Posts Tagged ‘ Dad ’

AN ADOPTION JOURNEY

I sit here alone in the morning silence and wonder how much more I would have to wait to get my little girl. The silence is killing me. I want to know anything and something that would trigger my hope and keep this journey less paranoid and more exciting. On June 13th, we finally got matched to an orphanage in India and we learned that our little girl is coming from Kerala. It all seemed too perfect and movie like. We were on a trip to the Caribbean’s and right before turning off our cell phones and emails for the next nine days I checked my email on the flight one last time. “RIPA assigned” the email read and as we opened it in our first “first class” seats ever, I jumped with joy in the seat as my husband tried to make sense of the commotion. It all seemed too perfect- we got first class seats without paying for it and just as we were rejoicing the coincidence of our first “first class” ride, we know about the orphanage our daughter is at. And to top it all off, she lives in the same city my mom is originally from. It all seemed like destiny.

The orphanage match followed with the approval of the I-800A. I-800A is the clearance from the US immigration saying we were fit to be parents and to bring a child as our own to the United States. Our next hurdle was the dossier. For everyone who has never heard of a dossier like me, it is a collection of every document imaginable and pictures that are sent to the orphanage. It represents the both of us to the orphanage. After month and half of squandering through documents, and being picky about every word in the documents we were ready to send our dossier off to India.. I have never nagged anyone as much as I did in the month leading to the dossier submission. I refused to accept a delay in paperwork, and I made phone calls every few hours until they said “the docs are ready”. And then I apologized to clear my conscience. Being a non nagger, this journey has introduced a new talent I possess.

After months of commotion over the dossier, the silence is unnerving. The excitement has turned to paranoia as I wonder many things. We wanted a child as young as possible, and our orphanage told us it was unrealistic. Yet, we stuck to it. As I sit here alone with the morning silence I wonder if maybe I should have been more accommodating. We don’t have a child yet, and we want to be part of every diaper change and droll possible. I wonder if that is too much to ask for as parents.

This journey has been nothing short of amazing. I lost my dad to death almost 19 years back, and that episode changed the course of my life. I can picture the 12 year old me sitting in front of his body wondering a million questions and battling loneliness for the first time ever. I had a mother who loved me, yet his loss made my world turn upside down. I stood there clueless and in some ways cheated and orphaned of his love. Years later as a fourteen year old visiting an orphanage, I realized how lucky I had been. I had memories with my dad for a lifetime and could hold a conversation about him for days. There were children who never knew what a parent was. I connected with them in some ways, and yet I was chosen by God to have two parents for twelve long years- a lot more than all those children in that room had in their young lives. That moment followed with years of shutting the yearning to adopt until finally I realized I was meant to do this. My dad loved children, and maybe it was his voice triggering me to adopt a child. Here I am today waiting to see her face yet feeling love beyond anything I have ever felt. I never knew I could be so consumed with love for someone I did not see or know. As I sit here wondering a million what ifs, I just pray that God hears our plea and brings us something affirmative from the orphanage. A waiting list number would be great- somehow that will ease the anxiety I am feeling in my heart. And as you read this blog, I ask for prayers to help reach our plea to God.

NOSTALGIC SATURDAY!

Next week is a biggie: we have our final homeImagestudy interview with Ms D. She gets to visit our home, and interview my husband and me for one hour each, individually. I feel like we need to sit together and get our facts right- but then again it is not about where did you meet each other sort of thing- it’s the past that is going to serve as a window to the future. 

As we were cleaning our house this Saturday, I found the cassette that had some personal recording from my childhood. Nostalgia engulfed my soul to say the very least. Recently I have been reading about terminally ill parents leaving letters, notes, and pictures for their children before they die so they can know him/her. Every time I read those stories it breaks my heart but at the same time I am glad they are doing something so special. I was that child who lost their parent at an early age. I know first hand how important those letters/notes are to the child. It means holding a piece of your parent forever. Some might argue that you are preventing that child from moving on, but when you loose a parent you never move on. It is an irreplaceable bond! 

Back to my cassette: My dad recorded my childish babbling singing nursery rhymes as a toddler. He knew there would be a time when I would be married and away from him. At that juncture of life he wanted to hear my voice every day since I wouldn’t be around. I refused to sing that specific day, and so my dad spoke in the recording guiding me through it. Fast forward to 1995, I had just lost my dad to death and before that day I never cared much about this cassette. One evening as I was coping with my broken heart, I stumbled upon this cassette and started listening to it. It never said it had our voice… as I listened I heard him call me by my nickname, and I melted. It was a surprise least expected and something that I needed to just survive each day. I did not cry- instead it felt soothing to my soul. When he died, I never imagined I would ever hear his voice again. To this day, when I am alone I think back to my dad, wondering what it felt like to sit near him, to see him smile. Those moments are long gone and with each passing day those feelings disappear little by little. It’s hard to recreate a hug without the other person being there. I am glad his voice is captured to remind me of the only man I have loved without any inhibition, and who never hurt me with even a sound. I have carried this cassette from India to America- through apartments and homes. It is by far the most precious thing in my house. 

Yesterday as I heard it again in a long time, I felt calm again. I was not in the sunniest of moods yesterday. His voice let me know that everything would be ok. I sat there fighting my tears, rewinding the cassette over and over to hear him call me by my nickname again- a name that only he called me by, a name that had years of memories wrapped in four alphabets.  When he was recording that cassette, little did he know that it would be his daughter and not him who would be listening to it years later- hoping to relive the warmth of his voice again. I am glad my dad recorded this cassette—very few children have this luxury that I do. To hear their deceased parent for life, especially when their heart just stops without a warning, with no time to prepare and say good-bye.