Hairspray
Somewhere there is a manual for hair stylists that says “Make sure to ask your female clients if they have children within the first five minutes of them sitting down in your chair.” I’ve never had a female stylist NOT do this and Wednesday when, with more than a bit of trepidation, I tried a new salon who were running a great color/cut special, wouldn’t you know it happened again.
Now said stylist will probably not become my new steady. Aside from her somehow determining that when I said (and showed her the swatch) that I want to stay in the red pallet that I meant PINK (I’m still waiting to see if I can get enough of the tint out to show up to my work convention and NOT get fired or if I have to go have it “neutralized”), and aside from the fact that she’s one of those stylists that pulls your hair so hard that it aches for days, I REALLY hate the “kids” question.
Now that we’re on the path – or close to it – to adoption, the question doesn’t hurt the way it used to. And I’m happy to openly discuss our plans to adoption, which makes it easier. But in honesty, there is a tiny part of me that almost rejoices in trying to give an answer that might make the person asking the question ever so uncomfortable. Maybe they’ll think next time before they ask something that might be so personal and delicate.
In the past, I’ve had stylists who responded to my squeaked out “No, I don’t have kids” with a further question: “Why, don’t you want them?” And I wimped out of being completed honest and always gave some fumbled sort of “No, we’ve been trying” type of answer when I’ve really wanted to give them the whole painful story just so that they get a clue and learn that next time, it might not be the way to approach things.
The flip side of this is my new endocrinologist. I had no problem telling him about our infertility woes because it turns out that my thyroid issue might be the cause of it all in the first place (and there is a special place in purgatory for all of the doctors that I BEGGED to look into what I was sure were thyroid issues, who told me not to worry about it). But he is now convinced that he is giving me the magic baby pill. Even though I keep telling him that at 44 I’ve had to let go of my dreams of a biological child with or without a thyroid wonder drug.
But he doesn’t want to hear that. When I called to get the results from my first round of bloodwork since I started taking these, the nurse said that my results were now “perfect” and “oh, the doctor said to let us know if you get pregnant so that we can alter your meds.” Yes, miracles do happen. But at this point, my idea of a miracle is heading to my convention without pink hair and finding out that we’ve sent all of the proper (signed this time) paperwork to USCIS!
Falling into Fall
At some point in Mid-November, I’ll be caught up. Getting ready for a work convention basically ate up the end of summer and suddenly, it’s fall and I didn’t even realize it until I took the dog out one day and everything crunched.
The convention is now less than 2 weeks away. I return to a week off to recuperate (which I’ll need) during which I plan to shovel a bunch of stuff off my things to do list: redesign this blog, sort through and scan photos, delete things from my computer that I have in triplicate and no longer need anyhow, remind the social security administration that I WAS working and paying US taxes during the four years I lived in the UK, thank you very much.
And then there is our dossier. The good news is that I did manage to get our I-800A sent off with all of the (many) appropriate, notarized attachments. The bad news is that after micromanaging those attachments and making sure that hubby signed in the 14 appropriate places, it was returned to us. I’D forgotten to sign it. Yup – my brain is a little full these days. Grrr…. anyhow, my big hope that USCIS read the entire document and that was the only thing missing. I fear though that they got to that page, noticed the missing signature and just popped it back into the mail to me with a “ha! ha! how can you hope to adopt a child when you can’t even sign on all of the dotted lines?” letter. Honestly, I’m surprised that I didn’t mail them our grocery list and a Target bill instead of the proper paperword. THAT’S how crazy things have been.
Anyhow, we’re also plowing through the rest of the dossier materials. Where possible without leaving my computer so that I can avoid missing work emails, I’ve printed, copied, and filled out what I can. The rest will have to wait until I get back. We’re a bit on hold until we get the USCIS approval anyhow.
I realize that for those who aren’t as jaded by the process as we’re quickly becoming, it might seem unfathomable that we’ve been into this process for six months already and aren’t officially registered to adopt a child from Bulgaria. We might be signed on with the agency and in possession of a finalized and approved home study, but that means that we’re only half-way through the mountain of bureaucracy that will get us to the point of having our entire dossier translated and sent to the Ministry of Justice in Bulgaria.
It almost makes me long for a follistim shot. Or not.
On the magic day that I actually find myself with enough time to finish a thought, I’ll try to write up some overviews of the whole process and the changes that are being made in the Bulgarian adoption system (which should be VERY positive changes). I really do intend to get to this! So please, bear with me! 
Possession
No, not that sort – with the green pea, head-turning, speaking in tongues (although I admit sometimes being able to lose it THAT much sounds like relief)….but the 9/10th of the law type.
We are now in physical possession of our finalized and notarized home study (YAY!). I picked it up Friday and I think that our SW was even more relieved to get rid of it than I was to retrieve it. She talked a lot about how this is a milestone, etc….and yes, she’s probably right. If I didn’t have this mountain of dossier and I-800A materials on my desk at the moment, it would be easier to celebrate but yes, I suppose it is.
In an immediate sense it means we can now submit our I-800A. Once I have it completed. I’m close to it and then we need to have it notarized. But I keep hearing that the USCIS is kicking things back at an alarming rate – everyone, it seems, has something wrong with their forms (could it be, perhaps, that their incompressible directions are…incomprehensible? And this from someone who has navigated two legal immigrations). And I fear that what will be sent back are some UK documents that are going to be near to impossible to get verification of.
But I did let her message sink in. And on the way home I detoured and allowed myself to do something that I haven’t been able to do in years: walk through the children’s clothing section of a store. It was actually difficult to put one foot in front of the other. My M.O. over the past few decades has been to circumvent all areas of children’s shopping so forcing myself to wade into it was a bit bizarre.
But once I was in, it was like getting used to being in a cold pool. Uncomfortable but warming up. I knew that I didn’t want to spend a lot of money on something – the purchase was more emotional than practical. Still, when looking at sizes, I had to think that we’ve requested a girl up to the age of 4 but children coming from orphanages tend to be small for their ages. I went with a 4T though because kids will always grow into things. The first thing my eyes fell on was a dusty rose knit dress. It was absolutely adorable but….what if we bring the child home in summer? The dress looked awfully hot. And so I passed on it and settled on a legging set: the top in brown with pink hearts and a hood (I love hoods) and the leggings in a leopard print pattern using pink hearts (okay, I know I’m not doing a great job of describing it here).
It’s hung in the back of my closet where, even in the best of cases, it will stay for a long time. But I know that it’s there. And it represents hope in a more tangible way than anything has since our first positive pregnancy tests. It’s at least a step down the road.
What’s in a name?
I’ve been mulling over a post about “naming” in response to Mel’s excellent post here (if you haven’t read it yet, I strongly urge you to) about the English, Hebrew, and “secret” names that she’s given her children.
Like most American Jews, I was given both an English first and middle name and their equivalents in Hebrew. I’ve had a life-long love/hate relationship with my English first name. It’s not terribly common although there is a more common French equivalent. My middle name is far more common but not overly used and as a kid, when all of my friends were getting pencils, bookmarks, room plaques, and just about everything else with their names on them, I really wished I could swap my names around.
Now though I’m glad that I didn’t. In some ways having a name that is more unusual has suited and shaped me and hey, now its possible to have anything printed
My Hebrew names have gotten very little use. I’m not overly thrilled with either one of them and they get stuck in your throat when you say them together.
While hubby and I have had a much easier time of agreeing on most of the adoption questions that have come up than I would have expected, we’re a bit at odds on the issue of naming (well, the discussion has been tabled for the moment).
We are adopting from Bulgaria where the names are very long and highly identifiable as Eastern European. Having grown up with an uncommon name, I know how cruel kids can be. I also know how much trouble even adults have in dealing with names they don’t know. Also, the Jewish tradition of naming children after dear and departed relatives is something that deeply matters to me. I have a number of relations who will never have their names carried on unless my children are gifted with them (or some variation of them).
To add to the issue, hubby is Scottish. I have a freelance career that is Irish in nature. We both have a strong desire to stay within the Celtic realm. Also, I’ve also read articles about the ramifications of renaming adopted children. Done at the beginning, it can give the child a true sense of “new start” and also help them fit in better with their peers and extended family than an unpronounceable name would.
Certainly we have a lot to talk about. Ideally, we’ll have a list of names that we both approve of and then, once we have a referral, we can see if any of those names come close to the child’s birth names. But I’m also hoping that we can come to a meeting of the minds on this one and give our child a name as we would have given a birth child a name. Something that carries meaning for both of us and that we’re both on board with. And of course, eventually our child will have Hebrew names as well and hopefully they’ll like them more than I like mine.
Does anyone know a Bulgarian-Celtic-Jewish name??????
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Just for a quick update it sounds like our home study will FINALLY be done next week and in our hands shortly after which will allow us to file our I-800A.
We now have our dossier instructions and forms in-hand and if I thought that immigration or the home study involved a lot of confusing paperwork, I had no idea. I’ll write more on the crazy types of things that we’re having to compile, have notarized and then appostiled (verified by our local Secretary of State) before it can be sent off. I’d initially thought that this could be done by mid-January but now…..well, we’ll just have to see!
Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen
It’s sometimes great to feel like you’ve got a large support system working for you and many people pulling for you. Then th
ere’s today! No, no, we’re grateful for the support of friends and family all. And I have to say that we’re lucky to be one of the few couples that I know of anyhow, to receive only positive comments from friends and family about our plans so THANKS!
That beings said…I can not WAIT until we’re completely done with our home study agency (okay, we won’t be “done” for about a decade as there are post-placement reports, etc….but that bridge is so far away that I’m not even thinking of crossing it at the moment).
Today’s drama consisted of an email from our SW with a form attached that was sent to her by our placing agency. The form, which has to be notarized, is meant to be filled out…not by us…buy by the friends that we specified as “guardians” should anything, you know, happen to us. The choice of guardianship kinda happened as a spur of the moment thing. We figured that we’d get a child home and then have to write wills and would sort it out then. But one of my best friends inserted something into her letter of support about being the guardians (which was pretty darn inspired), hubby and I had a short (very short) conversation about it and then we said “yup! works for us and we can still sort it out later if we need to”.
Anyhow the form needs to be filled out by said friend and her husband (who I’m not even sure knows about all of this). And notarized. Hmm….she’s starting a new job next week and he has a 2-hour commute to work. When’s that notary thing going to happen I’m wondering????
So I wrote to both the SW (who couldn’t care less about the form anyhow) and the placing agency (who needs the form but really wants this all to get a move-on) numerous times and in various combinations. We now have a consensus that our home study can be finalized without said form that we can file our agency agreement paperwork and start work on our dossier and the dreaded I-800 while waiting for this form.
I sense that this is only a glimpse into what the next few months is going to be like…..
Other than all of this, life continues on (thankfully) and work continues to be a complete pain in the lead-up to our biennial convention this fall. I did get a thank you note from my boss today, which is one of the things that makes working there a good thing. I don’t need the thanks but, hey, its sometimes nice to hear that you’re doing a good job. And our two weeks of Phase one of South Beach diet are thankfully coming to an end. I’m not sure which of the phase 2 additions I’m looking forward to more: fruit, red wine, BREAD (okay, whole wheat but still….). At least I lived through the french fry craving I had last night at around midnight that almost had me in the car and heading to McD’s. Thankfully hubby parked me in and his Jeep scares me after dark!
