DTC

We have now completely entered the world of abbreviations, small and foreign to anyone not adopting, yet mighty powerful capital letters to anyone who has gone down this road before.

We are DTC as of Monday.
That makes us waiting on our LID, which we should already have although we won't be told for a few more weeks possibly.
In the meantime, the big big big one we need is for China to issue our LOA.
As soon as we get the LOA, we send out for the second round of immigration approvals and receive the NVC.
The NVC gets us the Article 5.
The Article 5 gets us the TA.
The TA gets us the CA.
The CA, well that gets us the TD.
And, the TD....that gets our arms around Nannie.


Explanation?
Sure!

We are Dossier to China as of Monday! Whoop! Whoop! 
We are waiting on our official Log In Date, but we think we already got it and will find out soon.
China will issue us a Letter of Approval some time in the next 6 week-4 months.
Once we have that Letter of Approval (LOA) we only have a matter of weeks to get through immigration, receive our article 5, get our Travel Approval and our Consulate Appointment and then we go...go...go! 

From today we could be looking at having Nana home within three to five months.  That is about three to five months too long, but as we wait we are preparing for her in so many ways~ mostly ways of the heart.

The countdown is on!
Lets get that LOA!
Lets get that NVC!
Lets get that Article 5!
Lets that that TA and CA!
Lets get that sweet girl!

Authentication Day (Not entirely a disaster)

Outside the Consulate with our second "number" for service.

Six thirty this morning, no need for an alarm clock, the dudlings begin stirring. The eldest informs me he only half way peed his pants and the youngest, well, he always pees his. Despite actually not being sick anymore the youngest became so used to fussing and grumbling in general that he spent the morning perfecting his already remarkable whine. It sounds a bit like a laughing hyena that has a splinter. Its awful. Two yogurts spills, one gigantic fit over Momma pouring the wrong cereal, and a lost diaper later I started to just step over him laying on the floor in protest. Walk, walk, step over Finn, walk on, breath, walk, step back over him and continue. It worked and we finally got out the door with at least three out of the four of us wearing underwear.

The trip to Grandmas was easy breezy. I read, Jason drove, the boys hunted for trucks and trains. The drop off was a pretty quick pull up, hop out, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, goodbye and we were off to the Chinese Consulate in Chicago.

Fifty miles down the road I go back to read our instructional papers again. Now, please understand, these are like reading a foriegn language if you have not already experienced this. I have read them umpteen times and I suddenly catch a line about the Chinese consulate ONLY being able to authenticate documents from a select few states. I read on, panic setting in. Just last week we were postponed a week when the certified copy of my Ohio birth certificate had to be sent back to Ohio for certification (again). This consulate...the one we are now seventy five miles closer too...can not process two of our documents. Suddenly, our complete and soon to be dossier is not complete. Calls were made to our agency.

We decide to proceeds, we are mere miles outside of Chicago anyway and we just needed the satisfaction of at least one portion of our dossier out of our hands. Enter the consulate...they have moved locations. Find the new one....enter the consulate again, they are on lunch.

Ok, deep breath. Lunch break, smunch break.

We ate some hamburgers and fries and really good gaucemole at the bistro across the street and ran back over right as they opened. Papers organized, our number was called, our hands squeezed together and we handed over our mostly completed dossier for authentication.

Only to have it thrown back at us.

Let me repeat. The lady behind the counter THREW IT at us.

Threw it.

Then a series of really hard to understand( because the mosty broken microphone behind the glass mixed with the workers attitude of absoulte apathy) instructions came pouring through a loud speaker at us.

They wanted three copies of our dossier. We looked over, there was a copy machine in the room but it looked exactly like the one Jason remembers using when he was an elementary student. It was a monster and expensive and frankly we did not have the hundreds of dimes we would have needed for that transaction.

Out of the consulate we trod. "I need coffee.", the only words spoken. My hand in his this man I love walked me straight into a starbucks and came back to my side with a venti bold in his hands. Another call to our agency was made.

This time we were thinking that we would just go to a fed-ex, pay the $800 for our agency to process our dossier, send it to them immediately and be done with it.

But, we had driven all that way to save time and money......

New plan. Instead of doing same day processing for seven hundred something dollars we would submit our papers for five day processing and pay only three hundred. We would provide them with a pre-paid envelope to send the authenticated papers straight to our agency. In the mean time we would have the other two papers (out of state ones) sent to D.C. and then they would all arrive about the same time to be sent to China. The plan was flawless.....AS LONG AS....the consulate would mail the dossier for us.

Jason ran to Fed-EX with our dossier to begin what he calls, "Copying so fast and wildly that his fingers hurt".

I ran three blocks away to the consulate to see if they would mail our papers.

Wait...wait...wait...my number called. The dossier throwing lady was busy, got a slightly more human person this time. Yes, they would mail it. They do it often. No problem. BUT, they will only mail it if we pay with a money order.

Money order?

And here is where things get crazy.

It is 2:10. The consulate closes, doors locked and bolted at 2:30.

And, we need a money order!

Out the doors I run, and I mean run and the thing is I do not run so this is a big deal. Into a bank, no money orders for non customers, but they were kind and pointed me the direction of the post office. Four blocks, two wrong turns, and a line later I had the money order and was again running down the road.

Jason and his hurting fingers are still copying the dossier. Its a huge file of documents, stapled together and none of them can get unstapled and crinkled or its invalid. Old ladies are getting knocked down by me, cars are honking, people are staring....ok, so maybe not but I was running and it sure felt that way. Into the main bulding, up the elevator (wrong floor, try again), swooping through the consulate doors heaving for breath and sweating and grasping that money order so tight that I am numb. No Jason. Clock ticking. No Jason. Our numbers comes up on the screen. Calling B323. I stand to try and stall. I can be tell a joke or something, right? Inside I am panicking. Breathing prayers, trying to calm my heart.

Never have I been so happy to see those brown faithful shoes and familiar blue sweater running down the hallway and through the doors. We were the last customers of the day, the door was locked.

And, its here that one might think "Victory!"....they did it...a mad rush...a wild ride....but it all worked out.

Keep reading.

Money order handed over. Dossier (with copies!) handed over. Both of us are flushed, exhausted, confused and yet our hands touch and I am grounded.

Paper by paper is but into the acceptable pile. And, then...one is handed back, and then another, and yet again a third. The tears could not be held back. They started gushing.

I heard once it is entirely unacceptable to blow your nose in public in China. All I kept thinking was that I was probably offending the man behind the counters with my emotions and snot and salty tears and flushed face. The notary's on all three of those papers were rejected, despite having been approved (and paid for) by the the Secretary of State of Illinois just days before.

New notaries were required.

He said it first. And, I am glad. Jason simply said, "Ok."

"Ok, we will send the rest of the papers for authentication and these three can be done over and sent later this week. Ok."

There were a lot of "Ok's" spoken between the man behind the glass and us.

Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok.

And, then he frowned. Now the money order was the wrong amount, by a lot.

The only way to send these documents and have them processed now the way we were doing (our last chance!) was with that money order.

He looked at my tears. He looked at Jason. There was a long, long, long pause.

"Ok.", he said. "You write check."

And, we did. Then we left. Walked down the busy Chicago streets, past Mussie's favorite restraunt, past the hotel Finn was given first life, passed the parking garage......

Back track, find the car, circle around the parking garage (even that seems difficult). We stopped outside of the city at a gas station and laughed out loud at one another as we met mid-aisle both arms stuffed wtih drinks and snacks we would otherwise pass up on.

We gorged on potato chips and looked forward to seeing the boys, and thanked God for the consulate man's compassion, and watched this tremendous sunset over the mud soaked corn fields.

The exhuastion did not rush away, the tired feet and fingers and overworked mind remained. The file folder at my feet still contained pieces of a dossier we thought would have been off to China by now. But, the sun set beautifully and the papers in the file folder seemed so small.

"Doing what we have to do.", Jason said with a smile as we drove off into the sunset......

Things do not have to work out as planned, or even at all, to embrace the day and give thanks.
 
 
(UPDATE: So, its Friday. Today after co-op the boys and I raced all around town. We were able to fix all the papers with notary problems, get them certified yet again by the State Department, pick up the money order, make copies at Fed Ex and have them all sent off to Washington DC. So I can officially announce that I feel a zillion pounds lighter to have that dossier off of my desk and being processed for China! The boys ate candy and played with my chapstick, literally decorating their faces and arms with it in Fed-Ex as a form of entertainment. I wish I had a picture, but there was no time in between copying this crazy huge document, filling out the right mailing forms and chasing their slippery sugar pumped bodies  through the stationary isles......Moose said tonight after watching a movie, "Man, today has been relaxing......"    And, on that note I am going to bed.)

WhoooHooo!!!

Got home, late.
Carried two sleeping boys in and tucked them in bed.
Stood in bathroom to take out contacts because my eyes were blurry and tired.
Jason slumped next to me and went through the mail.

 An envelope caught my eye. Heart beat quickened.
Nope, shoulders slumped. Just a fancy looking envelope with nothing much inside.

"Looking for this?", he grinned and pulled from behind his back the one single envelope we have been madly, wildly, prayerfully anticipating.

Nan Ling Ling's immigration approval came today.
Tomorrow everything is autheniticated here in the Capital.
Then, off to Chicago for the Chinese Consulate authenitcation.

And, next week....the papers finally go to China.

Four to Six months is the estimate from today.


WHOOO-WHOOOO!!! Tears. Tears. Tears of Joy!

Happy Birthday Pictures!

Nannie looks so healthy, her hair is growing in and her sweet front teeth have come. These pictures are remarkable and they bring us so much joy and hope! She turned two last Tuesday, the cake and things behind her were sent by us through Anne's Red Thread. Oh, how precious these pictures are to us!

The other day someone told me that we have all of these ions in our body and that we need to walk with barefeet on the earth, skin to dirt, in order to balance out our ions...or something like that. In the garage today I was searching for a nail because I am endlessly making holes in the walls hanging pictures and rearranging in order to find something that works, a balance between beauty and functionality.... anyway I was in the garage with barefeet and my toes and heels and arches were freezing, numb, and all I could think of as I looked for the nail was that my ions must have been going crazy on that concret floor in the middle of winter. My toes longed for grass.  And, so outside I ran feet in the buff to the mailbox, savoring every bit of grass and stick and mud clump underneath my feet. That immigration paper that we have been waiting for was still not there.

Bill. Advertisement. AAA Living Magazine. No immigration paper.

Perhaps it was the dirt in my toes charging my ions and creating balace in my nervous system, or perhaps it was the way the cold earth tingled against my feet reminding me how silly I can be sometimes, but either way my heart did not sink, my grin did not fade.

I was barefoot in January standing at my mailbox. Beneath my toes, buried below my eye's sight, seeds and bulbs and fruits of the summer wait, prepare, store away safely and gently and miracuosly. They wait because if in their eagerness they pushed through the earth now, surely they would not thrive. They wait because they are strengthened underneath in the warmth of the earthen blanket. They wait because they must.  I can only imagine those little seeds yearing for the summer sun, being pulled towards the top soil, ready to fight gravity and brave the elements for a chance to blossom. And, yet as much as they were created to blossom they were also created to wait for that day.

And, so was I. Waiting is a part of the story. Even though I can not see it happening beneath the winter earth lay evidence of summer's glory. My toes tingle with the cold as I ran back to my house, empty handed but not empty hearted.  Even though I may not always see it happening, beneath the wait for Nan lay evidence of God's glory in this story.

This is my year of, "Kick of your Shoes For you are standing on Holy Ground".  It is my year of being aware of God's presence and activity and blessings. It is the year where my only "resolution" is to not stand in a stupor before a burning bush with Moses, but to kick off my shoes and acknowledge the God that I love.  The grass was mightly chilly today, but not nearly as bitter as the concrete garage floor.

Shoes off, wind whipped, toes tingling....Oh how good it is to know that summers story is already in motion right underneath my feet.

A Big Piece of Communion Bread

Thursday night, I cried.
Friday, I kept it in mostly because we had company.
Saturday night, I cried.
Sunday morning, I cried. Church time, I sat in the pews holding Finn and feeling the gentle way that he rubs my arms and plays mindlessly with my fingers. He turns back and smiles at me every few minutes to watch me singing and every now and then he finds it hilarious to shove his fist into my mouth and see me try to keep up with the lyrics. I love this. I look forward to this time with Finn each and every Sunday, still tears fell.
We sang, ".......God is good, he is good all the time....."
We sang, ".....He can move the mountains...."

And, when those words escaped my heart and poured out of my mouth I felt them. I trembled.
For days I have wept, heaviness on my heart, the ever present tears at home right below the surface of my smile. Nan Ling Ling is turning two years old tomorrow....in an orphanage....while we are here waiting on paperwork. Oh, how that hurts. How it angers and frustrates and weighs heavily.
I have prayed, and yet we wait.
I have sobbed, sending up my heart to the Lord, and yet we wait.
I have surrendered, and yet we wait.
And, it stings like the winter wind on bare skin. It blows and beats against my soul making me feel raw to the core. 
Raw and yet I know that God is good, and he is good all the time.
Exhausted and yet I know that God is good, and he is good all the time.
Angry and yet I know that God is good, and he is good all the time.

As I walked down the isle with Moose in front of me and Jason behind me I felt like I must have been shaking in my shoes. We were taking steps to the altar for communion and physically there was pain for me as I walked forward. Trusting in God's plan, exclaiming 'God is good all the time', reaching out to take the wine, it all took effort. And, yet my body and my soul and my mind wanted to take those steps. My entire being longed to walk that isle and participate in communion with this God, this God who has not forsaken me, or my child.

Moose took his bread first. He had already looked back and asked me when he could watch a movie (gotta love a kids timing). I reached forward and took my piece of bread.  He looks at my piece and then back to his own. Loud and clear, his sweet little voice spoke up. "Mommy, you got a bigger piece. I think you took two!"

I don't know if I hushed him or not. I do  know that I grinned ear to ear.
In my heart I heard a familiar voice, not auditory, and yet so clearly communicated to my inner most being.
"Take two pieces, Katie. Take as much of me as you want. You will never take too much. You can never take too much communcion with me. All of me is yours. Eat. Eat. Eat. Drink. Drink. Drink. I will sustain you."

And, so even though the paper work is going slower than molasses and even though Nannie will turn two years old in an orphanage and even though I still cry at night in the quiet as I lay next to Jason who simply holds me calmly and strongly and even though there is pain in the steps I take daily as I commune with the Lord....even though....God is good and he is good all the time. 

Walking down the isle hurt, but it tasted so good. The laughter tasted good. The whisper of the Lord to my soul reminding me through my five year old that he desires me come to Him, to share with Him, to take as much as I needed...that tasted good.

So, I am. I am taking two. I am eating and drinking of the Lord more than ever before. And, the hurt is ok because it is intertwined with joy, sweet hopeful precious joy.

Nan Ling Ling, our Guinevere, you turn two years old tomorrow. We will have cake. We will sing for you. We will blow out candles and celebrate you. My wish, of course, will be for you to come home sooner than we expect. And, you will come home and then I can give you cake and presents and hugs and kisses.
But, mostly I want you to know this story. This little seemingly insignificant story.
You have had pain in your life that Mommy will never understand. There has been and will be pain for you as you walk forward, as you grow, and as you take and eat the love of the Lord. Take those steps anyway. Reach out for the bread of life, even if it seems difficult. Joy can live and abound and transform even in the presence of pain.

I will tell you again tomorrow, but let me your ever hopeful and eager Momma be the first to wish you a Happy Birthday. You are loved.

This picture was taken moments before Finn had his siezures and went unconcious. I had no idea the fear and pain that was going to take over mere moments from this picture. I took double in the minutes and days to follow his siezures too. And, it was that bread and wine and communion which was a balm to my raw being.
 On this day, this terrible day, God was good.

God is good, all the time.

As we wait, God is good.

Heart Outpouring

Ling Ling is waiting in China. She does not know she is waiting and that thought comforts me. We long for her, count down the days, and anticipate her in our conversation and planning. We ask questions like, where will she sit at the table? will her car set fit in the middle? will she like the vacation we have planned for the fall? And so we know that change is coming. We wait.




She survives. And, for this I am grateful. Although I pray for her sweet heart to be prepared bit by bit for the coming of her family I am grateful that she does not miss us yet. I could not bare that thought.



If you have ever wondered what it is like to be an adoptive mother here is a little bit of an insight. A small one, perhaps.



In the car earlier this week I found myself talking to Momma Gamo. A woman birthed my son and I wonder if she lives. I wonder if she wonders, if she ever thinks of him. And, in the car the other day I was so overcome with gratitude for my children that I wanted her, I needed her to know how absolutely positively magnificent he is.

"And, you know...", I continued..."he makes this face when he is thinking that can melt a heart, and he is the most tender big brother, and he loves the Lord and thanks Him for things like protection and laughter and chicken fingers." Days come and go and then some days come when I remember that if she is alive she might want to know with all of her heart and soul and might that the little baby she birthed is ok, more than ok, he is thriving and he can read and he loves to write letters to his friends and decorate them wtih car stickers. And, tomorrow he is going on his first ever big boy playdate without me and he is so excited that he keeps telling his baby brother about it while still sweetly saying, "But, I promise Bubba will be back and we will play trains Little Buddy."



Would't that be the stuff you would want to know? If Momma Gammo and I talked, if I could ever know, then today I would tell her that he got a Marshmellow Gun in the mail from his Aunt Karen and he has gone around all day shooting the household with Marshmellows and eating an entire bag with a goofy sticky grin and a slightly taller stance as the marshmellow gun means for him that he is older and braver and somehow more of a man, a man with a marshmellow gun and he knows how to use it.



And, then there is Nannie.

In the midst of wondering if her car seat would fit and if she would be able to wear shoes after her surgery I began to wonder if we had enough clothes for her. We have been bit by bit collecting sweet little pieces and preparing her room. The last piece of paper that we are waiting on from immigration has still not come. I can not control that, but I can go through clothing and prepare and so I do. A half and hour later I called my dearest friend sobbing and apologziing for the call at such a late hour. She did not care. She never does. I sobbed.

"These dresses are to small. They are all too small. All these dresses for her that we have are too small now and she never got a chance to wear them."

I cried because the stupid immigration paper is not here yet. I cried because my baby girl is in an orphanage when we are here in a warm home filled with cookies and clean sheets and perfectly wild brothers. I cried because I had boxed those dresses up and imaged her in them only to now realize that would never come to be. I cried because these moments of her life are passing, moments that I will never get to know as intimately and dearly as I have with Finn the baby that I have birthed and witnessed each and every mind blowing day since. Mussie has taught me that it is ok, painful, but ok to have missed those days. That even without the knowledge of birth and memories and habits and experiences, even without knowing the story of your own precious child, you can walk forward together and forge a deep and loving and permanent bond from which more joy will come than ever imagined. Yet, what I wouldn't give for a baby picture to hang on the wall of him next to his little brother. What a treasure it would be to know if he had a head of curly hair and if he fell asleep nursing on his mothers breast. These are not every day thoughts, not at all, in fact they come only now and then like in moments such as this when I am thinking of my daughter in China who is experiencing a day that I have no idea about.

I can tell you everything my boys did today. But, my daughter...I do not even know if someone touched her. And, that hurts. A lot.

There will be no baby picture for her either, and ultimately that is going to be ok. Every day we spend together from the moment we walk out of the orphanage will make that ok, even it we all mourn that from time to time.

I am so glad she does not miss us now. But, those too small dresses pushed me over the edge as we wait for that one piece of paper. I sobbed. I can't seem to stop. I hold the boys, read to them, pray with them, play trains and cars and chase, and the tears come rushing to my eyes....but they are tears of a two equally strong emotions.

I AM A MOTHER FULLY BLESSED. I HAVE A SON THROUGH ADOPTION. I HAVE A SON THROUGH BIRTH. AND THEY ARE THE MOST PRECIOUS GIFTS I HAVE EVERN BEEN GIVEN ASIDE FROM SALVATION. Then the tears, the same tears, come too for Nan and the dresses and the days going by and I mourn for her in a way that tears me to pieces. I mourn for her to the point that my tears have become moaning to the Lord.

Mussie, Finn and I are studying the Solar System this month at school. Earth is tiny in comparison to the rest of the known universe. Tiny as it is my daughter is so far away tonight. My prayers go up to my God, to the God of the earth, of the universe. The God that spoke all of this mystery into being, the God that gave us these two boys, the God that has always been faithful.....to Him I pray with the heart of a mother to please deliver her home soon.



And, I wait.



This is what it is like to be a mother touched by adoption.

It is beautiful beyond explanation and more difficult than ever imagined. How grateful I am to be on this journey, even though there is pain in the offering.

Labor pains, like with Finn. Gut wrenching, life altering, never seeming to cease pain and yet every part of me moves forward towards the life that is being delivered.



Birth and Adoption, both heavily requiring labor. The contractions for Nannie are coming on strong. Oh, Lord I love you. Please hear my prayer and sustain me with your strength now as I have labored long and I weary.

It was your hand that upheld Mussie and me.

It was was your hand that upheald Finn and me.

It is your hand now that I rest in, knowing she rests there too.
 

And, yes.... of course....the too small dresses were sold to the consigment shop so that new ones would be waiting.