On the Eve of Matching Approval

About a month has gone by and we haven't made any tangible progress, although (I'm hoping) there's someone going through our dossier line by line and preparing our Matching Approval in Hong Kong as I type this. We were hoping Matching Approval would arrive the last week of September or the first week of October. Here we are, October 19th, and still we wait. I've said it before, waiting is HARD. We've been doing plenty to keep ourselves preoccupied, though. Like selling our house. Oh yeah, WE'RE SELLING OUR HOUSE. Sooo many questions have stemmed from that statement, so I'll briefly explain.

It's possible when our little guy comes home that he will need expensive surgery, dental work, glasses, hearing aides, therapies, etc.. Although we could make our money stretch to cover the costs, it just makes so much more sense to us to prepare ourselves financially for that before he comes home. We looked for ways to decrease our monthly expenses, and downsizing our mortgage is the quickest, and possibly the biggest way we can save money every month. I (Michelle) would also like to stay home completely some day (sooner, rather than later), so the choice was pretty easy for us. All of that combined was enough for us to do a marathon paint job and get this baby on the market. So, if you're looking for a 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom house with a 3 car garage and a whole lotta awesomeness, BUY OUR HOUSE!

http://www.weigand.idxco.com/idx/3929/details.php?idxID=075&listingID=373595

As far as the emotional state of the Embry household lately, it's been less than rosy. The excitement of "brother" coming home has worn off for Claire, and she's ready for us to come through on our promise of a new big brother. Telling her we're waiting on paperwork to be completed makes as much sense to her as when I try and explain why she can't have a gallon of pop every day. "I know you said no, mom, but I'm telling you I WANT pop right now". Yeah, sorry sister. Some things are just out of your control. And Matching Approval? Article 5? Out of our control. Completely. 

Derek and I have been trying to keep ourselves busy to take our minds off of something we can't change, but at the end of the day the disappointment remains. I know, I know, I know that this waiting will someday seem like a distant memory and I'll maybe even think "it really wasn't too bad", but I want to redirect my future self to this exact paragraph so I can remember what it does to a momma's heart. It feels almost like grieving. In fact, it feels pretty close to those five stages of grieving I learned about in college. Let's take a look at what adoption waiting/grieving looks like from a psychologists, err.. adoptive mom's point of view. 

1. Denial- "The wait won't be so bad, and besides, it'll give us more time to come up with $25,000". Sorry past self, you can only fundraise so long before you get sick of the child you've prayed for not appearing at the end of that garage sale rainbow. 

2. Anger- The reality of the waiting has set in and everything is annoying. Even if it's really not annoying, it's annoying. You feel like you've done so much hard work and then... NOTHING. No updates, no requests from your agency, no busy work to do.. nothing. Just silence. And waiting. And anger. 

3. Bargaining- Then comes the day you break the silence to your agency. You'd done so well not sending nagging emails asking, "Have you heard anything yet?", but you break. You send one on Tuesday. And then Thursday. And heaven forbid if there is not an update Monday morning by 10 o'clock, you are sending another. Please, can you just see what the hold up is? Have we maybe forgotten something and they're waiting on us? This waiting just can't be normal.

 Except it is.

4. Depression- Once you realize that sending a thousand emails isn't going to change anything, it hits you like a ton of bricks. The only thing that keeps you going is knowing that somewhere on the other side of the world, there's a little boy who has never known what it was like to have his mom and dad miss him every single day. And you can't wait to tell him how much you love him and that you've waited 26 long years to be his mom, even though he's only six years old. 

5. Acceptance- Finally you realize that even if it takes two years, it's still going to happen. And you're closer today than you were yesterday. And the number of days until you hold your son in your arms isn't getting bigger, only smaller. You may want to cry, or yell, or occasionally throw things when no one is around, but it's not going to bring your son home. So you pull yourself together, remember why you are doing this, and acknowledge it is MUCH harder to go six years without a family than it is to wait a year for a son. Because it's not about you, it's about him. It always has been. And that's when it feels like things might be okay.

Under a lamppost. | Reece's Rainbow

One of my favorite things in life is cuddling my babies. There's nothing like chubby arms wrapped around your neck and getting a kiss from the tiniest little lips. It's heaven on earth for this momma; but babies grow so fast. Too fast. I would give anything to see Claire at a year old again. I'd kiss her chubby cheeks and brush that long hair out of her eyes. Please tell me you remember the "hair in the eyes stage". It provided hours of entertainment for Derek and I. Those are absolutely priceless memories I don't want to ever forget. Thanks to modern technology, we don't have to.

I think I got a six pack just from laughing at this photo (the six pack has since packed up and moved on to someone's fridge). 

Tonight I lay in bed cuddling my newest baby, Nora; the one who wrote the book on cuddling. At a year and a half old, she is a tiny firecracker that explodes with love onto everyone around her. Suddenly my eyes are full of tears as I imagine my son at one year old. It is dark outside except for the light above him, as he sits shivering under a lamppost. He waits for someone to find him; to feed him; to cuddle him. For someone to care that he was all alone in this world. 

Nothing will ever make that an easy pill to swallow. I would give anything to go back to that day in time so I could be waiting at that lamppost. I'd tell his birth mom it's okay that she made this choice. I know it was the hardest choice, and one that will forever change her. I'd tell her that I will always be grateful that she gave our son the opportunity to live. I'd tell her that I will never let him forget who she was, and what she did for him. I'd tell her I would go to the ends of the earth for him, that he is the son I have been dreaming of. That I prayed for him, and God helped me find my way to him. That this is all part of God's plan. That He is in control. 

Six years have passed since that day, and a tiny piece of me has died every single day since then. I just never knew that it was only God preparing my heart for what was to come. We are incredibly fortunate that our son lives in a country that really cares about orphans. He has been well fed, his medical needs met, he's been given the opportunity to learn, and he has caregivers who make sure he knows he is loved. But who is there to cuddle my sweet, tiny baby? To hold on to his tiny hands and smell his sweet skin? To tell him, "I love you. GOD loves you. YOU are worth it". To care about the challenges he will face because of that magical extra chromosome? My heart is breaking into a million little pieces as I think of all the days my son went without knowing what it's like to have his momma cuddle him, to watch him sleep, to be made whole just by his presence. It breaks for the memories we will never get to make together because it's too late. Those years are gone. He will never be any younger than he is RIGHT NOW. These feelings are great for encouraging us to fundraise like maniacs so we can bring him home, but in reality they just make me want to hold my babies a little tighter until their brother comes home. 

Summer Staycation

Adoption means no family vacation to the beach, or the mountains, or really anywhere that would require us to stay overnight in a hotel. We call it the "adoption budget" in our house, and nothing escapes it. Although a week at the beach sounds absolutely FANTASTIC right now, we were pleasantly surprised our staycation to Lindsborg, Kansas was also FANTASTIC. It was a quick hours drive from our house and we were done by the time the little ladies had reached the end of their short fuses. I could go on, but I'll just tell you the rest in pictures. Enjoy!


We stopped along the side of the road to check out these horses who were just begging for attention. Ok, maybe that was actually my kids.

This guy thought he'd be hilarious and play charades with us. We totally didn't mind.

 Turns out, he didn't really want to play charades. He just didn't know if he was really a dog or a horse and frankly, didn't care.

 Hilarity ensued.

At one point I think I heard him say "I'm too old for this identity crisis".

 Finally. Success.

 Our first stop on the 2014 Embry Staycation - Coronado Heights

Big sister always has her point and shoot in tow. I can't pretend this doesn't totally make my heart sing!!

The littlest one was quite the fearless explorer.

 Kansas views. Can't beat em.

Cheese mom!

 Aaaaand there it is. Wouldn't be a va(stay)cation without a massive fit!

Taking one last look!

 Lindsborg, KS has possibly the best kids park. Ever. Really. Check it out local moms!

 Love these lovies.

 Derek tried to make small talk with one of the little guys in the background of this picture. He asked if there were any good restaurants in Lindsborg. One of them rattled off several option, ultimately recommending the Sweedish Crown. Derek asked if it were better than McDonald's. His response, "I don't know. My mom's a nutritionist and we've never eaten there". We proceeded to feel like horrible parents the rest of the day.

 This one has a new nickname - "Copperhead" (all credit goes to dad on this one)

We love HAIR in this family!

 Thanks for tuning in, folks. Hope you've enjoyed this staycation as much as we did!

If this were a pregnancy...

We are now in our ninth month of this adoption. If this were a pregnancy, I'd be counting down the days until we headed to the hospital to meet our new bundle of joy. Instead, I'm counting down the MONTHS until we even have approval to go meet our son. Our agency recently told us the next step will take between 3 and 10 months, and there's nothing we need to do besides WAIT. All the while, he will be transferred yet again when school starts this fall. If this were a pregnancy, I'd have the right to say you aren't moving my baby ANYWHERE that I'm not. Instead we're at the mercy of the system and have to sit by idly while he is moved to yet another unfamiliar setting.

I guess it's a mother's instinct that makes me want to hop on a plane right now and just go get him. Forget the red tape and the fundraising and the waiting. I'm just ready to be a mom to this sweet, sweet son of mine. His little sister, Claire, is getting mighty impatient as well (can't imagine where she would have gotten that from). It's getting harder and harder to explain to her three year old self that adoption is hard. It's not like when we went to the hospital and little sister magically appeared, nicely swaddled and already with our last name.

And to think, I thought a c-section was rough?

If this were a pregnancy, no one would question our monthly income. Our ability to be excellent parents. Our square footage. Our charitable giving. Our criminal records. Our religious beliefs. And I'm guessing no one would question our sexuality, either. Not that I'm saying our little man isn't worth ALL of that, it just starts to weigh heavily on a momma's heart when we've been at it this long with nothing to show for it besides a nervous "Things are moving right along" when asked about our adoption. At the beginning of this process, I thought to myself "a longer process means more time to raise the money for the adoption". At this point, I would sell the last thing I owned if it meant I could just go get him. I foolishly underestimated how much of a struggle it would be to know our son is waiting because paperwork takes months, even years, to process. Paperwork. Someone please sign on that magical dotted line so we can start our lives as a family of five. 

I know I may sound bitter. Or ungrateful. Or whiney. But have you ever imagined being pregnant for 18 months straight? I've seen the gotcha day videos on Youtube. I know our day is coming. It's the time between now and then that I'm really struggling with. It's when I'm loving Claire and Nora through a week long flu and wonder who is there to do the same thing for our boy until we can. Some days aren't so bad. Some days I'm filled with excitement and determination. Other days I cry when I think of him facing this big world all alone. But today, I'm just in between, because I have to be. And I'm trying with all my might to not think what it would be like if this were a pregnancy. 

Dossier Submitted

Yesterday we hit another milestone in our adoption journey. We received word from Dillon that our dossier had been SUBMITTED! It feels so, so satisfying to finally say that. Some of you may be wondering what that even means, and the short answer is this- we sent a big ole' stack of papers to Hong Kong to make sure they like us. It means other things, of course, but my adoption fried brain is all out of juice for now.

We also submitted our i800a (Application For Determination of Suitability To Adopt a Child From a Convention Country), which the USCIS has received, and we are waiting for our fingerprinting appointment as of right now. Although we've already been fingerprinted once at the county level (hello Harvey County jail, nice to meet you), we need to be finger-printed again at the USCIS, super official, FBI, Law and Order, Judge Joe Brown level. So basically, does the US government think we're good enough people to adopt?

With all of these governments deciding if we'll make good parents or not, I'm revisiting that issue myself.

Parenthood looks a whole lot different this time around.

We won't be checking in for our scheduled c-section at the hospital less than a mile from our house. Instead, we'll be hopping on a plane and flying 7,789 miles to meet a child who may or may not be happy about our arrival. We've been told T doesn't care much for adults he doesn't know (insert- us).  That's not such a pleasant scenario to imagine, but I do it more often that I should. I picture our first meeting going something like this.

-"Hi, we're you're parents. Nice to meet you." (Insert complete emotional break down here).
-T throws chairs/tables/Cheerios in our general direction. Gives us the evil eye.
-We sink further into the emotional break down already in progress and the orphanage staff escort us out (throwing our dossier at us as we leave).

SEE WHAT THIS PROCESS DOES TO ME?! I'm a worrier by nature, but this is a whole new ball game. I'm still sane enough to know the above scenario (while somewhat possible), is manageable and is probably going to go a hundred times better than I picture it now.

It all comes down to "Are we going to be good parents to this child?". I am going give it to God at this point, because I know he led us here and he won't let us fail our (His) son. I'm going to stick to worrying about things I have control over, like bedding choices. Which, I'm happy to say, have been chosen. Here's a few photos to end this rambling post once again. Thanks for sticking it out with me.

New bed from my recent trip to Ikea in Colorado, and bedding that conveniently arrived from Pottery Barn while I was gone (it's obviously the little things for me)!

-Notice the "Toothless" Build-A-Bear the girls made for their big bro next to the pillow. The sound inside his hand is Claire saying "I love you brother", but it sounds more like "I love you bbbbutter bell". Can't wait to be at the point we can send him a package!

And finally, kuddos to Husband who (without too much complaining) made trips here, there and everywhere so we could get our paperwork sent out on time. This is when we were mailing our i800. Here's to continued progress and interior design!

Love,

M.

Where things stand.

What a whirlwind this adoption thing is.

Three months have passed since my last update, and much to be celebrated has happened since then. We'll start small.

Homestudy is FINALLY complete. Things I learned from the home study process:
1. Social workers are actually NOT members of the KGB. Huh.
2. Clean houses are for people who don't actually live in one.
3. Don't let your 3 year old answer the question "Do you like your sister?"
4. Don't believe everything you read on the internet (still debating the accuracy of this one).

Fundraiser Numero Tres came and went, and left us in a sate of shock. We decided to have a garage sale / bake sale on May 2nd and 3rd. I accidentally opened the garage when I went to pick up the girls from daycare, and when I came back, a mob had descended on our yard. The first night we were open three hours and made $1200. Saturday we were open three and a half hours, and made $1000. People.  Seriously, no words. All we sold were pink baby things and some baked goods that friends and family had donated. We had five tables total. After the first night, I did a mad dash through the house to see what else I could find to put out since we were literally cleaned out the first night. People's generosity blew us away. It was either that, or I know how to put on a mean garage sale (I don't). I was barely able to keep up with the line, but luckily our friends and family are exceptionally awesome, and lent a hand during the craziness. Garage sales are so, so much work, but this one definitely paid off. No regrets here. And who needs sleep, anyway? Or sanity? One moment I hope to never forget is when we were about to close the garage at the end of it all, and an elderly woman pulls up in front of our house and hurries up the driveway. I'm going over how to politely say "I literally can't garage sale for one more garage sale minute" in my head when she asks if we are the family having an adoption fundraiser. I somehow mutter "yes" through my guilty conscience, and she immediately hands me $50. Just like that. She didn't know us, didn't know our story, had no idea if we were worthy or not, but has an amazing heart for adoption and just wanted to help. She later told me she has a daughter who is adopting from China and she knows how hard (and expensive) international adoption can be. While I agree, I'm still blown away that anyone would care enough to help us pay our child's ransom. A child we've never met. A child who waits.

And that child, now has a name and a face.

Due to Hong Kong's privacy laws, we aren't able to share his photo or any other identifying information about him publicly. Here's what I can tell you.

He's obviously a He. He's older than we thought we would feel comfortable adopting, and God absolutely placed him right in front of us. He was tired of us ignoring the little hints, so he brought a special lady into our lives through the wonderful world of Facebook who made it all very clear. Here's the story:

In the summer of 2013 I contacted Reece's Rainbow and asked if they had any children in Hong Kong listed. Soon after, I received an email with the profile of the cutest little guy who apparently loves Mickey Mouse (based on his shirt in EVERY picture). I distinctly remember that day. I was having a gourmet lunch at Taco Bell with my sweet friend Cindy when the email came. I remember reading over his profile and feeling my heart break for him. I couldn't understand why he was still waiting for a family. Being the awesome person she is, Cindy's response was "You have to adopt him". My heart screamed a great big YES!, but my head said no, he's too old and not right for our family. Fast-forward six months. Adoption business kept us extremely busy. We hadn't really been actively looking at any children's profiles. We had looked through the list of children our agency had, and since none of them had Down Syndrome, we decided it would be best if we were matched by the Department of Social Welfare in Hong Kong. We were truly content with that plan, and didn't want to rush things. Trusting God has been vital to this process. We knew He would lead us to our child, wherever they may be. Little did we know, he was busy at work trying to get us to realize what he had already shown us once. We aren't GREAT listeners, yet (work in progress).

I was browsing a group on Facebook for HK adoptive parents on February 17th when I came across a post from someone advocating for a child with DS in HK. She had met this child and loved him enough to help find his mom and dad. It was a short post, but something about it caught my eye. I sent a quick message her, and immediately got a message back. Something told me this was the same child I had seen on Reece's Rainbow the summer before. After a few exchanges back and forth, we figured out it was definitely the same little guy. I immediately heard God saying "It's about time!". I brought all of this up to Derek, and it didn't take long before we were calling and emailing our agency to see what needed to be done for us to be able to commit to him. Unfortunately for us, it wasn't as cut and dry as we had hoped. I remember saying to our adoption coordinator "I've decided NOTHING about adoption is easy". She laughed and assured me it wasn't. But man it's worth it. Lots of behind the scenes action has been taking place, which is allowing us to adopt our sweet boy through Dillon, the agency we have been with since the beginning of this process. We can't speak highly enough about Jan, our coordinator. She truly cares about the kids in Hong Kong and does everything humanly possible to help them come home to their forever families.

We are still so far away from traveling, but we are closer than we were yesterday. We have a picture. A profile. A story. A son. We're "expecting". Someone asked me if it's just as exciting as finding out you are pregnant. Absolutely. Without a doubt. Maybe even MORE exciting, because you have a face and a name, just not a due date. I think we can deal with that. It's only forward moving from here.

Thank you.

We want to say thanks.

Thanks to you, our t-shirt fundraiser has been hugely successful. When we started, I had no idea if we would sell 10 shirts or 100.

We are nearing our 300th order. Blessed would be a good word to describe how we feel right now. And a little flabbergasted. 

Orders have come in from all over the country, and I hear we even have an order headed to Holland. It's pretty darn awesome to think Down Syndrome Awareness is being spread around the world. When you wear your new, completely awesome t-shirt, I hope people ask questions. I hope you can say with conviction that individuals with Down Syndrome are just like you and I. And you're proud to know someone with an extra chromosome. Or you're proud to know a family adopting a child with Down Syndrome. Because Down Syndeome is THAT awesome, that families are willing to cross oceans to make someone with DS a part of their family. Or maybe YOU have Down Syndrome. Spread that joy. Rock that extra chromosome. 

Your t-shirt purchase isn't just helping us bring our babies home from far away lands. It's giving you the opportunity to make Down Syndrome awareness catch on like wildfire (thank you John Mayer) Awareness = Acceptance. Please, when you wear your new shirt, remember that.

And keep calm, it's just an extra chromosome.  

Thank you. 

ETA: To get YOUR shirt, email 321awareness@gmail.com with your order. Shirts are only $12 and will be delivered in time for World Down Syndrome day.

Depraved Indifference

Sitting in a Subway parking lot last year, I felt my heart break. Literally. I felt physical pain in my chest. I couldn't stop from feeling this overwhelming sense of hurt, longing, and certainty all at the same time. Someone was trying to tell me something and I was finally ready to listen.

Once our eyes are open, we cannot pretend we do not know what to do. 

My entire life I've never been asked to do anything by God. Never. I've lived 25 selfish years only asking for God's help when I needed it. Never asking what I could do for him. And never felt an ounce of regret for my ignorance.  Does that sound silly, coming from me? Make you a little uncomfortable, because that's just not who I, Michelle Embry, am? Maybe. That day in a Subway parking lot, God made sure I saw this video. God made sure I knew that THAT day, he was asking something of us. That day, Tyson, our future son, was born in my heart. 

If you have a few minutes, watch this video. It literally changed my life. What was once just an idea in my head was suddenly the very thing I was put on this earth to do. It's the reason I married Derek. It's the reason Claire and Nora are our daughters. It's the reason I'm a nurse. Tyson buddy, we are coming for you. Godspeed little man. 

http://youtu.be/UWHJ6-YhSYQ

Depraved indifference. Now that you've seen, you can't unsee. Am I hoping you'll decide that adoption is for you after watching this video? No. Am I hoping you'll listen to God when he comes knocking? Yes. And he will come knocking. As I've said before, adoption isn't the only way to have a heart for oprhans. Advocate. Donate. Pray. If it moves you, share this story. It was because someone that I knew shared this video with me that my eyes were opened. Maybe this post makes another mom out there consider adoption. Maybe it motivates you to donate. Maybe that donation helps get a family FULLY FUNDED. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe I'm just writing to myself and this story reaches no one. And that's ok. Because I know God is bigger than me. 

And He will come knocking. 

**Just an afterthought. Yes, we are applying to adopt a boy, and we plan to name him Tyson. No, we haven't yet been officially matched and Tyson is just an "idea" in our heads right now. Somehow we are so sure of something that is completey UNsure. That's the funny thing about adoption. It's not up to us.