Cliffhanger Still Unanswered

I know I left everyone with a cliffhanger on the last post and I was hoping that by now I would have pulled everyone up off the cliff, with a direction we are headed, BUT we are still waiting. Waiting for an additional referral or waiting for N's paperwork to get signed. I will say that his file has actually been looked at, documents have been gathered, delivered, and probably ironed, pressed, decorated, bedazzled and anything else that would help it get signed, but they JUST WON'T SIGN IT! It naturally doesn't make any sense to us, whatsoever. It defies any logic. It is truly unexplainable. If there is a word for being way way way way way frustrating - then that is also what it is.

Five and half months and still no signature. The beautiful part of that is that God has probably heard the name of our child thousands of times by now. And if you could just see him, you would know that God has heard our prayers. I know you have heard me say it before, but he literally has the most beautiful smile. If you could just see his little video, you would know that there is just something special about this little guy.

We have been through the ringer in the past 5 months. Sure, we were given a referral that wasn't quite ready. We have spent extra money flying over there. We have cried so many tears. We have been angry. We have grown tired. We. . . . We . . . . We . . . . . However, WE are not the real sufferers in this scenario. It's funny how what one person can say, can change your perspective entirely. Someone on our agency facebook page wrote one time that we have to remember that it's the kids in ET that are really suffering, or something like that. OF COURSE, I've thought that, but something about the way she so simply stated it, just changed my outlook. We are not the ones that don't have enough to eat. We are not the ones that do not have a mom and dad. We are not the ones that are going to lose two more sets of caregivers by the time they get to America. We are not the ones that lie in a little box all day. We are not the ones that have four toys to play with. We are not the ones that rarely go outside.

I've expressed in way earlier posts about my fear of how all of this time in the orphanage will affect N's life, my family's lives and ultimately my life. How would everything have played out if we had not gotten a referral when we did? We would definitely still be waiting for a referral and our referral would still likely have come from this same orphanage . . . only much later. Our referral would probably read that our child went into the orphanage at 10 days old and now they are a year old. I know that I would look at that and think of the statistics. I would be thinking that I would want a child that has been in the orphanage for 4 and a half days, is the healthiest baby that they have ever laid eyes on and has remarkably come with a guarantee that this child will fit perfectly into any family. I seriously might not be too excited about taking a referral of a child that has been in an orphanage that long. TERRIBLE - I KNOW. I'm just saying, I know how selfishly I think and I know that is what I would be thinking. But when we got that picture of N, he became our child. When Dave met him in person, he really really became our child. Now, even if it took 5 years to get him, we still would. We will celebrate N's arrival here, even though we know he will be bringing with him some challenges that he might not otherwise have, if he were allowed to leave the orphanage when he was supposed to.

I don't totally know my point, but I have just been thinking about that lately. Could I possibly actually be thankful for this time? Maybe just a little tiny eensie weensie bit. I hurt every day for N, but I think I might just love him so much more because of this time.

A Big Decision

A little over a week ago, we got a letter in the mail from our agency. In it, they expressed their apologies for putting us through the past five months of torture and they gave us options for what is next. The options were to stay the uncertain course with N, return to the waitlist for another referral and say goodbye to N, or get back on the waitlist AND wait for N to become available.

For about 48 hours, it was literally difficult to catch my breath. This was a HUGE decision. The second option was off the table for sure - after Dave met little N, there was no chance we were going to be able to say goodbye to him. The option to stay the course didn't feel like much of an option, because who can live in that state of limbo for an indefinite amount of time? On Thursday morning, I had the whole morning to myself, so I finally had a good chunk of time to read a little of the old B-I-B-L-E, journal and just pray. I walked away from that time about 90 percent more calm, a regular heartbeat, a normal breathing pattern and basically with an answer. I really felt like God was saying, "You don't even have to make this decision . . . .I will." So, by Friday we had our answer and that was to leave the door open for two kids from Ethiopia. It is out of our hands now. If N's paperwork gets signed before we get a new referral, then we will just be brining him home and I would be so happy! If we get a referral and then N's paperwork gets signed, then I will be so panicked . . . and so happy!

If I had to guess right now, I think we will just be bringing N home, but Dave would guess the opposite. Things seem to be moving with N's paperwork, but the regional Mowa where "the Goose," lives, has been stalling and breaking promises every week, practically, since July, so I don't put too much stock in the "next week" and "tomorrow" promises we continue to hear. So, I wonder how all this is going to play out? Will N's paperwork get signed today? Will we get referral by the end of this week? Will we be making four trips to Ethiopia next year? Will we be be buying a car that will fit 4 kids? Will I ever even get to hold N?

Stayed tuned to find out what happens next.

Husbands

Last Monday, was definitely a new low, as promised in my last post. Our paperwork again, was not signed and we sit here two weeks later, and no paperwork still signed, which leads us to have to make one of the most difficult decisions that we may ever have to make. That is not what this post is about though, even though, that is what is on my mind in my sleep, my awake time, and pretty much all the time that I am not teaching piano. Thank God for teaching. I LOVE it! Not only because it takes my mind off of my adoption hardness, but because kids are just so fun to teach. My students probably have no idea how much I love them, or they might think I'm kinda weird. Anyway . . . That is what my train of thought is like lately. All over the place.

So, back to last Monday's new low. It was no longer time to hold it together. It was time to explode. All the togetherness, I had mustered up in the previous months, broke loose. Not in a somber quiet way, but in a raging crying way. I'm embarrassed even thinking about it. I will say, that what ignited the downfall of my demeanor was receiving a SECOND notice of speeding by one of those picture taking police vehicles. I can assure you that I am a slow driver. In fact, I think that all that these tickets prove is that I am a slow driver. One was for going one mile over the speed limit (there is a touch more to this story, but for the sake of the story, just roll with it) and the other was for going 5 miles over the speed limit, in a 25 zone down Colorado Avenue. Seriously! So, that is what put me over the edge. I felt like governments all over the world were just trying to stick it to me and I am a decently good person . . . . . . . . to everyone, but my husband, that night.

Someone, was going to feel my pain and my anger, and it wasn't any of you. That night, I couldn't understand how he couldn't be crying and weeping like me. How heartless can he be? He should feel what I am feeling, WHEN I am feeling it? Right? He was saying heartless things, like, "Just try to put it out of your mind." "You need to detach, Holly." "It'll all work out." And the list of quick fixes continued. In my mind, he may as well have been saying, "I hate you, Holly." I didn't want him to fix anything, I wanted him to feel what I was feeling and I made sure that happened. I'm not patting myself on the back. In fact, it kinda reminded me of "You've got Mail" when Tom Hanks talks about how he throws out zingers and then wishes he could take them back. That is what happened. I hit Dave where it hurt. And when I saw it, part of me felt good, but most of me didn't. He lashed back for a couple minutes, but then stopped, put his hand on my arm and began to pray. What??? How did he do that? Just minutes before I was shooting red arrows of fire out of my blue eyes at him and saying hurtful things and not even on accident!

Sometimes I wish I was one of those adoptive parents who have on their profile things like, "I married my best friend and each day I have with him is like a day in someplace way better than paradise, etc. . . . . . . " I'm not quite there with Dave, but there are moments like these, where I am in awe of him.

Well, I know this post isn't related to our adoption, but it is certainly related to our adoption life. It is hard to go through something this crazy, when the other person that is going through it, doesn't always react the same way. Hopefully, I can have as much grace as Dave did last Monday, when he is dealing with things in his own way. And, hopefully, we can arrive on the same page with our big decision that we need to make. And, yes, that is another giant prayer requests for those of you not too tired to keep praying for us and "the Goose."