Seth's Story part three

           Here is part  one , 

here is  part   two 

 Now for the final chapter 

For every Seth that is saved, there are so many more kids, just like him, waiting in an orphanage. 100,000 in Ukraine alone. Somewhere between the ages of 4 and 6, depending on what part of the country they live in, they will be transferred to a “special needs internaut”… a mental institution. A facility housing ages 4-65. They will remain there the rest of their lives. Those with any sort of special need will never receive an education, no job training, no life skills training. They will sit and stare at the walls, slowly losing their minds, their bodies deteriorating and becoming weak, until they finally give up and die. That is hard to read. It seems sensational. In our day and age, surely not, right. But it’s true. It exists. I’ve been there. I’ve seen a child’s reality. Every time a child is adopted, that child is given hope, health care, family, love and an education. Children who were deemed “uneducable” In Ukraine are brought home, given an education, go on to high school, college, get married and have children. All because someone stepped out in faith and took a chance for a child.

Change is happening in Ukraine, but like all change, it comes slowly. There are a few schools opening up for children with special needs. But they are few and far between in comparison to the demand. Every time a child is adopted, a statement is made that these kids have value, are worth it, and deserve everything we go through to get them here. Slowly, the wheels of change turn.

When I think of Seth and where he’d be if we hadn’t walked through those doors, I think back to the line of wheelchairs, of his mind losing its grip. I think of him sitting there for 59 more years. Doing nothing. Sitting, moaning, rocking. When I think of Seth’s future, I see him starting school, learning to read, learning to walk, being on a high school swim team, maybe being a weight lifter. I see him studying hard, because he knows the value of what he’s been given. I see him being a cub scout, a boy scout, earning his Eagle, going on to college and being an engineer some day. With his captivating laugh and coy smile, I’m sure he will get married and have children. All of this can be his, despite his CP, with his CP, because of his CP. His cerebral palsy shaped him. Without it, he wouldn’t have spent his first six years where he did. He might not have the determination and drive he does. He certainly wouldn’t be in our family. We owe a lot to his CP. His CP put him where he is now… in our family.


 Thanks for sharing Laura.  I have enjoyed   reading about Seth's incredible journy for more information please vist   Laura's blog.  

Seth's story Part two

 Read Part one  here 

Seth started out in a gait trainer  after  X MASS 2011

It’s been just over five months since we stood in that mental institution and looked at the shell of a little boy, looked into his eyes, trying to find the little boy he was. He’s been home almost four months now, and he is amazing. AMAZING! He is by far the most determined child I’ve ever known. He is motivated. He is learning fast, hitting milestones and catching up at record speed. A child confined to a wheelchair is now in a gait trainer, taking steps. He’s learning self care skills he never got to use at the orphanage, and is preparing to go to school for the first time ever. The biggest difference I see in Seth is the light in his eyes. He is ALIVE! There is no way you cannot laugh when Seth laughs, because you know the cost he’s paid to get to that laugh. You know the days of misery that led him here, to a place where he could find joy, love and a family. My other children agree Seth has brought our family closer, united us in the cause of a child. Our children have watched Seth literally have life breathed into him. They’ve watched him go from a disconnected, scared, institutionalized child to a little boy who loves to play with toys, get into things and explore. He’s inquisitive, curious, and cannot get enough of his newfound freedoms. Our children have embraced Seth with open arms, delighting in his absolute sweetness. Accepting him just as he is, and knowing that healing is a process that could take years to achieve.

HE'S  NOW  IN A WALKER  STARTED  LAST WEEK IN FEBUARY   

               Aside from Seth, the people I feel the most sorry for are Seth’s birth parents. I wonder if they think of him, if they worry about him, wonder what became of him. They had a child in a country that is about 50 years behind the US in healthcare and education. It is extremely hard to have a child with a disability in Ukraine. There is no special ed, no programs to support families. Almost any child with any disability at all will be abandoned in Eastern Europe. I don’t judge them, because I can’t begin to know their reasoning. I wish them peace. I hope one day, they will learn that Seth was saved from the system they gave him up to. To his parents, I would say, “You missed out on a beautiful little boy. He is a light to our family. He has perseverance and strength. His laughter fills a room. His smile is contagious. When you walked away from Seth, you gave up one awesome little boy.”

CP is only one small part of Seth. It doesn’t define him. Seth is defined by his character. He survived something I cannot imagine. For six and a half long years. He survived. And he still smiles. That defines him. His unwillingness to give in, to give up. Seth has blond hair, blue eyes, he’s got double jointed fingers, he loves playing in water, eating yogurt and bananas, and he has CP. He will live a full life, filled with laughter and happiness. He is way bigger than his disability. CP will not

limit him, because he’s survived something way bigger, way messier, way more debilitating than CP.






    PART  THREE  COMES   SOON, AS ALWAYS   BE SURE TO STOP BY  LAURA'S  BLOG

Seth story part one

 So  yesterday I  told  you about   what it used to mean  in America  to have a disability, and thus why we  should not use the  R word,  Well today  I   am  going to share with  you  a   story  of   a  Amazing  little  boy  named  Seth who used to live in similar situations, I am  happy to  report  that Seth has  been adopted into a loving family and is doing  quite well.  Seth's  mom  Laura   will  tell  us more.





I’m trying to think back to my life before Seth. Before adoption. Before cerebral palsy. It’s only been four months, but I have a hard time remembering what life was like. How did I fill my day, my life, my family, without this little boy? I know some things were easier, like getting into and out of a store quickly. But some things were harder, like getting my children to understand what a true “need” is, versus what a “want” is. Now that my children have met Seth, they understand how truly unimportant the newest phone is, or another pair of jeans.


Before Seth, I had very limited experience with disabilities. I knew next to nothing about CP. I didn’t go into adoption to find a child with CP. In fact, I didn’t really mean to adopt at all, and certainly not a child with CP. Seth and CP found us. I saw him while scrolling through a blog post that a friend of mine had written. When I saw his face, my heart dropped. He was mine. I knew it as well as if I’d given birth to him. He belonged to our family, and as crazy as it seemed, we had to go get him. It was only after that initial realization that I noticed he had CP and couldn’t walk. But he was a child. A child who needed a home. We had a home. We had what he most needed. Once your heart commits, the rest doesn’t matter.

Seth's family.   As  you can see  he is around love. This  is what EVERY child needs 

We set aside a night to talk to our kids. We have six biological children, ranging in age from 18 years down to 3 years. We called them all together and showed them Seth’s picture. We explained about CP, that he lives in an orphanage in Ukraine and we think we need to adopt him and bring him to our home. We had a variety of responses. One of our daughters, my most tender hearted, cried for him. Another daughter completely supported us but was very concerned about the length of time we’d be gone… seven weeks. We told them they can share concerns openly or pull us aside privately, but that we wanted to know how they felt. We have sweet children. They all agreed that this little boy deserved a life and needed our family.


Four short months later, we were flying across the world to meet our little boy, embarking on the biggest adventure of our lives. We knew Seth had been transferred to an institution three months previously, and we knew that likely did not bode well for him. Children with disabilities, and especially those who cannot walk, do not fare well in Eastern Europe orphanages. We knew Seth had likely been confined since his transfer. We were anxious, nervous and worried about his condition and what we’d find. We had pictures of him from right before his transfer. We knew what we should have seen when we walked in. The reality was far different. The reality took us back. Shocked us.

 Seth in the institution 

We learned that Seth had been confined to a wheelchair with the brakes locked, for three and a half months. He was in a room with three others, all in wheelchairs. No toys, no books, no conversation. All four boys were non verbal. Other than the sounds of moans, groans, and teeth grinding, it was a silent room. The sound of boys literally losing their minds. Our Seth had regressed fast. In fact, we didn’t even recognize him. The director had to point him out for us. He did not even resemble the boy in our pictures. He was slumped over in his wheelchair, not making sounds,not making eye contact, completely disconnected from his surroundings. Our minds raced with fear. This is not what we expected. He was like an infant. In that moment, we had to make the biggest decision of our lives. Our facilitator looked at us and asked us if we wanted to proceed with the adoption. Quiet. Racing heart. Brain numbing worry. Jeremy and I looked at Seth. A traumatized child. A hurting child. A child with some very serious problems. We looked at each other. And nodded. Yes. Seth was ours. Have faith.  


Stick around for part  two  of Seth story. Also Visit  Laura's  blog  

 Seth on the  move.      He  looks  much more  happier than   the pic above