Our Hinson Hope

As we first began to dream about this family, we had high hopes. We imagined. We dreamed. We prayed. We knew it would have its challenges, but in spite of everything common sense seemed to be telling us (sometimes through the mouths of others), we planned to put together an uncommon family. The challenges first presented themselves through document difficulties and waiting periods that seemed forever long. We clung to our hopes. We imagined that the waiting would only make us all the more grateful for the outcome. We dreamed about six full chairs around the dinner table; six smiling faces in a family photo; six sets of linked hands in prayer. We prayed away the documents difficulties and the weight of the wait. Then it all became a reality. Those high hopes turned to dashed hopes. Those dining chairs were full...full of complaints. The smiles in the family photo were not genuine- elicited by a desperate father. "Do this for your mother." Prayers became a part of the chore chart. Hope became a thing of the past. We had moved from hope to hard work. And it was just not any fun at all. Days felt like weeks. Weeks felt like months. Months felt like years. And then one day we emerged from the fog, staggering. We were not the same, nor were we better. We were just alive. And we began to see one another more clearly. The evidence of the struggle we had been through was all around us. The casualties lay in shadowy places around our home and in our hearts- the families we were, the individuals we were, the homes we once had, the languages we had spoken, the dreams we had undone. We began the arduous process of burying the dead and creating a life in the broken world around us. It was a new world...to us all. And through the many months of recovery from what felt like a full on war in our home, I never imagined we could hope again. I laughed a little at the title of this blog. Hinson Hope. Ha! Hinson...hope we don't lose our patience today. Hope we don't lose our minds. Hope we don't lose our faith. Hope we can forgive our children for being children- and ourselves for being human. Hope we can make our minds up about what kind of parents we want to be- loving, patient, forgiving...strict, enforcers of a law with no mercy...your best friend...your worst nightmare...the stranger, locked in the master bedroom. Hope we can survive. And one day, I began to think maybe that's what real hope is- not a picture you paint in your head, but a lot of hard work for an outcome you CAN'T see- when many others would choose to walk away. Hope is struggling through the mud ahead when there's dry ground behind you. Hope is holding the sweaty hand of a teenager when all you have to do is let go. Hope is hard. Today, as I spoke with my son, he reached out and held my hand. It wasn't a conversation that required a declaration of emotion. We were just filling one another in on our days. In that moment, I experienced just a touch of hope fulfilled. I imagine that's what heaven will be- complete fulfillment of all our hopes. That's when all the work will be worth it. Then, and only then, will my heart feel settled in the way things are. Day by day, we renew our hope. Day by day, we choose to fight and not to flee. That is our Hinson Hope.

Mother's Day: Plan Z

There are not enough white picket fences for every little girl who dreams of one day becoming a mother. That's always plan A. Never in the history of childhood fantasies has someones daughter dreamed of divorce, visitation or single motherhood. Never has a child abused her dolly or forgotten it even existed. There are no day dreams of drug or alcohol abuse, no imaginings of what it might be like to live in poverty or to be so completely wrapped up in her own pain that she would one day not even hear her baby cry. That's not even plan B. No one would choose to become "that" mother. And yet for millions of young women every where, that will be their reality. And unfortunately, that leaves millions of children born into Plan Z. Plan Z involves a mother who tried, maybe even died trying. Plan Z involves so much regret that the very word has lost it's meaning. It's a state of being that so completely shatters the lives in it's path that they don't even know it's NOT plan A. Good intentions were replaced with survival mechanisms. Dreams were killed by reality. Hope was crushed by despair. The world will often judge this mother. The world that was born into a very different reality will not understand how this woman could have taken such a turn. They will not see her sorrow. They will not feel the ache she feels each time she sees a newborn baby. They will shake their heads and say there is no excuse. They will walk away and not turn back. They will perhaps pray for her "lost" children, but they would never bow their heads in prayer for such a despicable excuse for a mother. Plan Z often involves another mother- a mother from a very different set of circumstances. This mother clings to hope. This mother dares to dream. This mother will be praised by many. She will often hear, "They're so lucky to have you for a mom." And she will know that this was not plan A. She will remember the woman the world will not pray for. She will see her smile in growing faces. She will wonder if the resemblance is strong. She will wish they could share a sofa and a nice cup of tea. This mother would love to tell "that" mother just what her babies are up to. She will never be able to understand the whys of it all, but she will be so grateful for the gift "that" mother gave. Every Mother's Day, there are children who feel a tug in their hearts, an ache in their bones, a glitch in their DNA. There will always be a shadow from plan A that casts over their lives. No matter how great plan Z might turn out, it will never be what should have been. This mother knows that. This mother cannot judge "that" mother. This mother can only cry for the little girl who once dreamed of plan A...who is now living in plan Z.

One Year Later...

Okay...so I haven't been super great at updating this thing. Does it help that I've thought about it? That I've imagined posts? Probably not. The thing is, this being a mom of four boys thing is DRAINING! Even with the boys in school, I find my energy levels fairly low. It's exhausting keeping us with their schedules and continuing to teach piano/voice out of my home in addition to keeping up with the laundry, the cleaning and the cooking. Look, the bottom line is, WE MADE IT! I can hardly believe that a year ago, we began this journey together. So much has changed within that year. We forever lost the family that we were and have changed into a completely new family. Here's a glimpse of what we look like now, one year later.

Ruslan (18), Andrey (14...tomorrow), Levi (12) and Noah (7)