"I Have No Morning Sickness But.......

....the paper cuts are terrible!" I saw this saying on an adoption website, and I just love it! I have also heard people referring to themselves as "paper pregnant". It's ironic how the timeline of this adoption process has mirrored the cycle of a biological pregnancy. We are six months in right now, and we are due to bring Ruslan home in 3 months...the equivalent of a typical 9 month pregnancy. Now I know we could split hairs about conception date, and discuss semantics of a pregnancy not technically being 9 months, but you get what I'm saying!

We are "due" in 3 months, and we have endured all of the waiting, all of the wonder and worry, all of the anticipation, all of the exhaustion and exhiliration, much like what we endured with our pregnancy when we were expecting Mason. Only there is no growing baby bump to outwardly announce to everyone that we are on this journey...there is no one telling me to go home and put my feet up, or suggesting that it's okay to be eating for two (which I do anyway, by the way!)...very few offers to take Mason for the day so I can rest, or get some things done around the house. There will be no registering for the items we need/want to be fully prepared and make this new addition feel at home and comfortable. And that's okay...I am definitely not complaining. But it is an interesting paradox!

Our frequent updates are about fundraising milestones, paperwork status, procedural next steps and more fundraising...these aren't nearly as engaging and endearing as nursery bedding, paint colors, or stroller choices...and I promise people tire of the former much sooner than the latter!

We don't have Ruslan sheltered in my womb, nourished by the nutritional choices I make, soothed and lulled by our voices, and protected physically by my own body. We aren't able to peek in on him with ultrasounds, or feel him growing and changing as the time ticks by. But, thankfully, God loves him even more than we do and is watching over him when we can't.

While I won't experience labor pains this time around, Bill and I have endured the pains of knowing that each day that passes means another day that Ruslan spends institutionalized...we also have the pains of leaving our son behind for nearly a month while we travel to bring Ruslan home.

I may not have the hormonal changes that accompany a pregnancy, but I have the same tendencies toward tearful moments, fueled by the strong emotions that are attached to this journey- and sometimes by the thoughtless comments made by others against fundraising, international adoption and the like.

If we were having a biological child, our insurance would cover nearly the entire cost. (Thank God and my hard-working husband for the blessing of medical insurance!) But we have no insurance to cover the cost of bringing this child home to a loving family...yet we feel he is worth the investment. We are praising God for His provision, and we are so grateful to the many friends, family members and strangers that have given of their time, talents and treasures to help bring Ruslan home. We have the love to give, and the desire to help, but it wouldn't be possible without Him and all of you.

We are just three months away from "delivering" this little boy...and though my stomach isn't growing, my heart is swollen with love for Ruslan. I looked up the definition of delivered...and of course there are many listed..but there are two that stood out to me. One is the definition we typically think of when we consider growing families- and another seemed oddly appropriate to describe what will happen when we bring Ruslan home for good.

de·liv·er (d-lvr)
v. de·liv·ered, de·liv·er·ing, de·liv·ers
v.tr.

1.
a. To give birth to: She delivered a baby boy this morning.
b. To assist (a woman) in giving birth: The doctor delivered her of twins.
c. To assist or aid in the birth of: The midwife delivered the baby.

2.To set free, as from misery, peril, or evil: deliver a captive from slavery

We know Ruslan isn't a slave, but we do believe we are setting him free from a life of isolation and misery...and possibly peril. We feel that we will "deliver" him on that day that he lands at RDU and steps out of the airport and into the first day of the rest of his life. And we can imagine the friends and family in the "waiting room" (or airport waiting area as the case may be!)waiting to hear that Ruslan has arrived, that he and the family are doing well, and that there is a wonderful delivery to celebrate.

As a side note, I'm voting in favor of loaning an "empathy belly" (come on, you've seen it in health class!) to adoptive families so we can more readily be aware and share in their journey and they can represent their adoption in a symbolic way!!!!

Thank you for "expecting" along with us...it's one heck of a journey!