Cognitive Tests…Make it hard to come with a title

My afternoon yesterday was most likely your night…since I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific ocean. I read through Facebook posts and tweets about the Cardinals losing, Monday night football, Dancing With the Stars and some pretty nasty comments about the presidential debate. My mind was on other things. I was googling “mental retardation.” I engrossed myself in stigmas and causes. Medicinenet.com defines it this way, “Mental retardation: The condition of having an IQ measured as below 70 to 75 and significant delays or lacks in at least two areas of adaptive skills. Mental retardation is present from childhood.”

I read about studies done in orphanages in Budapest. Some said that for each month a child spends in an orphanage up to age three, their IQ score goes down 1/2 point. I read about stigmas of each name. How retard has become a dirty word. I know, I used it on just about everything growing up in the ’80s. Now, the politically correct phrase is developmentally delayed. Huh? That’s Jack’s special need according to all his paperwork.

Why am I bringing all this up now? I just left Jack’s cognitive assessment. I won’t have the results for several weeks, but I know the test the psychiatrist was using needed to be changed to fit his level more than once over the three hours we spent in that little room. Jack was awesome. I think in the same situation I would have been irritated with someone asking me the same question in a sing song voice repeatedly. I didn’t do so awesome. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t lost my composure. Here’s the thing. It’s a standardized test and Jack, well, Jack’s not standard. We call those little wax things colors. Dolls are babies. I’m Mama, not Mommy. Grandpa is a bear. Things like that tend to skew a test. I can’t think of a time I’ve said, “Jack give me the _____.” I say, “Can I have ____?” or “Hand me the _____.” “Get your shoes.” “Find your cup.” I wanted to yell, “You aren’t asking the right way!” I did finally say, “In our house those are (and then I spelled out) B-A-B-I-E-S.” That’s when I got the standard rules for standardized test speech.

Jack can count higher than half the kids on Bria’s class but he won’t answer if you say, “Jack, how old are you?” He just learned to say “Mama and Daddy” not that long ago. Jack parrots our behavior. Matching something is an abstract concept for him. He shares. He tries to do what we ask. Today I was overwhelmed leaving the test when he patted my shoulder and said, “Woook! Is a train!” He is getting it, ever so slowly. The fact is for whatever reason he is delayed.

I heard all about the orphanage delay. I had delusions of grander. Apparently what I heard loudest was, “he will catch up.” Instead of that, can’t speak, low muscle tone, missing fine motor skills points. I heard he’ll be like everyone else. He’s not. Neither is Arleigh, or Hanan or Bria. We all come with our own set of kinks and quirks. Low IQ was off my radar. I thought this would be, show him a car, say car, he’ll learn car sort of deal. It’s not. I’m mad right now because I hear some people saying, “I told her so.” I hear the naysayers in my head saying, “Do you know what’s going to happen to your family?” or “Did you really count the cost.” When I am overwhelmed with Jack’s delay I’m reminded that there were people along the way of our paper chase who wanted to tell me it would be too hard. When I’m struggling, sometimes I wonder what they are thinking now.

This is what I would say to myself of almost two years ago when we were just getting Jack’s file…

Dear Self,

If you think the paperwork is scary now, you don’t know what scary is. Wait until they take him back for an MRI to look for brain damage. It is going to get a whole lot worse. It’s not blue skies and rainbows and sisters loving on brother the second you get off the plane. It’s hard. He’s going to get mad because he can’t tell you how he feels. You are going to get mad because all you want is a day at the beach and the beach is going to be the most terrifying place on earth the first few times he goes.

During this paper chase there is something about it. You are broken and want your boy home but you also feel like you are part of something bigger. You somehow really see your place in God’s plan. It’s easy now to shirk off naysayers. It’s a bit harder when Jack is in your arms and you want him to act like a normal little boy and he’s not. When you are holding him and he is tremoring like a seizure is coming on just because something is new and people are giving both you and Jack funny looks, try to remember that Wonder Woman feeling you have right now. It’s a bit harder to hold on to these days but it’s still there. Remind yourself that you are still part of God’s plan. You are helping the world see God’s love in a little boy.

Don’t quit. Jack will teach you so much about yourself. Some good, some bad. Jack is going to show you and those little girls a bigger world. He is going to win EVERYONE over even though he doesn’t talk much. The random guy at the school will come to love him. He will make people laugh out loud on a regular basis and you get to watch as he touches their hearts. Jack is going to open up compassion in Arleigh, Hanan and Bria like you’ve never seen. Bria will walk away from her little sister role to become a champion to her brother. You’re going to cry over all the tests. It’s going to be hard to watch him fail. Hard isn’t impossible. In his failing, he just gives himself more room to grow.

Jack isn’t going to be what you thought. He won’t be perfect. He’s going to be better. He may be with you until he’s 18 or forever. Either way it’s okay because you’re going to learn that when he’s around, you’re better. Delays are hard to swallow. It’s just one more mountain to climb. God wouldn’t have sent Jack to you if He thought you couldn’t do it. Somedays you may think you can’t. Remember that with God, you can.

Don’t quit! Sincerely,

B

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Brandi Stiff

Brandi is a Christian, military wife and mama to four true blessings. After living in Iceland and Maryland she started blogging so their extended family could keep up with their life on the east coast. Two moves and two kids later, one brought home from China, it’s about faith and family, dealing with developmental delays and their misadventures in Hawaii. You can read more here.

The Contradiction of Adoption

There are not many situations in our lives that are so deeply rooted in contradiction.

Adoption.

The family born through hurt, anger, poverty, disease, and abandonment.

The laughter peeking through years of late night weeping.

The smiles forcing their way out of night terrors and a childhood lost.

The perseverance of parents wanting to love a child deeply, but finding the bricks built higher and higher in his fortress of protection.

The task is not just about loving a child. It’s about allowing yourself to be abandoned. Allowing the words of the Lord speak for you when the end of yourself seems too far.

The time lost to poverty and sickness. God can redeem.

A word spoken in harshness to a child wrapped in hurt and confusion. God can restore.

A child afraid of being abandoned. Again. A parent longing for a hug from a child who sees a hug as threatening, not loving. God can remember.

The heart can seem lost and the days can seem surrendered to impatience. God can refresh.

God never promises us easy days. Quite the opposite actually. He understands having a son betrayed and mocked. He cares for His children who scream curses and walk away, turning their backs on Him.

But only for a time.

His redemption is sure.
His restoration is complete.

________________________________________

Carrie

 

Carrie and her family have lived in China for 7 years. A homeschooling mother of 5, she makes it through the day with prayer and a bit of caffeine. 3 years ago, God flipped their family’s world upside down through the blessing of adoption. They have watched Him not only orchestrate the adoption but compose a life dependent on His grace. Her first book, Redefining Home: Squatty Potties, Split Pants, and Other Things that Divide My World, came out not long ago. Feel free to follow along and laugh at their crazy lives with them at Rescued Remnant.

He Is Here

In the feeding of bottles
And the spooning of cereal
In the wiping of faces
And the wiping of tears

He is here

As cleft lips are kissed
And toes are rubbed
And smiles are coaxed

He is here

In the sicknesses
In the surgeries
In the uncertainties

He is here

In the lullabies that are sung
And the books that are read
And the prayers that are whispered
Pleading for health
For hope
For home

He is here

And I find that this call to

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time there was a sweet little family of four. There was a Daddy and a stay-at-home-Mommy and a little girl and a baby boy. Life was happy and sweet and their plates were full.

The Daddy and Mommy always stayed very busy. The Daddy was climbing the career ladder at work and the Mommy stayed busy with the children and their many activities.

The little family had big dreams. They dreamed of building a big, beautiful home on the lot of their tiny 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house. They dreamed of taking their two childen on exotic, international trips every summer. They dreamed of country club memberships and educating their children at the very best private schools in Atlanta. The Mommy dreamed of upholstered furniture and custom window treatments for each room of their home. The Daddy dreamed of a lake house and early retirement and expanding his stock portfolio.

And then one night in the midst of all this dreaming the Lord gripped our hearts

{Advocating} Dancing Machine

Gifts are all opened. Toys have been played with and continue to be. Food has been eaten…and will be reheated today for round 2.

As we continue to enjoy family and rest, we cannot forget those who are still waiting. Children who have been waiting for years. This child–made ready for adoption and waiting for nearly 2 years for someone to make him theirs.

Read about him. Share about him. Maybe his family will meet him today for the first time. Now, that would be a Merry Christmas.

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Not just another summer. This past July, my husband and I returned to China to be part of of the Bring Me Hope Camp in Xian for Chinese orphans. This was our 2nd BMH camp in Xian. And, knowing what we were getting into, we were both very excited to spend 5 days with children who would no doubt change us as we served them.

I was blessed to actually go to the orphanage to collect the orphans and bring them to our campsite. And, the first child I saw was a little boy I remembered from the year before, a little boy who had been buddied with my friend. His little face just beamed when he saw me. Twelve months later, he clearly knew me. And, as happy as I was to see him, I was hoping I would not. I was hoping he wouldn’t still be there.

This year, he was my buddy. My little man

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