How many of you like lists? Some of you? Well, I must admit that I do. They are practical, organized, time-saving. Checking things off gives me a sense of accomplishment. I will even confess to occasionally adding something to my list just to check it off...pathetic, I know :-) However, I have not always been able to say such a thing. In fact, when I was a child the word "List" made me quiver. It went against my freedom-loving spirit making me feel bound, constricted. Chained to the words, "To Do."
Now maybe its to the credit of my amazing Marmie, who makes lists look like an art form, or maybe its my growing up to be an ICU nurse. Where, if you don't have an ever changing list you cant survive let alone save the lives of those in your care. I'd like to say it was maturity that made me like them, but I think it was the gradual realization that while I may never love them they are an effective tool to use.
Well, now that that is out of the way, Adoption is a giant list of "To Do's." In the beginning its a lined piece of notebook paper with agency names jotted down as you discover them online. Later it the list of references you have called and phone numbers left to try. Over time, it morphs into what will finally become the list of dossier documents that stand, neatly stacked, in between you and your child. While some of you have been/might be freaked out by this list, I celebrated the day it arrived. It was something tangible that I could do. The concept to finding a baby on the other side of the world and one day holding her in my arms seemed so abstract, so distant. Paper on the other hand is something I am familiar with. Paper is an old friend of mine. Having earned two college degrees and toying with the idea of getting my masters one day, paper and I have spent alot of quality time together.
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| Portions of my Dossier |
Each item, however entailed, when completed made my heart fill with joy. "One paper closer" has been my mantra from the beginning. It made even the smallest item on my list seem like the highest accomplishment. So, it has been with a sense of deep satisfaction that I have spent the past few months. My dossier sitting safety in the hands of my adoption agency. Apostilled, notarized, complete. It was the second full dossier I have completed as Kazakhstan closed and I had to redo my dosser with Russia (See"Playing Catch Up- Part Two". With finances being the remaining hurdle I would comfort myself on 15 hour work days that at least my dosser is done for now! I knew that as time passed their would be a gradually growing stack of documents needed to be renewed. Each item in a dossier has an expiration date. Some last three months, some six, other 12.
So....Two nights ago when I got home after a 14 hour day as a charge nurse in the ICU, and opened up an email with the following, I kinda went numb. It said that the majority of my dossier documents were expired and asked, kindly, if I wanted them disposed of or returned to me. Disposed of? Huh? I might bronze that stack of papers? What do you mean disposed of? That would be like casually discarding a nugget of gold.
Further research revealed that all but my Immigration Forms and my Home Study are no longer useable. OK. Rational people would now raise the question "Did you not know they would expire? What did you think would happen? Of course you would need to renew them. Why are you so devastated when you knew it was a matter of time?" Maybe it was the fact that I had been concentrating so hard on the fund raising. Maybe it was honest avoidance due to fatigue bordering on exhaustion. Maybe I had pushed it in the back of my mind because the thought of re-doing them for the fifth or sixth time was too much for me. Whatever it was, I can honestly admit I was shell-shocked.
Once again I took out my "List" and gazed on all the neatly checked off boxes. Worthless. Honesty being the only way to really prove valuable, I admit all of this to you. You may think that I am silly but my soul took it like a blow the the stomach. I felt like I am back at square one. No paperwork, not enough money. What has all of this been for?
I tell you all of this only with the intent to say that the road to adoption is indeed crooked....You never know which way it will turn tomorrow. I am not complaining. After many conversations with my agency, the documents will arrive safely back in my hands to possibly use as future reference. I stand back on square one....but at least I am standing. I choose to believe that this is a fresh start. A new beginning. There MUST be a reason why these events have occurred. Again, I am forced to ask myself, "Do you trust in God's leading? Really? Are you just saying you trust or do you feel it in your soul?"
So. This is where I stand tonight. At a blind corner. My faith is once again tested and I am choosing to believe. I am choosing to stand and walk on. I will redo each and ever one of those expired papers. Granted, I will wait for a little while but I will redo them. The dream of adoption is not a fantasy. It is a dream with aches and growing pains and beautiful flowers of possibility. The road lies ahead and only God knows which way it will turn. All I know it that at the end of this crooked road is my daughter....and even climbing Mt. Everest would seem insignificant to the moment I look into her eyes for the first time...
