At the Doctor

This morning, Maxim met our pediatrician, Charlotte Worpel. She is an excellent doctor as well as woman of faith. We are so blessed to know her. She gave Maxim a thorough exam from head to toe and is already in touch with orthopedic specialists in Grand Rapids who will see us soon.

Dr. Worpel said she is impressed at how many things Maxim has figured out how to do for himself and that he is persistent and generally willing to keep trying. He does have many issues that will need to be dealt with, physically, and we will need the orthopedic specialists' wisdom to sort out priorities.

I was encouraged that there is no obvious indication that heart problems mentioned in some of our Ukrainian medical papers actually exist. To be on the safe side, we will get some chest x-rays, but Dr. Worpel found no glaring reason to think anything is wrong. Maxim's energy, color and the sound of his heart are all good.

Although his club feet are severe, Maxim's right leg can be straightened all the way and he does bear weight on it when pulling up to furniture, seemingly without any pain. His left leg does not extend all the way. Dr. Worpel felt that his spine is in good condition and alignment at this point, in spite of sitting with his legs curled up all the time.

We anticipate that in addition to surgeries to correct the club feet, Maxim will also need work on his left leg to allow him full extension.

In Michigan, we have access to a state insurance for children with disabilities (up to age 21) which covers things related to their needs not fully covered by a family's primary insurance. We have this for our daughter Cyan as well. For example, if a special needs child is determined to need a walker and the primary insurance will only cover part of it, the state insurance pays the balance. The only time the state insurance will not do this is when the primary insurance has been unwilling to cover any portion of a particular bill. We have only experienced this once, when we decided to pursue some experimental treatments for Cyan's cerebral palsy. Those particular approaches were not FDA approved at the time (hyperbaric oxygen "dives" twice a day all summer in 2000), so our insurance company wanted nothing to do with it.

Anyway, we feel blessed that although our primary insurance has covered less and less in the last few years, as long as they cover something, state insurance still kicks in and special needs children don't need to fall through the cracks.
Having talked with parents in other states who have limited primary insurance and no state insurance, I more fully appreciate not having to choose constantly what to pay for out of pocket or not have at all. I can't imagine how difficult that would be. The set-up we have here in Michigan is not perfect by any means, but we are still blessed.

Maxim handled his check-up very well. Overall, his whole first week home has been remarkably calm. He is having to get used to some of the running we have to do on certain days in order to get his siblings where they need to go, but he likes meeting other people and seems fine as long as someone tells him where we're going and why. He is very persistent about not being "left in the dark". Explain things to him, and he's good to go.

Maxim is still figuring out our dog, Sydney. He sees the rest of us pet her and hears us speak to her without fear, but he also sees her exuberance and her size (10 lbs. more than him) and prefers to be well up off the floor, preferably somewhere like Daniel's shoulders, when Sydney appears.

Sleep continues to be going smoothly. Maxim rests very well and the only time he's been concerned in his room (shared with big brother Joel, thirteen) is once when he fell off during the night (Joel heard him, comforted him and he went right back to sleep), and once when Joel got up early and closed the bedroom door tight when he left the room. I think Maxim figured he was being left behind and he does not know how to reach our doorknobs. As soon as I realized he was in there crying, I scooped him up and brought him into my room where Daniel and I were having our morning prayer and Bible reading time. Maxim really likes to pray and enjoys carrying around a little children's "bible" given by a friend of ours. Daniel arriving home from work is a highlight of the day for him, because they always wrestle together (Joel joins in as well). Maxim loves to make lots of noise in the process and shout "1,2, 3!", even though he can't come close to pinning Papa.

As we enjoy welcoming Maxim and getting back to "normal" at our house, I am mindful that some families who were in Ukraine with us are still there. They have a journey yet ahead of them just to get home. Other families are freshly home as we are and in the adjustment period as well. Then there are the couples getting ready to travel soon (Debbie and Jerry, can't believe the day is almost here for you. Happy prepping. Hope it's going well). At every stage of adoption, prayer is the key. I cannot imagine how we would do any of this, the delights or delays, without being able to lean on the Almighty. He it is Who has adopted us and leads us through the process of adopting. During the process, families get weary and/or discouraged from time to time, so don't forget to lift them up in prayer. What is brought to your mind to pray over them may be something they've never even thought of, but God uses you to bring it to His throne on their behalf. Isn't it neat to think of how He uses us to help and encourage each other even if we've never met face to face?

One thing I have found interesting in my own adjustment being back home has to do not so much with how I interact with Maxim and the others as how I adjust to being back in the Amerian culture. There is a rush rush rush that I feel the pull of, although we have never been the something-every-evening-for-each-child kind of household. There is a part of me that wants to jump right back in to our own day to day routine (just get back to life) while another part of me is saying I have to give myself permission to be tired and time to process everything we have just experienced. Also, although our home is small and we have always had to regularly re-evaluate what we have and whether we really need it anymore, I see all our "stuff" from a different perspective now. I am in an intense season of weeding out and the kids are helping. After writing earlier that I was looking forward to coming home and no longer living out of a suitcase, I have to say that the suitcase scenario was actually more comfortable than what I sense right now. The amount of clothing we have, unnecessarily, stands out especially. I can't really put it into words. I keep trying but than I have to erase what I wrote because I just can't express it. Americans simply have too many choices available for things they don't even need. Our shopping carts are about six times bigger than the carts we used in Ukraine. That we keep filling them up is kind of shocking. I don't want to be part of that anymore.

One encouraging factor in this is that I lost over twenty pounds while in Ukraine so giving away those larger sizes has a certain sweetness to it.

Having to get rid of things is not the hard part; it's the realization that we have been mindlessly collecting too much stuff that is daunting. The realization that too much "stuff" clouds our vision of order and peace in a way and if we're not careful, it can happen without us even noticing. Having been away from all our things and then seeing it for the first time in ten weeks, I think I've been given the opportunity to see our home as someone else sees it for the first time. I have a lot to learn about organization and about balancing the enjoyiment of blessings from God without being tied down by what we own and too focused on the material.