Hello Kitty & Strawberry Shortcake

In my heart, in my mind, in the deepest part of my soul, I’m ready to move on. I have pushed the sad days behind me, let the anger wash away, and set the questioning to the back burner because until the day I die, I’ll always wonder why our first adoption attempt had to come to an ugly end. I’ve been spending hours on the computer, leaving my 3 year old to play or watch way more NickJr than I’d normally allow, but I’ve done my research. I’ve toggled back and forth between agency websites and .pdf files and Excel spreadsheets. I’ve narrowed it down to two countries, both with special needs adoptions, both from Asia, both with similar financial frameworks.

It’s a process that changes by the minute, by the hour, by the day. I woke up yesterday morning in my typical I-hate-mornings fashion. I fought to get my oldest out of bed and into the shower at 6:45. I just kept poking him in his top bunk, squeezing his arms and legs, ignoring his moaning and complaining until he slowly slid down the ladder with a thud to the beige carpet. I threw on yoga pants and a t-shirt, brushed my teeth, washed my face and ran a brush through my hair before going downstairs and getting yogurt and fruit on the table for breakfast. Then it was off to the bus stop and back home to clean up and start the day.

But I was angry yesterday. I never got a response from an agency with a waiting child whom I was very interested in. I questioned the agency twice and no reply. Then I got the one I didn’t want to hear. “We’ve found a family for her.” Great for the darling little girl with chubby, kissable cheeks, but it’s another loss for me. I took a shower in tears. I actually told God to take away my heart for orphans because I can’t deal with the pain anymore. How’s that for asking for something clearly against what it says in the Bible! I’d be a hypocrite for naming my blog Psalms 82:3. Those were about the only words I could utter to Him though. They were real and I meant it. Take it away!

We recently purchased a new kitchen table big enough to accommodate a new addition to the family. Yes, we bought the table the day before the Nepal shut down, wouldn’t you know. But I didn’t care for the chairs that accompanied my new Ikea table, and I purchased the table alone. So, yesterday afternoon I had planned to drive all around Lincoln to find at least 4 chairs that would match my espresso, almost black contemporary table. It was an ugly drive with angry adoption thoughts at every red light. Why are You doing this to us, God? It didn’t help that none of the stores I visited had chairs that would suit us. It was a bust at every store. My mood kept going down the drain.

My youngest is a great shopper and never made a fuss. I even promised him a stop at Toys R Us to browse and play if he was good at the furniture stores. Unfortunately, we had to buy a birthday present for our neighbor girl, so a trip down the pink, girly aisles was in order. I didn’t want to do it. I saw all the Hello Kitty, Strawberry Shortcake and Littlest Pet Shop toys that I had once intended to buy for my Nepali daughter. I found myself in the aisles of the toy store literally throwing my hands up in the air in utter defeat and letting them fall back to my sides with a heavy slap on my legs. I’m sure I walked out of the store like a disciplined puppy with my head down and tail between my legs. This is torture! Take it away!

We came home, ate lunch and cleaned up just a touch before friends would be coming over at 3:30. I had a few moments to check my email before heading to the bus stop in the afternoon. There was 1 email from an agency that has been known for excellent customer service, so I knew I could ask questions about their waiting child program and investigate my options.

Oh, how 1 little email can change your mood, your day, your outlook! The email was sweetly written by an adoption caseworker who understood the loss of our Nepal adoption. This agency is currently struggling to bring Nepali children home who had already been matched to their families before the shut down announcement. The caseworker explained what we’d have to do in order to switch countries, what kind of children are available, what country has the best program for us and he even included photos of 6 beauties who were looking for someone to call mommy and daddy, if we were paper ready, which we are not. He was confident there is a little girl out there for us and he never once pushed me to go with his agency and leave mine.

Those 6 faces made me cry tears of complete joy. I smiled through the slow stream running down my face, knowing there are children out there who are still in need. I marveled at how beautiful these babies were and their unrepaired cleft palates, club feet and ear deformities were a blur to me. I must have looked at their photos a dozen times before Jay came home from work.

Bring on the pink aisles at Toys R Us, the Hello Kitty, the Strawberry Shortcake Dolls! There's a little girl out there who needs me, needs Jay, needs 2 big brothers, 2 fluffy white American Eskimo dogs and goofy guinea pig to boot.

Yes, I’m ready to move on.