Dear Baby Girl ~ January 2014

Dear Baby Girl,

It's the last day of January. The last few weeks have been full of action and news.  The first news we learned was that you will not be moved from your current home.  Praise God!  I can't tell you how many sleepless nights Mommy had over the thought of you being moved to another place.  Just moments after I shared our fear on the blog we received confirmation that you will not be moved.

Our dossier arrived in Bulgaria.  It takes my breathe away to know that it is the same country as you are.  Mind-blowing.  The last we heard was that it was in translation.

And then the not-so-fun and not-great-for-you news...

We learned that our pick-up trip, to come and get you will indeed be 12-15 days instead of the initial 5 days.  Things are changing in the midst of this process. As much as we try not to dwell on projected days and timelines, it naturally happens.  It just does.  We all crave a little structure, don't we?  This trip will require additional funding and makes Mommy worry about being away from your brother for that long.  This is going to be a big adjustment for ALL of us.

We also learned that some of the paperwork process has changed, which means this:

MOJ Log-in
Travel to Meet
Return Home
File I-800 with US Immigration (follow-up to our initial immigration application)
Wait for approval
Approval is sent to US Embassy in Bulgaria
US Embassy notifies MOJ via Article 5 Letter
THEN our case goes to Bulgarian Court
(Court Approval)
(Pickup)

No movement will be made on our case on the Bulgarian side until our I-800 is approved and the MOJ is notified.

There will be more than a month or so between our trips.  And I am heartbroken.  Right this very moment I long to rock you to sleep.  It's night time here and I've been struggling to focus on an assignment when all I want to do is rock you to sleep.  Sing you lullabies and know you are safe.

Safe in my arms. Snuggled tight. In the rocker Grandma Cheri just finished for you.  It's beautiful and makes me long for you even more.

Have you ever seen a mobile?  The fan in your room has three small lights with glass domes over them.  When the fan runs, the light bounces around the walls.  It looks like diamonds dancing on the wall  and reminded me of a nighttime projector your brother had when he was little.

Are you by a window?  Can you see the stars?  Do you make wishes?

Do you have a blanket to keep you warm?  Do you hear a comforting voice at night?

I would run to the moon and back for you, baby girl.  You are so loved and now that we are even closer to meeting you, SO missed.  I cry thinking of our first meeting.  I cry leaving you on the first day. I cry leaving you at the end of first trip.  I'm sort of crying all the time. Daddy and I hug A LOT without saying a word.

We will endure this process, we will do whatever it takes.

But it doesn't mean this is easy or fair.

None of this is fair to you.  This waiting.

You should have your dancing diamonds and most of all-LOVE.  Real.whole.human.love.

We love you baby girl.

Good Night Sweetheart.  We'll see you soon (I hope).




Love,

Mommy and Daddy

Breakfast at Tiffany's

UPDATE: Shortly after I posted this, we received confirmation that Mimi will not be moved from her current orphanage as she is already "in-process".  Say it with me-THANK GOD!!!!

Raising AJ has taught me a lot of things.  I mean a lot.  The largest curve ball by far has been the transformation of a self-proclaimed introvert becoming a wildly knowledgeable advocate and actually being that advocate.  I was the little girl who was terrified to go and pay the bill at the restaurant after dinner.  Terrified.  It was those little experiences that built and egged on my social skills.  Practice, practice, practice.  When AJ arrived, I was thrust into this world of juggling therapies, therapists, insurance companies, products-you name it.  If he needed it I was on the phone or in person duking it out.  I've gone from that scared little girl to taking control and and advocating for my son; controlling what I can in the best way I know how. Quite a 180.

So when I spoke with our caseworker yesterday and she solidified, yet again, our lack of control within this adoption, I cried.  And found myself realizing it was time to write this post.

If you've been following our adoption process, you've come to know that our timeline and theories as to when things would/should be happening has changed quite a bit.  As we neared toward November and December, I started to think about whether or not she'd be home for her 3rd birthday in the spring.  And then I remembered what her paperwork said.  And panicked.  

Mimi is in an orphanage that is considered a baby orphanage...from infant to age 3.

THREE.

Do you see where this is going?

If we don't have her home by her birthday, she could be moved to another orphanage.  

The conversation with our caseworker yesterday left me with a pit in my stomach.  A confirmation of helplessness and grief for my baby girl.

"It is out of (the attorneys office), our, and your control as to whether or not she is moved".

Why is this a big deal, you ask?

I will try not to go all adoption 101 on you, but please understand that she has already experienced trauma.  And this, this move, will be more trauma for her.  And us picking her up, more trauma.  But in regards to her special needs, this potential move could be well, two-fold tramatic for her.  Where she is right now is familiar.  And while it is our personal opinion, from the referral information we received that she is loved, well cared for, and in a facility that is maintained well and has adequate resources for the children, it still isn't a home or a family.  So while it breaks my heart that she is there, it is also comforting to me that she is there...and remains there. 

She has been at this place for a long time.  She knows the space, what it smells like, what it sounds like.  She has her place at the table and her bed. She knows the people who care for her and the children she calls her friends and family.  This is her temporary home.  And while she's not putting up pictures or painting, she certainly isn't still living out of boxes and eating Ramen.  Do you see what I mean?

We have no control over this.  My gut says they will keep her there, because she already has a family in process.  But there is no guarantee. Which I suppose shouldn't surprise me because you really aren't in control when you adopt.  Period.  We won't have an answer until we travel.  My prayer is that our case is logged-in soon and we can visit and pick-up before her birthday.  That, my friends, is honestly a long shot.  My second prayer is to be logged-in soon, visit, and make a personal plea to keep her where she is until we pick her up.  Usually (said lightly and sarcastically) there is about a month between the visit and pick up trips.  I sure hope so. 

Earlier this week I went a little crazy was on Pinterest and decided to create a board for her 3rd Birthday.  After searching "girls birthday party" I came upon a Breakfast at Tiffany's party.  Oh my. And thus, the entire board is filled with this theme.  Trust me when I say this fits her to a "T". It was a moment of pure bliss planning for her. Black, white, Tiffany blue.  Oh my. The tiaras, little black dresses, the pearls.  All things girly and sweet. How I long to celebrate her and wish her all the good things in life.  You see it is not about the dress, or the pearls, or the gifts. It is about celebrating our precious daughter who deserves to be celebrated.  

Will you join us in praying for this birthday situation?  Please pray for her little being and for us to find comfort in peace with whatever may happen in light of her birthday and her adoption process.

Oh, and I bought this. Just because.

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The -bles

There are moments in our journey where I feel paralyzed.  I have an enormously long list of to-do's, which include things that go far beyond the typical grocery shopping and laundry.  So much to do, so much fog in my brain that I scrap it all and freeze.

Today is one of those days.

If we start the clock when we announced adoption #2, we have been on this journey for 4 months. SO MUCH has occurred in such a tiny timeframe.  Just a crack of light during a morning's worth of sun.  AJ announced he was going to be a big brother and a week later we had a referral.  Boom. Boom. Boom goes the process.  Fast. Quick. Wild.

Stop. Wait. Wait. Wait.

But didn't you just say you've only been waiting 4 months?

Yes.  I did.  But if you have adopted, or have been part of someones process in the least bit, you know that a millisecond can feel like an eternity when you are waiting.  And if you think of how long our baby girl has been waiting, which is the real wait in all of this, then you must start from the moment she entered this world. That. THAT.  SHE.  She is what makes all of this worth it. So worth it.

Have you read THIS?  If not, please do and then come back here to me.

Right now I'm sitting at #9 and #12.  Yes friends, I am stupid and a total mess.  Stupid in the way of may brain being mush, fog, and overloaded.  I may seem brave on the outside, or a total pro (hardy har har) because we've adopted internationally before.  What you don't see are the outbursts of frustration and me completely overwhelmed when answering the same question for the tenth time on paperwork.  You don't see the tears or my darkest moments when I'm lying in bed wonder what we've gotten ourselves into.  You don't see the doubt, the fear, the questions floating aimlessly.

I am vulnerable.

I feel terrible.

Sometimes. Because not only are we in the midst of Mimi's adoption process, we are also raising a son who has been rather intense lately.  And while he deserves an entire blog post all his own (which will happen), juggling the two has been a struggle.  The summer months I worried that he was getting "leftovers" of his Mommy.  We jumped right into Mimi's adoption and there were times that paperwork had to be done, yes right that moment because it needed to go to the post office that afternoon, which meant less swinging and more things to keep him occupied on his own. I felt guilty, and continue to feel guilty at times.

I am humble.

This is by far my favorite -ble and the feeling I am most grateful for.  When we began this journey, there was no magic money tree that sprouted up in the backyard.  There was no big savings account sitting and waiting for this.  We felt called to adopt, no matter what the cost.  I sat paralyzed, anxious and unsure as to whether to hit the "create" button on our GoFundMe.com puzzle fundraiser.  When we began planning our silent auction fundraiser, I wondered if we'd have any items donated or if people would even come.  What do we sell tickets for?  How are we going to do this?

I hit that button and Mimi's puzzle began to have names written on the back of each piece.  We created the flyers for our fundraiser with a handful of donated items, which multiplied to over 60 by event night.  Tickets sold at just the right price and the auction was very successful.  The love we have felt is overwhelming, humbling, and strengthening.

I no longer ask how we are going to do this.  We ARE doing this.

Asking for help is a bit of a faux pas in today's world.  That pains me.  It's why I sat on my bed, terrified to hit that button.  One click made us vulnerable to the rest of the world.  The American way has turned into the "Me" way.  And if this sounds preachy, its not meant to be. It's something I've been learning about a lot in my recent classes.  Coincidence?  I think not.  We've become all about what's good for me and how does this or that benefit numero uno ME.  We live in the land of opportunity, so why not.  What am I going to get out of this?  Why do I want to help so and so?  This is why I never want to watch the news....

I've stopped caring about the label the world has created about need.  I like being humble.  Humble is where I hope to always be.  And if I get lost, I hope to find my way back.  Because it is truly a beautiful place to be.

Over the last few weeks I've spent many hours filling out adoption grant and loan applications.  They have been just as difficult and pokey as the adoption paperwork itself.  Pokey?  Yeah, pokey.

Why did you decide to adopt?

Are you prepared for post-placement/attachment?

How are you prepared for post-placement/attachment?

What have you done in preparation for this?

Give us a breakdown of all of your adoption costs.  Now give us a breakdown of every single part of your financial world.

Have you raised funds on your own?  How much and how?

Provide a statement of faith.

Provide references.

Describe why you need financial assistance with adoption.

Are you sure you wanna do this?  Huh? Huh? Huh?  C'mon?! Are ya sure?!

None of them have the exact same requirements.  Different requirements, timelines, supplemental documents and information.  I think a small part of me thought (and thought wrong) that these applications would be less intimidating than the adoption paperwork.  Oh, was I wrong.  It has been a much needed reminder that while parts of our process have been super smooth and easy, this is not easy.  No one said it would be easy. I read a post the other day that said "If she's amazing, she won't be easy...if she's she's worth it, you won't give up".

So I'm not giving up.  I'm pushing, or at least giving it my all to push dark and negative thoughts out of my head. The grant applications have been filled out and submitted.  Submitted with tons of supplemental documents, including cover letters explaining how we are almost at the end of our process.  You see, because we are.  We are waiting on immigration approval.  Once we receive that letter, our dossier will go to agency, then to Bulgaria, and be logged in.  Once we are logged in, we travel to meet her.  Meeeeeet her.  Oh I can hardly stand saying that without squealing.  Typically, a family waits for a referral after log-in.

Incredible.

This is where I am reminded how incredible Mimi's adoption has been.  Our referral came within days.  Before we applied. So we are at the end of the paperwork trail.

We are still in need of $17K to bring our girl home.

I know you are asking, why is she sharing this? Because we have always been transparent with this blog and will continue to be.  I pray every day that this amount continues to decrease.  As we get closer, my heart beats faster and worry creeps in every now and then.  I cover my head with my blankey and shut the world out in fear, thinking

Impossible.

And then I remember how her adoption has been provided for thus far. Incredible.  We are trusting.  Trusting God will provide.  And that doesn't mean he will bibidy-bobidy-boo a money tree in the back yard.  That doesn't mean we expect him to drop it off on the doorstep.  But we know he is ABLE.  He is laying out this beautiful journey to our daughter. Here we are, four months later, closer than ever to bringing our baby girl home.  Nothing is impossible.

He makes us ABLE.

Loving Her

There are many things about the adoption process that bug me.  Many.  Perhaps the reason they are weighing on me now is because we are in the thick of it and I am seriously overwhelmed. 

What has bothered me the most recently is the polar opposite reaction to Mimi and her special needs. 

I have heard things you would never, ever, ever ask a pregnant woman.  For all intensive purposes, we are pregnant, people.  Except we have no due date.  And are dealing with three different governments. But its kinda the same. Just imagine a bucket of paper in front of my tummy if that helps give you a visual.  Except, no we aren’t pregnant.  So this makes it a bit abstract, doesn’t it. 

The most common question, “If you get there and she has more than they’ve shared, will you say no?  You can say no, right?”

I’ve answered the question matter-of-factly with “Yes, if it’s not a good match, we can say no.”  It is truth that is a possibility if you are looking at this through a sterile lens of insensitivity.  We have the option, per our rights as adoptive parents in this process and how Bulgaria’s program works, we can say no.

But we won’t.

And we don’t want to.

We will not say no.

And please, please, please, I ain’t too proud to beg, please stop asking me this.

Because when you do, you forget that this is my daughter you are talking about.   You are turning her into a “headache” rather than the gentle human life she is.  She is a real person, with a heart,  and feelings, and a longing for a family that she probably doesn’t even realize is within her. 

Remember my Perfect post?  Yes.  I do believe this was my introduction of Mimi to all of you without me knowing at the time.

Imagine being handed a checklist.  A checklist in which you choose the type of child you are open to.  You can have all the medical technology in the world, the miracle of human life is that there are always surprises.  Beautiful, expected, unexpected, and sad.  They still exist.  When a woman births a child, she does not hand that child over simply because she has a birthmark.  She does not say no to that child when he or she is diagnosed with a childhood cancer.  We just don’t do that.  We do not deny children families and love because of their diagnoses-whenever they are given.

So why is it different in adoption?  There is such a dumb, for lack of a better word, assumption that you get to choose your child in adoption.  Therefore it is easier?  Haha, um, no.  I find this round, with knowing the child’s needs upfront, much more difficult. Please don’t misunderstand me as saying that we didn’t think long and hard about what medical needs we felt we’d be able to parent.  We did.  We thought long and hard and knew it would be a big concern for our social worker and agencies as to how we would hand X, Y, or Z.  But how do you handle things in life?  You either handle them or you don’t.  Fight or Flight?  We are fighting people.

I almost feel selfish being able to fill out ye ‘ol medical needs checklist.  Will you accept this?  Will you accept this? 

I have a deep love for this child.  Visceral. Did you feel that when your child was growing in your womb?  I bet you did.  I feel it too-in my heart.  Love is unconditional, isn’t it?  I have grieved for this child.  Oh, have I grieved.  Reading your child was abandoned is something you can’t quite describe.  I grieved for her the day we accepted her referral. I cried and literally shook for her.  I listened to this song, and this song, texted my dear, close mama friends, and prayed like I’ve never prayed before.   The phone call came with the question of our decision, and we stepped out on the edge.

I grieved the same for AJ, except I was a wreck in the midst of his doctor's appointments, therapies, and bonding. We came in on the back road, detour, dirt road, alleyway, when it came to AJ.  We had no idea what we were in for.  And now here we are, with this amazing little boy who has taught us more than you could ever imagine.  We will love this little girl for who she is.  Plain and simple.

No, I’m not sure how the logistics will work having AJ’s needs and Mimi’s needs together under one roof.  Right now, we are focusing our attention on AJ and doing everything we can to get his little sister home.  I have no doubt it will be difficult.  I also have no doubt it will be the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my thirty-some years thus far.  I know that with AJ things got better and better. We’ve seen the light at the end of the tunnel with AJ.  I can’t wait to see him holding his little sister’s hand at the end of her tunnel.  HE makes all things possible. I can only imagine the possibilities when she’s home and growing into the young lady she is destined to be. 

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Rila Mountains-Bulgaria