unhealthy hearts

today i scheduled bella's cardiac consult appointment.  this is the second time i have had to schedule this.  last august i made the call thinking we would possibly have her by january 2010.  i had to cancel that one.  the day i called and told them we just wouldn't have her that early, my voice cracked. they were pleasant and sweet and told me to reschedule when we were closer to getting her.  so now with our LOA in hand,  i called.  i've never been particularly good at scheduling appointments for the four, healthy kids living in our home.  scheduling one for a daughter i have not yet held, was unbelievably strange.  we have a date though:  friday morning, july 16th.  it may be cutting it close...there's a chance i'll have to push it back again.  but not months...maybe just a week or two...not months.  i am sure.  i hung up the phone and prayed, "Lord, let this one be right."  let us walk into that cardiologist's office on a sunny, summer, friday morning.  let us Lord.  please, let us.  let this be the day when we finally have some information on our little girl.  right now we know so little.  sometimes i just cannot wrap my brain around the fact that we have a tiny girl waiting on the other side of the world.  a tiny girl who had open heart surgery last july.  a tiny girl with a serious medical condition but in an orphanage which hasn't allowed us even the most scant update.  all we know is "she hasn't had to go back to the doctor."  she wouldn't be taken unless there was something blatantly wrong.  well, that's a blessing....but in our country where well visits and specialists and preventive medicine is the norm...i realize how far apart our worlds really are. the nurse asked me to list the problems with her heart.  i started to recite words and terms which are now a part of my vocabulary.  i listed the three different conditions with her heart and when i asked her if she wanted more information, she paused and then answered, "umm...no...i've run out of room to write."  i faltered for a moment.  this IS a lot.  i looked at the file on the kitchen counter and at all the long, hard to pronounce names and i felt my own heart skip a beat.  i felt that breathlessness which sometimes hits me in small waves of anxiety.  we've had people ask us if we "really know what adopting a child from another country with special needs will look like."  our answer:  no.  we don't.   we've read articles and books. we've been counseled. we've done the coursework and  the videos and the etc... but truth be told,  we really don't know. we can't possibly know.  we've also had numerous people remark how eager we must be to get her to america so that she can have good medical care.  so that her heart can be monitored ...fixed...repaired...healed.   oh yes. of course we are eager.  of course we will want to seek out the best care available.  of course we are thrilled to be living in a city like atlanta which has all sorts of tremendous options.  but....i have to tell you, there's more to this picture.  bringing bella to america to fix her broken heart is part of it.  yes.   but here's the deal...if you ask us what really is most exciting about adopting this child and bringing her home, it is the chance she will have to hear someday about the eternal healing of her heart.   are you following?  yes, she will come and receive good medical care for her physical, earthly, temporary heart.  but even more so,  this child will come and hear about Jesus, the lover of her heart.  she will hear about Jesus, the healer of broken hearts.  she will hear about Jesus and have the chance to know Him and His eternal healing.  i have tried to put words to this in the past.  it is almost impossible.  adoption is such the picture of our relationship with Christ.  He adopts us into His kingdom.  we are absolutely helpless and hopeless without Him. we have no advocate, no means, nothing to bring, no thing to offer.  but He chooses us and brings us home.  as broken people, we are all in need of some good heart-fixing.  we are all in need of some major restoration and repair whether we live in china or america.   i am amazed that God chose for us this little girl with an unhealthy heart.   really these words are not sufficient to express the joy i feel when i think about the way our God works to show His great love and His great glory.  i have written about this passage - isaiah 61- in other posts, but it just keeps coming back to me.  it is the very picture of rescue....it is the picture of how God rescues us and tenderly places upon our heads a Crown of Beauty....how He covers our sad situations with the Oil of Gladness and a Garment of Praise....how he binds up our brokenness...and proclaims freedom and release....

"He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners....

to comfort all who mourn...

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness

instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

instead of a spirit of despair." 

~ isaiah 61

an early LOA and a little humble pie

my phone rang.  i recognized our adoption agent's number.  it must be josh.  why would he be calling?  uh-oh, what is wrong? i thought...
  "jody, i have great news!" he said immediately.  "great news...i can't even believe this, but your LOA is back early.  much earlier than expected." 
  "what? are you kidding me?" i was stunned.  we had just this past week come to terms with the fact that we were still possibly a month away from receiving this LOA.   i, too, couldn't believe it.
   "that's awesome, great, unbelievable...wow..." i stumbled through my excitement, not really knowing what to say.  i could feel the smile stretch across my face.  i could feel the increased beat of my heart and the joy spreading to the tips of my toes. this was big.  and i knew it.
   josh continued, "average wait time on this is typically 60+ days...yours came back in 29 days.  i don't know why. i am not sure we've ever had one come back this early.  it's crazy.  this actually puts you a month ahead of where we thought you'd be."
   "josh, i know.  i can't believe it...but in a way i can.   do you know the hundreds of people praying for bella right now?" i replied.
just last week josh had told me because of the timing, we probably wouldn't be getting bella until end of summer or early fall.  we had been hoping all along for early summer, convinced that bringing her home before we were into another busy school year would be best.  i grew panicy at the thought of leaving our crazy household in august as emily started high school and the other three resumed their hectic schedules.  i asked people to pray specifically that this would speed up.  the very night before the phone call, while tyler was praying at bedtime, he asked God to move things along more quickly.   only a few days ago in my last blog entry (just the facts mam), i wrote about how our dates added up to a later travel time but declared we would pray "earnestly and expectantly" for an earlier date.  crazy.  i would like to say that this was our faith. i would like to write that we prayed with complete faith God would indeed move things along....that  we prayed expectantly as we are instructed to do.  but i would be lying.  i typed that phrase, yes.  i said those words, yes.  but i can tell you it was probably more just a plea than it was a statement of my strong belief.  i am sure on the inside i was thinking more along the lines of, "well...we'll pray this way, but we know nothing goes quickly in the world of adoption.  we know that smooth is not usually the descriptive adjective used...we know most things come back late, not early."  i typed "earnestly and expectantly", but truthfully, i felt half hearted and doubtful.
when i got the call this week from josh i experienced disbelief and great joy.  soon after though,  i had an intense moment of embarrassment.  i had doubted God.   deep in my heart i had doubted God, the Savior and Father of bella grace.   i doubted the God who has been delivering people from darkness and imprisonment for thousands of years. God who parted the red sea.  God who provided manna in the wilderness. God who protected daniel in the lions' den.  God who walked on water. God who multiplied fish and bread. God who has rescued me from great darkness.   what could i say?  once again, completely humbled that He would choose to work through this adoption teaching me even more Great is His Faithfulness.  our children recognized it immediately.  they knew prayers had been answered.  there didn't have to be a reason for our LOA to come back so quickly.  it came back quickly because God heard their prayers. God hears their prayers.  their faith is simple.  my thoughts were centering on china and the government and the system and all of its miles of red tape.  i hadn't factored in a our miraculous and all powerful God.   i hadn't factored in that for a God who moves moutains this piece of paper was nothing.
so with that lesson learned, we go forward.  we now have about 60 days until we will receive our TA (travel approval).  if things continue to move along, we will most likely be heading to china sometime at the end of june or early july. we are thrilled.   not because we convinced God of our timing...but because we are convinvced that His timing is perfect.   as i stated in the last entry, "He knows the very day we will walk in that orphanage and hold our bella for the first time."  we will continue to pray earnestly and expectantly....and we will.

just the facts mam!

my original intention with this blog was to keep everyone updated on the very latest concerning our adoption of bella grace.  but as is usual with me, words get in the way.  why say something short and sweet when i can elaborate, elongate and extenuate. why skip down a succint path when i can travel a more circuitous route. even my 12 year old son recently told me, "mom, you could turn anything into a story."  i am pretty sure he wasn't paying me a compliment.  if you've been reading my blog for very long you are, by now, quite certain i was the student who always ran over in her essays and long in her explanations.  i was constantly told in red slashing marks to condense and cut and curtail.  when i finally stood in front of my own english students, i formed a new appreciation for the direct writer.  it took only grading my first batch of essays from my 125 students before i realized that words were perhaps a bit overrated. as my weekends were filled with piles of papers and containers of red pens, i secretly began to dread those students who suffered from my own disease: excessive-wordiness.  they were inadvertently keeping me buried in piles of paperwork.   in my years as a high school teacher i had countless opportunities to write in bold red letters the authoritative phrases, "be more concise"...."get to the point"...."too wordy!"  recently, i even had a former student of mine remind me of this fact on facebook.  but perhaps i've been out of the classroom too long,  because here we are in the ninth month of our adoption journey and though i have expelled thousands of words on the subject of bella and her adoption i realize it is not always clear where exactly we are in the process. if you are a person who prefers bullet points to paragraphs then you will appreciate this admission and my renewed effort to every once in a while produce only the facts (mam).  

 the facts, definitions and timeline:
* DOSSIER - (a large and comprehensive file that contains everything possible about our adoption and our family...i am certain they have included the fact that the mcnatt family prefers jif to skippy...seriously.) the dossier was sent at the end of february to the CCAA (children's center for adoption affairs) in china.


* LID - (Log in Date):  march 17, 2010 - this is the date that the dossier was officially logged into china's adoption system.


* LOA - (Letter of Approval):  we are waiting for this date when we will be officially approved by china and officially matched to bella grace.  as of today, april 13, we were told that we are still probably 3 weeks away. we were "pre-approved" last july...but that has little to do with our actual approval.


* Final Immigration - once that LOA arrives we will apply once more to the CIS for immigration with the US government.  this time around we are applying for bella grace to be granted approval to come to the US.  that process typically takes 2-3 months for approval.


* TA (Travel Approval) - once final immigration is finished we will receive our TA.  at this point we will have a specific timeframe of when we will be heading to china to get our bella.
 
though these dates seem to add up to an early fall travel time....we are praying earnestly and expectantly that summer is a possibility.  our adoption agent still believes that a late july or early august timeframe is within reach. 


we know God has this all figured out.  we trust that He knows the very date... the very hour that rick and i will walk into that orphanage and hold bella in our arms for the very first time.  He planned it long ago.  He planned it before we even knew about bella...before we even knew we were going to adopt.  isn't that amazing?
but...because i am human and struggle a bit with issues of control...   i have made sure He knows how strongly i believe summer to be our best option.   i have explained countless times to Him that the fall would be a little more challenging.  i have pointed out how crazy our august could be with emily starting high school and volleyball and the other children preparing for a new school year, not to mention this is our child and each day apart feels stolen.   i have made it pretty clear what i think is perfect timing.   i have done my very best to be persuasive.   i know...pathetic.  i am just being honest here. will i ever learn to walk fully behind Him with arms wide open and the plans and schemes of my own heart put aside.   i don't know.  i am trying.  i am really trying.  but even my trying amounts to nothing much without Him.   


okay, so that's it.  that was the best i can do.  i realize that i probably have still exceeded the word limit and that those bullet points are surrounded with lengthy paragraphs...
but...well...i tried.   what can i say?

smooshed squirrels and sunday afternoons

 it was a sunday afternoon and we were heading home from church.  instead of bickering about who sat in which seat...instead of debating who would eat the last slice of pizza for lunch....instead of poking our sibling or sassing our mother....we were actually having a nice, calm, and even tender, conversation about our adoption of bella.  but then it happened. we were speeding along the quiet road just minutes from our street when that poor, unfortunate squirrel froze a few feet ahead of our suv.  we all screamed. we all winced.  we all cringed.   we all looked behind our car to see nothing more than a wisp of fluffy tail fluttering in the breeze of our yukon.   rick, the guilty driver, quickly pleaded his case.  "he zigged when he should have zagged!" was the best he could come up with.  not good enough for our car load of children.  actually, our 12 year old son was very much on his dad's side, agreeing that the squirrel, lacking poor judgment, was clearly the one at fault.  connor, age 7, though, was not to be easily consoled.  he immediately listed all dad's other atrocities against small animals in the road which he has apparently had opportunity to witness - some of which i wasn't even aware.   so much for our sweet and tender conversation.  this was real life:  running over squirrels and arguing over the last slices of pizza.  these are some of the things that just make our family normal and real.  these are things that remind us of who we are even in the sweet story of our adoption.
      you see, it is particularly amusing to me because just that very morning at church a video was shown during the sermon. this video portrayed a family which seemed to be fully relying on God...fully in pursuit of His will for their lives....fully trusting...fully faithful...fully together.   funny what a little bit of editing can do.  the children were smiling brightly as the video began.  the parents seemed somewhat poised and spoke calmly and with conviction.  this family told the story of God's calling them to the adoption of a two year old girl in China.  but what the video didn't show was that just prior to filming the children were aruging over breakfast cereals...the mother was barking orders while in a cleaning frenzy (you just never know what corners they might catch on tape)...the father was attempting to keep peace and wondering when he might be able to get to his saturday "to do" list.  the video didn't show how i pondered deeply over the great issues of my hairstyle and outfit.  the video didn't show how just a few nights prior i was up in the early hours of morning asking...begging... God for greater peace. it didn't mention that sometimes i find myself wondering how in the world we will add one more child into an already ridiculously bustling household.  the video didn't show the moments when i can't catch my breath or feel that icy grip of panic run down my arms.   that family in the video was us. sitting in the balcony at church it was sort of strange watching the six of us up on the screen...larger than life. to be honest, it was a bit unsettling.  i recognized us, but, somehow, it all looked very polished. we are not a polished kind of family.  just like that smooshed squirrel behind us on the road, we have these intensely messy moments in our lives and in this story.  there was not one word we spoke in that taped video which wasn't true.  we meant everything we said.   but we would be remiss if we didn't share how much struggle and challenge and chaos also plays along behind the scenes.  doing a video was easy (well, sort of).   just before they started filming on that saturday morning a month ago, i remember thinking, they will just edit out anything i mess up on...any place i stumble or stutter.  i knew that with just the touch of a button they could easily gloss over any mistakes made or words misspoken.  even as the camera crew was packing up and saying goodbye, matthew, the producer reminded me that he would edit it down to only about 4 to 6 minutes.  they had taken about 25 minutes of tape...certainly there had to be something they could use.
      so in comparison to real life,  video stories are pretty easy.  i'm glad we did it.  we were honored to have a small part in such a powerful message given that morning. we are thrilled God might use our story to bring awareness to the epidemic issues of the lonely.  we did a video and will do whatever it takes to help spread this message of great need.  and because there are always squirrels crossing in front of us, we will be reminded that this is a messy business.  raising our biological children or adopting from china...all of it comes with struggle and challenge and panic.  we can't always press a button and erase the times we blunder terribly. we cannot gloss over much of it.  but, regardless of our mess, God continues to write the story and He continues to walk with us.  He isn't asking us to be perfectly poised or calm or even ready.  He doesn't care one bit about which hairstyle or outfit we choose. He isn't asking for all our ducks (or children, for that matter) to be lined up in straight and strategic rows.  He is only asking us to be willing.  just willing. only willing.

made in china

"made in china," connor read out loud from the backseat.  he had just torn open his dollar store gun and handcuff set. "mom, everything seems to be made in china, doesn't it?" 
"yes buddy," i replied.  "it sure does."
"i kind of like that mom. you know why, mom?"
"no connor, why?"  i asked a little hesitantly.  for a kid who just turned 7 he comes up with some pretty out-of-the-box stuff every now and then, so i could only imagine where he was taking this conversation. of course he didn't disappoint me.
"i like that because every time i read it i think of baby zuzu. and i sure do read that a  whole lot."
i did my best to continue driving as the tears crept to the corners of my eyes. 
"yes, connor, i like that a lot too. i had never thought about it, but your right that is good." 
"yep, it reminds me of her because she's made in china too!" he said cheerfully and with a self-approving chuckle. "and just like all of these things we have that come from china, she'll be here soon."


a plastic, dollar store, gun set.  a toy i somehow got talked into.  a purchase really quite unnecessary. an item which surely will be broken or misplaced within hours.
...but today a conversation which an anxiously waiting mom really needed.

a little behind

so we're a little behind.  i'm used to that.  it seems to be par for my course  - this decade anyway. this running behind should fall well within the rhythm of my normal stride.  but i had one of those mini-panic attacks earlier today when i started thinking about the months still ahead.  yesterday, we (finally, finally, finally) received news that our dossier was on its way to china.  my timeline had it there by january 1st.  february 23rd isn't that far off the mark...but far enough to make me a little crazy when adding up the days.  


i realize full well that i am only seeing part of the picture.  only seeing one section of this grand tapestry God is weaving.  i am limited. oh, so very limited.   my human-ness and my frail-ness and my small-ness have this way of taking control of my emotions.  my shortsighted view sees a family of six that will need to make adjustments to a new sister.  it sees a two year old entering the picture where there hasn't been a two year old for a long time.  the reality of emily graduating from her comfortable, well known elementary school, and preparing for a big, unknown high school  is beginning to hit me lately.  all of a sudden i see five children at five very different stages and i have to wonder where i will find the energy and creativity to pull us all together as a family of seven.  i have this constant battle with time waging inside me.  one part wants desperately to fast forward to the day rick and i will board a plane headed to china. i want to speed up the months which separate us from bella.  i would like to step over them as if they were just a crack in the sidewalk which i need barely acknowledge.  the other part is frantically searching for that elusive pause button on my family.  emily heads off to high school in a matter of months...tyler, sarah elizabeth and connor grow and change before my very eyes.  i just want to yell, "time out everyone!" or "freeze!"  i want to walk around their little figures and memorize their expressions and their height and their width and their youth.  i want to drink in who they are today, at this very moment...because tomorrow it will be different.  


if i have learned one thing in my 14 years of mothering, it is that nothing lasts very long.  we are in a constant flux of seasons and when i blink i am liable to miss years.   it was just a few nights ago when sleep would not come that i got up in the early hours before dawn and went into the rooms of my sleeping children.  i had a sudden and intense longing to see them.  to watch the peace spread over them like a light blanket.  i just wanted to see them in a state of quiet...in a state of rest.  so often i watch them running by me.  running out the door.  running off to practice.  running over to a friend's house.  if my oldest reads this she will, no doubt, be completely freaked out by the admission of my midnight wanderings.  in her book that would not be a tender mother moment, but a creepy stalker acitivity.  anyway, i guess this is so much what motherhood looks like for all of us.  i know i am no different.  i am  not special.  this is the great beauty and this is the great sadness that weave together to create the same picture.  


if i was being honest, i'd tell you there are days when i don't really want to gaze at my children at all.  i, in fact, want them out of my kitchen,  off the couch and altogether out of my hair.  but, then there are those moments when i could weep seeing their independence.  one morning, not too long ago,  i came downstairs to find connor warming up syrup for the waffles he had already toasted.  he was dressed for school. his shoes were on and tied and his snack was in his backpack.  he is six.  should six year olds be warming their own syrup?  i don't know.  part of me loves that.  on many days, i am certainly quite thankful for his resourceful fourth child spirit.  but every now and then i think, "oh no, honey, let mommy do that."  do we ever achieve the perfect balance?  at this point, i am thinking no.  i am thinking we just do what we can with what we have and we stay on our knees. on our knees...always on our knees.


anyway, this post is tending to ramble mightily.  i have somehow moved from a dossier heading to china to a six year old warming his eggo syrup, but i know you understand.  these are the things of which our lives are made. we have big occasions and grand times and we have simple trifles and trivial moments...all of it blends together in this gift we have been given: our lives.   and somehow in this little bit of time here on earth we have to figure out how to soak it in, drink it up and hold it tight.   there will be rare moments when we are out ahead and there will also be many times when we are running little behind.  and this is life.

"show me, o Lord, my life's end and the number of my days;

let me know how fleeting is my life.

 you have made my days a mere

handbreadth;

the span of my years is as nothing before you. 

each man's life is but a breath."

psalm 39:4-5

be mine

i held in my hand a tiny sugared heart. "be mine," it read. it is february and every imaginable surface is littered with hearts. pink ones. red ones. tiny ones. frosted ones. as i clutched this candy in my fist i could think only of one broken heart. the broken heart of baby zuzu in china. we grow closer to her each day.  we have been told our dossier is just about ready to head to china.  we thought it might be there by early january...but we seem to be regularly at least a month behind all of our plans.  i guess it is time to just agree we are moving a month or two faster than the system. at times we feel like greedy and impatient children. we want to rush over to guangzhou city china and rescue this little girl and her sick heart. we want her to, "be mine." we want to stamp our feet and clench our fists and demand she, "be ours!" right now. but there is paperwork to finish and approvals to receive and unruly ducks to get in a line. at times we feel out of control and ridiculously unqualified. our four biological children and our four billion commitments pull  us every which way. we are ill equipped and clearly understaffed. somedays we seem to be wrapped only in our fraility and fear, looking to make a mad dash for the door. but we don't. we don't because this is about something more than us. it is even about something more than our love. it is about God's love. and we are reminded at these moments when we want to demand and insist and panic....we are reminded that she's His. before she will ever be ours, she belongs first to Him. this makes all the difference. it is what makes us bold and determined. it is what brings us peace, and on good days, patience. we know baby zuzu belongs to God and He is the one whispering gently in her ear, be mine. He has kindly invited us along on the journey. for that we are grateful and thankful, if not a little frightened. this morning i sit here with this tiny confection heart in my helpless hand. i am comforted knowing God has promised to hold our little girl in the palm of His big and mighty hand. and this february, whether the hearts are candy or chocolate, tiny or large, healthy or broken, i hear the soft and reassuring whisper of His voice, she's mine.

a mother

this week i have thought often of zuzu's biological mother. i am sure february 5th did not pass by without her remembering the daughter she left alone in a hallway. i am sure there is still much grief and pain involved. i cannot imagine the depth of her brokenness. we may never know why she chose to abandon her 5 month old daughter. it could have been as selfish as the inconvenience of a child or it could have been as selfless as hope for medical care and a brighter future. we don't know for sure, but i would like to believe the latter. she was left wrapped in a blanket with a small note attached. she was left in a hospital corridor, not an alleyway. and though i cannot fathom abandoning a child, i also cannot fathom being penniless in china with a sick child. with little hope for medical care. with little hope in general.  i cannot fathom having no one to help. no place to turn. my heart breaks for this grieving woman. she may no longer hold her daughter, but she holds the scars and the wounds and the guilt. i would imagine she clutches much of that loss tightly to her chest, even today, two years later.
      oh, how i wish i could tell her about this crazy family of six living in alpharetta georgia -on the other side of the world -waiting for her little girl.  i wish i could tell her how we already love her... we already long for her. how we so desperately want her. i wish i could invite her into the rooms we are readying...the place we are preparing.  should she be a guest at our dinner table, she would hear talk of a little girl for whom we wait.  should she observe bedtime in our home, she would surely hear the prayers of four children asking God's protection and healing for a child we call bella.  oh, how i wish to tell her how on that day of abandonment, her little girl was not abandoned.  how she was not alone.  i would share with her my confidence in a Heavenly Father watching over her even in that hallway...especially in that hallway.  His eye was on the sparrow. His eye is on the sparrow...and i know He watches over bella grace.

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,

Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,

When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free,

For His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

“Let not your heart be troubled,' His tender word I hear,

And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;

Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,

When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,

I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

february fifth...

we have this special birthday plate in our house. i made it many years ago for the kids.  the birthday child eats breakfast, lunch and dinner from this handpainted plate. it is quite unremarkable, but the children were all very excited about it when they were younger.  my oldest, emily, turns 14 tomorrow.  i am not sure it holds for her quite the same allure as it once did.  in fact, i am not sure she will eat even one of the three meals at our table tomorrow.  breakfast will most likely be a protein bar on the way out the door. the ritzy school cafeteria will host her birthday lunch.  and i am certain she will opt to eat dinner with the basketball team after her big playoff game.  the birthday plate will sit in its cupboard unattended this year.
there is hope for this ceramic tradition though.  tomorrow is also baby zuzu's birthday.  she turns two.  i am pretty sure she will be excited to eat from the mcnatt family birthday plate someday, but not this year. we thought we'd have her by now....but not yet.  we had dreams of pink party balloons and buttercream frosting.  we had visions of slipping her into a ruffled party dress and tiny buckled shoes.  what joy it will be introducing her to cheerfully wrapped gifts and a cake with her name in pale pink icing. but not this year.  there is much to do about birthdays in our home.  like most things in life, it is probably more about the anticipation than it is about the actual event.  this year for bella i imagine there was no one to build up her expectations or stir up her excitement.  no one to convince her, "this is your day!"   in an orphanage of hundreds of children, can she have her own day? i would think not.  she will wake tomorrow in a room with 35 or so children.  is anyone even aware that tomorrow she turns two?  i almost cannot bear writing that question just now.

last night i fell asleep thinking about the children who have turned two in our home.  emily.  tyler.  sarah elizabeth. connor.  i can remember (for the most part) their second birthdays. if i was honest, i'd have to tell you  things get a little fuzzy with the 3rd and 4th children.  but you get the idea.  they had 2nd birthdays.  they had parties. they had family to sing happy birthday and smother them with birthday kisses and wishes.  they ran in circles of wild delight.  probably not realizing much except that they belonged.  they were special.  they were loved.  it had little to do with the number of presents or party guests. it had much to do with the warmth and joy. they knew innately this was their day.  someday zuzu will dance in our arms and squeal in delight as she celebrates the day she was born. as she celebrates the day she was fearfully and wonderfully made. someday we will celebrate wildly with her.  someday we will sing happy birthday and we will serve her as much cake as any toddler can hold...on the birthday plate of course.

i think it is delightful having two daughters share the same birthday.  what an incredible thing.  i've heard a couple people remark about how that might be "tricky" or "hard"....i have to tell you there is nothing hard about it.  hard is having zuzu still in china on her birthday.  if my 14 year old has to share her day with a new sister at some point, that will only be good for her.  for us.  i gave up worrying about tricky long ago.  most things with a family our size are tricky.  i think it is beautiful that they share this date.  emily and zuzu are 12 years apart.  that is quite a gap.  when zuzu begins 1st grade, emily will begin college.  (i haven't told rick that quite yet).  perhaps this is one tiny added connection for these sisters. emily was zuzu's biggest advocate right from the start....before she new that they shared a birthday, in fact.  when we talked about the doctor's warning that she might not have a full, long or healthy life, emily was the first one to speak up and insist, "then that is all the more reason she needs to have a mom and a dad right now....even if it is only for a while....everyone deserves a mom and dad."  she put it in such simple terms.  rick and i could not begin to argue.  she was right.  it was all the more reason we needed to begin this journey.  emily has heard me tell that story several times this year, but i am not sure she is completely aware of the conviction behind her words.  children rarely know the depths they are capable of touching in their parents.  i suppose in some ways this is a good thing.

so tomorrow we will celebrate emily.  we will celebrate 14 years with a daughter who brings us incredible joy. we will celebrate a daughter we grow to love more each day.   but this celebration will be laced with some sense of the bittersweet.  though we cannot include bella in our birthday celebration today, we will celebrate because of her.  we will celebrate that God has placed our family on a journey toward her. there will come a day when she will be placed into our arms, just as our four other children were on the day of their births. that day is coming.  we imagine it.  we dream of it.  we sometimes even fear it.  that day we may not have any balloons or buttercream frosting on hand,  but we will have bella in our arms...and it will be a grand celebration....a true birthday party.

an ordinary day

dear bella ~  today is an ordinary day.  it is one of those mid-january days filled with quiet and cold.   i did have to get up early, pack a few lunches, check a few backpacks and shuffle four tired kids out the door, but that is most days.  that is my normal... my ordinary. but now it is quiet and i am home this morning with nothing pressing on my list,  nothing exciting on my calendar,  and nothing exceptional in my day.  i have been sitting here with my coffee and my dog and my morning and i have been thinking about you.  i just wanted you to know that.  i wanted you to know how somedays my first thoughts are of you.  often as i wake in the morning, i think of you preparing for bedtime in china.  i pray that you are wearing a warm, comfy sleeper.  i pray that you are cuddled up with a soft blanket and listening to the soothing sounds of nighttime.  i kind of doubt this is the case, but i pray that for you.   i want you to know i would pretty much do anything to skip over to china and be the woman who rubs your back or smooths your hair as you drift off.   when it is my turn to close my tired eyes, i often consider what you might be doing 13 hours ahead of us.  you are usually close to lunch time in your day.  there is this wee bit of comfort in knowing that.  i imagine your days in the orphanage are often rather ordinary days.  i'm fairly certain they aren't days filled with pony rides or ice cream cones or visits to the circus.  i really know so little about orphanages and exactly what happens in the course of the day. perhaps that is in some way a blessing.  a few nights ago your sisters, emily and sarah, and i sat on their beds and talked about what we thought your day was like.   we tried...but none of us really had much of an idea.  our talk quickly shifted to what it might be like when you are finally in our home. under our roof.  in our arms.  that was easier subject material.  that was something we could put colors and scents and textures to.  our heads were immediately filled with thoughts of small buckled shoes and smocked dresses and baby doll strollers.  we could hear your quiet voice and maybe even your loud cries.  we could smell the fresh, soft scent of your hair after a bath and could feel your chubby hand in our own.  the joy of your giggle and the delight in your laughter are something for which we already long.  emily - your very oldest sister - made me promise we would dress you in only the cutest of clothes. she said specifically,  "none of these hand-me-down things, mom!"...not for our precious baby sister.  i fear you will be treated like a queen.  oh my!  i know i should immediately begin combatting that mindset...but i won't.  i can't.   i have this hunch you just might have two older sisters and two older brothers at your majesty's beck and call within a short time of making your entrance.  i won't let you run-a-muck with this, mind you, but i suspect i won't be able to fully halt or mask my secret delight in watching you rule your older and obedient subjects. oh yes, we shall see...someday.
someday i will walk through the door of your orphanage. someday i will stand in the very room in which you tonight sleep.  someday i will see where you have spent almost 2 years of your life.  i will know more then. the walls might not talk, but they will show signs of the life you have lead.  on that someday i will be the strange lady who holds you in her arms and carries you out of that orphanage door.  i will be the woman who will walk you into the china sunshine.  i will take you to a park and place you in a swing.   i will sit with you and watch birds or bumble bees or butterflies. i will gladly and eagerly watch you.  i hope that even on that first day we might smile together.  i wish i could send this letter ahead - an introduction of sorts.  i wish i could announce our visit well before whisking you away from all that you know.  it will be hard.  i have dreamt a few times about what "gotcha day" will look like for us.  trying to prepare myself, i envision you crying, maybe screaming...clinging to the one who brings you to us.  i see fear in your eyes and resistance in your body.  i allow myself to see this because i know it might very well look like that.  anything less will be better.  we will take you any way you come to us that morning. when you can't hold fast to us, we will hold fast to you.  we might even at some point feel like darting out the door in our fraility and fear.  but we won't.   i want to tell you that right now.  we won't. being abandoned once is one too many times for any child.  along the paperwork road we had to submit a letter of application to china.  we received specific instruction on what needed to be written.  one phrase that we had to copy and include was, "we promise to not abandon or abuse this child."   that is all they wanted us to say on the subject.  i found that phrase sorely lacking.  completely insufficient. utterly inept. my wordy self was prepared to write a paragraph, an essay, even a treatise on the fact that we would not abandon or neglect.  i could have written song lyrics and poetry and at least two term papers on our promise. instead, today, i will write this letter.  this letter which no chinese official requires or will ever read.  this letter which you will not read anytime soon.  this letter which i wish to send ahead, but know that instead it must stay and wait for you.  perhaps someday you will have the chance to read some of my words and know how much you were loved even before you arrived.  i would like you to know that...someday.  but today, well, this is just an ordinary day.  i am planning ordinary things. but in the midst of my normal-everyday-stuff, i will think of you.  i will think about how God is working to place you in our home. how He goes before you and how He will come behind us.  a year ago i had no idea we might be anticipating a little girl from china.  a baby sister.  a toddler. a third daughter. a fifth child.  another heart to love. another hand to hold.  another gift to treasure.  and all i can think of on this very ordinary day is ...how very extraordinary.
                                                                                                                  ~  with love, your mom

grand prize winners

i can't promise it is always pleasant to be the recipient of a letter from the United States government.  even if we are anticipating good news the mad dance of butterflies can be felt in our stomach while slicing into the envelope.  similar to when we were beckoned to the principal's office as  middle schoolers.  depending on the colorfulness of our prepubescent years, we may or may not have been able to come up with one offense, but boy did our minds work overtime trying to recall every possible misstep.  through my school years, i was called to mr. borchart's office many times.  only on one or two occasions (if i remember correctly) was it for trouble.  but there was never a time, however, when the mere summons didn't cause some serious nerve racking rumbling and tumbling.  it was about authority. it was about power.  mr. borchart had a firm handle on both.  he had the authority and the power to bring good or bad to my world and there was very little i could do about it...(or so i thought).
this was very much how i felt tearing into our letter from the US government this afternoon.  it was the letter we had been anticipating.  we expected it would hold good news of our immigration approval.  but, there was alway that chance...  that chance we could have messed up.  failed to submit something.  neglected to sign in the correct color ink on the correct line. we had checked our paperwork and rechecked and then rechecked again.   i am a firm believer, however, in operator error.  i like a little wiggle room when i am at task.  i knew early on i was much better suited for a career in horsehoes than one in neuro-surgery.  i could get credit for being close in horseshoes...not so much with brain surgery.  i am especially grateful, however, that we are not all created in this same way.  i really do prefer my airplane pilot and my varicose vein surgeon to have a great love of precision and accuracy. in fact, i count on it.  one of my favorite math concepts, perhaps my only favorite math concept, was rounding or approximating.  i loved that.  "678 is about 700."  that worked great for me.  it works for me even today.  when rick asks me what i spent at target...i just use that favorite math concept and round (down).  it's quite a lovely tool.  he caught on to that trick years ago, though, and now knows that if i say this new lamp cost about $60 ...it was most likely $69 dollars.   as a teacher, i seemed  never to be able to pass out the correct number of papers per row to my students.  i never worried if there were exactly 11 sheets for 11 students.  i realize that sounds quite sloppy.  it reeks of inexactitude.  it drove some of my more analytical students crazy.  but in the middle of discussing macbeth, i would smile sweetly and respond, "this is english class, not math class."  i did try to be a little more careful when averaging their grades come semester's end.  i tried.
so as you can see, i had reason to doubt the content of this letter.  i was also pretty sure that if something had to be redone or resubmitted for the US government  it wasn't going to be a timely thing.  i had no illusions that they would hurry up something for someone that had already messed up.  so, it was with some slightly shaky fingers that i slit the envelope. i carefully unfolded the document and scanned it repeatedly.  it took me about a half hour to decide if it was good or bad news.  seriously.  remember this is a government issued notice.  we receive publisher's clearance house notifications all the time announcing us to be the grand prize winner....the next millionaire!  the bold, glittery, enormous words jump out at us as soon as the paper is extracted from it fold.  those exuberant announcements come printed on slick textured and multi-colored paper...with stickers and holograms and our own names emblazoned upon them: Jody McNatt - you're a winner!  you've won! we've won and we didn't even know we had entered anything to win. crazy. 
so there i sat with my 100% bona-fide-government-official and serious-looking document.  small print. evenly spaced and seriously sedate.  all black and white no nonsense. lots and lots of words and numbers and codes.  i scanned and rescanned the notice attempting to find one phrase that announced us to be winners.  and there it finally was:

You have been approved to adopt one child from the following Convention country: China.

one line in the middle of the paper. one line in a sea of unintelligible government-ese.  i caught my breath.  standing in my kitchen i said out loud,  "this is good. i think this is good." and it was. it was only one more step in a long process.  we are certainly not done.  there is more to do and more approval to anticipate. but at least for today, we won! we have been approved.  we aren't going to be millionaires...but we certainly do feel like grand prize winners.

neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow...

i climbed into my yukon xl with all of its four-wheel- drive-power-and-performance and i braved the roads. treachorous.  hazardous.  perilous.  it was time for sheer courage, will and determination to link arms with a stylish pair of boots and head out. nothing would separate me from getting this next batch of adoption papers to the fed ex office this morning. not even a snow day in atlanta, georgia. not even the guy who literally crept at a snail's pace out of our subdivision.  not even the policeman who had closed the road due to ice and told me to, "go around."  i would happily go around, but i would get there.  nothing would keep me from growing a day closer to adopting bella.  i had no choice but to zip up my coat and dodge southern drivers on my way to the fed ex office. i was crossing my fingers that they would be open and in business.  it was time to trust that old postman's adage, "neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow...."  this morning we woke up to a winter wonderland.  okay, well, maybe that is a bit over the top.  we woke up to a light dusting of snow.  it looks as if some gigantic sky fairy flew above us last night with  fistfuls of powdered sugar.  it sort of looks like my kitchen countertops after the girls have been busy baking.  you get the picture.  we are not talking knee deep.  we are not talking shoveling or snowplows.  we are barely talking boots, and yet, everything in atlanta will close down today.  schools cancelled last night, due to "wintry conditions."   i am certain the lines at our local market were long with fretful southerners clutching bags of bread and cartons of milk.  i have never seen a town hunker down quicker with the waltzing of a few white flakes in the sky.  as a northern girl who lived smack dab in the middle of the chagrin valley snowbelt (by the way, smack dab is an authentic southern term) i am always amused at this hyper-type-reaction to even the chance of a few flurries.  the screeching halt in atlanta is really kind of funny to a girl who (at age 16) drove herself 40 mintues to school with sandbags in her trunk, metal chains on her tires and a younger sister in her passenger seat.  speaking of screeching halt, last night while we were stopped at a major intersection  there was this terrible screeching sound.  it was a mixture of metal grinding and the road squealing...i am sure it had a few curse words mixed in from those closeby.   we heard it well before seeing the tiny white toyota come sliding toward the intersection.  apparently the driver saw the light change and decided to slam on his brakes.  not such a good idea when there are "wintry conditions."  he somehow managed to miss the 400 cars (atlanta traffic)stopped in the intersection.  but i have to say my father's defensive driving lectures replayed in my mind, yet again.

 i began this piece telling you about yet another trip to the fed ex office.  today's purpose was to send most of our adoption dossier to our agency in nashville.   we are still waiting for our immigration clearance, but, in the meantime, all of the dossier papers have to go through a "verification" process.  clearly there are adoption officials with the sole purpose being to find new and creative ways to shuffle papers.  all of the official documents which we have busily collected and have had carefully notartized, now have to travel through another parade of notaries, i.e., verification.  i guess this is a "just to be sure" kind of thing.  it does make me wonder though;  is this process to make sure they are sure or are they testing us to make sure we are sure.  this next step will include checking the county, state, and country levels on all documents.   i really cannot even wrap my mind around what that all entails.  i am just thankful my part in this is only sending the entire bundle off to our agent.  he will take care of the rest.  today it seems to be about trusting that the fed ex system follows the same adage as the post office, "neither rain, nor sleet, nor a (light dusting of) snow".... will keep these papers from nashville.    i drove home thinking about the things which could have kept us from bella grace xue.  there have been so many hurdles.  so many hoops to jump through.  so many planets which have had to align.  i am quite glad we didn't know all of this up front.   God has clearly given us just what we could handle for the moment.  most of all, He has given us the unbelievable, unwavering sense that He is in control of the hurdles, the hoops and the planets.  He is even in control of the wintry conditions. He continues to show us that He is coordinating our union with this little girl in china, just as He perfectly coordinated our coming to Him.  there is nothing, no nothing, that can keep Him from us.  nothing that can keep Him hunkered down. there is nothing which brings Him to a screeching halt.  there is nothing that can separate us from His great love.

 "who shall separate us from the love of Christ?

shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?....no, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. for i am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God..."  ~ romans 8:35-39

now, off to buy myself some milk, bread and a snowplow.

A Long Way

I still claim this whole adoption journey to be the fault of my friend Beverly. She was the one. 

She was the one that brought us the file of a little girl in China named Xue Zhu Zhang.  Beverly, in her most matter of fact, and funny, funny way, dropped her file into the lap of my computer and said, "Well...here she is!"  

Bev is the one that continued to echo the already whisper in my heart, "why not?"   She and her daughter, Neilly, even threatened, "if you don't, we will."  Her friendship and encouragement is as much a God-Thing as is this child we pursue. Beverly is unwavering in her pursuit of life and in her support of us.  She has this spark of humor which truly lightens the heaviness of all the scary stuff that straps itself to adoption. In the past months we have had to process a long list of "what ifs." 

We've had a lot to consider in our pursuit of baby Zuzu. Her serious heart condition, her abandonment, the lack of access to her medical records, her prognosis, the psychological effects of institutionalization, her developmental delays,  her possible limitations.  We had to sit, individually, and watch 8 hours of online Hague Convention training which basically detailed every worse case scenario imaginable. Included in this online training were pages - no volumes - of medical and psychological reading which served to broadcast the message:  This Won't Be Easy. Rick and I have had to fill out pages and pages and pages of paperwork and answer countless questions about these doubts.  We have consulted with many medical professionals.  Some of whom have been encouraging and some who have shared grave concerns.  

We knew from the very beginning Zuzu was not a sure thing. We were even told she "was a risk." We were instructed to, "think of your other children."  We have been reminded that a child with these kinds of medical needs "will change your lifestyle."  We have even been asked, "do you know what you are doing?"  We knew other families were encouraged to decline her file. I write "decline her file" because somehow it seems gentler.  Somehow less harsh to decline a file, than it does a child. What a tremendous responsibility and burden that comes with having to choose.  I know full well that grief, as we slept scant hours over that weekend in July when we had to decide. I know, without a doubt, that these other families did the right thing. They prayerfully followed God's direction.  They had good reason. There is not an ounce of judgment. In fact,  i am so very thankful for their courage.

Okay, so back to Beverly. She's for sure going to give me a good southern tongue lashing when she finds that I have written about her.  But, oh well, I will cross that bridge with her later. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how special is this lady and share the kind of thing she passes along to me every now and then.  She seems to know. She just seems to know when I need a nugget of extra encouragement. I wish I could share with you all of her little anecdotes and messages ---there is a particularly good entry back on July 21st if you want to go in search of it. That Beverly entry has something to do with her singing about birds in the shower! 

Beverly and David adopted their third child, Lilia, from the Ukraine just a couple of years ago. My funny and brave friend left for the Ukraine with money taped to her body and they went in search of this little girl.  She could have used about 10 Beverlys herself to cheer her on. They were there for weeks. It was dismal and dark and beyond depressing. They visited orphanages and had to make quick decisions. Decisions that mattered. Do you ever feel overwhelmed standing in the grocery store deciding what  to bring home for dinner? Imagine standing in a foreign country, in a desolate orphanage, deciding  which child to bring home? I think that is why she does what she does. I know this is why she is a holder of our sometimes trembling hands. This is why she cheers us on through our doubts and hard questions and weariness in the adoption process. She is not only a gift to us, but she is a gift to the daughter we will someday bring home. 

Beverly is an advocate with an ability to connect deeply and beautifully. Earlier today I received this quick note of encouragement from her:

Today Lilia told me that she loved me SO much and paused, and said," YOU came a LONG way to Ukraine just to get me." 

"Yes, I did, and I would do it all again." 

She then put her toy down and ran to hug me.

As I was putting ornaments in a box several hours later, I was enjoying looking at all of the picture ornaments as usual, and it just hit me that little baby Z's face was looking up at me from our family's Christmas box. It just gave me a thrill all over again ... she belongs in someone's boxes of history. 

I just get excited for you guys all of the time. It's such a delight to have one of God's most precious placed into your home.

Can you see why I love this friend so much? Baby Zuzu is a long way from us right now--the other side of the world, in fact.  And yet, my sweet friend helps me to bridge this distance with her delightful anecdotes and her unwavering hope for our little girl. When so many others continue to focus on the what ifs. God has given me a friend who continues to ask why not?  

We have said over and over again this is not the story of the McNatt family.  It is not even the story of a little girl in China named Zuzu. This is the greater story of the 147 million orphans in our world today.  This is the story that is underlining and bold-facing and italicizing the phrase Why Not. Why Not. Why Not.  

Ultimately, this is the story of our God who had to have an awful long list of what ifs about us ... and yet He (without the help of Beverly) said, Why Not.  

And just like Beverly's little daughter, Lilia, said, "YOU came a LONG way ... just to get me." 

He came and He rescued me, us, all of us. 

Note to Beverly:  Before you give me any grief over this. writing ... consider, first, that I could have added photos!:)