Tag Archives: birth family

An update at 14 months

You’re speaking in code. 1280px-Enigma_rotors_and_spindle_showing_contacts_rachet_and_notch

It’s up to us to decipher what you’re trying to say.

Some things you say are pretty simple.



Other utterings are a little more complex.



They are different words, but mean the same thing. When we’re trying to put a shoe on you or give you something and you would rather do it – “Idoitdoidoit.”

Deciphering often has a lot to do with context.

“Idon.” I have no idea what it means. I thought I did when I wrote it down but as I try to explain it here, the meaning eludes me. It’s not what you say when you’re done eating. When you’re done, you just drop surplus food or a bottle onto the floor without a sound.


“Aye.” Accompanied by the point of your little finger, it means you want something, we just have to figure out what it is.

Mommy tries to get you to “use your words,” while daddy is trying to just use words himself.

“Aye.” Point.

“What do you want?”

“Aye.” Point.

”The apple?”

“Aye.” Point.

“Do you want the apple?”

“Aye.” Point.

Your tone never changes. Seemingly, you could go on for hours saying the same word and pointing.

“Aye.” Point.

“The kiwi?” It’s on the counter next to the apple.

“Aye.” Point.

“Kiwi or apple?” I ask, holding them both to you.

“Aye.” You point at the kiwi.

And then you eat it all.

You eat a lot.

You move a lot and you eat a lot. You’re walking nearly everywhere. You only crawl to get up or down a step, but you’re really great at turning around and lowering yourself down. Down the back stairs or over the side of the bed, you turn around and down you go.

Saturday we went to celebrate Easter with Mommy’s side of the family.

Easter egg hunt.

Easter egg hunt.

At dinner with the family – there were 25 of us – you consumed an entire pear. For dessert. After already eating a lot of dinner. Daddy cut a piece of the pear and you ate it. And you kept eating until it was gone.

You can drink as much as 12 ounces from the liquid solids bottle during a meal. You’re not eating with a fork or spoon yet, but you can eat a lot with your hands. If we try to make you eat with a spoon, you squeal and say, “idoitdoidoit.” But you don’t. You smile happily while you play with the spoon and eat with your other hand.

There can be a lot of squealing and sometimes you just scream. At 14 months-old, it’s like you’ve entered the terrible twos. I can’t imagine what you’ll be like in 10 months.


How I met your mommy

Your mommy and I met on a Christian dating website. She was the only woman I met from that site, and I was the only man she met.

We met face to face one Sunday after church.

And we’ve been together ever since.

We lived nearly two hours apart, but we saw each other every weekend after that Sunday or we saw each other during the week. Not a weekend went by that we didn’t see each other, and that went on through the weekend we got married.

And since we got married two and a half years ago, we’ve never been apart for one night. We do nearly everything together, because we’d rather be together than spend an extra moment away from each other.

That changes tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Mommy will fly to you, to spend more time with you. She’ll sleep in the same room with you, and take care of you for the rest of the week.

I’ll miss your mommy terribly, just like I miss you. Two ladies have captured my heart, and they will be together tomorrow night.

“No news, bad news, good news, I need to hear something.”

We’ve been in and out of contact with the birth family, and for the past few days it’s more out of contact than in contact.

“No news, bad news, good news, I need to hear something,” your mommy said today.

The whole situation is complicated . . . state social services complicated and emotionally complex complicated for the birth family.

It’s been a week since we’ve heard from the birth family. And any time there’s silence and no news . . . well, your imagination can start filling in the emptiness with the most complicated, scary, and probably wrong thoughts and ideas.

And as we wait for you, it’s complicated for us because we have so much emotionally invested in wanting you to come be with us, our whole lives are being reshaped as we prepare for you to be with us. (and as we pack to move to the new house.)

“Why are you writing what I say?” mommy asked as she poured over past text messages, searching for new information.

And in the absence of news . . . the tears come.

“Tell her we can’t wait for her to be with us. We love her. We need her here so we can take care of her.”


After reaching out to your birth family, we got an update today . . . and it turns out there’s no news . . . no progress with the state.

At all.

But we got several new photos of you. You’re growing. And you look great.

What a perfect little baby you are. We can’t wait to see for ourselves.

* Sniff *

A great deal of discussion this morning concerning me posting your picture here.

Your mommy is concerned your birth family may recognize you. I say the internet is so big, your birth family probably will never know about this.

And then your mommy got worried that we’re posting photos of you, and things may fall through, and we may not get you.

Your mommy got so upset she was crying.

“What,” she asked, as she looked at me. “I’m not crying about that,” she denied through her tears. “I’m not crying about the blog,” she said, “I’m worried we’re not going to get her.”

* Sniff *

There’s a lot of excitement while we wait for you . . . but also a lot of tears because it’s so difficult to wait.

not good news

The news from the government concerning your custody isn’t good . . . it looks like it could be as much as a month before we see you again.

(Your birth family is so supportive of us, that they send us pictures of you. They let us see you, but they remind us that you’re hundreds of miles away – and we want you here with us, now.)

Your birth family sent us this, today.

Your birth family sent us this, today.

We’re moving to a new house in a month . . . a house we bought with you in mind. Perhaps it’s the Lord’s will that we be in the new house before you’re able to join us.