First, we scrapped our original plans for Friday night, and headed out to our favorite Indian restaurant to celebrate! Then after we received our package of acceptance paperwork, we got busy with our pens. One of Peter's finer qualities is his willingness to dive head-first into government forms.
* * * * * * * * * * *
YES! It finally happened! I am so, so happy to announce that today we sent out a giant sheaf of paperwork to officially accept the referral of our next daughter!
(After 3 years and 5 months of waiting, I can't believe I just typed that!)
And the title of this post is really, truly what I said when Jynger, our agency's India program director, called us. I was taken completely by surprise, because earlier in the week we had some communication from her suggesting that some of us who have been waiting a loooonng time may wish to consider other country programs.
So we did. We researched three different programs last week, even participating in a conference call for an hour with another country's program director. But one after another, the doors kept closing on the other countries for a variety of reasons. Finally, Friday morning, one final door slammed in our face. Peter and I sat on the couch and began searching the U.S. foster system for a child that met our home study parameters. There was only one match in the entire foster system that fit the age range allowed in our home study.
And then I broke down and sobbed.
I told Peter that I felt like I was grieving the dream of having another daughter from India, and grieving the idea of our girls sharing the same heritage and birth country. We sat together on the couch like that for some time.
We started to fill out an inquiry about the 3-year-old child in the foster system . . . then Peter said, "We have an e-mail from Jynger. She wants to know what time would be good to call today." We didn't think anything of this request -- we had been on the phone with her several times last week. And I had to leave in 15 minutes for a mammogram (T.M.I.?), because I'd spaced my appointment the previous week.
So when I answered, and Jynger very calmly said, "I have some information about the referral of a little girl from your orphanage," naturally I said, "GET OUT OF HERE!" Honestly, that thought had not even entered my mind! Peter heard me, and saw my eyes popping out of my head, and said, "WHAT?? SHUT UP!" And he knew instantly what Jynger was calling about.
And now, thanks to our first responses to the good news, we shall forever be remembered as the least profound, least noble, least spiritual parents in the history of adoption. :o)
But we don't care! Because we have seen the first picture of our daughter . . . and I would love nothing better than to share her sweet, smiling photo, but the new rules say I can't do that until we receive guardianship in the courts! Argh!!!! But I can tell you that "K" is 14 months old, and has endured so much in her short little life. She is a survivor, and a treasure, and a perfect little dear lovingly created by our Abba.
What next? Why, we wait, of course! We now wait for K's case to move through the court system in her city, and pray like mad that we pass through each step in the process as quickly as possible.
And for now, we thank God for weaving this little girl into our family, and stare and stare at a tiny photo of our dear K.
Next time, I'll share a few more details, and the kids' reactions -- they were priceless! But right now I must take the oldest three to school to meet their new teachers.
YES! It finally happened! I am so, so happy to announce that today we sent out a giant sheaf of paperwork to officially accept the referral of our next daughter!
(After 3 years and 5 months of waiting, I can't believe I just typed that!)
And the title of this post is really, truly what I said when Jynger, our agency's India program director, called us. I was taken completely by surprise, because earlier in the week we had some communication from her suggesting that some of us who have been waiting a loooonng time may wish to consider other country programs.
So we did. We researched three different programs last week, even participating in a conference call for an hour with another country's program director. But one after another, the doors kept closing on the other countries for a variety of reasons. Finally, Friday morning, one final door slammed in our face. Peter and I sat on the couch and began searching the U.S. foster system for a child that met our home study parameters. There was only one match in the entire foster system that fit the age range allowed in our home study.
And then I broke down and sobbed.
I told Peter that I felt like I was grieving the dream of having another daughter from India, and grieving the idea of our girls sharing the same heritage and birth country. We sat together on the couch like that for some time.
We started to fill out an inquiry about the 3-year-old child in the foster system . . . then Peter said, "We have an e-mail from Jynger. She wants to know what time would be good to call today." We didn't think anything of this request -- we had been on the phone with her several times last week. And I had to leave in 15 minutes for a mammogram (T.M.I.?), because I'd spaced my appointment the previous week.
So when I answered, and Jynger very calmly said, "I have some information about the referral of a little girl from your orphanage," naturally I said, "GET OUT OF HERE!" Honestly, that thought had not even entered my mind! Peter heard me, and saw my eyes popping out of my head, and said, "WHAT?? SHUT UP!" And he knew instantly what Jynger was calling about.
And now, thanks to our first responses to the good news, we shall forever be remembered as the least profound, least noble, least spiritual parents in the history of adoption. :o)
But we don't care! Because we have seen the first picture of our daughter . . . and I would love nothing better than to share her sweet, smiling photo, but the new rules say I can't do that until we receive guardianship in the courts! Argh!!!! But I can tell you that "K" is 14 months old, and has endured so much in her short little life. She is a survivor, and a treasure, and a perfect little dear lovingly created by our Abba.
What next? Why, we wait, of course! We now wait for K's case to move through the court system in her city, and pray like mad that we pass through each step in the process as quickly as possible.
And for now, we thank God for weaving this little girl into our family, and stare and stare at a tiny photo of our dear K.
Next time, I'll share a few more details, and the kids' reactions -- they were priceless! But right now I must take the oldest three to school to meet their new teachers.