What's Going On

My sister emailed me last night and asked, "How am I supposed to know what's going on if you don't update your blog? Are you excited? Or just overwhelmed?"

Yes.

Frankly, you would not even believe the week we're having. For those people who've been to World's of Fun in Kansas City, picture the Mamba. And then picture it with only that really big arc, over and over. There's your clue.

For the rest of you.....rollercoaster. A big one. Which, incidentally, means the highs are really high. Unfortunately, the lows keep coming.

Let's just say.....taxes. Potential sale of a company. Picking up a new child. Dirty house. Traveling husband. Adolescent children. Fear of the unknown. Lost money. Credit card max outs. And God arriving on the scene at just the right time, because, of course, He was never gone in the first place. In addition to the camp physicals, 3rd grade programs, orthodontia appointments and random 30 mile trips to Wal-mart (I know, I'm not even going to talk about it right now.) that are my typical existence.

And on that note: new topic. Fresh Produce clothing.
I got an email a couple weeks ago asking me to review an item of my choice and the skeptic in me said, yeah right. I get asked to read books for my blog. No one offers me clothes. Except, lo and behold, my new favorite skirt showed up in the mail on Tuesday and it has been on my body ever since. And I'm not just saying that because someone offered me free clothes. It is seriously my new favorite item. It is not the color I expected. It is shorter than I expected. But it goes with everything. I'll tell you more about it in a new post, either tonight or tomorrow because they obviously want me to linky it up. But it was a decent segue into my real topic of the day.

Actually, no it isn't. I thought it was because my brain works like that these days, but you might not get the connection. Anyhoo....

Ethiopia.

I am dreading the flight. I'm dreading the black boogers. I'm dreading communicating with my non-English speaking child. I'm dreading going back without my friends. I'm dreading brushing my teeth with bottled water.

But let me tell you what I'm not dreading.

Wearing two skirts and one pair of shoes for a week. Not wearing make-up or doing my hair. Springing my kid out of there. Exorbitantly tipping the coffee man. Over paying the street vendor. Bringing shoes for my Ethiopian friends. I'm not dreading handing out 100 dresses to little girls who have never had a clothing choice in their lives and 75 shirts to little boys who have never owned anything without a hole.

I'm looking forward to practicing generosity and lowering my expectations.

Ethiopia wears off over time. Unimportant things seem important again. And I'm ready for my crash course in "we have it so good."

I'm going home.

Fasten Your Seatbelt.......

........Mama's going to Ethiopia!

Tonight's the Night.

Every moment of the last nine month has led up to tonight.
I pray that tomorrow I wake to an email declaring that Iris is cleared to travel.
And I find myself sobbing, because tonight, one last time, her mother has to forever surrender her rights to her daughter.
Oh dear God, the tragedy of it all.
How can one celebrate while another cries?
Join me in prayer tonight for this brave woman. 11:30 central.

Stollen, word for word, from Millions of Miles

Ripped in it's entirety from here, because I'm past desperate and well on my way to crazy and too tired to have any humility or dignity left. You can consider this me, begging. (Enormous thanks to Tami, Andrea and Sara and probably some others who are currently escaping my mind---crikey! and my MIL who brought dinner today--who have already picked up on my verbal and non-verbal crazy eyed cues and pleas for help.)

Here, gonna put up a picture because for some reason people link through more often when I do that.

Having been through both the adoption experience and the child birth experience, I found that all kinds of people know how to take care of you after you give birth, but hardly anyone knows the right things to do when you bring home your adopted child.  Most people also don't know how to respond appropriately when you tell them that you are adopting in the first place.  This is meant to be a guide for the friends and families of adoptive families in the praying/planning/dreaming phase as well as families in process and newly home.  Link it up, cut and paste, email it out to your family.  I will say all the things to your family that you are afraid to say or maybe that you yourself don't even know that you need yet! (I don't mind being the heavy!)

1.  When your loved one comes to you with the news that they are planning to adopt:

• Do not say, "Oh, don't give up trying for 'your own'" or "Don't you want to have one of 'your own' instead? Adoption is not something people enter into lightly.  And prospective adoptive families already do consider this child that they do not even know as 'their own'.  By saying this to an adoptive family, it insinuates that you will not be accepting their new addition as your 'own' grandchild/neice/nephew/etc.  Also- many families that consider adoption have been through long periods of time dealing with infertility and adoption may be a very emotional decision.  It signifies the end of one dream and the beginning of a new dream.  Supporters need to be very sensitive to this and be positive! 
• Share your concerns about the finances of adoption, but do it in a non-judgemental way.  Yes, adoption is expensive.  But you need to understand that there are grants, fundraisers, and ways to aquire the money.  So instead of looking at the people who want to adopt and saying, "Oh my gosh- you are so poor, you will never be able to afford this!" say something like, "I know that this will be expensive, how can we help you plan a fundraiser?"
• Do not recall in gory detail every terrible adoption story you've ever heard. This is the equivalent of telling a pregnant woman that her baby will be born with 12 arms and she will be in labor for 3 weeks and her boobs will fall all the way down to the ground after breastfeeding.  Just don't do it.
• If the family is adopting internationally, do not condescendingly talk about how there are so many kids here in America who need home.  Each person needs to do what feels right for their family.  Sometimes that means adopting domestically, and sometimes that means going international.  Either way, a child who needs a home and a family will get one.  Focus on that fact and leave your personal opinions about which you think is best to yourself.  Remember- they are BOTH awesome (and BOTH necessary!) 

2.  Once families are in process:

• Check in with the adoptive family's (from here on out called A.F.) emotions!  Adoption can be a very emotional process.  There are days where you are in the dumps and days when you want to celebrate.  Give the A.F. the space to talk about their feelings and their frustrations.  When they call super excited and say, "I got my I-171h", pretend like you know what they are talking about and jump up and down and throw a party.
•  Throw a baby shower just as if the A.F. was pregnant.  Make a big stinkin' deal over the mom to be.  Obviously, don't play the how big is your belly game.  But do everything else the same!
• Support A.F. fundraisers.  They need your help!  Better yet- host a fundraising dinner, pancake breakfast, auction, raffle, etc. to help the family raise the money to bring their child home.
• If there are other children already in the A.F. offer to babysit them leading up to traveling so that mom and dad get a few last dates in before the new addition. 
• If the adoption is international, educate yourself about the child's birth country.
• If the adopted child will be of a different race, educate yourself about transracial families by reading articles, books, etc. Just googling transracial families will bring up a wealth of information.   
• Offer to keep siblings, pets and housesit for the A.F. when they are traveling. 

3.  Once families are home:

• All the same rules apply as when you bring a baby home from the hospital.  Bring food, offer to coordinate meals and food dropoffs for church groups.  Come over and clean.  Wash clothes and put away laundry. Wash dishes.  Do not believe the A.F. when they say they do not need help.  THEY DO!
• Respect the A.F's rules regarding holding their new addition.  Many families may wish to not have any outsiders (this includes Grandma!) holding their child so that this child who has been with many caregivers can learn who mom and dad are.  A.F's do not do this to hurt your feelings.  They are only doing what they feel is best for their new child.  Do not make them feel bad about this.
• Also- sometimes to foster attachment in our adopted kiddos, the parent's don't want to leave them with a sitter or family member for a long period of time after coming home.  Understand that this is not because the family member or sitter is not trusted or loved.  It is just to help give the new child the right sense of family and permanance.
• Offer to run the carpool, run errands, cut the grass, babysit the siblings, pick up items at the grocery.  New moms are notoriously sleep deprived- even if this is the 10th child they've adopted.  Drop over a huge cup of Starbucks.  Say hello at the door with said cup of coffee and leave.
• Give gift cards for takeout and pizza- so that long after the food welcome wagon has stopped coming, the family can still eat without having to cook!  Seriously- who wants to cook when you've been up all night with a crying baby?
• Even though the A.F. did not give birth, families who are bringing home new children will be exhausted from long nights in the hospital (domestic adoption), long flights or a week or two in a foreign land with a new baby who has most likely been screaming non-stop because the child has no idea what is happening to them. Give the A.F. the forum to share how ragged they are.  Do not judge them.  Every single part is not going to be perfect.  Let them get how hard it all is off their chest without feeling guilty about it. 
• Watch for post adoption depression.  It is a real thing.  Just because a woman isn't flooded with pregnancy hormones, doesn't mean that she can't develop depression.   There is a lot of leadup going into an adoption and sometimes the reality is tough and can lead to lots of emotional ugliness.  Be supportive. 
• Do not expect adoptive parents to be "super parents".  I find that there is a huge stigma that adoptive families should have it all together because they "paid a lot" for their children. All families are on a learning curve- no matter how they got their children.  Do not be quick to dispense advice if you've never adopted a child (because parenting an adopted child in the early days is a lot different than a biological child), but be quick to say, "How can I help?"- Then be willing to actually help!
• Most of all, share in the joy that comes with bringing a new child into the family! 

If you've done a post about this topic- or want to write a post about this topic and put in ideas that I've left off- PLEASE link it up!

My April 2005

For seven years, maybe more, I knew I'd sat out a pregnancy. At the time I thought I was just too tired to deal with it.

And I was.

But there was a little girl that I now know was being born in Ethiopia who would fill that slot. For four years I referred to her as My April 2005.

Princess is June 2001, Frodo is May 2003, Charming is March 2007. Do you see the pattern? Most people don't and think I'm kind of a freak that I do. I'm OK with that. But I am asking you to acknowledge that I saw and felt a gap and looked for the missing link.

Today I call her several names. You know of her as Iris.

In September I made a post on Facebook, if not my blog, that said something like "today is the day we have chosen for our daughter's birthday." It was easiest, having her turn 6 in September so that she wouldn't be an old kindergartener.

Aside: after having met her? The child is 35 in a 7 year old body. I wouldn't have been fooling anyone.

But in my heart, she was my April 2005. Not because she was. She was "6 years." The birthday we'd been given as best guess was May 1, 2005 and that was close enough for me.

And then a couple months ago I got a short note that said her birthday had been determined to be April 10, 2005.

After so many filled out forms with September 7, after best guesses at May 1, after 6 going on 36, she is the child I've waited for.

And, dang it, I miss her.

 Today she is among friends.

But missing her birthday today hurts me.

The sun comes up
Its a new day dawning
Its time to sing your song again
What ever may pass and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes

Bless the lord oh my soul
Oh my soul
Worship his holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I worship your holy name
--Matt Redman

Jealous Much? Green Just isn't Your Color.

On March 13, a fellow adoptive mama asked me, "Are we hoping to be submitted the 21st or is the 28th more realistic?"
My response was, "I'm hoping for the 14th. But, yeah, the 28th is more realistic so let's check our email tomorrow, hope for the 21st and expect the 28th." Big laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha....

On the 14th, late in the day, I got an email that said, "You were the only family submitted to embassy today."

I was floored. And so excited. And paralyzed because I didn't know what to tell my friends. There were nine families that went to court at the same time as we did. Four on our date (three plus us), one on the 9th and two (plus two more that we didn't meet) on the 11th. We have walked most of this later process together. Some were passed in court, some (including us) were not. Some got court decrees sooner. Some (us included) were delayed. We all got birth certificates on the same day. All nine families. And then came the info about the passports. Three families (us included) didn't get one. A week later, all the kids went to see the embassy doctor. When I and a few others got the note letting us know that our MOWA letter was in ahead of time, I was whooping it up. (We might get these kids home in April yet!) So submission, ahead of the pack, left me a little floored. Why, when I'd been behind for so long, had I rocketed forward? And how did I tell my friends?

And in the midst of it all I told God, "I know some part of me is going to try to take credit for this, so I'm going to go ahead and repent now and give You all the glory."

Yes and amen.

March 21, I got a note from the embassy letting me know they had my stuff.
As did a couple of other families, those submitted on the 21st.
On March 22nd, I got an email requesting a birth parent interview.
On March 23, 24, and 25th I waited to see if we would get our requested days April 2 or 3. Because if we did, we'd be on a plane on April 5.

That would be today.

I did not get that email.

On March 26th I got the email saying our interview was scheduled for the first available time slot: April 12.

I rejoiced. 

March 26th was the same day one of the families submitted on the 21st got a request for interview. By the time they got theirs scheduled, it was for April 16th.
And then they got another email that said, they'd opened another interview slot and they could have it. April 6.

I deflated a little bit. Though SUPREMELY excited for my friend, part of me said, "hey, wait...."
(as always, there is more to this story, but it isn't my story to tell)

So, as all this is coming down, another friend gets submitted on the 28th.
She woke up yesterday morning to an email that said, your interview is scheduled for TODAY.
She woke today to an email that said, "you have been cleared."
She is leaving on a jet plane on Saturday.
And though SUPREMELY excited for my friend, there is this little part of me that is saying, "what the....?"

Then God reminded me that I was happy with my dates before people started rocketing ahead of me.

I'm not ready to go anyway.

But that has not necessarily slowed the formation of tears.

As an aside, the three people that stood in court with me on Dec 30, were only submitted to embassy yesterday. I have NOTHING to complain about. I do know that.

And I'm terrified.
And I have so much to do.
But I'm going to miss my little girl's birthday.
And what is she going to think when the people who were there with us come and get their kids and we.....don't?

And we know that all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28

Where We Are

Today we found out that this little girl:

Is one step closer to coming home.
We were submitted (and I'm assuming accepted) to embassy today.
Which means....it's all in my government's hands now.

Within two weeks they should notify me that they have our paperwork. Hopefully within a week of that, they will let me know they've scheduled an interview with her birthmother (probably three weeks out). And hopefully 24 hours after THAT, they will email and let me know I can come get her.

I'd be OK with skipping all the steps and proceeding directly to GO.
But today I rejoice, knowing we are one step closer.

The last time I had this much angst

I was in the seventh grade.
And though even this song brings back moments of pure horror, it still makes me smile.

For you, Bobby McFerrin.

I miss these girls

It just takes too long.
And I know all the right answers.
And I know that when she gets here it will be 1000X harder than having her there.
And I know that I should fully focus on the ones here.
I even know she would rather go home with her buddy than with me.
And even knowing all that...it just takes too long.
Because she is legally mine.
And a child belongs with her mother.
And since she can't be with her first mother, she should be with me.
And, dear Lord, it looks like she's going to be dumped in with us during the absolutely worst month it could possibly happen in.
I can't stand it.
It physically pains me to imagine her ripped from the life that she knows.
And it physically pains me to leave her there.
So pray with me to get her home.
Because living in the in between isn't good for either of us.
(Aside from the obvious Refiner's Fire that I am TRYING to survive.)
We need to rip that bandage off.

Paris

I'm struggling with something:

I want to go to Paris.

A couple weeks ago I read Melissa Faye Green's latest book, No Riding Bicycles in the House (Without A Helmet). In it she told her readers a conversation she had with her husband after her second (or third) child went away to college. It went something like: Remember how we adopted all these kids so that the emptying of our nest wouldn't hurt so bad? (Yes) It isn't working. (And we can't even go to Paris.)

You know how sometimes you are nudged in the same direction over and over again from so many different sources until you can no longer call it a coincidence? This morning God and I had a chat. It went something like this:

Me: But, but, but, but....
Him: nudge, nudge, nudge
Me: But GOD! I want to go to Paris!

I have never in my life desired to step foot in France. I'm a non-confrontational person. I heard once (or many times) that people in France hate Americans. Enough said. Won't go. I don't want to be yelled at in a foreign language. I don't want to try to ask directions from someone who is pretending they haven't learned English. And I wear yoga pants all the time. Fashion queen, I am not. France is not my destination of choice.

This isn't really about Paris. It's about a life. My life. And I want to spend it doing the things I want to do.

Me, me, me. For goodness sake: ME.

I want to dig in the dirt. I do not want to do the dishes. I want to raise up kids and send them on their way and welcome my little multi-colored grandbabies when they come back. And I want to go to Alaska and the Caribbean, and Indonesia and Easter Island. I intend to clock out of this dish doing, meal preparing, clutter redistributing, laundry doing, noise filtering stage of life in 14 years and clock into adventure.

These kids, they are my great adventure.

NUDGE.

But I suddenly want to go to Paris.....

It Was Bound to Happen

This morning I caught myself counting heads and coming up short. Very aggravated, until I figured out what was happening.

Yesterday in the library a friend of mine congratulated me on my 5th addition. I told her, "Oddly, it feels eerily similar to being the mother of four."

And then I went on to tell her not to judge me, but that I was OK with it. I was focusing on enjoying the four kids I could actually converse with.

I know. You can't believe I just wrote that, can you?

And then this morning it hit me. That all encompassing, heart gripping, stop me in my tracks, love for my little girl in Ethiopia.

Up until this point, well, after I met her and up until this point, I've been practicing the non-Biblical phrase "Love is a Choice." I was choosing to love her. Because, frankly, she didn't make it very easy. Everyone ELSE that meets her talks about how sweet she is. How kind she is. How puts others before herself. How easy she is to love.

I didn't see it.
That didn't come out right.
I didn't experience it.
That's a little closer.

I know, you look at that photo and say, "She looks like she likes you to me." I know. All three times she let me hold her, we got a photo. They are the ones we share.

Most of the pictures I have of her are taken with a telephoto lens because that is how close she let me much of the time. Except for right before we left each day and made her let us hug her. It was crazy.

I could tell that she was kind to the other kids. That she took care of those younger. That she would rather not be the focus of attention. And, don't get me wrong, she is a firecracker. She has spunk that will serve her well in a family of seven. She's independent. She's fierce. She doesn't take any crap.

 Look at that face. She will not be someone's doormat. I love that.

But she isn't likely to let you know she needs you.

That's harder for this mama to take.


She let everyone in, but us. And I can rationalize it and see that she knows we're the parents so we are the only ones that "aren't safe" to let her walls come down. At least not yet. And I don't even fault her for it. Nor do I need you to tell me all the reasons this is healthy. My ego can take it. But it was a rough two weeks that I never want to repeat. It sucks to be the one person in the city that your kid spends most of her time avoiding.

Each day I woke, ready to fight for her affections and each day, eventually, I just quit trying. I'd fall into bed crying, wake ready to win her over, only to end the day discouraged. Over and over and over again.

And I won't lie to you, it made the goodbye much easier. She wasn't about to let me see her cry and since she held it together, so did I, almost. I spent a lot more hours crying over the rejection than I did over the goodbye.

But today?

Today I can't stand it that I have a kid I can't hug. (Not that I'm sure she'd let me hug her anyway, but that's a bridge we'll cross later.)
I miss her.
I want her.
I would even face her rejection day upon day just to be with her.
I'm ready to pull down that wall brick by brick.
So that these moments:

...aren't the rare ones.