Where is my brother?

Four years ago, we met in the courtyard of an orphanage across the world. One of the first questions she asked me was: ku eshte vellai im?    Where is my brother?   (In the video documentation of the day, I mistranslated the word vellai and asked her if she wanted to PLAY?  Then she gave me the first of many, many, many looks like I'm an idiot). 

She was raised with three 'sisters' the same age as she, also with down syndrome.  They shared a room, clothes and life experiences.  I'm sure in the three days since being notified that she had a brother coming for her, she had a lot of questions as to what that included. 

Looking at his picture before he arrived...

What make & model am I getting?

He's here! 

Giving the traditional (way too hard!) Albanian cheek pinch.

Not too sure about this...

Isaac: MOM! She pinched me and now she won't play ball! 

(she absolutely refused to play ball with him)

It's been 10 min. She is definitely not impressed. She wants a refund. 

Sibling jealousy hit hard and fast. The Sisters reported that Mila would cry every day when I would go back to Isaac in our little European apartment and she had to stay behind in the orphanage.  How do you explain such inequity to a tender heart?? All the photos in Albania had me strategically positioned between the two, making sure they both knew I was fully available to them; a practice I continued for over a year when we came home.  Despite that effort an early honeymoon phase, for nearly 15 months every time Isaac would enter the room, Mila would promptly go out the other side.  She clearly didn't sign up for this brother nonsense and was going to have absolutely nothing to do with him.  It broke my heart. 💔 What made it worse was how much Isaac adored his new big sister--he wanted nothing more than to please/annoy her every moment of the day.  Enter the COVID Shutdown.  24/7 of nothing but your mother & brother.  Not even Gramma was available to provide emotional respite. 

That's when it happened...she started staying in the room.  Then she started not rejecting him. Which lead to some engagement in play. Which lead to squabbles and laughter and togetherness. COVID was a backwards answer to prayer. 

Fast forward to 4 years of siblinghood. 

Within the miracle of adoption and all the pain that it entails, the joy that blossoms is all the more beautiful in these two faces. <3 

Three Little Words

 There are miles of important dates in motherhood.  The day you find out about your child, the day they come home, their first smile, their first tooth, the first time they intentionally say 'I love you'.  

Isaac said his first 'I love you' the night before his 3rd birthday, November 19, 2013. 💖  His little lips struggled to make the sounds but it was clear as a bell. I.  Was.  A. Mess.

Today...Mother's Day, May 8, 2022, is the day forever marked as the day Mila initiated her first 'I love you' to me.  💝    Fresh from my own shower, dressed in a robe with a towel on my head, I popped into her room to make sure she was getting dressed.  She looked me straight in the eyes and said "You know what, Mommy?  Mila love you. Mila love Mommy. You!" as she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big hug.   For nearly 4 years she had responded to my I Love Yous but never initiated her own.  Today was her day.  Today was OUR day.  I.  Was.  A.  Mess.  

 

Three little words: Are you hungry, Please be kind, Time for bed, You are safe, Try it again, Who did this, Get in the car, Pick that up, Not this time, Where's your shoe, Momma needs (a) break, That's good thinking, Let's clean up.  The vast majority of my day is three little words, but I love you is the one I aim to say the most.  The three little words I never want there to be any doubt about.  Three little words that they can speak on their own because they were loved first.  (1 John 4:19)