One Year Since Meeting Grayson

We had just gotten off the plane in Taipei on November 5, 2012 and we're walking down the hallway as we are about to enter the actual airport and we read a sign that says, "Drug Trafficking Punishable by Death." That was something you didn't see everyday. For the first time, I wondered at that instant, if this journey was going to be worth it?

The night we met Grayson. 

 Right then, I didn't know what the next 3 months or so would be like. I didn't know the hardships that would follow. I didn't know the extent of the waiting. I didn't know how many times our papers would be lost. I didn't know I'd have to go 3 months with only Skyping with Lindsay and no actual hugs. I didn't know anything that would have happened.  I didn't know...a lot.

But I also didn't know the amazingness that would happen as well. I've talked to a lot of people about our adoption. Typically, there is usually a conversation that answers this question: "So, I always hear how hard adoptions are. Was your's really hard?" I give them a quick rundown because most people don't have about an hour or more to devote to listening to our story. "Was it hard?" The easy answer here is always a resounding, "Yes!" I've never met someone who adopted, either internationally or domestically, that said everything was easy. What I don't usually get is the question, "Was what you went through worth it?"

It's hard to put an amount on worth. Dollar bills are a combination of cotton and linen. (That's why you can wash them and they don't deteriorate.) Dollar bills are technically not actually worth much at all. It's what the stamps on the bills represent and signify. $1. $5. $10. $50. $100. $1,000. Whatever. There's really not that much difference to the actual bills. Just something different gets stamped/printed on top of the bill.

When talking about worth, there is no way to determine how much life is worth. You can try to put a dollar amount to it. As in, put a stamp on it, but there is no way to put an amount on the impact of the father-son relationship that I have with Grayson. Honestly, I have already forgotten a lot about those three hard months. Not forgotten completely, that's why we took pictures and videos, but I have forgotten the hardships. Those hardships and despair have been replaced with other things now that so delight me as a father.

Laughing - Grayson's laugh is indeed infectious, especially when he is so tired that he's slap happy.

Hugs - Grayson will give hugs now. Not out of being told, but because he can display his emotions of thankfulness.

Kisses - An open mouth kiss because he just wants to kiss you.

His Height - His head is around my knees. Perfect to hug my leg. Also, perfect to just hang onto when he wants to be close to you.

"Dada" - The way he says "DaDa" just makes my heart melt.

Music - Grayson loves music and dances all the time.

TV - He loves watching "T." Mostly cartoons.

Naps - I love taking naps with him. The way he just wants to curl up in a ball in my arms or on my chest can lead me to tears.

Sleep - Lately, he hasn't been sleeping through the night. When I get up with him, which is not near as much as when Lindsay does, we go and sleep on the couch until he falls back asleep. I don't like these times at first because he's usually screaming, but when I pick him up out of his crib and he immediately stops crying because he knows it's me, it's touching.

Bathtime - He loves baths. I love playing with him. I've been cleaning under his neck and under his armpits by holding both ends of the washrug and pulling back and forth. It tickles him like crazy and it's so fun. Think two lumberjacks with a giant hand saw cutting down a tree. Grayson had took the washrag from me and it looks like he is cleaning under his neck like I was doing and Lindsay walks in. She gives me this "Why are you letting him choke himself to death?!" death stare that I thought was going to penetrate my skin. She's in the process of taking the washcloth away from him. I step in and tell her to wait because he was just cleaning under his neck. (Somethings need to be thought totally through some times. Hey, remember I'm new at this.)

Letters & Numbers - he's starting to pick up on a lot of letter and numbers. He can say and identify them. It's fun teaching him new things.

Words - Grayson is starting to repeat a lot of words that I say. Mostly one syllable words, but he also says some two syllable words as well. Watching a baby's mind think and learn has been really enlightening to me. I can see the process of his learning and how he is relating and making connections to each other.

Personality - I think he's going to be a prankster. I'm thinking he might get that from me, but he's a pretty funny guy. He laughs at a lot of things that are funny on TV and even some dry humor jokes while watching VeggieTales. He likes to tell people, "Hi." in Walmart. It always brings smiles to other people's faces.

Helpful - He likes to help others. He really likes dunking his dirty diapers in the trash. He'll also feed the dogs some food from either out of his hand, or he'll drop it from his high chair. The worst part (or best, determining how you look at it) is that he knows exactly what he is doing. He's getting rid of all the food on his tray so he can say, "All done." quicker. He will share his food occasionally with you as well.

I typically get to spend evenings and Saturday mornings with him. I love this time. I'm usually exhausted from school and then basketball practice, but I always feel like I get a second wind to just play with him.

Amen - Because he's starting to repeat a lot of things, he's picked up on "Amen." I love it.

Mooching - He's the biggest moocher of food I've ever seen. He will get passed from one person to the next if they are sitting/standing closer to what he wants.

Changes - I have seen a lot of things change about me since becoming a dad. I decided not to do as much school stuff on the weekends. Actually, it hasn't been much at all. I decided to not do as much school stuff during the week from home. It seems that every decision I make is influenced by Grayson. I know most people always say how having a child changes everything and I can attest to that, but I didn't think it would be this dramatic. It literally is every decision. The coolest thing about that is that it doesn't bother me at all. I decided to not have very many Saturday practices this winter. I have been a part of Saturday practices for, if you count my HS playing days, 14 years. Everything changes with a little one.

One year ago, I met Grayson. He has changed everything about me. He has taught me about life and what life actually means. After we left the airport, we drove about 1.5-2 more hours to the orphanage in the rain. We arrived in the middle of the night. I was so tired, but anticipation and adrenaline was pushing me onward. We got our luggage and walked up the stairs and entered through Ted's office so as to not disturb the others that were sleeping. We went into our room. Put our bags down and walked down the hall. We then walked down the steps leading to where all the babies were. Grayson was up waiting for us. That one moment when we met him will forever be ingrained into my memory. I can't believe it's been a year. I can't believe he's 16 months old. I am so blessed to have a son like him. He has changed so much about who I am as a person. I am so thankful for those at the orphanage who cared and loved for him. For Ted and Bev and their leadership and love for children and people. For mine and Lindsay's family that does so much for us and him. For all the prayers, support, and donations that were given. Without all of these people, this story would have been so much different. Grayson's story continues to be written. My story as a father continues to be written. Our story as a family continues to be written. I just wonder what the next chapter holds? Whatever it is, I'm hanging on. Lord willing.

Since I left all my drugs at home on our trip and was not punished by death, (hehe) I can resoundingly say that being a dad is everything I imagined and more. Was the start of the journey hard? Yes. Was it worth it? It was, without a doubt, worth it.

- Pictures by Amanda Trebley Photography

Valley's to Mountains - July 31, 2013

Today marks 1 year since we got the midnight call about our precious baby boy.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I remember every little detail.  I remember feeling like we were in the deepest valley we had ever been in and not knowing if we would ever climb out.  I remember rocking Kennedy to sleep and very carefully putting her in the bassinet as not to wake her.  My prayers that night were not the nicest I have to admit and I was bitter and angry as this was the last night she'd be with us and another door would be closing.  I prayed for Kennedy and her safety, family, etc.  I then began to tell God how mad I was at him and asked him what we were suppose to do next?  I literally remember saying, "whatever we are suppose to do - wherever we are suppose to go - We will."  If only he would show us a sign somehow.  But in my own pity, I felt ignored and He was silent.  This was about 11:15pm.  As I walked out of the bedroom the phone rang, which made me even more mad because Kennedy was such a light sleeper and it took hours to get her through her "withdraw symptoms" and to sleep each night.  Matt answered the phone and stood still as shock swept over his face.  My heart sank -- no good usually comes from a phone call at 11:30pm.  I kept asking him who it was, and he kept his shocked demeanor for what seemed like eternity.  He softly spoke, "It's Ted - from Taiwan.  Do we want a baby boy?".  Our eyes opened wide at each other and we knew -- God was speaking.  I whispered yes while trying to soak it all in.  I took the phone as Bev began telling me all about this precious baby we were instantly in love with.  I was writing everything down as fast as I could while trying to understand what had just happened.  I hung up the phone and Matt and I just stared at each other in disbelief.  We hardly slept that night of course and our crazy journey began to bring him home.  The next morning I remember waking up and looking at Matt and saying, " was that a dream?".  Neither of us were completely sure so we ran to the computer and opened our email to find 3 beautiful pics of a baby boy titled, "Grayson David Miller".  We knew it was real - we knew HE was real.

That was my first lesson learned - Even when God is silent, he is still God and his plans will far exceed our own if we will submit completely to him.

I also learned that God has a sense of humor.  The babies room was PINK! Pink clothes, pink toys, pink bedroom.  Definitely wasn't going to work for a boy :)  God knew I would need something to keep my mind going and help the days go quickly as we were waiting to get to him.  So we changed the room and clothes :)

It's funny how we can be in such a different place just 1 year later.  I think sometimes God allows us to experience the valleys so we will trust him to lead us to the mountain tops.

If God is putting adoption on your heart and you just aren't quite sure what do to - consider this "a sign" and take a leap of faith.  It will not always be easy, but it will be worth it.

~Matt, Lindsay, & Grayson Miller

Where has the time gone? -- 6 Months Home!

So I have run into many people lately and all have had the same request......update your blog! :)  After the 3rd person told me that within a weeks time, I decided to "find time" to do just that!

Well, we have been home now for almost 6 months....where has the time gone?  I cannot believe everything Grayson has learned and how much he has grown since we came home.  We are finally phasing into the "this is real" phase and I find myself only "mama crying" a few times a week now :) :) There are many days/nights where we both watch him sleep or sit in his room thinking back to the many years it sat empty and we often wondered what God's plan was.  We would never have guessed the path He wanted us on.  Although the journey to Grayson was longer than most will ever know, we were/are blessed beyond what we could possibly comprehend.  

It's been amazing to see him so curious about everything as he grows and learns. Seems like everyday brings something new for him.  I have tried to create a monthly pic just to keep up with all the exciting things he is doing!  We have had a wonderful time with lots of firsts like: 1st Birthday! - parks - swimming - vacation - four wheelers - berry picking - wiener roasts - golf carts - 4H fair - playing with cousins - catching lightning bugs - family get togethers - and so much more!

We have had the opportunity to share our adoption story with 3 local church's now, which has been an honor.  I mean, how can we not share what God has done for us!  I am so glad we have this blog to look back and see the details of how our story unfolded.  We have also enjoyed sending updates and letters of Grayson to the orphanage and keeping them up-to-date on all he is learning!  Thank goodness for facebook :) yes, they have that in Taiwan.  The new orphanage is still being built and the nannies there often post updated pics of it.  It is HUGE!!! and it looks amazing!  I am so excited for them to have some more space to run the orphanage and provide so many children a place to live and learn about Christ.  We really hope to return to Taiwan and see it someday!  

I have so much more to say, but this will do for now! Enjoy the pics below!

New Found Words - Mothers Day 2013

I have been wanting to write a blog entry about Mother's Day all week, but wasn't sure how I could possibly get the words from my brain to my fingers to express my thoughts on this Mother's Day.  I read this from a post on facebook.  It is truly like someone read every thought and emotion that has crossed my mind in the last few years.............grab a kleenex.  

Dear Mom of an Adopted Child,

I met you in adoption education class. I met you at the agency. I met you at my son’s school. I met you online. I met you on purpose. I met you by accident.

It doesn’t matter. The thing is, I knew you right away. I recognize the fierce determination. The grit. The fight. Because everything about what you have was a decision, and nothing about what you have was easy. You are the kind of woman who Makes.Things.Happen. After all, you made this happen, this family you have.

Maybe you prayed for it. Maybe you had to convince a partner it was the right thing. Maybe you did it alone. Maybe people told you to just be happy with what you had before. Maybe someone told you it simply wasn’t in God’s plans for you to have a child, this child whose hair you now brush lightly from his face. Maybe someone warned you about what happened to their cousin’s neighbor’s friend. Maybe you ignored them.

Maybe you planned for it for years. Maybe an opportunity dropped into your lap. Maybe you depleted your life-savings for it. Maybe it was not your first choice. But maybe it was.

Regardless, I know you. And I see how you hold on so tight. Sometimes too tight. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it?

I know about all those books you read back then. The ones everyone reads about sleep patterns and cloth versus disposable, yes, but the extra ones, too. About dealing with attachment disorders, breast milk banks, babies born addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth. About cognitive delays, language deficiencies. About counseling support services, tax and insurance issues, open adoption pros and cons, legal rights.

I know about the fingerprinting, the background checks, the credit reports, the interviews, the references. I know about the classes, so many classes. I know the frustration of the never-ending paperwork. The hours of going over finances, of having garage sales and bake sales and whatever-it-takes sales to raise money to afford it all.

I know how you never lost sight of what you wanted.

I know about the match call, the soaring of everything inside you to cloud-height, even higher. And then the tucking of that away because, well, these things fall through, you know.

Maybe you told your mother, a few close friends. Maybe you shouted it to the world. Maybe you allowed yourself to decorate a baby’s room, buy a car seat. Maybe you bought a soft blanket, just that one blanket, and held it to your cheek every night.

I know about your home visits. I know about your knuckles, cracked and bleeding, from cleaning every square inch of your home the night before. I know about you burning the coffee cake and trying to fix your mascara before the social worker rang the doorbell.

And I know about the followup visits, when you hadn’t slept in three weeks because the baby had colic. I know how you wanted so badly to show that you had it all together, even though you were back to working more-than-full-time, maybe without maternity leave, without the family and casseroles and welcome-home balloons and plants.

And I’ve seen you in foreign countries, strange lands, staying in dirty hotels, taking weeks away from work, struggling to understand what’s being promised and what’s not. Struggling to offer your love to a little one who is unsettled and afraid. Waiting, wishing, greeting, loving, flying, nesting, coming home.

I’ve seen you down the street at the hospital when a baby was born, trying to figure out where you belong in the scene that’s emerging. I’ve seen your face as you hear a nurse whisper to the birthmother that she doesn’t have to go through with this. I’ve seen you trying so hard to give this birthmother all of your respect and patience and compassion in those moments—while you bite your lip and close your eyes, not knowing if she will change her mind, if this has all been a dream coming to an abrupt end in a sterile environment. Not knowing if this is your time. Not knowing so much.

I’ve seen you look down into a newborn infant’s eyes, wondering if he’s really yours, wondering if you can quiet your mind and good sense long enough to give yourself over completely.

And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. His little fingers curled around yours. His warm heart beating against yours.

I know that bliss. The perfect, guarded, hopeful bliss.

I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves that morning, the judge, the formality, the relief, the joy. The letting out of a breath maybe you didn’t even know you were holding for months. Months.

I’ve seen you meet your child’s birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. I’ve seen you share your child with strangers who have his nose, his smile … people who love him because he’s one of them. I’ve seen you hold him in the evenings after those visits, when he’s shaken and confused and really just wants a stuffed animal and to rest his head on your shoulder.

I’ve seen you worry when your child brings home a family tree project from school. Or a request to bring in photos of him and his dad, so that the class can compare traits that are passed down, like blue eyes or square chins. I know you worry, because you can protect your child from a lot of things — but you can’t protect him from being different in a world so intent on celebrating sameness.

I’ve seen you at the doctor’s office, filling out medical histories, leaving blanks, question marks, hoping the little blanks don’t turn into big problems later on.

I’ve seen you answer all of the tough questions, the questions that have to do with why, and love, and how much, and where, and who, and how come, mama? How come?

I’ve seen you wonder how you’ll react the first time you hear the dreaded, “You’re not my real mom.” And I’ve seen you smile softly in the face of that question, remaining calm and loving, until you lock yourself in the bathroom and muffle your soft cries with the sound of the shower.

I’ve seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being it is the other way around.

But most of all, I want you to know that I’ve seen you look into your child’s eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that’s just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter, and who, if torn from you, would be like losing yourself.

~Kathy Lynn Harris

Where has time gone?.........3 Months Home

So this week will mark the 3 month anniversary of Grayson being home!  I cannot believe it.  I have tried to wrap my mind around it many times this past week.  It's just gone by so fast.  It's been amazing to settle into our "new lives" with him.  Every day has it's hard moments of trying to juggle work, housework, grocery shopping, mommy duties, daddy duties, etc. -- But its a joy.  I am not going to lie, there are some days where we play all day, take walks, and snuggle in our jammies while the house looks like a tornado hit it.  And I am learning to be ok with it :)  Sometimes I feel like video-taping everything he does, calling someone or shouting from my roof (since there are no Taiwan mountains here) that he is the most amazing, awesome, wonderful baby on the planet!!! Even though our lives are "leveling out and getting back to normal", there are still moments in the day where I find myself getting teary-eyed that he is actually ours!  We received his "US Citizenship" paper last week and I cried. Jeez! This mom stuff is crazy emotional!
We continue to embrace every day we have with Grayson and look forward to each and every day with him!
Below are some pics of the past 3 months at home!