Thursday, July 25, 2013

Food Security

As an adoptive mama,
I struggle with balancing nutritional needs with children's eating preferences.

Wait . . .
as a parent
(period)
I struggle with these issues.

There is a certain child in my household
who once was very, very thin,
and we struggled to put weight on him for a long, long time.

We supplemented meals with Pediasure.
We had his tonsils and adenoids evaluated.
We limited milk to avoid filling up on liquid instead of solid food . . .
(which was not the problem, by the way.)
Whole milk switched to 2%,
then only with meals,
then back to whole milk for the calories . . .
We even medicated him with Periactin,
an old antihistamine used to stimulate appetite,
which made him a very, very angry boy:
Unbearable behavioral side effects that even he noticed and asked why he was having.
No go.

You know what worked eventually?
Chicken nuggets, french fries, McDonald's cheeseburgers,
cheese quesadillas, lots of yogurt (thank God he loves Greek yogurt),
milkshakes (Pediasure, protein supplements, ice cream, whatever) . . .

Now, he is a picky eater.

He likes hot dogs and cheese chips.
He'll eat Subway, but prefers a good cheese pizza.
He loves pancakes and bacon, biscuits (no gravy, please), and waffles.

He's 8 years old now and finally 67 pounds.
He's in gymnastics and swims and loves to ride his bike.
He'll eat raw carrots and small portions of salad, if coated in ranch dressing,
but expect him to eat potatoes or green beans and he'll literally puke in his plate.



Compare him to his younger brother:
Also thin, but in a different way . . .
Under the ribs that one can count, there is a bit of a swollen belly.
He's much, much shorter than his older brother,
with little bitty feet,
and at 7 years old, he wears 5T clothing.

But I'm sure those things will change rapidly,
soon.


I have personally witnessed him having a square roll for a meal,
off set the following night by a plate of rice and beans
heaping so high that I would have difficulty eating it all . . .
but he did, of course,
in case the next dinner was bread again.

When we visit, he constantly asks for water in the bottle we bring,
something that isn't always available to him, otherwise.

What will he think when he is finally home,
able to push a button on the fridge and have cool water whenever he wants,
all the time.

We have snacks and meals and more snacks,
all day long.

Every
single 
day.

How do I argue with one to eat,
while the other struggles not to hoard and over eat?

How do I discipline one for not even tasting food that he deems to be "yucky looking,"
when the other feels guilt for his friends left behind and the food they don't have?

Where is the balance?

I can read all about one,
and work with him to accept his blessings without guilt or fear of losing his new security . . .
but other than nagging and reminding him what his brother does not have,
instilling guilt in him, I'm not sure how to fix the oldest.



We are cooking more at home,
buying organic and trying tasty recipes;
always having fresh fruit and veggies present and available . . .
but the war rages on.




Tonight, we made cookies simultaneously with dinner.
They help me cook and love being in the kitchen participating,
but when the time comes to eat or miss out on dessert, the pressure is on.

G repeatedly told his sister about "barfing in the toilet" after eating potatoes,
etc., etc. with lots of embellishment.
I was effectively ignoring most of it while cleaning up the dishes,
until I heard the distinct sound of gagging and turned to see my little one's eyes full of tears,
mouth bulging and the look of fear all over her face.

I banished him to his room and announced his dinner done.
Sister spit out her potato on command and sobbed to catch her breath.
Unbelievable.

I tried to cool down, but lost it when I called him out and told him of the food insecure children in our own community, including a child I cared for today:
obviously malnourished and behind on his developmental milestones,
taken into state custody at the age of 3 young years.

A son, spoiled by his economic status,
comfortable in his environment and secure in his needs being met;
Unaware of the blessings we take for granted that make us a minority.





Another son, waiting with no idea of what lies ahead of him,
but secure that he will be loved and wanted and part of a family.

A mama, torn between two worlds,
aware of what others need and do not always have,
wanting to teach my children and show them what they have . . .

not wanting them to grow up too fast,
but also needing to make them aware.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Good Day

What a glorious blessing we received this week!

Our dear friend,
and a caregiver to our son Dimitry,
visited our home for the very first time.
(from 2012)
It was such a joy to have Sister Claudette in our home,
finally meeting my parents,
and seeing where we will bring our boy to!

(Why didn't I take any photos of her in my house??)

Even though I have no physical proof of her visit,
my heart is full from her presence
and just hearing her say that our Dimitry asks for us,
fills my soul.

Soon, my son . . . soon.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Here we go again . . .


Another tropical storm . . . 

Another rainy season . . . 

Time continues to pass without word of progress towards a passport.

We have a son in another country,
waiting for us to come and bring him home.

He wonders when we will be there . . . 

How long he will have to wait . . . 

If his new family longs for him like he does for them.

His heart breaks,
day after day,
waiting and wondering
when we will come.

Sister tells us
Dimitry asks for you.

And my heart breaks,
again and again.

And I pray,
again and again.

Today, on the radio, I heard that we should come BOLDLY yet humbly before God,
not only with our typical concerns or fears or needs, 
but with our heart's greatest desires.

We frequently ask Him for the strength to do what we already have the ability to do.
We should ask Him to move mountains.

Mountains of paperwork,
mountains of red tape,
mountains of hypocrisy or doubt . . . 
We should ask God for the things we see as miracles.

I was told this months ago.
I changed the way I prayed,
for a while.

I guess I forgot, though.

I began to pray in praise -
thanking God for the work He has yet to do,
but I know He will do in my life,
in my son's life,
for my family.

Maybe what He wants is for me to ask Him for the "impossible."

Perhaps He wants me to demonstrate my trust in Him.
Perhaps, my fears are so tied up in the lack of tangible evidence that our adoption is nearing completion
that I keep forgetting to put my trust in the One who does have control.

I yearn to hold my son,
and wish I could return him to the 4 year old baby he was when we met . . . 
but I cannot.

I can pray to my God to protect him while he waits,
institutionalized,
surrounded by many much older than him,
and beseech my Father to shield his innocence.

2010
I need to believe that is happening.

I need my son to believe that we are coming for him.

I need him to know that we are trying, 
very, very hard.