Formula

You know what I just realized? I'm so stupid for not seeing this before. Our baby, Carolina, who I said I wouldn't mention again until we go the referral, has probably had the bad formula in China. Can you pray for her right now? Pray for her to be safe and that her kidneys wouldn't be affected. She is in an orphanage somewhere waiting on us. I hope she's okay.

Out of Gas

Would you believe that Western North Carolina is running out of gas? I heard on the news this morning that Charlotte only had three stations with gas. Sam and I got caught up in the mellay yesterday when I realized I only had 1/8 of a tank left.

I drove all around town yesterday looking for gas and there was none. Big signs were posted everywhere reading, "out of gas." I found an Exxon that the tanker was just leaving. When I pulled in, a man approached my car and told me he was ahead of me and that I was definitely at the end of the line. He said things might not be very cordial. I conceded very quickly and said I would leave if that would make him happy. I did end up getting gas ahead of him, but only because my tank is on the left side and his apparently is on the right.

It's all from Ike. Governor Easley promises this will end soon. We're being told next week may show signs of relief. I read today that Asheville's community college was actually shutting down since there are so many commuters. There are a lot of things being canceled.

I went straight from the Exxon station to the grocery store, where I stocked up on supplies, then I came home. I haven't left since. I don't plan on leaving either. The Exxon station's restriction was 10 gallons per car, so I only have just under 3/4 of a tank left. Bill's car also has 3/4 of a tank, so at least I'll have that in case of an emergency.

We're hunkering down and plan on staying put until mid-week next week, at least. We have plenty of food, but I think Sam is going to go crazy unless the sun comes back out. He was expressing his displeasure at me not allowing him to go outside today.

When smoke from a burner got the smoke alarm up in arms around dinner-time, I had to open all the windows and doors. Sam took the opportunity to tempt himself at the doorway for about 15 minutes before he took the plunge and went outside in the cold rain. I heard his socked-feet splashing on the floor when he came back in a second later. That's how I knew. Kids never think of hiding things like that. He was quickly punished (his pretzels were taken away) and got some nice warm clothes on.

Now he's safely in his warm cozy bed with a thick comforter on him. I'm not far behind.

Poison Control, Round 2

Ever seen this berry growing in your yard? We have. It's right next to the raspberry bushes. And, exactly what you're thinking happened. Sam went right up to them and ate them, thinking they were grapes. He came back to me with purple hands, a purple tongue and a purple face.

Poison Control said they are indeed poisonous and cause intense diarrhea. This website, says vomiting can occur too.

I don't think he ate too many. I ate one too, to see what it was, and it was so bitter I had to spit it out. If he has more than two bouts of diarrhea in the next six hours, we'll call PC back and probably head to the hospital, since dehydration is cause for monitoring his heart.

He sure keeps me on my toes.

Impending Adoption

I know I haven't posted much about our adoption on here. If you've talked to me in person or via email, you know it's on the forefront of my mind all the time. I keep my blogging on the subject to a minimum due to some, er, political reasons. However, be assured that we are eagerly waiting our little Carolina. Whenever we are finally matched with her, I will post tons of pictures and give you lots of details.

Some friends I met via the internet, who live close by, are currently in Vietnam picking up their little girl. Every morning the first thing I do is check her blog to see if they've posted pictures of her and to hear their tale. I saw pictures of her this morning and my eyes just filled up with tears. I am so happy for them and I am so anxious to meet our own little girl.

We spend a lot of time with Sam's friend Elijah. He had the blessing of being adopted from Guatamala by his mommy and daddy, Trish and Brian. We went to their house this morning and I was reminded, again, how blessed they are. They deal with the same struggles as every parent with Elijah and it is obvious he is well-loved by the way they handle it. Trish is an amazing mother. They are really a tight family. I hope that Carolina will feel the same love from us.

I spoke to Sam this morning about Carolina. He can barely say her name (kay-lie-na) and says having a little sister would be "coo." I think he'll be a great big brother.

I haven't started working on her bedroom yet. I think we'll wait until we are finally matched with her before we do anything. It has almost been five years since we first sent in our application to our agency and it just doesn't feel real. But, lots of our friends have completed their adoptions recently and we are constantly reminded that ours is impending. We absolutely can't wait.

A little over five years ago, I bought a stuffed panda bear while we were in Chengdu (where the earthquake hit recently) visiting their panda refuge. It was for our adopted baby - the one we had just started the process for. That little bear was the first and only thing I purchased for the baby I knew we would eventually have. Even after Sam was born, I put the bear away because it was specifically for Carolina, not Sam. It is waiting in our storage unit now and Bill is going to get it next week. I cannot wait to take it with me when we pick her up and see her eyes examine it for the first time. A stuffed panda bear that will likely be five and a half years old by the time she finally holds it - a symbol of the hope we had that God would finally bring us our adopted baby and make our family complete.

This is likely the last time I will post about Carolina until we are finally matched with her. But, for those of you who were wondering, she is still on our minds all the time and we are continuing with our plans to adopt her. We feel that God has called us to become adoptive parents and we know she is in an orphanage or with a foster family right now, waiting to be united with her American family.

If you think of her, pray for her health and safety. Carolina is waiting and so are we.

Pear Pickin'

Did I mention we have a pear tree at our house?

Bill and Sam went out last week and picked a bunch for us. My cousin told us to wrap them in newspaper, put them in the basement and in two weeks, they'll be just ripe enough to eat. Here are some photos from the fun adventure. Sam loves picking apples or pears or raspberries or whatever else he can (my green tomatoes are a commonly picked item too).

Daddy's pointing to a good one.

Going in for the kill.

Got it!

Beaming with pleasure.

Aren't my boys handsome?

Look at the pride in that face.

Here's another one, a bit higher up. I love how you can see through the trees to his big grin.

And another one.

And, in the next photo I can still hear my words ringing,

"DON'T THROW THE PEAR, SAM!"

My favorite.

Sabbath

Sam and I had a great time in church today. It's not highly unusual to enjoy a service, but it is highly unusual for me to be able to pay attention to every word spoken. Sam was on his best behavior and colored or read through most of it.

Before I left for church this morning, I put in a load of cloth diapers. I remember thinking I shouldn't do this on Sunday, but I did it anyway.

Then, lo and behold, our pastor spoke about keeping the Sabbath, among other things. While we were overseas, we used different days of the week as our Sabbath. We almost always took one day every week and rested on it. We didn't meet any of our friends or do any work. We usually stayed home. It sometimes fell on Sundays, but more often than not, it didn't.

Since we've been in America, we've had a very difficult time keeping a day of rest for ourselves. Bill works five days a week, like most of you reading this, and has very limited time on the weekends to get everything done.

This morning, our pastor reminded me that in American culture, Sunday is the day of rest for Christians. Our neighbors watch us on these days and see our behavior. But, more importantly, my body needs a day of rest.

As many mothers out there are aware, it is very difficult to actually "rest" on these days. However, I do not need to do laundry, sweep, mop, wash dishes - all of the things that I used to abstain from on our day of rest. They're unimportant in the scheme of things, which are: First and foremost, obeying God's commandment to keep a day of rest. Secondly, to give my body and mind rest. Thirdly, to be a witness to those around me - showing that I can and will keep the Lord's commandments.

I have really been challenged. Something that used to be so important to me has fallen by the wayside and I am at fault for allowing that to happen. It is a sin. It is a sin because I was disobeying the Lord's commandment. Not only that, but I knew it was wrong - even this morning as I put a load in the washer - but I did it anyway.

I realize there are bigger things going on in the world - even in my own life. But, I am going to take a small step forward with this and obey His commandment.

I often see Sam doing things even though I tell him not to. Or, I ask him to do something and he won't. Do you ever resist what the Lord is telling you? Has He asked you to do something and you are hesitant? I hope today things can change for you.

I'm going to hang out at our home, think about His word in my heart, sing songs to my son and play my guitar for him for the first time in weeks and enjoy the Lord's day. A day that He has given me and a day that He has chosen to open my eyes to. I'm only glad that I responded. Have you?

Maggots. Lots of Maggots.

Please, for goodness' sake, do not read this if you are squeamish. Just skip to another post, when we were having happier times.

I had a gross experience today at the supermarket.

Before I tell you what happened there, here's a rundown of my afternoon:

I had taken the trash can over to the dump around 4pm and emptied it there. It was really heavy and I had to take everything out piece by piece. It had obviously been too long since we emptied it.

Then Sam and I went over to Old Navy, where they were having 20% off if you say BFF at checkout. You're supposed to bring your BFF, but I only had Sam. Oh well. They gave it to me anyway. By the way, Old Navy is at the mall, which is a tiny little place that has a Panera Bread, Belk, JC Penneys and now a TJ Max!

We walked the mall a while and it was nice. Just Sam and me. We visited the bookstore - where he ran from book to book saying "wow" the whole time. He is so cute. He told me it was time to eat, so I took him to Panera Bread and got him a bagel and cream cheese and split my turkey sandwich with him, along with tomato soup. He loved it, especially dipping the apple into cream cheese.

We had long conversations about how much he loves daddy and about all the cool things at the mall, his trip to Tweetsie this morning and, of course, we talked about cream cheese. Plus, the really neat rubber ball he found at Old Navy under one of the displays while having a little tantrum. It's really a cool ball and they said we could keep it.

After supper, we went to the supermarket.

Are you tracking with me yet? Do you know where I'm going with this?

I went in to get milk and mozz cheese. Of course, I got the wrong milk - I just bought milk for me yesterday, but today needed milk for him. I got more milk for me. Duh. Then I went out to the car, all the while having wonderful conversation with my beautiful son.

I pulled up to the back of the car and opened the tailgate. I opened up the black bag I keep in there to put the groceries in and there were maggots everywhere. Honest to goodness maggots.

I threw it on the ground. I'm getting grossed out just now thinking about it. Sam watched as I had to empty all the maggots from the bag while saying yuck the whole time. Then I turned my attention to the car.

I can't say anymore.

I'm getting grossed out thinking about it.

I just said that. I mean it.

ICK.

Needless to say, the trash can had released its thunder on me. I learned my lesson. Don't wait so long to take the trash to the dump next time. Even if it's not full.

This reminds me of a funny story that happened in China. If you have actually read to this point and you feel like they're all over you, you'll want to stop here. It's about to get worse.

One day, I was cooking in my kitchen with a friend. I was happily teaching him to make smashed potatoes. When I leaned down to open the gas line to our burner, I noticed an odd smell. I asked Tim if he smelled it too, and he did. "Smells like rotting flesh," I believe were his exact words.

I looked around the kitchen, but couldn't find anything odd. About a week later, give or take a few days, I was cleaning my kitchen. Sweeping, mopping...general sanitizing. I moved the gas tank a little (it was up to my hip in height) and saw a few maggots.

"Gross," I thought. So, I swept them up and went on my merry way.

Later, I recounted the story to Bill. To which he replied, "Teesa, if there are maggots, there's rotting flesh." What? No way. Surely there could be maggots without rotting flesh.

I should go back a little bit and give you some back-story. Our kitchen at the end of our dorm hallway. It was very common to walk into the kitchen, flip on the light and see a rat running at you. Very common. Our wonderful American goodies that we had in our cabinets (like chocolate chips and various mixes) were often eaten by these horrid rats. To which we responded, like any normal person, by placing rat poison everywhere.

Back to my story. Are you still with me on this one too? Do you know where I'm going?

Bill walked me into the kitchen and pulled the gas tank out from the wall. There, lying on the floor was...you know exactly what it was. What's your imagination telling you? Do you think it was a dead rat? Well, you're wrong. It wasn't a rat. I guess "technically" it was a rat, but only the sad, dried remnants of what used to be a rat. The flesh had been eaten by maggots.

All that was left was some fur, bones and a horrible tail. Oh, that tail still haunts me. I can still seei it showing from around the tank.

And, do you know how my wonderful husband responded? Did he clean it up and never make me see it again? No.

My brilliant husband did something that only he would have the guts to do. He made me clean it up. He knew that I was going to face my more dead rats while I lived in China, and some that he wouldn't be around for. Anybody have a husband make them do this with spiders? I envy you.

He put it on a dustpan and handed the dustpan to me. He told me, in all seriousness, to take it up to the roof and throw it off the building into the trash pile at the corner (where all of the rats were no doubt procreating and surviving off of the wonderful remnants of other people's garbage).

I cried. I pleaded. I begged. "Please don't make me do this." He calmly explained that I needed to do this while he was there to stand by me, in case he wasn't the next time. He loved me and wanted me to be okay without him. I think I remember him even asking me to do this and I actually agreed.

I was so mad. I took the rat up to the roof, hands shaking all the while, and threw it over the side into the trash pile that was almost half a story high.

And you know what? I survived. And, I learned a valuable lesson that day. Actually, two lessons.

Number 1: If there are maggots, there is rotting flesh somewhere. Look for it and be thorough.
Number 2: Let Bill find the dead rat first.

If you made it to the end, I'm proud of you. Now, go take a shower.

Check It Again

I deleted this post yesterday, because the owner of the blog went private. But, she's had a change of heart and since many of you are praying for her, here is her site. Please continue to lift up this little girl, who is struggling, along with her future family.

Pandora's Box

I think we may have opened a door we didn't realize was going to unleash so much fun. This is the scene at our house now that we're allowing Sam to go down the stairs forward-facing.

Cardiology Appointment

Sam and I kidnapped a friend and drove out to Greensboro today for his cardiology visit. It took us about two hours to get there, and it misted or rained the entire way.


Dr. Buck was his usual wonderful self. Of course, I brag on him because he is very modest, yet exceedingly intelligent and a very gentle person. Sam loves him too. He kept saying, "Bucky Buck today?" this morning before we left.


I realized that I don't have any photos of Dr. Buck, so I grabbed my camera as I was leaving this morning. I thought I'd give you a run down of a typical appointment. It's a bit boring, but Here are some photographs to help you enjoy it more.



When we first get there, the nurse comes out to get us and takes us back to get weighed, measured and a blood pressure check. Sam was 24.8 pounds (with a wet diaper), which I was thrilled about since he was down to 23 at his pedi's office three weeks ago. He is about 32 inches tall (if I remember correctly) and his blood pressure was perfect.


Then, we go into a room where Sam gets these cold and gooey stickers put all over him for an ECG. Two on his legs, some on his shoulders and some on his chest. He usually reacts pretty quickly to the coldness of them, but was preoccupied with the crayons I had given him to be too upset. He is an odd creature. Sam always gets very still when they do anything on his chest. I wonder why.


Next, we wait for Dr. Buck to come in. Just like most doctor's appointments. During this time, I usually try to get all the gooey stuff off of his body. You can see the leads we took off on the chair behind him. We had so much gooey stuff everywhere today - it just wouldn't come off. That's when Dr. Buck arrived to save the day.

He helped us out with some alcohol wipes and sacrificed his own fingers to pull the gook off of Sam's chest. It was a mess. Here is Dr. Buck with Sam - you can see how comfy Sam is in his arms. I'd like to say that Dr. Buck has a special place in his heart for Sam too.

Next, we hold a magnetic device connected to a laptop of sorts up to Sam's defibrillator. It gives Dr. Buck all of the information about what has happened since our last "interrogation" and tells us whether or not he has had any "events." Sam has not.

His pacemaker was used 9% of the time, which is an acceptable amount. All that really means is that his heart rate went below 60 beats per minute 9% of the time since our last visit. Probably while he was sleeping. It's apparently more common in Brugada patients to have episodes or "events" while they are sleeping, which is why Dr. Buck set the pacemaker to work below 60 bpm.

Dr. Buck also tested the sensitivity of the device. He told me that it didn't start "over-sensing" until he programmed it to four times the sensitivity level. That's great news - it means that we have it set to a fine sensitivity level and are safe from it over-sensing the way it did when it was first implanted a year ago (please see August 2008 for more details on our story).

But, here's the big news of the day. I asked Dr. Buck about all the bruises Sam gets around his defibrillator on his belly. If you look at the above photo, you can tell how large it still is in his tiny body. It really sticks out on one corner.

Dr. Buck surprised me by telling me we shouldn't let Sam crawl down the stairs backwards or slide down the slide on his belly. Or any of the numerous other activities he does on his belly. The real issue is a hard surface pressing against it and breaking one of the leads. That could be a potentially dangerous situation.

Oh, and eventually we'll have to prevent him from going down the Tower of Terror and other similar rides, but I think we're okay for now.

In the mean time, we're still keeping him out of the church nursery and other daycare-type facilities, where he would be exposed to germs. But, we're free to allow him to interact with other children as much as possible, in order for him to develop properly. Because he has a condition that is exacerbated by fever, it is important for him to not be put in a "petri dish" (as Bill and I call nurseries) for now.

On a final note, I wanted to show you a picture of our friend Athalia today at Target. She came with us, even though she's been deathly ill with her pregnancy. Her child is causing her some grief with constant nausea, and I was so grateful that she agreed to come anyway. I guess I hadn't really thought it through, so thank goodness she didn't vomit at all during our trip. I had a great time with her. Without further adieu, I give you: Athalia at Target.

I remember feeling like this.

Potty Training

Thought I'd add this photo for your viewing enjoyment.

Tomato Soup and Other News

A couple night ago a friend of ours from Raleigh showed up at our doorstep. We were thrilled to see her and gave her tons of apples and fresh tomatoes (which are just starting to ripen) from our property. She was gracious enough to take us to the local Mexican restaurant, which Sam loves afterwards. It is always wonderful to see old friends and hear all the news from Raleigh.

Afterwards, we followed Bill and Sam over to Big Lots. While I was leaving Big Lots, I saw our old neighbor from here in town. I asked him how the old neighborhood is doing (remember, I absolutely hated it there). This also happened to be the neighbor who smoked pot a lot.

He said that things went downhill fast after we left. Some of the neighbors lost one of their dogs in a very inhumane way, and it was left for them on their doorstep. I'll save the gory details. Then, one of their cars was broken into and they were robbed, his nephew was mugged on our old street and finally, the neighbor who lived just next to us had a falling out with her boyfriend. He was apparently so angry he slashed all of her tires and smashed in her windshield. My old neighbor said, "I don't know why it went to h*ll in a hand basket after you left." To which I responded, "we prayed a lot while we were there." And that's the truth. Thank God for protecting our family. Thank God for delivering us from that place. And thank God for giving us that home to live in while we needed it, one that we were safe in for that time.

I was really burdened by everything he said to me. I asked Bill, more than once, how a man could be so cruel to the mother of his own child by destroying her car. I asked him why someone would do that to an animal - a little dog who once jumped into my own car because he was so friendly. I asked Bill why all of this happened. His response to me was the same each time: Because people are worldly and full of sin. They don't have hope and they don't have Jesus.

I only hope that we were a light in that neighborhood while we lived there. I think we were, since our neighbor clearly indicated that after we left things got very dark.

On aonther note: some good news. Tomorrow officially marks three months since Sam's last cardiology appointment. We've NEVER actually made it to a three-month appointment before being interupted by hospital visits and other illnesses.

We're heading to Greensboro and we've invited a friend to tag along, so it shouldn't be too boring of a trip for me this time. Unfortunately, I have a cold. I believe I caught it from Sam, who has been coughing a little and sneezing some. He hasn't had a fever that I know of. I am really hopeful that his immune system kicked this one in the bud before it got too bad. As for me, well, I could complain but I won't. I just want to feel better.

Sam's second birthday party is coming up and I plan on getting lots of little goodies while we're in the big city. We're having a train theme, since he's crazy about trains. I bought a little engineer cap at Tweetsie last week and a train whistle. My parents and we have gone in together to buy him a train table and we've asked everyone coming to bring a train for him. I think he's going to have a blast. I just need to practice on his cake a few times before we celebrate for real. If you want to come and haven't gotten an invitation, let me know! We're gonna have a great time.

Oh, and here's a recipe for old fashioned tomato soup that I love!

1 large can crushed tomatoes or 2 cups fresh
1/2 t baking soda
2 cups milk
2 T butter
1 t salt
1/2 t pepper
Place tomatoes in a large saucepan. If using fresh tomatoes, simmer until tender. If canned, bring to a boil. Add soda. In another pan, scald milk. Add milk to tomatoes and stir. Add butter, salt and pepper, stirring well. Serve immediately. Eat with half of a grilled cheese sandwich - yummy!

I'm a Little Late...

Okay, so I'm a few months late on this, but I still think this is hysterical. I heard a short on NPR today about a group called Improv Everywhere. They do these little pranks all over and pretend like nothing has happened afterwards. I sifted through a bunch of their pranks and thought this one was the funniest one. I was laughing so hard! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Being a former New Yorker, I thought people's reactions were classic! I wonder how this would go down here in the South?

Ahh, the Mountains

I'm sorry I don't have any pictures to post of what happened this weekend, but it was truly wonderful. Bill and I took Sam on the longest hike of his life - five miles through very diverse terrain. We started in the swamp, went through forest, hiked through huge rocks, next to a river we could have gone swimming in (it was too cool though) and finally ended up in a cow pasture - all up and down a mountain.

Sam loved walking all over the hardened cow pies. He kept saying, "cow pooty!" over and over. He really had us laughing. It took us almost three hours to hike the five miles, so it wasn't too bad. I was a little unprepared, food-wise, but we managed. I guess I didn't realize it would take so long. I'll be prepared for the next trip though. I'll also make sure to bring my camera.

That evening we had our new pastor and his wife over for a meal. They have a lot to teach us about mountain living. They're both from Western North Carolina, so they're "indigenous" to this region. We really are loving getting to know them and our new church.

On Sunday, after church, we went over to some new friend's house for lunch. They have a daughter about Sam's age. Sam didn't play with her as much as he played with her older sister though. We had a fantastic time and ate some really delicious food. It's wonderful getting to know so many new people.

Yesterday morning, Sam, Trish, Elijah and I went down to the Greenway to meet some other new friends. All of us have kids within six months of each other. It's the perfect playgroup. I think it'll be exciting when they're all in one home over the winter, playing and learning together. They took over the playground, after our walk on the Greenway. We looked like a parade coming down the street - four strollers and two bicycles!

Sam's Identity

I am having a bittersweet moment right now. This morning, Sam played with a little girl named Melia (pronounced Ma-Lee-uh). They had a fantastic time together and played really well.

I'll boast about my child for just a second here. You can skip this paragraph if you want. Sam is extremely generous. I am positive it's not because of anything Bill or I have done with him, but he always wants to share his toys and will almost always immediately give a toy to another child if I ask him to. I have to be careful about this though, because sometimes he just needs to hold on to it and play with it for himself, instead of always giving everything away. He really loves being with other children. Older, younger, it doesn't matter. He likes showing off his toys, as every child does, and pulls out toys he's not even interested in when new folks arrive.

Well, our playdate with Melia went really well this morning. She's about six months older than Sam and about two inches taller. She's a beautiful toe-headed little girl, who's curious and articulate and fun to interact with (for me and Sam). She also liked the omelet I made, so I was sold.

Melia is a heart baby too. That's where the title of this post, "Sam's Identity" comes into play. Sam has shown off his belly to anyone we ask him to and to a few we haven't asked him to. This morning, I asked him to show his belly to Melia and her face lit up. She has a "zipper" too. She showed hers to Sam and he glanced at first, then realized something was different. He inspected her belly and then ran his finger along her scar, ending at her JP tube scar. His finger felt it and he said, "ohhhh." Unfortunately, Sam was in a onsie, so I decided to undo it to give him a little more flexibility in sharing his own scar.

He lifted up his shirt, looked at his belly then at Melia. He said, "zipper too" as he lifted her shirt up again.

What a moment. My eyes are filled with tears right now.

Sam really has a heart buddy. Someone who shares the same perfect whitening of her skin as he has, in a long line down her chest. My mind jumped to years from now as they will always have this scar to share between them, and they will each know the unfortunate difficulties that come with it. He's not alone. Neither are we, as the parents.

What a blessing, but how sad. Sam just realized that he's got something that many of us don't. He's got a zipper. But, fortunately for us, Melia has a zipper too. And they found each other.

Out and About with 奶奶

I believe that my last post finishes our story for now. I don't intend to revisit it any time soon, as it took a lot out of me emotionally to write it. I hope you enjoyed reading it, or at least got something out of it (since I'm sure some of you wept through most of it) that will be meaningful in your own lives. I'm done.

On another note...

Bill's mother came up from Columbia, SC for Labor Day weekend. We had a great time and took her all over the High Country.

Sam calls her 奶奶, which is pronounced "Nai Nai." It means paternal grandmother in Mandarin. I love hearing him say it.

We went down to the river to play one of the days she was here. We met Elijah and his mommy and daddy (Trish and Brian) down in Todd and spent the afternoon with them. Sam had a blast picking up river rocks and throwing them back into the river with Elijah. Brian would find the biggest ones he thought Sam and Elijah could hold and hand them over.

Apparently I had something important to say. Elijah looks very intent on hearing me. Brian seems to be investigating these larvae that he kept finding on the rocks to some sort of flying insect that lives on the river. I think they were too small for the boys to see them though.

Picking out just the right rocks.

I'm not positive, but it sort of looks like they're going to throw the rocks at the dogs. That never happened. There were lots of folks out with the dogs, tubes and canoes having fun.

"Kabloosh!"

Everyone's got a rock to show someone else, including Nai Nai.

Three generations on a log.

We also had a chance to go trout fishing again. We caught four for our dinner and re-created the last experience we had with my parents and cousins. Bill smoked them with our own apple wood and I put some sea salt, fresh basil leaves, lemon juice and olive oil on them. They were very tasty.

Here we are fishing.

Nai Nai caught a fish, so Sam needed to help get it in the net.

We actually started the day at the Farmer's Market and went from there to Daniel Boone Gardens. Here Sam is at the wishing well with his Nai Nai - throwing rocks, of course!


We also saw some flowers at the garden.


On Labor Day morning, we found these doves roosting in our driveway. They don't seem to be afraid of us. Sam got really close, but he was too timid to reach out and touch it.

Wrapping the Story Up

I have had a hard time finishing this story, because it is such an ongoing struggle in our lives. But, I wanted to give you a different perspective on what happened while all of the medical issues were going on.



So, here goes.


Bill, Sam and I came back to America on April 1, 2006. We had lived overseas for a total of seven years and Sam was born in Hong Kong on October 2, 2006. I had a very difficult pregnancy, due to an intra-uterine infection and we thought I might have to deliver him in East Asia (yet another story for another day!). God saw fit to keep Sam inside of me until it was just about his due date, after three months on bed rest.

We came back to the States to do public relations for our company for about nine months. The plan was to go back to East Asia in January 2007. We left everything set up for our return - our apartment and items were all waiting for us. Sam was only six months old when we came home and had never been sick a day in his life. Everything was progressing towards us returning overseas until his medical issues struck.

When Sam had his ICD implanted, we spoke at length with his cardiologist and the Medtronics representative about returning to East Asia. The Medtronics rep in Chapel Hill spoke with the Medtronics rep in East Asia as well, and he learned that there are many Medtronics reps throughout East Asiawho would be equipped to handle Sam's ICD. However, the biggest problem would be in finding a pediatric cardiologist who specialized in rhythm. At the time of Sam's surgery, we knew we wouldn't be able to return to Kunming, but that we would have to live in a larger city. We never felt the Lord close the door on us returning, but we saw it getting narrower. We delayed our return to East Asia until March 2007, so Sam could heal and we could monitor him for a time.

We were okay with this decision, if not a little concerned about Sam's future overseas. I remember having long conversations with Bill about returning overseas and wondering if it would really happen. One night, while laying in bed, I told Bill that I thought Sam's defibrillator was going to fire before we returned. Dr. Buck had told us it was likely it would never fire, but instead be a "safety net" in case something happened down-the-road.

I really struggled with returning too. My heart wanted to be there, but Sam's situation made me unsettled. Bill was still the head of our home and he was still carefully moving forward, so I stood beside him in the decision. We were both wondering how the logistics of taking Sam overseas would be.

Then one night, within a week of our conversation, Sam got a fever. It was a high one, and when we went in to wake him up for his medication, it raised to about 103F. We gave him his Motrin dose and I took him to my bedroom to feed him. That's when he started retching. I ran to the bathroom so it would be easier to clean up and, there by the dim light of a nightlight, I saw his entire body jolt from his heart outwards. I screamed to Bill that his defib had fired and we needed to call 911. Sam was screaming bloody murder by then.

That was the first time it had shocked him since we returned home from it being implanted. We were hospitalized for about a week, until they could get his fever down. I believe it may have shocked him again in the hospital, but my memory is fuzzy. You can check out in our blog archives somewhere in the late November to December months.

Dr. Buck was still encouraging us to move forward with going back overseas. He was tentative, but felt confident that this was an isolated event and we would be okay. Then Sam fell ill again and had another high fever. This time, his defib shocked him multiple times. We had to call 911 again and spent another week in the hospital.

We were still moving forward with our intent to return to East Asia, mostly because we didn't have any road-blocks in our way, but also because we didn't really feel that God really wanted us to stay in the States yet. I wonder on this side of it if it was because He wanted us to come to a point where we would totally trust Him with our son's life. I can remember begging Him not to take Sam and really understanding more about His sacrifice of His only Son. Those were hard nights of weeping and begging and understanding and reading His Word and weeping some more. Bill and I were without words on many of those nights, but we both understood each other's feelings.

We pressed on.

Then, I was cooking lunch for our neighbors in the kitchen and Sam had just gotten up from a nap. He was walking towards the kitchen and Bill was behind him when he fell down on his bottom. He started crying and I, of course, jumped from my position at the sink and asked Bill frantically if everything was alright. Bill was calm and said he thought so, picked Sam up and placed him back on his feet. He started to take another step when he was visibly shocked by his defib. Bill told me to call 911 and I was hysterical again. I called 911 and Sam was shocked multiple times in our home - his fever having risen to over 102F. Obviously, by now we realized the pattern was that every time he has a fever over 102F, his heart goes into an arrhythmia and his defib must shock him out of it. Sometimes after his heart is "reset" by the jolt of electricity, his heart starts beating fast again (I'm talking over 300 beats per minute) and it must shock him again. We also learned that Sam fell on his bottom because his heart was going into an arrhythmia, but it healed itself. He must have gotten light-headed when it started beating so quickly. The ICD was charging, but aborted before it shocked him.

Our friend David was one of the firemen on call that day. I didn't even recognize him in my haze of fear for my son. But, I had learned by that point not to be hysterical when they arrived, or they would remove me from the situation and I didn't want that. So, I was going through the motions as best I could.

We had to tell the EMTs the situation over and over because it is so unusual for a child of one year to have a defibrillator. During that ride to the hospital, I recall the EMT calling the hospital to tell them we were coming. I heard the woman respond and say, "Sorry? Did you say you have a one year-old with a defibrillator? That's not right, is it?" It was at that point that I had flash-forwards of hearing the conversation in Chinese and it not making sense to anybody. We were all speaking English that day, but people didn't understand. I couldn't imagine doing it in Chinese and it being any better.

When Dr. Buck arrived at the hospital, one of the first things we talked about, after Sam was stabilized, was returning overseas. His face looked grave as he told us he didn't believe we should return with Sam for at least another year. It was obvious that Sam was prone to fevers when he got sick, even without symptoms, and we couldn't risk it.

We were crushed, but I think we both knew this was going to happen. Our lives, ever since we'd been married, were overseas. Our work was overseas. Our friends were overseas. Our home was overseas. You name it...

We immediately started talking about what kind of job we would need to get. What were we qualified for? Where would we live? How would we be able to afford a whole new home - new furnishings, clothes, blankets, kitchen supplies, everything? We hadn't even brought enough clothes back to the States with us. The logistics overwhelmed us. My overseas friend's faces were brought back to my mind over and over. What were going to do?

We had to take it one day at a time and first announce our leave of absence from our company. Then, put the word out that we needed a job. Our friends in America were so helpful to us. We prayed about where to go and what to do. The biggest priority, of course, was keeping Sam close to a good medical facility. Even in America that's an issue.

Eventually, after a few months of consideration and prayer, Bill took his job with Samaritan's Purse. One of our best friends, who we met overseas, wanted Bill to come work with him and it was the perfect position. Bill is now the Regional Manager for South and East Asia at Operation Christmas Child.

Getting to that point was a hard road. Taking out all of the medical issues and just dealing with making a life-changing decision that would affect our lives in such a huge way was enormous and an impossible load to carry on our own. Bill and I were so stressed out with the situation, there were days that we could barely talk to each other. God has completely healed our hearts now and we are more united than we ever were before we walked this difficult road together. Bill is an amazing man, and I don't envy the load he had to bear in making such large decisions for our family. I believe God has worked so mightily in his life and I have seen him grow into someone I hope my son can emulate: a real child of God.

So, here we are. Still in North Carolina, one of the most beautiful places on earth. A little remote as far as medical facilities are concerned, but close enough. God has given us a wonderful pediatrician here, but there are no pediatric cardiologists, let alone one who specializes in rhythm. We still see Dr. Buck, but Sam and I drive to Greensboro for those meetings now.

We were hospitalized about two weeks after moving here in early April, and ended up down in Charlotte, but God redeemed us from that illness as well.

I fear this winter will be hard for our family. We understand from many doctors that children will have high fevers until they are about three years-old. Sam is approaching his second birthday and we are anticipating many more illnesses this winter. I have to balance my fear of him getting sick with my knowledge that he must interact with other children to be emotionally healthy. It's a struggle sometimes, but I think I'm doing alright.

I want you to walk away from reading this understanding that Sam is extremely important to us. Our choice to go back overseas was soley due to our prayerful discoveries with the Lord and wise counsel from doctors.

As I have said before, God was in control of this situation.

Our "stuff" in East Asia, our friends, our lives that were there will wait. We have tried to be obedient in our Walk and do what is best for our whole family. It is better to live in obedience than disobedience, Bill always says. Boy is he right.

God is good.

Next drama: the adoption of our little girl. When will she get here??? I guess we'll learn more about that story as it unfolds right before our eyes.

And as for our "belongings?" Well, my parents moved overseas for a few years and have graciously allowed us to borrow everything of theirs. My sister-in-law gave me some of her winter clothes and we have been able to collect the rest from precious folks who love us. Bill is heading back to East Asia soon and will pick up a few things like our photos and other items, so we won't have to buy everything anew. So you see, it worked out perfectly. We didn't need to spend our time worrying about logistics after all.

Babyfit.com

I think I have mentioned before that I belong to an online group called babyfit.com. Apparently there was a story on the Today show this morning about it - an amazing situation. I just want to say again how much I love my girls from babyfit. I've enjoyed getting to know each of them and am grateful for all the support they have shown our family and Sam, in particular.

Here's the link. And the cool part is that the woman whose baby was saved is from Riverview, Florida - where Bill grew up!

Relief

I think I've put you through enough stress this week in my recounting of our story. You guys need a break!

I thought I'd give you a little glimpse of Sam saying the alphabet at his snacktime today. The bandana on his head was his idea.



See? He's pretty normal, depsite his past and present struggles.

Are You Ready?

Get yourself a cup of coffee, a box of tissues and settle in. I'm about to tell you what happened next...

As we were approaching Sam's hospital room, we saw them wheeling him in on a gurney. He was so tiny compared to the enormous bed. He was coming out of his drug-induced sleep and immediately recognized me. I walked as quickly as I could to him, my head pounding with every step.

They hooked him up to the heart monitor in the room and carefully moved him to his bed. That's when it happened. We were barely in the room.

Bam - he was obviously shocked by his new defibrillator, his body went rigid for a second. He immediately began crying this deep, hoarse, gut-wrenching cry. We didn't know what was happening. One of the nurses said it was because he had gotten too excited and his heart was beating too quickly.

Take yourself out of the picture for a moment - even I had the brains to understand that if they had set the settings so low he couldn't even get excited, we were in for a lot of hard days ahead. That would mean that if he cried, even for a couple minutes, he would get shocked. Really?? What moronic doctor would be okay with that? Certainly not Dr. Buck.

Back in the room, Sam is hysterical and we were upset too. All I could do was to lean my head over his body so he could wrap his hands and arms in my hair for security. I heard a nurse distantly say that I might feel a shock too. Bam, another shock, only Sam felt it. Sam started screaming harder now. Bam, another one. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

One of the nurses told Bill this was "nothing to freak out over." I believe his exact words to her were, "I beg to differ with you, this is EXACTLY something to freak out over." Bill was demanding our doctor over and over. I had a brief moment to look up from the death grip Sam had on my neck and saw my mother-in-law and my twin brother standing with white faces, completely helpless, on the other side of the glass. I remember my sister-in-law's parents running down the hall to the room. Bam, hit again. Sam was screaming in my ear. Bam. Bam.

The heart monitor showed his heart rate at 125 beats per minute. I knew from what Dr. Buck told me that his defibrillator was set to go off at 230 beats. Why was it constantly shocking him?

Here is my 11 month-old son, completely helpless, his chest recently cut open, bandages all over him, and he is screaming and aching all over - because of me. That was all I could think. He lived a happy life before this moment. Maybe the defibrillator was the wrong choice. Maybe he would have been better off without it. Why did I do this to him? Did we hear the Lord wrong when we prayed about it and decided, so quickly, to implant a defibrillator in his tiny body?

Twenty four minutes passed. He was shocked 22 times. Twenty two. Did you read that? Twenty two. He barely weighed 18 pounds. My eleven month-old child was struck twenty two times with electricity directly to his tiny heart.

Dr. Buck came running into the room with something that looked like a hard-shelled briefcase. Little did we know that that briefcase would become an extremely familiar part of our lives.

He opened it up and it was more like a laptop. It had a computer mouse-looking object with a cord attaching it to the machine. He held it over Sam's belly, where the defibrillator had been implanted, and turned the device off. The device can be completely controlled by this computer, without having to go back into his body. I was relieved. The adrenaline started to wear off and my head was pounding. I was shaking all over and could barely stand up. I collapsed on the couch behind me and Bill took over comforting Sam.

I'm sure Bill felt mixed emotions during this time. He wasn't the one hugging Sam while he was being shocked, I was. It was my choice and I don't think any mother reading this would have made a different decision. But, I physically wouldn't let Bill get near him, because I needed to be the one to hold him and comfort him. There were moments that I would reach my hand out and we would hold hands. But, something inside of me took over - some sort of innate mothering instinct. Bill could only be the logical one, the one to demand a doctor, the one to lay his hand on my back, the stable one. It killed him that he couldn't hold Sam because I wouldn't let him. I wouldn't let anyone. It took a toll on us and we argued about it a lot in the days after.

It is extremely important to talk through these things with your spouse before a trying time occurs. There needs to be a game plan, a method to your madness. So that no matter how difficult the situation, you present a united front. We know that now.

Sam somehow fell asleep. He was on so much morphine, they told us he'd never remember what happened. That didn't help us sleep better though. Dr. Buck told us he'd been shocked 22 times in 24 minutes. After hours of sifting through the strips and trying to figure out what happened, we still had no answers.

I looked Dr. Buck in the eyes and asked him if we had made a mistake. I can still remember the look of surprise he had on his face. He said in all certainty that Sam would die without it. That was enough for me.

He left the monitoring part of the device on, but turned the "therapy" part off. It wouldn't shock him again. He gave us a blue, three inch-in-diameter, magnetic doughnut. He left two with the nurses as well. If something happened, we were instructed to hold the doughnut over Sam's belly and it would suspend the therapies. But, Dr. Buck said, nothing would happen because he turned the therapy side off.

Meanwhile, the infectious disease doctor of UNC hospitals got wind that I had viral meningitis and was in the pediatric step-down unit of the hospital. We were told I might be asked to leave. I was about to open my mouth and say something I'd regret, when Bill said we'd cooperate fully with the hospital. When I told the doctor, via the telephone, that my ID doctor at Rex said I wasn't contagious and which is why he released me, she said she knew him and completely trusted his opinion. She called him and verified my story and I wasn't asked to leave. Praise God. A small victory.

Sam was in and out of consciousness, his small face starting to swell from the surgery on his tiny body. I was told I could nurse him as soon as he wanted, and at first, I sat in a chair and pulled him down with me. Eventually, I learned that I could crawl up into his crib and lay down to nurse him. I slept there with him for most of the days following, keeping him as physically close to me as I could.

Within hours of the surgery, he had his first bowel movement. You may think it's odd that I post this, but that is a huge fete for anyone, let alone a small child. It normally takes days after a surgery. Within 24 hours, he had his second.

Keep in mind, again, that he has an adult-sized defibrillator in him. Adults get them implanted in their upper right or left chest, next to the shoulder. Sam didn't have any space in his body that would contain a hockey-sized device, and therefore it went into his belly. They had to move intestines to get it to fit. This is yet another reason why him having bowel movements was a huge event.

Twenty four hours after the surgery, he was sitting up. Forty eight hours later, he was pulling himself up using the crib bars. Within three days, he was using the crib bars to walk - something he had never done before in his life. One of the doctors making rounds said in his 30-plus years of being a doctor, he had never seen anyone recover so quickly. I know that nursing him helped. That combined with many many prayers and Sam didn't stand a chance - he was going to recover quickly.

Every day we would get a visit or two from Dr. Buck and Dr. Stewart. Dr. Buck had sent Sam's ECG strips to the Medtronics home plant in Minnesota. Every available worker was sifting through algorithms trying to decipher what went wrong.

Dr. Buck was extremely protective of our family. If the cafeteria forgot to bring us food, he would call them or tell the nurses on our behalf. He wanted us to leave the room and get brief breaks from our stressful situation.

After a couple days we learned his device had been double-counting his heartbeats. When it was really 125 beats per minute, the defib read 250bpm. It's not meant for an infant's body and just isn't equipped to handle the odd electricity that Sam's heart was producing, especially after surgery. We monitored how many more times it would have shocked him, had the therapy side been turned on, and it was at least 12 more times.

After several days, his body began to heal and the defib began to settle in to normal functions. After about five days, Dr. Buck said he wanted to turn it back on, to see what would happen. I said no. Bill agreed. We waited for another 24 hours. Then the day arrived - we turned the therapy side back on.

Nothing happened. We had the "magic" doughnut with us at all times. We were allowed to take Sam on little wagon rides around the floor - but always carried our magic doughnut. Adam and Kendall took Sam for a spin without us one time. It was about 10 minutes, but it was agony to be away from him. At the same time, it was the greatest relief I had had in two weeks.

Nothing happened.

The day finally came that we were released from the hospital. I was fifteen pounds lighter (at 114lbs), Bill was beaten down, but Sam's face wasn't as swollen. I was so scared. Bill was scared too. We both trust the Lord to carry us through this situation. In fact, I haven't mentioned how much prayer went into this time, but every single minute of every single day someone was praying for him. For us.

If you've been reading our blog for a while, you know the verses that we found most comforting come from Isaiah 43. "As you pass through the water, I will be with you. And the winds and the waves will not overcome you. Do not fear, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name and you are Mine." We sang this song to Sam every day all day. We found solace in Him - comforted by the fact that He is the One who knitted Sam in my womb and created him with this heart condition. He, alone, knows the future - and how can we not trust Him, if He is the Author and Perfector of our faith?

I honestly don't know how people make it through these sorts of situations without the Lord. It has to be that much harder.

Our instructions were these: take him home, tend to his wound, carry the doughnut with him at all times, treat him normally, if his defib shocks him, call 911. That was it. No instruction manual or anything.

I know there are at least two mothers reading this who have children with heart conditions, one with a pacemaker, one soon to have a pacemaker. You two understand our situation better than anyone else. I find comfort in that. We are not alone.

We found out later that over 1000 people were praying for Sam, around the world. Wow.

In recounting this story, I haven't cried once...until today. In the past, every time I have sat down to write it down, I couldn't because I was crying too hard. Just a few weeks ago my mother asked me to tell her what really happened - what did Sam look like when he was having the seizure? what was it like in the hospital?, etc - I couldn't tell her.

I believe that I have reached a point now, though it is still tender, that I can see how beneficial it is for me to tell this story. Planting those irises on Friday has really affected me. As I told you before, they sat in a plastic bucket and had no nourishment, yet God allowed them to grow and even bloom. We spent the winter wondering what God had in store for our future, reading our Bibles daily and talking to wise counsel. We had nourishment from Him and we have bloomed where we've been planted. Though it was a hard winter, I'm glad we had the nourishment. If we hadn't, it would have been so much harder, but I'm certain He would have allowed us to bloom even still.

I'll tell you a little more in a couple days, so you can understand the whole picture of what happened. For now, wipe your eyes and find comfort in knowing we are okay. We're a bit rattled and Bill's and my marriage has changed form, but it's all for the better. Sam has been a huge blessing on our lives and we love him dearly. I am so grateful that God, in His wisdom, has chosen to keep him with us for now.

There's one more chapter left in this part of the story, by no means is it the last chapter.