dos·si·er

 [dos-ee-YAY!]

This is the post I've been waiting one year, two months, and a few days to write.  Our USCIS approval arrived Wednesday, and this morning we sent off our dossier--and a big check--to our agency.  

Oh M GEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This means that the wait to wait is almost over, and we are *almost* officially WAITING.  Waiting for the phone call and e-mail with our referral information, waiting to see our children's faces, waiting to visit the country we've fallen in love with, waiting to begin life as a family of four.  

So, here's how it works.  West Sands will receive our dossier on Tuesday (I'm watching you, FedEx), and they will sort through all of the documents and make sure everything looks good.  Then, they will send it to a government office in D.C. to be authenticated (which basically means approved and stamped) and translated into Amharic, then it will be sent back to West Sands.  West Sands then sends it to Ethiopia... when our dossier is in the hands of the Ethiopian government, we will officially be on the list, officially WAITING.  

We would gratefully appreciate your prayers that our little dossier stays safe and sound during its world tour and that it (we) would find favor with each government official who touches it.

FedEx excitement

our entire life is in this binder.  

Oh M GEEEEEE!!!!

celebratory lunch at queen of sheba

Waiting to Wait

I have been struggling a lot this week with self pity.  We still haven't received our USCIS approval, and we had our fingerprints taken one month ago today.  I never thought that we would start 2013 NOT being on the waiting list.  Lots of other West Sands families have been getting really quick responses from USCIS--one couple got their approval FOUR DAYS after their fingerprints--and they're all passing us by.  Jon has been calling USCIS once a week for a month to ask what our status is, and each time he gets the same answer: our file is still waiting to be assigned to a case worker, waiting to be handled.  Life is  beginning to feel like one of those dreams when you're running as fast as you can and not moving an inch, or moving excruciatingly slowly. I get multiple "how is the adoption going?!" questions each week, and I grit my teeth and always answer the same: "fine, thanks, we're just waiting on our approval! we're really excited!"

I have had many angry/weepy moments when I've wondered why this process seems to be harder for us than for other people (which is ridiculous, because some families have to fight and petition and hire attorneys to get their children home).  I am also dealing with the bitter disappointment and heartache of a difficult situation with a family member, which has not turned out the way I've hoped and prayed (and I mean the lying face down on the floor in a puddle of snot and tears kind of praying).  I have definitely had a few "where the heck ARE you, God???  I'm super pissed!" conversations with Jesus. 

Admittedly, I struggle a lot with fear, anxiety, and a glass-half-empty outlook on life.  In my defence, I've lived through some pretty crappy stuff, including the tragic, sudden, and shocking death of my very best friend in the world 8 years ago.  A lot of the things I've feared most (the death of loved ones, job loss, multiple family members facing life-threatening illnesses) have come roaring to life and punched me in the face. So, of course, I immediately jump to worse-case-scenario mode with regard to this adoption. (Russia's recent announcement that it's about to ban all adoption of Russian children by American families is not helpful in this regard.)

I think I need to have some serious time with Jesus, and maybe some counseling, to shake me out of this fear/anxiety mode.  It's blinding me to the awesome things happening in my life.  I've mentioned before on this blog that we want/need to pay off our debt before the babies come home, and I've spent   years--even before adoption was on the radar--praying that God would miraculously provide the means for us to pay off our debt.  About a month ago, Jon got a huge bonus at work, enough for us to pay off one of our highest-balance credit cards. He sent me a text saying that the balance on this card had been paid in full and, when I was driving home that day, it hit me--God had miraculously provided to help us pay off our debt.  With this one card's balance gone, we can begin applying its huge monthly payment to our other cards and will hopefully be on our way to being debt free.  Praise His name.

I apologize for the lengthiness and heaviness of this post.  If you've kept reading this far, God bless you.  I promise the next post will be light and fluffy, with lots of pictures.



The Home Study

and an update

We are so, so close to being on the waiting list, and I can't wait....!  We've had our fingerpints taken at USCIS and are just waiting on our approval letter.  Once that comes in we can send our dossier to West Sands and get on "the list."  

I was sad that there was no ink on my finger, since everything is electronic now.
(side note: before I left work for our finger print appointment, I had somehow managed to make a can of Coke explode all over myself--and the kitchen at work.  I frantically washed my bangs in a sink in the bathroom and towel dried them in the car, but the back of my head was still a sticky mess.)

Our home study visit was August 18, and it wasn't nearly as bad as I feared/expected it would be.  Our social worker briefly toured the house, and then the rest of the visit was her interviewing Jon and me, both together and separately. I love the scene in What to Expect When You're Expecting when Jennifer Lopez's character is completely freaking out and hiding her wedding photos before the social worker arrives--I can completely relate to that "OMG if this person doesn't like us we can't ever adopt!!" panic. I was a nervous wreck for days leading up to the home visit, and I even had a last minute meltdown just before she arrived that involved my frantically bleaching and scrubbing the kitchen sink while sobbing (I can have a meltdown like a champ). As soon as she left Jon helpfully pointed out that I had a GIANT rip in the back of my jeans. I then got into bed and watched movies the rest of the day to recover.  

At least our house was super clean.

 

I also laughed during the home study scene in What to Expect When You're Expecting when Jennifer Lopez's character serves cookies she's baked and the social worker refuses to eat them. I found a blueberry bread recipe on Pinterest and got up extra early to ensure I had enough time to make it, but our social worker refused to have a piece. She also declined our offers of tea/coffee/water; some of our adoption friends have told us it's typical for social workers not to eat or drink anything at clients' homes.  

I, however, stress-ate throughout the entire visit.

 

My beautiful blueberry bread (which was half gone by the time she left)



International Adoption Lingo/The Process

Dossier (pronounced “doss-e-A”): a collection of documents containing very detailed information about the adoptive parents. Compiling a dossier involves gathering documents (everything from medical clearance from our doctors to letters from our local police station and certified copies of our birth and marriage certificates, etc.), having these documents notarized, and then authenticated, which means adding various seals from our county, our state, and the U.S. government.  Once we have all of the documents needed for our dossier we will send it to West Sands (our agency), and they will have it authenticated and sent to the Ethiopian government.  When our dossier is in the hands of the Ethiopian government we will officially be on the waiting list.

Home Study:  our home study is part of our dossier, and it's basically a social worker's assesment of our home and, in her opinion, our parenting abilities.  Also included in the home study is an autobiography for both Jon and myself (which was both fun and tough to write), letters of recommendation from three people, and several other documents (including our pets' vet records!).

Referral: once our dossier is in Ethiopia and we are on the waiting list to receive our referral.  Our adoption agency knows our requests/preferences--we are requesting siblings under the age of two--and once we are at the top of the waiting list and the kids who are meant to be ours become available we will receive a phone call and then be sent an e-mail with the children's pictures, history, and medical info. 

Once we have formally accepted our referral we will travel to Ethiopia for court (usually about 6-8 weeks later), where we will officially be declared the children's parents.  We then travel back home--without the kids--and wait to be cleared by the US embassy in Ethiopia.  When we have received the green light from the embassy we will travel back to Ethiopia for our embassy appointment, and then we get to bring our babies home!

The Paper Chase

Several months ago, when Jon and I were trying to raise the money needed to begin the adoption process, I couldn't WAIT to start the paper chase (see some of my earlier posts), because it would mean we were on our way. Well, I am happy to report that we are deep into the paper chase, and we hope to have everything submitted and ready to go (which = finally being on the waiting list) by the end of the year.

(Please, please, please baby Jesus.)

For those of you whose lives are not consumed by international adoption, the "paper chase" is the (hopefully) few months when adoptive parents are up to their eyeballs in paper work and are spending every free moment possible working on obtaining needed documents. For example, last week we worked on getting life and health insurance confirmation letters and letters of clearance from our local police department. Next week we have our (thorough) physicals, and we will return to the doctor a week after our appointment to get our notarized letters stating that, to the doctor's knowledge, neither of us is facing imminent death. We are also working on getting letters of reference from a few of our friends and letters from our bank and our employers. In case you were wondering, international adoption does indeed feel like a part-time job sometimes.

Our adoption notebook, full of precious documents obtained with blood, sweat, and a few tears, and kept on a high shelf far away from spilled drinks and destructive shihpoos.

Another key part of the paper chase is the home study. Our home visit is in a few weeks and, I have to admit, it's the part of the process that I'm the most nervous about. The thought of having someone in your home for several hours to analyze you and decide whether or not you and your spouse are fit to be parents is a little daunting. We also have had to obtain several documents for the home study, and we each have to write an "autobiography", guided by their very to-the-point questions (describe your most unpleasant childhood memory. how does your family really feel about the adoption?).

Each step we take brings us one step closer to our babies. And that makes all the work more than worth it.

it takes a village

I saw the phrase "it takes a village" on an adoption fundraiser shirt recently, and I can't think of more appropriate words to apply to international adoption (or any adoption, really).  We absolutely could not follow through with this calling to adopt without the spiritual, emotional, and financial support of our church community.  It is too hard to do alone.  And, it will definitely be too hard to do alone once the babies are home.  We will need the support of our friends and church family, holding us up when we are weary and feeling broken, even more then as we--and the children--work through the bittersweet trauma and transition that inevitably comes with adoption. I'm so very grateful that God has us planted in this community for such a time as this.  

A couple of months ago some sweet friends of ours donated $1,000 on the blog. Amazing. We had our eat-in fundraiser at our friends'/lifegroup leaders' house on a recent Saturday night, and between donations and our silent auction we made $1,100.  Incredible.  We are blessed. And we are well on our way to having the money and paperwork we need to get our dossier sent to Ethiopia, which brings us one step closer to our babies.  

Pictures from the eat-in:

chatting with Leeann

Jordan, our incredibly supportive pastor/friend

Rachel--the friend who made adoption real to me

Darrah and Erin

Lindsey and Stacy

Silent Auction 

Thank you, friends, for your support--we couldn't do this without you!

First Step

Jon and I have taken the first, official, on-paper step in our adoption process.  We've been accepted into the Ethiopia program of our first-choice agency--West Sands Adoptions!  Their slogan is "a sacred mission" which I absolutely love, because that's exactly how Jon and I see our calling to adopt.  

Our application being notarized

The next step is getting our home study done and putting our dossier together (which involves tons of paperwork, physicals, background checks, trips to government offices to be finger printed, etc.).  Once all of THAT craziness is finished, our dossier can be approved and sent to the Ethiopian government, and then we'll be on the waiting list.  Lots of adoptive parents talk about how agonizingly difficult the waiting phase of adoption is, but, to be perfectly honest, I would give almost anything to be on the waiting list right now.  The thought of being finished with the stressful "paper chase" and overwhelming fundraising phase of adoption and just waiting to receive that phone call announcing that we've been matched with siblings sounds like bliss.  I know I might feel differently in six months or a year, but that's how I feel right now.  :)

Now that we've officially begun the adoption process we can throw ourselves whole-heartedly into fundraising--I apologize in advance to all of our local friends who will probably be sick of our special events, bake sales, and pleas for garage sale items in the coming months.


 A SACRED MISSION