Minor Mayhem

Hoo-boy. It’s been a frustrating couple of days dealing with USCIS stuff (immigration). I don’t want to bore you with details, or rant about the inefficiencies of our federal government, but they’ve had me in a freaking tizzy! Their website has conflicting information on where to send our I-600A form (Application for Advance Processing of Orphan Petition -- say that 3 times fast), so I called them several weeks ago to get a clearer answer. I was told to send the form to the Atlanta office. Well, it was returned yesterday with a letter saying to file it with our state office. Yet they don’t say where that is, and they still have conflicting information on their web site about it, and then the hellish phone tree I entered last night put me over the edge and I was ready to pull out my newly highlighted hair! We certainly don’t want that, so I finally contacted my social worker and asked her. (I should have done that to begin with – darn independent spirit of mine.) I got a quick and accurate answer and it took all of 5 minutes to take it to the office that is a 2 minute drive from my house. Ugh!

This wouldn’t have been so distressing, but it’s topped off by the fact that there are different versions of my name floating around, and we are trying to make sure all our documents agree. When I married I wanted to keep my maiden name somehow, but I didn’t want to hyphenate my last name. So I made my middle name Monica Garza instead of just Monica. My passport recently arrived (yahoo for that!) without the Garza, and because we don’t want any inconsistencies to come back to haunt us, we’re taking up valuable time to re-do other papers to match. I'm a very patient person, but it's tough to have weeks wasted when you're already looking at a wait long enough to test the patience of Gandhi. Frank says to consider it our "morning sickness" phase. Let's just hope I don't actually throw up. :-)

I just keep remembering that this is small potatoes compared to other potential hiccups, and that some day we will be thankful that the process was delayed because of some unforeseen future benefit. Things happen the way they're supposed to happen, right? I’m also trying to keep it in perspective. So, while I complete forms while sitting on my couch bought from Sofa Super Store, I will remember the 9 firefighters who recently died in the fire there, and how they and their families would love to trade “problems” with us right now.

Ok then. So now that I’ve brought everyone down (truly sorry about that) it’s time for a much needed glass of wine to brighten the mood. Come to me, Luna di Luna...

Eating an Elephant

Thought I'd share a photo of our paperwork so far. (You can click on any photo in this blog to see it larger.)

On the right side is our official “Big Binder” that came from our agency, Little Miracles. When it arrived Frank called out to me, “Our baby is here! It says Just Add Water.” Funny boy.

In the center is our filing system. A friend who is also an adoptive parent (China and now working on Ethiopia), advised us to get a beautiful filing system and office supplies that are a pleasure to use because it will help us stay organized. She was definitely right!

On the left is a copy of our home study. It's hard to see how thick it is, but trust me when I say we killed some trees for that.

A common saying in the adoption world is:

How do you eat an elephant?
One bite at a time.

Borat Schmorat

Ok, let's just get this out of the way. Yes, Kazakhstan is the same country that the movie character Borat is supposedly from. Go ahead and giggle, but just know that this country and its people are nothing at all like they are portrayed in the film!

Funny, I was sitting in my doctor's examining room several weeks ago, waiting for him to come back in to tap my knee, listen to my heart and complete the required Kazakhstan-specific health form that verifies that I'm not expected to die anytime soon and should theoretically be around long enough to raise a child. I could barely overhear him in the hall talking with a nurse about the strange form. I wasn't paying much attention -- just thinking about how I would redecorate the hideous green room and feeling a bit like a gift horse being looked in the mouth -- until I overheard someone say the word Borat. Clear as day. A half-smile crept across my face, and I felt simultaneously amused and indignant. I remembered back to our first reaction when Frank and I were researching all the international adoption programs, and instantly decided that we wouldn't even consider Kazakhstan because everyone would tease us about Borat. But we have come soooo far from this association now that we almost forget why some people smile when we first say "...from Kazakhstan."

So here's the deal: The Borat comments still mildly amuse us at this point, but get it out of your system now because there will soon come a day when we will poke you in the eye, tweak your nose and go all Three Stooges on you. With love of course.

Home Study ... Check!

We have passed a big milestone; our home study is complete!

And we actually enjoyed the process. The home study is a much-feared step by many hopeful parents, but I guess because we didn't have any red flags to worry about, it was more of an interesting journey into our psyche. No, they don't come in and "white glove" your house and open every door looking for signs that you are indeed a freak. (They would have only found our halos hanging in the closet anyway, right???) It's really more about delving into your family history, exploring the health of your marriage, your lifestyle, your criminal records, your value system and your ability to financially and emotionally support a child. It consisted of a 2.5 hour interview and home visit, along with a great deal of paperwork. But from what I hear this paperwork pales in comparison to the next step...

We are now full steam ahead with putting together our dossier. A dossier is "a collection of required documents that is sent to a foreign country in order to process the adoption of a child in that country's legal system." And a shipload of paperwork. We opted to hire our agency's dossier service, which will make this task a little more bearable. From this point, it should be approximately 10-11 months until we travel to Kazakhstan to meet our little one, who theoretically could just recently have been born. Wow, there's a thought!

In case you were wondering, yes it is kind of weird balancing the business aspects of adoption with the very non-businesslike emotions of simply wanting a family. All the contracts, paperwork and examination into our parenting ability can be daunting, but we are approaching it with such joyful anticipation that it hasn't gotten to us. There have been a couple of frustrating moments so far, but it still just feels right. We know it's worth it.

Speaking of emotions, I cannot believe how often I have been moved to tears since we embarked on this process. And I mean happy tears! Sometimes I'm not even sure why I'm crying. My heart is just so full that my eyes well up upon the slightest hint of adoption mush. It happens whether I'm reading adoption articles, talking to friends about it, or walking past the children's books in Target. I have been a weeping willow. Embarrassingly, it's been happening in public at inopportune times too.

For example, I was recently at the office of a local videographer for a work-related project. As we were waiting on some DVDs to burn, he played a video montage he created of his and his wife's adoption trip to China, which included the amazing moment that they -- and several other families -- first met their baby daughters. Before I knew it, tears were streaming down both cheeks and I was unable to even talk without my voice breaking. Granted, this guy is a very talented videographer and editor, so it was a very moving video with this beautiful song playing in the background and I would have teared up no matter what. But because of where I've been emotionally, I could feel a full-fledged Boo-Hoo Festival coming on. When he noticed my state, he smiled understandingly and also seemed proud that his work was so moving, but then he seemed unsure how to react (as most any male acquaintance of a suddenly crying woman might!) There was an awkward moment, so I dug deep and pulled back out the professional Regina, managed to squeak out a "thanks for sharing that with me, but I've gotta get back," grabbed my DVDs and dashed out. As I drove back to the office, endless streams of huge tears flowed freely, drenching my entire face and neck. I was one strangely happy mess of maternal instinct! The raw power of my emotions was a little surprising.

Another time I was at a party, and a family was there who had adopted a 3-year old Chinese boy only weeks before. (Boys are rarely adopted from China, but he had special needs resulting from a stroke as an infant. He is doing amazingly well, and was as happy, loving and adorable as you could imagine.) We had an inspiring conversation with the parents about adoption, as well as heart-warming interactions with the boy and his older sisters. At one point I felt so overwhelmed with happiness and anticipation that I had to fiercely fight back tears ... standing in the middle of a big party, in the midst of a beautiful garden, and far too many steps away from a restroom or even a quiet corner. I must have had one funny look on my face as I tried to sip my lime sorbet punch nonchalantly while swallowing the huge lump in my throat! I am usually a very reasonable, in-control, completely mentally stable person, but lately my mantra is becoming "keep it together." I don't want people to think I'm a nut case!

Yes, I am soft-hearted and I've always adored children (especially my 11 nieces and nephews), but this feeling is something else. It's like a whole different part of my heart has awakened and it is so full love that it could physically burst. Geez, it sounds so cliche, but it's true. Frank says he's been getting all weepy too -- and we're not anywhere near becoming parents yet. I can't even imagine how we will feel the day we meet our child. Does parenthood suddenly turn you into a sniveling, gushing, wet noodle of a human being??? I don't quite know how all this is going to change us, but what I do know is that we are ready. We are ready and waiting with misty eyes, overflowing hearts and wide-open arms. :-)