She could barely contain her excitement in the morning.
"Mommy can we go to school now?"
"No sweetie. Its only 7:30. Your school doesn't start until 9."
She took extra care in getting dressed.
"I want to wear a dress momma. M always wears dresses to school."
Finally it was time to leave. She was so excited, her wings flapping so hard that she could have flown to school.
"Momma, today is going to be the best day. I can't wait!"
She spotted M in the hallway. They ran to each other and hugged. M's blonde head with ribbons bent to Bunny's brunette head with a high ponytail. They whispered secrets. M approved of Bunny's purple dress, her favorite color is purple.
When it was time to go into class, the girls held hands. They waived off their mother's attempts to say good bye. There were more important things to do.
At pick up time, the teacher commented about the upcoming play date. She mentioned the girls held hands and played together the whole day. The girls were excited about their picnic at the park. They didn't even mind when they found out S was joining them. Bunny declared that S could be the look out for prickly weeds when they picked dandelions because S "is a boy and that's his job".
Bunny and M shared their lunches. They ran on the playground together. They picked dandelions and violets. They danced on picnic tables and "put on a show" for the mommies.
They were so sad when it was time for the play date to end. But they made plans to play at each other's houses. I think Bunny would have brought M home with her if she could.
As we pulled out of the parking lot Bunny sighed "I miss M. She is my best friend." My heart nearly burst with joy.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Rust
My fingers sit poised over the keyboard unsure of what to do. They touch keys here and there, as if the S, the R and the L could tell them what to do. They used to fly so freely, tapping out truth and story. My truth. My story.
My mind runs through endless to do lists. I have to do this. I need to remember that. It has not run through a field, picking dandelions for inspiration. My mind has not spun fantastical stories. It has not given birth to wonderful ideas that have me springing out of bed at 2 am to have my fingers express.
There is a rust in my fingers and a haze in my mind.
Once I was a writer. Once I created stories. Once I told truths.
Life and stress have dulled the vivid springs in my imagination. The technicolor jungle has been enveloped in dark shadows. The fairies and sprites do not dance as much, there is no music.
Occasionally, I feel footsteps. I hear the rushing waters and drum beats in the distance. I long to follow them to that place so beautiful and brilliant. I hope to catch a glimpse of words frolicking, joining together creating dazzling stories. I hope to catch them. I hope to set my fingers free once more to dance on the keyboard.
I want to tell stories.
I want to tell truths.
I want to shout once again, I am a writer.
My mind runs through endless to do lists. I have to do this. I need to remember that. It has not run through a field, picking dandelions for inspiration. My mind has not spun fantastical stories. It has not given birth to wonderful ideas that have me springing out of bed at 2 am to have my fingers express.
There is a rust in my fingers and a haze in my mind.
Once I was a writer. Once I created stories. Once I told truths.
Life and stress have dulled the vivid springs in my imagination. The technicolor jungle has been enveloped in dark shadows. The fairies and sprites do not dance as much, there is no music.
Occasionally, I feel footsteps. I hear the rushing waters and drum beats in the distance. I long to follow them to that place so beautiful and brilliant. I hope to catch a glimpse of words frolicking, joining together creating dazzling stories. I hope to catch them. I hope to set my fingers free once more to dance on the keyboard.
I want to tell stories.
I want to tell truths.
I want to shout once again, I am a writer.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Living
Even though it has seemed like my life is on hold waiting for news on Lion, it is not. My live has proceeded as normal. Normal being of the "why are there 500 legos all over the floor?", "no I do not know where the little parrot is, did you look for him?" and "I know you love ants, but you cannot bring them in the house" variety.
Every morning I am awakened by a little voice "Momma are you awake?"
Every morning I look into that sweet face and try to find traces of the little baby I met 3 1/2 years ago.
Every morning I marvel at how big she has become, all legs and arms, elbows and knees.
Every morning I answer questions like "Do pineapples grow on trees or on vines?" because she wants to make sure she is drawing them correctly.
Every morning I want to capture the essence of my little girl just as she is right now 4 and perfect.
Every morning I see her get excited about something, jumping up and down flapping her arms like she is trying to fly.
Every morning I reach for her, trying to hold her down. There will be time enough for flying little bird, right now stay in the nest with me.
Every night I sneak into her room to watch her sleep, arms and legs flung every which way. It is then and only then, in the curves of her face, that I see the little baby I met 3 1/2 years ago. My baby.
Every night I am thankful for the life that I am living.
Every night I realize that I am blessed.
Every morning I am awakened by a little voice "Momma are you awake?"
Every morning I look into that sweet face and try to find traces of the little baby I met 3 1/2 years ago.
Every morning I marvel at how big she has become, all legs and arms, elbows and knees.
Every morning I answer questions like "Do pineapples grow on trees or on vines?" because she wants to make sure she is drawing them correctly.
Every morning I want to capture the essence of my little girl just as she is right now 4 and perfect.
Every morning I see her get excited about something, jumping up and down flapping her arms like she is trying to fly.
Every morning I reach for her, trying to hold her down. There will be time enough for flying little bird, right now stay in the nest with me.
Every night I sneak into her room to watch her sleep, arms and legs flung every which way. It is then and only then, in the curves of her face, that I see the little baby I met 3 1/2 years ago. My baby.
Every night I am thankful for the life that I am living.
Every night I realize that I am blessed.
Friday, April 9, 2010
My Heart
My heart beats lub dub, lub dub, click.
The click was thrown in the mix just to remind me its not perfect, that I'm not perfect. Its the little imperfection, that I once thought would be the end of me, that has made me stronger more aware.
My heart beats lub dub, lub dub, click.
It beats for a little girl, a little girl I first held in my arms 3 1/2 years ago. I missed the first 9 months of her life. I never heard her heart beat in the womb. I missed her first breath. Even with all the time I missed, the love I felt for her was growing in my heart. I felt her with me. I felt her heart beating with mine. Lub dub. Lub dub. Click.
Since that day, my heart has grown stronger with the love I feel for her. Lub dub. Lub dub. Click.
My heart beats lub dub, lub dub, click.
It beats for a little boy who I have yet to meet, a boy I have yet to hold in my arms. I've missed the first 14 months of his life. I never heard his heart beat in the womb. I missed his first breath. I never saw him crawl. I missed his first steps. I did not hear his first word. Even with all the time I've missed, the love I feel for him is growing in my heart. I feel him with me. I feel his heart beating with mine. Lub dub. Lub dub. Click.
Despite the pain of waiting, my heart will not break. It will continue beating. It is strengthened by the hearts of two wonderful children.
My heart beats lub dub, lub dub, click.
The click was thrown in the mix just to remind me its not perfect, that I'm not perfect. Its the little imperfection, that I once thought would be the end of me, that has made me stronger more aware.
My heart beats lub dub, lub dub, click.
It beats for a little girl, a little girl I first held in my arms 3 1/2 years ago. I missed the first 9 months of her life. I never heard her heart beat in the womb. I missed her first breath. Even with all the time I missed, the love I felt for her was growing in my heart. I felt her with me. I felt her heart beating with mine. Lub dub. Lub dub. Click.
Since that day, my heart has grown stronger with the love I feel for her. Lub dub. Lub dub. Click.
My heart beats lub dub, lub dub, click.
It beats for a little boy who I have yet to meet, a boy I have yet to hold in my arms. I've missed the first 14 months of his life. I never heard his heart beat in the womb. I missed his first breath. I never saw him crawl. I missed his first steps. I did not hear his first word. Even with all the time I've missed, the love I feel for him is growing in my heart. I feel him with me. I feel his heart beating with mine. Lub dub. Lub dub. Click.
Despite the pain of waiting, my heart will not break. It will continue beating. It is strengthened by the hearts of two wonderful children.
My heart beats lub dub, lub dub, click.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Remembering
I'm selfish. I get so caught up in my own issues, my own pain, my own heartbreak that I forget. Not today, today I remember.
A smile that could melt your heart.
Bright eyes that you could look into forever.
A beautiful face I have only seen in a picture.
A little girl who touched my life and the lives of so many.
Today I remember Maddie Spohr and her parents Heather and Mike. Much love to you today and always.
A smile that could melt your heart.
Bright eyes that you could look into forever.
A beautiful face I have only seen in a picture.
A little girl who touched my life and the lives of so many.
Today I remember Maddie Spohr and her parents Heather and Mike. Much love to you today and always.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Paper Dolls
One piece of paper.
One small piece of paper.
In the adoption game, paper is everything. You need paper proof of your birth, your marriage, your health, your finances, your background, your fitness to be a parent. Your life is neatly summarized into a pile of paper.
You are judged on that paper. Are you good enough to be a parent? What do the papers say?
Paper can make or break you.
Your child is referred to you based on the paper you.
The ministry approves the referral based on the paper you and adds one more piece of paper to the mix.
The court finalizes the adoption based on the paper you and the ministry's approval.
Travel is approved based on the paper you, the ministry's approval and the court's finalization.
You can then finally hold your child in your arms while you wait for the final piece of paper to be issued, a visa allowing him to come home to America.
Paper is everything. The paper trail you build leads to your child. If everything goes smoothly, the paper trail is easy to walk. It takes time but there is an ending point on the paper trail.
Paper is everything. Every piece of paper is important. If one piece of paper is missing or misplaced, this paper trail becomes a roller coaster ride.
If a piece of paper is missing, your court case gets adjourned one, maybe two times.
If your name is erroneously put on a piece of paper you are informed you passed court when you did not. You are so high.
When the paper error is discovered, you come careening back towards earth at 100 miles per hour.
When the misplaced paper is found, you are notified that you have passed court. Your travel is approved. You have climbed so, so very high.
When a piece of paper goes missing, maybe the same one, maybe another, the ministry refuses to issue a birth certificate or a passport for your child. Your travel is revoked. Your euphoria is gone. You only have the terror of crashing back to earth.
Paper is everything.
One little piece of paper can unite you with your child.
One little piece of paper can keep you from holding your child in your arms.
One little piece of paper can break your heart into a million pieces.
(About two hours after I published my last post about bringing Lion home, we were informed that another piece of paper had gone missing and that our travel had been revoked. We will not be leaving in two weeks. We do not know when we can see our son.)
One small piece of paper.
In the adoption game, paper is everything. You need paper proof of your birth, your marriage, your health, your finances, your background, your fitness to be a parent. Your life is neatly summarized into a pile of paper.
You are judged on that paper. Are you good enough to be a parent? What do the papers say?
Paper can make or break you.
Your child is referred to you based on the paper you.
The ministry approves the referral based on the paper you and adds one more piece of paper to the mix.
The court finalizes the adoption based on the paper you and the ministry's approval.
Travel is approved based on the paper you, the ministry's approval and the court's finalization.
You can then finally hold your child in your arms while you wait for the final piece of paper to be issued, a visa allowing him to come home to America.
Paper is everything. The paper trail you build leads to your child. If everything goes smoothly, the paper trail is easy to walk. It takes time but there is an ending point on the paper trail.
Paper is everything. Every piece of paper is important. If one piece of paper is missing or misplaced, this paper trail becomes a roller coaster ride.
If a piece of paper is missing, your court case gets adjourned one, maybe two times.
If your name is erroneously put on a piece of paper you are informed you passed court when you did not. You are so high.
When the paper error is discovered, you come careening back towards earth at 100 miles per hour.
When the misplaced paper is found, you are notified that you have passed court. Your travel is approved. You have climbed so, so very high.
When a piece of paper goes missing, maybe the same one, maybe another, the ministry refuses to issue a birth certificate or a passport for your child. Your travel is revoked. Your euphoria is gone. You only have the terror of crashing back to earth.
Paper is everything.
One little piece of paper can unite you with your child.
One little piece of paper can keep you from holding your child in your arms.
One little piece of paper can break your heart into a million pieces.
(About two hours after I published my last post about bringing Lion home, we were informed that another piece of paper had gone missing and that our travel had been revoked. We will not be leaving in two weeks. We do not know when we can see our son.)
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Lion Is Coming Home!!
We got the call on Monday that we had passed court and that we were going to be included in the April travel group. This means that we are leaving in less than two weeks to bring home our son! I cannot believe this. Everything we have waited so long for is finally coming true.
I was so excited. I called and e-mailed friends and family. I shared the news on Twitter and FaceBook. I thought I had covered all the bases but I hadn't. I forgot to tell you, my faithful readers of this blog. For that I am sorry. You have followed our story for a long time and you deserved to know when something good finally happened.
And this really is the best news of all.
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