Dear Life,
As Thanksgiving draws near, I have been thinking about my family.
I have been thinking about my children.
I have been thinking about how very grateful I am that we live in a free country, with the knowledge we have and the medical advances our medical teams have.
I have been thinking how very grateful I am that we are allowed to make choices.
The choice to keep a child that was born with extras.
The choice to teach that child that he or she can do whatever they want to do in life.
The choice to teach them to dream.
I am thankful for all of those people who helped our little man last year.
Those that supported him, visited him, read to him, walked with him, and loved him.
By the end of the year last year, we felt so much support and love, and we knew that although he was not out of the woods with his hips and leg, he would be ok.
We knew that somehow, we had to give back.
We had to find a way to help another child.
A child that needs a family.
A child that had no hope.
A child that had no dreams.
I am thankful for Sofi.
When we looked at her picture, looked in her eyes and into her soul,
We knew that we could take care of this child.
We knew that we could be her family.
We knew that we could give her hope.
We knew that we could show her how to dream.
I am thankful for our caseworker.
When we told her we wanted to adopt, she told us we could do it.
When we told her we didn't know how we would fund it, she told us we could fundraise.
So we did.
We told Sofi's story.
Over and over and over again.
We have written, shared, cried, laughed and been amazed.
We have collected shoes, clothing, had pizza nights, picture days, cupcake days, Ruby's days, jewelry fundraisers, you name it and we've done it. (Except garage sales. I hate garage sales)
We have raised over $25,000.
I am thankful for you.
You have listened to us write about Sofi.
You have cried with us.
You have shared our words.
You have participated in our fundraisers.
You have loved this girl as we do.
You have given.
And given again.
Because of you, I got to visit her in October.
Because of you, she will be home in January.
Because of you, there will be one less orphan.
Because of you, she will have a family.
Because of you she will have hope.
Because of you she can dream.
There will never be enough words to thank those that have been a part of this story.
Sofi's story.
She is almost here.
We are so close.
We are $750 away from being fully funded with our agency.
Then we only need a few thousand more to fly over and bring her home.
Our flights are paid for, we just need to pay for hers, for her medical clearances, the driver to pick her up (she is six hours from the capitol) and then she will be here.
Consider helping us finish this.
Consider giving one more time.
Consider Sofi coming home in Januaray.
Consider her safe.
Consider her loved.
Consider you....a part of her.
Thank you.
Dear Life,
When I met Sofi in that orphanage, and heard a small part of her story, I realized that this little girl was being saved for a reason. Her story is just beginning, and yet, her story started at birth.
Sofi was born to a young girl, 14 years of age. She was born prematurely, and didn't breathe well right away. She started having seizures that lasted for five days. Finally, the doctors did surgery, and put a shunt in to relieve her hydrocephalus. Sofi was five days old, and she had already fought hard to live. And sadly, she went through all of that alone. In a crib in the hospital, scared, barely alive, and alone. There was no one there to make sure she was being cared for, no one to hold her little hand, no one to advocate for her, no one to hear her cries. When she was finally stable, two weeks later, she was sent to a large orphanage. It was there that she was left in a crib. For two years. She was only fed through a bottle. Her body started to become stiff and rigid from not being taken out of the crib. Not surprisingly, she never spoke, she never smiled, she barely existed. That was her life for two years. In December 2011, she was moved to the home she is at now. There are only 7 children there, and they worked hard to change things for her. Under their care, after many months, she started to make a few sounds, and they taught her to eat mashed up food with a spoon. She started to smile.
Early in 2012, Nina, our caseworker with Children's House International, first saw Sofi's file. Below is her part in Sofi's story.
"Before Sofi Rose became Sofi she was my Liliana. Liliana was one of a group of children whose information I received in 2012 after I had visited Bulgaria. Her foundation had heard my story of my love for my niece and nephew who were also born with neural tube defects. They knew my eyes were open to the possibilities and potential these children had if they were loved and educated. So, her foundation began requesting the profiles of children like Sofi that they knew I would fight to find families for. Sofi's information was one page of medical information and a single photo. Her orphanage was far from the capital and her information was grim. She was a tiny girl who had not yet met any milestones. Nobody visited her. Nobody bothered to go see this small girl. So with my one photo and my one page of information I decided this tiny girl deserved a fierce name. In some cultures the weakest babies are given the names of saints as protection. I decided to call Sofi Liliana as an alias. Liliana Panitza was a heroine of great strength in Sofi's home country. Liliana Panitza was instrumental on defying Hitler during WWII to save the lives of 50,000 Jews. She was not in a position of great power. She was just a girl inner strength an conviction. What better name for Sofi, who had nothing, than to call her by the name of a woman who saved so many. For over a year nobody inquired about Sofi. I would speak to families about her and invariably the families would decline interest. Until the day Tracy called. I believe I sent her information on several girls. Sofi's information was in the group. "
We received files of a few girls. We scrolled through the files, looking for the pictures. Suddenly, we stopped, entranced by this adorable baby, dressed in blue. Her eyes were large, and so wonderfully brown. Her eyes captured us, and there was no turning back.
We started on this journey of adoption, having only read that one page of medical history, and seen one baby picture.
We prayed daily, praying for her health, for her to feel our love through the miles. I would like to think that somehow, those prayers were answered. When I traveled the many hours to meet Sofi, she was much different than I expected. She was able to respond a little, she smiled a lot, and she had a few sounds. The home she lives in is clean, bright, and decorated colorfully.
It was while I was visiting her that I learned about Sofi's earlier years. And I wept for her. For the two year old that fought valiantly to live despite all of the odds stacked against her. When I learned that she should have had medicals done yearly, but it appeared that those were never done, I realized that the other orphanage expected her to die.
Almost like a physical blow, I felt so strongly that Sofi's story is huge. That this amazing little girl has a huge story...and it's just starting. That she survived the odds stacked against her because God held her in His hands, protected her, and then placed her in this home until we came along. There is no other explanation.
Sofi may never tell her story. But we will. We are so blessed to be able to do so. And all because of you.
We are so very close.
She's almost home. Her story is changing once again, but for the better. She won't have to fight alone anymore. She won't have to shed silent tears. She will reach out and I will hold her hand.
She will laugh and we will laugh with her. Her joy will be our joy. Her joy will be your joy too.
If you have wondered why we fight so hard to bring her here, why we continue to come up with all these crazy fundraisers, now you know. She fought harder than we ever will, and she fought alone. We are not alone, we have an army. An army of wonderful, loving people. An army to bring home a girl.
You are in our army.
Dear Life,
As I visited Sofi every day, my sweet husband (who stayed home to keep the home fires burning and make sure the kids weren't burning the home down) asked me how Sofi was. He asked me what she was like. We really didn't have a lot of time to talk, so I couldn't really explain it to him in great detail. You see, when I was visiting Sofi, I was in the future as Keoni said. With the time change, I was a half a day ahead of my family. Monday morning was Sunday night to them. It was funny to the kids when I would tell them all about the "future". Ha...the one time I was a fortune teller! Anyway, with the time change, we could only communicate early in the morning for me (which was night for him) and in the evening for me (which was morning for him). But with the business of visiting a certain someone twice daily, and the business of taking care of five boys, we really didn't get to communicate a lot. I did get some great messages from MyApp from Kumaka. He figured out how to send me voice messages....so he sent me twenty at a time. Every. Single. Day. So cute. Because of the very brief communications, I never completely explained to Stuart (until I came home) what Sofi was like. I would like to tell you all a little about Sofi.
What I knew from reading her medical reports was very factual, and minimal. I knew she was premature. I knew she has strabismus (a disorder in which the two eyes do not line up in the same direction and therefore do not look at the same object at the same time), I knew she had hydrocephalus, I knew she had a seizure at birth, I knew she had occipital meningocele. I knew she hadn't smiled, talked, eaten whole foods, crawled or walked, and I knew she was not fond of bathing, dressing, and being in her crib. I knew she didn't really play much with other children and I knew she liked to get attention from adults. I knew that for 2 1/2 years of her life, she lived in a crib. Her body became emaciated, and her muscles became stiff. She never knew what the sun looked like, and she never felt loving hands holding her. She was never given the opportunity to explore, to learn and grow as a baby should. She learned to be silent because no one would hear her cries. What I knew about her was words on paper. One dimensional.
I really didn't know what to think as I contemplated visiting her. I expected a child that couldn't communicate, couldn't understand anything, couldn't move, and didn't have much emotion.
I was beyond wrong. This child is like the brightest star you see in the sky at night. She shines so brightly despite the dark days she had. From the moment she was brought into the room we were in, my heart was captured. She responded to her name, most of the time with a huge smile. She loved being held and allowed me to hold her right away. (I expected her to not want me to touch her because I was a new person...but it did not matter to her. It almost felt like she knew who I was somehow.)
I showered her face with kisses for the whole week. I am sure she's never been kissed that many times in her life.
I held her as much as I possibly could and I would play with the curls in her hair and gaze at the longest eyelashes you have ever seen. I talked to her, I told her about her daddy and her brothers. I let her listen to Stuart's voice and Kumaka's voice and she literally stopped in her tracks and listened intently. After their voices stopped, her face lit up with the biggest smile. I also put music on for her, and discovered that my girl LOVES music. It makes her giggle. Yes....she giggles even. When she is really happy she coo's and when you copy her sounds she smiles as big as possible. Although she struggles with eating, she loves food. The orphanage mashes up regular food and then every day I would feed her while I was there. The consistency was much like oatmeal with different veggies or meat in it. I would have to push her tongue down with the spoon and then angle the food so it would go down her throat. She definitely needs feeding therapy. She doesn't look at one thing for very long, but there were times that a caught her taking a glimpse at me. Those moments were life altering....and when she purposefully put her arm on mine and rubbed my arm back and forth I knew that she knew somehow that we belong together.
By the end of the week, as I was holding her (and holding back my tears), she put her head down and gave my hand an open mouth kiss (the way babies kiss) and repeated that motion about five times. She struggles to make her body do what she wants it to do, but those small moments when she is able to is like a victory to me. When I put her on the blanket, she would move her body side to side, trying desperately to roll over. She's not quite there, but once she's home, she will learn to roll all over the place.
I miss holding her. I miss the surprises I had each day, as I learned something new about her every time I visited her.
I miss kissing her sweet cheek, and watching her face light up with a smile. I miss her hands, her sweet tiny hands. I miss being around her...and feeling the strong spirit that she has despite her surroundings. I miss her.
Surprisingly, the final paperwork is moving along faster than expected. We are awaiting a signature and a court date. When we get our signature, court is usually a couple of weeks after that. Once we go to court, and the judge rules that she is our daughter, we can go bring her home approximately five weeks later. SOFI MIGHT COME HOME BY CHRISTMAS.
There is a catch. It's a small catch. This is where I plead to all of you. As you contemplate all you are thankful for, as you think of your family, your home, your parents, your children, all that you hold dear, think of Sofi. Please, I beg of you, think of Sofi. Remember all I've shared with you. Know how very grateful we are as a family that you all have brought us to this point. Know how amazed we are at the sheer number of people that are a part of this little girl's story. Her story is huge. She is here for a reason. She is supposed to come to our family. I did the math when I wrote my last blog post. If each person who reads this donates $10.00, we would raise $3500. That is over half of what we owe for our final fees. THAT IS VITAL. We cannot go to court without those fees being paid. I am pleading with you all, know that as we tighten up our belts, consider donating what you can. $5, $10, it all counts. IT ALL MAKES A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HER COMING TO HER FAMILY OR STAYING THERE. And as you consider her, know that you are a part of her story. YOU HAVE MADE A DIFFERENCE IN THE LIFE OF AN ORPHAN. Her life will be forever altered because of you. This Thanksgiving I am grateful that this little girl touched my heart through a picture. I am grateful to have so many family members, friends, and strangers help us bring her home. I am grateful for family, for LOVE, for the desire we had to provide a family for an orphan. As much as her life will change, our lives have changed more and she's not here yet. We are the lucky ones, our hearts will never be the same.
