Brave Restoration

I've been doing my best to contrive words for what I experienced last weekend.

In March I became part the launch team for Jen Hatmaker's new book For The Love. 

I mentioned it in this post. The object of the game was simple.  

Receive an advanced copy of the book, read it, promote it.

Except that's not what happened. 

What happened was something none of us could have ever imagined.

Our launch team became a community of women (and four men) 

who were organic, raw, real, genuine, and just downright epic.

We didn't start off that way.  It began rather shallow.  "Hi, I'm so-and-so, I live here, and I'm SO EXCITED!"  As we began to receive our books, quotes began to fly around and the real began to creep in.  We moved from the shallow to the deep end.  We began to share things that maybe some of our nearest and dearest didn't know.  We shared the hard.  The struggles. It was a safe place. The hopes.  The dreams.  We loved on each other. We got silly. For reals.  People who lived in common areas began to meet up, prayers were asked and said a mile a minute, and we began showering each other with incredible love.  My Facebook news feed was clogged with For The Love Launch Team member posts every single day. 

Somewhere along the line, someone {joking} suggested a launch team party at Jen's farmhouse. 

And then Jen invited us all to her farmhouse for a Launch Team Party.

As I type this I am still finding it hard to put this experience into words.  I wasn't going to go.  Insert one of the 452 excuses I made here.  Some incredibly thoughtful women decided to start a scholarship fund for women who wanted to attend the party.  By the time this venture was completed, 27 women, myself included, were scholarship recipients. 

As I was boarding my first flight, a woman said, "I'm on the launch team too!" When we arrived in our connecting city, we met up with another launch team member and flew together to Austin.  When we arrived in Austin, we picked up another!

We greeted one another with hugs.  We were not strangers.

I stayed in a house with twelve other women.  

Twelve incredible souls that are now my dear friends.  

Initially, the excitement was all about going to Jen's.  Meeting Jen.  

It was a backyard party y'all.  

Two hundred + women, loving each other, loving Jesus, 

and embracing this incredible community we had built.

{Dinner on Jen's porch}

One of our sweet thirteen shared with me that she felt I was brave for coming. 

I didn't feel brave for coming.

I left feeling brave.  

Brave with clarity and direction.  

Brave to implement changes in my life that are long overdue.
 Brave to find myself again.
Brave to take some things off my beam.
Brave in realizing so many things.
Brave in just being me.

Community is a struggle for me.
It's something I have wrestled with since I was a young girl.
None of these women knew this, but they still love me for me.
I'm quick to brush things off because my life is so obtuse sometimes.
I either omit and ditch the participation factor or risk it and
find myself vulnerable in sharing, automatically feeling like I've overshared.

Still.

I feel brave.

On her website, Jen shares this little nugget:

 I want our home to be lovely and comfortable and sacred. 

I hope folks leave our home more restored than when they walked in the door.

 -Jen Hatmaker

Well.

 I feel beyond restored and I was just in her backyard. 

"Don't waste the wait"

Earlier this week I gave in and emailed our agency asking them to contact Bulgaria for an update on our case.  I don't do this very often.  Why?  Why do I choose not to drive our agency insane? Because I know it only makes this more maddening when you ask and receive confirmation that there is no news.

Indeed, there is no news in regards to our case.  We continue to wait for our official referral and travel approval to visit our baby girl.

When I read those words, no news, I instantly felt peace.  

I was not expecting to feel peace. I was expecting to feel angry, frustrated, and irritated.  The emotions of adoption are like a merry-go-round.  They change as you go around and around.  

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus  -Philippians 4:7

Peace. Calm. Relief.  I felt all of these as I read the email from our agency.  

And I felt guilty.

Guilty that no news was a relief.  How is that possible?  How was this static information bringing me peace?

I think it is because I need a few moments off the ledge.  WE need to be off the ledge for a bit.  I need to experience a few days where I am not jumping sky high every time the phone rings.  We need to be fully (or at least mostly, lets be honest) engaged in conversations, events, and well- life. I need to put my phone down and stop refreshing my email 5,394 times a day hoping for an update.  Especially when our agency will call not email.  

This wait.  Is hard.  We are at the mercy of someone else.  Surrendered. Paralyzed?  Yes. And sometimes, I don't like it.

As we've endured this wait, I have been privileged to take part in an adoption group for Bulgaria. There has been a lot of movement with cases.  A lot.  While this is promising, it can be heartbreaking when it is not your case.  You feel a split emotion of "YAY and BOO" at the same exact time.  Yesterday, someone took the time to recognize those of us that have not experienced movement.  In short:

For those of you waiting, please don't be discouraged. Hang in there...and don't waste the wait.

Don't waste the wait.  

Oh.  OHHHHHHH.  

There is purpose in our waiting.  We knew this before, but this statement- THIS statement was like the Gibb's head-smacking thing on NCIS. 

Duh.

The wait has allowed us to reflect and cherish our adoption process with AJ.  It has reminded us that much more of what a miracle he is.

The wait has allowed me to tear up when I look at pictures of our process thus far.  It has allowed me to tear up when I hear the phrase "sin on a plate" and see chocolate cupcakes.  It reminds me of the friends who baked up a storm for our bake sale.

The wait makes me tear up remembering the enormous amount of donations we received for our first (yes, I said first-that's some foreshadowing for you) rummage and our auction fundraiser . The generosity and split-second "we want to help" makes me choke up.  Every.single.time.

The wait reminds us to trust God and remember that we are not going at this alone.  His plan is far bigger than ours and we don't need to understand all of it.  Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And yes, I realize this is a cliche.  And sometimes NO, I don't want to hear it. But we know in our hearts, this is exactly where we are supposed to be.

The wait is giving us time to navigate the additional paperwork, fees, and other costs that have entered our adoption process.

The wait allowed Jeremy to have a much needed shoulder surgery.

The wait is making me squeeze AJ harder and give him Mama smooches more often.

The wait is allowing us to prepare for AJ's upcoming surgery and attack some relatively new needs and issues in relation to his disabilities.

The wait has allowed us to witness family and friends celebrating our baby girl's birthday without ever laying eyes on her.  That's love people.

The wait has made me appreciate the friends who have written, printed, and signed 3,239 reference letters for us as we plug away applying for grants.  Your time and efforts are precious and yes, it makes me cry.  Every.single.time.

The wait has brought texts and Facebook messages from friends who remember "Wednesdays" were days to hold our breath hoping for news on our case.

The wait has brought emails and phone calls saying, "I was just thinking about Mimi".

The wait has enabled this little girl to have a massive wardrobe thanks to the generosity of people wanting to help.

The wait has allowed us to build stronger friendships.

The wait has given us time to learn so much about AJ and given him time to communicate to us that he knows what is going on.  He knows he has a sister.  He knows.

The wait allowed me to finish my Bachelor's degree.

The wait allowed Jeremy to take a much needed break from his NP program and secure clinicals for the next semester.  A.blessing.

The wait has allowed us to help a friend in need.

What am I saying?  The wait hasn't been all that bad friends.  I don't want to waste the wait.  I don't want to sit on a ball on the couch bawling my eyes out every day because my baby girl isn't home.  Some days I'd like to.  But I don't want the wait to paralyze us either.  We are trusting that she is happy, loved, and being well cared for.

This wait is making the moment we get to hold her in our arms even sweeter.  

None of this is any comparison to our forever with her.

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.

Surreal

Hello Friends.

It's been a while, eh?

I've been contemplating a post.  I suspect this is what happens often in the minds of bloggers.

The norm goes something like this...There you are, walking through the aisles of Target when suddenly a blog post title pops into your head.  The post begins to write itself in your head as you continue shopping, etc...

Except there haven't been any moments like that in a while.  I have so much to say, but no way to put it in any type of order right now.  So know this friends...it will come.

But I do want to share something with you...

Yesterday AJ walked into the bathroom and got into the bin of things I have sitting on top of the counter.  I heard something knock into the wall in his bedroom and went flying in his room only to smell something.  It was sweet, sultry, earthy, spicy, and delightful all at the same time.  But I couldn't find the source.  What IS that, I thought?

AJ had wrapped my perfume bottle in his blanket.

This may seem like a ridiculously simple event, but it speaks volumes.  At some point in my mid-twenties I became very practical about girly things.  My perfume collection narrowed to two, and has since narrowed to one selection.  I'm sure that perfume normally does not last as long as this particular bottle has.  It is the scent I have worn the six years AJ has been home.

For AJ, the scent coming from that bottle was his Mommy.  AJ is very sensitive and acutely aware of two senses: touch and smell.  Just as we carried AJ's baby blanket back and forth from Guatemala so the dogs could get used to his smell, AJ learned what his Momma smells like.  He couldn't hear me and couldn't really see me, he could only feel and smell me.

He smiled and giggled when I found the bottle.  He picked it up and handed it to me.

Translation: Here Mommy.  I love you.  This is you, and I love it, so I love you.  Don't ever change it ok?  Ok.

Sometimes I have to pinch myself and make sure that all of this is real.  That this little boy is here, mine, and that the past six years have really passed.  Moments like this make it so new.  I have to pinch myself in realizing things will soon change.  My heart aches for Mimi to smell me too.  Does that sound weird?  I know it does. But it makes so much sense to me.  I'm trying to think of the perfect thing to leave with her when we visit.  A bear? A blanket?  A piece of clothing?  I don't know.  I suppose I'll have to decide spur of the moment with the orphanage staff as to what we can have "stay with her" and only her for that month between trips.  This season of waiting is incredibly hard and surreal all at the same time.  How is that possible?  I don't know, I can only testify that it IS.

I often wonder if AJ loves us.  And sure, to the outside world he does and he's happy so it appears that all is well in his world.  But recently, I've struggled deeply with his inability to communicate certain things. I want to know when my baby hurts, when he loves, when he is angry, and when he is scared.

So for him to explain how he feels to me, in his own way, well...that was a very real moment for me folks.

Strength will rise as we wait...

Things on the adoption front have been seriously quiet.  

Which had me in a quite a funk-a-dunk and gave me way too much time to building worry, anxiety, and allow bad thoughts to swirl in my brain.  Negative thoughts.  Worry?  Did I mention worry?  

Here's a look at what has transpired since the last timeline I posted
(new developments are in red):

March 17th-Officially decided to adopt again
March 17th-25th Explored and prayed over all adoption options (domestic, international, foster)
April 27th-Reviewed country choices for our first placement agency of choice, All God's Children International (AGCI) in Oregon
April 28th-Submitted free pre-application for All God's Children International-chose the Philippines
May 1st- Began working on gathering medical letters in support of Jeremy's stable health
May 2nd-Touch base with our homestudy agency Special Children Inc. (SCI)
May 7th-Jeremy's personal medical letter sent to AGCI
May 14th-Confirmation-alll medical letters have arrived at AGCI, approved by social services department, but still encouraged to choose another country-we choose Bulgaria
May 31st-Touch base again with SCI
June 7th-Phone call with Deb, our social worker/case worker at SCI (we used her with AJ's adoption too!)
June 8th-(Our Anniversary) SCI Homestudy Packet arrives
June 14th-Announce to family and friends we are adopting again!
June 20th-Creation of our Adoption Puzzle Fundraiser on GoFundMe
June 20th-First puzzle piece donation made!
June 20th-Submitted formal application and fee to AGCI
June 21st-Received initial call about a little girl in Bulgaria who needs a home through another placement agency-Americans for International Aid and Adoption (AIAA) in Michigan
June 24th-Received official referral information for Mimi
June 25th-Submission of referral documents to pediatrician, ophthalmologist, University of Minnesota International Adoption Clinic, PT, SLP, and Vision Specialist
June 27th-Accepted Mimi's referral
June 27th-Letter of Intent specific to Mimi signed and notarized
June 28th-(AJ's birthday) Announced Mimi's referral publicly
June 28th-Mailed Letter of Intent to Secretary of State in Madison, WI to be apostilled
July 3rd-Received apostilled Letter of Intent from Madison
July 5th-Mailed apostilled Letter of Intent to AIAA
July 5th-AIAA Packet with Formal Application arrives
July 8th-Letter of Intent is received at AIAA
July 19th-Confirmation that Letter of Intent is in Bulgaria with the translator
July 23rd-SCI Homestudy visit/75% of required documents, including formal application and fee are submitted
July 25-27th-Operation Mimi Rummage!
July 25th-Formal application, fee, and other forms sent to AIAA
July 30th-Officially place our application on indefinite hold with AGCI and inform them of Mimi and AIAA
July 30th-Confirmation from AIAA that Letter of Intent is at the Ministry of Justice (MOJ) in Bulgaria
July 30th-MOJ requests POA, Declaration, and Personal Statement to be completed and submitted ASAP
August 7th-Dossier packet received via email from AIAA

August 22nd-MOJ sends urgent request for Intermediary Agreement to be completed and submitted the same day

August 23rd-Manual Fingerprinting (Round 1) completed and sent to the FBI for clearance
August 28th-MOJ approves our application and documents submitted thus far.  Dossier is now required to be in Bulgaria within 6 months from this date, by February 28th.

September 28th Operation Mimi "Apps & Bids" Adoption Fundraiser
Homestudy report completed
Apply for adoption grants and loans
I-800A Apply to USCIS for Immigration Approval & Obtain Fingerprinting Appointment DateDigital Fingerprinting Appointment (Round 2)
Wait on immigration approval of I-800A immigration application, called the I-171H (30-90 days)
Dossier documents sent to Madison for apostilling Dossier put together and sent to AIAA
Dossier sent from AIAA to Bulgaria
Dossier logged in at the Ministry of Justice (takes 2-4 weeks from arrival)
Travel to visit
One month lapses
Travel again to pick-up-Mimi!

We are on pin and needles waiting for our homestudy report.  We are stuck.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect $200.  Stuck.  

We received word in August that we were "pre-approved" by the Bulgarian Ministry of Justice.  Wahoo!  What we didn't expect was that the "6 months to complete your paperwork" changed.  We were given more time.  Instead of 6 months from the Letter of Intent (June), it was now 6 months from this pre-approval.  So this gives us til February.  Which, has become a blessing because 1) we still don't have our homestudy 2) we have not applied for immigration approval which could take 3 months to process and approve.  We were given more time.
We also received word in August that we would not be receiving anymore information on Mimi until we travel to visit her.  I do believe my heart broke when I read that email.  We are learning, in process, how vastly different this adoption is from AJ's.  It's given a whole new meaning to the word diversity in adoption. 

The logical explanation of this is:
When AJ was in the orphanage in Guatemala, the attorney who owned the orphanage was his guardian.  Therefore, it was her call as to what we received in regards to pictures, medical updates, etc.  I called the monthly pictures my 30-day fuel.  Most of the time, the pictures came monthly.  They made me cry and smile simultaneously.  They helped us feel connected to our son and gave us fuel to keep forging ahead.

In Bulgaria, the government is the guardian of orphaned children.  Information is released for referral purposes only.  When we visit her, we will spend time with her and her staff at the orphanage.  I am talking HOURS people, not a quick stop.  Hours over DAYS. They will observe us with Mimi.  We will get to ask all the questions I have saved on a word document that keeps growing in word count daily.  Until then, we treasure the information, pictures, and videos we have thus far.  They are precious and we know we are blessed to have so much information on her.  

Bulgarian's government guardianship is also the reason why we cannot share her with all of you.  This piece of her story is sometimes the hardest-in the moment.  She is so REAL.  I can assure you of that.  However, there is a piece that seems to be missing.  I'm not allowed to send her photos to have them printed anywhere.  Tomorrow will include a trip to Target to purchase a new color cartridge for the printer in the closet.  She's in our hearts, so she's going to be on our walls.

And, as if this needed a cherry, we are not allowed to send her a care package.  I had prayed for the right song to sing into some stuffed animal so that she could hear my voice.  The word "hear" holds such meaning to both of us for so many reasons.  When AJ was in Guatemala, we were allowed to send him a care package.  One.gallon.ziploc.bag. Somehow, I shoved a baby photos album, rattle, onesies (plural), and a lot more into that bag.  I was hoping for, at the very least, the ziploc experience again.  When I asked the question, I knew the answer.  But my heart still needed confirmation. Stupid heart.

While in the midst of our homestudy requirements we were required to complete a certain number of hours of adoption education/training.  This process rocked both Jer and I.  We heard a lot we already knew, have, and continue to experience.  But we also learned a lot that made us go, "Ohhhhhhhhhh!"  It caused a lion in me to awake and process some feelings regarding AJ's attachment process and how it has gone well, had its struggles, and how it still continues, 6 years post-adoption.  AJ came home at chronological age 13 months-assumed age due to orphanage care 7/8 months-arrived home and evaluated at a newborn level.   Mimi is most certainly not going to be at any of those stages.  She is a toddler.  And that, well that makes me ache for her.  No child should spend the bulk of their early years, ANY YEARS, in an orphanage.  I digress...

I am processing feelings of knowing full well this precious love, whom we love already, will probably not love us at first sight.  She might hate us.  

She will push us away.  Of this I am certain.

She will go through trauma of leaving the only thing she's ever known besides a hospital and doctor's visits and be thrust in the arms of this weepy loving couple who want to dote on her.  Dote, shmote.  The reaction begins quickly.  AJ reacted, and so will she.  The grieving begins sooner than later.

And the only thing I can do, half-way across the world is pray for her sweet soul.  Don't misunderstand me, prayer is POWER. But my Mama heart wants to pray with her living, breathing sweet being in my arms.  

When things are quiet, motionless, and even stagnant in this process, it is so easy to become discouraged.  To question.  To lose faith.  To ask the question-why are we doing this?

And then I remember that this was no accident.  I had a conversation with God telling him I was putting our family's future in his hands and the next morning my husband woke up and said he was ready to adopt again.  Days after announcing our adoption plans we receive a referral.  I create a puzzle fundraiser, the first of many fundraising ventures to bring our baby girl home, staring at the screen, terrified to hit "POST".  I do, and God provides through our amazing family and friends.

We are waiting.  While that is incredibly hard, He is building strength in us while we wait.  Perhaps this quiet time is to encourage us to cherish this time as a family of 3.  Perhaps it is to prepare AJ, as best we can, for his world and our world to be rocked when we become a family of 4.  Perhaps its to give us time to prepare Mimi's bedroom as it is now a requirement for our dossier to have photos of her completed, ready-for-her room.  Perhaps its to allow us time to gather the funds needed to bring our precious girl home.

Even though my heart doesn't want to wait, I know it is with purpose that we wait.

**Mimi has her own playlist-some of you have been asking me what's "on" her playlist thus far, I've posted it in the right sidebar.

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