Update

Elena's region is currently shut down to processing adoptions.  I had thought, naively, that we would skirt by this shut down because we had already registered with the Ministry of Education and had made our first trip.  I thought we would be grandfathered in, and have news of our court date later this month.  I was wrong.  And now we're a little in shock.  I guess we got spoiled, being the region 23 family who was just sailing along while all our other adoptive friends in other regions hit snag after snag.

I cried angry tears for the first two days.  And now I'm just trying to find a place of peace.  Throughout the course of the day, I'll hear my children laughing upstairs or I'll catch myself daydreaming about Elena integrating into our family and it's tears of sadness now that pop into my eyes.  "Lost time!" my mind says.  "But God's time," my heart responds.

There is some hopeful speculation that we can resume our process in May.  There is no way to know for sure, but we are holding on to that hope.  

Jeff pointed out that this feeling is like when we were in the midst of infertility.  After our first failed in vitro fertilization, we felt so sad and in despair.  We also felt hope for the next try.  But in the background was that ugly, lurking fear of "what if this never works?  what if it's failed attempt after failed attempt?"  

Right now we feel sad.  But we also have hope that things will reopen in a few months.  But there's this ugly, lurking fear that we may never get to resume our adoption process....

The path of infertility obviously resulted in so much joy and blessing in our family.  We are holding tight to the hope that the path of adoption will result in the same.  I can only think that God in all His wisdom was trying to teach me a thing or two about trust and patience during our struggle with infertility, as He knew the adoption path that lay ahead for us 7 years later.  

The biggest thing for me--that Elena be protected during this time of waiting. That her little heart, her little mind, her little spirit be protected.  I pray that more time in an orphanage does not equal a heart that is less able to receive love from us, less able to make her place in our family, once we get her home.  Please pray with me.

Now I'm just trying to focus on the joy in my every day tasks again, and stop focusing on the uncertain future.  It's hard not to let my thoughts run away and get lost in worry as I go throughout my day.  Sometimes I wish I wouldn't think about her so much.  Is that a terrible thing for a mother to think?  But I'm not sure it's even in my power to do such a thing anyway.

Even now as I'm typing this, I'm struggling.  I see her face in my mind and I am twisting inside knowing that even if get to see her again as early as this summer, she will have changed in that time.  Changed without me.  And even if it's only a few months that we are delayed, those are months that I wanted to be a part of.  Influencing, teaching, loving, showing a new way, introducing what it is to be a part of a family where hugs are freely given and there's always a song at bedtime.

A few years ago, in the Esther Beth Moore study, I learned that we must wait solely on the Lord, not on any other goal or event.  Isaiah 40:31: Those who wait on the Lord (not Russia) shall renew their strength.

Airline Tickets: Bought

Grace: Desperately Sought
Wardrobe: pondered
Conversations: wandered
EE Weather: frosty
Snow Boots: costly
Thoughts: swirling
Hope: unfurling
Sleep: disturbed
Mind: perturbed

Plug Adapter: needed
Heart: weeded
Jam: raffled
Cyrillic: baffled

Alana: loved
Mystery: the end of
Information: feared
Wisdom: revered
Courage: mustered
Family: flustered
Jesus: trusted
Fears: prayed out
Cons: weighed out
In-Flight Movies: counting on
Eagle's Wings: mounting on

Moving Forward

Sooooo... I was going to do an enchilada dinner fundraiser on Super Bowl Sunday....

....but.....

...sigh...

....looks like I won't be able to....

...sigh....

....I guess I'll.....

JUST BE IN EASTERN EUROPE INSTEAD!!!!!!!

We have confirmation of our travel date!!!  That, my friends, is confirmation to freak out!!!!  

We're going to meet Alana.  Finally!

Yep.  

We are going to meet her.

I have no idea what it will be like.  

Maybe she'll be shy.

Maybe she'll cry.  

(And who could blame her?)

Maybe she'll hug us and take our faces in her little hands.

Maybe she'll want to play.

Maybe she'll be bored with us.

Maybe she'll prefer her caretakers?

I just don't know.  And there's enough smoldering apprehension in me to fuel the space shuttle all the way to the moon.  

But I'm ready to find out.  I'm ready to learn who Alana is.  I've known a hazy version of her in my heart.  Now that version will have reality to sharpen it, enhance it, modify it.  

I put my blog on a private setting so only invited readers could have access.  There's too much chatter about international adoptions, too much suspicion, too many calls for a moratorium on EE adoptions to Americans.  So if you're reading this, it's because I know any thing I say here is safe with you. 

I'm still maintaining her fake name here on this blog, not posting other pictures of her, and not even mentioning her country, even though most of you reading this know full well where she is!  Some of the secrecy is warranted, some of it's paranoia.  At this point I don't know how much of which is which.  But after we get back from our first trip, and are officially matched to Alana through her country, I'll feel more at ease.  Thank you for helping us maintain privacy.  Thank you for your prayers throughout all this.  Thank you for supporting us and encouraging us.  

You mean so much to us.

Hey.  

Did I mention I'm going to meet Alana?

Today

Some good things happening today:

Our dossier is being submitted.
We get our fingerprints done today.

It feels so good to DO something after a week or two of standing still on the paperwork front.

Please pray that everything we're doing today is blessed by our Father.  That our dossier is exactly how it should be.  That it is accepted and registered smoothly.  That our fingerprints are processed quickly and without snags.


My goodness, Alana, please hold on for us.  We ARE coming.  I promise we're coming!

Vacation (and Classes)

Is it really vacation if you're driving 4 hours a day away from the pine trees and the lake and the cabin and smores and bear pancakes and your children to attend adoption classes?

You know, I wouldn't have it any other way.  I have another child.  She just doesn't live with us yet.  And I'd do anything for my children.  Even drive in the opposite direction of smores.  And that's sayin' something.  

It's actually a blessing that the classes were scheduled during our vacation because that ensured that Jeff could make it to them.  

Sure, we could have waited and taken the classes in September when our schedule was less hectic....and let Kathryn sit in an orphanage for one month longer....

Riiiiight!  If it were up to me, I'd have been on a plane to pick her up yesterday.  Or the day before.  Or sometime back in June.   

But then I have to remember that God's timing is superior to mine.  (Imagine that!)  So we do what we can.  Jump at the chances we have.  Make the opportunities work.  And then wait.  Wait.  WAIT.  

I pray for her all the time.  I pray for her health.  I get scared thinking about what she might be enduring every day.  Even if her orphanage is excellent, I still worry about her being exposed to an opportunistic infection her little body isn't prepared for.  

The adoption classes are fantastic.  They make me feel prepared.  They give me a direction for my prayers.  And yet, they leave me frightened too.  I just want to get my arms around this little girl and love her to pieces.  I desperately want to assess her little damaged soul and then fix it.  I want to tell her I'm never leaving and I'll never stop loving her.   I want to feed her!  I want to give her vitamins and whole wheat bread and plums and tomatoes and blueberries and milk and oranges and pasta.  And smores.  I want to bake a birthday cake for her.  My goodness, I can't wait to feed her.  Even if I have to puree up oatmeal or something, I just want to feed her.  Something in my maternal make-up just loves to feed my children.  I want to give her whatever medication she needs and take her to the park and dance her in circles and sit in the sun and show her a book.  Maybe she won't be receptive.  Maybe she will.  Maybe it will take time.  Maybe it will take more time.  Maybe it will take more than that.  Don't care.  God will provide.  

But, for now, we wait.  3 in-person classes down.  10 hours of online classes down.  Next?  Intake interview on Wednesday the 31st.  

That's a bear pancake.  In case you thought it was a bloated sheep or something.

And then there's the fear that this whole thing will fall through.  That God will close the door.  I've got my leg so far stretched into the doorway, it would hurt pretty badly to get it slammed in there.  

I've been so good at reeling myself in...yet I know how invested I already am.  I have little thoughts throughout the day (that I don't even mean to have) that add this little girl to our family, to our everyday.  

To maintain sanity, I know I need to stop waiting on the process and start waiting on the Lord.

But those who wait on the LORD
      Shall renew their strength;
      They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
      They shall run and not be weary,
      They shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:31

Seminar

We are attending an informational seminar at our homestudy agency today.  It is a requirement before we can submit an application with them.  I'm excited to start this process and get us on our way.