Transforming into 4

Here is a rundown of all the nice gifts Elliott received for his 4th birthday:

• 4 gifts for turning 4: Big Bumblebee, Transformers tennis shoes, Toy Story bilingual book, dry erase board writing set...and the 4 Transformer vehicles on the cake (Mami and Daddy)
  
• Two shirts, pants and John Deere boots! (Granna and Big Daddy)
  
• First season of cartoon Transformers on DVD (Uncle Terry, Aunt Shea, Jackson and Carson)
• Hooded coat (Uncle Grady and Aunt Norma)
• Bumblebee talking helmet (Uncle Kyle and Andrea)
  
• $20 (Granny)
• Peter Pan snow globe from Disney World (Grandmommy and Big John)
• Transformer fishing pole (Papi, Aunt Penny, Kitty and Corgan)
• Army PT t-shirt (Uncle Jeb)
• Transformer Sentinel Prime (Dalton)
  
• Green bucket of Legos (Riley)
• Spiderman activity fun case (Uncle Jack, Aunt Kathy, Jack III, William, Daniel and Augustine)
• Big package of cars (Uncle Joe, Aunt Angela, Justice and AJ)
  
• $20 Granddaddy
• John Deere mower and $5 in card (Grandma and Grandpa)
  

Thanks, everyone!

It might not grow on trees, but how about in flowers?

I failed to mention that beginning in late June 2005 I started working for my friend Scott at his flower shop on Saturdays to earn extra money. My first day there a very alarming weakness was exposed: I can't tie balloons. I have never been able to twist that itty bitty remaining piece of latex around my fingers into a knot. But after numerous demonstrations that day (he deserves sainthood for so many reasons, and this is one of them), I finally conquered balloon tying!

My favorite duties there were the manual labor ones and not the creatives ones; my creativity is severely limited. This worked out well as every other employee there has hated washing buckets, cleaning out the cooler, etc. I loved doing those things. I think it was like the change rolling -- I felt like I was doing something, earning my way toward my baby if you will.

A unique situation presented itself while I was working there. I have always wanted to be as good as Erica at giving "happies" when someone needs one. And while I worked at the flower shop, I had a short lived time of being that person. And it felt so good! I gave more gifts during that 10-11 months than maybe ever combined ;). The benefit, of course, was a feeling of doing good for others combined with taking my mind off the "woe is I, I'm ready for my baby" sob fest.

Side note: I don't say this to brag, but to emphasize that even though I had become obsessed with financing this adoption, I didn't totally lose sight of reality and others who had been so generous to us. We were making so much from our yard sales that I started to feel really guilty about it. So three times Mom and I took part of the profits to other family members who either had medical bills or desperately needed a vacation.

The funny thing is, at the end of my time working for Scott, I think I only cleared $500. But he gave me the opportunity to save my sanity. Thank you, Scott.

All of this to say that when we found out we were #1 on the waiting list (!!!) a few weeks after getting on it in November 2005, Scott and Katie sent me a snowman ornament to work in celebration. In less than a week I will hang that ornament on our tree, like I have every year, and I will always cherish the friends who sent it.

Happy 4th Birthday, Baby Boy!

On Tuesday, November 22, 2005, I was filled with an unexplainable anxiety all day at work. I would find out 2 weeks later that my baby boy was born that day 2000 miles away. My heart knew, it just couldn't translate it to my mind.

On Wednesday, November 22, 2006, Doug and I both took off work to spend the whole day with Elliott.

On Thursday, November 22, 2007, we celebrated Thanksgiving on Elliott's birthday.

On Saturday, November 22, 2008, for the first time we were able to have his birthday party on his actual birthday.

And today, Sunday, November 22, 2009, we are spending a leisurely day celebrating his 4th birthday. My cup runneth over.

Last night I found a website for birth verses. Here is Elliott's:

“Have faith in God,” Jesus answered. (Mark 11:22 NIV)

Amen.

Rest in Peace, Poco

Sad, sad, sad, sad, so very sad. As Elliott and I were pulling in the driveway after lunch, I ran over our outside cat, Poco. We've had Poco for 8 years. And she has always run toward my car when I get home. But today I stopped halfway up the driveway, I think to turn and listen to something Elliott was saying, and when I started forward again I felt that horrible bump. I saw her run off, so I was hoping maybe I had just run over her leg. I left Elliott strapped in his carseat, ran and got the kennel, and as I was trying to load her into it she curled herself into an unnatural shape. She died en route to the vet. Tears.

My sweet daddy buried her in the back lot of the Co-op, and Elliott assisted. I did what I do best: cried and drowned my pain in sweets.

This is the second November in this house that we've lost a cat. Next November I'm sending Priss and Phillip on vacation.

Vegas Day 4: Au Revoir!

I woke on Saturday tired and with a heavy heart. I had not won big in Vegas. I would be returning not with a financial reprieve but with increased debt. Sigh. But I would be returning to my guys who I missed terribly.

Each time I've left NYC I've always thought, "Until we meet again!" But as we headed to the airport I thought, "So long, Vegas! Been there, done that, not coming back!"

On the last leg of the plane home, the others were sleeping, and I was left alone with my to do list for the coming week and my thoughts. The elephant on my chest had returned. When I looked in the mirror when we landed, my chest had broken out in a rash for the second day in a row. The previous afternoon had been while everyone else rested between activities, and again I was left alone with my thoughts. It seems I'm now able to externalize that elephant.

Back to life, back to reality...(sing the 80s song with me!)

What is important, though, is that I can look back on this milestone birthday and know that I spent it with my amazing best friends. Ladies, we'll always have Paris...I mean, Vegas.

I love you all. Thank you.

Vegas Day 3: Slots of Fun

Friday was a big day for us. After sleeping in just a bit, we headed over to Caesar's to eat an early lunch at (Bobby Flay's) Mesa Grill. After checking out the menu but while waiting for it to open, I stopped at a $1 slot machine...

Sidebar #1: When I was in the 1st grade, my dad won a trip to Las Vegas, and I believe it was from a rat poison promo. He and my mom brought me back a slot machine pencil sharpener that really spun! I loved that thing. I wish I knew what I did with it. Anyhoo, he told the story about the Aberdeen manager walking by a $1 slot machine on the way to the bathroom, stopping briefly to put in a $1 and winning $100. I've always loved that story.

Sidebar #2: On Thursday night, Michelle was kind enough to accompany me around Paris and Bally's playing my mom's $20 (with no luck). I kept getting confused about which kind of machine we were playing, and when I happened to win a few credits here and there I would always ask Michelle, "How much did I just win?" to which she usually replied, "$4."

...Michelle tried to talk me out of losing my $1 in one spin. But I just took out that crisp $1 and hit the button. And lo and behold, three 7s. And the credits started racking up, and Michelle started getting excited, and I again said, "How much did I just win?" To which Michelle yelled, "$100!" immediately followed by Holly, "CASH OUT!" Which I did with a huge grin on my face. It was an amazing 30-second high. But, I do have to say that I hate that you get a ticket and not money back out of the machine. I sauntered over to the bill exchanger, put in my ticket, took that wonderfully crisp $100 from the machine, held in it my hands for five seconds with the biggest, stupidest grin on my face...and then turned and handed it to Michelle to pay on my airfare and hotel bill that I owed her. I wish I had a picture of the look on her face. It was awesome. Complete disbelief. Now, I have to confess that I had been dreaming of winning big in Vegas for weeks. No, not $100 big, B-I-G. So I had daydreamed about how I was going to spend it. And then I had downgraded the daydream to a lesser amount, and in that daydream I realized that the first thing I needed to do was pay back Michelle. So I had contemplated this move in advance of winning. It was a complete no brainer. And boy it was fun.

After a delicious lunch at Mesa Grill and browsing around the high end shops at Cesar's, we headed back to our hotel to get gussied up to go see Cirque du Soleil's "O" at the Bellagio. We looked so good that we actually got offered free tickets to clubs multiple times! That show was FANTASTIC! Still kinda like being on drugs, but much more my drugs of choice, ha! On the way out, we heard what presumably was a pimp or at least a sleazy promoter ask the guys behind us if they wanted to go to a strip club. I heard them reply with a very refreshing nope. The others went on to tell me later that these same guys had been talking about algorithms. Tee hee. More to come on this.

We stopped back by the hotel to change (apparently we can only be divas for a short amount of time), but before we headed back upstairs I was bound and determined I was going to play roulette. All day, and maybe part of the day before, I had decided that Black 22 was a winner. And I also decided I had to play while dressed up because that was part of the magic. Go with it. So I nervously approached the table after some consideration, handed over my $20, got 4 chips, placed 2 on Black 22 and 2 on Red 21. The wheel spun, the little ball went around and around, and that little bugger landed on 0. BUT, let the record show that at least 3 tables in the vicinity had hit Black 22 within the last 3 spins. So my instinct about the day and the number were right. I just chose the wrong time and table. Total bummer.

Next we got on The Deuce, a double-decker bus, to head down to Freemont Street. The bus took FOREVER. I had reached a zone of bleh, so I wasn't chatting up my seatmate, a regular ole' guy of about mid 50. His female friend, who was sitting in front of Michelle and Erica, asked him what the name of the bus was on Harry Potter. Well, I couldn't resist piping up, which led us into conversation. When I obligingly asked him why he was in Vegas and he answered for a math conference, Michelle and Erica simultaneously shouted out, "AHA!" They now had an explanation for the dudes earlier talking about algorithms over strippers. As he and his homies were getting off the bus, we heard one woman say to another, "Oh, you must be one of us; you're wearing Pi earrings!" I must be cooler than I previously thought.

Freemont Street was a complete bust as far as I was concerned. It's like the white trash cousin of the Vegas' strip, and that ain't saying much since Vegas is in fact Sin City. But we did get a cheap midnight supper at the Golden Nugget's cafe before getting back on The Deuce. If we thought the first ride was bad, boy were we in for a rude awakening. The ride back had obnoxious, smelly drunk people. Ick.

During this time I was talking to Julianna on the phone hoping we could meet up since she was in Vegas to celebrate her birthday. I was disappointed that our timing was off, but I did feel good knowing she was so close :).

Vegas Day 2: 6156 is the Mark of the Devil

I woke up very tired and feeling very badly on Thursday morning. I started my day by popping Ibuprofen, Sudafed and another dose of Tamiflu...on an empty stomach. Shouldn't have been too much of a surprise that when I smelled the food downstairs that I got sick. Back to bed for me while the others ventured out for half price tickets for that night (dang you, Wayne Brady, for cancelling on us!). In retrospect, I think I had the advantage sleeping while they did all that walking. Thanks, girls!

We met up for lunch at Le Buffet (roll eyes), which I thought was good but I think I was in the minority on that one. Then again, me and massive amounts of food are always good. Next up, The Price is Right Live, a non-televised version of the show with a different host and announcer. Very fun even though none of us got to come on down :(. We were all set to have our picture made with the beauties after the show (Gail, the blonde, is from the Memphis/Tunica area), but the random older lady who was going to take it was not exactly camera savvy. As she is splitting our picture into two shots (yeah, because we're going to piece them together later? come on lady), Erica goes, "Aw, geeeez." Might not sound funny in print, but trust me, it was hilarious.

A little gambling, a roller coaster ride for Holly and Erica, and more walking later, and we decided to go to In-N-Out Burger for an early dinner before our 7:30 show. Unfortunately, we couldn't find a walking route, so we hopped in a cab. THE CAB FROM HELL. Now, the night before on the way to Rosemary's, Erica had been up front with the young cab driver who had absolutely no desire to talk with her or expound on her questions. On the way back from Rosemary's, Michelle was able to have a nice conversation with that driver. So when I got in the front and this cabbie started chatting me up, I thought all was well. I COULD NOT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG. This &!@# started out by saying that us taking a cab to get a burger was "a dumbass" waste of his vehicle. Yep he did. But I thought he was just a gruff old man like so many I'd met, so I was just laughing him off. But when I was collecting quarters in lieu of no $1's to tip him (MORE THAN 20% I MIGHT ADD), he started mouthing off about not wanting to hear any change because we were not in Mississippi anymore. Oh yes he did, he insulted our intelligence and our state. So then Erica tipped him $0.30 in payment to his rudeness. Well dear heavens, he started mouthing off. I had heard enough from him so I just walked off. THAT MAN THEN PHYSICALLY BLOCKED HOLLY AND MICHELLE'S PATH AND LECTURED THEM. Just writing this has my blood pressure through the roof. I had every intention of calling the cab company and reporting him, but every time I thought about it my blood pressure spiked.

After recovering from this ordeal and enjoying the only cheap meal of our trip, we went to see Blue Man Group at the Venetian. Halfway through the show I turned to Erica and said, "I think this is what it's like to be on drugs."

Vegas Day 1: Le Annoying

Super early Wednesday morning we headed to the airport, where I was delighted to run into the Robbins. A few minutes later I was not so delighted when the button popped off my blue jeans in the bathroom. With my belts in my checked luggage and no safety pin to be found, I had to walk around half the day with my pants poking out. Beautiful.

On the plane, Erica had a bad bout of motion sickness, and my sinuses threatened to explode. Holly and Michelle kept up the momentum of being the normal people on the trip :)

Luckily our flights were like clockwork, and we arrived in Vegas on time. Courtney, Holly's sister, arrived pretty close on schedule also, and we hopped into the shuttle to head to the hotel. Total bummer, the advertisement on the shuttle completely blocked our view out the windows. Grumble.

We arrived at the Paris hotel and were met with a haze of cigarette smoke and Le Concierge, Le Toilettes, Le Journal, Le Buffet...LE GIVE ME A BREAK. We dumped our stuff and headed out to see the Bellagio fountain show across the street. "One" from A Chorus Line is still stuck in my head, but it is really cool. Next we hit up some stores before changing and grabbing a cab off-strip to Rosemary's Restaurant: http://www.rosemarysrestaurant.com/. Thank you, Michelle, you Frommers freak, for this amazingly delicious find. YUM!!

After a long day of traveling, we were all ready to hit our beds early. So when two of my coworkers called and woke me up at a ridiculously early time, I had to save face by saying I was sick. Which was true in that I had a head cold and had taken lots of Sudafed to fly and Tamiflu (and apparently that wine at dinner with those meds wasn't such a good idea). I would write about the sleep ping-pong match that occurred between Erica and me during the night, but that would result in a breech of contract.

Vegas: Prologue

I interrupt this adoption story to bring you the tales of Vegas. Have no fear, you can click on "adoption" at the bottom of any post and all the entries will be together for your reading pleasure.

A couple of years ago Holly, Michelle, Erica and I decided we wanted to take a trip to celebrate our 30th birthdays. We planned to do it in 2010 when 3 of us turn 30 (Michelle is a few days shy from being in 2010). But when we started researching, we found a deal to Vegas that expired this month. So there you go, Vegas in November to celebrate.

We were scheduled to fly out of Jackson on Wednesday, Nov. 11. Since it was an early flight, Erica and I planned to go down on Tuesday night. On Monday night, Elliott started running fever. Please note that Elliott had not been sick in a year and a half -- no joke. But let me have a trip planned that I could not get my money back on, and bam, sick. I took him to the doctor on Tuesday...FLU. OMG, I was so upset. What do I do? Do I stay and lose out on the money and on the celebratory trip? Do I go and feel like the worst mother ever? After MUCH crying and talking with lots of people, and with Doug assuring me I should go, I finally got in the van with Erica and headed to Jackson. Boy that was hard.

Insert private joke: Emily's Tamiflu

When we got to Jackson we headed to a costume jewelry store to get fancy for Vegas. With some baubles selected, we climbed back in the van...only to climb right back out. Flat tire. Many thanks to the kind gentleman who assisted us, though we all feel quite confident Michelle could have saved us pansies. Michelle came up with a plan for dropping the van at a tire store and leaving the key in the drop box. As Erica began to show the first signs of calming down, WHAM! New problem...iPhone locked in the van, the keys now held hostage in the tire store drop box. But our girl is industrious, and thanks to a good ole' pop-a-lock service, the phone was rescued!

To recap, we have one member of the crew with overwhelming mommy guilt for leaving her sick child, and one member who has had a flat tire, left her van to total strangers, and paid to have her phone rescued. Nothing Xanax-induced sleep can't correct!

Waiting to Wait

So now there is no other paperwork for me to do, there is only the waiting for the 171-H to come in the mail. I've finished my master's degree, so there is no homework to distract me. There is only my coins to roll and my stress to build ;). We were literally waiting to wait at this point since we still were not officially on the waiting list for a referral.

At the very end of October, it came! Oh a regular piece of paper has never looked so good! After getting it to the agency, we officially made it onto the waiting list at the beginning of November 2005. The next phase of waiting began. This time, instead of waiting on a piece of paper, we were waiting on the referral. And with the holidays approaching, my anxiety started climbing again.

CHARLESTON?!?

It's a little impossible for me to tell the story 100% in chronological order since it has been 4 years...OMG, it's been 4 years. Wow. I entertained for about 1.5 seconds the thought that a blog 4 years ago to chart the journey would have been fantastic. And then I quickly realized I probably would have gotten arrested because I can visualize me Photoshop'ing certain peoples heads onto Wanted posters. Shew, dodged that bullet.

At the end of August 2005, I was headed to an annual conference I helped to coordinate. This particular meeting used to rotate locations all around the South. And of all the meetings I had to attend, this one sucked the least. In 2005 it was located in Charleston, and as I had been to Charleston in 2002 with Holly (a story that begs to be told another day), I knew it was a cool city. So I was fairly excited (read as: not depressed and crying) that Sunday morning when I checked in at the GTR airport. And I am not even making up what comes next, I promise. I checked in, handed over my baggage and started walking toward the restroom. And stopped dead in the middle of the GTR airport with a look of complete shock on my face. And the following is a close representation of what occurred in my brain: CHARLESTON?!? I'M GOING TO CHARLESTON?!? CHARLESTON AS IN THE LOCATION OF THE NANCYS?!? OMG!!! I CAN GO SEE THE NANCYS!!! I don't know how in the world it had not occurred to me before then that I would be getting this chance. I guess I was a tiny bit stressed. But oh how excited I was! So on Monday or Tuesday of that week, I ducked out of the meeting at break and WALKED SEVERAL BLOCKS to the office. And there I met my Nancys!

I got our red bracelets from their office that day, and we wore those bracelets without taking them off until Friday, May 5, 2006.

Mrs. Batman, Postal Worker

After reading my previous entry, Sara called me this morning to remind me about, and I quote, "the excessive mailbox checking," that I forced her to do in the fall of 2005. After my OH YEAH! moment, now I can't stop being amused at both of us.

At this point we are waiting on the 171-H to come from USCIS so that we can officially be put on the waiting list. We had nothing left to do ourselves. And I am out of my mind waiting for that piece of paper. So, I imposed upon Sara, who was working in West Point at the time, to go by my house every day at lunch and look in the mailbox. I'm wondering how many weeks this went on? (And I'm chuckling.) My thought being I didn't have to torture myself all day if it wasn't in there, and if it was in there I could go home and get it! I grew tired of waiting very quickly, and I pulled out the big guns. The only way to check the status of this paperwork is to contact your Congressman's office. You can imagine how lengthy a phone call that is being transfered and put on hold and what have you. I finally got a very nice and competent lady on the phone, and here came that bitch slap I've been yammering about:

Ma'am, your (official) homestudy did not reach USCIS until [insert date here that I have blocked from my mind to protect my own sanity and those responsible].

I was in complete shock. Our waiting had only begun due to the delivery by our homestudy agency of the paperwork WELL PAST when I thought it had been sent. OH I can still feel the slap across my face. And it still hurts. BUT, I have to remember that God's plan is HIS plan. Not mine. And in retrospect, had we made it unto the list earlier, we would have been refered a child other than Elliott. Because my dear baby would not be born until Nov. 22. So wait we did.

And, Sara, thank you.

Dossier Queen

After officially contracting with our international agency, which has offices in NC & SC, and meeting by phone with the intake counselor, it was finally time to begin working with the Guatemala team: the Nancys. One, a native Spanish speaker, was the program director and communicated with the lawyers and facilitators in Guatemala. The other one was the case manager and dealt with us families and supervised our dossier preparation. And let me just tell you, they are both fantastic, but the latter Nancy was a gift sent to me directly from God. I can be a little high-strung (several of you just fell out of your chairs laughing at this understatement), and she could handle me effortlessly. It was like she had caller ID, could see it was me and would give herself a pep talk before pulling on the white gloves and effortlessly handling me. She had the amazing ability to talk me down without it ever feeling patronizing. Dang she is good. She gave me a valuable piece of advice:

Emily, there are lots of times when the paperwork will not be in your hands, and there will be nothing you can do. So when that paperwork is in your hands, do everything you can do. Be efficient; don't sabotage yourself.

Ok, that is of course slightly paraphrased, but the message is there. And you are probably saying what person in her right mind who wants a baby SO BADLY would sabotage her own paperwork? But I have seen it happen with my own eyes (not me). So honey, I took her advice 100% to heart. Not to mention that as I've previously told you I was all about checking off those steps. So when they gave me access to the online dossier planner, I was like an Olympic runner! I was out of the blocks in no time!

At this point in the story we are into July 2005. And you should know that with very few exceptions, my family has gone to Panama City Beach, FL, in July every year of my life. This year was one of those exceptions. My younger brother was starting his freshman year at USMA the following month, and he had already had to report to boot camp in NY the previous month. Due to several factors surrounding him leaving, we decided not to go on vacation that year. But I took the entire week off anyway and devoted the entire week to gathering documents as part of the dossier. There is only so much you can do on your lunch hour when you work in one town and live in another. When I finished with all of the parts of the dossier that I could control, I proudly sent it to my Nancy. And then she rewarded me with the following:

I think that is the fastest I've ever seen a dossier put together.

Music to my competitive and formerly Type A ears. Aaah, it still makes me puff out my chest and smile. The only remaining piece was the 171-H that had to come from USCIS...the aforementioned bitch slap will be coming up soon.

Pause

As you can see, I had to pause the adoption story when Elliott got the flu immediately followed by me leaving for Vegas. I will continue the adoption story and tell the Vegas story as soon as I get a grip on reality again. Which needs to be soon because I don't have time to have a breakdown right now. Seriously, I don't have any vacation time left...ba dum dum dum. Thank you, I'll be here all week, and I gladly accept tips.

ZigZag and Back Again

At the beginning of the process, there are actually a few varieties on how you can begin the process. In my research I've found that different agencies list the first few steps slightly different from each other. And each strategy will work, it just depends on which agency you are working with. For instance, we had already contracted with our homestudy agency by the time we contracted with our international agency. And for them, that was slightly out of order. No harm, no foul because we were still early enough along in the homestudy.

Ok, so the two agencies had to sign an interagency agreement. Then, while the homestudy was still in process, we had to apply with United States Citizenship and Immigration Services. Here is the tricky part. You have to send in the I-600A form early enough in the homestudy process that it can be processed simultaneously so that you do not waste time. But, if you get it there too early, you may still lose time because you cannot get your fingerprinting appointment until the homestudy is complete. These interwoven steps still stress me out. So being at my most motivated and efficient ever, I was checking off the steps. And when we got our letter from USCIS with our appointment to come get fingerprinted, I was elated. At that point, we thought the homestudy was ~90% complete. The report was written, but it had not been passed off to the state director to move along the path. I don't know, just go with it. So anyway, we were allowed to bring an unofficial copy with us that day to Memphis (I'm thinking this was mid June 2005). And poor Doug, here is a great example of me charging along completing the steps while he just did as I said. He just went with the momentum. So I guess all I ever said was, "We're going to get fingerprinted in Memphis." I guess I never went into complete detail about it being at USCIS. So when we pulled up and his comment was, "Whoa, there sure are a lot of foreign people here," I just about died. Now it's extremely funny.

When we left Memphis that day, I was on Cloud 9. I was feeling so good about how fast we were jumping through the hoops. The next step was to wait for the all powerful 171-H form back from USCIS. This is THE form that gets you onto the waiting list! And it takes a long time to get. So the next step during that time is to prepare the dossier, which is the packet that goes to the country. Here is where you need a tip from someone who has been there, done that. Request the list of needed documents for the dossier while you are doing your homestudy. There is no reason to have to request your birth certificate from the state office more than once. Sheesh, people.

Next up: Dossier Queen and one heck of a bitch slap.

The Homestudy

You know the drums you always hear on movies before someone is executed? Imagine that sound when you read, HOMESTUDY. It is a source of great anxiety for adoption newbies. And rightly so. Most homestudies involve four meetings with a social worker: meeting as a couple, meeting with just the dad, meeting with just the mom, and then, the dreaded home visit. Oh yeah, and TONS of paperwork to fill out between meetings, such as writing your own biography and filling out a financial worth statement. The home visit is by far the scariest part to everyone I've ever talked to. To have someone come into your home and say whether or not it's "good enough" and safe enough for a child is overwhelming. And here is an area where I have never been successful in letting go of some of my anger. I know why it is necessary, but it feels really unfair. But there is no need dwelling on it, so I'll keep moving.

It's amazing the silly things we all do to prepare our houses for any event. Think about the extra preparations you may take for a birthday party or to host a jewelry party. It's like that amount of work but on crack. For instance, I bought new throw pillows for my couches and had the nursery woman at the Co-op fix my planters for the front porch. Yeah, because pillows and flowers make all the difference in a house, ha! Ok, so general information aside, here are the specifics.

We started working with our state homestudy agency before we contracted with our international agency. I guess I should stop and explain that your homestudy has to be conducted by a licensed social worker in your state, but you can use an international agency located anywhere in the country. Our social worker was located in Starkville, though she was contracting for the office in Jackson. Anyway, she was the sweetest lady and really put us at ease. We were always happy with her during the process. However, the higher ups in Jackson kept me stressed. To me, and yes I was overly emotionally for sure, they were very slow and very inefficient overall. At one point we actually had to make a call, through a friend, to the chief lady at the agency to get things moving. I probably needed a t-shirt to wear at all times that said, "You get in my way, I'll steamroll right over you."

Hello? (tap, tap) Is This Thing On?

Anybody out there?

Cattle Collateral

The money! The money! Now might be a good time to report that I had been putting $125 of each paycheck (bi-monthly) directly into the savings account each month. Not sure how long I had been doing that. We also received several extremely generous gifts from family members over the coming months, each a few hundred dollars.

So even though I was getting pumped up to do fundraisers, I knew we had to be able to come up with the large payments when the agency required them. So my dad and I headed to the bank. My dad co-signed for us, and yep, you guessed it, his cows were our collateral. How hysterical is that? We were able to get a balloon note that we could withdraw money from in increments. We did not have to pay monthly payments on it in the beginning. After one year, we paid off the interest (with our tax refund) and were able to renew it for one more year. At the end of the second year we were once again able to pay off the interest with our tax refund, and then we set it up on payments. Like a car payment. Yes, this is our reality.

The first fundraiser we did was "Pennies and Prayers." We took clear jars, attached a scrap of baby fabric (bought in the discount bin), and handed them out to our families and friends. We asked for their pennies from their pocket change, but mostly for their prayers. Holy moly was this ever successful! I am still so humbled not only by how many people contributed (all pocket change, not just pennies), but by how excited and involved everyone got. I think they got excited about it because it gave them an active role in our amazing journey. You know the African proverb that says, "It takes a village to raise a child;" well, for us it also took a village to bring our child home. And I wouldn't have had it any other way.

One unexpected side benefit of these change jars was a much needed distraction for me: ROLLING COINS! I am not kidding, not even a little bit, when I tell you how much I loved rolling those coins. And no, it wasn't because I had become obsessed with money. It gave me something real and active to do. I rolled coins and rolled coins and rolled coins; I think it might have actually saved me from a complete breakdown! HA. Occasionally some innocent bystander would suggest that I take the loose change to the bank to roll. Poor fool.

The next fundraiser was a lot more work, but returned a larger profit faster. I kept reading about doing yard sales for fundraisers. And I kept scoffing to myself that a small yard sale wouldn't be very profitable. And then one day it hit me. I had the answer! A yard sale on steroids. See, not long before that, my dad and his youngest brother had inherited my great-grandmother's apartment house (side note: Doug and I lived there from Jan 2001 - March 2002). And my dear Nana, she was a HOARDER. Not that I blame her having lived through the Depression as a single mother. So anyway, there was tons of crap being stored in her old beauty shop in the apartment house. And my family was very much dreading dealing with all that stuff. So I proposed to invest sweat equity to organize it into a yard sale in exchange for the profits. I just wish we had taken a before picture. The piles were 5 feet tall in the entire space except for a narrow and treacherous path. On top of all that stuff, we started taking donations for the yard sale. My mother was not so enthusiastic about the donations as we already had so much crap to deal with. But I was so excited and so thankful! I couldn't say no once the momentum got going. We had FIVE yard sales (I think), and we lost track of how much we made. The bad news? We still have crap left.

So now we had a loan, the blessings from our family and friends were rolling in, and I was rolling coins to keep my sanity. Go do some stretches and get ready to jump through some hoops!

Wait a Minute, You Mean We Need Real Money?!?

You may have noticed that I write "I" a lot in this story. Let me take a minute to explain a little something that I think a lot of women can relate to, whether you are an adoptive mom, a biological mom, or a future mom. Most of the guys I know don't have a plan for kiddos; well, not a concrete, detail-oriented plan. They don't take a whole lot of time to think about timelines and all the implications of timing and planning. Again, true for pregnancy, true for adoption planning. With most of the couples I know, the ladies do the planning, present the plan to their guys, and then the guys get on board. So, just to clear that up.

Anyhoo, we had passed go, but we did not get to collect $200. And boy were we going to need it. Backtracking for just a moment, we received an amazing gift in December 2004. Two dear friends showed up one night before Christmas with a card and $500 that was from a collection of friends. HUMBLED does not even begin to describe what we felt. We were amazed by the power of friendship and God in our life. And I believe a not so subtle push to conquer what often felt like an unconquerable journey. We could do this because we had amazing people pushing us forward. And most importantly, it was God's plan.

For the longest time I had a hand-written note on our fridge with the following Scripture:

"And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." --Phil 4:19

So for a long time, as stupid as it sounds, I could focus on the journey and not on the money it was going to take to make the adoption possible. It was kind of like running full force, straight ahead while plugging my ears and going, "NAH, NAH I CAN'T HEAR YOU! WE CAN DO THIS!" and then one day I ran smack into a tree. I'm pretty sure it was the day we received the packet from our international agency with actual monetary amounts and deadlines. Holy crap, after all that research, the reality of coming up with $30,000 was HEAVY. But somehow, I managed to keep putting one foot in front of the other down the path. The downside was that I became obsessed with the thought of the money. You remember that scene near the end of Vegas Vacation where Sid Caesar's character wins and he starts going, "The money! The money! The money is mine!" Ok, well that was me except it was more like, "The money! The money! I have to find the money! The money is not mine!" Cue more research. So after first scoffing at the ideas that seemed so unsophisticated and low revenue, I finally said let's give it a go. And when I put my mind to fundraising, I really put my mind to it. Stay tuned.

We Passed Go

I have this image of Doug and I in tiny, plastic form on a gameboard as I try to take you chronologically through this amazing journey. How cute would that be? HA!

So where was I? Right, May 2005 and first piece of paperwork. That paperwork involved contracting with a state agency to conduct our homestudy. We still had not chosen our international agency, even though we now knew we wanted to adopt from Guatemala. So, more research! I was really digging a KY agency, but they only worked with Guatemala and China, and a co-worker who was also adopting at that time advised us to choose an agency that worked with more than one country. Wise advice because if a country ever closes, you can switch within the same agency to another country program. So since we were not eligible for China, I sadly had to give up on the idea of the KY agency. I had participated in at least one conference call with another agency, and I just couldn't find an agency that felt like the right fit. One Monday at Wrestling Night (that is a whole other story), Brock mentioned that Steven Curtis Chapman had some kind of adoption organization. So I checked into it. Founded by the Chapmans, Shaohannah's Hope, http://www.showhope.org/, is a movement to care for orphans. The organization gives grants to needy adoptive couples and has a large movement to start adoption ministries in churches. I can in no way explain it to the degree it deserves, so check it out. They do amazing work. But anyway, they have a list of agencies they recommend. And after researching those, that is how I finally found our agency!

Next up: The hoops begin, and I become obsessed with money.

In the Beginning

It makes sense to start our adoption story at the beginning, but what is the beginning? Is the beginning when I poured over my mom's Ladies Home Journal when I was a little kid, enthralled with an article about a little girl adopted from China? Or is our beginning when on our second date Doug shared with me that he is adopted? I don't subscribed to the idea that our beginning involves a doctor's office. Only God knows the beginning to our story. So I shall attempt to begin at the starting line of action.

Between 2002 and 2005, I did tons of research about adoption, both domestic and international. I requested enough information packets from agencies to wallpaper a 2000 sq-ft house. And then I would vomit info onto Doug in warp speed speech. And then I'd repeat the process again. :) Heaven forbid we went near the mall because then I would march into the bookstore and spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to find any and all adoption books available. Unfortunately, finding an adoption book amongst the tons of maternity books is a bit like finding a needle in a haystack and just as frustrating. Then poor Doug would have to hear that rant all the way back home. You can see the buds of advocacy blooming here.

In the fall of 2004, I believe it was October, Doug and I decided to officially pursue an adoption plan. The timing was influenced by the fact that I was in my second to last semester of grad school. With the end in sight, it felt like it might finally be time to "stop living in pause" (Copyright me). We met with a lawyer, who was a family friend, and discussed a private, non-agency domestic adoption. The name of the game in that area is networking. And I thought, dude, we know lots of people. No worries. Except that by March 2005 I had had enough of waiting with no steps, no hoops to jump through. And having turned 25 in January 2005, I was now old enough to adopt internationally (25 was the minimum age at the time for all countries except China); I turned all my attention to international at this time. China would have been our first choice, but the age limit made it impossible. Our next thought was South Korea, but there is a law (?) that couples in MS cannot adopt a healthy Korean infant (special needs only). As first time parents, we could not handle that route. It didn't take much longer before I zeroed in on Guatemala, and Doug was on board once I told him (a) it was a 4-hour flight, (b) it was only one trip, and (c) it was only a 5-day trip. Sounds silly, but the traveling part of international adoption was a great source of fear for Doug. And remains to this day.

In May 2005, I graduated with my master's degree, but more importantly, we filled out our first official piece of international adoption paperwork. And we were off!

November is National Adoption Awareness Month!

I'm going to dedicate this month to telling our adoption story. Know someone who is considering adoption? Please share this site with them. Better yet, send them my contact info. I love to advocate via mentoring. It is amazingly rewarding.