Dogs, Books, Babies and a Glimmer of Hope

Have you noticed in my last several posts that I'm really trying hard not to obsess over our referral? I have been finding new things to obsess about.

1. Serious cramping/pain in my lower abdomen.

Day one: treated it as beginning of cycle. Early.

Day two: looked all over internet and decided it is early pregnancy cramping. Spent day having faux pregnancy which involved eating a frosty and fries (now that I am eating for two you know...) and calculating my due date online.

Day three: pain moves from lower abdomen to upper abdomen and after much more googling decide that it is side effects from my PCOS - obviously a bleeding cyst.

Today is Day Four and since I have way too many other interesting things to think about I've decided that I'm better. (Although faux pregnancy continues since I refuse to take a test and put an end to the daydream. By the time it ends I'm sure I'll have gained 5 lbs.)

2. Building a baby book library that is reflective of baby's race and culture and our uniqueness as as an adoptive family. This has become a major obsession and was fueled by an article I read by an adoptive father recently who stated that he had spent years helping his children adopted from Russia appreciate their culture. "Their MISSISSIPIAN culture." HUGH UGH. I know I ask this a lot, but what is wrong with people?

3. Milo. Well you saw in my last post that I am on a mission to rescue Milo in Thailand.

I can't help but feel personal responsibility and guilt that I left Milo (fully knowing that at some point the tsunami volunteers would all leave and probably not consider taking him) and brought Talay home with me. She was a cute little puppy. Milo was an older dog. I think it mirrors some of my guilt in our adoption. If I really analyze it. We've asked for a baby/toddler. Instead of one of the older children who I know need and desperately want to be adopted but have less hope of growing up with a family. I'm no therapist but after analyzing my obsession with Milo that's what I've come up with. Not that I plan to stopy trying to help him. Am planning a fundraiser for Milo and the S.oi D.og F.oundation here in Denver.

(BTW, did you see how FAST the organization found my post and commented yesterday? Wow. Serious proof of the power of G.oogle A.nalytics.)

(My last night on the beach in Khao Lak. Milo was so happy to go to the beach.)

(Milo playing with Talay. I flew home the next day and Talay arrived by cargo a few days later.)

4. I have saved the best for last for those of you still reading. There are referral deee velllll oppppp mennnttttsss...... (read the last word in a sing songy voice - that helps.)

What to share? What not to share? I would share it all if I thought it would be ok with our agency.

Bare minimum details. A little girl that I have known about for 2 months will be paper ready for referral at end of this month. She is a little over our ideal age range. But her name has found a place in my heart and thoughts. We have never seen a photo of her but a friend is at her orphanage for the next 10 days and will email me a little report with pictures and her thoughts.

Our agency is going to be working with a new orphanage. One that cares specifically for kids with the special need we have requested. When I opened my email this morning and saw the details my stomach cramps and malaise just sort of disappeared. I might even organize the basement this weekend!

I hope. I hope that after reading my last week of posts nobody comes away from this blog wondering why we are adopting. I hope that you will leave a comment if you want to talk more offline. I hope that I am not too much of a downer but have helped anyone considering adoption to think through some of the issues clearly. I'm glad to have this forum, and all of the amazing adoptive mothers who are willing to dialogue, because there is always room to examine, debate, and discuss when we are talking about children's lives. Thanks.

Signing off with hope,

~A

My Thai Life

End of January and I feel restless. Working from home I am watching the gray sky, skeletal trees, and crusty snow outside the window. I admit to peeking at homes for rent/sale in Thailand today for a tiny break.

I blame this 'end of January restlessness' on a pattern that has been created over the past 3 years. It is a pattern of travel that has whisked me out of the hateful U.S. winter and into three amazing overseas experiences. All took place in February. My least favorite winter month. Now I feel I have a right to just leave in February!

In honor of that first year, and the most amazing experience of my life, I will write about Thailand.

(Bang Niang boatyard-J helped on the larger boat)

Three years ago today I was packing to move to Thailand for 5ish months. I remember the suitcase and hiking pack lying open in our bedroom in DC. I was determined not to forget a thing or end up feeling rushed with the packing. Bit by bit the bags filled up with with essentials for life in southern Thailand: flip flops, cotton skirts and khaki pants for work, sunscreen and bugspray, lots of books to read, immodium AD.


Snowstorms kept sweeping through the east coast and my February 14th departure date was pushed back to the 15th. (It was a nice Valentine's Day gift.)

I had been to Thailand before. I taught ESL in Bangkok for a summer between my Sophomore and Junior years of college. I knew that it would be hot, uncomfortable, smelly, crowded, and did I mention HOT? But when I arrived for this 5 month consultancy I quickly realized that I was having a new and improved, adult, Thai experience. I was staying in a lovely air conditioned hotel with international buffets. I was traveling by air conditioned taxis. I was treated to great food in premier restaurants for the Chinese New Year. Mmmmm. So good to be back as an adult.

(Thai junk food that I lived on in college - cha dam yen cold tea and sticky sweet rice.)

It was a life-changing five months. I was operating in my dream job. Working for my dream organization. I was trusted, allowed to manage the pilot project in the way I saw fit, manage my staff (and let some go when I needed to!), and live independently but with enough money to make it very comfortable.

And did I mention that this job was located in rural southern Thailand? Otherwise known as Paradise.

After a few days of meetings in Bangkok I flew with my new team to Khao Lak. The area one hour north of Phuket (world class tourist destination) that was hardest hit by the tsunami two years earlier.

(My beloved little baby blue house - see Talay peeking over the green pillow?)

I remember my first night in Khao Lak. Living in a guest house near the beach with my team - before we found our own local housing. I walked down the sandy road to the water. It was still tourist season and the resort terraces were filled with laughter, twinkle lights, and the smell of cooking seafood. I stood down on the endless sandy expanse and threw my head back to stare at the stars. It was glorious. I had never felt so lucky.

(The elephant photos-taken in Chiang Mai - Best Day Ever.)

It was sometimes lonely though. Often uncomfortably hot or annoyingly rainy. It was challenging. It was hilarious in hindsight but frequently bitterly annoying in the present.

It was poignant and emotionally demanding. Dogs came into my life. Dogs died.

A baby came into my life and that same baby quietly left this life.

Looking back I can see how God used that heartbreaking time for good in our own adoption. Baby girl had the same (life threatening only if left untreated) condition we have requested in our adoption referral.

Adults/coworkers/tourist aquaintances came and went with shocking frequency in such a short period of time. And while all of the coming and going swirled around me the days and minutes crept by, made slow and sluggish by the unrelenting heat.

It was lonely at times but it was exhilarating. It was the most beautiful place I have ever been. I was fully alive. I spent sunset walking on the beach almost every evening. When I needed a break from it all I took my scooter down the road to Le Meridien resort and drove in pretending to be a guest. These solitary breaks with a beach chair, soft towel and fruity drink kept me sane.


I went to a Burmese wedding. I made two friends that I will have for life. I learned how to order gas for my car in Thai. I drove a manual (giant) truck on the left side of the road with gusto. I became tan and thin and warm. I learned to open coconuts on my house gate and drank a lot of fresh juice. My tongue became strong enough for red chilies. I got stung by a jellyfish and laughed it off. I learned the subtleties of managing Thai and Burmese staff when you are neither subtle, or Thai or Burmese!


I did not save any children as the name of my organization would suggest I should have been doing. But I did a good job on the project and left knowing that we had accomplished what we set out to do. And I saved one small golden puppy who is sitting by my side right now.

(Top-the puppy lost. Below-the puppy saved.)

It is hard to believe that three years have passed. I was a tiny blip in the huge post-tsunami response that spanned approximately three years. And I know that many people gave up a lot of time and resources to be there for much longer doing much more impactful work for a lot less reward.


But I can claim a tiny piece of Khao Lak/Bang Niang as my own. And I miss my lifestyle there. I miss watching J (who took 6 weeks leave of absence to join me for awhile) create pieces of furniture from bamboo rods in our little covered driveway. I miss my tiny Shangri-la and my view from my office window.


Life was lived so fully that year. There was nothing more I wanted and I miss that feeling. I miss the wild drive weaving through the hills and jungly countryside between Khao Lak and Phuket. I miss the challenge of navigating Bangkok for my monthly meetings. I miss the ease with which I could hop on a plane to anywhere in southeast Asia.

(An awe inspiring trip to Angkor Wat in Cambodia with J.)

I remember the last flight. The last flight from Phuket to Bangkok and the taxi ride I took to my hotel for my last round of meetings. The song on the radio "take me home, my country road, to the place, where I belong..." It was ironic. It was nostalgic. But the consultancy was over and I was no longer needed. I was desperately ready to go home. But desperately wishing to stay forever.

I didn't know I would be back to Bangkok exactly one year after I had first arrived, but that is a story for another day...

~A

Where I am vs. where I wish I were

This. Is where I am today. (The view from my home office looking into the backyard.)


How is this possible you ask? It is only October 28th you point out.
Where is fall? Where are the leaves? Where are my mountain hikes? Where is the sunshine Colorado promised us?

Why can't I see the hammock anymore?
Why didn't I watch the weather channel?
Why is our Wednesday night meals group cancelling when we all live within 12 blocks of each other? (Seriously - don't you find that a little strange?)

This is where I wish I were.

Talay is very unhappy with this weather as well. This is Talay today. (Very very sad about the snow. Or maybe just the camera. She has photo phobia.)


She has very little body fat. I have decided to get her a doggie sweater. Something with little snowflakes. Like a ski sweater. I have not told J. He will not like that plan. But she is cold! Look at her!!

Oh, if only my Thai colleagues could see her now. The smug smiles, the clucking tongues. Yes, they would be horrified. They warned me heavily that a Thai dog would die in the American winter. (Never mind the fact that if she had stayed in Thailand she would have starved to death or been eaten alive by mange by now.) A sweater, yes, that is what she needs.

This is where Talay wishes she could be (taken last year on almost this exact date!)

I wish I were in Greece. Jeremy I spent almost two weeks in Greece in May for our 10th wedding anniversary. All I have now is a postcard.

I had an adoption dream last night. I dreamt that the agency called and offered us 3 siblings. They were not little - they were at least pre-teens. I kept thinking "but I asked for under 20 months old didn't I?" It was so confusing! Here come the crazy dreams!!

~A

A great dog

My baby is almost 11 and a half and today is having several of her teeth pulled. When she gets home from the doggie dentist she will be just a little bit older and a little less able to chew her food.

Today J and I looked at Cassidy as she was leaving for the vet and we both realized that we have precious little time left with her. She's in her senior years now. Slower, sleepier, hungrier (!)

She snores now. She sleeps in a patch of sun all day. At night it's getting harder and harder to wake her up for her before bed bathroom break.

But when we look at her she's still our baby.

I hope she is still here to enjoy our human baby when he/she arrives.

This is Cassidy's story.

In J's last year of college he talked a lot about wanting a dog. His grandpa had owned a beautiful English Springer Spaniel and in the last months of his life this little dog gave him comfort and love whenever he could be snuck into the hospital room.

I am a dog lover. It didn't take me long to capitalize on J's interest and find some puppies for sale ads in the local paper. (Yep - way before Craigslist!)

We called a breeder who told me over the phone that she had just one puppy left. That we could come and interview with her and she'd let us meet this puppy.

It was a perfect Minnesota evening as we drove up to Chaska. We had some unmemorable interaction with the breeder and her male and female dogs and then. THEN...we walked out back and saw her. Cassidy was across the yard and when she heard us come out she came running, ears flapping, tail wagging, doggie smiling, and threw herself in our arms.

It did take some work to convince the breeder that we would be responsible dog parents. But the next day we were back to pick her up.

Cassidy has gone everywhere with us. She's lived in J's bachelor pad apartments-allowed to snuggle on any and all furniture. She's moved across the country with us curled on a pillow between the front seats in 2 different moving vans. She has helped us to make friends in dog parks large and small and she gave me courage to get out on my own after we got married and moved to our first new city. Cassidy brought me Julia, one of my favorite people. And Ella, one of our favorite dog friends.


Cassidy has good naturedly flown to Alaska. And Texas. And Washington, DC.

She has run up waterfalls and down mountain trails and through cherry blossoms along the tidal basin. She has jogged alongside our inline skates and pulled me when I was tired. She has swam in lakes, rivers, and streams across the country. Cassidy has licked our toes until we laughed and kissed away many tears.

12 week old Cassidy jumped in a huge lake and tried to join (in her mind save) J windboarding.

Cassidy once fished a puppy out of a deep stream.

Cassidy once met President Obama before he was President.

In her less than illustrius moments Cassidy has eaten all manor of dangerous substances. A mouse/rat from the alley in DC. A squeaky hotdog that was as long as one of her legs when she was 3 months old. A cassette tape of my ESL students' final exams. A full basket of chocolate easter eggs. That girl loves to eat!

In more recent years Cassidy has lived through two major health emergencies. She has survived for us. She never complains, she is endlessly loving, and always up for time together. Even though she is slow on the hikes these days we always take her along. She loves the view from the car ride.

I can't believe that tonight I'll be feeding Cassidy soft dog food. She's an old girl now. We don't have to worry about food on the counters because she can't jump anymore. She can't jump into the back of the car. We have to keep her on a leash when she swims because she can't fight a river current these days.

But she's still my girl and has been the child I needed through many human childless moments. She holds within herself all of the best memories of our years together as a family.

~A