Can You Tell Me How to Get to Sesame Street?

No.  After all these years, I still can't.

But I CAN tell you where to find all Brooklyn updates for the near future...come on over HERE.

We are THRILLED to be partnering with COTA, and during that partnership, all things Brooklyn will be over there and all things Brooklyn-free will be over here.  (You'll see a little Rhet in both places--and if you know Rhet in person, you know she is usually all over the place.)

(Yeah, I know.  Cya never, right?)  ;)

I do love writing and musing and sharing things I like.  That will all still happen here.

Until next time...

The 12 Weeks of Summer (Otherwise Known as: The Summer Everything and Nothing Changed)

By the 12th week of summer, my true love gave to me:

One new old house in midtown

Two AC unit repairs (including a brand new unit for one of them!)

Three fridge failures (still working on resolving that one--but it's under warranty!  Whew!)

Four family members heading to Chicago for a fake vacation this coming weekend/week.  (Brooklyn's next GI clinic checkup is next week, and since we haven't been able to stray too far from Chicago or out of phone range this summer in the event that we might get the call we've been waiting for, we figured if you can't beat 'em, join 'em...)

Five years old and ready to start Kindergarten in eleven days--that's Rhet!

And a partridge in a pear tree...and by partridge, I mean Brooklyn...and by pear tree, I mean a new diagnosis.

I'll expand on that one...
(And it's going to be long, sorry about that.  I owe you a long post!)

Back in May, Brooklyn and I made a quick 24-hr trip to Chicago for her GI clinic checkup.  While we we were there, they took labs, checked her out, and issued her a new PELD score.  To refresh your memory, the PELD score stands for Pediatric End-Stage Liver Disease.  The transplant list isn't a "waiting list" where the person at the top of the list gets a liver and you move up in line and take your turn.  Instead, your PELD score ranks your "priority."  The higher the number (up to 40), the higher your priority over lower numbers.  There are more factors involved when a liver becomes available, such as your blood type or whether the liver is a good "match" for your body, but the PELD gives you first dibs.  We've been on the list for 6 months, sittin pretty in the lower middle.  Someone could be listed today and jump to the top.  It all depends on your PELD score.

Brooklyn started out in February with a PELD of 13.  Her bilirubin (one of the numbers involved in determining her PELD score) had risen by the time we came in March/April for her hernia surgery--it had been steadily, almost rapidly rising at times since we had seen her first labs back in October.  Then, something strange happened in May.  For the first time, her bilirubin had dropped.  It was enough to make her PELD score drop, although the change wasn't significant.  They gave her a new PELD score of 12.

(They are required to re-PELD every 3 months.  We get labs done every 6 weeks--if the numbers are significantly worse, they will request a new ["better"/worse] PELD score.  If the labs numbers are the same or better, they just wait it out until they get worse or until they are required to re-score.)

So I came home in May a little bummed.  Why had we rushed with all that lightning speed back in the fall only to be sitting around six months later, stable and waiting?  Liver failure is so weird.  Compared to you or me, Brooklyn is a very sick little girl.  Compared to other kiddos in liver failure, she's not sick enough to take top priority.  It feels so strange to be hoping for a "better"/worse score.  Like, if she's going to be very sick, let's be very very sick really quickly for as short a time as possible so that she can get her transplant and be healed!  I know, this transplant world is so weird.

The doctors had also talked to me about something else.  They were questioning her biliary atresia diagnosis.  They wanted to take extra labs to do some genetic testing for a rare condition called Alagille Syndrome.  When they had done a CT scan immediately after her hernia surgery, they had found some abnormalities that had peaked their interest.  They would send in the genetic test and wait for the results--if it came back positive, that gave some answers.  If it came back negative, it didn't necessarily rule out the new diagnosis--the genetic test only tested certain markers.

I felt fear and discouragement when we arrived home in Memphis...what if this changed everything?  What if a whole new can of worms or just a new can of uncertainty was opening?  And Googling Alagille Syndrome (which is what every smart person should do when faced with a new diagnosis, right?) only made me feel worse.  Biliary atresia is congenital, meaning Brooklyn was born with it--it wasn't passed on to her and she wouldn't pass it on.  But Alagille Syndrome is a genetic disease...it would change the story about what had been and what will be...

A week later, Rhet finished up preschool, we moved to our new house, and we had plenty on our minds to keep us busy for awhile.  (Including Brooklyn's 6-month post-placement report...can you believe she has been home for HALF A YEAR?!  I am in awe.  And 2015 is and always will be a blur.)

In July, the results of the test came back.  Brooklyn tested positive for Alagille Syndrome.  They were officially dropping biliary atresia from her diagnosis and changing it to ALGS.

It changed everything, but it also changed nothing.

Alagille Syndrome can include other complications--some children's symptoms are so severe that they are inoperable or need multiple organ transplants.  Because Brooklyn had already received a heart echo, an abdominal ultrasound, and a CT scan as part of her transplant evaluation, the doctors had already determined that she had no additional complications.  Her kidneys and heart look fine, and this condition is not degenerative, meaning these complications won't arise later in life.  Her symptoms/presentation for ALGS include: some narrowing in her vascular system (not enough to cause heart complications), a few of her vertebrae are butterfly-shaped (super weird, but that is one of the symptoms), she has a broad forehead and triangular face shape (common in ALGS patients), she is small for her age (we had always attributed this to liver failure, but because she has ALGS, she will probably always be teeny tiny for her age), and of course, the bile flow in her liver is decreased/blocked.  The only symptom needing correction is the liver failure, which can be fixed with transplantation.

So, things are different, but not really.  She has a new diagnosis, but her current condition of health, the way they'll monitor it, and the way to fix it are essentially all the same.  It was all earth-moving and anticlimactic at the same time, if that makes sense.

The Alagille diagnosis clicked a puzzle piece in place.  We may never have known if she had biliary atresia--her liver is too damaged to tell with a biopsy or during transplant at this point.  But with a positive genetic test result, that mystery has been solved.  We know definitively what has caused the liver failure.  And we also know why we're sitting around in July without the same rate of rapid decline that was happening October - February.  Alagille Syndrome patients have no anticipated rhythm or pattern to their liver failure.  While biliary atresia patients tend to decline steadily and/or rapidly at different times, ALGS patients can plateau, decline steadily, plateau, decline rapidly, etc all at varying times and speeds.  This plateau that Brooklyn seemed to have hit this past spring was just that.  And it explains why she had seemed to be declining so rapidly in the fall--because she was.  She is still in liver failure and still needs a transplant, but her decline has transitioned into a period of stability for an unknown length of time.  (It won't be years, though--her body wouldn't be able to sustain that--it will be more like an unknown period of months.)  At some point, the decline will pick up again...steadily or rapidly, we can only wait and see.

So, that's the latest.  And we're about to have more of the latest after our next GI clinic next Tuesday.

Please pray for our family as we continue to deal with change and transition in many areas.

Pray for our trip to Chicago, that we can experience sweet time together as a family--we are really thirsting for some happy memories to be made with all four of us together.

Pray for Rhet's first day of Kindergarten!  I want her to feel brave and joyful and confident.  Actually, I want to feel that way too.  ;)

Pray for Brooklyn's liver...and for her new liver, however and whenever we will receive it.  It is a terrible thing to be waiting on that life-saving gift.  Honestly, I have trouble wrapping my mind around it and have to push that part away from my thoughts most days.

Pray for God to prepare our hearts and schedules and finances and physical endurance/health for liver transplant time, whenever it will be.

And thank you, friends.  We couldn't do this life without you.  We have chosen to follow the Lord in faith, and you have lifted us up and encouraged us every step of the way, even as we've felt tired and discouraged.  God is for us!  He is with us!  And He is using you to remind us...

How You Can Be Awesome Today...

We've been making lists of what we need to do the second we get "the call."  And I finally read the "Liver Transplantation" guide given to us at the hospital--a medium-sized booklet full of info of the before's and after's of this new normal we're living in.  Oh man, do we have a lot of plates spinning right now, and while I'm eager for Brooklyn's health to be fully restored, I'm also able to be thankful on the days we don't get that call, because there's lots of TCB (taking care of business) to be done.

One of those pieces of business to be TC-ed is rallying our prayer warriors and sucker-punching the Enemy's attack.  Here's where you come in...

Would you commit to praying a verse of Scripture over us every day for 30 days starting with the day we receive "the call?"

1. Use an index cards or cut a regular sheet of paper in half (nothing larger please).
2. Write/type/paint/doodle/chicken scratch your committed verse onto both pieces of paper/cardstock.
3. Mail it to us in Chicago:

Brooklyn Faris

c/o April Clark

3539 W. Carroll Ave #2

Chicago, IL 60624

The verse can be primarily for/about Brooklyn (her health, her surgery, her life) or primarily for/about Nick & me (our family, fear & courage, strength, faith).  Whatever it is, when we say "Go!" you pray that verse over us every day for 30 days.  Write it on your calendar or set an alert in your phone.  And we will post your verse in Brooklyn's hospital room as a banner of prayer and protection and encouragement over our family.

We need this, friends.  God's hand through your prayers and encouragement have carried us through.  We know we can choose faith and courage over despair when you're standing with us.

Go ahead and send your verse NOW, because we have no idea when that call will come (it could be...now!  Or...now!  Well, I guess not, but it could also be...now!)  ;)  and we want your Scripture prayers to have gone before us, ready and waiting.

Feel free to send this to anyone and everyone--strangers-turned-new-friends are our favorite kinds of friends!  And thank you in advance.  You guys are clutch.  

Telling the Story to Ourselves

I feel sad and overwhelmed today as the sunshine streams through my window on this pretty spring day.  And that's the way it is sometimes.

We'd like to think change is just good and not accompanied with stress and exhaustion and regression.  That healing is only triumph and will erase all trauma.  That progress means that you'll never get stuck again.  That you won't feel gloomy anymore once the sun is shining again.  

Last spring, we went through an intensive training program in order to become certified to teach a set of parenting strategies that we feel passionate about to others.  The program is called "Empowered to Connect," (ETC) and it was developed to support parents & caregivers of children "from hard places."  That phrase "from hard places," gets thrown around a lot as a popular phrase in adoption circles now, but in essence, it refers to a child who has experienced trauma of any form.  (That can include children who were involved in high risk/high stress pregnancies/births, spent time in the NICU/hospital, experienced childhood illnesses, or experienced any kind of traumatic event in their life.  That includes many more children than those who came to their families through adoption!)

We have loved and used this material since it was first presented to us when we were preparing to become adoptive parents.  We've read Dr. Karyn Purvis's book, "The Connected Child," multiple times, attended the Empowered to Connect Conference, participated in both the pre-adoptive ETC course as well as the post-adoptive parent Connect course, and then we were trained to be trainers.  We have had lots and lots and lots of practice with this material over the last six years.

And yet, I felt a heaviness yesterday as I attended a simulcast here in Memphis of the annual ETC conference.  No matter how much training I've received, how many books I've read, how many seminars I use to remind myself of the principals that promote connection and healing with my children...it's still really hard.  It's HARD.  Because trauma and pain and feelings and growing and BEING A PERSON is hard.  For everyone.

We've had a big year.  We're having a big year.  I joked the other day (in the context of forgetting to take a family picture on Easter) that "I don't do 2015."  So many plates are spinning and they're overwhelming and complex, and everything else has been pared down to the bare bones.  I didn't do my "12 Days of Christmas" this year or put ornaments on the tree or travel for New Year's or make Nick's chocolate peanut butter layer cake or compile Rhet's annual birthday video or do anything out of the ordinary for our 9th anniversary or hide eggs to hunt in the back yard.  We are keeping it so so SO simple.

And we're all feeling it, those big changes.  I've been honest with friends about how we're dealing with transition and regression with our kiddos.  But it struck me yesterday as I tried to hold the guilt and shame at bay while listening to experts talk about these parenting principles and values that I feel so passionate about...WE'VE regressed too.  Stress just does that.  It knocks you off your feet...pushes you back a couple steps.  I'm not peeing in my pants, but I might as well be...because I sure am regressing back to that yelling voice and angry eyes and lecture, lecture, lecturing...and so much despair that what I'm doing doesn't matter, that it's not making a difference, that I'm just spinning my wheels...

This is why the story matters.  This is why His Story matters.  We struggle to connect and and we repair our mistakes and we do our best, and then we do it all again the next day.  And through that mess, He is healing, restoring, redeeming.  WE are the WEAK ONES.  He is the strength.  We lose sight of the progress, and we feel like everything is sliding backwards, but He is writing the story.  And when we tell it, we see where we've come from and how we got here.

This whole time I've been thinking, "I need to tell them Brooklyn's story.  I need to tell them how God is at work in the world and in her life.  I need to tell them for His glory.  I need to tell them to strengthen their hearts and faith."  But this whole time...I've needed it.  I've been telling the story to myself.

He is not finished.  There is more to come.  And some of it will be so freaking hard.  And some if will be blindingly glorious.  But I'm going to keep telling this story...her story...His Story...to myself.  Because it's just what I need to keep doing this today. 

Those Sweet Cheeks

I'm interrupting the crazy stories of how God worked to write a little "everyday" post of what life is like on a daily basis with sweet B.  Hoping I can satisfy some curiosity as well as educate a little on how best to pray for us and treat Brooklyn when you see us out and about.

First, I can't remember if I ever told you what "biliary atresia" is!  So for those of you who haven't asked Google yet, my most simple explanation is this: Everyone has ducts that lead from the liver to the small intestine.  The liver produces bile, and the ducts remove it from the liver and dump it into the small intestine.  This is what makes your poop brown.  (Gross, I know, but now you have your fun poop fact for the day!  I know you needed one of those, right?)  A person with biliary atresia (BILL-ee-airy uh-TREE-shuh) was born with ducts that are blocked, so the bile can't make it out of the liver.  Bile is toxic and causes liver damage and ultimately liver failure.  Sometimes a surgery called the "Kasai procedure" can be done, which reroutes the flow of bile and extends the life of the liver, but it needs to be done early enough in life (by 3 months old) to keep the liver from sustaining significant damage.  Without a successful Kasai procedure, a child cannot typically live past the age of 2 years old with biliary atresia.

So, there's my non-medical and probably not 100% accurate explanation.  But now you know.  {Cue shooting star with rainbow.}  In terms of Brooklyn's little body, she was given the Kasai procedure at around 4 months old, which is too late.  Her liver was already damaged and thus the older she got, the more that liver started shutting down.  We found out about her when she was 9 months old.  She weighed 10 lbs.  (The liver processes certain fat-soluble vitamins like A, D, E, & K, and they're needed for proper nutrition.  Since children with liver damage/failure cannot process those vitamins, they often have trouble putting on weight and getting the proper nutrition to help their little bodies grow.)  She had a big "buddha belly," caused by acites (ah-SITE-ees, which means there is fluid in her belly as a complication of liver failure), but her chest, arms/hands, legs/feet, and little booty were so, so tiny.  The doctors in China gave her a 50% chance of living 4-6 months.

PS: We are now at 6 months from that original prognosis!  {High five!}

Since October, Brooklyn has made it up to 15 lbs and grown 1 inch taller!  Yeah, girl!  And her development in all areas is just flourishing.  We're so proud of our Little Biscuit!  Lots of people (including us) are so surprised when they first meet Brooklyn, because she is tinier in person than she appears in pictures.  She has these sweet chubby cheeks and that big buddha belly, and they don't realize that her feet don't even fit in 3-6 month-size shoes!

(Her latest trick: saying "cheeeeeese!")

So, a day in the life with Brooklyn looks like this:

7-8a - She wakes up and we give her 3 vitamin supplements: a water-soluble combination of vitamins A, D, E, & K, a water-soluble version of vitamin D, and a water-soluble version of vitamin E.

When she first came home, she was gagging on pureed foods, but now she can feed herself finger foods and loves being fed with a fork or spoon.

More poop talk: B's poop is grey/white because it doesn't have bile in it.  Don't worry, it still stinks to high heaven.  ;)

9:30a - Brooklyn drinks a bottle of formula and usually takes a morning nap.
Normally, a 15-month old wouldn't still be drinking formula, but B drinks Pregestimil, which is specially formulated to be easier to digest for babies with fat-soluble digestion issues.  It's also $40/can at retail cost.  {Cha-ching!}  Totally worth it for the weight she's able to continue putting on!

11a - B wakes up, and we eat lunch and play.  She loves pulling up and cruising, she'll obsess over anything paper or plastic (or iPhone--ha), and she adores music.  (If she meets you, she will ask via hand motions if you know "The Itsy Bitsy Spider.")

1-2p - Time for another bottle and another nap!  I call the two-nap phase "nap jail" because you can only really get out of the house between those two naps.  But look at all the napping, uh I mean blogging, oops I mean housework I can get done!

2:30-4p -B wakes up and it's time for more playing!  We usually go pick up Rhet from school around this time.

5p - Dinner time for everyone--Brooklyn eats little bites of what everyone else is having.  Plus Annie's Cheddar Bunnies: her one true love.  ;)

6p- Brooklyn loves splashing in the water at bathtime.  She drinks one more bottle before going to bed around 7p.  I usually give her Benadryl, because hightened amounts of bilirubin (a result of bile) in the blood make your skin jaundiced (as you can see) and itchy.  (B's bili level is up to 23.  A normal level is 0.)  Especially when she's tired, Brooklyn scratches and scratches, and she will often scratch herself so much that she starts bleeding somewhere.  The Benadryl often helps alleviate some of the itchiness.  And thank you Old Navy, for making the only pj's B wears these days because the sleeves fold over and cover her hands in her little 6-9 month jammies!

10:30p - We wake B up to drink a bottle right before we go to bed.

2-4p - On a "good" night, B usually only wakes us up once to drink a bottle in the middle of the night.  (When we first came home, we were on "ever hour/every 2 hours" duty.  {Zzzzzzz})

Also, every minute of every day, have our phone turned on and nearby, because once we get "the call," we'll drop everything and follow our "Liver Call List."  We have an hour to return the call if we miss it, and we have 24 hours to get there after we receive it.

After transplant, Brooklyn will be in-patient at the hospital for about 2 weeks (barring complications) and then we'll stay in the Chicago area for another 2 weeks (totaling a month) so they can keep an eye on her.  Then, we'll come back every week for a month for check-ups, then every other week for a couple months, and then eventually once a month until we reach the one year anniversary of the transplant.  So far, we love Chicago, and we love Lurie, so we hope it stays that way!

One more thing: before transplant, we have to be diligent to keep Brooklyn from getting sick, because she can't be cleared for surgery if she is.  (And because transplants are so time-sensitive, that could cost us a liver!)  Post-transplant, she'll be on immune-supressing medications to keep her body from rejecting her liver, so it will be very very easy for her to catch illness.  That being said, we are being trying to be super vigilant about not exposing her to illness and germs (short of putting her in a bubble).  EVERYONE wants to touch those sweet cheeks of hers, but we're asking everyone (kids AND adults) not to touch her face or tiny little hands.  Thanks for using your super-human willpower!  (Because you guys, she's just so dang adorable!)

Thanks for praying for her and for us.  God is so good to us, and we are enjoying this sweet post-home/pre-liver time to grow our attachments nice and strong.  :)

I've Just Seen a Face

{Psst: There's a new medical update over here today... }

The weeks leading up to seeing Brooklyn's sweet face for the first time are remarkable when I look back and think about them.

I was still sorting out the medical bills/insurance mix-up hassles.  Rhet and I had started back to school that fall, and we were adjusting to our new schedule.  I inevitably got a respiratory virus that was being passed around, and it took me almost a whole month to shake it off.  After it came back with a vengeance, I high-tailed it to my parents' house in Atlanta for help and rest.  We had fall break that week, and Rhet and I went early in the week and Nick joined us later for a few days.

The day we arrived, I had a missed call on my phone from a number I didn't recognize.  It's here in the story that I need to push rewind for a second...

****
A year and a half earlier, I had been praying for a 7-month-old little girl in China.  A friend had been advocating for her, and her picture just stuck with us.  Her file was not complete (nor was it being worked on at the time), so I just prayed and prayed for her family...and I prayed for us...that maybe we could be her family.  She had a medical condition I had never heard of before: biliary atresia.  I googled it and internet-researched it (yeah, the best kind of research right? ;) ) and just prayed.  Biliary atresia seemed big and scary.  And yet I just prayed....Lord, please find her a family.  Lord, please let us be the family.  Nick wasn't feeling it.  We had just gotten rolling on our Dave Ramsey quest--we still had all of our debt.  We didn't have any space for a new kiddo.  He didn't feel led to say yes.  And that is the way things go.  One person feels the pull, the other person isn't on the same page.  You live in the tension.  You pray and talk and one of you moves.  It requires lots of respect and communication and open hearts and a commitment not to harbor resentment, and it is really hard.  I think most adoption stories for most families probably include a piece of that.  But you move forward, knowing that you both have your family's best interests and God's leading on your hearts, and you'll make a decision...together. We decided that I could fill out a Family Profile for the adoption agency in order to find out more about her if and when her file was completed, but otherwise, I moved--this time was a "no."
****

So I listened to the voicemail from the unknown number.  A year and a half later, it is a representative from the adoption agency whose voice I'm hearing.  The message was vague: Can you please call me back?  I have something I need to ask you.  The voicemail was out of the clear blue and it perplexed me.  I stood in my parent's driveway, alone, just wondering.  I called her back and got her voicemail.  I googled her name--she is the coordinator for the China Hosting Program.  Ahhh, she wants to know if we could host a child next summer, I guess.  Um, lady?  Do you know we are already stacked on top of each other in our itty bitty house?  I dismiss the message in my mind.

But all week, my mind went back to it.  Is that what she really wanted?

I received a text from my dear friend Brooke, a matron of honor in my wedding, on the same day that I received the voicemail from the adoption agency.  The message says: We must talk.  Been way too long.  You've been showing up in dreams!  For real!  I figure it's a sign.  We played phone tag for the next couple of weeks.

The week at my parent's house was just what we needed.  Relaxing, recovery from illness, playing, sunshine, date nights, just enjoying being together. Nick and I even took the plunge and updated our "archaic" phones.  Our family of three drove back to Memphis at the end of that week feeling lighter and more restful.

Nick was unpacking the car that night while Rhet helped, and I flopped on the bed for a minute to stretch out from the long roadtrip.  I went to Facebook on my phone, and my eyes were drawn to the picture of a baby girl staring back at me.  A friend had reposted her picture from a China Waiting Child Advocacy page.  She was 9 months old.  With biliary atresia.  (Yep, I know what that is.  I've been sitting with that idea for a year and a half.)  Her name was Brooke.  (Brooke!  She's been having dreams about me...)  Nick came in the house with another suitcase and I called out to him, "Hey Nick!  Come look at this little girl..."

"Oh geez..." he mutters with a smile as he takes my phone.  He looks at her a second longer than usual.  "She is adorable," he says, his voice softening.  My heart leaps--NOT Nick's usual response.

I've written about what our decision-making process was like that week.  What I didn't include is that we'd seen a house we were interested in the previous week when we were in Atlanta.  We contacted our realtor and set up a time for me to go see it while Rhet was in school on Monday.  It was small--not much bigger than what we currently live in now.  But it was cute and staged well and it was in a neighborhood close to where Rhet and I went to school.  I brought Nick and Rhet to see it on Tuesday, and in those 24 hours between Monday and Tuesday we ran the numbers with our mortgage broker and talked seriously about living there.  There wasn't a lot of room in the house to play, but it had a big yard.  There wasn't room for family/friends to stay with us when they visited, but we could just pile into one bedroom and put our guests in the other.  There wasn't an extra room for an another kiddo, but we could just put Rhet in the master bedroom with the alcove off of it and put a crib in the alcove.  We all walked out of the house talking about the purchase.  We promised to be in touch, Nick got in his car parked on the street and waited for us to back out of the carport, which I'd parked under due to the rain.

Scrrrrraaaaaape.  My driver's side mirror scraped along the side of the house.  AUGHH!  I immediately re-centered the car and tried again.  Scrrrrrraaaaaape.  My passenger's side mirror scraped along the other side of the carport.  No no no!!!  I can't explain what physiologically and emotionally happened to me in that moment.  I know I'm sounding melodramatic, but as I finally got the car backed out the carport and backed down the driveway and scrrrrrrrraaaaaped the bottom of the car as I pulled onto the street, it was like a clean break.  I rolled down the window and said to Nick, "Did you just see that?"  "Yeah, bummer," he replied.  And in my mind, it was done.  There was no way we could buy that house.  The scrapes on my mirrors had just snapped me back to reality.  Nope, not our house.

Now as I think about that day, it feels like God was saying "You can NOT buy this house."  There wasn't enough room for Brooklyn over the next 5 years, and more importantly, if we had put that sale into motion, we could not have pursued her adoption.  The agency wanted someone who was already paper-ready for a China adoption (meaning their dossier was already sent to China).  We were not, but we promised to move swiftly.  USCIS requires that you re-submit paperwork for any address changes--we would have had to wait 30 days to close on that house and then get new clearances on several different levels.  It just would've set us too far back.

The day after we committed to pursuing Brooklyn's adoption, I finally got in touch with the woman from the other adoption agency with whom I'd been playing phone tag for a good two weeks.  She was actually calling to offer me a referral for a little girl with congenital heart disease.  My jaw dropped.  What if I had answered her call that first day of fall break?

****
I've just seen a face
I can't forget the time or place
Where we just met

She's just the girl for me
And I want all the world
To see we've met
Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm mmm mmm

Had it been another day
I might have looked the other way
And I'd have never been aware
But as it is I'll dream of her tonight
La, di, di, da di di

Falling, yes I am falling
And she keeps calling
Me back again

Medical Update, Web Address Update, and a Heap of Gratitude

There is a new medical update on our page--Brooklyn's hernia surgery was moved up a couple days.

In other news, you can now access this page with the old web address OR my new one:
www.jessefaris.com

Also, as I sit at this desk with four stacks of unopened and unused thank you cards, all ready to send to all of you, I just want to say: thanks.  For your open hands, for your constant prayers, for your selfless help, and for your crazy grace that has me feeling so grateful without a chance to catch up and send a proper thank you.  Until I get there, know I'm feeling it!

The Way Way Back

Bear with me, friends, as I attempt to tell the story God has been writing.  To begin, we must start with some setup.  These are the things that can only be traced in hindsight...

In February 2014, I attended a favorite retreat for adoptive mom's called Created for Care.  One of my "take-aways" from the retreat that weekend (through several different sessions and conversations) was that I needed to listen to God in a more focused way.  In the minivan on the drive back, a group of dear friends challenged me in this.  And so I began to make an effort to listen.

I didn't grow up with an emphasis around me on listening to God or hearing God speak.  That was a little too "out there"...a little too charismatic-sounding for the denomination in which was raised.  I prayed.  I've been counseled by the Holy Spirit through people and Scripture.  But feeling prompted by God or hearing God was a little beyond my comfort zone.  Even typing it now, that I felt prompted by God or told by God to do something...it feels weird to me.  So I just need to tell you that that was my starting point.

My first time of focused, intentional, quiet listening to the Lord after I returned from the retreat, I wrote down two things:
1. We should ask our landlord if we can buy the house we've been leasing from him.
2. I needed to ask my friend Amy if she had any positions available for teaching at her preschool (to kick paying off our debt into a higher gear).

We've been leasing this little 900-square-foot house since I moved in after grad school in 2005.  That's right...this April, I will have lived in this house for 10 years!  I never imagined Nick and I would live here together for 9 years, start our family here, continue our family here...!  We seriously could have paid off the house by now.  While that could make me a little sick with regret, I'm also so thankful for the many years of NON-homeownership that we've lived through--being able to make changes in this house without paying for them, repairs and replacements that were required without our financial responsibility.  The 6-month lease I signed in 2005 has led to a decade of good memories and lessons in contentment.

We started to take a closer look at our house.  What would we change?  What were its flaws and strengths?  We have definitely redefined our definition of "cramped" for the last 5 years as we added another dog (totaling 2), then added a kid, then lost a dog...(and of course now added another kid!)  We desire more space for the future, but we also love the idea of being able to pay off a house quickly.  In examining our house with a more critical eye (the kind you have to a blinder on most of the time to enjoy contentment with you have), we realized there are some things we didn't think we could change about the house that we also didn't want for our family long term.

Simultaneously, I contacted my friend Amy, who is the director at a local preschool.  She didn't have any available positions at the school, but she told me she could definitely use me as a substitute teacher if I was able to fill in that way.  Something was better than nothing, although I wasn't quite sure what I would do with Rhet on the days I was substituting.  I filled out the application and visited Amy at her office.  In the meantime, a good friend who taught at the school was getting ready to take a maternity leave.  It started lining up in just the right way at just the right time that perhaps I could fill in as a teacher's aid in the class my friend was about to be leaving....  With a regular position, they were able to make a spot for Rhet in the 3-year-old class.

And so began last spring, pondering what we wanted in a future house (whether in the one in which we were living or elsewhere) and starting a part-time gig with small people.

In the busy-ness, I started developing this pain in my right molars.  I visited the dentist, convinced it was cavity-related, but they couldn't find anything wrong.  The pain spread up my jaw, and it would come and go intermittently.  After a few weeks, it consumed the entire right side of my face and it would bring me to tears it was so intense.  It happened on the way to school, at school, after school, and it even woke me in the middle of the night.  I visited my general practitioner who referred me to an ENT.  I went back to the general practitioner and then back to the ENT.  I finally went back to the general practitioner who referred me to a neurologist, and the neurologist sent me in for an MRI and diagnosed me with trigeminal neuralgia.  I was so desperate for relief from the pain, and I was so thankful to finally find a source.  At the same time, this whole "no cure" except for a really invasive surgery thing had me entirely freaked out.  I was put on anti-seizure medication, which left me feeling really tired and out of it, it affected my bladder in my weird way, and it even changed the way I smelled tasted things.  (I could not stand the smell of tap water!)  BUT, it IMMEDIATELY stopped the terrible pain, and that was enough for me.  I resigned myself to being on the medication for the rest of my life or until surgery was needed.

School ended, the summer began, and our May and June months were pretty busy.  I finally became irked enough with the side effects of my medication that I called my neurologist's office during a trip to Nashville.  She told me they'd switch medications to see if my side effects were alleviated, but she recommended I try not taking any medication at all for a couple of days.  If I experienced the face pain, I could immediately start the new meds.  This was a weird idea for me, but in the midst of all-day meetings for a training we were at, I went ahead and gave it a whirl.

The pain never came back.  I barely believed it, and completely credited it to a miracle healing.  For real.

That summer, we contacted a realtor and began casually looking at homes and figuring out what we wanted/liked, with the goal of maybe finding something by the spring of the next year.

We also took a trip to Chicago over the summer, as I tagged along with Nick for work.  We fell in LOVE with the city--we had great weather and a great time.  I ventured out everyday on my own, learning how to navigate the trains and buses.  The conference Nick attended is held annually, and we looked forward to returning again to Chicago for the next one.

And then, strangely, we started receiving medical bill after medical bill.  They were charging us full cost for the myriad of dr's appointments and tests I had received in the spring.  It was such a mystery, and as soon as I called and resolved one bill, another would show up for the same appointment or test.  After a bit, we figured out that Nick's employer had forgotten to sign us up for health insurance that year--somehow, we had just slipped through the cracks.  The retroactively added us, it didn't "take," they retroactively added us again, it didn't "take" again, and then finally they resolved the problem once and for all.

That fall, I continued working at the preschool as a permanent teacher's aid in a different class.  I received a discount on tuition and after-care, which allowed Rhet to start Jr Kindergarten there with my good friend (who was back from maternity leave).

I started reading through a great book entitled "The Best Yes" and meeting with friends every other week to discuss it.  It was all about how to make decisions that honored the Lord and discerning where He was leading.

And that brings us up to October, the month we saw B's face for the first time. (The two weeks leading up to seeing her picture get a post of their own!)

Hindsight has shown me God's hand in many ways:

• I needed to be able to listen to God before I could have heard Him telling us we needed to pursue Brooklyn.  The challenging conversation with my friends last February and the paradigm shift it caused as well as reading through "The Best Yes" with friends in the fall were so instrumental in this.

• Thinking about houses and whether we could/should stay in this one and eventually the decision to look for a house to buy influenced Brooklyn's adoption by getting us ready for change.  We were looking to the future and evaluating what our growing family would need in the future.  We were discussing debt and budgets and timelines.

• The job!  It helped us continue paying off debt, it gave Rhet a great school opportunity for this year, and (this was SO HUGE) it gave me so much flexibility to complete paperwork as fast as I could this fall.  There were several days I took off while Rhet went to school, and Rhet was able to stay in aftercare many afternoons when I was rushing around town.  The teachers even gave up Secret Santa during the holidays to take up a donation for our adoption expenses instead.  We were so so so blessed by the school and my job this past year.  Even now, Rhet has a stable school schedule with people we love and trust during this time of transition.  We could NOT have sped through the adoption as quickly as we did (which means maybe we could not have even adopted B at all) if it had not been for the preschool!  

• I still can not believe that I have not had one reoccurrence of trigeminal neuralgia symptoms.  I firmly believe God healed me from it so that I would be free to pursue this adoption.  I also think it was used to show us the problem with our health insurance so that we could get ready to bring B home.  We learned much more about our deductible and benefits through my whole ordeal, and we got all of the mess straightened out.  And if I had still been suffering from the condition during the adoption process, I would have had to get special permission and fill out extra paperwork to make an allowance for my health status.  With the whole thing in the past, we were able to bypass all of that.

• The trip to Chicago, y'all.  I still can't believe everything has led us back to Chicago.  When we were looking at programs on our approved "centers of excellence" list with short, direct flights, Chicago practically stood out in lights.  Not only did we have HUGE emotional support from dear friends-like-family there, but I felt so comfortable with the idea of going there alone and getting around the city and being in that big urban jungle because of my time there last summer.  Also, I had tasted and seen the awesomeness that is Garrett Popcorn.  ;) 

I can't wait to tell you what happened in October leading up to Brooklyn's "Face Day."  It is wild and only of God, as is every single step along this journey.  To be continued...!

Medical Update

A new update for Brooklyn is waiting over on her medical update page.  (I also provided links at the top of the blog page for better access.)

Brooklyn's Medical Updates

To keep all of Brooklyn's medical updates in one place, I've created a separate page on the blog for them.  Anytime we have news to share, it will be posted at the top of the Medical Update page.  I'll post on the blog that an update has been made and you can click over there to view it.  Speaking of which, I just put our first bit of news up today!

Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jig

Hello from the land of bottles, bibs, and baby babbles!  Over here on the blog, no news has been good news--in the true fashion of this adoption process, we received last minute travel approval to go get Brooklyn, and we jumped on a plane 2 days later.  Fifteen days later, we returned to Memphis with our new daughter!

The past couple of weeks have been a blur of transition, but I'm ready to tell the story God has been writing about His glory and His great love for Brooklyn.

First things first, though, because I know you guys are wanting an update.  Here it is, in bullet points:

- We were able to get Brooklyn in to see our GI Team in Memphis a day and a half after returning from China.  Her blood labs returned with some good (normal) numbers and some pretty bad numbers.  We expected this, so there were no surprises there.  She is in liver failure, she does need a transplant, but her health for the time being is stable.

- Later that first week we were home, we got some news that initially disappointed us: our health insurance will not cover a transplant here in Memphis.  They require that we go elsewhere to a designated "center of excellence," which are centers that meet a certain criteria set by the insurance company (including number of transplants done per year, success rates, cost effectiveness, etc.).  While we were still dealing with our first week home and jet-lagging, this news was a little overwhelming to take in.  The closest center of excellence to us does not have any direct flights to it, and it takes about 5 hours of driving time.  But we started looking at the list of approved centers for pediatric liver transplants, and we realized something that changed our perspective: yes, traveling elsewhere is inconvenient and uncomfortable, but we have the change to CHOOSE where our child will receive care.  And we had some great choices as far as programs go.  So, we looked at that list with new eyes, pitting programs against each other, looking at success rates & wait times, and considering national rankings.  We chose Lurie Children's Hospital of Chicago--they have relatively inexpensive and short direct flights from Memphis, they are ranked #2 in the nation for GI/GI surgery, and most providentially, Chicago is the home of a very special person to us--the woman who found Brooklyn in her orphanage and advocated for her, which led to our agency working to complete her file and find a family for her, and you mostly know the rest of that story!  ;)  Another friend who just took the enormous burden of fundraising off of our plates lives just 2 hours away from Chicago.  Between the two of them, they have an army of friends who have already supported us financially and in prayer.  We are confident (and oh-so-humbled!) that we will be well taken care of in Chicago.  (Also, you may remember my fun little tag-along trip with Nick to Chicago back in June--I fell in love with the place and had a lot of fun exploring with the trains and buses.)

- We're set up for an evaluation next Tuesday (February 17th) at Lurie, after which Brooklyn will be placed on the transplant list.  More to come about what all of that will involve.

- Our family transition has been fun, hard, joy-filled, frustrating, lots of work, and completely covered with help and prayers from people we love.  (THANK YOU, Team Brooklyn!!!)

Many people have asked how they can help, so here are some immediate needs:
- Formula!  Brooklyn's liver can't process the some of the nutrients in regular formula, so we are feeding her special formula called Pregestimil.  You can order it online through Amazon, Walmart, Walgreens, etc or I can also order it through my local pharmacy.  It ranges in price from $28-38 per 1 lb can, and we go through 1 can every three days or so.  (Cha-ching!!)  We would be SO grateful, if you want to send us formula or a gift card to help us purchase it!

- My friend Elizabeth set up a Meal List for us, and your food has been manna from heaven!  I can't tell you how awesome it is not to have to worry about grocery shopping and cooking as we deal with transitioning and getting our medical help lined up!  Several friends from out of town even signed up, and have told us they'll have something delivered.  (In the process, I found this nifty meal delivery service that will deliver from several restaurants in our area!)

- Giftcards to Target--we're still making those "oh, I forgot we would need that for a baby" trips.  :)

- Cash to help with our many trips to Chicago this year!  We're keeping the Razoo site open for now to help with medical costs, but we may switch over to something more medically related in the future.

- Diapers are always welcomed--Little Biscuit is currently a size 2, and we've been using Pampers Swaddlers.  (We also like Pampers Cruisers once she's big enough, but her little 14-lb self is so teeny that they don't sell them in her size yet!)

- We are good on clothes for a bit, although I know it is so much fun to shop for baby girls!  (In fact it is so much fun, I like to do the shopping!  Old Navy, Baby Gap, Target, and Carter's are our favorites for little girl clothes.)

We are so, so thankful for all of your prayers and well-wishes.  I can't even begin to tell you how much God has done and used you to do, but I'm going to attempt to tell the story of His provision and power over the next few weeks during naptimes!  

Life in the Fast Lane

Just a quick update tonight to let you know where we are in the process, which is: ALMOST DONE. Seriously. 

I had grand plans of writing about all of the crazyawesome things God has done in the last 11, but things just keep zipping along. Don't worry...the stories are coming! But I think I'm going to have to save them for Brooklyn's naptimes or as a post-bedtime activity. 

Because we are waiting for the very last step before we get on a plane: TA, also known as Travel Approval. An important packet of documents is getting picked up tonight (Monday) in China and sent somewhere else, after which we're praying we'll receive TA as early as tomorrow night (Tuesday). (It's weird how everything happens "in the future"--because China is 12 hours ahead, their tomorrow is done when ours is just getting started!) We are praying, praying, praying that we can get on a plane to go get our little gal this next weekend!!! 

Please continue to pray for appointments and approvals to be issued as needed, for travel arrangements, for sweet Rhet as she handles transitions and our absence during the trip, for Brooklyn's health and healing and transitions, and for peace for all in the midst of all this crazy! 

Star of Wonder

Throughout our adoption process with Brooklyn (all 8 weeks of it so far!), we've experienced so many instances in which we could say "only God."  Now looking back, I am seeing even more ways God made a way for us to pursue Brooklyn.  I'm hoping to share as many as I can remember here, as a testimony to the power of God and for my own memory's sake.

But first, I have to start with Facebook.  Ohhhhh, Facebook.

I was late to the game, having graduated college before FB was sweeping the collegiate nation.  I remember hearing about the concept one evening when I was hanging out with a younger friend, and I thought it was the dumbest idea ever.  You just make friends with your friends?  And then you poke them?  And yet, shortly before Facebook opened its gates to the general public, I weaseled my way in with my old Auburn email address.  It was the summer of 2006, and I was already married, thus missing out on the thrill of changing my relationship statuses.  Those were good times, with statuses like "Jesse is wearing a scarf today, even if everyone else thinks it's silly" and photo albums for every month...

Ah, the dawn of social networking.

But Facebook lost its luster along the years for me.  Shortly before Rhet came home, I remember feeling really sensitive to what I was going to put "out there" about my child.  I felt a new desire for privacy.  I didn't love reading all of the judge-y rants or knowing everyone and their Great-Aunt Sue was weighing my own words with a critical eye.  (And I hated myself for doing the same.)  Over the past several years, I used FB mostly as the tool to keep up with my long-distance friends' happenings.  I had even deleted the app from my phone this year, finding that I was happier to spend my time elsewhere.

Please don't read that has a "high and mighty" state of being.  I just feel it's important to start there with what happens next...

On the evening of Sunday, October 12th, our family had just gotten home to Memphis from a roadtrip.  We had unpacked, had a quick dinner, and I was finally laid out and catching up on Facebook within the browser of my phone.  And I saw her face.

That face.  It gripped me.  And I immediately passed the phone over to Nick.  I can't remember his exact reaction, but it was probably a light-hearted eye roll or a snarky comment to make me giggle.

Brooklyn's picture and a short plea for a family had been posted on a waiting child advocacy page by the adoption agency social worker that day.  And a close friend of mine had shared the link.  There were 90 likes and 103 comments on the original picture.

Something in me needed to know more.  I emailed the social worker that night asking for more information on the little girl they were calling "Brooke."

The rest, as your mostly know, is history.  There were other things happening during this time period, but I'm sticking with the Facebook-centric stories for this post, so we'll fast forward to the night we asked God for a clear answer that we needed to say yes to Brooke.  I shared a little bit about that in this post, but just to remind you, the answer we received came via a (then) stranger's personal message sent to me on Facebook.

We've befriended a couple strangers over Facebook through that first personal message, and they have become not only dear friends but part of Brooklyn's larger family in the way we regard them.  I can't wait to share more about them in another post!

The day we announced on the waiting child advocacy page that Brooke had found a family and the family was ours, we had something like 90 likes within 10 minutes.  (The post ended up receiving 293 total likes!)  I'm not sharing that to highlight the the popularity, but to show the way this little girl of us just grips people.  When you see her picture, you keep looking.  You want to know more.  This interest on Facebook, in my opinion, has brought many people to their knees in prayer for her.  And it is these prayers that have influenced the hand of God in her paperwork and our process.

Shortly into the process, a friend added me to a group of a small number of families completing medical expedited adoptions in China.  This group has been like GOLD, helping me learn the fastest way to complete the paperwork for our medically fragile child.

Last week, we started on online fundraising campaign.  We were asking for $22,000 to cover travel expenses and fees for the rest of our adoption process with Brooklyn.  It was a very large amount to try to raise.  And it was during the holidays.  But we had been given the hope that if things continued on the trajectory they were on, we could be traveling to bring our girl home in January, so something needed to be done.  3 days.  THREE DAYS.  The news went out over Facebook, over this blog, over a few personal emails.  And the amount was raised in three days.  By family, by friends, by strangers.  We were amazed but not surprised.

And here is what I'm left thinking about Facebook: of all vehicles, of all platforms, of all ways that God could bring us to this little girl...it was this one.  And it has been how He has spurred on prayer and given wisdom and brought provision.  All through this social network that I had very recently pretty much despised.

He does that.  He can take our avenues of common culture and lead people to Himself.

Many years ago, three wise men were studying the stars.  As in, I'm guessing, astrology.  And what did God send?  A star.  The brightest one.  And it led them to worship.  

Fundraising Update

We are completely floored, overwhelmed, humbled, honored, blown away, overjoyed, in awe {ETC!} of your donations toward our fundraising to bring Brooklyn home!! 

All $22,000 of our goal has been raised, plus some extra.

Be assured that the extra will go toward our "bringing Brooklyn home expenses," which will include multiple post adoption reports from our home study agency after she gets home and medical expenses, of which we're sure there will be many.

We'll be drawing the raffle winner on Friday.  If you gave or shared, PLEASE fill out the Rafflecopter form below OR contact me via Facebook or email--I will take your entries and put them into our "Random Picker" raffle generator.  I want to make sure everyone is entered that wanted to be!

THANK YOU from the bottom of our hearts for your gifts.  You are all amazing, and we are in awe of God's hand in every step of Brooklyn's adoption process!!!

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Raffle for Brooklyn

*** UPDATE ON RAFFLE: Friends, we are having such exciting responses from our fundraising efforts that I'm changing the program that we'll use to draw our winner.  We will be using "Random Picker," an internet raffle drawing generator.  Continue to purchase raffle entries for $10 (worth 2 pts each) and share our fundraising website on Facebook, Twitter, or your blog for an entry (worth 1 pt each).  You can purchase as many tickets or share as many times as you'd like!  IF YOU HAVE DONATED OR SHARED, PLEASE TELL US IN SOME WAY SO WE CAN ADD YOU TO THE "RANDOM PICKER" LIST--THRU FB COMMENT, BLOG COMMENT, EMAIL, OR BY FILLING OUT THE RAFFLECOPTER BELOW.  We also have friends hosting their own private fundraisers, and therefore we're accepting offline donations (which go into a separate account we have just for adoption expenses).  We're looking into how to reflect the change in offline donations given, and we'll be showing that as soon as we can.  We are blown away by your generosity, friends!!! ***

Immediately after sharing our exciting news, some dear friends of ours jumped into action.  One of them was Brian Crenshaw, a fellow adoptive parent, student ministry director of our church (Fellowship Memphis), and a very talented artist.  He expressed a desire to paint a piece for us to put in a raffle or auction off.  He got right to work on it, and brought it over shortly thereafter.

Isn't it beautiful?  It is entitled "For Brooklyn."  It is approximately 24x24 painted on wood plank and trimmed with a simple wood frame.  I am in LOVE with this painting--the colors are some of my favorites, and it makes me feel peaceful.

But alas, it's not "For Jesse," so here's what we're going to do blog friends: we're going to raffle off this painting.  It is worth an estimated retail price of $400+.  It would make an unforgettable Christmas gift for a loved one...or for yourself!  I'll ship this beauty anywhere within the United States, and shipping is on us! 

TO ENTER THE "FOR BROOKLYN" RAFFLE:

1. Entries can be purchased for $10 each by donating on our Razoo fundraising website.

(If you purchase more than one ticket, just let me know in the the appropriate place on Rafflecopter and I'll adjust your number of entries manually.)

2. Tickets can also be "earned" by sharing our Razoo fundraising website on Facebook, Twitter, or your blog and asking your friends to donate!
(One ticket per social networking platform per day--just let me know if you share on more than one platform and I'll adjust your number of entries.)

**PURCHASED ENTRIES receive 2 POINTS PER ENTRY, and social networking entries will receive 1 point her entry.  However, you never know which entry will win!  May the odds be ever in your favor!

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White Lightning Christmas

Hello from the land of warp speed!  I've been a little radio silent lately due to some crazy paper-workin' and holiday travel and post-holiday illness.

But I'm back with great news: our dossier heads to China this week!

For you international adoption novices, let me do my best to catch you up to speed, but first let me cut to the chase: WE NEED YOUR HELP!  Our timeline is just moving along supercrazyfast, and it is likely that we will be able travel to get Brooklyn in JANUARY!  Whoa, people.  WHOA.

We need to raise $22,000 in a month.  Can you help us?  Can you ask your friends to help us?  It takes less than 5 minutes to click over to our Razoo crowdsourcing site and give as you feel led.  We would be incredibly grateful if you would take part in Brooklyn's story!

Back to how this is all going down:
There are two labor intensive, paperwork-heavy processes that you participate in when you get started on an international adoption...

(1) The home study: This is basically a report that a social worker will write up on your family, ultimately giving their official and trusted "thumbs up" for adopting.  You have to provide your social worker with LOADS of proof that you will be a good parent to the child/ren you wish to adopt.  (Proof = medical reports, financial analyses, letters of recommendation, autobiographies from both spouses, birth certificates, marriage certificate, ok you get the idea, etc etc)

(2) The dossier: This is confusing, because the home study IS PART OF the dossier.  The dossier includes a lot of the aforementioned types of documents plus more legal proof of your family stability--it is a collection of documents that get authenticated to the highest level and then translated and sent to the country you're adopting from. Two of the last documents that join this collection are (1) your home study and (2) your immigration approval to adopt from the specific country (which also requires your completed home study before it is issued).

See how this whole thing becomes a revolving door of papers?

Every document in your dossier is notarized by a local notary, and then (if it's notarized in some states like here in Tennessee) you must go to your County Clerk and get them to authenticate your documents--they basically stamp the documents and say, "yes, this notary from our county is legit."  Then the documents go to the Secretary of State in your state's capital city and those guys say, "yep, that county clerk is legit."  Then the documents (if you're in certain states such as Tennessee) travel to Washington DC, first to the US Department of State who vouches for your Secretary of State's authentication and then on to the Chinese Embassy who sees the Department of State's ok and puts their seal of approval on it as well.  THEN and only then does it get translated into (in this case) Chinese and sent to the appropriate government people in China.

You guys.  All of that process has happened in 7 weeks.  That is awesomecrazy. (Awezy?  Crawsome?)

Here's what we have ahead of us:
Our dossier gets "logged in" when it makes it into the appropriate Chinese office.
We will receive a "Letter of Approval" from China to adopt Brooklyn.
US Immigration will issue an approval for us to adopt Brooklyn (specifically).
Some other paperwork happens behind the scenes that sends that approval through the appropriate channels.
Then, China issues us "Travel Approval" and we can fly on over 1-2 weeks later to scoop up our brand new daughter!

This process usually happens in an average of 3 months for an average special needs case.  We are praying that this process will take 4 weeks.  Y'all, the Lord has moved mountain after molehill to plow through these checkpoints.  We are just along for the ride.  And we're so glad you're with us! 

GodSpeed

Four weeks ago, we officially decided to pursue Brooklyn's adoption.

Every yes that led us to that decision kept leading us to more and more yeses.  And then picture a dam crumbling and flooding us with the blessing and yeses and provision and presence of God after that big yes.

In four weeks, we have completed the home study and dossier.  (For frame of reference, that took four MONTHS with Rhet, and I had thought we were being speedy!)

There have been so, SO many answered prayers and God-instances in this four-week journey.  The Lord has truly THROWN open the doors to get us to our girl.

And then I was given a humbling reminder...

This past weekend, we had a series of events that had the appearance of everything unraveling.  We'd had some rooms painted last week and the painter took a day longer than agreed.  All the furniture was in the middle of the floor on the morning of our home visit.  The TV wall mount wouldn't work as planned.  One of our vehicles surprised us by refusing to show any signs of life.  My last document for our dossier had been promised by Friday and had yet to show up.

We worked like crazy people getting the furniture back in place.  Friends came to help with the TV.  At least we still had one working vehicle.  And our needed document appeared in the mailbox. Home visit went smoothly.

But the TiVo.  It was not working.  I mean, eh, it wasn't a big deal, right?

But it just bugged me.  Here I am moving heaven and earth to get all of this paperwork finished and we can't get the TiVo working.  So I did what anyone used to being on a mission would do: I put all of my adoption paperwork fervor into this one small task of getting the TiVo up and running.

But wait, it turned out the hard drive had crashed.  We can work with that--I found out how to replace the unit inexpensively and ran right out and purchased a new unit.  But wait, TiVo didn't want to honor our past subscription price.  Well, I worked something out with the customer service reps.  But wait, when we pulled the new unit out of the box, we realized we didn't have a way to hook it up.  (Our HDMI port is "burnt out" on our TV.)  Ok, I'll find a way to convert it to the ports we can use.  But wait, the promised conversion box was not in stock at the store.  But wait, I'll try another store.  No luck there either.  But wait, here's a different port that may work--let's try it.  But wait, it needs an extra cord.  That can be fixed by yet another store run.  But wait, they don't carry that specific cord.  I reached the end of the night with nothing fixed.

And as I laid my head on the pillow, I sensed the Lord reminding me:
Hey Jesse?  I am the one moving heaven and earth to get all of this paperwork finished.  If you want to keep working out of your OWN efforts, they will all end up like this TiVo.

BOOM.  He was so right.

And lo and behold, we hit a snag with the final home study completion this week.  Something that threatened a long delay.  And I wrung my hands and stressed and blamed last night.  And God is already fixing it.  (You can pray about that, by the way!)

Getting to Brooklyn is not by our OWN efforts and in our OWN speed.  It is all Him, my friends.

Please pray for our immigration clearance and dossier authorization, which are the next steps after this home study gets signed off.

My mom sent me this quote last night, and you can pray this over us as well:
"When I feel anxiety begin to rise up in me, it helps to hold an empty bowl--a reminder that my soul is made to receive from God rather than achieve for God."  (Emily Freeman)

Oh, and our dead vehicle was raised to life yesterday.  Costly repairs?  Naaaahhhh.  Just a dud battery that had been installed last month.  Under warranty, of course.  Grace upon grace upon grace...

Via Brim Papery (and hanging on our freshly painted wall!)

The Someone is Us: A "Big News" Post

A couple of weeks ago, we were just minding our own business.  Living normal life.  And then things changed.

They changed on an evening when we saw a picture of a little girl.  And we were faced with a decision: between wishing someone would do something and doing it.  

We wrestled.  We prayed.  And we decided.

WE ARE ADOPTING AGAIN!  

Meet Brooklyn Faris!  She is 10 months old in China.  She has a condition called biliary atresia, where the ducts that carry bile from the liver to the small intestine are blocked and damage the liver.  She is currently in liver failure and needs a liver transplant ASAP.

We found her through a good friend who had just seen a post about her on a China Waiting Child Advocacy Facebook group.  There were many inquiries and comments.  Maybe someone will adopt her, we hoped.  Maybe the someone is us, we wondered.

We prayed and discussed and prayed some more.  It's not like this is terrible timing...we were planning on adopting in the next year.  It's just, we hadn't planned on this.  And it was out of "order"--we were looking for a house to buy first.  We haven't saved at ALL or planned a bit yet!  And...it's just plain scary.  We we were afraid of big things: What if we can't get her home in time?  How will this affect Rhet or change us as a family or as parents?  We were afraid of small things: How will we pay for all of it?  What will the transition be like from one kiddo to two?  Where can we put her in this little ole house?  But still, the wondering lingered...

Maybe the someone is us.

It weighed heavier and heavier on our hearts.  We talked about it daily.  We started gathering information "just in case" we said yes.  We weren't putting the cart before the horse.  We were just...getting ready.  Just in case.  And the doors were opening, opening, opening...

Maybe the someone is us.

We had one of our nightly long conversations about the possibility of pursuing the adoption last week.  We each shared feelings and thoughts of fear that were holding us back.  We prayed together, for specific things, for specific direction, for specific leading from the Lord.  It was a big prayer...a vulnerable prayer.

I checked Facebook 30 minutes later, and there was a message from a stranger on my phone.  She was writing to tell us that our names had been shared with her, and she wanted us to know she was praying for us.  And we could not finish reading her message without breaking down in tears, because her words were direct responses and echoes of the prayer we had just offered half an hour before.  We sat there reading her message, and we knew.

We knew that the someone is us.

Pursuing adoption often means walking into the fear, pushing into the hard places, following God into the dark. We don't know how Brooklyn's story will unfold--our fears persist about how it might...but we do know that she deserves a family that loves her, that will fight to get to her, that will push through the hard for her. Every child deserves a family who will do that. We could spend our lives wondering if anyone will, or we can make bold choices to follow the Lord wherever He leads.

We are working lightning fast to start and finish a home study and dossier in a month's time.  We are trusting God to provide each expense and fee as it presents itself.  We have stepped off the cliff.

This will be a medically expedited case--the faster we can get B home, the better.

We need your help!  Please lift Brooklyn up in prayer constantly.  We confidently believe God will move mountains to sustain her health and to get her home.  (Home!!! :) )  Please pray for us, that the Holy Spirit will continue to give us His peace to move boldly with faith.  We'll let you know soon some other ways you can help.  We're all in this together, friends.

The someone is us!