Sadness, Joy, and Awe

Yesterday when I got home from work, I had a package and a letter from AAI, the agency.  In the package was a big, gorgeous coffee table book called "Faces of Layla".  This book is available for purchase from their webstore and all profits go to benefit Layla House, the orphanage where our kids are.  As I looked through it, tears were just running down my face.  Page after page showed gorgeous photos of these beautiful, resilient, courageous, funny kids living with so very little in a place so very far away.  Every one has lost their parents and yet they are the lucky ones who are safe and fed and cared for with love every day.  There were photos of their caregivers too;  the teachers, cooks, laundresses, doctors, nurses, social workers, and volunteers who care for the needs of these kids until they find families.  Also, there were terrific images of Addis Abbaba and the orphanage itself. 

My heart felt shredded.  I was filled with sadness, joy, and awe.  Sadness because there is so much loss for these kids, and for the millions of orphans around the world.  Children who are abandoned, abused, trafficked, thrown away.  I can barely comprehend their suffering and I completely cannot comprehend the adults who willingly participate in creating more suffering for them.  Joy because two of these millions of orphaned kids get to be mine!  Brian and I get to travel to Layla, meet all the children, and bring two of them into our lives forever.  Our family will forever be changed and the lives of those around us will forever be changed by their presence.  And awe because... how did I ever get here?  How in the world did this passion for abandoned children on the other side of the globe just show up in my heart and pull me toward them?  And even more unbelievable, how did the same passion show up in Brian's heart?  This was nowhere in our plan!  And I really need new carpet!  And poor Brian used to dream of a sweet ski boat.  To me, it is nothing short of a miracle.  We are simply not the same people we used to be.  God has changed everything in us, for whatever reason He has, and the "desires of our hearts" are not what they used to be.  We often look at each other and say, "We're really doing this, aren't we?"  because we are both kind of shocked still, but there's just something compelling us.  It's truly awesome (which my mom says is the most overused word in the English language, but completely accurate in this context).

So I'm sitting there poring over this book with tears and snot running down my face, overwhelmed with emotion and the power of the Holy Spirit, and I remembered there was also a letter from the agency, so I opened it.  It was a bill.  Thanks, Lord!  Hahaha, very funny.  You really have a terrific sense of humor.

This was a big one, too, which usually means something's happening to require more money.  So I called and sure enough, all our paperwork in Ethiopia was submitted to court last week and we are awaiting a court date (hopefully in the next 2, possibly 3 weeks).  Terrific news, once again, faster than we anticipated.

And then the kids came home from school, dragging in most of the foot of snow on the ground, and chaos (aka life) ensued.  It's important to document those divine moments of sadness/joy/awe because they are brief but powerfully illuminating.  I hope you have one today.



 

Biometrics!

I am terribly sorry to say that our biometrics appointment was extremely anticlimactic.  We arrived 10 minutes early for our appointment, running into no traffic, and although it was in a pretty rough neighborhood, we also saw no panhandlers, drug dealers, prostitutes, or crimes in progress.  You see at least two of those just going to a Tigers game!  We went in and there were many normal humans working there.  It took four of them (wearing latex gloves and guns)  to get us through security metal detectors and xray machines.  Then we went into another room, showed a very nice human lady our appointment papers and passports, and filled out another paper with the exact same information that came on the appointment paper they mailed to us.  Then they took us separately into another room.  Brian was sure the body cavity searchers were back there, but nope, just very boring (human) lab techs with computers and scanners.  They took multiple prints of each finger multiple times and said, "That's it.  Have a nice day."  No blindfolds, no abductions, no truth serum, no torture, no Jack Bauer.

So now we wait.  All this paperwork and fingerprinting was to get approval of our I600A, a document that allows you to get a visa for the kids.  After we get the approval, there's more paperwork and waiting on the US government.  All our paperwork from the adoption agency is in Ethiopia right now being translated and prepared for court and we are waiting to hear from them that they've submitted it to court and are waiting for a court date.

I'm pretty happy right now because there's nothing else I can do.  Everything is in the hands of God, Homeland Security and the Ethiopian government.  It's a lot like the second trimester of pregnancy, where I wasn't panicking about miscarrying anymore and it was soon to worry about labor.  I'm just sort of hanging out and thinking about what colors to paint their rooms!

Good news and better news!

The good news is that we got notification today that all our documents are on their way to Ethiopia!  We expect a court date in 5-6 weeks.  Everything is moving smoothly.  It is due, in no small part, to Meredith's prayers.  She always blurts out in the middle of our mealtime prayers "God, help our adoption to go good!"  It always derails Brian's eloquent prayer, but I think it's sweet and it's definitely sincere.  She always prays with one eye open.  When I asked her why she didn't close both her eyes to pray instead of squinting like a pirate, she looked at me like I was an idiot and said, "Mom... it's DARK in there!" 

The better news is that Brian got a contract job for his video business, Riveting Media, at his previous employer.  He will be working at Forest Post Productions four days a week and continuing working at home with his other clients on the fifth day (and probably some nights and weekends).  The money will be great and steady, but he will also be able to continue his work with his existing clients that  he's worked really hard to acquire.  It just couldn't be any better!  Well, it could be just a LITTLE bit better... he was feeling really lucky on his way home from getting that job so he bought a lottery ticket.  We'll let you know if we win!  :)  

Adoption Bureaucracy Part 2 (Brian's version)

I know this will come as a huge surprise to many of you but Joan has a slight tendency to over-exaggerate some details in a shameless attempt to try out her comedy.  I will gladly jump through a few extra hoops and fill out some extra forms to keep the ball rolling smoothly.  Unfortunately, I suspect that the local Immigration office is going to be crawling with very large men with extremely large hands just looking for someone like me to force to submit to a full body cavity search.  Especially after we are now on the Homeland Security watch list thanks to Joan's subversive post.  We'll keep you up to date on all the interesting details soon.

Adoption Bureaucracy

Last week we filled out another bunch of documents from the agency confirming our acceptance of Tinsaye and Solomon, our acknowledgment of their genetic condition, and a bunch of documents showing that we have medical, dental, ophthalmic, educational, and counseling support in place for all of us.  We realized (AGAIN) that no one seems to care if you are in any way capable of parenting a biological child, but if you want to raise an orphaned child who has nothing, you need to prove to everyone in two countries what an amazing parent you are.  Can you imagine what it would be like if parents who had just had a baby were required to PROVE to multiple bureaucrats that they were financially and emotionally capable of raising that baby before they left the hospital?  

We also got the addendum from our home study agency stating that we were qualified to raise kids with disabilities (whatever) and forwarded that on to USCIS.  Speaking of bureaucracy, USCIS is United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (used to be INS or Immigration and Naturalization Services) and it is a part of the Office of Homeland Security.  When we sent our initial application to adopt an orphaned child/ren to them we were told MULTIPLE times to send it ONLY to a Texas drop box.  All applications must go through the TX center and then are forwarded on to regional offices, including the one in Detroit.  So we mailed our app to TX, they mailed it immediately back to the office 12 miles away from our house.  The Detroit office mailed us confirmation and told us to wait for our "biometrics appointment"... fingerprinting and God knows what else.  Retinal scans?  Palm prints?  Voice IDs?  Seems a little "24", but we just do what we're told.  So this week we got our "biometrics appointment" from the USCIS office in Vermont!  I'm thankful we don't have to go to VT for our invasive and ridiculous biometrics appointment, we just have to go to our Friendly Neighborhood Detroit USCIS office.  Wondering why someone in VT needed to schedule appointments for the office in Detroit???  Us too.  I'm pretty sure, however, that there are no actual humans at the Detroit office, since no one has ever known a human to answer the phone and clearly no humans are there to schedule appointments.  We will find out for sure on February 23 when we go for our appointment.  Maybe they'll blindfold us and drive us to an undisclosed location where Jack Bauer will interrogate us, perform our "biometrics", and then blindfold us again and dump us in a Walmart parking lot.  After that we'll probably get a letter from the Wyoming USCIS office telling us that we need to resubmit all paperwork due to a revision of Form I600A mandated by Congress last week. 

You know what?  It's still better than morning sickness, stretch marks, maternity pants!