Grief / Widowhood Archives - Page 35 of 84

The first time we laid eyes on her, we knew she was special. Katerina had a way of lighting up a room with her huge smile and her pure joy. And…when she met her daddy for the first time…oh the joy, such incredible joy. We didn’t know how Katerina would react to Joel, because many children living in orphanages haven’t had a lot of contact with males (most caregivers are women), but Katerina knew this man was HER daddy, and she loved him immensely, and the feeling was mutual.

Katerina has always been such a special little girl, in many respects. She’s the only girl out of the four we’ve adopted. That, in and of itself, makes her very special. She holds her own with the boys, but she loves to be the girl God has created her to be. She plays with dolls, likes to have her fingernails painted, and loves to wear pretty dresses.

Soon after our adoption of Katerina (and her brothers) was complete, we had them all evaluated at an international adoption clinic and by their local pediatrician. It was clear there was something else going on with Katerina. We learned early on there was a developmental delay (not uncommon coming from orphanage life). But, we were referred to the Fullerton Genetic Center to have her evaluated for Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS). Children coming from the part of the world where these children came from are often exposed to alcohol in the womb, and FAS or any of the Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD) are very strong possibilities for these children.

Upon her genetic testing (which ruled out some other possibilities) and a battery of testing, Katerina was confirmed with FAS. Our hearts broke for our sweet daughter. It wasn’t her fault, but she’ll have to deal with the effects of a choice by another for the rest of her life (as will her new family).

This past December, Katerina was evaluated yet again, and we learned she also has Autism. That somewhat came as a surprise, because many symptoms of FAS are in direct contradiction to Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASD). However, she scored high enough in the other categories that her diagnosis was clear.

Joel and I knew we were in for a lifetime of parenting this little girl who would grow to be a young lady. What would her future look like? Would she be able to learn enough to live independently? Would she ever be able to work a job? So many questions…

This past Friday, I faced the next challenge alone for the first time. Katerina just went through re-evaluation for her IEP (Individualized Education Plan). She was given a large battery of in-depth tests. The results of the all the testing…our baby girl is mentally challenged. Her IQ is very low, and she is now considered “moderately intellectually delayed”. I think we knew it deep down, but I heard it for the first time, and my heart broke again. I had to grieve for my daughter all over again. But this time, I didn’t have her daddy to grieve and share this news with. I truly felt and thought to myself, “How much more Lord? How much more weight can my shoulders take?” I know I won’t feel this way forever, but for now…I feel the darkness is getting heavier and the pit is getting deeper. I’m still praying and waiting for breakthrough and a glimpse of the light breaking through the tunnel.

But, God has great plans for Miss K! I know He does. She is full of compassion and love and seems to know how to comfort people in pain in ways others don’t. I had a bit of a meltdown a week ago that unfortunately happened in front of the kids. The boys kept asking if I was okay and wanted to help with words. But my sweet girl…she walked up to me and started rubbing my back…she didn’t say a word. She just rubbed my back! God used her mightily in that moment to comfort her hurting mama.

He has great plans for my girl! No doubt in my mind. I just want to make sure I listen to His still, small voice to know what role I play in His plans for her. Without Joel to help me make decisions, I’m trusting God to fill the role of “husband to the widow” He’s promised and guide me through some of the hard decisions I might have to make decades from now or even in the next few weeks.

He won’t let me down. His plan is always perfect and always better.

I’ve been working with Katerina on learning some things about herself that I want to make sure she never forgets. She finally knows them, and will repeat them to me when I ask her to tell me her “I am’s”…and, she’ll say…

I am beautiful.

I am special.

I am smart.

I am loved.

Yes you are my precious! You are so, so loved!

Shattered. Fractured. Broken. Three words that accurately describe my family right now.

Just under two months ago, we were doing this thing called life together as a family. We made our mistakes, and we had our fusses, but we were what we dubbed ourselves…a “normal” (albeit blended, non-organic) family.

Daddy and mommy both worked outside the home. We were as healthy as we had been in quite some time. Our Bulgarian children were finally starting to adjust to the beginning of their second year in the US in our family, and our move to Hickory was proving to be a great decision, and the school transitions were taking place extremely well. Granted…we still had stuff in boxes to unpack…but, what was the hurry? This was going to be our forever home, so didn’t that mean we had “forever” to unpack?

Our older children seemed to be thriving between finishing up the last years of high school, working towards college degrees, working hard at jobs God has them in for this season of life, creating families of their own, and maturing into fine young adults.

We preferred to spend our weekday evenings wrestling around on the floor with daddy, watching a cute family movie together, doing homework, getting everything together for the next day, bath/shower time, and reading books before bedtime. We had recently started asking Josiah to read a book before bedtime to his siblings so he good get in some additional reading practice. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was nice, and we were immensely blessed.

Our weekends were full of piling into the minivan, putting a movie in the DVD player (such a wonderful feature!!) and heading out for a day full of errands. Usually we would splurge and eat out for one of our Saturday meals, and the kids loved that.

Sundays mornings were spent visiting the churches in the area, as we narrowed down the selection to where we felt God might be calling us to serve. And…one of my favorite parts of the weekend…Sunday afternoons. We rested. Joel usually fell asleep on the couch with Austyn. Josiah would fall asleep on the other end of the couch while watching a movie. Benjamin and Katerina would typically nap up in their bedrooms, and me? Well…I may or may not take a nap, but I’d rest nonetheless.

Now…life feels like a chaotic, shattered mess. The kids’ emotions are completely out of whack (so are mine, for that matter). Their ability to focus seems gone. Limits are being tested. Erratic behavior is more commonplace. I cry so much that the act of crying is starting to hurt. My heart seems to be bleeding more internally than my aching foot is externally.

Speaking of the foot…it’s healing (I think) but VERY SLOWLY. The bleeding hasn’t completely stopped, so I get to sit in my recliner for the bulk of the day with my foot elevated on pillows. It’s very painful but doesn’t even compare to the pain I feel in my heart from missing my husband.

Discouragement is the story of my days right now. I’m waiting for a breakthrough, because I feel everywhere I turn is defeat and disappointment. When is the breakthrough coming Lord? I’ve seen many miracles already as a result of Joel’s sudden death and Homegoing to Heaven. God is not surprised, and He’s been working deeply in the hearts of many of His children as a result of my precious husband being called Home at such a young age. I continue to pray Joel’s death will not be in vain and will produce tons of fruit and miracle upon miracle (maybe even some we won’t see this side of Heaven). But for now…we hurt…deeply.

I’m ready for some sense of “normal” to return to our lives. I feel I’m living in a state of limbo, because nothing is settled…my foot is still healing, I can’t return to work (due to the stupid foot), money decisions are in limbo (and fear wants to settle there quite often), plans for the future…yep…limbo. All my vacation and time off for the year is gone due to Joel’s death and my foot woes. I’m really trying not to dwell in this pit, because God is also being so generous and gracious to us.

We have been blessed beyond belief by friends, family, and strangers. We’ve received gifts of food, babysitting, money, gift cards, surprise presents in the mail, flowers, more food, projects completed around the home, visits by new friends, and lots of cards in the mail. There have been numerous other blessings too plentiful to name. I’m praying God allows the brightness of the blessings to cast out the shadow and darkness of the discouragement.

As I keep saying over and over and believe with every fiber of my being…God’s plan is ALWAYS better. Always. Knowing that and believing that doesn’t mean the pain of our reality doesn’t hurt. It does give me hope to cling to though, and that hope helps me to take the next step, and then the next…and the next…and the next…

God. Is. Still. Good.