“International B-Mo Day”

Today marks ONE WHOLE YEAR since our beloved Boris was taken out of Romaniv and joined our family. ONE YEAR! It feels like it has flown by, but it also feels like he’s been with us for a lot longer.

Learning to love and care for Boris has been the most character-defining time in my life. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it till the cows come home: caring for the weak and broken is a fabulous way to expose your own weaknesses and areas of brokenness. I thought I was a pretty okay person until B-Mo joined us. He has taught me the extreme selfishness in my heart and the extreme impatience as well. I will be forever grateful to him for this. Not that those battles have been won, but at least now I can see that the battles are there and the areas where I am exposed.

We had no idea what to expect when we took Boris home last December 18th. I remember that he knew the day was special. As soon as I entered the Isolation hall to get him dressed he grabbed my hand and scooted toward the door like “Let’s get outta here!” Now that I know him and I know how smart he is, of course he knew the day was special! I’m sure he heard nannies and others talking about it for weeks in advance. Sweet boy. Boris is no dummy.

Waiting for Jed to sign documents Freedom!

I remember how when we pulled up to the driveway he was afraid to get out of the van. Jed eventually had to pick him up and carry him into the house. I remember how after he ate he tried to grab all the food he could off the counter. I remember how we had to feed him and how he was so impatient because he was used to food being shoved down his throat at such an amazing speed, he didn’t know how to eat slowly.

I remember how in those first days he was quiet and only interested in sitting on the couch alone.

I remember the first several months when Evie was born and Boris’ honeymoon period was over and how we (mostly I) cried every day. “How are we going to do this? Why did we do this? I can’t live like this forever…” I’m going to be painfully honest here. There were many days last spring when I had major feelings of regret. Not regret like “Let’s take him back to Romaniv”, but regret like “I regret that I chose to do this with my life.” Seriously. In those days, Boris had his good moments, but they were few and far between. He was mostly just unhappy and disregulated and demanding. Nothing was good enough. Nothing made him happy (except for riding in the car”. His self-harming was at an all time high and the only saving grace was bedtime, because thank God, Boris has always stayed in his bed at night. Every day I woke with dread. It was a dark time.

And now? Now those moments seem like ancient history. Now? Now I love my Boris/B-Mo/Beemchick/Borya/Borka/Beemo-my-Weemo like I never thought possible. I adore him. He blesses my heart and he is a gift to our family. With his small, broken body he is teaching us thankfulness and contentment and perseverance. But don’t be deceived, he isn’t perfect! He still loves to punch himself in the head whenever he gets the chance. He loves to throw fits at the dinner table and will throw his bowl and cup on the floor any chance he gets. He will pee his pants if he’s mad and all that jazz, but guess what? I’m not anything close to perfect either. I’m impatient and short and so so selfish. The difference is now, now we know each other. Boris is known. He is known and he knows us. We get each other and we know what to expect from each other. He has become a part of us- an irreplaceable member of our family, adored by all. After a lifetime of being treated like an animal, Boris is becoming human.

In Romaniv Boris was basically silent. Now I can say with confidence that Boris is THE LOUDEST member of our family. Oh.my.word. He has a lot to say and and is determined every day to make up for his 26 years of silence. He doesn’t say words, but we all understand his “B-Mo talk” just fine. We know what sounds are happy sounds, impatient sounds, wanting sounds, angry sounds, scared sounds. We know his favorite music and foods, and he has definite preferences in people. We know him, and being known is part of what has helped Boris in becoming human over this past year.

I am so thank that God has given us the gift of our Borya. I get teary just thinking of all the years we missed, but I’m so thankful for all the years to come. He is our sunshine blessing and our whole family is changed by him. At some point along the journey we realized we would be devastated without him.

So today we will celebrate our little Beemchick with cookies and hugs. We will kiss him and tell him how much we love him. He might not understand the big deal, but we do. We can look back and see a life redeemed, and we are thankful.

We’ll love you forever, our precious Boris. ❤️