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.