4th of July

As I stood next to Arny watching the fireworks down by the Hudson River, I couldn't help but think "next year, we will be watching with our child". Will she like seeing the colorful explosions? She probably never saw them before. Will she be scared? Maybe she will be sitting on Arny's shoulders (he's the tall one). I looked around at the other people. There were families on the grass, finishing up their picnics and watching while the children were running around. Will she be running too? As each holiday passes I think, "next year........."

DTC

That's adoption talk for "Dossier to China". We just heard from our agency confirming ours went on June 24, 2005. It will be translated and then logged into the system at CCAA, the Chinese adoption agency, where it will slowly move from the review room to the matching room..

No one really knows what goes on there, but there are rumors abound. Some say they scan your pictures into a computer and try to match up parents and children that have similar characteristics. I'm not sure if that's true or not, but just to be sure, I refused to send Arny's official passport picture which made him look like a drug crazed serial killer. You see, in addition to the regular pictures (full body shots, picture of "the baby's room", front of apartment building, playgrounds, etc), we had to send two passport sized pictures for use with the documents. I called the agency to see if they had to be official passport pictures. Luckily they didn't. I took some pictures in the apartment where he didn't look drug crazed or killer like and sent those.

The whole picture thing becomes an obsession. You are required to send pictures of you and your home, so the Chinese officials can get a sense of who you are and the kind of environment you live in. For example, you need a picture of where the baby will sleep. Now, if you have a house and an extra room and have already completely furnished the room, which some people have done, the Chinese officials will get a clear sense of the "baby's room". If, like us, you live in a NYC apartment, you have a room, fully furnished with not a stitch of baby furniture and you throw some stuffed animals (taken from work) on the trundle bed and take a picture of that with a caption "the crib will go here". And then you stand there thinking "where am I going to put all this stuff?" Ahhh, the wonders of apartment living!!

Tears

My vision got blurry as she handed me my documents. I left the window and made my way to one of the hard plastic chairs and sat. What is wrong with me? I am about to cry all because some very professional Chinese woman sitting behind a glass partition handed me all of my thirteen documents fully authorized by the Chinese Consulate. It's official. These thirteen documents are what is going to bring me my child. I am that much closer to motherhood. Wow.

"True"

Whoever thought one little word could cause so much angst? True - it's a nice word. Short, easy to spell - a noble word.

Keep in mind that I have a book full of instructions for the mountains of paperwork that has to be collected and everything has to be done just so. One little omission in any one of the many pieces that make up the official "dossier" can cause a delay in an already too long wait for our child. We received the last piece, the I171H, which had to be copied on legal size paper notorized, certified, apostiled and then stamped by the Chinese consulate. Since it is a copy, " This is a true and authentic copy of an original document" must be written on it, before it is signed in front of a notary.

So, early Monday morning I walk to the courthouse, stopping on the way to make my "copy on legal size paper". I walk up to the counter, to the same woman, Michelle, who helped me on Friday and hand her the paper, telling her I need it notorized and certified. She looks at it and says "you have to take off the true". I say "what?". She says " I can't notorize it with the true". "what?".... evil look (from her, not me. Not that I didn't want to give her a dirty look, but she held my notorization in the palm of her hand, so I had to be very, very pleasant)....."But, my agency says that's what has to be on it" She rolls her eyes. As I pull out the extra copy and write " This is an authentic copy of an original document" I am picturing a chinese official somewhere in China rejecting us as parents because "true" isn't there.

Now this may sounds really obsessive, I know because I am reading this thinking, Jennifer, this is really obsessive. But, trust me it's not. After 3 sets of fingerprints, mounds of forms filled out just so, well. It. Is. Not. Obsessive.

dream part 2

Had another dream last night. She was small - maybe 6 months old with a head full of dark, shiny hair. I came into the room and she was lying on a bunch of very soft fluffy sheets that were gathered all around her. She was smiling. She was happy. I woke up. I was smiling. I was happy.

We got the I171H yesterday which means the US immigration department has approved us bringing an orphan into the country. I did my little happy dance when I got the envelope which made Arny smile. Seeing the words "Notice of Favorable Determination Concerning Application for Advance processing of Orphan Petition" and "Your advance processing application has been forwarded to the American Consulate or Embassy at Guangzhou, China (approval for 1 child)" made it real. I am going to be a mom.

We spent the rest of the night discussing names and actually started a list: Alexandra, Amanda and Emily. We won't decide until we get the referral picture. We could after all be referred a boy and while Alexandra could easily be changed to Alexander, Amanda or Emily would cause all sorts of problems.

This is a test

I just figured out how to add a picture...this is cool......

Dreaming

I had my first baby dream last night. She was a tiny little thing with a full head of shiny black hair. Sometimes she was crawling and at other times she was walking and sometimes running. We were on a lush lawn and my mother was with me and we were dealing with the bedding; laying it out on the grass. The bedding was this pretty patchwork pattern that I saw on a baby website that afternoon. I lost sight of the baby at one point and started looking for her. She was running around and then she was in my arms.

At some point in the dream, I started seeing flying insects and then all of a sudden Arny appeared in the dream....to deal with the bugs, of course.

Beginning

I sat.
Waiting.
Waiting for the doctor to see me. As I waited, I looked around at all of the other women.
Waiting.
Waiting for the doctor to solve the problem.
Of fertility.
No one smiled. Everyone sat seriously, waiting to be called.
By the doctor.
To solve the problem.

I knew this waiting room well. I came and waited. Waited for the blood tests to be taken. Waited for the sonogram. Waited for the hormonal levels to be read. Waited for the doctor. I was getting tired of waiting.

All of a sudden, a noise broke the tense silence. I looked up. Everyone looked at the source of the noise. It was a child, about three years old, looking for her mother. "mommy" she cried as she ran to the woman she belonged to.

My heart sank.
Fast.
I would never hear that word.
"mommy"
I died, just a little.
Right there, sitting on the modular sofa.
I died.
"Jennifer" I heard. My name. The doctor was ready. But I was not. I was not ready to hear that I would never hear that word.
"There is a problem" she said, clinically, but compassionately.
"Your levels, they are erratic. You could still try. You could come back (again!!) on day 3 to get your levels checked and we could keep doing this, and......................................................................................................and, and, and...I don't want to hear and!!!!"there are other ways.....drugs, you would have to inject yourself"....No, no, or........................an egg......someone else's egg"...........NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not for me.

As I left the office, I walked. As I walked, I kept thinking, I will never hear that word................
"Mommy, mommy, mommy".............

I will never be a mother.

I thought back to a few nights before when Arny and I had talked. We talked and talked and talked. I wanted a child. I wanted a child with Arny because he is a great father. His kids probably don't recognize it a lot of the time, but I hear how he talks to them. Ha, he actually talks to them. About important things. He explains. He cares. He hates to hear them hurt or upset. He tries to protect them. I want to share that with him. With our child. It was good, talking. He brought it up. Adoption. I hadn't thought about it. I was caught up in the whole pregnancy, "have to have a child to be a mother" motherhood thing. I was actually surprised that he did bring it up, but it hit me.

Right there.

I want to be a mother.

I don't need to "have" a baby to be a mother.

I could hear that word after all.......................mommy, mommy, mommy..........................

and so, it begins...........................................