At least the stuff for M!
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
More of the story...
While helping Drake prepare today for his part in our "wild game feed" fundraiser that's coming up this weekend (he's doing a short oral presentation on M's city and province), I came across this blog post - wow! So glad I found it. This fills in some of the missing pieces in my mind about how WACAP came to be in partnership with M's orphanage, and also some more info about the orphanage in general.
The woman who wrote this blog post is also our travel agent for our trip to China; I spoke with her on the phone the other day! It's a small world. I'm finding that out more and more, especially in the international adoption realm.
Hope you enjoy this post like I did!
Sophie Visits Pingliang Children's Welfare Institute
The woman who wrote this blog post is also our travel agent for our trip to China; I spoke with her on the phone the other day! It's a small world. I'm finding that out more and more, especially in the international adoption realm.
Hope you enjoy this post like I did!
Sophie Visits Pingliang Children's Welfare Institute
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Moving right along!
On Wednesday the 12th, we got "soft" travel approval (meaning we showed up in the CCCWA system as having received travel approval), "hard" travel approval (meaning the actual travel approval document arrived in WACAP's mailbox) and got our consulate appointment booked! All in one day! (It just doesn't usually happen that way.) We got our first choice for consulate appointment - March 18th. That date is what the trip to China is based around, so we were then able to purchase our international flights and schedule our in-country itinerary by Friday, the 14th. Happy Valentine's Day to us! ;)
We will be driving to Washington and then flying out of Seattle for China the evening of March 5th. We'll take custody of M on March 9th. There are many other steps involved in completing her adoption and making it possible for her to travel to the US that we will complete that week and the next, and then we'll fly back into Seattle on March 20th. Whew! Can't believe this is coming up so quickly. And yet, at the same time, we long to get our little girl in our arms even sooner.
It's "real," folks!
We will be driving to Washington and then flying out of Seattle for China the evening of March 5th. We'll take custody of M on March 9th. There are many other steps involved in completing her adoption and making it possible for her to travel to the US that we will complete that week and the next, and then we'll fly back into Seattle on March 20th. Whew! Can't believe this is coming up so quickly. And yet, at the same time, we long to get our little girl in our arms even sooner.
It's "real," folks!
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Paper pregnancy
(I wrote this post a little while back, but hadn't "published" it yet. Figured this might be the time since WE JUST GOT TRAVEL APPROVAL TODAY!!!)
Every once in a while, I'm going about my day and suddenly it hits me. In about a month - possibly less than that - we'll have our baby! It doesn't seem real that it's getting so close after all these many months of waiting to meet her! But while it shocks me that it's coming so soon, it sometimes feels like I can't wait another day. I have to say, I'm a far more patient person than I used to be, but it's still not my strong suit. And of course, the nearer an anticipated event comes, the harder it is to wait for it.
Having experienced several pregnancies - two with happy endings - I can't help but notice the differences and similarities. There is no physical evidence of this paper pregnancy, no morning sickness, heartburn, swollen ankles, difficulty breathing, or waking up three times a night to use the bathroom. No squirming little body tightly squished inside, reminding me of what is just around the corner. No Braxton-Hicks contractions when I climb the stairs too fast. No doctor's visits. No waddle. No practicing for labor. No birth plan. No one saying, "When is that baby due? Haven't you had that baby yet?"
This little person was conceived in our hearts on March 26, 2012. We didn't know anything about her yet, only that she was coming.
Morning sickness this time around was all the trouble we had in the beginning - switching homestudy agencies when we'd just started to get off the ground, and the 48 typed pages I churned out in the form of an autobiography, Parenting Resource Plan, and other documents once we finally got it going. It was all the forms we filled out, the doctor's appointments, specialist appointments, the psychological evaluation, the social worker visits, and so many trips to the notary public on base that she started to remember us.
Heartburn was the additional three months that were added when we switched country programs within our agency - waiting and frustration. No matter how many Tums I took, the additional homestudy requirements just wouldn't go away.
Once our dossier was almost done, we had breathing difficulty every time the phone rang and caller ID said "WACAP." Is this a referral? Is it going to be the one? Excitement and dread at the same time. Yes, dread - if you've ever had to turn down a referral, you reallyreallyreally don't want to do it again.
Instead of doctor's visits, we get regular calls and emails from our caseworker, checking in with us and informing us of progress. Instead of practicing breathing for labor, we are fighting the military to allow Adam to travel.
There really is no waddle. (Unless maybe you count the weight we gained between Thanksgiving and Christmas this year - gone now, thankfully.)
Soon we'll make a birth plan, called our travel itinerary.
And while I don't wake up three times a night to use the bathroom, I am finding it harder and harder to sleep these days.
And people say, "When are you traveling? Any more news? When are you going to get her?"
So here's what I know.
Every once in a while, I'm going about my day and suddenly it hits me. In about a month - possibly less than that - we'll have our baby! It doesn't seem real that it's getting so close after all these many months of waiting to meet her! But while it shocks me that it's coming so soon, it sometimes feels like I can't wait another day. I have to say, I'm a far more patient person than I used to be, but it's still not my strong suit. And of course, the nearer an anticipated event comes, the harder it is to wait for it.
Having experienced several pregnancies - two with happy endings - I can't help but notice the differences and similarities. There is no physical evidence of this paper pregnancy, no morning sickness, heartburn, swollen ankles, difficulty breathing, or waking up three times a night to use the bathroom. No squirming little body tightly squished inside, reminding me of what is just around the corner. No Braxton-Hicks contractions when I climb the stairs too fast. No doctor's visits. No waddle. No practicing for labor. No birth plan. No one saying, "When is that baby due? Haven't you had that baby yet?"
This little person was conceived in our hearts on March 26, 2012. We didn't know anything about her yet, only that she was coming.
Morning sickness this time around was all the trouble we had in the beginning - switching homestudy agencies when we'd just started to get off the ground, and the 48 typed pages I churned out in the form of an autobiography, Parenting Resource Plan, and other documents once we finally got it going. It was all the forms we filled out, the doctor's appointments, specialist appointments, the psychological evaluation, the social worker visits, and so many trips to the notary public on base that she started to remember us.
Heartburn was the additional three months that were added when we switched country programs within our agency - waiting and frustration. No matter how many Tums I took, the additional homestudy requirements just wouldn't go away.
Once our dossier was almost done, we had breathing difficulty every time the phone rang and caller ID said "WACAP." Is this a referral? Is it going to be the one? Excitement and dread at the same time. Yes, dread - if you've ever had to turn down a referral, you reallyreallyreally don't want to do it again.
Instead of doctor's visits, we get regular calls and emails from our caseworker, checking in with us and informing us of progress. Instead of practicing breathing for labor, we are fighting the military to allow Adam to travel.
There really is no waddle. (Unless maybe you count the weight we gained between Thanksgiving and Christmas this year - gone now, thankfully.)
Soon we'll make a birth plan, called our travel itinerary.
And while I don't wake up three times a night to use the bathroom, I am finding it harder and harder to sleep these days.
And people say, "When are you traveling? Any more news? When are you going to get her?"
So here's what I know.
- Adoption is different than pregnancy, but oh so much the same. Certainly not easier.
- I'm now convinced that "nesting" is psychological, not biological.
- I treasure the pictures of M from her orphanage the way I treasured my boys' ultrasound pictures...just a glimpse at the real little person who is becoming part of our family.
- Biological or adopted, all three are "our own."
Article 5 delivered and "received"
This is hopefully going to be one of the last few "technical" blog posts about the adoption process itself. We are getting so close to the end!
Last Thursday (Feb. 6), I got an email from our WACAP caseworker saying our Article 5 had been delivered to the CCCWA! A day or two earlier than expected, so that was really nice. Then yesterday she said our status had changed to "Article 5 received" on the CCCWA website. This means they have updated us into the system, so things are moving along as they should be. It also indicates to people who see a lot of these and follow the trends (like our caseworker) that in approximately one week, it should change to "Travel Notice Approved!" Approximately 0-4 days after that, we can expect to receive our Travel Notice! (The "0" days is because they occasionally receive the Travel Notice document in the mail within a few hours of the website update.) Of course, times can vary; this is our caseworker's estimate based on the recent trends she has been seeing.
Last Thursday (Feb. 6), I got an email from our WACAP caseworker saying our Article 5 had been delivered to the CCCWA! A day or two earlier than expected, so that was really nice. Then yesterday she said our status had changed to "Article 5 received" on the CCCWA website. This means they have updated us into the system, so things are moving along as they should be. It also indicates to people who see a lot of these and follow the trends (like our caseworker) that in approximately one week, it should change to "Travel Notice Approved!" Approximately 0-4 days after that, we can expect to receive our Travel Notice! (The "0" days is because they occasionally receive the Travel Notice document in the mail within a few hours of the website update.) Of course, times can vary; this is our caseworker's estimate based on the recent trends she has been seeing.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
"Lucky baby"
I've been caught off guard by all the gushing comments we've been hearing lately about how "lucky" or "blessed" M is that we are doing this "great thing" by adopting her. When I think about it, I really shouldn't be so surprised, because I do look at adoption in general as a blessing for all involved (otherwise we wouldn't be adopting). But when these kinds of comments are actually said to me, it doesn't sit right. I want to respond, "But...you're missing something..."
I know in my heart that M will not feel "blessed" for a long time. She will not think she's "lucky" when we show up on the scene to "rescue" her. She will not think that this adoption (kidnapping in her view) is a "great thing" at all. From her perspective, her life is fine just the way it is, and we're about to come and turn it upside down. While we've been preparing and anticipating for close to two years now, she has just been living her life. She doesn't know that one day soon, some strange-looking, strange-talking, strange-smelling people are going to come and rip her away from the only home she knows.
Our little girl has already lost her birth mother, a loss I absolutely cannot fathom, as I know the fierce and desperate love a newborn has for his or her mother. I'm sure she grieved that loss deeply in her own newborn way. Has her heart learned to be suspicious? Does she cling a little tighter (or hold a little looser), fearing another tearing away of the ones who have stepped in to fill that mama-void? I ache for this little person who has already experienced deeper loss than most of us ever will. And Adam and I are about to compound that loss. While we can see beyond the immediate future and understand that this adoption is ultimately in M's best interest, we do well not to forget the pain we will be inflicting upon her as we bring her into our family (and away from from everything she knows and loves).
I have been mulling these thoughts over for quite some time, and just today I came upon this story...
From A 4Ever Family website, called "A Different Perspective."
I know in my heart that M will not feel "blessed" for a long time. She will not think she's "lucky" when we show up on the scene to "rescue" her. She will not think that this adoption (kidnapping in her view) is a "great thing" at all. From her perspective, her life is fine just the way it is, and we're about to come and turn it upside down. While we've been preparing and anticipating for close to two years now, she has just been living her life. She doesn't know that one day soon, some strange-looking, strange-talking, strange-smelling people are going to come and rip her away from the only home she knows.
Our little girl has already lost her birth mother, a loss I absolutely cannot fathom, as I know the fierce and desperate love a newborn has for his or her mother. I'm sure she grieved that loss deeply in her own newborn way. Has her heart learned to be suspicious? Does she cling a little tighter (or hold a little looser), fearing another tearing away of the ones who have stepped in to fill that mama-void? I ache for this little person who has already experienced deeper loss than most of us ever will. And Adam and I are about to compound that loss. While we can see beyond the immediate future and understand that this adoption is ultimately in M's best interest, we do well not to forget the pain we will be inflicting upon her as we bring her into our family (and away from from everything she knows and loves).
I have been mulling these thoughts over for quite some time, and just today I came upon this story...
From A 4Ever Family website, called "A Different Perspective."
| Immense Loss; Walk a Mile in Baby’s Booties Imagine for a moment… You have met the person you've dreamed about all your life. He has every quality that you desire in a spouse. You plan for the wedding, enjoying every free moment with your fiancĂ©e. You love his touch, his smell, the way he looks into your eyes. For the first time in your life, you understand what is meant by "soul mate," for this person understands you in a way that no one else does. Your heart beats in rhythm with his. Your emotions are intimately tied to his every joy, his every sorrow. The wedding comes. It is a happy celebration, but the best part is that you are finally the wife of this wonderful man. You fall asleep that night, exhausted from the day's events, but relaxed and joyful in the knowledge that you are next to the person who loves you more than anyone in the world…the person who will be with you for the rest of your life. The next morning you wake up, nestled in your partner's arms. You open your eyes and immediately look for his face. But IT'S NOT HIM! You are in the arms of another man. You recoil in horror. Who is this man? Where is your beloved? You ask questions of the new man, but it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn't understand you. You search every room in the house, calling and calling for your husband. The new guy follows you around, trying to hug you, pat you on the back,...even trying to stroke your arm, acting like everything is okay. But you know that nothing is okay. Your beloved is gone. Where is he? Will he return? When? What has happened to him? Weeks pass. You cry and cry over the loss of your beloved. Sometimes you ache silently, in shock over what has happened. The new guy tries to comfort you. You appreciate his attempts, but he doesn't speak your language-either verbally or emotionally. He doesn't seem to realize the terrible thing that has happened...that your sweetheart is gone. You find it difficult to sleep. The new guy tries to comfort you at bedtime with soft words and gentle touches, but you avoid him, preferring to sleep alone, away from him and any intimate words or contact. Months later, you still ache for your beloved, but gradually you are learning to trust this new guy. He's finally learned that you like your coffee black, not doctored up with cream and sugar. Although you still don't understand his bedtime songs, you like the lilt of his voice and take some comfort in it. More time passes. One morning, you wake up to find a full suitcase sitting next to the front door. You try to ask him about it, but he just takes you by the hand and leads you to the car. You drive and drive and drive. Nothing is familiar. Where are you? Where is he taking you? You pull up to a large building. He leads you to an elevator and up to a room filled with people. Many are crying. Some are ecstatic with joy. You are confused. And worried. The man leads you over to the corner. Another man opens his arms and sweeps you up in an embrace. He rubs your back and kisses your cheeks, obviously thrilled to see you. You are anything but thrilled to see him. Who in the world is he? Where is your beloved? You reach for the man who brought you, but he just smiles (although he seems to be tearing up, which concerns you), pats you on the back, and puts your hand in the hands of the new guy. The new guy picks up your suitcase and leads you to the door. The familiar face starts openly crying, waving and waving as the elevator doors close on you and the new guy. The new guy drives you to an airport and you follow him, not knowing what else to do. Sometimes you cry, but then the new guy tries to make you smile, so you grin back, wanting to "get along." You board a plane. The flight is long. You sleep a lot, wanting to mentally escape from the situation. Hours later, the plane touches down. The new guy is very excited and leads you into the airport where dozens of people are there to greet you. Light bulbs flash as your photo is taken again and again. The new guy takes you to another guy who hugs you. Who is this one? You smile at him. Then you are taken to another man who pats your back and kisses your cheek. Then yet another fellow gives you a big hug and messes your hair. Finally, someone (which guy is this?) pulls you into his arms with the biggest hug you've ever had. He kisses you all over your cheeks and croons to you in some language you've never heard before. He leads you to a car and drives you to another location. Everything here looks different. The climate is not what you're used to. The smells are strange. Nothing tastes familiar, except for the black coffee. You wonder if someone told him that you like your coffee black. You find it nearly impossible to sleep. Sometimes you lie in bed for hours, staring into the blackness, furious with your husband for leaving you, yet aching from the loss. The new guy checks on you. He seems concerned and tries to comfort you with soft words and a mug of warm milk. You turn away, pretending to go to sleep. People come to the house. You can feel the anxiety start to bubble over as you look into the faces of all the new people. You tightly grasp the new guy's hand. He pulls you closer. People smile and nudge one other, marveling at how quickly you've fallen in love. Strangers reach for you, wanting to be a part of the happiness. Each time a man hugs you, you wonder if he will be the one to take you away. Just in case, you keep your suitcase packed and ready. Although the man at this house is nice and you're hanging on for dear life, you've learned from experience that men come and go, so you just wait in expectation for the next one to come along. Each morning, the new guy hands you a cup of coffee and looks at you expectantly. A couple of times the pain and anger for your husband is so great that you lash out, sending hot coffee across the room, causing the new guy to yelp in pain. He just looks at you, bewildered. But most of the time you calmly take the cup. You give him a smile. And wait. And wait. And wait. --Written by Cynthia Hockman-Chupp, analogy courtesy of Dr. Kali Miller |
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