Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Yeah, Malaria!

Never in a gajillion years would I have guessed picking up malaria medication would make me happy. Well, today when Pharmacist Karen put that bag in my hot, little hand I felt another reassurance that this is really happening. To us. We're really going to Haiti. We're really going to be able to hug and kiss and tickle and hold and snuggle our babies.

It's funny how life turns out. I'd never guess that somewhere in Haiti were two little children that would give our hearts a purpose. They need us and we need them. Risking bizarre, tropical infectious disease doesn't seem too much to ask for this chance. It's like my own warped version of a holiday carol: "On, Yellow Fever! On, Giardia! On, Malaria! On, Typhoid!" (OK, it sounded better in my head, but what are you doing to do...)

So today, I'm thankful for malaria (and on the appropriate preventative medicines) for the reminder that I have that there's a greater purpose to all this. And that's what it's all about.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007


This is my friend, Kohl.

(He put some ant stickers on his face and we were making face at each other in the mirror)

He happens to live next-door and is the son of some of our best friends. He's my KohlBaby/SweetStars (and yes, I stole that last nickname from my sister, but it seeemed to fit Kohl better than the traditional "sweetheart".)

A few days before we found out we were going to get Lexi and Nathan, I stopped by to visit Kohl and his family. I was chatting with his parents about my recent trip to the Netherlands and some of the adventures there. Out of the blue, Kohl announced that he had something to tell us. When all eyes were on him, Kohl said that he had a friend who was a little boy ('Like me!", he said), except "hims got black skin and hims lives REALLY FAR AWAY."

Cliss, Rob and I all look at each other, hoping that one of the others will know what he's talking about. Cliss asked Kohl some questions, trying to figure out who this friend was. "Is he from your church class? Is it someone from preschool? Is he in your gymnastics class?" Kohl answered "no" to each of these questions. "Well, who is it, Kohl?" "Hims my friend."

He kept talking about this little boy who had black skin. He said that the boy's mommy and daddy wouldn't let Kohl come to "hims house because hims lives "REALLY FAR AWAY". (Every time he said that last part, his eyes would get big and he'd make this broad gesture with his thumb like he was trying to hitchhike.)

We'd talked to Kohl before about how Brent and Lolo (that's what Kohl calls me) were going to get a little boy or girl. I don't know how much he understood about it, and we certainly didn't have any news to tell them at the time.

Cliss said that Kohl kept talking about this little black friend for a few days after that. He never could explain who this little boy was. Just a few days after that initial discusison with Kohl we found out that our referral was going to be official and that Lexi and Nathan are ours.

You can say it's just coincidence, but I think Kohl knew before the rest of us that he was going to be getting some new friends. He's right - "hims" is really far away, and as "hims" new mommy and daddy, we won't let Kohl go see Nathan. But we will bring Nathan here to be with Kohl. How does that sound, SweetStars?

It does make me wonder how much we'd be able to understand if we had the faith of a little child, ears to hear and hearts to understand. Thanks, KohlBaby!

Monday, November 26, 2007

Sweet Sandwich...

Monday, November 26, 2007

My beautiful sister is 8 years younger than me. We shared a room from the day she was born. When she was about 3, and I was about 11 we had a little ritual of sorts. I'd tuck her into bed and then we'd say, "Good night.... Sweet dreams." to each other. One night, however, the exchange when a bit like this:

Lori: "Good night, Lindsay"
Lindsay: "Good night, Lori"
Lori: "Sweet dreams!"
Lindsay: "Sweet.... sandwich!"

... Silly Sis....

And thus a new tradition was born. "Sweet sandwich"... "Silly sis". I've been thinking about my own siblings and thinking about all those inside stories/random happenings that grow to hold a tender place in the Family Hall of Fame. They become a part of who we are and they help us relate to ourselves and each other. They create links and bounds that hold us to one another.

People say things like, 'you get that from your dad's side of the family" or "you said that just like your mom would have." In my family, we all have a wicked wit and I personally hold both my parents responsible for that.

I do wonder how that impacts adopted children - not just mine, but those in any situation. I started this entry by relating a story about my sister. My children will be able to develop a family identity at that level. How will they feel with respect to the unknown parents and grandparents. Lexi may, very well, laugh like her mother. But we'll never know that. Nathan may well like horses like a grandfather once did. We'll never know that either.

Tonight I'm thinking about what has defined my family and helped me feel secure in those relationships. The two things I keep returning to are "love" and "time". Good thing we've got plenty of those.

Sunday, November 25, 2007


It's amazing how many weird moments cause me to think about my children - these two little souls so far away that don't even know they have a new mommy and daddy waiting for them. I wonder what they're doing at different points of the day. Are they getting enough to eat? Are they healthy? Are they lonely? Does Lexi understand why she's in the orphanage? Is someone loving my Nathan to sleep? Does he sleep through the night? Who is meeting his needs? Is someone there to rock him back to sleep?

I hope that someone is there to wipe their tears and comfort them... to provide some love, even though it's not the unconditional, eternal kind we long to shower on them. I hope they sense that we are waiting and that we are theirs as much as they are ours.

I need to carry a notebook so I can jot down the random things that I need to remember to pack. I want to put my little girl in dresses, but I need to remember to make them lightweight cotton - no scratchy frou-frou and lace. Bubble bath... Goldfish crackers... Spray-on sunblock for my sweet, bald husband's head... Add it to the list.

Friday, November 23, 2007

In our beginning....

We've been working on adopting for so long that I can't seem to remember when we started. We finally realized we needed to look internationally for our children. Lexi and Nathan were actually the very first profile we were presented. They just seemd to be ours from the very beginning.

Right now, Lexi is 2 and Nathan is 3 months. They are biological siblings. We're going to visit them on January 9th. Our tickets are booked and now we're just counting down. I guess that's the reason for the title on this blog. We're professional waiters at this point. That's what the adoption process does to prospective parents.

Some of the youth from our church are gathering donation items for us to take to the orphanage to help them meet their needs. This afternoon, my sweet neighbor brought us a case of baby formula. So very welcome and needed!

We're struggling to find clothing to take down for the children. It's just the wrong time of year in Utah to find summer children's clothing!

Brent's coworkers decided to hold a bake sale and raised over $350 for us to take to the orphanage. We're very blessed to have people willing to help and support us.