It has been forever since I’ve updated, and I apologize for that. Our life has been a rollercoaster since the moment we decided to bring our little dude home. Before I go into details about the adoption process, let me just give you a glimpse into what has been going on. Actually, now that I think about it, I can’t really tell one without the other, so I guess sit back, relax, and read on.
For those of you who don’t know, I currently live with my family. In total, there are 9 of us living in a house together. Because we are family, United States Immigration (USCIS) says that I need to be able to provide for every single person in the house, and their income can’t count. It’s remarkably ridiculous, but it is what it is. Since finding that out, we realized that the amount we need to make isn’t something that is just going to fall into our lap. So, we realized it was time for my husband to get a new and better job to not only meet the income requirements to bring our son home, but to be able to move out on our own as well.
We both went into overdrive. My husband started trying to find ways to work more at his current job, while I, during our little man’s nap time, would apply him for anywhere from ten to thirty jobs a day. I put is resume on a website and applied him to everything. Literally.
And then it happened. A job fell into his lap, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Actually, it wasn’t even a job I had applied him for. To this day I am very confused about how I didn’t see it. But anyway, it was a job.
A recruiter contacted him and said that, based on his resume, she would like to have a telephone interview with him. He replied less than an hour later (I wouldn’t even let him eat breakfast until he responded) and they set up a phone interview. She asked him how much he was looking for as far as salary was concerned, and he told her the bare minimum we needed, according to USCIS, in order to bring our sweet baby boy home. She then informed us that the base pay was almost 12000 ABOVE that amount, and it didn’t even include commission or tips. We both started crying (if you know me at all, you know that I was sitting right there during his interview); it was 3 times what we had made last year. It gives us the opportunity to not only bring home our son, but possibly up to three children. This gives us the opportunity to, much sooner than planned, be able to buy a house and have our farm. God is SO good, and this opportunity was SO amazing.
We were given an estimated starting date, but sadly enough a month went by and, even with four more interviews, he hadn’t started yet. We were growing very impatient, and very ready to have our son home.
Finally, we got the call.
FINALLY he was given a starting date.
It was SO darn exciting, we both LITERALLY jumped up and down.
It was two weeks away, but it was a date.
The two weeks took forever, but they were slowly creeping along.
He was supposed to start on a Monday. Two Mondays ago, actually. But on the Thursday before he was supposed to start, he fell. My husband fell and hit his head. Hard. In fact, hard enough to get a concussion. Hard enough to be out of work for a week and a half. The doctor told him that, until the initial headache went away, he had to be in a dark room and not do anything. The doctor didn’t want him to read a book, watch TV, or even think. Even when he progressed to being able to watch TV, he had to start with things that he had watched a million times (it’s a good thing The IT Crowd gets funnier the more you watch it) because they didn’t want him to strain himself or think too hard. It sucked.
This was also the week of my birthday. In fact, I spent the morning of my birthday taking him to the doctor making sure he was alright.
He was cleared for work and ready to go, so he would start the following Monday (it was Thursday).
Then we had received terrifying news. News that made me sick to my stomach.
My little man, the little one we were working so hard for, had to be rushed into brain surgery. I was so anxious. For that entire weekend, I was SO anxious. Finally, finally I received word that he was recovering well and was doing great. Finally, I could relax a little. But it only added to the urgency I felt, that we felt.
All I could think about is when my other boy, my biological son, Axel, was in the hospital. He was checked into the hospital at only three months old for almost a month. He had an issue with kidneys. Thank the good Lord they caught it and everything worked out. But I remember each and every day he was there. The only moment I left his side is when my mom told me she’d watch him, and that I should get outside. My husband and I went on a fifteen minute walk that day. Other than that, I was there for every minute. I slept in the bed with him, I held his hand, I nursed him, I held him. I comforted him when he needed it.
But the sweet one waiting for me, I couldn’t be there. Thank goodness his nanny loves him and was with him, but it’s not the same. I wasn’t there to hold his hand and tell him that Mommy loved him, that Mommy was praying for him. I couldn’t tell him that Daddy was at work but would come visit as soon as he could. I couldn’t bring his brother in to keep him company while he was recovering. I couldn’t cuddle him while he slept. I couldn’t be his rock, his constant. I couldn’t be what he needed because I wasn’t there. I know it’s not my fault. I realize that even if we had started the process earlier I still couldn’t have been there.
But that still doesn’t ease the guilt.
It doesn’t make me feel like any less of a failure.
I wish we would have found him sooner. I wish we would have thought ahead and would have been more responsible. I wish we would have decided to adopt months ago, years ago. I wish I was better prepared for all of this.
But, sadly enough, that isn’t God’s timing. I saw him by chance one day and it turned our world upside down. I would do anything to be there with him right now, but I can’t. And it kills me.
And right now, we’re stuck.
We can’t do anything else until we get the home study started. We can’t get the home study started until we move. We can’t move until we get caught up from the two weeks that threw everything off. But I’m not sitting here on my hands. My goal is to have the money for the home study raised by the time we move, because then nothing would be in our way.
Normally, I hate asking for money. I hate begging. But I don’t even care anymore. It is far more important to get my son home.
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