T-minus 2 weeks

So, a different style of blogging today to fit our current lifestyle:  lists!

Wonderful mother-in-law being dropped off by even more wonderful sister-in-law on St. Patrick's Day; this means that the home-schooled children stay in school while mom is away.  And that the husband can go to work.  And that life stays somewhat normal.  So grateful for my family-by-grace-that-I-married-into.

Airfare purchased; agenda in-China being finalized.  I have a generous and gracious Mama and Daddy who 1) travel with me, Mama; and 2) give the gift of travel, Daddy.  Grateful for my parents-who-love-God-and-share-His-goodness-with me.

Packing started; well, if a big huge pile in the middle of the nursery counts and yes it's a run on sentence because that's exactly how packing feels to me.  

Village enlisted; soccer carpools offered (and accepted, thank you Karlyn and Jean-Anne).  And a "just  tell me what you need me to do" Dana coming to our house on Monday.   Looking for a ride to the airport on 3/22, pick me up at 9:30?  I wish I were kidding, but I'm not.  

Gifts received; I am so not good at receiving.  Why do I feel guilty when people are really, really nice?  I am learning how to say thank you and just trust that you the giver know how much I mean it.  

Easter dresses for the big girls purchased.  I'm making surprise bags for them for each day that I will be gone.  For me or for them?  Both really!!

I-pad 3 for the trip???  Yeah, that's what he said.  Not happening.  Darn!

In the midst of my frantic, frenzied mind, I breathe and remember that it's not about the stuff or the lists or the to-do's.  It's about the baby.  

It's 11:49am in China right now.  I bet you are getting ready to have lunch, Geng Hui to be named Levi.  Eat up, son!  You will need your strength!  Mimi and I have big plans for you...I've got a backpack with your name all over it.  

Paper Chasing

Paper-pregnant works for me.  I think I just might be in paper-labor right now!

The family room floor is my office, littered/organized with stacks of paper that must be wrangled with to bring home our son. 

I am notarized (thank goodness beloved’s administrative assistant is one); certified—no wise cracks here (by the county clerk to prove notary is who she says she is); and authenticated X 2 (Secretary of State and Department of State).  But wait, there’s more!  My beloved is walking the document into the Chinese Embassy for the greatest and final step…a piece of paper that is approved by the government that is caring for our precious boy. 

We dropped our regular home-school rhythm yesterday and embraced an impromptu field trip to Annapolis.  We stood in the very spot where George Washington addressed the 2^nd Continental Congress!  American History came alive!

I woke up with my beloved husband this morning to send him off to D.C. with the precious documents, packed him coffee and energy bars and kissed him out the door. 

I remembered that we are blessed to live in a part of the country where it is feasible to do all this certifying and authenticating and DC driving ourselves, unlike most other adoptive families.

So today, in the midst of paper-chasing hell (it’s my labor!), I am choosing to focus on the prize, the little life that exists in Zhoukou Welfare Institute today.  I will fold the mountain of laundry that I swear had babies of its own overnight.  I will savor the morning of learning at home with two lovely young ladies.  We will pray for Daniel Levi Melton.  And I’ll probably get started on that I-864 federal form that will be needed for the trip to China; I think our tax records for 2010 and 2011 are just over there in that pile…

This is how we roll in the land of paper-pregancies.  

Fully Alive

I have been pregnant for four years.
I have been PREGNANT for FOUR YEARS.
I have been pregnant for four years.

(We are learning about good openers in our homeschool writing class.  That one’s called a shocker.)

Yes, you read it right, a four-year gestational period, similar to some kind of steroid-pumped elephant. 

We, and by we I mean I, began adopting again from China about four years ago.  So in adoption circles, once your paperwork has been turned in to the powers that be in China, a.k.a. the CCAA, you are paper pregnant. 

My beloved wasn’t, apparently, as enthralled with the idea of a third adoption as I.  He agreed, likely to keep me from assaulting him daily with my vision for abundant family life.  Did I mention he’s a pastor?  Or that I’m a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom who really likes fashion?  Unfortunately, I learned that there is NOT a tree in the backyard that grows money.  Bummer.

And then the process stalled.  Adoptions literally began to trickle out of China.  Wait times went from about one year to over 4 years.  And, my beloved rethought the idea.  Well, I rethought it too. 

So now we’re early 40’s instead of late 30’s.  We’ve got a teen (when did that happen?) and a self-proclaimed ten-ager in the house.  And I did something very dangerous and wonderful.  I perused our adoption agency’s website and stumbled across a “Waiting Child” section. 

Did you know there are literally hundreds of children with minor, correctable special needs that are paper-ready to be adopted?  No, me neither.  Did you know many are boys?  Did you know they are often abandoned in the first days of their precious lives? 

So I prayed.  I tried to shut up.  I entreated.  And the beloved said “Maybe.”  Really?  Maybe???

Wantonly, I asserted my womanly wiles…quite well, actually, and he agreed to fill out a medical needs checklist (step 1).  Four days later, we had a file to consider.  It didn’t feel quite right.  One month later, file two to consider.  It feels really right.

He’s beautiful, with soulful eyes and expressively-arched eyebrows.  And he’s a he, in this hormone-laden house that oozes femininity.  He’s perfect and needs care to repair cleft lip and palate.  He is wooing me.  It’s the eyes, I tell you.

“How are you doing with this?” I ask my beloved.  We, and by we I mean he, are taking some days to pray and wait and be quiet and sure.  “Well,” he responds, “I can see it.  Feels good.  And then, I kind of feel like, (arms lifted, head shaking, shrill tone) AGGGHH.  AGGGHH.  AGGGHH."

So really, isn’t that what parenting or life or anything worth having is?  It feels good, and then AGGGHH.  It’s the sweet, sloppy puppy kisses (feels good)/I just stepped in dog &&$$ in our front yard (AGGGHH).  It’s a family fun night watching Kung Fu Panda 2—good flick by the way (feels good)/three nights in a row of the ten-ager howling at 3a.m. because she doesn’t feel safe (AGGGHH).  And don’t even get me started on the “I don’t feel safe” line of attack for sleeping in the parents’ room. 

Perhaps the prayer and quiet and the AGGGHH is where the unfettered abandonment of a life well lived is birthed.  Cultivate stillness.  Practice prayer.  Be quiet.  And then buckle your seatbelt!  Here it comes...life in all of its wild, unpredictable glory.

Here’s to praying and waiting and being quiet and sure.  And AGGGHHdoption.

“The glory of God is man/woman fully alive.”  Irenaeus