Oh goodness, your first two years home were really hard, weren't they Mila? And we were knee deep into a global pandemic and third year of hard that I honestly didn't know how we were going to handle, when the Lord showed me an issue that we could address together. Once we identified that, EVERYTHING has changed for the positive. You & I have been gifted a big breath in our relationship and I feel like I'm getting to know the real you for the first time. You. Are. Funny! And adventurous (you ASKED to dye your hair purple then you LET ME DO IT!) and quite the housekeeper--I literally haven't done the laundry in 18 months. "Mila do it, My'mom. It's mine" You will literally not hear one peep of protest from me.
You call me My'Mom which I think is beyond precious. "Thank you My'Mom". "You are welcome My'Mila" and then you smile BIG.
You'll negotiate terms of a transaction with your brother and add a super upbeat 'Ok?" with classic big sister psychology as if Isaac has just won the lottery by giving up his turn to watch a show. Nicely done.
You are THE BIGGEST CHEERLEADER for any sporting or competition event. Fear not Team, Mila White is here to make sure you CAN and should win this game. She is rooting for YOU.
You love to travel! While you are desperate to get on an airplane again, you are still eager for road trips to see new things and swim in new pools. So many children from adoption and/or Down syndrome need the safety of day to day routine at home. I am thankful that you are not only willing but excited to find new adventures with your Mom and brother.
You are showering independently now. For the last two & a half years, I've been helping you navigate all that needs to be done in the shower and then one day in July you declared you could do it! Again, not a peep out of me!
You no longer fear the unknown, so much so that I've even found your tickle spot! The vulnerability of being tickled hadn't been something you would yield to and didn't have the emotional stability to let yourself go into uncontrolled laughter without immediately falling into fearful tears. All stemming from not having a safe primary adult as infant. But now... let the tickle fest commence!
You love church--specifically our pastor! "Pasta Illinois" (Pastor Elanor) is the epitome of all things good and holy in your life and the two of you soak in each others presence. It's adorable. But it's the worship that pours from your heart in the car, in your room and apparently in the classroom that moves me. One of your teachers recognized a worship song you were singing to yourself while you were working and pulled up the lyrics on the ipad. "Teacher worship, Mom! Teacher worship!" Look at that...sharing Jesus right smack in the middle of the classroom.
You wrote your first 'story' about your family <3
The last couple months of this third year together have given so much growth and freedom. I am so proud of you Mila and your courageous heart. This whole crazy process has involved a strange blue eyed woman begging you to not trust anything you've ever known and to lean into a life that makes zero sense...and you are doing it. Very begrudgingly at first but now we are finding our rhythm; the dance of childhood both as a toddler and adolescent learning to trust and be loved.
Happy Third Family Day, Kamila Naomi. You are loved <3
I knew throughout Mila's adoption process when she arrived home that I would be at max capacity as a solo parent to two children with special needs. By saying yes to my Albanian Princess, I would effectively be closing the doors to more children entering my family (at least for a very long while). I let myself grieve but also rested secure in knowing that moving outside of God's leading, even in saying yes to adoption, would not be safe for me or my kids. I did ask the Lord, though, was there something else we could do? James 1:27 is a cornerstone scripture in our home; one of the first I ever memorized--I couldn't NOT use whatever skills I had to come along side the widow & orphan and point them toward God's unending love for them. The answer seemed pretty straight forward...a clinic, not just for the kids in foster & adoption care but the entire family. If I couldn't foster & adopt all the kids, I could support the ones who are and hopefully, increase the numbers of families who are willing. Opening a clinic like that would be no small undertaking, but it could be done, maybe? The problem though was three fold: 1) There was no such model in the whole of the PNW that I could borrow from; 2) In 2017, I didn't work for a system that would support an innovative model like this; and 3) Wherever I did work that would say yes an undertaking of this magnitude, would have to say yes to a heck of a lot of unknowns on the verge of a potential healthcare overturn in Washington DC at the time.
May of 2018, just weeks before I popped on a plane across the world (the first time) for my daughter, I ran into an old friend and Medical Director of a local healthcare system. He was excited about the adoption, asked how I was doing and when I paused to say "Hey, I think I have an idea...", he didn't even let me finish the pitch; "Let's do it. I'll crunch some numbers and talk to the CEO. Call me when you get back from Albania." All three hurdles GONE.
It took a little over a year to work through the details, but in July 2019 I changed jobs & hit the ground running attempting to build something that had never been built, with no budget, physical space or staff; just a passionate vision to share with anyone who would listen. And I talked to EVERYBODY.
(I love this little detail...). In October 2019 I was walking through the foyer of our flagship clinic and overheard a patient ask where the radiology office was. As I made my way toward the elevator, I answered in my head "it's around the corner to the left, you'll see the door next to the main entrance", except the security officer said instead "I'm sorry the radiology office closed. The space is empty.". Wait. What?! I literally stopped mid-step and did that weird sit-com thing of leaning backwards around a corner "What did you just say? Radiology isn't in that office anymore?! Who is?! Do you have keys?! Can you let me in?! Yes, I work here. Who has the keys??" God had just provided our space!
Isaac came with me to view the space with me when we got the official GO from the medical director in December 2019. (Just a few months pre-known covid, but I was sick with a horrible "respiratory infection")
Now...the money. I needed a seed fund to get us going and to justify a budget. Fast forward to Feb 2020, I had just stopped by our administrative building to drop something off when I passed our CEO in the hallway and quickly remembered he had been in a local Rotary. I backed up again, probably looking like a total weirdo. "Hey there, are you still in the Rotary?" Um. Yes. Whyyyyy? "Do they still offer community grants? Would you be ok if I asked them for a few thousand dollars to furnish the new clinic (thinking $2000 might be a stretch)?" *uncomfortable pause* I'll have to recuse myself, but go ahead. They only give out $5,000 so you'll have to make do with that. FIVE THOUSAND?! That's more than twice what I thought I would need. There is our startup fund!
The next 6 months would be a crazy season of designing a trauma-minimizing space that had never been made before in a lead-lined former radiology room that could not be physically altered. I would literally run down between patients and during my lunch hour to stare at a space to see how it could be used or unpack potential furniture or wall decor. "What about this space, Lord? How can this be used? What is Your vision here?" Here is the part I really love...my kids helping to "help the kids at mommy's work". Children once orphaned, now living out James 1:27 with the skills and abilities gifted in their own hearts & bodies. <3
July 2020:
Sorting sensory toys:
Checking the medical play supplies:
Stocking the patient snack shack: (Hungry kids are stressed out kids and we don't want that! Lots of high protein, low sugar healthy snacks available for anyone who needs or wants it)
August/September:
Every nation & tongue represented.
The start of our trauma-informed resource library. Now fully stocked and supported by a community grant!
October 19, 2020 Opening Day! Two rooms and five staff. My loves & fishes. That's all that I have to offer the Lord in this space, COVID & all. The rest is up to Him.
It was slow going for about six weeks. So slow I was rehearsing what I was going to have to say to the Board when I would surely get called out for my shenanigan's in the middle of a global pandemic. But then the local paper heard about us...
Then, the flood gates opened! Between January and April 2021 there was a 300% increase in visits. Each child, each family, each social worker overwhelming grateful for a clinic 'that get us'. YES. We did it. God did it!
By May 2021...exactly three years after the initial 'hey, I've got an idea", my little team of loaves & fishes received an award as a Foster Care Center of Excellence. And by June, we are now acting as consultants to multiple organizations in several states looking to do what we have done.
Today, October 19 2021, is our first birthday!
Our families are our superheros!
More than 325 families have walked through our doors--adults looking to become foster or adoptive licensed, scared new foster parents not sure what to do with the scared little soul that was dropped on their doorstep, adoptive parents facing the reality of deep seeded trauma and pain in the heart of their forever child, homeless teens fighting battles alone they should never have to fight, newborns struggling to recover from drugs and alcohol embedded into every brand new fiber of their being, biofamilies reunified with their children and scared to loose them again, unaccompanied minors who have struggled to find a place to be safe & free, pregnant teenagers who may or may not be carrying a child of their own choice, school age children who have seen and felt more pain & fear than most of us will every know in a lifetime and grandparents long into retirement who are dusting off their parenting skills to help raise the next generation of their family.
It can sound overwhelming and some days the weight of the brokenness in our world is HEAVY. But, there is joy. We work to find the joy. When a previously overwhelmed foster parent reports successes in the home or sends a first day of school photo with a smiling, safe, happy child, there is JOY. When housing is found for a homeless teen the day before their 18th birthday, there is JOY. When a newly separated child gets to pick out extra stuffed animals to take to their siblings during a family visit, there is JOY. When a biofamily is able to provide the safe and loving environment their child needs and gets to parent again, there is JOY. When a traumatized toddler who screamed bloody murder for the first 4 visits but on the 5th they didn't and the 6th they said bye-bye and the 7th they asked to stay in the clinic...there is JOY. When a state social worker calls just to say THANK YOU...there is JOY.
It's been an incredible year and I know the next three and five and ten will be full of God's goodness and provision both for the clinic and the families we serve. Each interaction is a moment of speaking Life into broken spaces in family lives. I am in awe daily that our Good Good Father is allowing me to serve this way.
If you would like to help celebrate our birthday, you can give HERE. This little fund allows us to keep our stuffed animal closet full of hug-ready comfort friends.
For many years I would write and share about the joy of Down syndrome during the month of October and on March 21st. I've always loved sharing about both adoption & that little extra chromosome of love that is embedded into my kids. But I've also become increasingly aware of not wanting to make my children mascots for a cause they don't yet understand and can't choose to participate in. So I've held back. And except for school IEP meetings and the occasional medical appointment (and when Isaac sticks both legs behind his head and rolls around on the ground like a potato bug) Down syndrome is not at the forefront of my brain on a daily basis. Our lives, as discombobulated as it may look from the outside, is just us being us. Ironically, for Down syndrome Awareness Month, I'm writing about not being acutely aware of the Down syndrome in my day to day life. Go figure.
There has been a lovely little awareness piece going around the interwebz about Dr. John Langdon Down who helped classify Trisomy 21 and advocated for humane inclusion:
"Down syndrome is named after John Langdon Down, a British physician who was the first to classify the condition in 1866. John Langdon Down began his career as chief physician of Earlswood, an institution for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. Prior to Earlswood, John Down had no experience caring for people with these types of disabilities. But something about them interested him. He saw their value and their humanity in a time when others didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed being around them, and he became infuriated by the way they were treated. Corporal punishment was common, there was poor hygiene, high mortality rates, and nothing enjoyable or worthwhile for the patients to do. John Langdon Down insisted on change. He hired all new staff, demanded proper care and hygiene, prohibited punishment, and offered crafts and hobbies to his patients. He took beautiful portraits of his patients, dressing them in their nicest gowns and suits, and posing them in flattering ways. He used this portrait collection of over 200 photos to support his clinical description of Down syndrome, pointing out the physical features he noticed as well as the other clinical observations he made.
In 1868, he bought a large white mansion as a home for people with Down syndrome, rather than an “institution”. He ensured that the mansion met the highest standards of comfort and hygiene. All people who were brought to the mansion were privately educated. They were taught to ride horses, garden, and craft. Creative outlets were provided and he had a small theater built as an addition to the mansion. This mansion was called Normansfield, and is still around today in the UK. Now, it is named The Langdon Down Center and Normansfield Theater.
So “Down” has nothing to do with delays, or disposition, or prognosis of the syndrome. It’s just named after a really, really cool person.
These are some photos from John Down’s collection. Beautiful then and beautiful now!"
I love those pictures <3 but I love this one even more:
Happy Down Syndrome Awareness Month from the two coolest T21'ers there are.
The weather was clear and dry. The kids were out of school early and I didn't have to work in the afternoon. Come on, kids...we're going to the pun'kin patch!
The rule is simple...any pun'kin you want but YOU have to be able to carry it to the wheelbarrow. Neither of them messed around this year. Isaac even got Mila to help him drag his 20 pounder to the wheelbarrow. (We are going to be eating roasted pun'kin seeds until Valentines day!)
Ducky Races:
It's simple fun and full of memory building and it's one of my most favorite things.
Just look at all these memories at the Pun'kin Patch <3
