For those of you less versed in medical administration (which is most of you out there), an EOB is the Explanation of Benefits that you receive in the mail after a medical consultation, which always includes my favorite line “This is not a bill.” Our first EOB arrived yesterday for all of our visits to Comer, and we anticipate enough of these arriving at our home in the following months (and years) to wallpaper most of our first floor. This afternoon Brian and I joked that the EOBs arriving from today’s day-o-specialists alone might meet our annual out-of-pocket maximum.

Today was our big surgical consult with the Craniofacial Team– and let me tell you, they were thorough. We were “warned” that this would be no 30 minute special. This team, consisting of a plastic surgeon, orthodontic surgeon, geneticist, speech pathologist and feeding therapist, and an ear-nose-and throat doctor along with their respective gaggle of interns, residents, and fellows, all met with Alexander today. We dutifully rolled our stroller from small exam room to exam room while Alexander worked his magic. While he wasn’t thrilled to have people poking around in his mouth, he smiled for just about every photograph the team took. It was pretty darn hysterical to have our little man sitting on an exam table throwing out this huge grin to a bunch of doctors more than ready for a bucket of tears– and he even did the Kelly “outstretched arms” pose complete with jubilant “la la” once for the orthodontist.  Needless to say, he made an impression.

We can’t say enough good things about the team so far– the geneticist even went searching for our next appointment doctor so we didn’t have to sit around too long in the waiting room– who does that!?!?

The result of all our appointments is pretty much what we expected. Our man needs surgery, and most likely several. Because of the size of his cleft, the surgeon wants to do several progressive surgeries rather than 1 big one. That way, his little body will better be able to adjust to the  changes, and the surgeries will have better chance for taking. (a constant risk for any cleft surgery is that holes occur or the palate closure pops back open over time). We are waiting to hear back from the surgery scheduler, but we figure we’ll hear about potential dates soon. Also, although it’s never a 100% guarantee, the geneticist was really pleased with Alexander’s progress and seemed somewhat surprised that he was able to stand with support. Cleft lip and palate is one of the most common birth defects in the world, but it is often also associated with other disorders or complications. From everything they assessed, it looks as though aside from institutionalization-related delays, our little man is right on track.

I also have to admit that after 6 appointments, I finally welled up a little at the hospital today. I know many people who are reading this have gone through similar and/or more trying experiences with their own kids, but I feel compelled to share. I made it through almost the entire day, but when we finally got to some behavioral auditory testing, it hit me how much this little guy is going through (even though hopefully he will have limited memory of it, if at all). I was standing in the control booth with one of the therapists while Brian sat with Alexander on his lap in the testing room. Luckily, I was able to pull myself together before the technician and everyone else could see, but it definitely hit me.  Knowing my little man has a long road of medical care and therapy in front of him just breaks my heart, but I am grateful his cheerful spirit and trust in us will make it easier.

Today was a really busy day at Casa Kelly. As I’ve mentioned a few times in recent posts, we spend a lot of time in the car traveling to and from Comer Children’s Hospital, a part of the University of Chicago Hospital. Aside from the parking deck elevators, which are large enough for approximately 1.5 people, I have zero complaints. (I think our record was us, our stroller with Alexander, a gentleman in a wheelchair, and three other people. We all got friendly REALLY fast). But back to the hospital and adoption clinic team– they are fantastic! I truly feel like they care about our family, Alexander’s progress, and looked sad to see us have our last visit with them today.

The things a mom does out of love– this time it involved me spinning myself silly on a stool just to make Alexander laugh while we waited.

We progressed through a series of four visits– the first of which was getting basic vitals, the second being the big blood draw, the third discussing the results of his labs, and the fourth being getting him on track for surgery, speech therapy, and easing us into “normal” life with a pediatrician closer to home. Today was our final visit at the adoption clinic, and it felt a little bittersweet. Our medical team was thrilled with Alexander’s overall progress, and our little man was chipper even through his set of vaccine updates.  He gained close to 2 pounds since we brought him home, which is pretty impressive for his pre-op condition. We also met with a speech therapist, who worked with Alexander and us on ways to increase communication and verbalization, along with eating development.

Our man showed off for the therapist and even was able to drink from a cup. We tried a few signs with him, and he signed back “mine” once to us. Alexander has already been exposed to some signing from us, including mom, dad, cat, and his least favorite “all gone.” Several of you have asked us how his English is coming along– he definitely knows his name, which is a huge relief to us. We were concerned for the first week or so that he thought his name was “Benny.” Every time we’d call for Benny, one of our cats, Alexander would squeal, smile, and clap– total parent failure if your new child thinks their name is actually that of the family pet!

We return to the hospital super early on Thursday morning for a 4+ hour appointment with the surgical team; we knew this would be long and daunting, but the trips into the city do make for long days.  Most likely, we’ll have a better feel for when we’ll be scheduling surgery, which we hope is soon!

Our day ended with a visit from our social worker for our first post-placement visit almost as soon as we got home from the hospital. It was so great to see her, and she seemed to really enjoy meeting Alexander in person for the first time.  We’ll continue having our social worker visit us throughout the next five years (yes, 5!) where reports will be generated and mailed to the Chinese government. Overall first placement report? Two thumbs up for our little man!