onsdag 27 juli 2011

Immense Loss; Walk a Mile in Baby's Booties

Imagine for a moment?

You have met the person you've dreamed about all your life. He has every quality that you desire in a spouse. You plan for the wedding, enjoying every free moment with your fiance. You love his touch, his smell, the way he looks into your eyes. For the first time in your life, you understand what is meant by "soul mate," for this person understands you in a way that no one else does. Your heart beats in rhythm with his. Your emotions are intimately tied to his every joy, his every sorrow.

The wedding comes. It is a happy celebration, but the best part is that you are finally the wife of this wonderful man. You fall asleep that night, exhausted from the day's events, but relaxed and joyful in the knowledge that you are next to the person who loves you more than anyone in the world?the person who will be with you for the rest of your life.

The next morning you wake up, nestled in your partner's arms. You open your eyes and immediately look for his face.

But IT'S NOT HIM! You are in the arms of another man. You recoil in horror. Who is this man? Where is your beloved?

You ask questions of the new man, but it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn't understand you. You search every room in the house, calling and calling for your husband. The new guy follows you around, trying to hug you, pat you on the back,...even trying to stroke your arm, acting like everything is okay.

But you know that nothing is okay. Your beloved is gone. Where is he? Will he return? When? What has happened to him?

Weeks pass. You cry and cry over the loss of your beloved. Sometimes you ache silently, in shock over what has happened. The new guy tries to comfort you. You appreciate his attempts, but he doesn't speak your language-either verbally or emotionally. He doesn't seem to realize the terrible thing that has happened...that your sweetheart is gone.

You find it difficult to sleep. The new guy tries to comfort you at bedtime with soft words and gentle touches, but you avoid him, preferring to sleep alone, away from him and any intimate words or contact.

Months later, you still ache for your beloved, but gradually you are learning to trust this new guy. He's finally learned that you like your coffee black, not doctored up with cream and sugar. Although you still don't understand his bedtime songs, you like the lilt of his voice and take some comfort in it.

More time passes. One morning, you wake up to find a full suitcase sitting next to the front door. You try to ask him about it, but he just takes you by the hand and leads you to the car. You drive and drive and drive. Nothing is familiar. Where are you? Where is he taking you?

You pull up to a large building. He leads you to an elevator and up to a room filled with people. Many are crying. Some are ecstatic with joy. You are confused. And worried.

The man leads you over to the corner. Another man opens his arms and sweeps you up in an embrace. He rubs your back and kisses your cheeks, obviously thrilled to see you.

You are anything but thrilled to see him. Who in the world is he? Where is your beloved? You reach for the man who brought you, but he just smiles (although he seems to be tearing up, which concerns you), pats you on the back, and puts your hand in the hands of the new guy. The new guy picks up your suitcase and leads you to the door. The familiar face starts openly crying, waving and waving as the elevator doors close on you and the new guy.

The new guy drives you to an airport and you follow him, not knowing what else to do. Sometimes you cry, but then the new guy tries to make you smile, so you grin back, wanting to "get along." You board a plane. The flight is long. You sleep a lot, wanting to mentally escape from the situation.

Hours later, the plane touches down. The new guy is very excited and leads you into the airport where dozens of people are there to greet you. Light bulbs flash as your photo is taken again and again. The new guy takes you to another guy who hugs you. Who is this one? You smile at him. Then you are taken to another man who pats your back and kisses your cheek. Then yet another fellow gives you a big hug and messes your hair.

Finally, someone (which guy is this?) pulls you into his arms with the biggest hug you've ever had. He kisses you all over your cheeks and croons to you in some language you've never heard before.

He leads you to a car and drives you to another location. Everything here looks different. The climate is not what you're used to. The smells are strange. Nothing tastes familiar, except for the black coffee. You wonder if someone told him that you like your coffee black.

You find it nearly impossible to sleep. Sometimes you lie in bed for hours, staring into the blackness, furious with your husband for leaving you, yet aching from the loss. The new guy checks on you. He seems concerned and tries to comfort you with soft words and a mug of warm milk. You turn away, pretending to go to sleep.

People come to the house. You can feel the anxiety start to bubble over as you look into the faces of all the new people. You tightly grasp the new guy's hand. He pulls you closer. People smile and nudge one other, marveling at how quickly you've fallen in love. Strangers reach for you, wanting to be a part of the happiness.

Each time a man hugs you, you wonder if he will be the one to take you away. Just in case, you keep your suitcase packed and ready. Although the man at this house is nice and you're hanging on for dear life, you've learned from experience that men come and go, so you just wait in expectation for the next one to come along.

Each morning, the new guy hands you a cup of coffee and looks at you expectantly. A couple of times the pain and anger for your husband is so great that you lash out, sending hot coffee across the room, causing the new guy to yelp in pain. He just looks at you, bewildered. But most of the time you calmly take the cup. You give him a smile. And wait. And wait. And wait.

--Written by Cynthia Hockman-Chupp, analogy courtesy of Dr. Kali Miller

fredag 22 juli 2011

Vart är vårt LOA???

Denna väntan är en sån plågsam pina! Att veta att lillebror väntar i Kina, men inte få åka och hämta honom! Just nu är jag helt beroende av att läsa statistiken på RQ och blir förstås glad när familjer får LOA, men samtidigt så känns det orättvist när vi väntat en månad längre! Det finns ingen förklaring, ingen logik, inte först in med papper får LOA först! Jag tror det är därför det känns så förtvivlat. Jag är svensk och van med köer, jag fattar för det mesta hur regler fungerar (förutom Försäkringskassans). Jag klarar av att portföljhantera stora viktiga IT projekt, men jag står helt mållös över hur pappershanteringen i Kina funkar?! Tack och lov verkar jag inte vara ensam om att inte fatta! Varje gång telefonen ringer så tar hjärtat ett skutt nu...är det Barnens Vänner....men nej! Nu är det fredagkväll och det blir alltså inget LOA denna vecka heller. Det innebär att vi inte kan planera någon längre sommartrip eftersom att pappren om/när de kommer ska tillbaka med vändande post till Kina efter påskrift. Oj vilket pityparty detta inlägg blev, men det är iallafall mer positivt än det känns just nu!

Någonting som var positivt igår var en helt hysterisk mailkonversation med en amerikansk mamma som har fått möjligheten att bo på lillebrors barnhem i en vecka. Jag mailade henne och skrev att jag hoppas de hade varit en bra upplevelse för henne och hennes dotter! Svaret jag fick var...
"Thank you!  Your daughter is beautiful.  She is very aware of everything around her.
Can't send picture yet and only have a couple but she is cute and loves to be held.
I will write more in a couple of days."

SAY WHAT??? Dotter??? Faaan har hon fotat fel barn, jag dör! Under denna evighetsväntan så har hoppet om att denna kvinna skulle kunna skicka över lite kort och nya uppgifter varit det som har fått mig att behålla förståndet något så när!! Jag svarade att hon tyvärr måste förväxlat mig med någon annan väntande familj och fick då detta svar...

" So sorry!  It is your son I'm talking about.  He has such beautiful eyes that I thought he was a girl.  I didn't check your email and they kept my paperwork I had printed out... "

Ha ha ha mitt i allt vänt-elände så fick jag ett hysteriskt skrattanfall som gjorde att allt kändes bättre!

lördag 16 juli 2011

Lite blandat från sista veckorna

Vi var i Strängnäs och gick och myste i hamnen och åt en god lunch. Teo tog ett par kort som förutom det obligatoriska fingret på linsen först (vilket orsakade ett romantiskt dis), blev riktigt bra och inte bara himmel eller ben.
Teo har fått en ny säng, han har lekt med rutschkanan och kojan vi byggt under! En riktig succé!
Vi har även varit hos farfar och hälsat på. Sista grillmiddagen var det även hattparad!
Sen har vi varit på Eskilstunaparken ett par gånger eftersom vi köpt säsongskort! Sista besöket var nog det bästa om man får tro Teos engagemang, dock var det inte djur eller karuseller som var dragplåster :-)

torsdag 7 juli 2011

Gillar denna beskrivning!

WELCOME TO HOLLAND


by
Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

måndag 4 juli 2011

Kalasbilder!

Vi har haft 2 kalas i veckan som var!


Glassnjutning! 






Teo får sin trampbil!

Lillebrors barnhem

Jag hittade detta TV inslag på webben, det är från "lillebrors barnhem. Det ser verkligen jättefint ut! Skönt att även få kontakt med flera familjer som adopterat därifrån som bekräftar att det är bra!