Spreading Our Wings

Last week was a big one for Sarah, and her parents.  Tuesday, I spent the first night away from my daughter.  I was a bit anxious about it, but I knew a night of rest and relaxation would do me (and therefore Don and Sarah) good.  I headed north to R*d Wing, MN, a little tourist town on the Mississippi River, about 80 miles from here. 

Before I left, I put the tank top that I usually wear to bed in Sarah's crib.  Babies have a keen sense of smell and are often comforted by their mother's clothing.  I had tried this months ago with Sarah, and she didn't pay any attention to the shirt I'd left, but I figured it was worth another try.

It was a beautiful day, and the drive along the river was stunning, with bluffs of green and copper on one side of the highway, the sparkling water on the other, and still more bluffs (in WI) beyond that.  I took my beloved '96 Volkswagen GTI.  I don't drive it very often now that I usually have Sarah along and it doesn't have much room for a carseat.  It was perfect for this sojourn, though, as it's taken me on many a road trip.

As I headed north, I felt both the exhiliration and the loneliness of past solo drives around the country.  I reflected on the experiences that car and I have been through together -- both the good and the bad.  In my 20s and 30s, I lacked direction and discretion when it came to personal relationships.  Heartache was the rule, rather than the exception.  My car often provided an escape from my troubled life.  It was my sanctuary. 

As I listened to a couple of old cassette tapes I found in the door, I was overcome with gratitude for my life.  If you had told me even 10 years ago how wonderfully things would turn out for me, I would not have believed you.  This was the first road trip where I knew I would be going back to an amazing man and a remarkable child.  While Mary Chapin Carpenter, Trisha Yearwood, and Jo Dee Messina sang about love lost and found, I counted my blessings.

When I arrived in R*d Wing, I did a little shopping, then checked into my Bed & Breakfast.  It was a tudor-style home in a neighborhood about a mile from downtown, built in 1932 by the president of R*d Wing Shoe Company.  I was shown to my room on the third floor, the former servant's quarters.  It was small and cozy, with the classic B&B featherbed and rose-adorned quilt.  I settled in, ate the plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies that awaited me, then headed back to town for dinner.

I beat the dinner crowd, since it was only 5:30, and sat on the patio at the St. J*mes Hotel, a beautiful old building overlooking the river.  I had it all to myself due to the hour and the 90+ degree heat.  It was slightly uncomfortable, but I don't pass up an opportunity for outdoor dining, not when so many of the months in this northern climate preclude it.  It was quiet and relaxing, for the most part.  (The downside of doing anything along the river is that train tracks run on both sides of it, and there's no ignoring the occasional whistle-blowing freight train coming through.)

I called home after dinner, and all was fine, just as I'd expected.  I'm fortunate to have a husband who is involved in every facet of his daughter's life and can carry on without me.  The exception is bedtime.  I handle the 45-minute routine, so he's unfamiliar with Sarah's and my nightly rituals.  I'm sure Sarah did her best to guide him by signing "lotion," "book," "pray," and "sing," but she couldn't say her prayer or tell him the words to "My Favorite Things."

I headed back to the B&B and enjoyed a soothing soak in the whirlpool (with a bag of M&Ms) before climbing into bed with a magazine and drifting off to sleep.  If it hadn't been for the thunderstorm that passed through, I would have slept right through until morning.

I called home to see how the night went and learned that Sarah hadn't gone to sleep on her own, as usual, and had, in fact, cried when put in her crib, so Don slept in her room.  I had a haunting feeling that I would be paying for my escape in the nights to come as Sarah got back into her routine.  She did, however, take to the tank top.  Don said she clutched it at naptime and again at bedtime, which warmed my heart.

Breakfast was served in the closed-in porch, and there was one other couple there.  It started with sugared, grilled grapefruit.  The main course was a mushroom, onion, tomato, and feta cheese frittata, soy sausage patties (which tasted remarkably like the real thing), and a fresh muffin.  It matched my tastes perfectly, and I stuffed myself.

I picked up an iced mocha on the way out of town, crossed the Mississippi, and headed south on the Wisconsin side of the river.  It's much less developed than the Minnesota side, with tiny towns just starting to tap into the tourist trade.  One such hamlet is St*ckholm, population 197.  I'd taken a day trip there a few years ago and was pleasantly surprised by its handful of shops, so I had to stop again.  Unfortunately, some of the stores are closed during the week, but my favorite, O*t of the Blue, was open.  I found a beautiful scarf that I couldn't resist.  (Some day, I'll figure out the proper way to wear a scarf;  I never seem to get it right.)

I tried to take my time returning home, hoping to make a grand entrance after Sarah's nap, but I couldn't dally enough.  She seemed happy to see me when she woke but didn't make a big production of it.  She loved the frog travel pillow I brought her and insisted on wearing it around the house backwards, like an overstuffed necklace.

I faced Sarah's bedtime fearing that she would protest and I'd spend nights on end sitting outside her door while she fell asleep, but she went in the crib happily.  Soon after I left, she called for me, and I returned apprehensively only to find her reaching for my tank top, which had been left on the twin bed.  I gave it to her, and she snuggled up to it and rolled over.  She was soon asleep.  She cried out in the night a few times but went back to sleep when I called from our room.  There was no "penalty" for my night away.

As if a night without her mother wasn't enough for one week, Thursday night, Don and I had our first date night since Sarah's arrival.  We'd been working up to it, with Kyla, the sweet girl-next-door (literally and figuratively) coming over a couple of times to play with Sarah while we were here.  The last time, Sarah was so engrossed with showing Kyla all that she could do (puzzles, blocks, etc.), that I was able to go downstairs to the office for about half an hour without her even noticing, which was encouraging.

I told Sarah early in the day that Kyla was coming to play with her and that Mommy and Daddy were going to go in the car for a little while.  She seemed nervous and was a bit clingy the rest of the day, so I wasn't optimistic about how things would go.  Once Kyla was here, though, Sarah went right to playing with her.   I had told Sarah that Kyla was going to give her M&Ms for dessert, and she kept signing "candy."  As I said goodbye, she reached to be picked up, but when I told her to keep playing with Kyla and we would be back soon, she didn't protest.  Don and I slipped out with no drama at all.

I had told Kyla to call me if Sarah was upset and didn't settle down within five minutes.  So, I clutched the cell phone nervously for the first 10 minutes.  When it didn't ring, I started to relax.  We went to the farmer's market in town, then to a little restaurant about 10 minutes from home.  We sat in the bar, thinking it would be easier to leave if necessary. 

I was just starting to believe that everything was going fine when I realized I had no cell phone reception.  It had never occurred to me to check this out ahead of time!  I went outside and checked my voicemail, and there were no messages, so we should have been able to carry on as planned.  As we sat waiting to have our order taken, though, I got more and more nervous.  After half an hour with no service (cell phone or otherwise), we decided to just go home.

We returned about an hour after we'd left to a quiet house.  I found Sarah and Kyla in her room playing, both happy as clams.  When I asked how it went, Kyla said Sarah never cried at all and had eaten all of her dinner and had seconds.  I couldn't ask for more than that.

As Don and I ate our frozen pizza (a step down from the dinners we had chosen on the menu), I started talking about our next date night.  He rolled his eyes, but I promised him that the next time would be A LOT more fun.  I was so relieved that Sarah had taken everything in stride and even appeared to enjoy herself.  As long as I check out the phone reception at our destination ahead of time, I should be able to let go and relax.  

I'm so happy that Sarah has reached the point where she feels secure being home without her parents.  That's huge.  After her anxiety in the church nursery, I was afraid we were still a long way from this goal.  I'm excited to think that Don and I can go out alone again.  We adore our daughter, but it's nice to know that she's achieved enough independence to let go of us for a little while.  She's growing up so fast!

A Year of Looking at That Face!

One year ago today, we received our referral for Sarah.  After more than three years, we finally got our first look at that perfect face (the photo was taken when she was six months old):

And this is the beautiful girl I woke up to this morning:

How did we ever get so lucky????

Another Visit from Emily, Omar, and Sophia

Don's daughter Emily, her husband Omar, and their daughter Sophia visited us again this weekend.  It was great to have them back only a few weeks after Sarah's baptism!  Sarah was quite comfortable with them from the start, although she still liked having Don or me in the room on Saturday.  By Sunday, she was letting Emily read to her and walking around the yard holding hands with her new buddy Omar.  She warms up to people pretty quickly these days.

Such a Sweetheart

Don went fishing up north with a friend for a few days this week, and Sarah missed him.  She would sign "Daddy," asking where he was.  I'd say he'd gone fishing, and she'd sign "fish" then say "bo" (boat).  At bedtime, she'd mime kissing him while we were reading, when he usually comes in to say "goodnight."  Last night, she had a minor meltdown during bath time, which is unusual.  I think it was because she missed him so.

Don got home this afternoon, and Sarah was all smiles.  She reached her arms up to be picked up and gave him a big kiss.  Then, she motioned for me to join in a group hug.  She took turns kissing him, then me, grinning broadly the whole time.  She repeated the whole scene two or three more times.  She was obviously thrilled that the three of us were back together, where we belong.

They're not kestrels, but...

...they're still pretty cool.  Soon after our broken hearts mended from being jilted by the kestrels, a pair of killdeer nested in the landscaped island on our front lawn.  From our picture window, we've watched them take turns incubating the four speckled eggs for a little over a month. 

The eggs started to hatch Saturday, just as it began to rain.  One little puffball scampered around the mulch pecking at who-knows-what, before squeezing himself back under the parent on the nest for warmth.  By Sunday morning, all four eggs had hatched.  These are some of the cutest babies you've ever seen.  But don't take my word for it, check out this video Don shot from the garage: 

Final Trip to the IAC

On Friday, we took the long drive to Minneapolis for Sarah's final visit to the University of Minnesota International Adoption Clinic. This isn't one of Sarah's favorite trips, with good reason. She was cheery, though, and so much more relaxed than the previous times.

There were no tears or whimpers during the height and weight measuring, which was a refreshing change. They let her keep her clothes on this time, so she was able to maintain her dignity, which helped a lot. She is now 34 3/4" tall and weighs 29.3 lbs. At 22 months old, that keeps her right on the 90th percentile curve, where she's been for all three visits.

While we waited in the exam room, Sarah drew on the chalkboard. When the doctor, her assistant, and the occupational therapist all walked in, I thought it was a little overwhelming, but Sarah didn't flinch. She proudly showed them her artwork.

The occupational therapist started by bouncing a playground ball to Sarah. Sarah bounced it right back, which the OT pronounced "quite advanced." I was relieved, since it occurred to me the other day that we haven't been playing ball with Sarah much lately. I guess she remembers the games she played with Don in the basement this winter. She didn't seem to get the idea of kicking the ball, so we'll have to work on that.

We then went out in the hallway, and the OT rolled a tennis ball for Sarah to run after. Sarah doesn't really run; she walks fast (like her mom). This is a bit delayed for her age. I asked the OT if she had any concerns about how Sarah walks. She had me take off Sarah's shoes and pants so she could get a better look. She said Sarah pronates a little, and her knees hyperextend some. She suggested getting her some athletic shoes with tapered soles and encouraging her to ride her bike and climb. Guess it's no great loss that she won't wear flip flops.

The next "test" was stacking 1" blocks. Sarah went right to it, building a seven-block tower (the goal was six), then looked for more. She got "extra credit" for doing it on a sloping chair seat.

When it came to the shape puzzle, Sarah seemed disappointed with just a circle, square, and triangle. She's used to doing her puzzle, which has a rectangle, trapezoid, hexagon, octagon, and oval. She looked at the OT as if to say, "Is that all you've got?"

On top of being smart as a whip, Sarah was very outgoing and charming. She was a totally different girl from six months ago. She had the three women in the palm of her hand.

Unfortunately, she couldn't charm her way out of the physical exam. She tolerated being picked up by the assistant and placed on the table, which she never would have done before, and was intrigued by the stethoscope. After a few minutes, though, she became concerned and cried, "Mama!"

If we could have stopped there, it would have been a pretty enjoyable visit for all of us, but we still had to do the blood draw and TB test. The doctor wanted to re-run tests that were done in September, just to be sure Sarah is negative for things like HIV and Hepatitis B and to check her iron levels.

Following a tip from a fellow mom (I love saying that!), I asked the doctor to put numbing cream on Sarah's arms 20-30 minutes before the blood draw to minimize the trauma. She was fascinated by the big dollops of cream, which the nurses covered with clear bandages (I need to post about her lotion fetish one of these days).

It was hard to tell if the cream made any difference. She still screamed and cried during the blood draw, which broke my heart. I got Don to hold her this time, since I felt like a traitor doing it before. I tried to comfort her, but it was impossible. Fortunately, the technician didn't have much trouble finding the vein, so it wasn't as agonizing as last time.

Just as she recovered from the blood draw (she's so cute -- whenever she cries, she signs "tissue" by pretending to wipe her nose;  it's so ladylike!), it was on to the TB test. That was almost as bad, since two nurses held her down on the table and pricked her arm. Sarah had to be wondering why her fun visit with the OT had taken such a terrible turn.

We were done with the appointment in a little more than an hour, which was a record. On our long walk through the hospital back to the parking garage, we searched for vending machines to make good on the candy I impulsively promised uring the blood draw.  Once we found some M&Ms, Sarah held one in each hand like tiny talismans, instead of eating them.  I always knew M&Ms had magical powers.

After the appointment, we visited Grandma and Grandpa, then headed south.  Sarah still doesn't like long rides, and she lost patience with about 45 minutes to go.  When our house finally came into view, she let out a squeal of delight.  Sarah loves her home as much as her parents do.

Praying for a Parade

When I told Sarah we were going to a parade on Monday, she folded her hands under her chin and looked up at me, ready to "pray."  I guess I need to work on my enunciation.

It was a short procession, even by small-town standards.  There was the VFW, the high school and middle school marching bands, the Girl Scouts, and the Boy Scouts -- that's it.  It lasted about five minutes.  By the time she figured out what it was all about, it was over. 

We'll pray for a longer one on the 4th of July....

Va-va-voom!

Sarah received two stuffed dogs as gifts last fall -- one from my mom and one from my uncle and his girlfriend.  She liked them both from the start, but recently, she's become quite attached to them.  Because I've always played with them saying, "Ruff, ruff, ruff, ruff, ruff" very fast, she has come to call them (and all dogs) "va-vas," so we have Big Va-va and Little Va-va.  Big Va-va is definitely more huggable, but Little Va-va is more portable, so she gets to go more places with us.

A Special Season

Last June, as I waited anxiously for our referral, I kept myself busy by picking strawberries in our backyard patch -- 65 quarts in all.  For me, they will always represent the sweetness of becoming a mom.

I froze most of the berries, and Don, Sarah, and I have enjoyed them all winter.  There's nothing like feeding your daughter fruit you've grown organically on your own land! 

On Monday, we picked the first berry of the season. Guess who got to enjoy it!  The picking is going much more slowly this year, as I have to keep stopping to give Sarah another choice berry to munch on (only the biggest and reddest for my girl).  I may have to turn her loose in the patch pretty soon and let her forage for herself.