Shelba

I Feel Free

After receiving the call that we passed our physicals, I finally feel certain that we will become parents. Suddenly, the little dresses I bought last month don't seem like a bad idea. I can look at them without feeling guilty, without worrying that they will have to be packed off and sent to someone that can put them to use.

I am free to walk into the room where our child will sleep and actually think of it as the room where our child will sleep. We can discuss the tiny life vest we will need to buy for her while we wonder if she will like being out on the lake. We can argue over baby names without feeling like frauds.

And she is out there, right now, she is somewhere in China. I don't know if she is growing inside her mother's stomach, or whether she has been born, but she exists. Now I'm free to wonder where she is.

Exhale

Quick update: We passed our physical exams!

I don't have time to post more because I'm off to a notary, to the post office, to find a fax machine, and to buy an accordian file!

Waiting To Exhale

Our physicals and lab work have been checked off our list. Now we wait to hear from the doctor on whether we are healthy enough to become parents. When she calls us to pick up the notarized forms I will exhale. Until then, I'm anxiously holding my breath. She should have my results back by tomorrow or Friday, and Ray's sometime next week.

I did manage to send off our marriage certificate off to the necessary Secretary of State, as well as my birth certificate to Louise, which means that my birth cert. is also on the way to a Secretary of State. We still have to send off for Ray's birth certificate. He has to have a form notarized saying that the birth certificate he is requesting is his own.

We have a lot to do. A. Lot. The list is overwhelming, but I'm attacking it one task at a time.

I Love Louise!

Someone in the state of my birth is an angel, and her name is Louise. Louise has offered to save me a whole step in this paper chase business. Once my birth certificates are county certified, she is going to walk them across the street to the Secretary of State's office for the next round of authentication. If I could hug her, I would.

While I was getting all of the stuff ready to send to Louise, the doorbell rang. It was the Fed-ex man with my marriage certificates! Oh yes! Now, I can send the marriage certs. out to the Maine Secretary of State!

My health evaluation is scheduled for Monday morning. I hope they don't find anything wrong with me. Do you ever feel like things are going too well, and it is time for something bad to happen?

Okay, I'm off to Fed-ex!

The Paper Chase Has Begun

I thought I would get ahead of the game by ordering copies of my birth certificate last month. I found out today that the copies they sent me are not acceptable. I need to send the copies back to Delaware and request a long version with a handwritten signature. And then I need to send it to the Secretary of the State of Delware to have it authenticated. And then I have to send it to another government agency to have the authenticatification authenticated. Then finally, on the Chinese Consulate in D.C. to have all of that authenticated. My birth certificate is going to be exhausted from all the traveling it is going to do.

And I thought I was being clever by ordering copies of my birth certificate ahead of time. Hah!

Sweet Victory

I have known my adorable two year old next door neighbor, A. for as long as she has been alive. I knew her as a bump in her mother's stomach. And until two weeks ago, we were not friends. It has taken two years for her to warm up to me. Two years! But finally, I have won her over.

Her older sister, who is now 3.5, has always been my buddy. Always. Whenever we see eachother outside, she runs to me with open arms. Little A., would hide behind her mother. As an infant, when I would hold her, she would instantly start to cry. So, as she has grown, I have never tried to pick her up, because I knew she didn't want me to. In the past, I would babysit only C., however once when I did try watching both of them, A. cried the entire time.

Lately, A. has been running towards me when she sees me outside, and she talks to me. I don't know what she is saying half of the time, but she talks to me! And she smiles at me! Oh, that smile! And she offered me licks on her popsicle! Oh my gosh! It as though the most popular girl has asked me to be her friend.

Today, I babysat C, A, and their baby brother. A, was fine! No tears. She even asked to sit in my lap and read her a book. And she took my hand to lead me up to her play room. Then tonight, when I peeked over the fence to say hello to her, she laughed when she saw me. She likes me! She likes me, people!

In Need of a Bigger Mailbox

No more adoption manual limbo, I have it!!! Ray checked his e-mail and it was in his in-box. My e-mail box was too full and it bounced. I feel much better now. Much better. Here I was blogging about going nuts waiting for this manual, and it was here. At least it got me to blog.

Adoption Manual Limbo

My adoption high has worn off. I'm no longer a person working towards adoption. I'm a person in limbo, waiting to become a person working towards adoption. I'm a person who until today, was waiting patiently for the adoption manual needed to start working towards adoption. I'm extremely frustrated because we should have had this manual last week, and we can't do a damn thing until we get this thing. I thought maybe yesterday we'd get it, but nothing. Maybe today? I'm not holding my breath.

Our agency is experiencing e-mail problems. Even though I understand the havoc that a helter skelter e-mail system can cause, my patience has lost weight. She is severely malnourished, and damn if my patience isn't hungry. She is this close to leaving me in order to make a trip to the grocery store.

My thinking is that they can print out the manual and send it to us, because not everyone has e-mail, right? They must have clients without e-mail. Or they could put the manual on a disc and mail that to us. Hell, I'll drive the forty minutes to their office to pick it up, and I'll provide the disc.

I am feeling very impatient and grumpy about all of this. Every time I check my e-mail and do not find the adoption manual, a silent yet piercing scream rips through my head...and I tell you, that silent scream is this close to making its way out of my mouth and into the ears of anyone in a seventeen mile radius.

Okay, I am ending this to go check my e-mail. Again.

*I almost hate to post this, because I feel like this is very minor, and really what do I have to complain about? A manual? I should save my frustration for the stuff ahead, but hey, I needed something to blog about.

Wine and Lettuce

Nothing new on the adoption front. We have not received our adoption handbook yet, and no call from the social worker. I'm starting to feel a bit antsy. I'm ready to get the paper chase party started, yo. Mollie cautioned me against scouring every inch of our house for our homestudy, but I can't help it. I've already started. I'm doing a hard-core cleaning that could be updated easily when it is time for the social worker to examine our home.

I have my blood test tomorrow, to check my INR. I have a feeling it is going to be through the roof. I am having a hard time keeping track of how much Vitamin K stuff I eat. The deal with Vitamin K is that it clots your blood. Some people on coumadin completely give up anything with Vitamin K in it, but the nurse doesn't want me to give it up because it is good for me. And I'm a huge gobbler of Vitamin K rich food (leafy grean stuff). The more Vitamin K food I eat, the thicker my blood gets. This is the only sucky result of my surgery, having to figure out how much salad to eat. I guess I could reverse the effects of salads by drinking wine. Alcohol is a blood thinner. And I am supposed to limit my alcohol intake. I will never get drunk again. It is wouldn't be safe.

Some friends asked us to go with them on a wine tasting tour. I declined, because what fun would that be for me? Hanging out with a bunch of people enjoying wine, while I look on wishing I could indulge. No fun. Not for me. Not anymore. Though a glass every now and then won't hurt me. As long as I chomp on a head of lettuce inbetween sips. Hah!!!

Public Service Announcement

My scar itches. OH. MY. GOD. IT. ITCHES. I'm constantly rubbing it, trying to make the itch go away. I feel like a freakin' gorilla. The worst part is the location of this itch, right in the middle of my chest. At the post office today, I was forever scratching this itch. Mothers were covering their small children's eyes so they wouldn't see the gorilla woman scratching inbetween her mammary glands. I mean it is not as though I'm scratching my butt or my girl parts, but I still feel like an ill-mannered pig. In yoga class, the itch returned full-force, screaming to be scratched, so I had to scratch it. I'm sorry, but I can't rest peacefully in mountain pose while I've got an itch more annoying than booger hanging on by a hair.

So, if you see me in public, and it appears as though I'm frantically rubbing my chest, know that I am not a pervert, but rather a rude person with an itch.

Thank you.