I generally get one of two reactions when I tell people that I am adopting.
Reaction One usually involves smiles, congrats, and (in many cases) squealing and wiping away happy tears when I show off Jonah's picture (my boy is cute y'all).
Reaction Two is often a quick glance at my ring finger to see if I'm married. A slight pause. And then (usually) the appropriate smiles, congrats, and squeals of excitement.
But then there was yesterday. Yesterday I got a reaction I've never had before. It went a little something like this...
Other Person: "Is there anything new happening in your life?"
Me: "Yes, actually, I'm adopting a little boy from China."
Other Person: searching for a wedding ring that isn't there and asking: "Are you married"
Me: "No"
Other Person: "What's wrong with you"
(end scene)
My initial reaction was stunned silence, and I really, really wanted to say something obnoxious, and sarcastic, and just plain mean, back to this other person, what I said was "I don't know".
Then I went home and imagined exactly what I would have said if I had a little bit more chutzpah and a little less class.
But seriously, this motherhood, this single motherhood, is something that I am choosing. It's not a second thought, not a reaction to a biological clock, not a desperate cry for attention, and not a result of a relationship that didn't work out. I'm not wearing rose-tinted glasses. I don't imagine that it's going to be easy. But it is a choice. A good choice. My choice.
Being a mother is the only thing that I ever knew for sure that I wanted. Growing up I didn't know what kind of job I wanted (still don't for that matter). I didn't know where I wanted to live. I didn't know what type of car I wanted to drive or what type of house I wanted to live in. What I did know, with absolute certainty, is that I wanted to be a mom.
That I was born to be a mom.
That I was going to be a kick-ass mom.
And no, I'm not married. And yes, lots of people think that's a bad thing. But I'm okay with that. And I'm okay with letting others think that. Because I'm about to make all of my dreams come true.
And as for you, Other Person. Well, you can suck it.
(what can I say, class is overrated)
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Fundraising
The idea of fundraising for an adoption can be a controversial topic. There are people who love it, people who hate it, and both groups are liable to give their opinion whether you want to hear it or not.
People who hate it argue that adopting is the same as giving birth and you don't see any pregnant woman out there fundraising for their impending delivery. Some people think that the idea of fundraising is in poor taste and that you shouldn't even be thinking about adopting if you can't afford it, and anyway you should just work for it you lazy bastard (okay that last part might be a bit off)
But the truth of the matter is that adoption is not the same as giving birth. And, aside from a few lucky individuals who have the means to pay for adoptions outright (I'm looking at you Brangelina), the average family does have to scrimp and save and apply for loans or grants, and fund raise, to make their adoption dreams come true.
Not having given birth myself I can't be sure, but I am fairly certain that the average pregnant woman doesn't have to walk into the delivery room with thousands of dollars in cash (new bills only please) to pass out to each person assisting in the birth. Likewise, the average pregnant woman doesn't have to pay for flights, and hotels, and travel expenses to the hospital. There are no immigration papers to file, fingerprints to be had (over, and over, and over), no translation fees, no courier fees, no agency, fees.
Adoption is just expensive. Stinking expensive.
I am a public school teacher, a profession not known for large salaries (I do it for the kids y'all...also, summer vacation). I also work a part time job, have picked up two different summer teaching positions, have painted rooms, watched dogs, and picked up people's mail when they are out of town. I am not afraid to work, and work hard to make money. But all that still isn't enough. As such I have been, and will be fundraising for my adoption. Not because I want a free handout, not because I don't want to work hard, but because that's what I have to do to bring my son home.
Because I'm a mom. And there is nothing I wouldn't do for that little boy.
People who hate it argue that adopting is the same as giving birth and you don't see any pregnant woman out there fundraising for their impending delivery. Some people think that the idea of fundraising is in poor taste and that you shouldn't even be thinking about adopting if you can't afford it, and anyway you should just work for it you lazy bastard (okay that last part might be a bit off)
But the truth of the matter is that adoption is not the same as giving birth. And, aside from a few lucky individuals who have the means to pay for adoptions outright (I'm looking at you Brangelina), the average family does have to scrimp and save and apply for loans or grants, and fund raise, to make their adoption dreams come true.
Not having given birth myself I can't be sure, but I am fairly certain that the average pregnant woman doesn't have to walk into the delivery room with thousands of dollars in cash (new bills only please) to pass out to each person assisting in the birth. Likewise, the average pregnant woman doesn't have to pay for flights, and hotels, and travel expenses to the hospital. There are no immigration papers to file, fingerprints to be had (over, and over, and over), no translation fees, no courier fees, no agency, fees.
Adoption is just expensive. Stinking expensive.
I am a public school teacher, a profession not known for large salaries (I do it for the kids y'all...also, summer vacation). I also work a part time job, have picked up two different summer teaching positions, have painted rooms, watched dogs, and picked up people's mail when they are out of town. I am not afraid to work, and work hard to make money. But all that still isn't enough. As such I have been, and will be fundraising for my adoption. Not because I want a free handout, not because I don't want to work hard, but because that's what I have to do to bring my son home.
Because I'm a mom. And there is nothing I wouldn't do for that little boy.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Up and Down
The past few weeks have been filled with such a wave of emotions that I feel kind of like I'm riding an insane roller coaster that is simultaneously shoving joy and fear down my throat and I just have to hang on and try not to vomit. It's like the adoption equivalent of gestational diabetes. You know it will stop when you get to bring your child home, but are stuck dealing with it in the mean time. And every adoptive parent I know has felt this so it's not a unique experience, just a new one. I feel like I go from zero to SUPER emotional in less then 60 seconds.
I got PA (happy happy day)
Home study trucking along (Woohoo! Life is great!)
FBI prints still not here (WTH)
Home study not quite finished (annoyed, annoyed, annoyed)
Home study can be finished this week (Woohoo! What was I thinking? Life is amazing!)
Prints still not here (depths of despair)
And I know it will go on, and on, and on right up until Gotcha Day and there is NOTHING I can do about it. In fact, it is only going to get worse. As a control freak I find this disconcerting. As someone who loves my friends and family I'd like to apologize in advance for any wild mood swings that occur over the next 7-9 months. I'd over compensate for it with comfort food but I have to fit comfortably into an airplane seat in the Fall so please feel free to tell me to go away until then.
There is a lot of fear that goes along with adopting. I worry about paperwork getting lost. I worry about attachment (a LOT). I worry about money. I worry about getting everything done in time. I worry about money. I worry about how he will react on Gotcha day. I worry that he will freak out and I won't be able to comfort him (which is a real possibility). I worry about money. I worry about what his room should look like. I worry about bringing him clothes that fit (like he'll care). I worry about natural disasters or Avian Flu delaying the process. I worry about whether or not he will like me. I worry about accidentally drinking unboiled water during travel and having to use a squatty potty. And I worry about money.
That's a lot to worry about.
It's exhausting.
So when it gets to be too much. I step away. I watch a 2 minute video of my little guy running and bouncing and smiling and laughing. And I remember to breathe.
I got PA (happy happy day)
Home study trucking along (Woohoo! Life is great!)
FBI prints still not here (WTH)
Home study not quite finished (annoyed, annoyed, annoyed)
Home study can be finished this week (Woohoo! What was I thinking? Life is amazing!)
Prints still not here (depths of despair)
And I know it will go on, and on, and on right up until Gotcha Day and there is NOTHING I can do about it. In fact, it is only going to get worse. As a control freak I find this disconcerting. As someone who loves my friends and family I'd like to apologize in advance for any wild mood swings that occur over the next 7-9 months. I'd over compensate for it with comfort food but I have to fit comfortably into an airplane seat in the Fall so please feel free to tell me to go away until then.
There is a lot of fear that goes along with adopting. I worry about paperwork getting lost. I worry about attachment (a LOT). I worry about money. I worry about getting everything done in time. I worry about money. I worry about how he will react on Gotcha day. I worry that he will freak out and I won't be able to comfort him (which is a real possibility). I worry about money. I worry about what his room should look like. I worry about bringing him clothes that fit (like he'll care). I worry about natural disasters or Avian Flu delaying the process. I worry about whether or not he will like me. I worry about accidentally drinking unboiled water during travel and having to use a squatty potty. And I worry about money.
That's a lot to worry about.
It's exhausting.
So when it gets to be too much. I step away. I watch a 2 minute video of my little guy running and bouncing and smiling and laughing. And I remember to breathe.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
To China With Love
The journey to adoption is never an easy one and mine has been longer, and more complicated, than some. I started about three years ago when I was sure that I was destined to adopt internationally. I looked at multiple country programs and nearly followed through with one, but I always had reservations. Some small part of me that was unsure of my decision. I finally decided that my hesitation came from my program of choice. After all, my desire to be a mother has never wavered, but I often pictured myself with an infant and in the international adoption world infant placements are not common. Added to that the fact that I would be adopting as a single mother, I was pretty much guaranteed to adopt an older child.
Knowing all of that I decided to enter the world of Domestic adoption. I completed all the paperwork and made my profile book and sent it all of in hopes that a birth mother would see it and pick me....
No one ever did. It sucked. A lot. And every time my profile was shown I would tell myself not to get my hopes up (but I did), and not to think about the child (but I did), and not to dream about the child (but I did).
And every time I was rejected I told myself not to take it personally....but I did. Oh, I did. And I would begin to analyze every picture and word in my profile. And my self-esteem, well it took a flying leap off of the Empire State Building and smeared itself all over the intersection of 5th Avenue and 34th Street. Because those profiles are personal, very, very personal so rejecting it meant rejecting me. There was something they saw in it that made them say no. Was it my clothes, or weight, or hair, or house? I don't know but for two years I watched friends have children and I still didnt and so I was finished. I have this theory that the female psyche can only handle a finite amount of rejection over the course of a lifetime and I had reached mine.
But then my niece turned six, which is significant only in that it opened the doors to China for me as a single woman. And my thoughts turned to Chinese orphanages and little kids with my nieces dark hair and almond eyes. But I didn't say anything. To anyone. For months. Until the beginning of a New Year, and I felt ready to start a new journey. So I started back down the paperwork trail. I started looking for grants to apply for and fundraisers to start.
And I started looking at files. Files of little boys with special needs that didn't seem all that special to me. And one Tuesday night, at 11:30pm, my sister texted me from her bedroom downstairs to tell me there were new kids on my agencys list. And just like that. With the click of a button and a few taps on the ipad I fell straight into the eyes of this boy.
Knowing all of that I decided to enter the world of Domestic adoption. I completed all the paperwork and made my profile book and sent it all of in hopes that a birth mother would see it and pick me....
No one ever did. It sucked. A lot. And every time my profile was shown I would tell myself not to get my hopes up (but I did), and not to think about the child (but I did), and not to dream about the child (but I did).
And every time I was rejected I told myself not to take it personally....but I did. Oh, I did. And I would begin to analyze every picture and word in my profile. And my self-esteem, well it took a flying leap off of the Empire State Building and smeared itself all over the intersection of 5th Avenue and 34th Street. Because those profiles are personal, very, very personal so rejecting it meant rejecting me. There was something they saw in it that made them say no. Was it my clothes, or weight, or hair, or house? I don't know but for two years I watched friends have children and I still didnt and so I was finished. I have this theory that the female psyche can only handle a finite amount of rejection over the course of a lifetime and I had reached mine.
But then my niece turned six, which is significant only in that it opened the doors to China for me as a single woman. And my thoughts turned to Chinese orphanages and little kids with my nieces dark hair and almond eyes. But I didn't say anything. To anyone. For months. Until the beginning of a New Year, and I felt ready to start a new journey. So I started back down the paperwork trail. I started looking for grants to apply for and fundraisers to start.
And I started looking at files. Files of little boys with special needs that didn't seem all that special to me. And one Tuesday night, at 11:30pm, my sister texted me from her bedroom downstairs to tell me there were new kids on my agencys list. And just like that. With the click of a button and a few taps on the ipad I fell straight into the eyes of this boy.
And suddenly it all seemed worth it.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
The Rejection Game
Do you remember middle school gym class and how horrifying it was when two of the super athletic cool kids were chosen as team captains and the rest of the class lined up waiting to be picked?
This, as you can well imagine, never ended well for me. I was neither popular, or athletic. What I was, was short...very short. I was once compared to a wind-up toy.
For this reason I never much cared for gym, and never took it past those dreaded middle school years (in my high school the marching band counted as PE credit...told you I wasn't popular).
I like to think that those middle school gym classes were the beginning of my fear of rejection. And lets face it, no one really likes being rejected. We strive to fit it, to be part of a crowd, to be accepted by those around us. It's the reason why people dress, and act, and talk, the way they do. And lets not pretend like you don't do it too. Everyone wants acceptance.
I'm not saying its a bad thing to want to be accepted. I'm saying that it sucks to be rejected.
The adoption process, at least in my personal experience, is a study in rejection. You spend months getting paperwork together; with background checks, and fingerprints (multiple times which, come on, is stupid), and social work visits, and interviews. Your friends and family write letters of recommendation. You create a self-absorbed (on purpose) scrapbook all about how fantastically awesome you are. And FINALLY you submit everything to the agency and you wait...
and wait...
and wait...
And while each adoption journey, domestic or international, has it's own particular struggles, the wait is universal. And it doesn't matter if you wait 4 months for a birth mother to choose you in a domestic situation, or 36 months to get your match from China, the waiting (while it lasts), seems endless.
In my particular case the wait (9 months and counting) is interrupted with these intense moments of hope. When I match the criteria a birth mother is looking for, and my profile is shown. Let me assure you that the wait, during those moments, is worse then endless. And when the hope dies, I'm still waiting, the short, unpopular kid in gym class, standing on the sidelines while everyone else plays.
It sucks...a lot.
And it's happened five times.
And I really don't want it to happen a 6th.
A girl can only be rejected so many times before she starts to think...maybe it's her.
(also, gym teachers, I really hope you don't let the cool kids pick teams anymore...just sayin)
This, as you can well imagine, never ended well for me. I was neither popular, or athletic. What I was, was short...very short. I was once compared to a wind-up toy.
For this reason I never much cared for gym, and never took it past those dreaded middle school years (in my high school the marching band counted as PE credit...told you I wasn't popular).
I like to think that those middle school gym classes were the beginning of my fear of rejection. And lets face it, no one really likes being rejected. We strive to fit it, to be part of a crowd, to be accepted by those around us. It's the reason why people dress, and act, and talk, the way they do. And lets not pretend like you don't do it too. Everyone wants acceptance.
I'm not saying its a bad thing to want to be accepted. I'm saying that it sucks to be rejected.
The adoption process, at least in my personal experience, is a study in rejection. You spend months getting paperwork together; with background checks, and fingerprints (multiple times which, come on, is stupid), and social work visits, and interviews. Your friends and family write letters of recommendation. You create a self-absorbed (on purpose) scrapbook all about how fantastically awesome you are. And FINALLY you submit everything to the agency and you wait...
and wait...
and wait...
And while each adoption journey, domestic or international, has it's own particular struggles, the wait is universal. And it doesn't matter if you wait 4 months for a birth mother to choose you in a domestic situation, or 36 months to get your match from China, the waiting (while it lasts), seems endless.
In my particular case the wait (9 months and counting) is interrupted with these intense moments of hope. When I match the criteria a birth mother is looking for, and my profile is shown. Let me assure you that the wait, during those moments, is worse then endless. And when the hope dies, I'm still waiting, the short, unpopular kid in gym class, standing on the sidelines while everyone else plays.
It sucks...a lot.
And it's happened five times.
And I really don't want it to happen a 6th.
A girl can only be rejected so many times before she starts to think...maybe it's her.
(also, gym teachers, I really hope you don't let the cool kids pick teams anymore...just sayin)
Monday, August 22, 2011
B-I-G Ideas
The thing about adoption is that it costs money. A LOT of money. And while there are any number of things I worry about on a daily basis (is the puppy going to pee in the house, is that a gray hair on my head, where is the closest exit and how quickly can I get to my niece if the house is suddenly stormed my kidnappers...you know, the usual) there is one thing that takes the worry trophy and that is money.
And I hate that it is money.
Because this house was the right decision. There is space for a baby, work is ridiculously close, the school district is great, and I love it....but the adoption fund took a hit.
And I knew it would.
But, yikes! It was a big hit.
And I've decided that what I need is an IDEA (yes, in all caps). Like and epic harry-potter-meets-twilight-meets-any-other-damn-thing-that-just-popped-into-the-heads-of-their-creators type of idea. Because I every time I think of something I could make, or sell I find 25 of them on Etsy (and way cuter than I could have done), and I don't thinking selling my eggs would work (but don't think I haven't thought of it, or the irony of it), but I know I need something.
I have a second job.
I'm saving a crap-ton of money in this new house since I split everything with my sister.
My gas bill went down to almost nothing since I can see work from my backyard.
But I've done the yard sales, and I have nothing left to sell.
And I've done the budget, and I have nothing more to save.
But if I'm perfectly honest there is one thing that I haven't really done, haven't honestly done and that is pray. I mean for real pray. Specifically pray. Just for what I need. Because honestly, honestly, it works. I know it works. I've seen it work.
And it's just me, my doubts, my worries, my me-ness, that has prevented me from truly believing that I can trust Him with this worry, with this need. Which is ridiculous because I fully trust Him to bring my daughter home. Seriously, that worry never enters my mind because I am absolutely certain that my child will come home when the time is right.
So why is it so hard to believe that He will help me find a way to get the money so that He can bring her home?
(and wow did this post go off in a direction I wasn't expecting, so I give. I'm listening, and I'm praying...and okay, I'm still thinking of BIG ideas but only because I think it would rule to retire and work from home)
And I hate that it is money.
Because this house was the right decision. There is space for a baby, work is ridiculously close, the school district is great, and I love it....but the adoption fund took a hit.
And I knew it would.
But, yikes! It was a big hit.
And I've decided that what I need is an IDEA (yes, in all caps). Like and epic harry-potter-meets-twilight-meets-any-other-damn-thing-that-just-popped-into-the-heads-of-their-creators type of idea. Because I every time I think of something I could make, or sell I find 25 of them on Etsy (and way cuter than I could have done), and I don't thinking selling my eggs would work (but don't think I haven't thought of it, or the irony of it), but I know I need something.
I have a second job.
I'm saving a crap-ton of money in this new house since I split everything with my sister.
My gas bill went down to almost nothing since I can see work from my backyard.
But I've done the yard sales, and I have nothing left to sell.
And I've done the budget, and I have nothing more to save.
But if I'm perfectly honest there is one thing that I haven't really done, haven't honestly done and that is pray. I mean for real pray. Specifically pray. Just for what I need. Because honestly, honestly, it works. I know it works. I've seen it work.
And it's just me, my doubts, my worries, my me-ness, that has prevented me from truly believing that I can trust Him with this worry, with this need. Which is ridiculous because I fully trust Him to bring my daughter home. Seriously, that worry never enters my mind because I am absolutely certain that my child will come home when the time is right.
So why is it so hard to believe that He will help me find a way to get the money so that He can bring her home?
(and wow did this post go off in a direction I wasn't expecting, so I give. I'm listening, and I'm praying...and okay, I'm still thinking of BIG ideas but only because I think it would rule to retire and work from home)
Saturday, August 6, 2011
The Waiting Game
I often imagine that waiting to get THE call from my adoption agency saying that I've been chosen by a birth mother is akin to that 3 minutes you have to wait between peeing on the stick and seeing that little pink line.....times, like, a million!
And in the months since my papers became official at the agency I've only had one of these moments. At the beginning of a 12 hour car ride I got an email about a "situation" (as they call them), asking if I would be interested in the birth mother viewing my profile (Duh). And even though I knew I shouldn't, my mind shifted into overdrive and I had this baby in my arms, in my life, and in my heart almost as soon as I pressed send.
This could be it, this could be my daughter, this stranger on an email could be tied to me forever through adoption.
I told five people about the email. Five people who I knew would keep it close to their hearts. Who wouldn't ask me 15 times a day if I'd heard anything yet. Five people who I consider family, even though three of them technically aren't. Five people who I know will be a part of my daughters life.
And after the longest weekend of my life, I had to tell those five people that I hadn't been chosen. That the little girl who had lived in my imagination wouldn't be coming home to me. That this was not THE call, simply A call.
It sucked
And again I imagine it's like waiting for that line to turn pink, for the test to say yes, for those three minutes to change your life forever.
So while I wait for my turn, for my pink line, for my life to change forever I'll continue my endless dreaming, my imagining, my wondering....and I'll try very, very hard not to pee on any sticks (because I really don't think it'll help).
And in the months since my papers became official at the agency I've only had one of these moments. At the beginning of a 12 hour car ride I got an email about a "situation" (as they call them), asking if I would be interested in the birth mother viewing my profile (Duh). And even though I knew I shouldn't, my mind shifted into overdrive and I had this baby in my arms, in my life, and in my heart almost as soon as I pressed send.
This could be it, this could be my daughter, this stranger on an email could be tied to me forever through adoption.
I told five people about the email. Five people who I knew would keep it close to their hearts. Who wouldn't ask me 15 times a day if I'd heard anything yet. Five people who I consider family, even though three of them technically aren't. Five people who I know will be a part of my daughters life.
And after the longest weekend of my life, I had to tell those five people that I hadn't been chosen. That the little girl who had lived in my imagination wouldn't be coming home to me. That this was not THE call, simply A call.
It sucked
And again I imagine it's like waiting for that line to turn pink, for the test to say yes, for those three minutes to change your life forever.
So while I wait for my turn, for my pink line, for my life to change forever I'll continue my endless dreaming, my imagining, my wondering....and I'll try very, very hard not to pee on any sticks (because I really don't think it'll help).
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Ups and Downs
Sometimes being a grown-up can really suck. Seriously, adults have to make some crappy decisions sometimes and there are moments when I wish I could just ignore things until they go away. Unfortunately that can't happen, so instead I occasionally indulge myself in a box of Lucky Charms to feed my inner child.
I've spent a LOT of time lately thinking about adoption, and money, and adoption, and money, and money, and money, and money which I hate because this is so not about the money. The thing is that I am 100% committed to adopting, but I'm also 100% committed to paying my bills. Which for me, means that the normal 18-24 month wait for this adoption may stretch out an extra year while I work my rear off making extra money. Until some of my bills get paid I cannot, in good faith, take on a loan to pay for this adoption. I would rather work and save for an extra year so that when I'm home with baby I can do things like pay for daycare, and food....
So my painting/babysitting/tutoring/housesitting/etc will continue in full force. I am still having the garage sale (my guest room is filling with stuff, you guys are awesome). I am accepting prayers of all shapes and sizes (the more the merrier)!! And I will keep working, and saving, and paying off debt because I still know that my daughter is out there and that she'll come home when the time is right!
I've spent a LOT of time lately thinking about adoption, and money, and adoption, and money, and money, and money, and money which I hate because this is so not about the money. The thing is that I am 100% committed to adopting, but I'm also 100% committed to paying my bills. Which for me, means that the normal 18-24 month wait for this adoption may stretch out an extra year while I work my rear off making extra money. Until some of my bills get paid I cannot, in good faith, take on a loan to pay for this adoption. I would rather work and save for an extra year so that when I'm home with baby I can do things like pay for daycare, and food....
So my painting/babysitting/tutoring/housesitting/etc will continue in full force. I am still having the garage sale (my guest room is filling with stuff, you guys are awesome). I am accepting prayers of all shapes and sizes (the more the merrier)!! And I will keep working, and saving, and paying off debt because I still know that my daughter is out there and that she'll come home when the time is right!
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Questions and Answers
Well, now that the initial shock of being accepted by the adoption agency (AGCI) has worn off, it's time to get down to the business of answering lots of questions. I've had a lot of the same questions over the past few days so I figured this was the best place to answer most of them!
Why Bulgaria, why now? I have been looking at adoption programs since last year. Every time I would get interested in a program something would happen and I'd decide that it wasn't the right one for me. Then this summer I got the latest edition of the Wittenberg Magazine and found this article on the last page. It was about a documentary that a fellow alumnus made about Bulgarian adoption. As they say, one thing led to another and I found myself looking at a slide show of children who had been adopted from Bulgaria...as I watched it became very clear to me that this was the program for me! And so it began.......
So why the heck didn't you tell me this in person you jerk! I started this process at the end of July and at that point I didn't know if I would even be a eligible to adopt from Bulgaria. In fact, after submitting my pre-application I was asked to submit further information about my medical history. Until I got that phone call last week I honestly didn't know if this would ever happen. Not telling people was hard! But, telling people and then having it fall through would have been even harder!!
So when are you coming home with a baby? Bulgaria only recently reopened to international adoption and their government, and the Minister of Justice in particular, have been doing a wonderful job of improving and stream-lining the process. All that being said, the current time line from application to coming home is 18-24 months. My agency is very quick to say that this is only an estimate, there is always a chance that it could take more or less time. I have plenty of time to get ready and figure out how to pay for it all.
Speaking of money, how are you going to pay for this? The short answer to that question is that I have NO idea! Seriously folks we're talking beg, borrow, and steal (well maybe not steal). I have several grants I can apply for once my home study is done, and am going through Financial Peace University to help me manage my money better! I am going to have to get a loan for part of it, and I'm just going to work my rear off. I've already let the word out that I'm back in the painting/house sitting/babysitting/whatever business. And, I'm going to be doing a lot of praying. While the money part of this is probably the scariest and most overwhelming, I am confident that it'll all work out!
I am sure there are lots more questions out there, and I'm happy to answer all of them. Thanks to everyone for all of their good wishes already. This is a crazy journey I'm embarking on and I'll take all the love and prayers I can get!!!
Why Bulgaria, why now? I have been looking at adoption programs since last year. Every time I would get interested in a program something would happen and I'd decide that it wasn't the right one for me. Then this summer I got the latest edition of the Wittenberg Magazine and found this article on the last page. It was about a documentary that a fellow alumnus made about Bulgarian adoption. As they say, one thing led to another and I found myself looking at a slide show of children who had been adopted from Bulgaria...as I watched it became very clear to me that this was the program for me! And so it began.......
So why the heck didn't you tell me this in person you jerk! I started this process at the end of July and at that point I didn't know if I would even be a eligible to adopt from Bulgaria. In fact, after submitting my pre-application I was asked to submit further information about my medical history. Until I got that phone call last week I honestly didn't know if this would ever happen. Not telling people was hard! But, telling people and then having it fall through would have been even harder!!
So when are you coming home with a baby? Bulgaria only recently reopened to international adoption and their government, and the Minister of Justice in particular, have been doing a wonderful job of improving and stream-lining the process. All that being said, the current time line from application to coming home is 18-24 months. My agency is very quick to say that this is only an estimate, there is always a chance that it could take more or less time. I have plenty of time to get ready and figure out how to pay for it all.
Speaking of money, how are you going to pay for this? The short answer to that question is that I have NO idea! Seriously folks we're talking beg, borrow, and steal (well maybe not steal). I have several grants I can apply for once my home study is done, and am going through Financial Peace University to help me manage my money better! I am going to have to get a loan for part of it, and I'm just going to work my rear off. I've already let the word out that I'm back in the painting/house sitting/babysitting/whatever business. And, I'm going to be doing a lot of praying. While the money part of this is probably the scariest and most overwhelming, I am confident that it'll all work out!
I am sure there are lots more questions out there, and I'm happy to answer all of them. Thanks to everyone for all of their good wishes already. This is a crazy journey I'm embarking on and I'll take all the love and prayers I can get!!!
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