Today was a lovely day for Krassi. After last night's difficulty, he fell back asleep and slept peacefully all night, except for one brief moment when we thought we heard him laughing! Owen confirmed this morning that in the early morning hours he had also heard laughter beneath him. ;) Krassi was smiley when he woke up, and Lori, his PT, commented that he was much more smiley and giggly than he had been the week before. He is seeming to get a sense of the rhythms of our crazy life and is enjoying them. One of my favorite things is how he laughs when he sees his coat, laughs when he gets into the van (on both the to and from trips), and laughs when I bring him back into his hang-out in the living room.
We had one rough spot this morning while we were still at the therapy center waiting for Reuben to finish up with Kelsey when Rinnah started crying (because she was asked to pick up her crayons. Oooh, tough life for that little girl!) and Krassi, with his relatively highly developed sense of empathy, started crying, too. And hard. Full, loud cries, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Being in a small room didn't help much. Thankfully it was nearly time to go so we packed up our things and moved to the lobby. Bouncing over my shoulder while I walk seems to have a calming effect on him, and it gave Rinnah a task to distract her from her crying, so things were soon better.
The rest of the day was great. He was happy, playful, silly, and just plain content to be.
Bedtime went smoothly, but then again, about an hour after falling asleep, he was up whimpering. Once again, I went in and sat near him, stroking his hair, singing, holding his hands as he would let me, and tonight Daddy was in with us a bit, too, helping him to learn that when he's sad/hurt/sick he is not alone. Just like last night, he built himself up to full heart-wrenching plaintive cries that once again miraculously didn't wake up all of his younger siblings sleeping upstairs. He seemed to calm a little bit sooner tonight than last night, but it still makes my heart ache.
Once again, I don't know what's wrong. He doesn't *seem* to be sick - no real symptoms during the day, and unlike our other children who sometimes feel better during the day because they're upright, Krassi spends much of his time awake or asleep in a prone position anyway.
And once again, I wonder how much his tiny, malnourished brain grasps of everything that is going on in his life. I haven't posted much about the situation in which most of Krassimir's life was lived, but have wanted to at some point after he was home so that those of you who care about this little guy could get a bit of insight into his past. I can't imagine anyone could live through what he and many other children with him lived through without long-lasting repurcussions of the trauma that was their life. The problem is, when that's all you've ever known, you have no reference point from which to judge your situation. But Krassi is now in a very different place than what he grew up thinking was "normal" and suddenly, at whatever level he understands, there is a great contrast.
We're not a perfect family. But we are a family. And we are Krassimir's family. And as imperfect as we are, the life he lives here is still worlds apart from the one he came from. Following is a link to a friend's blog which contains translation of two newspaper articles that were published in his country soon after the situation in his orphanage was brought before the officials. They provide a glimpse into our son's past that I think are connected to the emotion that we're seeing coming out of him now that he's been home for a few weeks.
link to articles
By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth. 1 John 3:16-18
And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ Matthew 25:40
What an incredible blessing it is to be given the opportunity to love this oldest son of ours. As his name reminds us - Krassimir Emmanuel - God is with us - we are fully supplied through Him with everything we need to be this boy's family.
Andrea, Based on my experience with my girls, I'd guess what you're seeing at night is Krassi grieving. So you are absolutely right to respond with compassion and empathy. By being there with him through it, you are giving him permission to process everything that he is feeling. And what he is feeling is real: he's lived most of his life so far not knowing the love he hasn't had. And now that he is experiencing your love, remembering must be painful. My girls each did their deepest level of grief processing at night. During the day, there was lots to distract them and they appeared to be adjusting well. But at night, after they fell asleep and their brain spooled down, the grief welled up. My girls' backgrounds were not nearly as deprived as Krassi's so I'm not sure if this will hold true for him. But for them, we turned a grieving corner about six weeks home, and another corner about three months home. Joy's grieving process, surprisingly, has been emotionally the cleanest, the most complete. Mercy, who is my most introverted and has much higher cognitive capacity, still grieves unexpectedly sometimes --and she's been home nine years. Hope, home eight years, is in between. It is a joy watching you take from God's hands the abundant sufficiency He offers :). Not that there will not be humanly very hard days! But your visible dependency on God is a gift to your children :). Carrie
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