On Tuesday we sent out the paperwork and a giant check to Citizenship and Immigration Services. Actually, we were told to make the check out to Department of Homeland Security. It chapped my ass. Erik said perhaps we should make it out to Haliburton directly. But it is afterall for a good cause. And it gets us one step closer to our next child. You know what is so weird? Everytime I need to say or type baby/child, it feels wrong not to say the plural. Or at least "child(ren)". How strange and exciting to not know what is coming our way.
Every paper we sign, every phone call, email, notarization gets us closer. But what I can not deny or shake is that whatever is happening now in our future child's life (or children's lives) is tragic. Right now they are struggling. Right now, wherever they are, whoever is caring for them--- they are hungry. And they don't have enough clean water. The people who love them, the people whom they love, don't have the medication they need. It is hard to watch the crust of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich go down the disposal when my Ethiopian children are hungry. It is hard to water plants without thinking of them. If I let it all in, it could immobilize me. So the only thing to do is let it remind me of how blessed I am and how thankful I am that eventually they will be here with us.
A Bronx Tale
1 day ago