself. Right before I sent in the first big check and volumes of paperwork, I checked in again. Mike said, "N, I feel like all of the big decisions in my life have not been decisions, I have just known. I feel at peace with this." Wow! Ok, here we go.

If, at this point, you are wondering how we will do this now, on the twilight of my Cushing's journey, you are not alone. Mike and I often question the same thing. We have agreed that while I am improved, I am not there yet. I still get fatigued and Mike still takes more on than he should need to. That is one of our prayers that you can join us in praying. If this is God's plan for us, He will need to provide continued healing and strength. If this is the best health I achieve, we will not be able to provide what these precious kids need. Of course, I have asked God that if it is a no for us, to please give us that no by way of another family adopting them, not through PITA (my pituitary tumor) returning. That being said, I continue to receive excellent check-ups. My endocrinologist is "very encouraged." My worst days now are better than my best several months ago.

If you are wondering how we will manage going from 3 to 6 kids, you are not alone in that either. One evening, while Mike was working a night shift, the twins came running in just as I finally drifted off. They were yelling about some extremely important fight they were having that resulted in a physical altercation. I reacted as any well-adjusted, loving mother would have--I absolutely lost it with them. I returned to my room in a heated conversation with God. I proceeded to point out all of the reasons I would not be a good fit for this job. After my rant, I heard nothing in response. I began to calm down and went back in to check on my precious, vulnerable girls to reassure them of my love so they could sleep. Apparently, I was the only one experiencing any angst, as they were sleeping soundly. The song on the radio ended and a verse was read, talking of God's plans for us being bigger than we can imagine. Apparently, God wasn't silent, but waiting for me to be in a place where I could listen.

Moving forward to today, the Musicks were able to raise the money in record breaking number of days to get these kids here for the summer. As a result, we got an incredible opportunity to meet them prior to completing the adoption process.  They are such sweet and loving kids! They  are greatly neglected at best, eating everything in sight (they are actually smaller this year than last). It was so hard to leave this morning, especially since we were not supposed to discuss adoption with the kids. So hard to not give them hope! We left even more determined to do everything in our power to make this reality. If this is a shock to you, you are not alone--it is for us, too! Please help us pray for these kids--we want them to find their forever home, to be claimed and belong--even if that family is not ours.

Lyme-aide anyone?!

I recently got diagnosed with chronic lyme disease. Oddly, for someone who is usually very open with my thoughts, feelings and goings on, I am feeling somewhat hesitant to share this. Weird, I know. I hate complaining to others, and having lyme just feels like one complaint after another. It is hard to find good things to say about it. So, instead of being Debbie Downer in conversation after conversation, as I let everyone in the loop--I figured I would just blog about it. It strikes me now that this is perhaps quite selfish of me. I can drop my lyme bomb without actually having to partake in a bunch of depressing conversations. Good thing I have VERY understanding people in my life! Thanks for taking one for the team, everyone!

I feel like I should share this for several reasons--1. Many of you know I have been struggling with my health for about a year (I have had to stop teaching spin because I can't handle cardio anymore), and would want to know. 2. Those of you who aren't aware may have been wondering why I have I have been different--less social, less energy, less friendly, less attentive, forgetful, not creating, larger (my cortisol levels are climbing and causing me to gain weight no matter what I eat), odd rashes on my body, etc. 3. I could use your understanding and positive vibes right now. 4. Maybe someone out there is struggling with their own diagnosis and could benefit from my journey.

Ok, so that is the bummer--life has given me lyme in excess--how do we turn it into a bloom? Now that we have a diagnosis finally, we can focus on getting N back! I miss her. She wasn't perfect by any means, but she was fun and energetic and loved being surrounded by others. There have been many blooms that have come from this year of crazy symptoms--I have slowed down and learned to focus on the important things. I have learned to rely on others for help--and, *gasp* even ask for it. I have had to come to terms with the fact that I can not be superN, and the more I try, the worse I make it. I am learning to settle for just N--and learning that she can still be super in small spurts intermixed with plenty of naps ;). I have learned to be content without crazy. I have enjoyed deeper relationships, as I have had to lean on others and be more vulnerable.

The road to recovery could be long, and I may even feel worse before I feel better. But, that is ok, I can handle that. The good news is that this disease isn't going to kill me--and in the end, maybe I feel even stronger and be healthier. Lyme-aide anyone?!

The best funeral ever....

I just got home from Kansas City, where I attended my Grandpa Davidson's funeral. I titled this the best funeral ever with absolute sincerity. What a celebration of an amazing life. So thankful for his presence in mine. There was an opportunity for his grandchildren to speak, and I have been asked if I would post what I said. So, here it is.

When I look back on who Grandpa was through the eyes of a child, I recall that he had a seemingly magical quality. His eyes had such a twinkle, and oh, that smile! You could be in a room full of people and life (any room with more than 2 Davidsons in it tends to be rather lively) and somehow Grandpa would catch your eye. Calling you over with a slight nod of his head and a quick little wink. The next thing you knew, you were sharing his chair, he was snuggling you in, whispering, "that's it!" It seemed that the more importance he placed upon the message, the more dramatically quiet his delivery. I often found I needed to snuggle in closer to catch it all. He had a way of  being completely present in the moment and ensuring you were, too! 

Grandpa was always happy to listen and even happier to guide. I can assure you that these little chats had at least one little nugget of wisdom tucked inside. However, looking back, the phrases I most recall were, "You are so precious!" "You are my special, special girl!" and "I am so, so, so proud of you." In fact, I heard these sweet whispers so often that I actually believed that I held a favored spot in Grandpa's heart. It wasn't until a few years ago when my cousin, Addie, mentioned being his special, special girl that my bubble was popped. If I am honest, I will admit to a moment of selfish disappointment. However, my awe of Grandpa soared to an even higher level as I realized that all of his granddaughters, his daughter, his daughters-in-law and probably many of you celebrating with us today were his special, special girls. It dawned on me then what an amazing gift he gave us--a gift of confidence. The gift of knowing we have immense worth!

Most of my memories of Grandpa are so intertwined with Grandma. It is difficult to talk about one without talking about the other. I was blessed with two amazing grandparents, each with very different gifts and personalities. But, Grandpa Marshall and Grandma Helen truly were an example of the sum of the equation being greater than the two parts. I didn't fully appreciate this until Grandma passed away. Whenever I would call, neither would talk until the other had picked up a phone. Every letter written had a message from one, followed by a message from the other. Often, they would each add comments to the other's message in the margines. Grandma would often melt into the background when it was just the three of us and Grandpa wanted to chat, either picking up some reading material or leaving the room. When the chat ended, I would notice Grandma sitting nearby, watching us and smiling. Sometimes, Grandpa would wonder off suddenly, muttering about a project that needed fixing--giving Grandma and I some time. When the other rejoined, they would often give the other a compliment, a kiss, or just a knowing smile. Somehow, that show of unity strengthened the value of what you just shared with the one. 

Grandpa need not worry that his nuggets of wisdom during our chats got lost in his message of love. This is because Grandpa and Grandma lived their wisdom every day. As is usually the case, I learned way more from watching them than I did from their words. I would like to share with you the legacy of the Davidsons as I see it. 

The top 6 principles for living a life of contentment:
 1. Don't waste your money on things that don't matter. If you save it, you will have it when you need it and when the right opportunities to share with others come your way. Money is best spent on:
     A. helping others and sharing God's message 
     B. experiences and memories--creating opportunities to share and spend time with others. They understood that life gets busy and we all prioritize differently. They repeatedly organized and funded family reunions to insure that they would happen and we would ALL be there. I think we would all agree just how priceless those times were. 

2. If you want close relationships, they must be fed. After my dad died, Grandma and Grandpa (his parents) kept putting themselves in my mom's life. Inviting her to be a part, accepting and even embracing her new family when she remarried. Every letter I sent them was followed by a response from them both. And, if the time between my response stretched to long, another letter from them would arrive. They were constantly touching the lives of those around them, looking for and creating opportunities to keep the bridges strong.

3. Work hard, don't expect anything to be handed to you. Grandpa was a commercial painter. Grandpa and Grandma raised their family while putting Grandpa through college and seminary school. Often in our chats, Grandpa would comment more on how proud he was for my hard work than for actually reaching my goal. The journey was more important than the prize. 

4. You can do anything--the longer you sit and cry about it, the longer it stays broken. I came for a visit once right after breaking up with a boyfriend. Grandma and I chatted about it for about an hour. She listened and encouraged. Then, the next thing I knew, Grandpa came in the room needing help shoveling snow on the farm. After about an hour of hard work, Grandpa and I were making snow angels in the yard. That's it then, time to move on!

5. All people have worth. You don't have to agree with them, or even fancy them, but they are children of God and should be honored as such. During graduate school, I got to go on a trip to Europe with my grandparents, and two of my aunts, Rose and Rhea. Towards the end of the trip, Grandma let it slip that she and Grandpa found a certain person to be difficult to deal with on occasion. I was shocked by this revelation. Every interaction between them had been full of love and acceptance throughout my life. For over 20 years I had been clueless that this person ever bothered them! Bottom line, this person was a child of God, was important to someone they loved. They didn't have to live with this person, or even agree with this person. But, this person deserved to be treated with love and respect, we all do. Wow!

6. Love God, study Him and strive to live your life as He would choose. God gave each of us a brain and many abilities. Trust them, follow Him and you will have all you need to go far and make them so, so, so proud of you!

In closing, I would like to reflect on the Davidson goodbye. I have witnessed in other families, the goodby that lingers. Not so in the Davidson house. You enjoy the visit right up to the very end. Then, you give a quick, very strong, goodbye hug. "You see," Grandma would say, "you have to say goodbye in order to say hello again!" Then, you hop in the car, roll down the window, stick your arm out and wave energetically until you are out of sight. Full of love and full of the promise of next time! 

Until next time, Grandpa!

My heart is bursting with....

I am not sure, relief? Pride? Happy? No, it is more than that. Deeper somehow. This pierces to the very depth of me. While it is not painful, per say, it is piercing--almost a searing joy. One I have rarely felt. One that appears during a long journey full of  intense emotions. Today, I met with Alli's teacher for 2nd grade student teacher conferences. Although I have received very little negative feedback from her teacher this year, I was still bracing myself for surprises. Things Alli was struggling with. Perhaps a new challening coping mechanism, struggles making friends, or an inability to reach certain milestones consistent with her peers. I thought I was ready to hear anything the teacher had to report. Turns out, I was wrong.

In case you are out of the loop, Alli has struggled since she started kindergarten. It is so hard to watch your child struggle in kindergarten. Kindergarten should be easy, confidence building and fun! At first, she had a hard time being apart from Milana, her twin, for a full day. Every other transition during their lifetime had been made together. Now, they faced a huge one alone! They had been fine in preschool, each attending four days with one going on Tuesday alone and the other on Thursdays. So, I did not anticipate how much Alli relied on Milana's presence for her confidence. However, after a few months of working with Alli, it became apparent that separation anxiety wasn't the answer for all of her difficulties. She struggled to recite the alphabet all the way through, count to a certain number and was not making expected progress with reading. She also struggled with huge levels of anxiety because she was missing cues during class and transitions. With this level of anxiety came some odd behaviors that served to lower her anxiety. Unfortunately, they did not help her socially adapt. Once we figured out that she has ADHD inattentive type, with some extra help, her academic issues were quickly resolved. In fact, it turns out that Alli is really bright! It has been such a joy to see her brain process and learn to it's potential. 

Throughout first grade, the anxiety remained. The girls were allowed to be in the same class, which helped Alli, but she still struggled. We continue to work with this, through therapy, love and encouragement. We also realized that some of her issues at school had to do with her being little. She can't reach things and this causes her to find creative ways to deal with her life. Unfortunately, her creative ways sometimes lead to different issues. We have been able to identify these problems and provide alternate solutions that are more appropriate. She really has been so fortunate to have amazingly relentless teachers, other school staff, friends and family behind her, praying and cheering her on. This year, we went in with an IEP (individual education plan), some extra support in areas of known difficulty, joining  Milana in her math class first thing in the morning (they are in separate classes the rest of the day), and a guardedly hopeful heart. Guarded because to hope freely is beyond what I have left. To hope freely would leave me too vulnerable to the deep hurt that comes when you see your child struggle again and again. I can remind myself over and over that these struggles will help Alli become the amazing woman she is intended to be, but that doesn't help me stop wishing life wasn't so hard for her. It doesn't keep my heart from breaking when I see her tears of frustration. But, guarded hope is better than no hope. And a plan is always better in Natasha's world than no plan ;). 

As I said earlier, I thought I was prepared to hear anything her teacher had to say, but I was wrong. It was ALL positive! Don't get me wrong, her handwriting could use a bit of tweaking--but, so could my husband's! When looking at her writing sample, I could read her thoughts (yes, plural--there was more than one thought :), which is much more than I could say for last year's writing. For the first time since preschool, it was clear that Alli is exactly where she should be, both academically and socially. I am relieved, yes, I am so proud of her hard work, too. But it is much deeper than that. I am bursting with joy! It is searing my soul. My little Alli is finding her groove.

She will shine!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Last weekend, the girls and I stopped at a garage sale. It was the first of the season for the girls and boy were they GIDDY! They often remind me that you never know what treasures you will find and that your dollar goes so much further at a garage sale than the store! Have I mentioned how much I love my little minions lately?! Anyway, I digress. We quickly ran over the rules: 1. no matter how cute, we are not taking home any live or stuffed animals. 2. Keep your fingers out of your mouth until we are back in the car and you have sanitized :). 3. You can only buy what you can afford. 4. When momma says it is time to go, we will stop browsing and go with a great attitude or next time we will drive on by (Egads! I know, drive by a GS without stopping, how could you?!).

Once I got three "Ok, Momma"s, we were off on the hunt for treasures under $2. Much to my dismay, Milana found a lovely ceramic girl and another ceramic angel--all for a whopping $.75. Seriously, another thing to collect dust and get broken! But, then again, who am I to judge another man's treasure--boy would I be in trouble if I were judged on my GS treasures! Not only that, but if we all had the same idea of a treasure, they wouldn't be there for me to take home cheaply at a garage sale. So, I oohed and awwwed apropriately as we paid for our purchases. When we got to the car, she asked me to hold it for her so it wouldn't break. She said, "Do you know why I bought that one, Momma?" I told her I wasn't sure, but I couldn't wait to hear. She then explained that she had bought it for me because she thought it looked like her and I could put it out where I could see it all day when she is at school. That way, I wouldn't have to miss her so much. She also said that everytime I saw it, it would remind her of her love for me. Of course, my heart instantly melted and I scooped her up in a huge hug.

While the girls were buckling up, I picked up my new "treasure" and looked at it again. I commented that she was right, it did bear a resemblance to her. It had huge eyes that had a sparkle, blonde hair and she was sitting like a frog, ready to hop (Milana is constantly in motion).