I Quit.

Signing kids in, Discovery's first Sunday

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

I love change and I hate change.  It's exciting and new, a rush of discovery and the promise of hope.  But I immerse myself in history, both global and personal and I cling to the familiar, the known. Which is probably why I hate quitting.  Anything, good or bad, I will keep doing it until I am past the point of exhaustion rather than throw in the towel. So it was just as much a shock to me as it was to anyone when I decided to quit my job.

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, a time to reap that which was planted.

But even though the decision had to be ripped from me like a tree, planted by streams of water, whose roots grow deep. . .It was the right decision and I've never looked back.  Not that I could see through my tears if I did look back, and not that there is anything in front of me to see either, but I'm comfortable, looking right where I'm at.  I have peace.  That peace is hard fought for, but it is still peace.  And peace in the middle of chaos is a pretty amazing thing.  Nope, I don't have another job.  Nope, I'm not looking for one.  Nope, Kaz is still not open and we're obviously not travelling there anytime soon.  Nope, I am not quitting my job to go toward anything.  I think I am quitting my job because I'm right where I'm supposed to be.  Which can be the most freeing and most dangerous place in the world.

No one's job is without some sense of identity.  But mine is grafted onto my heart.  I feel its beat and I'm not sure how to stop that rhythm.  I love the community that comes with my job, they're family, and that won't change at all.  So, maybe the rhythm won't stop, I just adjust to a new beat.  I don't like adjusting.  But I will.  I will grieve and I will let go and I will still have peace.  And I'm fairly confident that a new awakening will be built on that peace.  A new sense of purpose.  A new season.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.~The Byrds

So I cry because my roots are deep.  And I'm weary because untangling myself from more than a decade of investment is exhausting.  But I bought waterproof mascara and I'm drinking a lot of coffee.  And I'm excited for my first day off and even though I can't wait to see what's around the corner, I'm content to just look at it. For now.

So thank you.  If you have been with me on this journey, thank you.  I love you, you are a treasure to me and my family.  I cannot imagine what my life would have been like without the immense richness of these past years, more blessings poured out on me than I could have imagined and more than I deserved.  And I'm not going anywhere, so I hope to still be part of something, because we are meant to live for so much more-Switchfoot. And that's what I plan to keep doing, until I can't do it anymore.

So make the best of this test and don't ask why.  It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time.
It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.  I hope you had the time of your life.~Green Day

I know I did.

Soon End In Joy

See the t shirt?

We had a summer bucket list. Tomorrow is the first day of fall and I've been quite retrospective about summer, as it draws to an end. What did we set about to do?

Fun family times:  Trip to the wave pool-check.  The girls loved it and would have gladly played for hours more in the water had their mother not been exhausted :)  We rounded out the night with burgers and milkshakes at Shake Shake Shake and a walk through Stadium High School-awesome.  A camping trip over Labor Day weekend was also a huge success despite the fact that the park bathrooms broke the second night there and we renamed our girls whiny pants and grabby hands (if you know us, there should be no question who is who!)  We had a great time taking little hikes, swimming in the lake and eating delicious meals, why does food always taste better when eaten outside?  And, we ate outside throughout the summer, BBQs on our porch, trips to the park with Tatanka take out for dinner (can you say buffalo?!) and popsicles enjoyed during summer evening walks through UPS.  The college, not the delivery service :) Summer reading club-check.  I love trips to the library as a way to share different cultures with the girls. Even now in our book basket we have a Russian folk tale (thinly veiled children's story of Animal Farm!) a book about Pablo Picasso, Louis Armstrong, and a poem about cats. That might make me seem like a super star mom except for the fact that the two books my girls ask for most are Cinderella and Barbie.  Sigh.  I try soooo hard!

Speaking of reading, our goal for the  summer with Evelyn was for her to memorize a verse each week and know her kindergarten sight words.  Eleven verses-check.  Kindergarten sight words-check.  In two weeks and then she got bored and started to make patterns with the words and create example sentences with each one.  So we moved on to first grade words and addition with double digit numbers-check.  I honestly don't know what to do with that child, I may just send her off to college right now!

Bard's goal was to take the girls on a little day hike to Mount Rainier.  We fit it in by surprising him on his birthday, packed up the girls, cupcakes, a backpack frame for Cici, and headed up the mountain.  Despite the rumblings of thunder, somehow managing to leave Evelyn's shoe in the parking lot, and spending the last half a mile convincing Evelyn to. . . STAND UP AND KEEP WALKING! We had a good time :)  I love my mountain and yes, it is my mountain, both girls call it that as well although Evelyn has started telling me that it can't just be my mountain, I have to share.  We'll see.

Weekly trips to the Farmer's Market, both girls in swim lessons, BBQing with friends-check, check, check. I guess as summer ends, I have a lot to be thankful for.  And I'm trying to, I really am.  But I'm not.  I'm really not.

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen
Nobody knows but Jesus

I love the time we've had as a family.  We were very purposeful about it, fitting it in when it looked like it would be too squishy.  Passing on other commitments because we wanted these memories.  Needed them. Our last times with the girls before traveling to the other side of the world.

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen
Glory Hallelujah ~ Louis Armstrong

Because those family memories were supposed to be preparation for adding to our family.  At the end of the bucket list was:  Complete dossier, accept referral, fly to Kazakhstan.  I worried that the girls would miss their first day of school.  I worried that we would leave before Bard had time to feel secure in his new job. Then I worried that we would never travel at all.  We heard the papers were ready.  Officials had given the go ahead.  And then we heard about the court case.  And so did the Kazakhstan government.    The details are disgusting, search for them on your own if you want, I'm not going into them here. Suffice to say that an evil exists in the world and anyone who doubts its existence is blind to the plight of orphaned children.

But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted; you consider their grief and take it in hand.  The victims commit themselves to you; you are the helper of the fatherless. ~ Psalm of David


Our courts moved too slowly and one delay rolled into another while our agency worried that the monstrosity of a crime would cast a pall over all US adoptions.  And they would be shut down.  Indefinitely. And then any information we were receiving simply shut down.  And so did I.  I lived in tears and helplessness.  And waiting.  Depression.

God hears your sighs and counts your tears

And then I snapped.  I could not be in the dark any longer, there had to be someone out there who knew something.  I called and emailed and researched. Congress is probably completely incapable of doing anything regarding Syria, healthcare, or the budget.  But damned if one of them couldn't help me adopt a child from Central Asia.  We learned that our ambassador for Children's Issues with the State Department was preparing a trip to Kazakhstan, meeting with officials regarding US adoptions.  And we learned that although there was certainly some misgivings in Kazakhstan regarding US adoptions, there was also support for it to reopen, and to do so quickly.  Maybe not my definition of quickly, but I'll take what I can get!  And then, the best, most nerve wracking news of all.  Our agency, which has been extremely conservative-for good reason-about us working on our dossier, gave the green light.  One week ago I was told I could move forward on the 30 documents required by the Kazakhstan government before they will approve us for adoption and refer a child to become part of our family.  Please do not ever get in my way when I am on the move, especially when it concerns my child!  I am waiting on 2 documents, getting 9 of them notarized and driving down to Olympia next week to get the whole set apostilled.  It should be in the mail to our agency by Friday.  If there is an Emmy for fastest dossier assembly ever, then could someone please nominate me for it?

God will lift up, God will lift up, lift up your head

Now we go to Monday.  A month ago, the sentencing for the couple convicted of abusing their adopted Kazakhstan children was rescheduled.  For Monday.  Our ambassador is in Kazakhstan and meeting with the government.  On Monday.

I know that the Lord secures justice for the poor and upholds the cause of the needy. ~ Psalm of David

Do you believe in God?  Maybe you do, maybe you don't.  Maybe you've never thought about it.  Maybe you think religion is simply a crutch, clung to by the desperate.

I am desperate.

Pray.  You don't believe in prayer?  Pray anyway.    Have you ever thought there might be a God out there and wondered if He listens to you?  Pray.  Have you ever thought that if there was a God that He should prove His existence to you?  Pray.  Ever wondered why God doesn't act against injustice and answer the cry of children in need?  Pray.  I'm begging you, on my knees, get down on your knees and ask God to move. Move heaven and earth in defense of these children.  Move in mighty ways against wickedness and to prove love.  Pray. Am I bossy?  Forcing my beliefs on you?  Bias in my way of life over yours?  I don't care.  I care about one thing and one thing only.  People who deserve it, going to jail for the rest of their lives, never able to hurt an innocent child again - for justice - and to show the Kazakhstan government that those people do not speak for the countless families who are honored at the opportunity to embrace a child as their own. This week could change our lives forever.  Pray, please pray.

Through waves and clouds and storms, He gently clears the way
Wait, because in His time, so shall this night
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy ~ Jars of Clay

Sports Camp, August, and the Story Behind the Wait

Bard and Evie at Sports Camp

It's been exactly one month since my last blog post.  Our lives have been a whirlwind but unfortunately not a whirlwind of adoption movement :(  I thought it would be good to let you know what we've been up to, what we're looking forward to, and although I haven't mentioned it before now, what's behind all the delays.

Last week I finished my biggest work event of the year-Sports Camp. Over a hundred and fifty children from the community came and played all week with us; it was awesome!   Bard volunteered, along with 140 other volunteers and Evelyn was old enough to participate as well, which she loved!  But, it meant a sitter every night for Cici, doubling my work hours for the month of July, and after all the stress, now our whole family is sick :/

A lifetime ago, I had imagined getting "the call" while preparing for Sports Camp.  Because, I originally thought our dossier would be turned in sometime during June and hoped to have a referral by the end of July. That was pretty optimistic, even for me, and as time went on we realized that we probably would not even be submitting our dossier this summer.  So, then I just hoped to hear Kaz would open this month, and for a brief time, it looked like that might actually happen in the middle of July.  There are a few officials in Kaz who were ready to sign off on the reopening of US adoptions and on July 11th and 12th I was holding my breath and checking my email every few seconds.  But, the 12th came and went with no opening and the officials went on vacation.  Until the first week of August.  They must not have realized that if they had opened on the 11th they would have given me the most incredible birthday present ever!!  Kaz, like many European and Asian countries, has way better vacations for its employees than we do, a fact that has never been more upsetting than now.  So, in my mind, if they are on vacation until the first week of August, they should be back at work Thursday, I'll give them a day to respond to all their emails, and then the country reopens Friday, right? Well. Perhaps not.  So, I'm in limbo now, for another 3 days.  Then on Friday I begin my climb into hope again. August is hope month.  Hope for a quick reopening.  Hope for the fastest ever dossier assembly, translation, and submission.  Hope for a baby.

Every other adoptive family knows what we're going through-the constant cycle of delays, hope, and more work.  That's why the reason for the delay is all the more frustrating.  We found out sometime in spring what the hold up was but I debated sharing it because, well, I'm honestly not sure why, it just seemed  awkward. If you do a tiny bit of research, you can discover the reason yourselves, and there have been articles recently in the international news.  So, since it's kinda out there, I figured I may as well share, from our perspective. The short story is that every adoptive Kaz family is required to submit yearly reports, until the child is 18 years of age. When you first begin your adoption process, you are made aware of this fact and often pay up front for many of the reports-which is what we did.  Now, about a year ago, there was quite a hullabaloo regarding a ranch (oddly, just a few states over from where we live) that took in high risk internationally adopted children. Apparently there was a licensing disagreement with this ranch and local government (read between the lines or google it for yourself) and the Russian government got involved due to some of their adopted children being at the ranch.  Tip-if the Russian government is criticizing someone's care of children with special needs, that is a bad-almost to the point of being ridiculous- sign.  Turns out, there were Kaz children at the ranch as well and turns out, those families had not filed their reports.  Turns out, that made the Kaz government quite upset-and rightfully so in my opinion!  As I've said before, Kazakhstan has an adoption process that is quite a bit more stringent than other countries.  You could be cynical and argue why they operate in such a manner.  But I've read many adoptive Kaz blogs and I truly believe they care greatly for their orphans.  Kazakhstan is unique when compared to many other Central Asian and Former Soviet Union Countries.  Their economy, government, and unity differs from countries around them and is due to a variety of reasons, some of which go back centuries and some of which stem from how Kazakhstan's leaders ushered their country out from under the fall of communism.  I'm reading a fascinating book right now that details that journey, The Lost Heart of Asia by Colin Thubron.

In any case, the Kazakhstan government said that they would not reopen to US adoptions until those families were found and the reports updated.  So began the great game.  Finding the families, getting them to schedule the social worker's visits, filing the reports.  That was early May and by the end of June, both families had filed their reports.  Early July, the reports had been read by Kazakhstan government officials and were seen as favorable. Holding breath. Officials gone on vacation.  Exhale.  If only, if only, if only. Since this is the 2nd or 3rd time in our process that there has been an externally imposed wait period, in which I had no adoption activities to busy myself with, I've noticed a pattern. So for the last few weeks, and probably at least the next few days, I've just stopped.  Stopped haunting my email. Stopped checking adoption forums every day.  Stopped searching for new blogs.  I've had a swarm of work to keep my slightly distracted.  But now I can sense the tide changing again.  In almost a physically charged manner, I'm being pulled back into the hope cycle and am ready to dive, again, into the waves of unknown.  I'll find another Kaz blog and read it start to finish. Daydream about the news of reopening.  Lay out the steps for completing our dossier. Finish The Lost Heart of Asia.  Try my hand at cooking traditional Kazakhstan cuisine (does anyone know where I can get mutton?!)  In essence, immerse myself in Kazakhstan as much as I possibly can until I can actually be in the country itself.

So there you have it. I have high hopes for August.  High, apple pie hopes for the actions of a few people, for a country to reopen, for a dossier to be completed and for all the intricacies involved in those momentous steps to fall delightfully in place before my waiting eyes.  C'mon August, don't let me down!

No News is Good News? Nope, Only Good News is Good News!

And even good news is subjective, sometimes I think how I feel determines if the news is good or not.  Last week we heard that Kaz should be open in July or August.  Which had hopeful families across the country squealing with glee.  But not me, because I was swallowing tears into a pit in my stomach.

I don't know.

Originally we heard Jan or Feb, and honestly, in the adoption scheme of things, this is not such an abnormal delay.  But June has been a deadline in MY mind since last winter, so to be counting down the last days of June, not knowing if we can finish our dossier within a few weeks or within a few months seems pretty discouraging.

The tick tock of the clock is painful.  All sane and logical

Plus, we have tons of waiting ahead of us, so I want to be done with this waiting room and go into the next one, which I'm sure will also be windowless, stocked with magazines from 2008, and have no clock except the one drumming in my head.

I want to tear it off the wall.

Yet, I will wait.

Coincidentally (?) on this emotional roller coaster-and I used to like roller coasters-the ups have been blatant reminders of how sweet success can be.  And, since I have already established how utterly brilliant I am at picking up on signs, it's no surprise that it took me a few days to appreciate the artistry of my waiting journey.  First I heard my song.

Nope.  I didn't just hear it.  The sky sung it to me.  I was driving, and the sky was so big.  And if that sounds familiar to you, it was familiar to me too and kind of messed me up.  I don't know why.  Something about the music and the sky, together, was different than they have been before.  The experience was just so striking, almost visceral.  I actually took a moment and wrote a note to myself about it, thinking, I need to remember this little slice of time.

Then the next day, I heard the song again.  Then again.  Then, after waiting anxiously all day to hear a court ruling on a domestic adoption for friends mine, the judge ruled in their favor!  And immediately after, I heard the song again.  The following day another friend (a Kaz PAP from Canada) completed the waiting period-making her little boy officially, hers.  And I heard the song again.

Are you sick of all my posts on waiting?  Me too!  I mean, how many different ways can I write about the same experience?!  Last week my whole chest felt tight with waiting.   How do you wait with strength and not just get frustrated?  When it's the middle of the night, how do you know joy comes in the morning?  But isn't it an interesting coincidence that I saw, and heard, so much success all around me?  Other people's experiences provided a whole new feeling of hope.  Nuanced, but hope nonetheless.

My hope is really that I learn to remember, and remember faster than I did before.  If I wander, I want to return, and be sealed, I know where I belong and I am not enslaved to my emotions. I don't want to wait, holding on by the skin of my teeth, frustrated and anxious the whole time.   I want to wait with strength.  I don't want to cling to the idea of morning, while drowning in the night, I want to have the joy of the morning with me, in the midst of the night. It's so easy to wallow in waiting.  Forget wallowing, I want to dance!

So if it's not the good news that I want, I'll fake it til I make it!  We got our FBI fingerprints in the mail today (we both were cleared in case you were wondering.)  Now we need to get the second set and that step will be finished. I'm contacting our agency next week-she was hoping to see forward movement by the Fourth, which could maybe mean we start getting our dossier notarized and apostilled.

We're so close, I can feel it!  Maybe my next post will be the best post ever! Worth the wait :)

Scattered

In the Pacific Northwest, there are twenty different ways to forecast rain.  This is funny to me because in Russia, they have twenty different ways to label snow!  I've only been to Russia in the summer, so I don't know if there really are multiple different, yet accurate descriptions of snow, but I've lived here all my life and I can definitely attest to the fact that there are numerous kinds of rain. By far the most common, scattered showers.  Which is appropriate because that describes my mental state-I mean really, what on earth does Russian snow terminology have to do with anything?!  And, I think scattered showers is a fairly apt description of the adoption process as well.

Let's see.  Weather-wise, scattered showers could mean that it's cloudy all day, raining off and on.  Or, it could mean that it's sunny all day, but some light showers might blow through, once, twice, six times.  Or, it could mean that it's sunny on one street, raining on the next.  In fact, certain parts of the SAME city get noticeably less rain per year than others-and we're not talking big cities, folks, changes just within a few miles are pretty common!

Mama and Dancer :)

That's my mind these days, scattered.  I'm not sure if it's mostly sunny with some rain here and there, or all clouds, accompanied by cold rain.Go ahead and ask me, and if you don't like the answer, wait a minute, I'll change!  I've had some serious moments of sun-Evelyn's first dance recital.  She performed her tap piece onstage while I watched from the wings and then her ballet piece onstage-with me-since I was her teacher!  That theater is home to me and those women are family.  Some of the strongest, most beautiful, and talented people I've ever had the pleasure of working with-and if that's work then I feel bad for people who are sitting in an office!  Evelyn's stage debut was accompanied by visiting family-more sunshine-which led to a bit more busyness-slight chance of shower, Cecilia coming down with a cold-showers turning into rain, but no one else got sick-showers mixed with sun made a rainbow, and a trip with family to the Olympic Peninsula-busy but fun and worth it to be with out of town family-sunny with clouds blowing through.  I lost myself-I can't even keep up with my own weather, for that and about 17 other reasons, it's good that I'm not a weather girl.

The Coast on our trip-cloudy or partly sunny?!

We've experienced some more changing weather.  Because my dance recital (oh yeah, I was kinda in charge of a hundred backstage volunteers) wasn't enough on top of the adoption process, Bard also had his last day of work on June 6th and starts his new job-as CEO (he has always been an over-achiever, it's super annoying!) on the 17th.  Which also happens to be our wedding anniversary, yay.  But, aside from some clouds on the horizon, let's hope that process stays mostly sunny.

Which is the forecast for our adoption process, clouds clearing, sun breaks to follow!  It looks very positive for Kazakhstan to open soon.  The necessary paperwork on the part of our government is being turned in and then it's just a matter of state departments meeting and giving the all clear.  I'm very hopeful for this month, especially as I will turn into a raving lunatic if it's much longer. . .Also on the plus side, our I800a is being processed; we're being finger printed (again) next week, this time for USCIS and although when I talked to the lady at the FBI, she hadn't processed our (second) pair of fingerprints yet, she thought it would be next week.  Everything is coming up roses!  Or should I say tulips, since that flower originated in Kazakhstan? Take that Dutch!

Okay, not sure why I am slamming on the the Dutch, just getting carried away, weather is such a controversial topic! Interestingly, the region in Kazakhstan where we will be adopting from has a continental climate.  Its summers are like ours, warm and dry-not too hot or humid, its winters get a bit more cold and have less rain.  I wonder what season it will be when we are there for our bonding process? With the time requirements, we could see two seasons, but I'm going to hope one is not the dead of winter.  I may have to piss off PETA and embrace the Kazakh culture of wearing fur.  When in Rome. . .

Whatever the weather, I know our circumstances will be a mix of clouds and sun, storms and calm skies. Of course, sunny skies for adoption last about as long as they do for the PNW, but it's so stinking gorgeous when it happens, we'll take what we can get and be grateful.  After all, clouds may blow in and blow out, but the sun never goes away, it's always there, never changing. Clouds are temporary, just like circumstances. And if clouds seem scattered, it's only because they are compared to the sun, which is constant.  Maybe it's hidden, maybe you can't feel it's warmth, but it's there, waiting, right behind the clouds, and it will always come out again.

Godspeed!

I'm not sure exactly where that phrase comes from, but I am very sure that in the entire history of mankind, it has never been used with more meaning than today.  Today, the day our Home Study was signed on and sent off with our I800 so we could officially apply to adopt our child!  Yay!!!!  The adoption process is defined by waiting, waiting, waiting, not getting anything done, and still, always, having one more thing to complete, re do, and then wait on.  So, two such big milestones is an awesome accomplishment.  Now, we have to undergo yet another fingerprinting process (our third) and wait to hear back approval from the US government that we can adopt internationally.

Our completed I800, now on it's way to USCIS!

And while we are waiting for that approval, we are also waiting on more paperwork, although when I thought before that some paperwork was out of my control, that was just the tip of the iceberg.  This paperwork is REALLY out of my control-it's paperwork that will lead to the reopening of Kazakhstan to US adoptions.  As soon as this paperwork (have I said paperwork enough?  No, there is never enough paperwork for adoptions!)  is filed, then our governments just need to have a little chat with each other and all will be well. The paperwork is on our side, but hopefully once it's resolved, things will move fast (which in the adoption world never happens but I am ever the optimist and sure all my little ducks will be in a row when in reality one of them is probably swimming in the wrong ocean and I will move heaven and earth to get it, but hey, that's what I do) and then not too long before I get my long imagined phone call.

You see, months ago, when we first started this process, I started imagining my phone call.  Where would I be?  At work?  At the Y?  With Bard?  Driving? What would they say?  How would I respond?  Scream?  Cry?  Because how would you respond if someone called you and told you they had a baby on the other side of the world for you, and would you like to come pick him up? Yes please.  That's the referral call.  Accompanied by an email with pictures of the most darling boy ever.  But we can't get that call until we turn in our dossier-all the forms required by the Kazakhstan government to adopt-and we can't finish those forms until Kazakhstan is officially open to US adoptions. Interesting fact about Kazakhstan, they are considered to have very good orphanage care, when compared to many other countries. Their First Lady has invested in the orphanage process, increasing the quality of care to orphans all over the country and even visiting the Baby House that we will likely travel to when we meet our child.  Some houses have music lessons, swimming pools, and different kinds of therapy!  Which is a reason why many people choose

First Lady Nazarbayeva

Kazakhstan to adopt from, because they know their children are getting better care than many orphans world wide.  So when we do get that phone call, that we have been referred to a child, it helps to know that he will be in good hands. Even though I have imagined that phone call for months, I am now imagining another phone call.  Actually an email but that is not as dramatic, so nowhere near as fun. Soon and very soon, I am going to get an email stating that Kaz is open.  And then I will scream and cry.  And then I will bust my ass (and that of anyone who tries to slow me down) to complete our paperwork in record time.  So that I can get my next phone call.  So that I can get on a plane.  So that I can go meet my baby.

Open.  Open.  Open.  I am just sure I can will things to happen.  I can't explain it, but I feel positive.  Maybe it's because I like getting things done.  Maybe it's because I know a family in Kaz right now, bonding with their little man who is likely the same age our little boy will be when we meet him.  Maybe I feel positive because this process is growing me, changing who I am as a person, helping me to be comfortable in a waiting time of unknown and being used to deepen my love.  A friend once said that love is like a muscle-it has to be stretched to get stronger and often that stretching involves pain.  As I type this my triceps are killing me because I upped my weights this morning during my work out.  When you are sore the night of a work out, wow, the next day will be real fun!  But I have experienced continual stretching throughout this process, to the point of intense pain, and over and over again I hear, "Wait." Yet while I am waiting, there have been several clear moments when I feel so much love for this little boy, I have a physical reaction - I know that waiting is part of the process, making me ready for my little one.

Lately, waiting has been the theme of my life in so many areas.  We have been waiting through this adoption process.  We have been waiting on Cici's health issues.  We have been waiting to find out about a new job for Bard. In the past few weeks, all three of those issues hit major milestones.  And yet, we are still waiting!  I wrote in another blog that "I Will Wait" by Mumford and Sons has become a bit of an anthem for me.  I seem to hear it in the moments that I most need a release and it's almost cathartic.  You might laugh but I've thought about getting a tattoo about waiting because it does seem to be a permanent part of me!  I think I am learning to use "trusting" as a synonym for waiting.  In that sense, waiting can be a time of rest, not strife.  And the focus can be on hope, not despair.  So as I wait to hear from our government (probably the ultimate test of waiting and trusting!) and from the Kazakhstan government, I really do mean godspeed.  Not in a fast sense, since sometimes God is achingly slow, but just in a right sense, with rest and hope. Godspeed means the perfect speed.

Woven

Open, open, open.  Anyone remember these commercials?  They went virile before there was virile and were quoted and spoofed for years after they aired.  And although I could not even tell you where to find a Mervyns now (I think they may have gone bankrupt, how is that for failure of a marketing campaign?!) I can still hear that little voice in my head "Open, open, open." Except now it's a big voice and screaming incessantly, getting louder with the rising of my blood pressure!

Let's backtrack, shall we?  Our home study is done, everything turned in, report sent to the agency for corrections and then coming back to us for any final input before it is rushed. . .off to sit on a shelf and gather dust.  Why? Because Kazakhstan is still not open to adoptions from the US.  After being expected to open at the beginning of the new year (ours, not theirs), we are still waiting to hear that they are open.  Open.  Open.  Oddly enough (and most of you will not believe me) but I haven't been too stressed about the delays.  I'm not sure why, probably a combination of faith, trust, hope, and distractions   I've been distracted because although we finished 98% of our home study over a month ago, we have been waiting on two final documents.  One from me, and one from Bard.  Mine was a total blooper, something that I should have done ages ago.  Listen up folks, never put off til tomorrow what you can do today because it might come back later and bite you in the adoption butt.  Bard's was very frustrating though. And as much as I would like to go into the details and completely slander someone who so royally got on my bad side that I am surprised the universe didn't implode from the pure pressure that was exuding from every pore in my body, I will restrain myself.  Let's just all be thankful that my husband is for more mature than I am and that every once in a while I listen to his voice of reason. However, I will give you a little cookie in that I may or may not have uttered the phrase, "I can't even imagine why you are doing this to us, are you against international adoptions?  Because there is an orphan on the other side of the world waiting for us to bring him home and we are waiting on you." You groan, but the next day we had our paper-after two months.  Silly people, if you would stop giving into my tyrannical displays, maybe I wouldn't behave so tyrannically :)

Either way, those two obstacles took way longer than should be legal for someone trying to meet her child, and so it didn't really matter that Kazakhstan was still closed to the US.  The day those forms were completed the full force of my attention turned toward the current problem.  Remember in Jurassic Park when the dinosaur spots the kids, turns and bears down on them like a freight train with snappy teeth? That's me (I am full of 90's cultural references today!) except I have no where to run because I can't see where I'm going and I'm not the one in control of end goal anyway.    That is so irritating.    And before you jump to conclusions, it's not Kaz I am waiting on, it's our own government, agencies, and people here in the US taking their sweet time.  I don't know why, but somehow that is oddly relieving, yet also incredibly annoying. And in the meantime, Russia is apparently considering lifting their ban on US adoptions, to which my response would be the same as when they first made the ban legal.  Oh wait, Bard wouldn't let me blog that either, you all need to talk to him, this blog would be SO much more colorful if I said what was in my fun little head!

So, where are we now?  Waiting.  We had originally hoped to turn in our dossier sometime in June.  And while if Kaz opened immediately and we put our dossier together super fast, that might still be a possibility, it is looking less and less likely.  So we wait.  That's the adoption process:  hurry, hurry, hurry, wait, wait, wait.  Pieces from all over the world have to come together in a complicated and pre determined order.  One piece can't be in place without the other and if a different piece comes undone, it can bring many more crumbling down with it.  And most frustrating, I don't even know what all the pieces are and which order to put them together in.  Or even the final product!

A Kazakh shanyrak at the top of a yurt.

Years ago, a decade now, when I was going through a challenging time in my life, someone told me the analogy of a tapestry.    Sometimes all you can see is your little threads being woven together.  From your limited perspective, the tapestry just looks like a colorful jumbled mess. You might not even be able to see the front of it, but are likely just looking at its back-torn off threads unraveling with no apparent purpose!  But time gives you a bigger picture. As you move further and further away from your own little spot, you can see patterns emerge.  Threads and colors blending together creating shapes, something new.  You look at it from the other side, designs and symmetry are visible.  Each small, seemingly chaotic piece has somehow been woven into a beautiful story.  How?  Someone had a plan, a purpose, and set out to turn knotted threads and snipped off ends into a piece of art.

Thank you Kelly, for our shanyrak.

Tapestries are quite prevalent in Kazakh culture,  from rugs to wall hangings.  But easily the most recognizable, and culturally important item woven together, is the shanyrak. Made from intersecting wooden beams it is used to center the yurt. As a nomadic people, Kazakhs resided in yurts, dome like structures, on the steppe for countless generations.  The final piece of the yurt was the shanyrak, allowing light and ventilation, but also providing a deeper element.  The shanyrak became a family heirloom, handed down from generation to generation. Just as the woven wood centered the yurt, the shanyrak also symbolically reflected peace and calmness as the center of family life. As we watch our own story being woven together, we have been given a shanyrak, created from love to remind us of our center: peace, of threads of life being woven together, wandering and being found in family.  Peace only comes from trust.  From faith.  From hope. This shanyrak, given by a dear friend, lets Light into our home.  And that is what I most want to be open.  And that is the reason for this whole journey.

Maternity Session

The Kazakhstant pendant Bard gave me.

 I never did a maternity photo session.  I  have seen many gorgeous
 photo shoots of women-stunning, alive, about to become mothers.
 And I think it's a beautiful idea, just not one that I have been drawn to,
 until now.  But these photos do not capture the baby growing inside
 me, they capture the love, growing inside all of us.  And they were not designed to show a timeline, an expectation of how much longer we had to wait.  Just that we are waiting. Expectant.  Hoping.

Holding our horse, brought back from Kazakhstan.

I read another adoption blog not too long ago, that talked about how it takes a village to go through an adoption, just like a regular pregnancy. But perhaps even more so.  With a biological pregnancy, every time you see the expectant mother, you are reminded of what she is going through and a pregnancy comment or question is on the tip of your tongue.  With an adoption, every time I see someone, the adoption is on the tip of my tongue.  Honestly, it's all I want to talk about with anyone, from grocery store clerk to close friend.  This. Is. My. Life. And I am fortunate to be surrounded by a village of people who get me. When Chelle first took these photos, she posted one right away, saying that people going through the adoption process shouldn't have to wait for one more thing!  She is an amazingly talented friend, (check out her work here) one who has been taking our family photos for years. But never before has she captured our hearts, our prayers, our lives, so powerfully. So beautifully.

Evelyn wearing her Kazakh vest and hat.

You can see all the photos she took by clicking the link on the right, and check out her blog for the write up she did for our shoot.  In fact, you should stop reading this blog and read her write up of our pictures!  She wrote what I needed to read and those thoughts have never been outside my head.  That's the village.  Friends who send me links to ideas for photo shoots, interviews about adoptions, webinars for adoption support.  Friends who ask me how the process is going, what they can pray for, and that are crying, and waiting, with me.  That's the village. And just as a waistline grows with a biological pregnancy, so my support grows with this adoptive pregnancy.  Just knowing that people are thinking of me, of my family, of our growing family, is incredibly meaningful.

There is an old saying, "It's the thought that counts."  I don't know how it was originally intended, but let's be honest, often times that saying is used as a cop out!  Which is too bad, because the thought does count, and it counts a lot. I've never really thought about why some women do a maternity photo session and why I wasn't interested in one.  But I thought about this photo shoot.  At first it just seemed like a really fun idea.  Then I thought about it some more.  And I realized that it would be a moving expression of where I'm at right now; where our family is at, captured in art.  Then I thought about it some more. And I realized that this photo shoot wasn't for me.  Because what it ultimately captures is the thought behind our adoption.  You see, some day, a lifetime from now, but relatively soon, I will bring home a little boy.  And he will be young, innocent, completely unaware of the life he should have experienced. But he will learn.  And as he grows, he will grow to understand that someone gave him up.  And no matter the reason behind her decision, the fact remains the same, his mother left him.  And I, as his mother, will watch this dawning realization with terror and grief.  I will want to fix him, to stem the sorrow, to make all the hurts go away.  But I can't, won't, be able to.  Because at each stage in his life, he will grieve in a new way.  And so as he faces each new stage, I

Praying for baby brother.

must be ready to face it with him.  To let him grieve.  To let him feel. To cry and to pray and to do anything possible to show him love.  And so I thought about these pictures.  Even now, half way across the world, somewhere, with someone, is my son.  Maybe he has already felt hurt and confusion at who loves him.  But I love him.  And in any way I can, I will show him that he is wanted, loved, longed for.  Before he was born, I wanted him. Before he opened his eyes, I dreamed of what color they would be.  I celebrated his first Christmas, his first Easter, his first photo shoot.  Some day, he will see these pictures.  An undeniable visual message of love. Photographs to show we are planning for him. We are excited to meet him. We are praying for him.  And he is part of our family.  Maybe a maternity photo shoot is designed to capture the beauty of a new life.  To me, and my family, this photo shoot captures all our new lives.  The beauty in a new hope.  A new love.

Happy New Year!

A traditional dance to celebrate Nauryz.

Nope, you didn't click on an archived post :)  It's the New Year in Kazakhstan!  Like much of Central Asia and the Middle East, Kazakhstan celebrates Nauryz, or the Persian New Year on March 21st and 22nd.  This holiday marks the coming of spring, an important time for the ancient nomadic steppe tribes because it meant their livestock could feed better and cold temperatures were on their way out.  Through a lot of searching, and contacting the University, I discovered a few local celebrations, however, due to illness and previous plans, we were unable to attend any of them. :(  But, you can be sure we will be Rockin the Persian New Year next year, hopefully with a new little Persian!  Okay, we're not adopting a Persian child, modern day Persia is mostly Iran and I have a feeling that adoption route is closed tighter than Russia, but you know what I mean ;)

It's considered best if you cannot see any part of the table!

So what does one do for a good ol' fashioned Kaz New Year?!  Well, let me tell you!  Because the holiday is closely tied with spring, many of the traditions associated with Nauryz represent a newness, a freshness.  People clean everything, purchase special new clothes, and put up decorations-sound familiar?  And of course, just like holidays across the world, Nauryz features food, food, food!  I actually found a little Middle Eastern Grocery store just a few miles from my house!  Because we've been sick, and because I now keep the Kaz Embassy's list of requirements for the dossier open on my desktop, so I can spend time stressing about it, I broke one of the rules of celebrating Nauryz-all food should be homemade.  I do love to bake-as witnessed by my Irish brownies over the weekend (you may have never heard of Irish brownies, let's just say you can make anything "Irish" ;)). And next year I look forward to hosting a full on Nauryz Party, but for this year, I learned as much as I could (read more here) and then adapted it to what would work for us, right now.  The number 7 is also very important and the traditional Nauryz food, Kozhe, features 7 ingredients.  Further research has led me to believe this dish, like their tradition of drinking fermented mare's milk, may be an acquired taste that I will save up for experiencing when I am actually in Kazakhstan!  But our trip to the deli was successful and I created some treats, all featuring the 7 main ingredients with a Kristin twist-bonus points if you can figure out the item that represents me.  Yummy! There are many other events associated with Nauryz.  Planting trees and cleaning up parks, sporting games-mostly involving horses although a goat's head may also be found (!), big family gatherings, charitable events, and shows.  A mixture of honoring old traditions and celebrating them in a new way.

My own version of Nauryz Kozhe!

As a history major, I love the idea of learning about ancient traditions.  And as an adopting mom, I love even more the concept of merging something old with something new; expanding, growing, developing.  So today we got out our Kazakh music CD, we read our book on folk tales from the steppe, we ate our treats from the deli and we prayed for our little baby brother.  There's no way that the girls can fully understand what bringing a new family member into our home will mean for them.  There's no way that I can imagine what this new year will bring to us.  But I do know that change, even when painful, brings growth.  And that when we grow, we transform into something new, something previously unknown.  So Happy Spring and Happy New Year! Embrace the newness, it will make you stronger, more unique, and who knows?  Maybe your life will be transformed this year, in ways you cannot even possibly imagine!

Making Home

Hold on, to me as we go

As we roll down this unfamiliar road

Did you ever end a relationship with someone and notice that every time you turned on the radio all you heard was horrible break up songs?  Music is the back drop of our lives.  Those of you who know me, know you will never get me to sing in front of people, but if you know me really well, you know that I'm always singing!  When I was a camp counselor, my name was Jukebox :) Because, whatever we were doing, it always reminded me of a song, and because it's easier to make a fool of yourself in front of kids, I would always start singing it!  Fast forward (whoosh!) to now, when every song I hear, seems to be about adoption.  The odds of that are pretty slim, especially since I mostly listen to pop music.  But there are three songs that are played constantly right now and they all speak so strongly to my heart.  One is the Mumford and Sons song that I quoted in a previous blog. (See it here)  Another is Phillip Phillips.

And although this wave is stringing us along

Just know you're not alone

Cause I'm going to make this place your home

The theme for my week has been creating a place for our baby, which has ran parallel to making our home-and my mind-ready for our first social worker visit.  We had finished the painting and put out the main items. All that was left was little details such as setting up his bedding and hanging his special vest-brought back from Kazakhstan.  The room, and baby's area was finally done.  Just looking at it made me smile. But it also made me sad.  It's hard not knowing when there will be a little one sleeping that bed.  And it's hard not knowing when Kazakhstan will officially open, to make that little one a possibility.

Settle down, it'll all be clear

Don't pay no mind to the demons

They fill you with fear

The trouble it might drag you down

If you get lost, you can always be found

So we keep moving forward.  Not really knowing what we are walking through, just what we are walking to.  And even though I was nervous, it was still a great step, another obstacle tackled, to have the social worker come visit last week. She was very nice and I thought the visit went really well. We have our second visit this Saturday and the report should be filed within a few weeks.  Mostly we went over questions that Bard and I have already answered, in one of the 7 jillion forms we've turned in to our agency.  But some questions were new, and some information was new as well-this woman has done hundreds of these visits and has a great perspective on both the adoption process and adopted children.  And to make my house a home for our baby brother, I need to rely on people, resources, like her, as we face challenges ahead.

Just know you're not alone

Cause I'm going to make this place your home

And now our home welcomes you with a little bit of Kazakhstan from the moment you walk up to our front door.  When we bought our house, the previous owners told us that for years it has been referred to as The Apple House.   He didn't know if that was due to the green color o because of the apple tree in the back yard, but we liked it, so it stuck.  While reading up on Kazakh history, we learned that apples first came from Kazakhstan and there are acres of orchards outside the first capital city, Almaty.  Apples grew quite big and were considered a delicacy.  During tsarist and Soviet times the sweet and grape fruit sized apple, the Aport, was hugely popular and shipped all over the continent.  But after the fall and with the ensuing economic difficulties, orchards have been left untended and today's version of the Aport is less impressive.  Interesting to think of an apple no longer being in its glory days, but a little love goes a long way, perhaps the trees could be grafted to create a new orchard.  And, interesting enough, Washington is known as the Apple State, also famous for our many orchards, particularly in the eastern part of the state.  So Bard and I thought we should have a little plaque, by our front door, The Apple House.  Which got me thinking.  We really are combining families, histories, cultures. Melodies and harmonies, different instruments composed into one song. How could all the pieces move together? Bard spent his summers growing up in New Hampshire and his family there has always been an important part of who he is, who he wants to be.  The lake in New Hampshire is family, sanctuary, peace. Home.  What if I brought a bit of it here?  With the help of (my now favorite!) cousin who lives on the family property, I was able to get a small piece of lake driftwood, just in time for Valentine's Day.  I rushed out and bought a little wood carving kit.  I am far from craftsy, but the meaning behind the method comes through.  Grafting families.  Growing together.  A new song.

Just know you're not alone

Cause I'm going to make this place your home

Family Dresser

The old-new-dresser!

I painted our dresser a few weeks ago, the start of Paintegeddon, 2013.  I like painting. Although, I only like painting.  Not the prep.  Not the clean up.  Just the painting :)  There's something so nice about taking a dingy old object and making it fresh, new.  I think we all want a little more of that in our lives.  But in this case, it was a little odd, because this is the third time I've painted this dresser.  And it didn't even start out mine, it was my parents, part of their bedroom set when they first got married.  I painted it when I was pretty much still a kid, white, with little flower knobs, the dresser, not me.  I remember sitting in the garage and feeling pretty proud of myself.  Little did I know that years later I would paint that dresser again, for my first child! And now I am painting it again, for my third child.  A friend gave us his daughter's old dresser to use for Evelyn-it's bigger to hold the millions of leggings she has because she insists on wearing a dress every day, so we could use her dresser for the baby.  And since my goal for February was to create an area for a child who I may not meet for another year, the best way to start seemed to be creating an area for him, a place we would bring him home to.

Baby's sub room, 2nd day of Paintegeddon.

Our room has a little sub room, that we have planned on turning into a space for the baby. Since he will be pretty young when we bring him back, and likely have attachment issues, we want him to sleep in our room for a while.  But, because I am me :) I can't not have a space that is his own.  So, we had to order a crib.  We had to order bedding.  We had to paint the dresser. We had to put out little toys and books for him.  And oh yeah, we had to paint our bedroom three different colors and 80 gabillion coats of paint, because little boys who are being adopted will go back to their birth countries, horrified, if their mothers used only two colors and 78 gabillion coats of paint!

Our room, first coat.

Mid Paintegeddon

But, I love it.  I smiled while painting the dresser, thinking that his little clothes will go in those drawers.  I smiled-on the first coat of paint-thinking how fun it was to create a little area for him, that he is unique and this is a way I can show love, even though he is on the other side of the world.  And I really smiled when the painting was done and I set out his little books and the horse from Kazakhstan.  Little tasks, that don't even have to be done, but I like doing them.  There's plenty of tasks that I have to do, but they are nowhere near as enjoyable-these are personal.  Part of me is nervous about having the social worker come this week, and I have a lot more of those not so enjoyable tasks to complete before our visit (although Bard has me beat since he redid a huge patch of sheet rock in our front room!) But part of me is excited.  Excited to show someone how anxious we are to have our little one join us, how much we want to prepare for him coming home to our family.  And, honestly, it might sound crazy, but anyone who is involved in this process with us takes on a deeper role. They become the nurse who helps me hear my child's heart beat, the Dr who checks the baby's growth and gives me a due date.  They are part of a huge team of people who are bringing my family together.  Interesting fact about Kazakhstan, the team of people caring for my son (who has likely been born although of course we are not sure on the timing) right now, are likely very loving and bonded with him.  Unlike orphanage care in SOME countries, Kazakhstan has a reputation of having wonderful caregivers in their orphanages, many of whom grow very connected to their children.

And that's why the dresser was so interesting for me to paint.  It started as being just my parents' dresser.  Then went to their child, then to their first grand child, now to their last grand child, a little boy from Kazakhstan.   It's not even that old, but what a history! Although, I can't paint it again or the drawers won't open, so we're done :)  I love the idea of something of mine becoming something of his. That's family, shared connections.  And that's the real reason I painted our bedroom too.  So it could become his.  When you have children, you mistakenly think that you are adding them to your family.  Nope.  As you share yourself, you change, becoming something new.  I can't wait to see what our new family will be!

Finished!  Our wedding painting that inspired the colors!

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Painting the baby's area of our room.

There are way too many waiting times for an adoption.  It's like the Waiting Room from Hell. Waiting for the stupid life insurance company to get their paperwork back to me.  Waiting for the social worker to call.  Panicking because the social worker called.  Waiting for the stupid paint to dry.  Panicking because why on earth did you paint your bedroom the week before the social worker is coming?  Waiting for Kazakhstan to reopen for US adoptions.  Panicking because Kazakhstan is still closed.  There are a lot of panicking times in an adoption!

People ask me over and over when we will get our baby-not complaining, I'm thrilled when people show interest in our adoption!  But, the honest answer is I just don't know.  When we had been planning on a Russian adoption, there was a pretty good chance (as far as pretty good chances in the adoption world go-which means slim to none!) that we would be bringing our little boy home this year.  With Kazakhstan, there still is a chance that we could have our baby this year, but a lot of variables would have to fall into place to make that dream come true.  And right now, we are really just waiting.

We've been super busy, getting all our paperwork in order (see more on Home Study process: here.  But that is wrapping up-I have the last of most of it:  Bard's birth certificate, our tax report, proof of employment for both of us, FBI fingerprint checks, and my physical. We need proof of life insurance-which is held up, probably because they hate me, and Bard needs to get his physical, but that is about it.  We have to complete 10 hours of Adoption Parenting Classes, and we have 6 done so far-almost there!  And, the social worker.

So, next Saturday, the 9th, a social worker will come to our house for the first of two, 2 and a half hour interviews.  Once that joyful process, and the paperwork, is complete, our Home Study is done!  We started in January (the 16th to be exact) and hopefully we will be done by the end of March-we'll have our paperwork in over the next week, our second social worker visit is March 16th and I don't know how long it takes to process everything.

Kostanay Football

Then what?  Hmmm.  I don't know!  We can possibly start working on our dossier (which is like an extended version of the Home Study-more paper work and it all has to be apostilled!) But, if Kazakhstan is not reopened to US adoptions yet (it is supposed to reopen in late February, but again, in adoption lingo, that could translate to mean April!), we may have to wait, because our agency may not be sure of the requirements and best not to have to do things two, or three times!

Kostanay has many rivers and lakes.

Then, once our dossier is completed (probably a couple month process), we submit it to our government and Kazakhstan.  And wait.  It gets translated into Kazakh and Russian.  Goes to their Ministry of Education.  And from there to the region, Kostanay, where we will be adopting from.  Interesting fact about Kazakhstan, Kostanay is in the central north part of the country and has numerous colleges.  It is also home to FC Tobol, a pretty decent Football Club that has played well across Europe. After our information is taken to Kostanay, they review us to make a referral for a child they feel is a good match. And we wait.  Wait for a phone call that says they have a child to refer to us.  A child.

Ultimately, that is what we are waiting for.  Our child, to join our family.  And so every day that the life insurance takes, they are keeping me from my family.  The hours I spend, and will spend, waiting for phone calls, emails, documents in the mail, packages containing cute decorations for my son's area, are all really just waiting for the same thing. I think this waiting is the most excruciatingly painful and intensely beautiful experience. I want to see my baby.  I want to hold him.  And I want to bring him home.

But I'll kneel down

Wait for now

I'll kneel down

Know my ground

Raise my hands

Paint my spirit gold

And bow my head

Keep my heart slow

Cause I will wait, I will wait for you

And I will wait, I will wait for you

And I will wait, I will wait for you

~Mumford and Sons~

Do You Not Know?

Whoever said adoption was like a roller coaster should be shot.  Okay, that's a little extreme, even for a joke, how about they be water boarded?  Sorry, I can't resist :)  My point is saying adoption is like a roller coaster is possibly the greatest over simplification.  Ever. ! First, a roller coaster is fun.  Second, it is over in seconds.  And the further we get into this process the more I realize it is like a marathon, grueling, painful, draining, and to complicate the matter-you don't know what's around the next bend or when it will end.  It's a waiting game, one that you must be able to see little glimmers of hope in or you will lose.

renew your strength. . .

We're so early into this experience, we have so much ahead of us, but I feel grateful to already have learned so much.  As I mentioned before, surprisingly, everything with the paperwork has gone well, definitely work (it's interesting to take two small children and a crying cat to the vet to get a rabies vaccine since all animals under your roof must have proof of rabies vaccinations) but it's coming along well.  We're ready to schedule our social worker's visit and we're just about done with all the (for now) required paperwork.  It's regular life that has been the marathon.  I shared some about the additional pressures we've been dealing with, and thankfully Cecilia's health is doing better, but this week was still a knock down drag out fight in other areas and by Wednesday I overwhelmed-physically, spiritually, and emotionally.  Interestingly, it was big picture problems getting me down, not the little details.  Which is odd, because I am not one to get stressed over the big picture, but I can be absolutely frantic over the details.

you will soar on wings like eagles. . .

A Kazakh Eagle Hunt.

An old Kazakh proverb states, "There are three things a real man should have, a fast horse, a hound, and a golden eagle." Just a bit of a cowboy culture going on there :)  Hunting with eagles is considered an art, one that has been in practice for hundreds of years and is a valuable part of their culture. The Golden Eagle can reach up to three feet in height and a speed of 120 mph as it soars from above to capture its prey.  Maybe it's because I'm American, maybe it's because they are just spectacular, but eagles seem to embody the very essence of freedom.  I was thinking this week that sometimes our freedom is imposed on by others, but sometimes we place our own obstacles in the way of experiencing freedom.  When I'm teaching my elementary kiddos, we call this a "Baditude" :)  At the start of the week, I was presented with a ton of beautiful little details about the adoption-exactly the way I feel love!  My items from Kazakhstan came in the mail (you may remember that the director of our agency actually bought me souvenirs while she was in country working on the adoption program!)  Sweet little vests and hats for all three children, and a toy horse for Baby Boy's room.  I was so excited! Alongside that fun, I've been able to connect with three women who are adopting (or considering adopting) from Kazakhstan-and one of them just got their referral for a 15 month old boy!! (Sound familiar?!)  So excited for you and your family!  As many of you know, a big love language for me is communication and connection.  Just making these connections, having someone to talk to about all the craziness that's in my head, it means the world to me-helps me cope with the fact that my little son is on the other side of the world.  I feel Love through details, through connections, and that is exactly how I was shown Love.  But if I choose to focus on the big hot mess (I know I said I was too old for that phrase, but it's just so fun!) then I am held captive by my own attitude.  I enjoy no freedom, just slavery.  Only when I open my eyes to all that is happening (ironically, looking at the big picture!) can I soar, on Love, free, above anything that tries to entangle me in depression.

Baby's vest and horse.

you will run and not grow weary. . .

This is a marathon.  And the times that are the hardest, the times that I have to run-to something or from something-are the times when I most need to focus on what's at the end of the marathon.  I might not know when or how this race will end, I might not know the twists or turns, but I know who is running the race with me, and I know who is waiting for me at the end.  And that is all I need to know.  I mentioned in my last post (or one of them, I write a lot, who can keep track?) that I wanted Kazakhstan items for Valentine's Day.  After all, a piece of my heart is there, somewhere in Central Asia.  Bard knew that I wanted a book and music about Kazakhstan but he went above and beyond so much that he gets bonus points for a long time!  He ordered a t shirt for me that has the Kazakh coat of arms on it and a locket that has a picture of the same coat of arms in it-and a place to put a picture of my Baby Kaz.  And yes, the book and music too :)  I'm so thankful to be going through this race with a man like him.  In all that we've been through lately there is one word that comes to mind repeatedly when I think of him.  Integrity.  That is a man I want by my side and that is a man who is a great father, and who will be a great father, to a little boy who needs him so much.  And when I think of that blessing, and know that it is part of my Hope, and Future, then I can keep running.

My locket and girls' vests.

you will walk and not be faint. . .

At some point, maybe we will just be experiencing regular life while going through an adoption!  But I know that it will probably flip flop-the adoption process will become challenging and emotional, while our regular life goes back to (as much as it ever was) mundane.  And eventually, the two will meld into some new, as yet unknown, kind of normal.  Although we're not there right now, I know from past experience that sometimes just walking through life is the most difficult task of all.  If the regular is still regular but the outside is crushing down upon you, it's so hard to get up, get dressed, tie your shoes, and go about your day. When we have to leave our baby in Kazakhstan, after spending a month with him, how on earth will I get up the next day and continue on like my life wasn't just ripped from me?  Renew my strength.  Soar like eagles.  Run and not be weary. I will walk and not be faint because of Truth I am experiencing right now.  Because I will carry this Love with me, no matter what.  Because I know.  Because I Hope.  This is my race, this is my marathon.