Tuesday, August 19, 2014

the obligatory adoption update

And no, this quote, as it applies here, isn't about a breakup.
 
Here it is: The obligatory adoption update. 

I say it's obligatory because there's nothing new to report. We are still "in court," waiting on judges to rule that Sweet C is our daughter. It's not fun, this waiting. But we are making the most of it and continuing to enjoy our silly boys as we pray fervently for her health, safety, and swift official addition to our family and appearance in our home.

DRC adoptions have slowed down TREMENDOUSLY since we began this journey in Spring 2013. When we entered the DRC adoption world, parents could expect to complete the entire process with a child in their arms in about a year. Under those circumstances, our adoption would have been complete. 

That's not to say that there weren't problems. One of the coordinators at our agency told us that any completed adoption from DRC is a miracle. Malaria is a real threat to children's health, as is dysentery (as we learned in a way that hit too close to home), malnutrition, measles, violence...you name it. 

But that's also why we chose to adopt from DRC, and we know adoptions can be very difficult, so we didn't enter this blindly.

However, that doesn't change the fact that we'd like to have this sweet girl in our arms so we can love and protect her daily. Brody and Brecken are ready to be her big brothers, and I am ready for another girl in this house to balance things out a bit! (Seriously, have I mentioned the vast amount of tooting in faces, missing the toilet, peeing in the shower and general grossness that happens in this house daily? We need Little Miss here to put these boys in place.) 

It's not that I don't enjoy talking about this adoption. I really do. It's just that there's not much to report for our specific case (or there is a ton to report in the DRC adoption world, depending on how you look at it, so "where should I start?"). I am usually fine when talking about C and the adoption process. I often talk about it sensibly and without emotion. But sometimes I catch even myself off-guard when I begin speaking and my speech ends in ellipses and little sobs of heartache. I don't know why the emotion bubbles up sometimes and other times I can talk about her as if she's just around the corner, but it happens nonetheless (and it's rather embarrassing when the emotion comes, although I know it shouldn't be).

But I know where it comes from. My little heart aches sometimes...daily, really. And sometimes--like last week--a picture of her comes my way and it literally knocks the wind out of me. My heart skips several beats and I have to consciously force myself to breathe because she is so fearfully and wonderfully made, so beautiful and unassuming, sitting there with the arm of a fatherly figure wrapped around her in protection and love. She's almost too perfect to look at when I know it will be a while before I can hold her.

I'm so thankful she's in a home with a sweet foster mom and so many others--including a fatherly figure--to take care of her. But I still wish she was with us and that was Brad's arm wrapped around her tightly with two little knuckle-headed boys tickling her toes or giving her sweet (although sometimes intrusive) little kisses. 

So there it is: We are still waiting. We are still praying. We are still hoping. We are still believing.