Saturday, October 22, 2011

(Not) Leaving on a Jet Plane

So I'm supposed to be on a plane at the moment.

I'm not.

This makes me very, very sad.  I really, really want to meet my son.  It horrifies me on  a daily basis that he's in an orphanage of all places, that he's not here with Jason and me like he should be.  I have a son and he has no idea who I am or that I am coming for him just as soon as I can.  (And let's face it, if he did know it would likely terrify him!).

However, there is a silver lining to everything. Now that we will be going at Thanksgiving, our work schedules are going to be much, much easier to deal with.  Also it will mean that there won't be quite so much time between our first and second/third trips, and that's a really good thing.  Also it means that I have just that much more time to get my house in some semblance of order (remember Irene?  I do).  I have a little more time to figure out the Cyrillic alphabet -- which is less like Greek than I had hoped.  We have time to get a few more things to bring to him.

So there are some benefits, I suppose.  Really there are.

But I still wish I were on a plane.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Booger, Booger, BOOGER

Not just any booger, mind you.  One of those really gooey, greenish, I-have-bronchitis nasty boogers.  Booger.

So we just got a call from our agency in the US and things are on hold...again!  It's not a complete disaster like it was a couple weeks ago, but I'm still thinking about flinging gross balls of snot across the ocean.

Max is fine, we're still going to visit him soon.  Just not this weekend.  (Why do I feel like I have used that exact phrasing not long ago?  Oh yeah, that's right.  Because I have.)

See the way it works in most of the Eastern European countries that I know of, is that when a child is orphaned/abandoned/taken away or whatever the situation is, that child has to be on a database for a certain amount of time before they are "released" for adoption.  In this case, due to well...bureaucracy (go figure!) turns out that Max won't be officially "available" until mid-November.  Which means that if we head over there this weekend, we could spend a week pressing our cold little noses against the orphanage windows and never get to see him.


Here's the irony of it all:

#1: We had originally wanted to go in November to begin with!
#2: We just rushed our visas (expensively!) to have them ready to go by Saturday.
#3: Said rushed visas are only good until November 20 -- giving us, oh, about a week between the time when Max becomes available and we officially need to be off foreign soil!

Our choices are:

#1: Squish a visit into that narrow time-frame.
#2: Eat the first visas, get new ones and go when it seems to work out best.

No idea what we're going to do yet.  Stay tuned.

Booger out.

Sunday, October 16, 2011


I have spent the last couple days close to tears.

Not because of something bad (for once!) and not because I am completely overwhelmed by my life (even though I am)...

...but because I am grateful.

Over the past couple days Jason and I have watched as family, friends, co-workers, and even a few strangers have contributed towards our fundraiser.  We never ever expected an outpouring like we have seen over this weekend.  We are stunned.  Overwhelmed.  Humbled.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.  From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Making it all happen

So here's the thing.  If you look over at the right side of the page you'll see the estimated costs of making this adoption happen.  It's actually a very conservative estimate, believe it or not.  The thing is...this adoption is going to take a chunk out of our bank account the size of a house down payment!

We have, oh, maybe 3 months to come up with the money...

So we are hoping that all of you guys can help us out a bit.

This is a puzzle of a major landmark from Max's hometown.  I'm not going to tell you what it is yet -- to find out you have to help us put it together!  For every $10 that you donate to our adoption fund (with the Chip-In off to the right or to us directly), we are going to write your name on the backs of 2 puzzle pieces.  (It's a 1000-piece puzzle, and even I don't write small enough to make it fit on one!).  When the puzzle is complete we will frame it in double sided glass so that he can always see all the people who helped to bring him home!

Money is tight everywhere, I get it.  But as we get into the Thanksgiving and Christmas season this year, I hope you'll think of us and a little boy who has spent his whole life in an orphanage.

Let's get him out of there as fast as we can!

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Life's a Chess Game

Forward one step, jump two spaces then promptly go left, move diagonally and finally move any direction you want-- but only one step at a time.

I think my life is like a chess game.

Which is pretty funny, since I am really miserable at chess.  I think I have trouble seeing the bigger picture on occasion.  Things like -- oh, if I take his pawn then in 2 moves I'll be wide open with a downed king.  That sort of stuff. 

So it's a little comforting to know that someone else seems to be playing my life chess game on my behalf.

Way back in May, when I first began to investigate the adoption of a waiting child, there was one boy's photo that popped out at me before any others.  I can't post it here yet, but I looked at Max and my heart sort-of melted.  He had ears like my Granaddaddy's and a smile that lit up the computer screen.  

My photo of this little guy allowed me to "see" all of the other children who needed parents as much as Jason and I need them.

Then, of course, I was a little bit pregnant (see the "Backstory" page up above) and my little chess pieces took a flying leap off the board.  As Jason and I returned to the idea of adopting, I looked at the photo of this little guy often -- along with a few others.  But the fact is that Jason and I have learned of necessity to be a little careful with our hearts and so we waited to settle on a single child until we were pretty far along in the process.

We narrowed it down to a couple little guys, each of them cuter than the last.

Then Max disappeared.

We didn't know what happened to him -- I rather hoped that he had been adopted by a local family, but no one knew anything.

We set our sights on Yale and kept going.  It's a strange thing to fall in love with someone's picture.  I've done it a few times now, after all, starting with Jason!  But the two of us fell in love with Yale, let me tell you!  When we got the call that his relatives had decided to adopt him, we were crushed.  Even knowing that this would work out better for him in the long run, we cried for a couple days straight.

When we were ready, the orphanage sent us information on two other little boys that are there right now.

One of them was Max.

Someone is playing chess with my life, and I promise you that it isn't me.  For the last several years Jason and I have asked ourselves again and again to what extent God really reaches down into our lives and tweaks things on our behalf.  For a very, very, very long time my answer to that question has been along the lines of not bloody often enough.  Loss after loss after loss, it was pretty hard to believe that anyone was up there listening.  Again and again Jason pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps and just kept going, not really knowing  where to put our feet next.  Falling in love with Yale was a choice in so many ways.  With so many other children out there, how do you decide which one belongs in your family?  Jason and I agonized over it.

Finding Max again -- having him found for me -- was not a choice.  It was a gift.

We are leaving to meet him in ten days.  Ten days.

I tell you, someone else is moving my chess pieces for me.