Levi is Sick

Levi is sick.  No symptoms other than a fever and lethargy so we have no idea what it is.

And that's precisely the problem.

One of the things you quickly realize when you adopt is that you have no idea about almost anything.  We have no idea how he handles fevers, if he has febrile seizures, if he tolerates ibuprofin or tylenol better and which one works for him, etc.  We have no idea what diseases he may have already had and which he hasn't.  Which reminds me of an appointment we had earlier this week for him with the ENT.

He wasn't sick, yet (and maybe it's where he got the germs?), but we had an appointment because he has enlarged tonsils and snores to high heaven.  No one is getting sleep around here, lemmetellyou.  Like at all new dr appointments, we were given the umpteen pages of history to fill out and which  point

I looked at the receptionist and said my answer to all questions is N/A.  Non-Applicable.

Was he full-term?  Don't know.
How much did he weigh at birth?  Don't know.
Ever had pneumonia?   Don't know.
Mother's side struggled with heart issues or blood pressure?  Don't know.
Father's side struggled with mental health?  Don't know.
History of asthma?  Don't know.
Had any childhood diseases?  Don't know.

And that, my friends, just rips my heart out.  For him.  I have an adult friend who was adopted at birth who tells me that filling out these medical forms is one of the very hard things about being adopted...you just don't know where and whom you came from.

What will I tell my son when he asks what the little marks are all over his chest and belly?  Are they from chicken pox or measles?  He tests positive for being immune to both, but we don't know which one they're from.

What will I tell him about the scar on his forehead?  It could be from falling out of his crib in an act of daring adventure.  Or it could be from a medical iv because it perfectly matches a scar Mia has on her forehead and that's a common practice in China.  We just don't know.

Today, he was as precious a boy as ever there was.  When the fever hit, he held his little arms up to his Baba saying, "I cold, Baba" followed by "Hug me, Baba, please."

If you aren't undone by a little boy desperate for the love of a daddy, I don't know what to say.  Randall swept him up, cuddled him close and that is how he stayed all day....except for when I took turns loving on him as the Mama...holding him like a baby and kissing his neck and whispering sweet assurances that we are here and that we will take care of him.

Any time we tried to put him down, he whimpered.  His little eyes would fill to the absolute brim with big, watery tears...so full of sadness.

All I could think of was whether or not he was held in China when he was sick.  Perhaps he was, but chances are there were too many children to hold for long.  Yet another question I don't know the answer to.

As I type this, little Levi is sleeping next to me in my bed...all hot and feverish and completely at the mercy of the big people in his life who have taken him half a world away from anything he has known.  How much courage that much take.  To even let yourself sleep.  I can't even.

People sometimes say that Randall and I are brave.  Every day, I look at my Chinese children and see courage personified.  To trust.  To love.  After losing everything?  They are overcomers.

Maybe that's what I'll write on the next physician's form...

History?  Overcomer.