Creating My Own Little Nirvana

Crushed: Enough is Enough

2012-02-11T21:56:00.008-05:00

Friends, I've reached my limit. The pain I'm experiencing far exceeds my ability to deal with it. I'm worried I'll be crushed by it. I'm so confused by what is going in in my life, I feel like I've lost a bit of my sanity. Ever felt like that?

Having two family members attack me and verbally abuse me is bad enough. I get it. I'm out of their lives for good. Do you want to know what it is about? My blog. One of them saw my post the other day requesting emergency donations for Anya and he decided to call another family member to complain about it, instead of telling me directly they were upset by it. Both, it turn, then contacted my mother over it and expressed cocern that I was giving away my dad's books behind her back. When I found out, I did what I thought was right -- I contacted each of them separately and said ' If you have a problem with anything I do or say, contact me DIRECTLY.'

Instead of hearing an apology, I was hit with a horrific spewing of abuse. I was accused of using the money for myself. I was accused of 'making up' the charity. I was told I am an 'embarrassment' and I have 'tarnished the family name.' It gets worse, but I'm too ashamed to post some of the other things they wrote. And evidently offering some of you my father's book as a gift for donating was the biggest 'no-no' of them all. I was 'ruining' his legacy.

I was hit out of left field. I was shocked beyond comprehension. I had never ever thought that accepting donations on behalf of the orphanage or Anya was wrong. I had been giving to similar personal charities myself for years. I could not wrap my head around their accusations.

Today, after yet another scathing email, I felt so crushed and confused, I started thinking 'maybe it is wrong to ask for help' and that maybe they are right about me, I'm an embarrassment. I sobbed myself to sleep.

Then, when I woke up, I went to write a friend a message on facebook. It was there that I saw someone had written me about today's terrible news in Russia.Hit out of left field again. Two for two: Russia is suspending all US adoptions of Russian orphans until our government complies with the bilateral agreement they signed in July. I'm too tired to share the whole sad affair here, but I will try to post some links later. Suffice it to say, my adoption of Daniel is likely off for a long while. I want to throw up.

Did I ever tell you why Daniel's adoption didn't happen on time last year? Probably not, because I knew that the person responsible was reading my blog and I didn't want to hurt her feelings...but now I don't honestly care. Did you know that ONE DAMN MISSING PPR is what kept me from being able to submit my dossier last June? Did you know that my son would be here right now if that one damn family had gotten their PPR in? They apologized to me when they found out they were the cause, told me it was a money issue. Well, if they had swallowed their own pride and asked for help, they would have saved my son from another motherless year in an orphanage. They failed to submit, so my HS agency was blacklisted a month or to before I was headed to Russia. Their laziness cost me MY SON, not to mention the hundred and hundreds of dollars have had to spend since, in re-doing everything from scratch.

I do not think I have been in this much pain in 20 years. Heartbroken. Lost. Bereft. Confused. Devastated. Without consolation. I've prayed till my hands honestly hurt from holding them together for so long. I give up.

One of the two family members who has chosen to kick me while I'm down added that I 'love all the drama' in my life and revel in it. Says I'm the master of manipulation and that Anya's story is, basically a crock of !@$&^. Could you or I anyone even possibly have imagined a storyline like Anya's? Even Shakespeare is less 'dramatic'. It sounds too heart-breaking. It sounds unreal. But too accuse me of pretty much making it up???

I would cut off my right arm if it would end the 'drama' in Anya's life. Anyone who knows me knows that. Can you, for one moment, imagine that someone you thought loved and cared about you actually thinks you to be a liar and a cheat and a host of other horrible things? Please, if you have experienced anything like this, I need to hear from you. I don't know how to get through this. I need help.

I feel like I've been on one of those carnival rides that twist you up and down, and in circles and when the ride is over, the world spins and you cant find your footing. The past 48 hours have been like that for me.

You'd think I'd be an expert as prayer by now, but I can't hear God or see God or feel God in any of this. I pray and pray and pray and there is silence. I'm in a black hole. Maybe He can't find me. God knows I feel invisible enough.

Tell me how you've found him in the blackest of nights. Please.

An Open Letter To My God

2012-02-10T13:59:00.002-05:00

If I had a beautiful voice, I'd sing to you. But I don't. If I had a brilliant mind, I would think magnificent things for you. But I don't. If I were all goodness and purity and perfection, I would wrap myself up for you, just as I am, and give me as a gift.

But I am not those things. I am none of those things.

My immaculate and yielding God, all I have to give you is lost, ugly, wretched, old, useless, dark or broken. What could you want with those things? I'm a torment of want and waste. There is nothing of value in this sullied frame that I can gift to you. Nothing but ash and dust.

All I can give you are my intentions to be good and kind and pure and unbroken and beautiful and light. I fail so miserably at it. Why would you want to be there for me? Why? What is in it for you? What could you possibly get from such a terribly ill-formed, ill-wrought creature? I am so unworthy of anything you offer. I am fat, old, ugly, useless, and broken broken broken. So broken. Unfixable -- it feels unfixable. My hands are empty. I have nothing to give you, and that makes me so very sad.

God, there are family members who have wounded me in a way I do not know how to fix. How utterly heart-breaking it is to be falsely accused. It is a cold and terrible thing. A knife that remains fixed in place, and will not move. I cry out to you, My God, for help. I put both hands over this wound to staunch the bleeding, but the grief pours out and out as if there is no end.

This is such a old wound, torn open a thousand times over my lifetime. You have been witness to it. You know. What can I do to heal it, my God? How can I protect myself from another thrust of the blade? Deceit and hate swirl around me like a choking haze of smoke. I feel like it would be easier to simple not be. To circle back on life, like a pull-string, and coil back into nothingness, so deep and primary and malicious is this wound.

I want to understand why I am so hated and reviled. I want to understand why one chose to call me 'an embarrassment'. What have I done? You know my heart. How can I be so wrongly judged? How can someone whom I have carried and nurtured in childhood, someone I at times protected from others, someone I have prayed for and hoped for these many years -- how can such a person so outrightly and so completely misunderstand the very soul of who I am?

I am calling to you. I feel so lost and hurt and angry and bereft. I feel a grief not unlike mourning. I cannot stop weeping. Hear me. Please, my Lord and My God, turn your ear towards me and listen. I cannot walk this road without you. Teach me understanding and acceptance and forgiveness. Put your hand on this gushing wound and heal it.

Be here with me. Hold my heart.

Stop the Presses!!!

2012-02-06T13:26:00.002-05:00

In less than 11 hours a total of $690 came in to the Anya Fund via the paypal link. ELEVEN HOURS. I wish I could express in words what I'm feeling right now, but I am truly too stunned.

THANK YOU for caring for Anya financially when I can't. Thank you for taking time out of your day to read my post and respond. Thank you for trusting me, a stranger to many of you, and giving me your hard-earned dollars for a girl you do not know, living thousands of miles away.

I have MORE than enough to send her now, so no more donations are needed. I even have enough to send her money next month! And after that I should be in better shape financially myself.

'Besides, God is able to make every blessing overflow for you, so that in every situation you will always have all you need for any good work.'

~ 2 Corinthians 9:8 (italics mine)

Calling All Kind Souls!

2012-02-06T00:39:00.004-05:00

Last book my Dad had published. Very funny

I need your help. Received a frantic message from Anya tonight. Once I reached her on skype, I couldn't even get her calm enough to tell me what was wrong, she just kept crying, and she was hysterical. She told me she knew she was going to die, and then we got cut off. Talk about anxiety.

Well, after trying skype over and over every single minute, I finally reached her again for exactly 60 seconds. It turns out she has not been back to the hospital since she was released. she was supposed to go for bi-weekly visits. Why didn't she go? Money. She thought she was helping me by ignoring the doctor because then she wouldn't have to ask me for more money. Well, her leg got terribly infected and she was forced to go.( I'm guessing that Ira made her.)

It was so bad they admitted her. She's there now. The doctor was furious with her and told her she nearly lost her leg. He threatened her with sending her to a hospital 3 hours away for people with missing limbs. He was trying to scare her and it worked. (That is why she had told me earlier that she thought she was going to die.)

Anyway, she was sobbing and said she now had to ask me for more money, and she was so ashamed. I was just so grateful it was something I could actually help her with!

So, since I am sadly unemployed for the 4th month in a row, I do not have the extra funds to send. But I do have these great books my Dad wrote. They have never even been in bookstores yet, because my dad passed away before he had them distributed. They fell into my hands, and I have boxes of them.

For anyone who can make a donation over $20 to the Anya Fund in the next 24 hours (paypal button in the right hand column of this blog) I will send you a copy of this book. Just put your address in the 'note' when you donate.

I need to send her $500, so if I can get 25 people to donate, I'll have it covered. I know I don't have much time, as I'll need to send her the funds tomorrow, but I've seen bigger miracles happen. And just think, I'll be creating a new audience of readers of my dad's books at the same time!

Thank you all! Sorry if this is really scattered and confusing to read. It's been a scary night and I'm shaking and covered in hives while I write this! Need to go calm myself down:)

What I've been Meaning to Say Is....

2012-02-03T00:09:00.002-05:00

I have started no less than six different posts this week, but I write a few sentences and just lose interest. I can't decided if it is due to exhaustion, laziness, partial writer's block or my worry that I'm a terribly boring writer. It's likely a bit of all of those, but whatever the reason, it's driving me crazy.

I want to want to write. Does that make sense?

I want to share what I'm thinking and experiencing, but the minute I start to express it in typed form, I shut down. I really blog for the sense of community, but I don't really hear from many people, so then I lose interest, I guess.

But I also doubt my ability. I read other blogs that are so inspiring and heartwarming and funny and interesting, and then I always find myself thinking 'I can't write like that -- why even bother?'

I also worry about always sounding down. It's a tough year and I really have to work hard to find uplifting or inspiring things to write about when really all I want to do is sleep and eat. I don't want to blog if it's not going to help someone. I just don't see the purpose of public complaining -- unless, of course, it's funny.

So the best I can do is give you a list of the things I started to post about but chickened out on. First was the post about Nastia's new interest in art, and all the changes I'm seeing in her through this new obsession.

Then there was the sad one about her recent obsession with my death. I know that's been reignited from the movie she saw last week, but it's getting positively depressing. All day long I hear 'Where will I go when you die? Who will take care of me? Why can't I die with you? Why do you have to die? You probably only have five years left. I'll be homeless, I know it. I don't want you to die, mommy...' I just endured 45 minutes of this in her room, in the dark. She finally fell asleep.

Then there was going to be the truthful albeit humorous post about the perils of peri-menopause. You know, that time of life when you become a complete basketcase with no working memory, but extra stores of rage, death-like exhaustion and itchy skin that you want to tear off your body. You know, the time of life when you cry and cry and cry for no reason at all, and even your pets think you're crazy.

Then I was going to write about unemployment, and what it feels like for a first-timer like me. The debilitating fear. The feelings of unworthiness. The monotony. The loss of work joy. (Yes, there is such a thing. I had insane amounts of work joy, and it's gone...)

Another half-written post was about what witty things to say back to all those ignorant people who say really stupid things to your face about adoption. Like the woman who asked if I had any of my OWN children, or just 'HER' [said while gesturing to my daughter, who was standing there] That's a post I definitely want to finish at some point.

I can't remember the other almost-posts off-hand because, well, my memory is shot to hell. But I know there were others.

If any of you reading this have any feedback, I'd love to hear it. Like, if you are in that awful peri-menopausal time of life and don't recognize yourself, ~~I'd like to know.~~ I need to know.

Or if you have witty comebacks for any of those horrible things people say when you're an adoptive parent, I'd really like to hear them. And write them down on index cards. And laminate them. And put them in my purse. Because I'm definitely of a mind to say them these days, even if it means reading them off a cue card.

An Anya & Orphanage Update

2012-01-30T17:48:00.004-05:00

Kisses from Anya...in gratitude for your cards and letters

I've been skyping with Anya more regularly -- about 3 times a week. I'm so relieved she is staying at her friend Ira's house and hope that doesn't change for awhile. I can see via skype that it is a clean, fairly modern apartment. I didn't realize how worried I was about her staying at her cousin's, until she moved to Ira's. Oksana, her 1st cousin once removed on her father's side, lives with an older man names Sasha in a very tiny cottage down a dirt road. I think I mentioned before that it had no bathroom, just an outside toilet, and was very run-down and inaccessible. It wasn't so bad when Anya was mobile, but since the shooting, it's become a tough place for her to live. She even started to admit that to me, which is not something she is wont to do -- she's far too proud.

So, her spirits seem up, but she does remind me often how lonely she is. I tell her we will visit as soon as I get back on my feet financially. She knows I'm trying my best. She is such a sweetheart; every conversation we have she manages to turn the tables and ask me all the questions. How am I? Am I sure I'm okay? How is my health? Am I eating right and taking my vitamins? She's my own little baboushka:)

Please let me know if you have sent, or will be sending a card to Anya. It is helpful for her to know. Although Ira lives in an apartment, it is still in the same neighborhood and it is very crime-prone. If they know a letter or card is on its way, they will watch the mail more carefully. Packages are safe, because they are not delivered to homes, but to the local post office.

The orphanage is another story altogether. Their internet service has never been fixed, so I cannot email them. I've called and not had good service for weeks...no connection. It seems to happen every winter. Perhaps the weather is a factor? None of the older kids have been on Russian facebook since December, so I can't get any news about anything. I DO know that photos were taken on January 7th of the Feast...I just don't know when we'll get to see them.
I do have some photos of the older orphanage kids that Vanya sent me in late December/early January. Just forgot to post them! Some are a year old, some are from this past summer. I'll write a description under each. Enjoy:)

Natasha, Vika, Nastia, Alina and Marina on their graduation day last May.
They are 16 years old. Some have already left the orphanage for good.
Natasha and Marina remain for now, as they have no place else to go.

Sidozha, Andrei and Marina outside their school on graduation day.

A photo of last year's Thanksgiving dinner in the boys group.
That is Stas in the no-sleeve shirt. You can just make out D
at the table behind him, standing and leaning over the table.

More of the graduates. This was taken just inside the school.
None of these kids have hope of a job, except the boys that get
jobs as coalminers. But their life expectancy is about the same
in the mines or out. Most of these kids will not see
their 30th birthday. Sobering fact.

PTSD, I HATE YOU

2012-01-23T16:46:00.004-05:00

Feeling defeated. And down.

PTSD rears it's ugly head again. I forget. I forget how one false move can bring the world crashing down around you. I forget that it never goes away. I forget that this terrible fear and trauma will haunt her the rest of her days.

I can't give details, because, as you know, I've promised my girl not to share those kinds of things anymore. She's older. She doesn't want her dirty laundry airing, and I don't blame her. But can I say this? Can I say that sometimes I get so angry that people don't get it? I want to scream.

A certain child of mine was taken, without my permission, to see a very very upsetting movie. I know it's a wonderful movie. I had planned to see it myself. But it is NOT the kind of movie that should be seen by someone who has experienced a lifetime of profound loss.

The movie is 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close'. I can't even comment on it, because I haven't seen it yet. But I see the repercussions it's having on someone who DID see it, and it's not fun. Regression, in all its forms, is visiting us again. Grief, deep grief. Nightmares and fears of losing me. And the added bonus of her fear at not being 'normal' that she did not want to see that movie. She knew. She knew just from seeing the commercials that it was not a movie she wanted to see. She even tried to encourage the group to see something else, but in the end she was more scared of appearing different, than she was of the terrible feelings she knew this movie would elicit.

I'm angry. Really, really angry. I'll get over it, but right now I'm absolutely raging mad, because I wasn't asked. I wasn't given the chance to inform anyone that, no, this movie was not a wise choice for my daughter. I wasn't consulted. Heck, I didn't even know she was at the movies!

So now, on the eve of her midterms, and after a week of problems at school, she is in full-blown PTSD mode. Yes, I know what to do. I know how to move into crisis mode and do what needs to be done. But I didn't choose this. Not now. Not when I feel so raw and beaten down myself.

Don't know what else to say without betraying her trust. Please remind me of your own ways of dealing with the PTSD monster. You 'trauma mama' readers out there -- what would you do in this situation? Any new wisdom? I'd love to hear, and would just love your support right now.

Going upstairs to enter the warzone, again.....

The Proverbial Bucket List

2012-01-20T22:14:00.003-05:00

I've been in a slump. A deep one. The kind that you think you'll never crawl out of unless via divine intervention. Being out of work is hard for me. It's not that I don't enjoy the free time. It's just that I feel so completely fulfilled by my work. Take that away, and you've quite an empty pocket to fill.

I am being very productive with this time -- organizing closets and drawers, being an ultra-attentive mom, cooking and baking more, reading books, taking care of all the mundane tasks I never usually get to.... but it's not enough. I experience so much joy being with my students. That's gone right now.

I'm trying to follow Ann Voskamp's example. I'm trying to be grateful every day for what is here, now. But I'd be lying if I said that was easy. I might be successful for a morning, but by noon I'm often counting curses instead of blessings.

And it's quiet. Soooo quiet.

Nastia is in school, the dogs are in hibernation mode. Friends are busy with their own lives. I get it. Life goes on. But I can't help feeling a little left behind. It's not a feeling I'm used to.

And so, with eyes gazing hopeful towards the future, I started making one of those proverbial bucket lists. If I can't have what I want and need now, at least I can dream some tomorrows into being.

Here's the list. It's not flashy or shiny, but it's mine. I don't want to climb Mount Everest or win the lottery, so you might find my list a little boring in that respect. But it's an honest list, and that must count for something. I actually feel quite vulnerable sharing it, but all the more reason to do so. Naming things gives them more solidity, more substance. I'm naming my deepest dreams to prod their little seedselves to take root.

THE LIST

1. See Anya sitting across from me at my kitchen table, US passport in hand.
2. See D sleeping soundly in his bed. Here. On this side of the world.
3. Watch Nastia receiving her HS diploma, to wild applause.
4. Creat & nurture SOAR, the nonprofit I've envisioned.
5. Adopt more children. (Please, God?)
6. Be the inspiration for other adoptions.
7. Become a certified emergency foster parent.
8. Buy a house in Siberia for children aging out of the orphanage.
9. Write a book.
10. Meet Nastia's birthmother before she dies.
11. See Africa with my own eyes. Visit the tiny Ethiopian village where my father used to live.

Asmara, Ethiopia where my dad used to live. (now Eritrea)

12. Visit my ancestral home in Ireland again. With my daughter.
13. See India with my own eyes.
14. See Nastia graduate from college, to even wilder applause.
15. Build my own cob house and live in it.
16. Educate and empower the local community in Siberia to fix the system and get ALL the children of Orphanage #5 into homes.
17. Finally speak Russian fluently.
18. Go on an adventure overseas with all my brothers and their children & spouses.
19. Find a kind and open-hearted Catholic man to love and marry.
20. Join a barbershop quartet for women, like my cousin.
21. Sleep just one more night at Hengrave. (A place I used to live, in England)
22. See Iceland with my own eyes.
23. Visit the Aran Islands, and sleep in a JM Synge's cottage there. Read his stories as I fall asleep.

Synge's cottage.

24. Take the Trans-Siberian railway, stopping along the way.
25. See one of my students perform with Shakespeare's Globe or the Royal Shakespeare company, before I die.
26. Live in Florence Italy for a month.
27. Take my godsons Josh & Drew on an overseas trip, just the three of us.
28. Edit and publish my father's last book before I turn 50.
29. Cliche, I know, but...swim with dolphins.
30. Gaze into the eye of a whale, underwater.

See? It can be done. But I want to do it without a camera. Just me and the whale.

I'm sure I could think of dozens more if I tried, but these are the ones that came effortlessly. What's on your list? Do you have one? Will you share it with me?

News From Afar!

2012-01-20T19:15:00.001-05:00

Screenshot of Anya on Skype. She added the words:)

Thank you God, for finally providing Anya with a way to contact me after weeks and weeks!

Update: Anya has been invited to stay at the home of her friend Ira (pronounced EE-rah for any non-Rusophiles) for a few weeks. This is a GOOD THING.Where Anya was staying was not sanitary, had no bathroom, and she was in a very small room with two other adults. No privacy at all. Ira lives with her parents and their home offers Anya a little more safety and privacy. Ira also lets Anya use the family's mini-notebook (like a laptop) when her parents dont need it for work, so I got to skype with her for the first time in WEEKS today! Here's what she shared:

She has been told that the Llizarov Apparatus will be removed in late March or early April if all goes well. She has currently had it on for almost 6 months. She is still in a great deal of pain, but tells me she is not taking the pain meds, #1 because she doesnt want to become addicted and #2 to save money. But I can see how much pain she is in when I talk to her. She has to have the screws turned in her leg every day.

Not having daily internet access has been rough for her. We were skyping every day. she reports she is very lonely -- Ira is at school all day and the parents work..plus no TV, means she is alone with her thoughts most of the time...not good for Anya. However, she thinks she will have weekly access to the laptop, so thats a good thing.

She still has no word on when the court case will happen. She is worried, because she knows we will have a small window of time to get her here on the medical visa (if approved), and also that if she heals too much, she won't be eligible at all. So she hopes the case will come soon.

If of my readers can write in Russian and wish to write her, I know that cards and letters will lift her spirits. You could also send a card in English, I suppose, as long as it is VERY simple and not written in cursive. Anya has very rudimentary English skills, but a simple 'hello, how are you' type of message is something she could likely read.

And just in case anyone feels really motivated, she can finally receive packages. She was unable to receive them at the other place she was staying. It's a long story, but the Russian Post is a bit more complicated than ours. Anya and her 'cousin' were not registered at that house, making it difficult to receive mail.

Ira is willing to receive mail in Anya's behalf, and she IS registered at her adress. Any care packages must be worth under $25 so Ira won't have to pay custom fees. Here is Ira's address:

IRINA YURIVNA BROVKO
YURI SMIRNOV STREET 16
FLOOR 1, APARTMENT 12
650002 KEMEROVO
RUSSIA

All packages and cards would need to be addressed as above, so that Ira can pick them up at the post office. I can also post a list of things I know Anya loves. , if anyone would like. She hasn't asked for anything, which is typical of her. When I asked if she needed more funds for her meds, bandages, creams, etc, she replied with 'Mama, take care of yourself. I will be fine. Do not waste your money.' But I do know a card, letter or small package would REALLY boost her spirits, primarily because it means she is being thought of.

I'll continue to post information as I receive it from Anya. She looks great, and the color is back in her cheeks for a change, but she did admit that she feels very lonely alot of the time. Just a simple card will surely help alleviate some of that, I'm sure!

Anya with Ira, July 2011

Quick Break in My 'Fast' - For Amelia Rivera

2012-01-13T22:47:00.003-05:00

I shouldn't be surprised. Every time I try to 'fast' from blogger and facebook, something really urgent draws me back. Such is the case today. A friend emailed this story to me, of a friend of a friend, and my heart was just shattered. I knew I had to post about it and get more people involved. Very briefly, this is Amelia Rivera (aka Mia)

She is almost three years old and has Wolf-Hirschorn Syndrome, a rare genetic condition that causes cognitive impairment. Amelia also has kidney failure, and she needs a transplant.Her mom posted a heartbreaking story today about their recent visit to the doctor whom they thought would perform the transplant. He informed them this week that he will not. Why? Because, in his exact words, he does not find her eligible because she is 'mentally retarded' and therefore has no quality of life.Ok, after you pick your jaw up off the floor, you can go read the story yourself. You can read it here.

There is a petition you can sign at change.org urging the hospital to allow Amelia's transplant.Please, go and sign it. There is also the hospital in question's facebook page here. You can stop by there and post what you think about this doctor's discrimination.

I'm going to be honest at the risk of getting nasty comments,but... I actually took it a step further and I emailed the doctor directly at the hospital and also located him on facebook and wrote him a private message.

Don't worry, I wasn't rude. I was honest and to the point. I'm sure some of you will think that went too far, but that's your opinion. If you've read my blog long enough, you know I am brazenly outspoken about things close to my heart. Hearing of a doctor in OUR country in THIS day and age so blatantly prejudiced against an innocent child because of her cognitive impairment literally made me sick. I was nauseous reading the mother's account. To me, this doctor's attitude is no better than that of those Nazi doctors in the last century who rationalized their child killings by explaining that 'infirm' children were 'not worthy of life.'

I need to go now. I am covered in hives. Why? Because just the idea that this American doctor is putting the life of a beautiful little girl in jeopardy because he has decided to play God...just... no words. I can't wrap my head around it.

Please go add your words of support. Sign the petition. Email the hospital. Do what you can to make the message LOUD AND CLEAR: Every life is sacred.

Even yours, Dr Jorge Baluarte -- as much as I hate to admit it right now --even yours.

I HATE To Do This, But...

2012-01-09T16:52:00.001-05:00

Time to get to work. ( yes, that's me in skinnier days)

I haven't been very honest with all of you. As bright and sunny as my world may seem from your perspective, it has not been so. It has been dark and getting darker. I have been out of work since November and struggling to find work in my very narrow field of expertise for many months. I had enough saved to keep me afloat, but now that money has run out and I'm borrowing money to live on to keep from having to dig in to my adoption funds for D. So, I hate to do this, but I'm signing off for a bit.

This steady unemployment is new territory for me, so it has been very uncomfortable. My company has flourished for over 20 years, but now, due to the economy, it has suffered a huge blow -- my school year residencies have completely dried up. I'm now having to do extreme self-promotion and cold-calling (yuck), something I haven't done in decades, but I know it will pay off.

Here's the problem. I have SUCH a love for and commitment to the world of orphans, orphan causes, adoption causes, etc that I am spending a great deal of my time keeping updated on these issues, reading blogs, commenting on blogs, posting on facebook, fundraising for the orphanage, posting about the orphanage, keeping in touch with the orphanage kids, etc. For months now I have done this knowing that my focus should be completely on securing new jobs. It is not fair to Nastia or to D (or Anya!) that I am giving all my time to these causes while potentially putting their future security in jeopardy. I don't have a husband to lean on, or a trust fund to dip into. This single mom has only herself to rely on (well, God too, but that goes without saying...)

I need to take a real break from facebook and blogging for awhile. I'm thinking a month, but it all depends on what kind of work I can rustle up. I know myself well enough to know that if something really important comes up, of course I will post. For example, if I ever get photos from the orphanage chronicling their big feast of 2 days ago, I'll be SURE to post!

But for now I need to try to narrow my focus to work only. I WISH I could make a living being an advocate for orphans, but I don't see any job listings for that anywhere..and I've looked! So, for now, I need to discipline my wayward, unfocused self and do the unpleasant but right thing -- give all my energy to making some money and rebuilding my business.

If you are a regular contributor to the Anya fund, I really appreciate that and hope you'll still keep doing so, despite my bloggy silence for awhile. I cannot afford to send Anya her monthly $200 anymore unless I start digging into the little I have saved for my next adoption-related payment. You know me well enough to know I'll dig in if I have to -- I'll never let Anya go without. But my taking that money earmarked for D's adoption seems unfair. It's so little as it is! So, thank you to those consistent Anya donors. I know some of you send only $5/$10 every single month...and I want you to know that it truly makes a difference and I am grateful beyond measure.

Hopefully this time next month I'll have news of some new teaching jobs and, even better, news of my USCIS pre-approval for D! sorry I won't get to visit your blogs either for a bit, but I'll be back! You can be SURE of that!

PS: I will keep contact via Russian facebook with the two orphanage kids that are on there. I wouldn't be fair to them to cut contact, but I'm going to limit it to once a week instead of every day. Once a week is enough for now, I think.

Stay well and healthy, and see you in a month or so! If you have an urgent need to reach me about something, please go the email route, as I won't be coming here after tomorrow. My email is kericahill34 (@) (gmail) (dot.com.)

Off to see the Wizard about a job.

Russian Christmas Feast is ON!

2012-01-05T20:56:00.002-05:00

If you're up about 2am eastern standard time tonight, and you bend your ear towards southern Siberia, you might just catch the joyful chatter of the kids from Orphanage #5 sitting around their little wobbly dinner tables, laughing and feasting on turkey, chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and carrots, bread with butter (a real treat for them), lots of fresh fruit, pies and cakes, honest-to-goodness juice instead of tea, and sweets..all kinds of sweets:)

Yesterday morning I had gotten the news from Vanya, of my earlier post, that the staff never received the money I sent and that there would be no dinner. I should have guessed that relying on a teenage boy for accurate news of an important financial transaction was bound to be a wrong. But I just panicked. I called Western Union, and after an eon of being on hold, I learned it was indeed picked up a few days ago by the person I sent it to. {Sigh of relief.}

I had never heard back from the orphanage staff after sending them the code on December 20th. I had also sent a list of things I expected them to make for the dinner, and specifics on what to do if there were any money left over. (Buy sweets for the staff for pulling off the dinner. They have to work extra hours for free to pull it off) So, I was worried and fairly stressed for a few days, wondering what had happened.

Natasha, the bearer of the good news:)

Cue helpful contact with one of the older girls via russian facebook. Natasha saw me online and wished me a Happy Christmas, so I was able to live chat with her and ask a bundle of questions. (Natasha is also one of the top students at the local school, so it's safe to say she might be a bit more reliable than Vanya..lol.) She explained that there is a problem, still, with the internet. She said they were able to read and print out my emails from Dec 20th, but then the internet 'froze' again and they've had no access since. She also told me that the assistant director received the money, AND she told me that they were already setting up the tables and doing preliminary prep work in the kitchen! Turns out that they will hold the dinner tomorrow (tonight to us here in the US) because some of the kids go home to relatives or friends for the holiday weekend. Having the dinner tomorrow (tonight at 2am!) assures that most of the children will be present.

I have no idea when they'll be able to email photos to me since the internet is such a problem, but I asked Natasha to report back to me about how it went as soon as she can. She is going to stay at a friend's for the holiday weekend, so she said she'd likely write me on Monday.

Wish I had photos to share! Well, I guess I could post a few of the kitchen. Not a very big space to cook for 100 plus, but it seems to work for them! Will post details of the feast as soon as I can!

С Рождеством, дорогие мои!

The stove at the orphanage.

Nastia and the cook's daughter helping to cook last winter.
(Nastia's eyes are closed, but I promise she was awake.)

2012 - The Year of Stark-Naked Blessings

2012-01-02T00:22:00.007-05:00

We've all heard the somber warnings about 2012. End of the world. Apocalypse. Yada yada yada. I tend to think that those Mayans -- and all those other forward-thinking ancients who made prophecies about 2012 -- were intuiting about big changes. MONUMENTAL changes.

Humanity as a whole seems ever inclined to painfully slow growth. Like continental drift slow. But, you have to admit, there are times in history when we seem to take huge leaps forward. My ~~guess~~ hope is that all those prophecies and prognostications signal that kind of a leap, and I'm hoping it's of a spiritual nature. A collective reaching up towards Love.

Anyway, if truth be told, I am a little superstitious when it comes to New Year's Day. I always see the happenings of the first day as somewhat symbolic of the year ahead. (Blame my Irish grandmother.) That is why I was pretty darn agitated when our day started with a lot of frustration and obstacles -- the alarm failed to go off, I woke up to a zit on my chin (a zit at my age?), our fridge was empty, all our favorite breakfast places were closed for the holiday, the car engine light went on...you get the picture.

So I told Nastia about my little weird superstition as we drove to the mall, and she laughed at me.

'Oh mom, you're soooo crazy. You're just grumpy. Look for the good stuff!'

And so, as we walked into Sears to buy our new vacuum cleaner, we saw an elderly lady standing unsteadily at the bottom of the stairs we were about to descend. She was smiling right at us.

'Seeeeee.....?' whispered my daughter.

We started walking down the stairs as she walked up. Her smile breathed new life into my day. I was feeling hopeful, jubilant even. As we met in the middle, the smiling woman stopped to catch her breath and addressed us . 'Don't ever get old, you two. It stinks. It REALLY REALLY stinks!' And she continued up the stairs as my daughter fell into a fit of laughter.

Later, as we left the store using those same stairs, Nastia recounted the story of the old lady and laughed. 'Mom, she probably said that just because you were looking for the bad. You gotta look for the good, like me!'

My daughter, buoyant with her new-found optimism, runs to hold open the door for a young mother dragging a perturbed-looking toddler by the hand. As the door opens, we hear the boy mid-tantrum:

'I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!' He is directing this tirade at his mother.

Nastia barely makes it past them before she bursts out in hysterics. 'Okay mom, I guess you're right. maybe there are a lot of bad signs today, but maybe God is trying to tell us something.Remember what you tell me, there is always a blessing in disguise.'

Note: Nastia and I have a running commentary on 'blessings in disguise' She thinks the very idea is ridiculous. I know it is almost always the case. Last week I sat at my kitchen table discussing 'blessings in disguise' with an out-of-work friend who was struggling to see any blessing in his current state of unemployment. Nastia chirped in from the other room in a very loud voice,

'BLESSINGS IN DISGUISE ARE STUPID! If I WAS A BLESSING, I'D JUST RUN AROUND NAK*D!'

I've laughed at and pondered her declaration all week. Tonight it came to me -- I want 2012 to be my NAK*D blessing year. God knows I've had enough of the disguised kind. Now I'm on the lookout for straightforwardly au naturel, totally exposed, stark-nak*d blessings. 2012, let's see that patootie!

Note: I had to take out the full word (n8ked) because I was getting thousands of google hits from men searching the words RUSSIAN and GIRL(s) and N8ked. GROSS.

You Did It! Christmas Feast On!!

2011-12-22T13:34:00.001-05:00

'OMG, I can't believe I get to experience another FEAST!'

You did it! How do I thank you? In less than 24 hours you, my readers, came up with over $500 for the Christmas Feast! I AM SO EXCITED! Close to $600 came in -- but I had forgotten I'll have to pay a hefty fee for sending the $500 via Western Union tomorrow, so thank God a bit more did come in!

I called the orphanage very late last night to give them the news. And then I found Vanya (the boy I wrote about a few days ago) on vkontakte (Russian Facebook) and I told him and asked him to spread the word!

Today I will write a long email to the Assistant Director spelling out what exactly they should do with this money. I'll make sure to be clear that ALL of it is to be spent on the 'Feast' day. if they have some left over after buying all the food, then they can spend some on decorations or extra candy and treats, I just want to make sure there is an abundance of food first, and that every single child there feels FULL at the end of the day!

I'm also strongly urging them to take photos so they can email them to me eventually and I can then pass them on to you! Russian Christmas is January 7th, so we've got to wait a bit. but I'm sending the funds tomorrow so they can start purchasing what they need now. After all, this is a Feast for over a hundred people!

By the way, my daughter spoke to the new Director and said she sounded very nice. (I was too embarrassed to talk to her, because I've never met her and I've been told I make lots of mistakes with my verb tenses when talking in Russian. I didn't want her to think I was an idiot..lol! Need to impress her since I'll be adopting from there very soon!)

I will be sure to send out thank you emails to all of you (if you haven't received one already) once I am in Florida. For now I've got packing and cleaning to do, so I better get to work!

Again, huge thanks!

I am overjoyed these kids will have a full belly and a day to remember forever!

'Did you say I'm getting a day off from this relentless SOUP?
You're my HEROES!

An Orphanage Christmas Feast!

2011-12-21T14:20:00.002-05:00

Nastia , last December, modeling the Father Christmas suit we bought for the orphanage.

I wrote the orphanage weeks ago about providing funds for a Christmas Feast for the children. Usually for Christmas they get only a small piece of candy. No presents, no party, no special meal. Nothing. But last year we held a huge Thanksgiving Feast and also left money for a smaller Christmas dinner to be held after we left. We also bought small gifts for every single child, bought an artificial Christmas tree that they can use every year, as well as a 'Father Christmas" Suit and a "Snegorishka" Suit.

Anya, last December, modeling the Snegorichka costume we bought the orphanage.

Today I received this email:

"Hello Keri!

Thank you very much for not forgetting us. V received a parcel from his family, and D was given the letter you sent, he was very happy with it and he waiting for his mother (You). D also printed the photo you sent on the printer you gave us! Keri! We now have a new director . Her name is ___________. We had talked to her about the transfer of money for Christmas that you spoke of. She will be very glad to help. The children are always asking when we will celebrate Christmas with KERI! They are waiting for treats (chicken, and sweets, as in that big dinner of last year). We are so sorry that took so long to write to you, we had much difficulty with the problem of Internet. Keri, we strongly, strongly miss you, love you , wait for you ... All the children thought it a great pass, and D sends his love ....
HAPPY NEW YEAR! MUCH LOVE, WAITING FOR YOU!"

So, would you like to be a part of this wonderful dinner? I can't do it alone. I only even made the offer to them knowing that if I put the word out, many of you would be overjoyed to help! All you have to do is:

Click on the paypal donation button over on the top right of this blog. Send a few dollars, whatever you can afford. And also put " Christmas Feast" in the subject line or note area when you send the funds. I will have to collect the funds by the 28th and send them 'western union' from Florida, as i"ll be there visiting my mom for Christmas.

Sending it to them by the 28th insures that they will have time to collect the

money and go shopping before Russian Christmas. Every dollar really does help!

Anya and Nastia, last December, decorating the Christmas Tree we bought for the orphanage.

Funny Little Tale to Tell

2011-12-21T00:38:00.003-05:00

Well, it wasn't funny while it was happening!

This is Vanya. On the right.

He lives at orphanage number 5 and is 16 years old. he'll be leaving the orphanage in June. He has known no other life.

So, Vanya has an inactive 'Russian Facebook' page. I mean, he created it last year, but I have never seen him on it. ever. Well, today when I logged on, I saw that he was logged on too! I quickly messaged him and we started talking about anything and everything that was happening at the orphanage. Like, did he know why the former Director was fired? No, he did not. Did he know the name of the New Director that started this week? Yes, he did. Did he think she was nice? He didn't have enough time to decide that yet, he said.

Vanya trying out Nastia's laptop when we were there in June.

As we talked, I posted photos of him on his Facebook wall. He got really excited. (Photos are a luxury for these kids.) As I posted them, he quickly typed a running commentary on each one. But as I read one response, I started to get sick to my stomach. With my limited Russian, it sounded like he said that the other guy in the photo was dead. Then he added that three others had died too, and it was due to some kind of smoke inhalation. I was freaking out.

I called Nastia up from the laundry room to read it.

'Tell me what this says to you...'

She replied, 'Umm, something about people dying from smoke inhalation.'

I panicked. I moved my conversation with Vanya off his wall and into a private message. I typed furiously: Who died? How did they die? When did it happen?

Vanya ,center, with Sergey, Sidozha and other boys from the orphanage. June 2011.

There is a long pause while I wait for his response. And then a series of 'smile' icons appears. Then I read his next message, 'No, they didn't die.Yet'

What was he trying to say? I was still so confused.

And then he typed another series of smile icons and then the words 'but they WILL. From too much smoking.'

Then it all came barreling back to me. In June I had given these same boys hell for smoking so much. Everytime we walked outside, there they were - cigarettes dangling out of their mouths. I had explained then, in my limited Russian vocabulary, that they would all shorten their lives by smoking. A lot. They were ruining their lungs, they were gambling with a host of diseases, and they would lose. Not to mention the cost of a smoking habit. I asked them how on earth they could even afford such a habit. They just laughed and laughed at me, and tried to give me a cigarette. In the end, I just warned them to keep cigarettes away from D, or there would be hell to pay when I came back.

Vanya, being the prankster that he is, was trying to be funny. He didn't realize that with my limited Russian skills that the humor and sarcasm would not translate for me. When he said these boys were dead, I took that at face value. It had knocked the wind out of me.

Vanya and some of the other kids trying out Kim's computer.

Anyway, he had a really good laugh at my expense, and I was able to find it funny too...once my heart moved back into my chest. It was great to talk to him, remind him that I still think about all of them, and that I pray for them. He was pretty impressed that I rattled off the names of everyone in the photos I sent him. And, even though this boy is exacerbating and troublemaking, and full of bravado when he is surrounded by the other kids --here online he was not. He must have written 'thank you!' a dozen times for each photo I posted. And then, before I signed off, he thanked me for taking the time to talk to him.

These are the things that give me hope. This kid is considered a lost cause by the staff. In the insanity of running that place, none of them has the time to stop and take notice that there is a heart in there. That this kid has potential. They see only the troublemaker.

But just extend a welcoming hand, show them that they matter in even the very smallest way, and sometimes there is a window into them. Sometimes gratitude. Sometimes you get a glimpse of what they really are under all that protective armor. Pretty amazing.

I want to give each one of them a leg up.I want the kids like Vanya to know they are not forgotten. We all deserve to know we matter. Especially the 'least of these'. Even the 'troublemakers' and the mischievous ones who cause my heart to jump out of my chest once in awhile. They all matter, and we can show them so easily. Don't you agree?

Hey you, Photo-Stealer -- STOP!

2011-12-18T19:33:00.003-05:00

So you've come back, photo stealer from Champaign, IL. You came back 3 times since I've reopened my blog. I figured you would, but I did NOT figure that you'd have the audacity to take more photos. Ever heard of "do unto others..."? What gives? Why would you do something that is so blatantly illegal?

So, you took more photos of me and D. The only ones I left up. Just know that I paid to have your personal info tracked and I heard only 2 days ago that they had a successful dig. I'll have your name, address and phone number tomorrow. Don't worry -I don't plan to use it .....unless you continue to steal. So, STOP!

I guess I need to go back and censor my blog even more for the time being. Don't people like this KNOW that 'what goes around comes around?" You are in for a big surprise if you continue to steal my photos.

This Is Katya

2011-12-18T17:14:00.003-05:00

This is Katya. I first met her in March 2005 when I was adopting Nastia. She was in Nastia's "Groupa' and she was about to turn 16. She stood out to me because she was smart, inquisitive, and a great advocate for herself. The first time I met her, she asked me through the translator 'I don't have much time left..do you think you could find me a family before I turn 16?'

I'm sure you all know me well enough by now to know that I got to work on her request the second I landed back in the US. And I DID find a family for her -- my friend Francie. However, when we contacted my adoption agency about starting the process, they told us they 'looked into it' and that the time frame was just too narrow. I was naive -- I took them at their word. Knowing how things work now, I know it could have been done. It has been done in that time frame. The agency just wasn't interested in working so quickly for a child of that age. A year later I found out they hadn't even inquired about her. They lied.

So, I kept in touch with Katya via letters that year. When I returned with Nastia to visit a year later (on our trip to meet Anya), she was gone. She had 'aged out.' No one knew where she was. A 17 year old out in the world by herself. I can't imagine what she endured that first year out.

But sometimes persistence pays off and God lends a hand, and people we lost are found. On this last trip we took to the orphanage, in June 2011, Katya was there! I had asked the Director, before every visit between 2005 and 2011 to please try and find Katya and a few of the other girls from Nastia's group. She had never had luck. But somehow she had found Katya this time, and she surprised me with her visit in June!

Katya showed up, with a child in tow. She had recently gotten engaged to the father, and was very proud to show off her little boy, Arkasha.(Yes, I know: not the most flattering photo of me, but I was jet lagged and had no access to a shower for two days...) We caught up, and she gave me a gift - a photo of her son, and asked me to be his godmother. She filled me in on all she knew about the other girls from the group. (There were many horrible stories, with one girl recently arrested for selling her child for drugs.)

But somehow Katya had defied the odds: She was alive, she was not drug-addicted, she was not involved in criminal activity or prostitution, and she was still the same smart, inquisitive girl I had met 6 years ago. No, life was not what she envisioned for herself, but she did count her blessings. She lived with her boyfriend in his parents' apartment. She had a roof over her head, which is more than most of her friends had.

I'm writing this post about Katya, because I know how important it is to put a name and a face on the numbers and statistics everyone reads about. How can people care about and want to help a statistic? But if I can tell others about Katya, her dreams, her hopes and -- more importantly right now -- her needs, then others can take action.

I sent funds in September for Katya to buy Arkasha some
winter clothing:) Here's the photo I just received!

Katya is a young mother. She struggles to have enough to feed her child. Her husband is out of work, his parents are older and I'm not sure if they are working either. And even if they do, I know that the average salary is under $80 per month. I do know that when she wrote me this week and asked for $10 to buy food for Arkasha, she wasn't being melodramatic. She is very proud and has never asked me for anything. Like you and me, she just wants what is best for her child, but she is in a position where she is unable to provide for him in a way that we can for our children. He will get no Christmas presents. He doesn't even have his own bed. And yet Katya manages to make the best of things and look on the bright side.

I want to support and nurture the success that Katya has already created for herself -- staying alive and out of trouble. What if I could find families willing to send their gently use clothing, toys, bottles, etc to Katya? I asked her if she could receive packages and not have to pay a fee. As long as the customs form states that the items are worth less than $25, she can receive them at no cost to her. She will have to take a bus to town and go to the post office to pick them up, but I am sending her a small bit of money this week to help her pay for bus fare in and out of town.

If you are interested in sending gently used baby/toddler items to Katya, please let me know. This is her address. I hope she doesn't mind my posting it for a bit.

Yekaterina Chervonets
Menzhinskogo Ulitse 11-19
653000 Prokopyevsk
Kemerovo Oblast
RUSSIA

If you have never sent a package to Russia before, it is very simple. First, get a ready-post mailing carton like this:

Fill it and print the address in BOLD, CLEAR letters. Go to your local post office and fill out the customs form. (It must be filled out in detail or it may be returned.) In the customs form you list everything you are sending and its estimated value. Keep the value low, under $25.

Send it express mail to better insure its arrival in Siberia. At the post office they will tell you it will take 10 days to reach its destination. This is a myth of epic proportions. It is supposed to arrive in 10 days. However, it will take an average of 4-6 weeks. Once it arrives in Prokopyevsk, Katya will be sent a slip from the post office to come pick it up.

I hope a few readers will feel inspired to send her some things. Of course, if you can include a translated letter or card, all the better! I'll keep you posted on Katya's situation. I am excited to see her when I return to bring D home!

Most recent photo of Arkasha. Isn't he adorable?

This Damn Longing

2011-12-15T21:57:00.004-05:00

Sorry for the strong wording. 'Darn' just didn't cut it.

Yesterday we finally reached Anya again by Skype. Once she had been moved out of the hospital, it became impossible to reach her via Skype. So I did what any other resourceful mother would do -- I send funds to the people she is staying with to purchase the best wi-fi service that Siberia has to offer it.

It worked.

And so last night, as I typed away at a letter for D, I heard that familiar 'zherping' sound that tells you someone has logged into Skype. Lo and behold, it was Anya!

I hadn't realized how much I had missed seeing her and hearing her voice, so I started crying when the video came on and, in turn, scared her...she thought something awful had happened. 'No! I just miss you!' I said, and then she smiled and breathed deeply and added 'Mama, I miss you too...'

After we caught up as much as we could, I went up and got Nastia to come talk to her. Anya wanted us to meet her new kitten. The cat at their house had given birth last week, and her kitten was the tiniest, fluffiest little thing! Anya named her Vasalisa. Stupid me then asks her naively, 'Wow, the mom only had one kitten? That's rare.' I should have remembered the stories I had been told time and time again in Russia.

'Nooo, Mama, she had 8. We drowned the other seven today. Isn't Vasya cute?' Thud. My heart sank into my shoes and all I could think of was those poor little newborn kittens struggling in a bucket of water. But, as Nastia later scolded me with that harsh Russian POV...what are they to do? The kittens would all starve to death once they were weaned, or be eaten by someone. To Anya's mindset, what they did was an act of kindness.

Anya asked if Vasalisa could meet her American 'cousin', so Nastia traipsed upstairs and excavated poor Tink from the furthest corner under my bed. She brought her down and then forced the poor thing to endure a video-chat with another cat living 6,000 miles away. she was not impressed. At first Vasya was busy nursing, so I taped my two girls talking for a bit. I forgot how much Anya hates being filmed without makeup ('Mama, I am so UGLY without makeup!') Yeah,right.

I evidently caught her off guard when I asked her to say hi to my friends, as you'll see here:

Yup -- she hung up on us. But don't worry, we called her right back and I promised never to tape her again sans makeup. The kitties got to meet, the girls got to make faces at one another for an hour, and then I got another 20 minutes alone with Anya.

'Mama, I know you are trying, but will you please come soon?' I always dread these questions, because I don't know how to answer them without falling apart myself. It's not fair that we have 6,000 miles between us. It's not fair that I can't be there to nurse her while she recovers. It's not fair that we live in this supposedly modern world and yet the laws that keep us apart are so draconian.
After all these years, I still can't wrap my head around it.

Anya now waits for the court date where she will testify against the man who shot her. The police said she is not allowed to leave the country until the criminal case is over. By then it may be too late for me to get permission for her to come. It's a catch-22.

And on top of all this is the daily struggle with abject longing. I long to be there. For her. For D. For the kids at the orphanage. For my own sanity. This morning it stung me like a blade through my heart. I felt sick with my need to be there. I was ready to walk there, if needed. I wanted to be there, to see them and hear them and simply tell them all how much I still love them -- even if I cannot be there every day. Luckily today was so overrun with doctor appointments, urgent errands and the like, that I didn't have the luxury of nursing these sorrows. I had to just move past it.

Last night I dreamt that I was with Anya and D and we were trying to get out of Moscow by any means necessary and come home. As the dream progressed, D got younger and younger until he was an infant clinging to my side and trying to nurse on my fingers. Anya pushed her way through crowds of people, with a large patch worked backpack on her back, demanding someone help us. We had no phone, no money, and we would stop to sleep in doorways of shops when we got tired. At one point I saw an older gentleman with an iphone, and I asked him if I could use it to call home. We were sitting on the steps of a cafe, Anya leaning on me in a big black sheepskin coat, looking at a map, and D, now looking about 10 months old, wrapping his legs tightly around my waist and chewing contentedly on my hand. I kissed him over and over and smelled his hair and felt so scared of losing him. I remember thinking in my dream how I would give anything to be tucking them both in at home. I felt so alone and scared, and so shamed that I had no shelter for them. It started raining hard in my dream then, and as I waited for Nastia to answer the phone (I was calling her in my dream), my alarm went off and I woke up.

As sad as the dream felt, I would give anything to fall back into it tonight. Spending time with them, if even only in dreams, is worth the painful longing that comes with it.

An Explanation and a Solution

2011-12-14T17:09:00.003-05:00

Wow. Just wow.

I honestly had no idea how many devoted readers I had. I knew how many people stopped by. I knew how many people 'subscribed', but the actual numbers of truly devoted readers are never usually close to that.

With the disconcerting 'photo stealing' problem I was having with my blog, I thought the best answer was to just go private. I couldn't think of another way to deal with it. But I had no idea what a pain in the ____ it would be. I knew it would be a struggle to add all those email addresses individually to the 'allowed readers' list. I knew it would limit who could see my blog, but I really thought I had about 100 really devoted readers at best, so it would work. I was wrong. Within the first two hours of closing my blog, I received over 80 requests from readers who wanted to keep reading. By the end of the first 24 hours, the number was over 400 and I couldn't even keep up with responding to all the emails. By this morning, I just gave up. My inbox was completely overrun. I even had people contacting my business to gain access, when they couldn't locate my personal email address.

So first, thank you. Thank you that there are so many of you who actually enjoy reading what I write. I was truly dumbfounded, and it has given me a renewed commitment to writing more often and keeping people informed. I had gotten lax, because I didn't think too many people were interested. (Not many people comment, so I assumed not many read.) I was wrong, but in this case, it was nice to be wrong!

Now to the dilemma. I watch my blog carefully, and I noticed that someone spent 3-4 days downloading all of the photos of me and some of particular others from my blog. But not only that, they had done searches on my blog for very specific and troubling things and these two things worried me. People take photos all the time, but it is usually one or maybe two. And it is usually from a person I recognize or someone who wrote and asked first. That I don't mind. I use photos from other sites too, but I either ask permission, or I make sure it is available through creative commons license, or is in the public domain, etc. It is not only rude but illegal to use someone's photos without their permission (unless they have listed them under creative commons, etc..which I do myself on flickr, etc.)

This person also took a particular interest in photos of D, which REALLY bothered me.

I have spent a good part of today going through my entire blog and removing any posts or photos that I would not want someone with ill intents having access to. It was a long slow painful process, and I need to go back and check more. But for now, I feel like I can open the blog back up, as long as I post this too:

To Whomever spent several days taking so many of my photos, I want you to know that I saved your IP address. I've also paid to have it traced so soon I will have your name and phone number. I will not use it, but I want to have it as insurance. Am I curious as to why you wanted so many photos of me? Yes. But am I more concerned about your taking all the photos of D? YOU BET. I am watching you, and I am checking every day to see if you come back. If you do, I expect you to behave and NOT take my photos without permission. Ok? And if you had any ill intent, WATCH OUT. If I think anyone is out to harm my family in any way, I am RUTHLESS.

I had an experience like this 6 years ago that caused such pain in my and my daughter's life, that I will never ever allow it to happen again. Right Ms Ahern? (I won't post her full name, but the woman who used the internet to try to destroy my life in 2005 carries the last name Ahern. I'm betting she reads my blog sometimes. I paid to track her down too, and contacted her to make sure she knew she would regret what she did. I still keep track of where she lives and what she is doing, just to be safe.)Maybe this gives you some idea of why this photo experience was so upsetting to me.

To all my other readers, I don't want to scare you off from using my photos for good purposes. Here is what I think is fair:

If you have followed my story for years and simply want some of the photos for your own personal viewing, and do not intend to ever share them, you have my permission to use my photos. You do not have to ask.

Next: I sometimes like to have photos of the people and children I am praying for. I post them above my computer or but them in a book by my bed. If you wish to take a photo for this reason, again, you have permission.

Next, if you know me well and IN REAL LIFE and we are FRIENDS, you can take any and all photos you like for your personal use (not public use). YOu have my permission.

However, if I do not know you in real life and if your reasons are other than the ones stated above: DO NOT TAKE MY PHOTOS WITHOUT PERMISSION. Just ask. If you tell me why you want them, I will very likely say yes. I just need to know. It's only fair.

Lastly, I have allowed many people to use my photos for their nonprofit organizations. Some have needed photos of orphans. Some needed photos inside a Russian Orphanage. Some were trying to collect donations for Orphanage #5 and needed photos to help tell the story. In all these cases I said yes, but...I WAS ASKED. If you want to use some photos for public use for a good purpose, just ask.

I apologize to everyone who had to go to the trouble of emailing me or messaging me to get permission to view the blog. Once I had done about 80 emails, I got burnout and stopped! It became evident that this would not be the solution. So I decided to just insure my safety by paying to trace the person's IP, and then removed anything that could be used to hurt me or my family, and I'm opening it back up. Once I get D home, I will repost all the things I have removed.

I hope everyone understands. I strongly encourage other parents to get a program that allows them to 'watch' the activity on their blog in detail, too. It's a great security measure, but it's also fun to see how people get to your blog, what they do once there, and what posts seem to be most popular, etc. It costs, but its worth it.

Thanks everyone! Oh, and PS: Many of you will know what this photo means! If you don't, just know it means Good News!

Makes Me Nervous

2011-12-10T15:53:00.003-05:00

I check out who is visiting my blog -- and what they are doing there -- pretty frequently. Recently, someone from Champaign Illinois has taken dozens and dozens of my photos without my permission. I don't like that. (I have their IP address, so I could pay to figure out who it is, if needed.)

I'm going to remove most of my posts for a bit until I can find a way to make it more difficult for people to take my photos. seriously, why don't people just ask?

If you told me why you wanted them I would likely say ' sure, go ahead.' But the fact that you are downloading so many, and such specific photos ( all kids at the orphanage, and me with the kids at the orphanage) makes me nervous. Fess up, please.

Apologies to my longtime readers...I'm going private...

Update On A Great Many Things

2011-12-06T09:42:00.002-05:00

First, GREAT news: Laura and Conor were found safe in Newark NJ. A 48 hour adventure for them, but a terrifying nightmare for their parents. So very grateful they are home safe now.

Second, I've heard heard your cries for an update...lol. So sorry I've been remiss. I've been focusing on the mundane : house cleaning, doctor appts, Christmas Card writing, sending packages to Russia, and cleaning up the yard for winter!

Anya is doing ok. Not great, but ok. I've been sending money regularly via Western Union. I send it to her distant cousin, whom she is staying with right now. she says the hard part for Anya right now is that she cannot go outside at all, even if they could find people to carry her out. Why? Because it is below freezing and she still has that giant bags on her leg with screws going into her bones. If she goes out, it freezes her flesh! I don't even want to think about that! I'm getting her medicals translated, but the police will not let her leave the country for now anyway, because she is due in court to testify against the man who shot her. Although they have not set a date yet, Anya hopes it will be in the next few months.

My Homestudy for D is DONE! It should arrive in the mail any day now. A few dossier items have expired so I need to update them, but as soon as I get my USCIS 1600A approval I can go deliver my dossier!!!!

Nastia made the honor role her first quarter and has been doing really well, except for last week. She is butting heads with her English teacher and it caused her to run away from school last week which caused a big mess. We are working through it slowly. She seems to be processing some old traumas lately. Trying to be as gentle and supportive as possible, but it is hard when you have a hormonal and traumatized teen living in very close quarters with you, always looking for a fight! God give me patience...

I have gone nearly two months without any flare-ups or significant arthritis pain. That's a new record for me! I hope I'm not jinxing it. I can only guess that it is due to me vigilance about eating more organic food ( about 80 % now) and also trying to eat several servings of green veggies every day - broccoli, asparagus, roasted brussel sprouts, green beans, snap peas, spinach, and the like. I have some with every single meal. also cutting out gluten as much as possible. switched permanently to rice pasta and only sour-dough bread (has the lowest amount of gluten for regular breads.) Have lost 10 pounds in the process, so that's a nice side effect!

Probably the best news of all as of late is that my friend Lisa had a successful day in court yesterday in Siberia. She is coming how with TWO beautiful toddlers in the coming weeks, and guess who's the godmother!

Here are the gorgeous 'twins' (not really twins, but born only a few months apart, so pseudo-twins!)

Isabella Daria Smith!

Phoebe Anastasia Smith!

I cried all morning when I heard the news that they made it through court. Lisa has fought a long hard battle to adopt this time around, and I have watched the terrible pain she has endured. To know she is now the mom to these wonderful girls makes me feel like I could explode with joy.

All of us who have experienced the dark and difficult side of adoption cannot help but celebrate each child coming home as if they are our own. We know how hard-won this victory is. And each victory fuels us on our own journey.

Welcome to your family, Phoebe and Bella! Can't wait to hold you!!!

The Atheist and His Gift To Me

2011-11-06T16:38:00.006-05:00

I've been conversing lately with an atheist. It's fascinating and invigorating and has given me the gift of really going inward and looking closely and honestly at my own beliefs as a Follower of Christ. I'm more grateful to this person than I could possibly express, because his honest and rigorous searching for the truth for himself has given me the gift of deep self-reflection.

But this friend has been challenging me to explain my beliefs and asking lots of questions on why and how I believe such 'magical thoughts.' It doesn't bother me in the least - it does sound like magical thinking...if you don't know HIM. And the funny thing is, there is nothing I can say, ever, that could convince this person that God exists. Or that Christ is God in the flesh. Nothing.

Yes, I'm what the world calls a 'Christian' , but I don't even like that word, because it has so many negative connotations these days. I prefer to say I'm following Christ. Following His example, trying my best to be like Him, love like Him, act like Him, live like Him. It's a tall order and, truth be told, I don't just fail to live up to it every day...I fail every second.

And what I hate about contemporary Christians is that far too many of them seem to get their priorities wrong: they get obsessed with the 'Gay Agenda' as they call it (and by the way, I think God sees same sex couples the same way He sees opposite sex couples...but that is another whole post of its own, and YES, I know my scripture, thank you very much), they hyper-focus on constant evangelizing and proselytizing, they judge and point fingers and make decisions from a place of fear. They do ALL these things, instead of doing the one thing Jesus asked of us while He was here - Love. Love one another. Love your neighbor as yourself. Love like the Samaritan did...out of your comfort zone. Love like Mary Magdalene did...with an overflowing, scarily generous love. Love like Jesus did - putting others ahead of ourselves, even unto death.

I can't talk this friend into believing there is a God. I could spew verses and texts and personal stories for a century and not move him. I can't coerce, persuade, convince in any way. But what I can do is infinitely more convincing. And relevant. And difficult.

I can love.

If we truly, truly lived by Christ's words and simply LOVED as often and as deeply and as honestly and as wholeheartedly as He did, we wouldn't need words. Our life would be the message. Our life alone could prove the existence of a loving God.

I'm so very sad these days, seeing - every. single. day. - examples of how terribly people treat each other. I don't even have to watch the news for an example...I can see it in the actions of people around me, and in myself, every day. Yes, sometimes it is blatant, but more often than not it is a subtle, hidden kind of selfishness and self-absorption that plays out -- we rush to cut into traffic ahead of that other car, we talk incessantly about our own problems, we gossip, we silently judging someone for how they act....we choose the opposite of Love.

I don't want to be cut off from Love like that. Every selfish action, no matter how small, cuts us off from Love. And Love isn't an idea. Love is alive:)

So, I've been on a personal quest for some time to become as loving and compassionate as I can. It's a hard road. I'm making tough choices...doing things that other, wiser souls have done before me and say have worked:

I'm trying to detach from material things...giving away all I can and focusing my intention on people instead of things. I'm praying and meditating all I can....generations of wise souls have found great soul growth in these acts, and have grown closer to Love.
I'm sacrificing in ways that are uncomfortable. I don't want to share all the ways with you, because part of the sacrifice is bearing it joyfully, but I'll share one small way -- I am denying myself food I love for one meal a day. A kind of fast. I eat one meal a day as either just a piece of bread or a bowl of plain cereal. I don't enjoy this, but I know from researching spiritual fasting that even small sacrifices like this bear huge spiritual fruit..
I'm trying also to love others even when its painful or uncomfortable to do so. This has been the hardest of all. There are people who have really hurt me or angered me and I'm trying to see them through God's eyes instead of turning away from them, or judging them harshly.

And in all these things, I ask love for constant support and guidance. He knows the way. He created the Way.

Sometimes the loving choice is antithetical to our human thinking. I often have to ask God a dozen or more times to help me make the more loving choice, but He always answers, even if the voice I hear is like a whisper. He said to 'ask and it shall be given', and He holds to His word...test it out yourself.

I'm not out to convert anyone. Nope. And many of my Christian friends might be bothered by that. But, you see, I have infinite trust in Him. He told me that the greatest commandment is to love God and love my neighbor as myself. And so, I think it's pretty important that I focus on that.

God's love in infinite....so when my very human heart starts grieving, say, that I'm still separated from Anya and Daniel, and when I cry myself to sleep, when I have days of deep sorrow over my inability to bring Anya home after all these years, I remind myself of his Infinite Love. From my perspective it may seem that He is not answering my prayers, but I know from my experience as a parent, that children do NOT see the whole picture. I need to trust my Father. He has my back. I just know it.

And so, this friend of mine has forced some really hard questions, and I've found that I am perfectly content with some questions remaining unanswered. Why? Because in my lifetime, Love has proven Himself over and over as a faithful parent. I need only trust.

This friend asked the other night 'What if you find out it's all a myth?'
I thought about his question and realized it wouldn't really change much for me. It is my Truth, and even if there were a way to prove to me it's 'magical thinking' as he calls it, I wouldn't change a thing. Love is the greatest teacher, and I'm His student. May my gravestone be my diploma:)

The Day of Epic Ups and Downs

2011-10-29T19:58:00.004-05:00

I'll start with the good news.We all need to hear as much good news as we can these days. So: new home study for D completed! First thing this morning I was able to send the home study to my adoption attorney for her approval. I am incredibly grateful to the Social Worker and Home Study Agency I am working with. They truly kept their word on completing it by the end of October, and I'm grateful for their honesty and openness through this process. So, my home study for D is now in the hands of my attorney! Once she decides it will 'make the cut' in Russia, I will get a copy and submit it with my new 1600A!

Then, as I was celebrating to myself over the home study, my friend Lisa contacted me and asked if I would be godmother to her to BEYOND-ADORABLE little sweeties from EE, who come home soon! I won't post any identifying info, as they are not home yet, but I will say that they are two Angels with Down Syndrome from Reece's Rainbow, and they are just about the most beautiful girls I have ever seen...not kidding! There is a sweetness about them that makes my heart leap and I've been praying for them since I first learned of them. Lisa was originally adopting from Kemerovo, like me, but due to the adoption 'climate' there, it could not be. Please continue to pray for her little Yana who remains institutionalized there.

The sad part of the day involved Anya. We haven't been able to reach her on Skype for a few days and I was getting that mother's intuition that she was not well. (Strangely, every time I feel that intuition, it is ALWAYS spot on with Anya.) so I logged onto Russian Facebook (vkontakte) to see if I could find her online that way. After about an hour she signed on and we were able to chat via instant message for over an hour. And I was right, she was not doing well.

This coming week marks Anya reaching her third month in hospital. Her regular trauma surgeon is on vacation now, and she is having problems with the new doctor. She says he REALLY, really hurts her when he turns the screws in her leg, and doesn't seem to care at all that she is in pain. She gets daily shots in her butt (for the pain), but she said it is getting really hard to take them now, because every spot is bruised and hurts. But what seemed to be bothering her most is that this new doctor says she will be released soon, and Anya does not know how she will manage. She will be able to say at her cousin's house, but I have been there. It is not sanitary and she will still have open wounds. On top of that, she cannot walk, and the house is absolutely not wheelchair accessible. She will have to be carried in and out of the house. Last of all, the house is one very small room for three people. She will have to share a VERY tiny space with NO bathroom, and this cousin is a drug addict and cannot be relied on to care for Anya.

With all this new information, I am swallowing my Irish pride and reposting the Paypal Link for the 'Bring Anya Home Fund' in hopes that some readers might have a few dollars to spare. I told Anya I will try to find the funds to send for a wheelchair and funds so that someone could build a ramp from the road to the door of the house. Right now it is just a hard-to-navigate muddy, dirt path (or likely snow by now.) She kept trying to comfort me, telling me not to worry, but once she was more tired and her defenses were down, she asked, 'Mama, what am I going to do? I can't walk, I can't do anything.'

I've contacted the TV journalist who did the national story on us last fall, and she is going to do her best to talk to the hospital and find out if they will please reconsider releasing a letter about Anya so I can attempt to apply for the medical visa. Playing the broken record again: Will you pray (hard!) that this journalist will make some headway with them, and that I finally can apply to bring Anya home for medical treatment? All I need is a stupid letter from the surgeon!

Well, that is my up and down day. I still have 145 students to cast in three different productions of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' tonight for this final school job, and print out 145 scripts before 8am Monday. And did I mention my mom is visiting from Florida, and of course that Halloween is Monday? Full plate!

If you are in a similar state of overwhelm or 'full plate syndrome', just do what I do: Remember Luke 1:37:

'For nothing is impossible with God.'

Hanging In There

2011-10-24T08:07:00.002-05:00

Me, on this chilly October morning, in my messy office. (Someone dared me to post a current photo..so here it is!)

I feel bad I've had nothing very interesting to share lately. My life was far more interesting this time last year, when we were living in Russia. Now I only get glimpses of her (Russia) when I Skype with Anya every week.

Since a few of you have emailed me asking for an update, I'll indulge you. Wish it were more exciting, but I remain hopeful:

Anya is still in hospital and dealing with the weekly turning of the screws in her leg. She says its very painful, but she handles it much better than I would! We talk on Skype about every other day. I try daily, but don't always get through. Anya is a trooper. I stand more in awe of her resilience and courage every single day. I adore her and miss her and cannot wait till life affords me the chance to go back and see her again. I miss her so much!

Nastia is doing really well in school. She is in all special ed classes, except for art and theatre, but she is really thriving. Art is her favorite class. She has been undergoing lots of testing this fall and finally has a tentative diagnosis of Non-verbal Learning Disorder (NVLD). I'm currently reading all I can about it and looking forward helping Nastia learn about it as well. She is so relieved to have proof she is not 'stupid' as she has called herself for so long. Having the diagnosis and understanding what it means has really boosted her self-esteem.

I continue on my journey to adopt D. I fight guilt and anxiety about it every day. He should be here now, and every day away from him feels like a terrible punishment. I'm lucky in that I can call him and send letters via email a few times a month, but I can't help feeling that every day he is not here means more pain for him. I've just about completed my NEW home study and can't WAIT to reapply for my 1600A and get things moving. If you are a praying person reading this, it would mean the world to me if you would pray for D's peace of mind. He is very sad and feeling hopeless, and thinks he will never see me again. I can't convince him otherwise. I want him to feel peace.

Finally, I'm struggling still with my work. I'm self-employed and many of my school jobs have dried up in this hurting economy. If things don't get better in the next six months, I may consider moving to Florida, closer to my family. There are far more teaching jobs there. I may need to look at starting a new career in the public school system if things continue on this down-hill slide.

Well, that's about it from here. Plugging away on paperwork, and praying for my kids every day. I'll post again when I have anything of interest to share!

Nastia in High School: So Far So....GREAT!

2011-10-05T19:06:00.004-05:00

I don't often write about Nastia anymore. Once she got to be 16 I felt it was an invasion of her privacy to be discussing RAD, PTSD and other issues that she deals with, without asking her permission first. It doesn't mean we don't deal with those issues anymore, it just means that we keep it between us and her therapist.

But praiseworthy behavior and growth seem to be something I should be sharing. It's important to me that other parents of children with severe behaviors get to witness that these issues can often be healed, even when it seems next to impossible at the outset.

Nastia has home schooled for three years. She left school after 2 years of tremendous struggle and anxiety. She wasn't learning - there was far too much trauma for any true learning to go on. For those who doubt that - think of the most stressful, traumatic situation you have ever endured. In that mindset, would you be able to study? To read or write? To truly take anything else in but the moment at hand? Doubtful.

And so, I withdrew her from school, and we spent three years doing intensive bonding, attachment practices, therapy, and learning how to breathe, relax and be present. We took trips, we went camping, we walked beaches, we watched inspiring movies, we learned coping skills, we braved new experiences slowly and deliberately. In short, I gave my daughter time to heal. My intuition told me that she would know when she was ready to go back, if ever. In June of this year, after three intensive years of self-focused healing and learning to feel safe, she announced she wanted to go back to school. Her therapist and I agreed she was ready. And so, a few weeks ago Nastia started high school for the first time. We decided to put her in 9th grade, and though she hated the idea at first (she was afraid of being ridiculed for her age) she finally settled in. Biologically, she is 18, after all, but as any of you parents of older adopted children know, those years in the orphanage wreak havoc on our children's development - emotionally, socially, behaviorally and even physically. They are years and years behind their peers. So why do so many parents force them to try and fit in with their actual age group? I have no idea.

I went into the school IEP meeting with my defenses up. I was ready to fight for what she needed, but I didn't have to. The new head of the Special Ed Dept truly listened to everything I and her therapist had to say, and implemented it immediately into her schedule. He respected me as a parent in a way I rarely see with teachers and school staff. I was impressed. Nastia came in for the 2nd meeting and she too, felt very supported and well-treated very quickly. She is thriving in school! She gets up at 6am with no complaint (what??), she gets ready without help or coaxing (is this MY daughter??) she WALKS to school (umm, are you SURE this isn't a figment of my imagination??) and she does her homework willingly and with great gusto. I have to tell you, I am floored. I did not expect this.

This is the girl that used to throw chairs at her teacher. This is the girl who ran away from school so many times that they stopped calling the police and just called me instead, because I'd know where to find her. This is the girl who fought me so hard on school mornings that I would sit in my car and cry for an hour after I dropped her off each day. Yes, this girl.

And so I'm sharing this because it's important to share with others who are on the same path as we are, but not as far along the road. Have patience. Trust. Listen and really hear what your child is saying and what they are truly asking for, and offer it. I had every single person in my life dumping on me because I took her out of school. But I finally listened to myself and my daughter and did it, and it has rewarded me a million-fold. I fell to pressure when she first came home and enrolled her in school and it was pretty much a disaster from day one. I so wanted others to respect me as a parent, that I let their ideals and beliefs about what was 'right' come before my own. Bad idea.

And so now, when the time is finally right, my daughter is embracing school with her whole being. And I see how hard it is for her, yet she still perseveres, because she is ready now. Fear and Terror no longer block the way to learning. She walks with confidence. She even brought a new friend home the other day after school. Amazing.

Nastia, you are STILL my hero. You never cease to amaze me, and delight me. You teach me every day that the impossible is possible. I want to be like you - braver than brave and always looking the world straight in the eye. I love you, my sweet girl!

When It Rains, It Pours

2011-10-04T13:30:00.003-05:00

Literally!

I woke at 5:45am to the sound of our flood alarm going off in the basement. The water was already up to my knees. I went to the side door of my basement that faces the driveway, and the water was pouring in the cracks of the door like a waterfall. I sloshed over and looked out the window...it was up to my chest outside the door. Nothing I could do. The water was getting so high inside that even all my pallets holding bins of stored items started to float up and away. My furnace flooded, my washer and driver tipped sideways, my beautiful collection of antique children's books was under water. (Nastia had moved the basket downstairs when Natasha moved in for awhile. She never told me.) I waded around looking at all my boxes and bins either submerged under water or floating by me, and I just said over and over again to myself ' It's just stuff, it's just stuff. Let it go. Don't cry. It's just stuff.'

So far so good - no tears. Not much I can do until the water drains out. All the major storm drains were clogged with leaves, so Nastia, my neighbors and I were out at 6am with brooms and sticks and anything else we could find to moves the leaves. My arms were too short..the water was that deep!

Anyway, I'm always trying my best to look at the bright side of things, because there always is a bright side. I've come to the conclusion that this is the motivation I needed to do even deeper purging of material things. Why do I have a basement full of things? It's too much. So, once I get everything dried off and washed (if its not ruined!) I'm going to start getting that stuff on craiglist and ebay. Gorgeous costumes, bikes, a brand new stroller, bins and bins of yardsale items. I'm just going to look at this as a strong reminder of my commitment to purge. If you can think of other positives to a flooded basement, please pass them on in the comment section!

PS: I filmed my basement, but it was too dark, so all you see on the video is a black square and hear me sloshing and mumbling 'It's just stuff, it's just stuff...'

Spending Time With Anya...Thanks Skype!

2011-10-02T16:05:00.002-05:00

I just got off an hour-long video chat with Anya. To say I'm joyful and grateful is a huge understatement. We have had great difficulty with Skype the past few weeks, so we haven't been able to be in touch with her. But this morning we reached her and talked until Anya was nodding off...lol.

Nastia has a very bad cold, so she lasted all of ten minutes, but after she went to bed, Anya and I talked for over an hour. she finally opened up a bit more about the day she was shot, and what she has learned about the shooter. His name is Ilya. He's 28 years old and was on drugs at the time. Anya will have to attend the court hearing, and so they are waiting for her to be well enough to attend. She told me she was sooo grateful that he shot her leg instead of her head. 'Mama, if he aimed up, I would not be here. I am so lucky he aimed down.' She talked about how she keeps replaying the day over and over in her head and how she cannot believe how close she was to losing her life. 'I am very lucky,' she kept saying.

I told her I felt it was not luck, but that she was being watched over that day, because our six years of praying for her daily, along with the countless prayers of others, acted like a protective shield that day. I truly believe that. She smiled hugely and told me she loved me:)

so, the doctors are not telling her much. They say she will be there for 'many more months' but will not give her a date of any kind. She has been in that bed for two months already. I cannot imagine how difficult it is for her. She says she is still in pain, but that they give her injections in her stomach when it gets unbearable. She moved the camera to show me the injection site - yuck! Just a big black and green bruise on her lower abdomen. Here is what her leg is looking like lately. She took the photo herself:

I know it looks awful, but I am just so happy every time I see her foot at the end of her leg, that I don't mind seeing that horrible brace.

So, I still await the doctor's letter so I can submit the Humanitarian Parole docs for a medical visa. I'll be skyping with Anya again tonight at 10pm my time. Can't wait:)

Get Your Perspective Right

2011-09-30T19:50:00.008-05:00

It's so easy to focus on the negative. It takes no effort. It's like rolling down a hill; gravity helps you. But remaining in that place that sees the light and the good in even the darkest corners? That takes effort.

I've been praying a lot today, and listening for what God might have to say. He didn't send me any epiphany of Anya's imminent arrival, no confirmation that Daniel will be home soon, or that Anya will walk again, or that my business will survive, or that my health will strengthen - nothing of that sort. But what He did offer me was the nudge to write on my blog again, and to write about trusting Him even when you can't see Him or feel Him. Probably because I'm becoming an expert on that.

This week alone, I had three different people offer their sympathy for what I'm going through. 'I don't know how you do it.' one said. ' I'd have lost my faith by now!' one laughed. 'Don't you feel like you never catch a break?' queried another. Well, yes, sometimes I do feel that way, but then I turn to God in my despair (and obviously limited perspective) and ask Him to show me the truth of the matter. And He does.

True Faith, for some of us, must be hard-won, I think. I have friends who seem to come by it easily, but I never did. I always doubted and worried and bit my nails and second-guessed. I never really had true faith until I experienced times of total despair. In those times I had no choice but to hold on to what God promises. And you know what? He really, truly reaches out to us in those moments, if we reach towards Him. If we just say 'I give up, I can't do this alone', He hears that.

I'm truly at peace lately. I know something that I didn't know before. We don't have to sense God to know He's with us. We don't have to 'feel' supported or taken care of. We can just trust His word. I used to think that if I didn't sense God in my life, then He obviously wasn't there or had turned his back on me. Not true. Not true at all. Love is with us ALL. THE. TIME. He created us, He knows us, and, most importantly, He loves us beyond our wildest imaginings.

This is how I don't fall apart when I hit yet one more ridiculous obstacle in getting Anya here for treatment. This is how I don't lose my mind when Anya is skyping me, begging me to come be with her when I know I can't possibly get there. This is how I keep my sanity when Daniel is in tears on the phone, asking when he will see me again. I know that in the very roots of my pain and despair, is the One who loves me most. God is there, right there, in the midst of the despair, holding me together and ministering to the hearts of my children.

Do I wish God would just come out and tell me what to expect? Do I wish He would share the secret with me on when - or if - my children will ever be home? Yes. But I trust Him. There must be something He knows that I perhaps couldn't not comprehend or understand.

Back in the spring when Greg & Tesney Pearce Davis were fighting the Russian Supreme court to get their son here, I immediately felt called to pray for Kyrill. My heart felt burdened, knowing here was yet another child being kept from his family. I was devastated. I laid on my bed and cried and cried to God to allow a miracle to happen. Within no more than 5 minutes after I started praying for Kyrill, an internal voice, not my own, said 'Do not worry. He is coming home very soon.' It was so strong and so powerful that I immediately stopped crying and felt completely assured that the prayer was already answered. I knew in that moment that God had already heard the prayers of Kyrill's parents and others, and there was no doubt in my mind that the judge would rule in their favor. Kyrill is home right now as I write this...flourishing in every way.

I'm not sure why I share this little story with you, except to show that sometimes it seems that God communicates with others about our situations. Our faith may be buoyed up by others sharing the weight of our pain. God loves community. God loves to see a shared burden. God encourages us to reach out and hold hands in our pain, not lock ourselves away.

So, I'm continuing to hope that Anya will be here under our roof sooner rather than later, despite over six years of 'No.' I'm continuing to believe that Daniel will be cuddled upstairs in his waiting bed before too long, even though the current climate in Kemerovo adoptions says otherwise. And every day I'm trusting the One Who created Me, to meet all my needs, even as I see my business floundering more every day. It's not my job to worry, it's my job to keep offering myself up to be His hands and feet in others' lives, while I trust Him with mine.

Update on Anya's Situation

2011-09-10T12:33:00.003-05:00

Anya sleeping (Christmas 2009) So sweet.

Lots to share but not much time to share it. But you, my blog friends, have been so supportive these past few years, and I want to keep you updated.

What I Am Doing to Get Her Here ASAP - Angels are starting to appear:) Tomorrow morning I meet with one of them - an immigration attorney who is going to walk me through all the humanitarian parole paperwork. I need to get it in as soon as possible. I also have contacted every hospital and medical person I can think of. ( and so have a few of my friends) I need to have an orthopedic surgeon who is willing to treat Anya for free once she is here. I need him/her to put that in writing for the HP form supporting documents. We are trying to get that by tomorrow evening.

I also need proof all her medical costs will be covered by someone or some organization. Any ideas? They will not approve her visa if I cannot prove it will all be paid for. any advice from those in the know is appreciated.

Much more going on, but these are the major steps I am taking in the next 24 hours.
How Anya is Doing Physically - Not very well. And I know prayer works, so please, please offer up prayers for her stability and healing. She had another surgery and is getting another blood transfusion. She is now on oxygen and was moved to the Russian equivalent of ICU. She still has a fever, and she is unable to have visitors or calls or even use her computer for now. I have the doctor's email and he will update me if anything major changes. I am hoping to talk to an orthopedic surgeon here who can tell me if her ankle can be fixed in any way. The Russian Doctor says no, but I want 2nd , 3rd and 4th opinions.

How Anya is Doing Mentally/Emotionally - Anya is a very resilient girl. She seemed restless and frustrated when we video-chatted with her, but she was also heavily medicated so it was hard to tell. What I do know is that once she is not so medicated is when things get difficult. Anya is the most stubborn person I have ever met. If she does not want to do something, there is no one and no thing that can make her do it. Believe me, I've tried, and I am VERY persuasive. Anya hates being idle and 'bored'. She is always trying to get away from herself. Having to spend months in a hospital bed will not appeal to her. I know she will try to leave the hospital when she thinks she is well enough. She is street smart, but VERY naive. It is not a good combination. She will think she knows better than the doctor when she is well. This concerns me. I want to find ways to keep her mind occupied, so she will stay put. She loves to draw and listen to music, so that may help, but she doesn't like to read, and there is no tv there. I'm wracking my brain for simple things she can do to keep her motivated and occupied once she is out of ICU and in a normal hospital room.

I'll keep you all posted as I learn more. In the meantime, please send a card if you can (address in my last post.) I want to tell her when I next skype with her that countless cards are on their way. It will give her something to look forward to.

As always, please pray that she is brought home swiftly and surely. It is my deepest and most hoped for desire. May it be so.

Sometimes We Don't Get Answers

2011-08-16T18:43:00.010-05:00

This is one of those times.

I've reached the point of not crying anymore. What's the point? It serves no purpose to cry and scream and shake my fists at God. If I'm learning anything this summer, it's humility. It's learning that our humanity is indeed very limiting.

I have lots of New Agey-type friends. I used to lean that way myself. People who swear we are gods in our own right and that tapping into that power, or connecting to 'all this is' is as easy as turning on a light switch. Know what I've never found? I've never ever found someone who has been to Hell and back who believes those things. The people I've met in life who have seen the worst (like the Holocaust survivors I know, or the friend who watched her entire family be murdered in front of her, or the girl I taught who was raped and tortured and beaten by her father for years, and who, when she finally told, was forced to eat her own dog by him) - these people, these miraculous beings who looked Evil in the face and lived to tell about it -- these people, whether Jew or Christian or something all their own, accept and understand their own limitations and reach upwards to a God who promises to stand by them even when they feel it not. Each of them accepts that we truly do not have any power of our own accord. If we did, those horrible things would not have happened, because we would not invite or wish them into our lives.

I have not survived a holocaust. I cannot fathom what it would be like to see my family murdered before me, but in my own relative circumstances, I have been living my own little version of hell for awhile. And I am here to tell you that platitudes and positive thinking cannot clear a mind and heart of such darkness. A little darkness? Sure. But a great big, unfathomably deep and all penetrating darkness that seems to pummel us in relentless waves? No. 'Happy thoughts' are not going to fix that kind of thing. It takes something greater than ourselves.

And so, in this never ending journey of pain and suffering with Anya, I have only two choices. I can to cling to hope and trust in all the other instances that God has proven His love for me (and there are many) and wait for His answer to come...even when it's been 6 years of waiting so far. Or, I can throw my hands in the air, turn my back on God and Anya, and walk away.

I'm sure you know which one I've chosen every day of these past 6 years.

Anya is not well. She had a third emergency surgery, today. Her lung infection is worse. There is talk of amputation. I cannot even pretend to understand why she suffers so much and why I continuously am put in the position to not be able to help her. Yes, I am also fully aware that I am getting the lion's share of bad luck this summer. And no, I do not know why. But I do know this: God is ever and always pushing us towards a greater good, if we have placed our lives in his hands. I may not see the point of the suffering, but I don't have to. My job is to persevere and to trust and hope. Its not easy. In fact, some days its downright impossible. But the impossible is nothing to God.

I've gotten so many emails and phone calls and messages offering advice on how to cope with this. Some say 'stay positive and picture her here!' - sweet sentiment, but unhelpful. Some more religious friends say ' Look inward and see what unconfessed sins might be to blame.' Sorry, my God doesn't work that way. Others say 'maybe it's time for you to move on...you've tried for so long and it doesn't look to be working out.' To them, I say ' what a sad, sad world you must live in, to think abandoning someone is EVER an option.'

No, I'll put my trust in Him who has proven his faithfulness and love to me time and time again. So what if its not happening in my time frame? Who am I to question? 'Be still, and know that I am God.' Great advice all those thousands of years ago, and still great advice today.

I do not know when or even IF Anya will come home to us. I do not know when or IF her suffering will end. but I know this: God loves her, and if He loves her, He will not forsake her. And that is why I have hope in the face of so much uncertainty and suffering. I believe in a God -- a Power Unimaginable -- that formed and sustains this world with LOVE.

LOVE.

So, while all those around me tell me what I should be doing and thinking and feeling, I'll be banking on LOVE.

LOVE sits with Anya tonight while she undergoes her operation. LOVE guides the hands that will operate on her. LOVE knows her and loves her and keeps her. That is all I know, and all I need to know.

Giving Anya Hope

2011-08-10T08:42:00.005-05:00

Most recent photo of Anya

My friend Svetlana met with Anya's 'traumatologist.' I was so grateful to get some news directly from him. Sadly, the news is not good. He says the bone is destroyed and cannot be fixed, and that they had to move Anya into the ER to keep her from getting another infection. (The ER is more sanitary, he said.) He said she has a very weakened immune system and that he will provide ANY documentation needed for a medical visa to get her treated here in the US as soon as possible.

If you are so inclined, you can do a few things for Anya:

1. PRAY THAT WE GET HER HERE ASAP! I am applying for Humanitarian Parole today in Anya's behalf, even though I have been told for 6 years that she is not eligible. I am being told that now she qualifies. (Who knew a gunshot wound would be good for something?) I have a wonderful woman at CCAI in Washington helping, as well as some contacts at the State Dept. Pray for them, too. Pray that they find the swiftest and easiest paths to get Anya's visa approved as soon as possible, and that all things related to this move SWIFTLY AND SURELY.

2. Help give Anya hope in the meantime. Even if things move swiftly, she will likely be stuck in the hospital there for months. She needs inspiration and lots of love! Will you send a card? Here is my address. You can send cards to Anya and I will make sure they get to her in the fastest possible time. If we cannot get Anya here by September, I am going to fly over there myself. (I cannot fly safely right now as you all probably know) Please send any cards or letters (IN RUSSIAN or with a Russian translation provided) to:

ANYA TUROVININA (Аня Туровинина)

c/o THE CAHILL FAMILY

18 CORNELL RD

MARBLEHEAD, MA 01945

Anya loves photos, so please feel free to include a photo of yourself, your family, or something beautiful to inspire her!

3. If you know anyone flying directly to Kemerovo in the next 2 weeks, please give them my contact info. I would love to send things with them for Anya. Her hospital is located right downtown, on the same street as the Kuzbass Hotel. It would be easy for any visitor to find.

Anya's first driving lesson. We had JUST payed off the driving school
and she had had only 2 weeks of lessons when she was shot.
It was her biggest dream to get her license.

I Need a Hero

2011-08-09T13:55:00.003-05:00

I have waited for six years for God to send me a Hero for Anya. I have done anything and everything I could do to get her here, to no avail. Now, because she was denied the chance to come be with her family, she is lying in a hospital bed, scared out of her mind, wanting nothing but to have us by her side. And I can't. I had a TIA almost 2 weeks ago and cannot safely fly. I'm supposed to be in bed, taking it easy and helping my brain to heal. Instead , I am on the computer and phone for 12 hours at a stretch trying to locate a hero for my girl.

Here are the current facts: Anya was shot by someone at random, at point blank range in a convenience store in her old neighborhood. It's a crime-ridden area and shootings are not uncommon. If you're a MA resident like me, think Dorchester. Anya had two friends with her (Thank God). The man was quickly caught and arrested, but Anya did not fare so well. I had pictured far worse in my head, so I was actually relieved when I first heard she had only a wound to her leg. I was relieved, that is, until I saw the wound myself.

Anya was able to get a friend to bring her her laptop to the hospital so we could skype with her. We were able to get through to her at 1am our time last night and video-chatted with her on and off for an hour. She was heavily medicated and did not always understand what we were saying, but she was so happy to be 'with'us, that is all that mattered. Her face is swollen. She appears very disoriented. She has some injury to her shoulder that is bleeding. It actually looks like a failed IV attempt. Not sure. She let me video her showing me her leg . She has already had two surgeries on it, and the doctor says it's really bad. She was shot so close that the bullet shattered her ankle bone. She has a silver-dollar sized hole right through her. They have some horrible-looking contraption on her whole leg that I can only describe as looking like a torture device. It looked like her leg had pins in it, but I cant imagine they had to do that. Anyway, it is a large metal "cage" with screws into or against her leg.

She lost so much blood she had to have a transfusion, and the Dr says the wound is "contaminated." She is on her 2nd day with a 102 temp - not a good sign. The Dr doubts she'll ever use that ankle again. Being even mildly disabled in that part of Russia is like a death sentence. I had just finished paying for Anya's driving school so she could get her license and work as a courier after January. That's off the table now. And do you think the driving school will refund her $650? Doubtful.

I need a Hero. I need someone, after all these horrible years of waiting, to step forward and tell me they have an answer, a way out. I've had a billion offers and suggestions over the years, but few stay the course. My hope right now is with three people who have been helping all these years. I can't give their names, but one is my friend B.D who has a great connection who has been incredibly supportive and helpful these past years. The next is G.H. who has many connections with the State Dept and such and has been a non-stop source of valid info AND encouragement. The final is M.F. who works in adoption advocacy, child welfare, etc and has great Washington and media contacts. These three people are the ones that could possibly lead me that that "Hero" I am waiting for.

Anya needs to come home. It is so simple and yet it has been the most difficult undertaking of my life and her life. Why? I've stopped asking that. How? That is the question I need to keep holding onto. How can we get her here? How can we make a path? Please pray for a road to finally appear. I am so spent, so exhausted, so scared...I need someone to step forward and say they can light the way. I've prayed a hundred thousand prayers, written more letters and emails than most would venture in a lifetime, called more politicians and USCIS workers and State Dept officials than I would ever care to count. I don't know what else to do.

Hero, where are you?

Recent photo of Anya with her friend's husband

Beside Myself With Grief and Fear

2011-08-08T18:15:00.001-05:00

Anya is having a blood transfusion, she lost so much blood. I cant get through to the hospital. My only contact is sporadic postings by her 2 best friends on Russian Facebook. I'm calling all her friends non-stop but thus far I cannot get thru to any of them. I am honestly losing it. I think I'm going crazy. Too much grief at once.I need prayers for her. I'm just out of the hospital myself and I'm supposed to be avoiding stress and it just keeps finding me. Pray for me too. All this, and the funeral of a beloved friend in a few days. I give up. I've prayed till I can't pray anymore. God, where are you?

PLEASE Pray

2011-08-08T15:34:00.000-05:00

Anya has been shot and is in a Kemerovo hospital. I have no details yet. Please pray for her. Her birthday was just a few days ago. All I can think about is that this WOULD not have happened if this damn government would let her come home. I am heartsick with worry. I don't know what to do. Please pray.

Our Secret Kingdom

2011-07-09T22:23:00.002-05:00

Rebel Shakespeare's Summer Camp is in full swing, which means I am working a good 12-14 hours a day, six days a week. About forty of those hours are spent with the children, on the magical outpost known locally as Winter Island. It is a little emerald kingdom, surrounded by a swath of blue ocean. It looks like this:

If you look very carefully, you can make out a little red blob above and to the right of the parking lot. That little blob is our stage, in the middle of what was originally called Fort William. The island may look small from the air, but it is more than enough space for our little band of actors. There are plenty of places to hide, and every tree offers us a shady rehearsal spot. Sometimes we even rehearse on the beach.

This is the sign that leads to Waikiki Beach. Yes, that's the name! It was christened so by the Coast Guard men that lived there in the 1930s and 40s, and it stuck.

Here you can see the path that leads to the main beach. On the right hand side is a huge moat, home to lots of ducks and an occasional heron...not to mention the many woodchucks that visit there every day. Waikiki Beach is also one of the best locations in all of New England to find blue sea glass ( if you look in the right spot!)

If you head to the beach and take a quick right, up into the hills, you'll find our stage. The view on the way is spectacular. Here it is:

If the wind is right, you can hear the waves hitting the rocks while you're watching one of our shows. The constant sea breeze keeps the actors comfortable on stage most of the time. Our stage itself is set in against a glorious backdrop of greenery...trees and oriental bittersweet and climbing vines. We don't usually need much in way of set pieces with a background like this:

It also serves as a perfect backstage area; No one can be seen through all that green growth! And there is a secret path that leads back around to our concession stand. I always catch actors sneaking back for a treat when they are supposed to be waiting to go on stage!

Even the paths that the actors use for their entrances and exits are magical and breathtaking. Here Hermione in The Winter's Tale awaits an entrance:

The space feels magical, other-worldly at times -- sacred, even. The other day one of my new younger Rebels called it 'our secret kingdom.' I liked that.

Most visitors to the island are so taken with the ocean views, that they sometimes don't even venture into the green spaces. They just sit on a bench or by the gazebo on the water's edge and watch the boats pass the lighthouse. At the end of the day, I like to stop by here, too. It's a perfect place to offer gratitude for a day well spent.

At the beginning and end of each day, you'll find us under this tree.

Some actors circle up before a performance.

Yesterday during our lunch break, I lay in the green shade just listening to all the various conversations happening amongst the children and staff. There was Marcus and some of the older kids running a game of Yee-haw up the path a bit. Enzo busied himself with creating one-of-a-kind tattoos for his friends (with a ballpoint pen, of course.) Cameron stood in the distance up on the hill going over her Juliet lines for the balcony scene. Maisie laid in the lap of a friend and talked about the cake she was making for Monday. Others laughed and laughed at stories I could not hear. In the distance, I could see the Teen group sitting in the grass, talking intently with their directors. Behind us all, the traffic of boats in the harbor was endless. And the sound of rope slapping against the masts and seagulls circling and cawing for food made up a symphony I never tire of hearing.











'Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,











Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.











Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments











Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices











That, if I then had waked after long sleep,











Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,











The clouds methought would open, and show riches











Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked,











I cried to dream again.'





































from The Tempest, by William Shakespeare

Therapy

2011-06-27T14:16:00.005-05:00

Our teeny cottage on the island.

Today was a bright spot. magic. Therapy, really. I left the house very early in order to pick up two of my summer staff - one at home and one at the train station - so that we could have our first staff prep day before the opening of Rebel Shakespeare. I promise you I know how lucky I am. Every summer I wonder how I got so lucky ...directing Shakespeare....with kids....by the ocean.....with the best staff...and getting paid for it. With all that is going on in my personal life (re: adoption woes), this day by the ocean with such great people was healing indeed. And so fun! I never laugh as hard and as much as I do with my fellow directors. Today was a comedy of errors, because our little cottage headquarters was locked and our keys weren't working.( Seems the lock was broken.) So, we had to break in! I had a lovely time getting a boost up to the top half of the broken window to squeeze myself in and over and down into the cottage.(I like proving I can still do things like that:)

We had great fun cleaning it up, although I ended up the designated spider killer. Sadly, I work with a bunch of wimps..lol. Every single one of them is terrified of spiders and would scream every time they ran across one -- and they were everywhere. I tried to save as many as I could but many got squished in tissues or sucked up by the power-vac. Sorry spiders.

This summer we are working on Romeo & Juliet, and so we sat in the shade on the grass and discussed the themes and our different takes on the play and what we envisioned. I also managed to rush to Danvers to catch my two godsons graduating from eighth grade before heading back to the island.

Anyway, this is a boring post, I know, but I felt I needed to post something after the last two depressing posts. Nothing has really changed since I last posted except my attitude. I needed to grieve before I could feel ready to fight this new spate of obstacles.

I can't post about all of them as I don't want anything else to jeopardize my adoption, but I will let you know that my homestudy agency is on the new Russian blacklist posted by the MOE. For those not familiar with adoption, this means that most of the work I have done on my papers these past few months is meaningless and I need to start over. Problem is, I paid the blacklisted agency and now have no funds to hire a new one to start over with. Many of my documents will expire and need to be redone, and I'm pretty sure I will have to file a new 1600a. Even worse is the new threat that the region may temporarily halt adoptions because of a new abuse case. Worst of all? The US is signing a new bi-lateral agreement with Russia on adoptions and it has been suggested they plan to make indy adoptions illegal in all regions of Russia. This would mean my paperwork would not be accepted. The agreement is set to be signed in mid-July. If my homestudy had been submitted when I was there earlier this month, none of this would be a problem.

I'm currently researching adoption grants, but the time involved in applying for them might preclude me from applying. I'm trying to just take as many steps forward a day as I can, while also going back to working full-time and over-time. It's not looking good, but there's nothing I can do but try to get a new agency ASAP and start over on the homestudy. I cried hard for several days (needed) and now I'm ready to fight again.You have to understand that as hopeful as I might seem about Anya, there is still a great deal of pain and regret about her failed adoption, and so this comes into play when I am facing unexpected obstacles in D's adoption. I get scared. I get terrified, really, that another child will be lost and alone. I can't bear the thought of it.

I'm grateful to those of you who offered prayers and support. I'm sorry my life seems to always have such ups and downs. But, as a dear and wise friend of mine told me 'this is what happens when you live your life doing risky things that others wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole.' Most people don't attempt things with so many inherent risks involved, but I think it's worth the inevitable sorrow and pain to be reaching for the hands of children in need. It'll always be worth it. Just know that sometimes a few days of grieving is needed and is, honestly, a healing thing. Swallowing your feelings is never a good idea. Give them room. Give them a voice. Give them the respect they deserve, and then they will give you the space you need to move on.

Seeking Your Help, St Jude

2011-06-25T10:05:00.001-05:00

O GLORIOUS APOSTLE St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the traitor has caused thee to be forgotten by many, but the true Church honors and invokes thee universally as the Patron of Things Despaired of. Pray for me who am so helpless and alone. Make use, I implore thee, of that particular privilege granted to thee by God to bring visible and speedy help where help was almost despaired of. Come to my assistance in this great need, that I may receive the consolations and succor of Heaven in all my necessities, tribulations and sufferings, but in particular, that the obstacles that stand in the way of my adoption of Daniel be removed, and that I may praise God with thee and with all the Saints forever and ever. I promise thee, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor and never cease to honor thee as my special and powerful patron, and to do all in my power gratefully to encourage devotion to thee. Amen.

And a Favor: Dear anti-Catholic friends, I know you mean well when you write and urge me not to seek the intercession of saints. I know you are 'concerned for my soul' and such. But I beg you, please do not use times such as these to try to evangelise me. When I am despairing and seeking God's help and I post a prayer to a saint I love, think long and hard about what you are doing before you write to counsel me against it. Would Christ himself use such a time to try to sway me in some issue, or would He simply love me and support me? I believe the latter. I'm sorry to have to write this, but every single time I post something a bit too Catholic, I have a few well-meaning but obviously inappropriate born-again Christians email me or privately comment to me that what I am doing is "wrong" or even "dangerous." Please give me the benefit of the doubt - my faith is hard-won and my beliefs are built on a lifetime of searching and prayer. I do not arbitrarily seek the guidance and help of the Saints. They are my brothers and sisters who have gone before me. Just as our family here can support is in our suffering, so can they. Please, please do not use this time for proselytizing. It only hurts me, which I know is not your intent. Thank you.

The Balancing Act

2011-06-23T11:16:00.004-05:00

This is how I feel right now!

I've had a rough few weeks. No need to mince words or sugar-coat things. I've tried to be quiet about it all, but if I'm honest, I've really really not liked life the past few weeks. But sometimes there is nothing we can do about that. We just need to 'suck it up' as my daughter likes to say, and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Yes, this is a real undoctored photo:)

However, one thing I've noticed in my life is the balancing act that God seems to favor in our lives. Meaning - when things are really bad, there always seems to be some small silver lining or two to get us through. Do you notice that too? Case in point: amidst all the turmoil of my current personal and professional life, God sends a few bright spots to balance things out:

The bad: the economy continues to slam my business and every day I wonder what bad news I'll get the next morning.
The good: Last week I had three invites for articles, stories and one radio interview about my business. Out of the blue. When I most needed it. I'll keep you posted about when they will appear. My favorite interview was with Art Throb. I can't wait to see the story. The journalist was fantastic.

The bad: I've had a longtime friend decide to cut me out of her life for good. 'We're done.' (her exact words.)
The good: I've had two long-lost friends contact me this week with a wish to have me back in their lives. Out of the blue. Completely unexpected. I never thought I'd ever heard from them again. Sooo.very. happy.

The bad: My desire to write has been zilch since I've been back from Russia and I struggled for motivation to post about what's important to me.
The good: Somebody nominated me for that Circle of Moms thing and I somehow made it into the Top Ten. This was the perfect motivation I needed to keep speaking, and keep the story of the orphanage alive. And it will only continue because Circle of Moms is interviewing the Top 25 this week and will be posting out links to their 6 millions subscribers.

By James Christensen, one of my favorite artists.

A few other things that kept me afloat this week:

Resolving the yucky giardia infestation after several weeks. (joy!)Seeing much more of my students and my returning staff. (bliss!)
Finally getting a logo for my company after 22 years, thanks to the positively amazing George Courage! (HALLELUJAH!)

So, you see, God seems to send little reminders of His love and care for us no matter what. I've had some scary news about my pending adoption, too, and yet God also chooses to bless me with a peace about it. I'm trusting Him.

So, keep your heads up, friends. We have a God who adores us and sends us countless reminders of his Love if we just remain open to them. Keep on the lookout for the reminders in your life today. I'd love to hear about them.

My company's new logo. Isn't it lovely?

No One Ever Talks About Heaven

2011-06-18T23:21:00.003-05:00

We drift from day to day, headed toward somewhere. We take our showers, brush our teeth, put on our socks. We glance in mirrors, wash a dish, check our status, walk a dog. But where do all these tiny incremental acts take us? Where are we going and why don't we ever stop moving long enough to talk about it?
I have a friend who think we go nowhere, another who is sure we join a great infinite spirit of energy, another thinks it is simply one life after another. Of course I have my friends of many varied Christian denominations who, like me, believe we are headed home. Whatever we believe, why don't we talk about it more?

Take a trip with a child. You will hear the inevitable 'Mommy, are we there yet?' Are we there yet?' You will also inevitably hear about their plans: 'When we get to grandma's, I'm going to pick carrots from her garden!' or 'When we get to the beach, I'm going to build the biggest sandcastle ever!' Children not only think about the end of the journey, they imagine what they will do there. Why don't we?

I'd love to start a dialogue here about the Afterlife. Heaven. The Great Abyss. Nirvana. Jannah. Araboth. Whatever you call it and however you envision it, I'd love to hear. I've been fascinated with the world to come since early childhood, but it is such a valued and intimately personal obsession, I have not always shared my curiosity with others. My Dad and I talked about it endlessly (We shared the fascination.) But I rarely talked about it with anyone other than my very closest friends.

I don't want to get into my personal beliefs about it just yet. I want to hear from you. Where do you think you're headed? What do you envision? How often do you think about it? How does your particular faith influence your beliefs about it? What do you hope - or who do you hope - is there?

My Home Away From Home

2011-06-18T08:30:00.003-05:00

Rebel Shakespeare headquarters:)

See this idyllic spot, with the ocean not too far in the background? This is my other home. For the past twenty-two summers I have been a part of something wholly wonderful, and something I still can't believe I make a living at! Rebel Shakespeare.

This is where I get to spend the next two months:

It has all kinds of interesting little hidden spots for rehearsing our plays...

Winter Island, the summer home of Rebel Shakespeare, is a local treasure. I spent many summer days here when I was growing up. My Dad was one of the local political figures who helped 'win' it for the City of Salem when it was no longer in use by the Coast Guard. It's a gorgeous little 'island' that juts out from Salem, near the Willows Park. Here is a partial aerial view:

In just a few short weeks I'll be spending every day there from early morning till later afternoon. I'll be surrounded by a few dozen spectacular kids, and a phenomenal staff. I honestly haven't been able to sleep well the last few nights, because the anticipation is so great! Don't know if my staff will kill me for sharing their photos, but here are some of the wonderful folks who'll be directing with me this summer...

Dan G.

Taylor J....

Mikhaela M..

Maeve H...

Tyrel B (on the right) with his magical significant other, Darcy.

Ryan B..

These are only a few of the jolly souls I get to spend my days with. Maybe now you have a little understanding as to why I'm so unbearably lucky?

Today's Unrelenting Distraction

2011-06-17T12:22:00.003-05:00

Having ADD is a blessing and a curse. If you didn't know this already, a large number of Fortune 500 CEOs have ADD or ADHD. So do an inordinate number of successful entrepreneurs. People with ADD are great at thinking outside the box, forging new paths, and bucking the system in a myriad of creative ways. I fit into that category. The hard part is, there is a challenging side to ADD , too. Its the one most people think about when they hear "ADD". It's 'distractability'. And it's often a curse. Take today. I have a hundred thousand things on my to-do list, but my mind keeps drifting to something not on the list. Over and over again. Non-stop. Unrelenting. Believe me, I've tried. So in an effort to quiet this little uncooperative sliver of my brain, I'm going to indulge it for 15 minutes, here in my blog, and hope it will have the decency to let me get back to my to-do list!

So, here is today's ~~obsession~~ distraction: I can't stop thinking of that little house in the village. You know, the one I want to buy but haven't yet? The one that I have no clear purpose for yet, but feel drawn to save up for? The little home above the orphanage that may serve as a half-way house/job training/ volunteer housing/ safe place for kids aging out? Yes, that place. In fact, I've been so obsessed, I've started creating a little vision book for it. (A vision book is something we use in theatre to help us create and envision the world of the play we are creating.) In this case, my vision book is to help me envision our little Russian Dacha in remote Siberia.
It might look like this:

or maybe this...

Maybe it'll have a porch, like this...

and a sweet little bedroom like this...

There will be the requisite icon corner in the main room...

and of course, an outhouse like this...

this is an actual one in Siberia!

And a table outdoors for the quintessential Russian Dacha meals...

I can see everything clear as day. You may say I'm a dreamer...but I'm not the only one!!!

A very fancy, fairy-tale dacha near St Petersburg.

Brace Yourselves!

2011-06-16T13:12:00.013-05:00

Nastia had a terrible history with dentists. Some of her worst trauma memories from Russia were of the dentist. Her mouth gave evidence she had endured alot. She only has 17 teeth. Her current dentist could not imagine why and how she lost so many, but Nastia remembered. Even when she could barely speak English she tried to tell me about one particular trip to the dentist. He had come to her summer camp when she was young and he pulled a tooth out of her with pliers and no novocaine or meds. How'd he do it? Well, he had several adults hold her down while he climbed on top of her and yanked it out. She remembers screaming and screaming and she remembers them yelling at her. She had a few experiences like that, so no wonder she completely refused the dentist when she first came home.

About 4 months home, and it was obvious she had a really diseased tooth in the back. I got her doctor to prescribe a sedative, just so we could have a pediatric dentist look at it. Didn't work. She was so terrified, she refused to sit in the chair and the dentist yelled at me for not being able to "control" my daughter. We left. ( I wont even mention the name of this dentist, but will say his office is in Danvers, MA. And I do NOT recommend him.) But her tooth needed to come out, so we ended up having to go to an oral surgeon, and use general anesthesia just to get it done. She had surgery in October 2005, just before her 13th birthday. Even with the anesthesia, the experience was traumatic enough, that she didn't go to the dentist again for 2 more years. In those two years, I made a hundred calls, trying to find a dentist that would understand her unique needs and help us. Before we discovered the answer to our prayers : Dr. Polan.

It would be impossible for me to do Dr. Polan justice on this page, but suffice it to say, he was truly a gift from God when it came to Anastasia. I had gone to him once years and years ago and remembered how kind he was. Although he was not a pediatric dentist, I called and talked to him about Nastia's unique situation and asked if he could help. He couldn't have been more supportive of this desperate mother!

Nastia's first visit to Dr Polan was nothing short of miraculous. He told her he didn't even need to touch her mouth for this visit. He would just look. He showed her every instrument and explained its purpose. He let her touch them and when some proved to scary for her, he simply removed them from the room. He blew up a glove balloon for her. He made her laugh. He slowly and surely gained her trust enough that at our next visit, she allowed him to do a little work. He accomplished this by even allowing her to have some control over what happened. If she said stop, he stopped. If she needed questions answered, he answered them calmly and patiently, even though she took up a great deal of his time. He never made her feel ashamed that she was so very afraid. Instead, he met her where she was at, and slowly built up trust. By, I think, the third visit, he had developed so much trust with her that he was able to fill a cavity without her even flinching! Now that's what I call a dentist! My daughter's bravery with Dr Polan even got her dentist-phobic mom to go back to Dr Polan and get a broken tooth fixed!

As the years moved on, it became obvious that Nastia needed braces. She had significant chronic lower tooth pain, and it turns out it was due to the alignment of her teeth. Dr Polan explained that she needed braces and gave us the name of an orthodontist he recommended. At this point, two months ago, Nastia felt ready to handle braces, so we contacted Dr Gough and went for our initial consultation. He was wonderful. His whole office has been so supportive and understanding, and they too, really take the time to put her at ease. Although today's visit was a little traumatic for her (and for my poor hands that got squished for two hours!), she did sooo well and made it through far better than I would have imagined. She had a few tears in the beginning and some initial anxiety that had her wanting to stop, but in the end, she braved through and now she has these to show off!

My brave girl:)

Nastia thanks all of you who prayed for her today!

Thank God for Tindemax

2011-06-15T09:17:00.005-05:00

A very sick Keri sleeping on the floor of Sheremetevo
airport Moscow.

I'm not sure if I posted on my blog about this yet, so forgive me if this is repetitive. Nastia,Bridget, Kim and I did not come home from Siberia alone. We brought critters with us. Little teeny tiny ones you can't see but wreak havoc on your system. Yes, Giardia.

I've had it before. Nastia had it most of her life before she came home to me. It's pretty much part and parcel of living in that part of the world. I won't disgust you with all the lovely details of what Giardia is and what it does, but suffice it to say it is NOT FUN and for some sufferers (like me) it means feeling like absolute crap and not leaving your house for many, many days. The good news is, there is a medication that has an almost 100% success rate in wiping out Giardia. It's not widely used in the US, but it was the only thing that worked for me back in 2005, and I begged my doctor to prescribe it again, so I wouldn't have to wait so long to feel better.

Great news. I got the prescription a few days ago and today is the very first day I've felt better since June 2nd! Thankfully I learned some other important health info in the process. I've been sleeping 18-20 hours every day since I got back and was very worried about what that level of exhaustion meant. Turns out it is simply anemia and a recurrence of EBV (Epstein-Barr). I didn't know you could get mono twice, but evidently you can....kind of. The EBV virus stays in your system for life, and some adults experience a recurrence in times of stress. Stress? What stress..lol?

Anyway, I'm just so relieved to know what's going on, and to know the best medicine for me is to learn how to de-stress, rest and take it easy. Lots of fluids, iron, B supplements...and I should feel better within a few weeks. God answers prayers in very surprising ways sometimes. I had been dealing with incredible stress from all corners of my life recently. It felt like I was being attacked from every angle. I could NOT catch a break. Stress begets stress, and so by the time I dragged myself into the doctor's office, I felt like I was on my deathbed! He explained that I really needed to find a way to not be stressed, because my body was not taking it well. He encouraged me to delegate jobs, rest ALOT and sleep whenever I felt the need to. Otherwise, he said, I could be battling this EBV thing for months.

So, I'm working very hard to take his advice. I'm delegating. I'm cutting away unneeded stress. I'm surrounding myself with helpful, loving friends. I'm working at a pace my body can handle, and I'm asking for help. It's working. Today is the first day in ages that I have felt remotely human. And I need to. I need to get better so I can get back on that path that will lead me back to Russia again.

So, thank you, God, for Tindemax and kindly doctors and friends (hello Caroline!) who go above and beyond to help me with my work. I'm grateful and looking forward to feeling better every day!

Things My Father Taught Me

2011-06-14T13:54:00.008-05:00

"I talk and talk and talk, and I haven't taught people in 50 years what my father taught by example in one week." -- Mario Cuomo

I miss him, my Dad. He died six years ago this week. It was Father's Day, actually, and I had to mix my 'Happy Father's Day' Greeting with my 'goodbye' to him on the phone. He couldn't respond to me verbally, but I knew he was hearing every word, and I could easily fill in what he might say back anyway. My Dad was a talker, and he was giving advice till the last minute, even if I couldn't physically hear the words.

People tell you it gets easier as the years go by, dealing with the death of someone you love. And I guess in some way they might be right. But the missing them doesn't change much. I have felt cheated of these years without my Dad, mostly because I know he could have still been here if he had taken better care of himself. Sometimes I yell at him out loud still, when I'm going through a particularly hard time and he's not here to add his two cents. I know he doesn't mind.

My Dad was quite the character. When your Dad is as magnetic and well-loved as mine was, you have to share him with the world most of your life. But I liked that. I felt so proud to be his daughter. When I was young, if some adult I didn't know recognized me as his daughter, I felt like I could burst open from the pride of it. " You must be Bobby Cahill's Daughter"..I heard more often than not. I actually used to wonder what great selfless thing I must have done in another life to win the reward of being his daughter in this one.

But my Dad and I did not always get along. I don't want to paint a false rosy picture. There was hard times and times of not speaking to one another and, if I'm honest, even knock-down drag-out fights. We were alot a like. Others would back down from him when he raged. Me? I gave it right back to him. He didn't like that. I remember once in 7th grade my mom brought me up to his room for talking back. ( He was bed bound for awhile that year after open heart surgery.) My Dad got up out of his bed and asked me to apologize to my mom. I said no, and he slapped me. Most 13 year olds would cry in shame. Me? I slapped him back and ran. I ran, because I was smart enough to know my Dad was stronger than me even if he did have a torso-long new scar running down his middle. I ran and hid in my cousin's treehouse until I felt the storm had blown over.

In my childhood, I do remember wishing he were more nurturing at times. He wasn't one to hug or say " I love you' until I was an adult. But he was such an amazing Dad in so many other ways, I sometimes still can't believe I was lucky enough to have him. He was always bringing us on some sort of adventure or another. Like the times he would take us out of school for Opening Day for the Red Sox or for the premiere of a really great movie. Sometimes he would take us to work with him. I remember spending time at the State House with him, and feeling so very proud to be by his side. And catching lunch with his co-workers at a little pub nearby. I remember Mike Dukakis had a desk next to his and he cleared off a space for me to sit and write. I remember years later visiting my dad at the Salem Jail (he was Sheriff) and getting to bring food trays to the prisoners. In some ways, I guess it was my first experience with volunteer work!

My father taught me so many valuable lessons that I honestly think I'd be handicapped without them. He was determined to prepare us for life. He never coddled, never comforted, but in his own way, he prepared me for this life better than any other father could have. He used to always remind me when I was whiny about some unfairness or other 'Of course it's unfair! LIFE is unfair.' Or sometime he'd say ' Life is hard, dahlin'. Get used to it.' Might seem harsh to think of someone saying that to a little ten year old girl, but his words have stood me in good stead for 46 years. I wouldn't trade them for anything.

I often wonder what my Dad would think of my life right now. I know he'd have alot to say about it. He always did. When I first brought Nastia home, He called me no less than 5 or 6 times a day 'What is she doing now? Write it down!' or 'What is she discovering today? Write it down!' My Dad was a writer, so he always wanted me writing everything down to save for later stories. I wish I had listened.

Dad, if you can hear me, I want you to know I miss you as much today as I did that Father's Day six years ago. I think about you every day and easily ask myself a dozen times a day 'What would Dad say about this?' I would give a million dollars to hear your voice again, and listen to your laugh. I can't wait to see you again, and dream of the day I can listen to all your stories again. Keep close, Dad. I need you these days. As you told me, life is hard, and lately its been harder than I'd wish for. Give me the strength to meet it the way you did -- head-on and with the courage of a soldier at arms. I love you, Dad. And I know how lucky I am:)

Love, your little girl.

Best Adoption Blogs in the Universe

2011-06-13T20:01:00.002-05:00

I've been checking out the other blogs in the running over at Circle of Moms. I'm happy to see a few of my favorites there. I'm rooting (and voting!) for Diana's Gold to Refine, Courtney's Storing Up Treasures, Christine's Welcome to my Brain ( though she's not hurting for votes!) Kristen's Rage Against the Minivan, and Deanna's Mother The World. I have been a faithful reader of most of these blogs for years. And though I haven't met the writers IRL, I consider many of them friends. Adoptive parents who blog are a wonderfully supportive group, and we support each other in many ways...not just thru our blogs.

But this list over at circle of Moms seemed wanting, if truth be told. There are sooooo many awesome blogs out there that deal with adoption.And some of my very favorites are not listed at Circle of Moms. I thought that posting my own 'Best Adoption Blogs in the Universe' list might be in order. I do, after all, read a heck of alot of blogs, and I have an ever-growing list of adoption blogs I follow regularly. So here's a list of my personal favorites, not counting the ones I already listed above.

Our Family Blog, by Christie Minich, is my daily read. I mean, I check it multiple times a day for updates. Yes, I'm that obsessed. You see, first, I strive to be like Christie. I've never met a more loving and in-tune mom, and I only know her via email, blog and phone! She and her husband have adopted four daughters, many from disruption. I am in love with every one of them and eat up every word she posts about them. I also learn sooo much from Christie, parenting-wise. She is very good at writing about how to put the BCLC method into practice, and I appreciate that a great deal. I'm not a tv watcher, so Christie's blog replaces all those great tv dramas and sitcoms for me. It doesn't get much better than life with her girls.

Smiles and Trials is my other indulgence. Christine's was the first blog I ever read! When I first started reading, I think she had five children or maybe six. Now she has fourteen! Christine is a very strong person and I feel inspired by her ability to mother 14 children while still keeping very sane. She has just the right balance of kindness and discipline when it comes to her children and I learn a great deal from her struggles and her very honest sharing about all that goes into raising her children. Many of her girls are older adopted children from Eastern Europe as well, like my own daughter. I'm also in love with her son Dennis, so I have to check in pretty frequently to see what that little munchkin is up to!

One Mother's Day, by Annie, is my third most common read. She is incredibly upbeat and hopeful even when things are bleak, and I admire that. Her daughter has many of the same issues my daughter does, so I find I am often checking in to see if she has posted anything new about her Anastasia. She is a very empathetic mother, and has such obvious love for her children. I'm a huge admirer.

Good Moms Are Alot Of Things, by Kerrie, is such an honest look at some of the tough parts of adoption, how can I not love it and share it? I'm fascinated by Princess, her daughter whose behavior is so much like that of my daughter her first few years home, I find myself riveted to the stories about Princess, always rooting that she'll make a good choice or learn an important lesson. Kerrie is a brave and honest mom.

Two newer favorites are Marianne's A Home For Darya and Tesney's Our Eyes Opened. Both families adopted a child with Down Syndrome through Reece's Rainbow. Darya has been home for months, and Kirill just got home this week! I'm in love with both of these kids and look forward to years of watching their lives unfold in wonderful ways. Be careful if you plan on checking out their blogs....you won't be able to stop reading!

Well, although these are only a sampling of my favorites, it's all I can do for now...my fingers are done with so much typing! I'll try to do a 'Part Two' soon, and add my other favorite adoption reads.

If you check any of these out for the first time, let me know what you think!

Keeping The Faith, No Matter What

2011-06-13T12:24:00.006-05:00

Anya communicating with us via ipad translator.

Sometimes it feels like you can't catch a break. We all have days like that. Sometimes I feel like I've had six years of that, when it comes to Anya. Last week, while I was in transit to coming home, someone emailed me and asked how I keep hoping for a miracle when all the signs point to no. I don't really have a practical answer to that, but it is true..I do still hope.

This week I came home to a weakening body, a suffering business, a non-existent bank account, and a pile of bills higher than the uncut grass in my overgrown yard. Normally I'd be a ball of anxiety over just one of these, but I'm choosing to have faith and keep walking forward. We all know it does no good to worry, but we fill our days with it anyhow. Of course I wish I weren't sick, and for certain I wish my business were doing better, but stressing over it will probably only make both things worse. I need to rest, pray, and do all I can do make things better. I can't change what's on my plate right now, but I do have control over my attitude about it.

God has shown me time and time again that He cares about the little things. He knows the state of my health, and my business. He sees my bank account. He knows the exact height of the weeds in my backyard jungle. If I put my trust in Him and do all that is in my actual power to help the situation, He promises that He will work everything out for my greater good. Sometimes suffering is part of the plan. Sometimes living in the unknowingness is what will teach us best.

Last night I awoke at 3am gasping for breath. I had been dreaming about D. He was being taken away from me forever, and I was reaching for him, screaming, as a ship pulled away with him on it. I woke up drenched in sweat and shaking all over. That is when my anxiety shows up -- at 3am when my conscious mind is asleep and my deep-seated worries find their way into my dreams. So I prayed. I sleep with my rosary beads ( they are my Grandmother's), so I take them out from under my pillow, and I begin the comforting litany of 'Hail Mary's and 'Glory Be's and soon my heart is at peace again.
I feel very sad of late, but not without hope. I always feel sad for the first few weeks home from Russia. The faces of the children haunt my waking as well as my sleeping life. I have trouble eating, thinking, and just plain functioning. Being sick is, in some ways, a welcome distraction: at least my body manifests how my heart feels.

I don't always share my intimate spiritual experiences, because I have a diverse reader base and I love that. Sometimes talking shop, spiritually speaking, can alienate people I have grown to love. But in this case, I'll make an exception. you can call me crazy if you like, I really don't mind. So... the other day, when I was praying my daily rosary for Anya, I received a very comforting and irrefutable word from above that Anya will be home someday. I was told to keep praying and keep trusting. Only minutes after finishing that prayer, I received a very hopeful email concerning Anya's situation. I'm not at liberty to share, but know that many people in a position to help are still working on this. For me, this email was simply a confirmation that what God had revealed to me was true...she will be home some day.

Who knows what good God is bringing about in the waiting. Look at Kirill's story, if you doubt that.

Today I am sick and sad and fairly pensive, but I am also hopeful. I know that my God is Love Incarnate and He is bringing His daughter Anya home to us in his infinitely perfect timing.

Building A Dream

2011-06-11T14:01:00.000-05:00

Road from the orphanage into the village above.

Although I am still in the midst of an adoption and that, along with keeping my business afloat, is my priority right now, I can't help but spend a good few hours before falling asleep, dreaming of that little cottage in the village of Visotky, above the orphanage.

One of the homes close to the orphange.

If you've been reading my blog, you know this vision has been there for awhile, but I didn't exactly know what purpose it was to serve. it's becoming clearer. First, I want to share that I pray for wisdom and insight about this every day. Slowly, in prayer and through the inspiration of others, I am gaining the confidence to move forward.

One of the bigger homes, with beautiful window-work.

We now know that a decent house in that tiny village costs less than $2,000. That is a manageable fundraising goal for the next few months. We also know that the children at this orphanage need so much more than the orphanage staff can give them. They are desperate for everything from being taught basic life skills to job training to emotional support to all kinds of advocacy. And there is only so much one can do from here abroad. Having a home base there will solve so many problems.

My FAVORITE house in the village..an artist obviously lives here!

The purpose of the home can evolve, too. Perhaps first it functions only as a home base for volunteers who wish to go over for stretches of time. Maybe later it can offer a place for job training -- computers are new to the area and any kind of computer training will mean work for those trained! Perhaps further along, it can evolve into a half-way house for those aging out of the orphanage.

Further up the road that leads to the school.

No matter what initial form it takes, this home will first and foremost show all that 'we mean business.' We are not going away, we are not trying to put a band aid on a bleeding wound and then leave. We are not going to forget them once an adoption or two is finalized.

I told the Director about my idea and of course, once again, she thought I was crazy. Not crazy because I was naive..but crazy because, as she said, 'Why would you want to spend time here?' I told a select few kids about our "dream" of buying a house there, and they were beyond excited. I told them that it would take a great deal of planning and time.

Coal delivery! It's common to see big piles of coal in front of the homes.

So, please weigh in. Of course I know I need to get the 501c3 status first. And of course I know I need a business plan , etc. All these things have been in the works for awhile. But do tell me about any ideas that have been percolating in your own mind about this. What do you see? How do you see it working? Do you envision yourself being a part of it? Fill me in!

And in the meantime, for the sake of the children there, don't forget to vote for this blog, here-- if you haven't already.

Happy Brainstorming!

Yes, someone lives here. Another reason we could be of help there.

Top 25 Adoption Blogs

2011-06-11T06:10:00.000-05:00

I'm succumbing to pressure. So far three very good online adoption-related friends have taken time out of their busy lives to urge me to add my blog to Circle of Moms current challenge to list the top 25 adoption blogs on the web. I had already been to the site to vote for three of my friends on there (Courtney, Diana, and Christine), but a final very poignant email from an online friend convinced me there was merit in adding my blog to the listing. (When I got there, it was already added!)

Usually I hate stuff like this because...

1. It's competitive, and I hate that.
2. It means bugging people to vote for you, which I also hate.
3. It usually serves no real purpose.

But this time, it does. On June 21st, the 25 adoption blogs with the most votes will get featured and highlighted on the Circle of Moms site and have a viewership of potentially 6 million other moms. What my most recent friend suggested is that this could be VERY helpful for the orphanage in the long run. More readers means more interest means potentially more donations means maybe buying that house in Siberia as a home for kids aging out of the system is NOT such a far-fetched idea!

And so, I gulp my pride and embarrassment and humbly ask you to take a minute to click on this link and vote for this blog. You just click on the little yellow thumbs-up button. Only one vote per day for the next ten days.

Since I started so late, the chance of getting one of the top 25 spots is pretty small, but it's worth the attempt.
If you read Diana's blog or Courtney's, you should vote for them, too!

Kirill -- Just One More Reason Why I Believe in a Loving God

2011-06-09T15:37:00.003-05:00

This is Kirill and his brother Clayton. You probably know all about Kirill, especially if you've been reading my blog for more than a month. Actually, if you've been reading ANY Eastern European adoption blogs lately, you know Kirill's story. Kirill is not supposed to be home. Kirill was refused a family by a very backwards judge and the chances of getting that decision overturned were, well frankly, almost impossible. But Kirill had more prayer warriors than his family could even count. And in a nothing-short-of-a-miracle Russian supreme court hearing a few weeks ago, this horrid decision was overturned --- Kirill won the right to his family.

Of course all of you reading this know that Kirill and every other child in this world has the right to a family. Kirill shouldn't have had to wait, but in God's penchant for turning horrible situations into something out of a fairytale, Kirill's wait was turned into some mighty good. If you didn't know, Kirill's story went pretty viral when it was learned in the adoption community that he was denied adoption. Everyone blogged about it, everyone prayed, and soon an adorable little boy in a remote Russian orphanage was on everyone's minds and hearts.

The word spread so quickly and so far (actress Patricia Heaton even taking up the cause) that Reece's Rainbow's site nearly crashed (or DID crash, I think!) Word got out -- about Kirill. About Down Syndrome. About special needs children adoption in Russia. About adoption in general. About the type of parents we all should have -- Tesney and Greg who went to the ends of the earth more than once to bring their little boy home.

And so, in God's miraculous way, MORE good came out of that silly judge's decision than bad. One person whose mindset was so limited as to think a child like Kirill would be better off in an orphanage...this ONE person's wrong-minded decision ended up being one of the conduits that opened the flood gates for special needs adoption -- something none of us could have imagined.

How many more Down Syndrome or HIV+ or otherwise special needs children are being (or will be) adopted because of Kirill, we may never know. But God used him and his family and their pain for GOOD. That's what God can do -- take a seemingly tragic, hopeless situation and turn it on its head. I know that is what He is doing with my Anya, too. I know a greater good is being served by our suffering. I may never know what it is, but I trust it. I know it. God is faithful and good ALL the time. Not some of the time or when its convenient or when it 'looks' likes He's helping us...but ALL.THE. TIME.

Thanks for the reminder Kirill. Love wins. LOVE WINS! In the end, love always wins.

Blogger Woes...But Catching Up!

2011-06-08T07:00:00.006-05:00

Sorry to worry some of you! We were so busy Saturday, I was unable to post and figured I'd post from Moscow on the way back. I tried posting from Moscow, but the connection wasn't strong enough and it wouldn't go through. Then we had NO internet in London due to the network being overused, and then I was so sleep-deprived Monday night when we arrived home, and yesterday, that I simply couldn't put my fingers on the keyboard for more than a minute. I slept pretty much all day and night yesterday...43 hours straight with no sleep will do that to anyone!

I'm rested now, and gathering my thoughts and will post all I can today and tomorrow. It was an eventful trip, that's for sure. SO much to report, and I have no idea how to share it all. Some of it I cant. I also cannot post as many photos as I used to. I can post a few, but not with any names. Hopefully you'll recognize kids. I need to go do some adoption stuff, but will be on in a few hours to post about the 2nd trip to the orphanage. For now, here's a photo of me with someone you may recognize!

Orphanage Day, Continued

2011-06-01T12:42:00.005-05:00

So, as a continuation of the last post: our chaperone was the woman who spoke in favor of Nastia's adoption in court all those years ago. She also ended up allowing us to stay an extra two hours past the 'allotted' time.

So when we finally arrived back at the orphanage, we were sadly told that a pre-arranged event was going on that we could not attend, and we would have about 2 hours to kill before we could be with the children. We sat in the little room that they always bring guests to, and thought about what we should do. Finally they decided we could go spend some time with the 'little ones' group, but no photos and no video would be allowed. We entered and for a split second the children looked confused, and then a huge smile broke open on every face and they rushed to me yelling gleefully 'Kitty! Kitty!' (this is what my name sounds like to them.) I got a thousand hugs and I made sure to say each of their names outloud when I greeted them, so they would know I remembered them. I introduced them to Kim and Bridget and in no time we each had our own little entourage sitting on our laps and about our feet, asking a hundred questions. The first thing I noticed was that there were sooo many more little ones. There was a new little girl Ksusha with dark hair and an olive complexion, very beautiful. She is about 3. Then there was a new Vanya, Tolya, and 3 other boys I forget the name of. Two children I love were missing -- Veronika, whom they said is visiting her grandfather, and Valya, whom no one seemed to know where she went. I hope to find out on Friday.

But all the other ones were there. Elena had a huge smile on her face, Polina was very very shy but sat on Kim's lap readily. Vanya asked me a hundred questions and then went off to play. Vlad, the one with autism, was thoroughly delighted to see us. He clapped and swayed and broke out in a huge smile. Nikita, to my surprise, was smiling! And talking! And interacting with us! To his special guardian angel who made his spiderman blanket...I went back later in the day to give it to him, but he was napping with all the others, so they gently laid it on him so he would see it upon waking, and one of the caretakers (one I adore) started to cry and hugged me and thanked me for caring so much about the children. I told her the blanket was made by someone else, who is praying for Nikita. She hugged me harder:)

Kirill had been moved up to the older group, so he was not there. But soon, some of the older children heard we had arrived, and came rushing in -- Anya, Christina, Valya, Lera, Galya, Rosa and a few others. They were all dressed in adorable handmade, make-shift costumes for their 'Spectakle', which was a small event they were throwing for the local coal miners. The miners come at the end of the year to congratulate the 9th graders, who are done with school. I'm guessing it is also to suggest coal mining as a career choice to the the graduating boys.

So we stayed for about 45 minutes and played with them, until it was obvious the chaperone was hoping we'd move on. And we were asked to either remain in the little room or go for a walk until their show was over. I'll write about the rest of the day in my next post. It's almost 1am and I need to go to bed. Today was a very intense day and I need some recovery time:)

Where Do I Begin?

2011-06-01T02:35:00.002-05:00

There is just so much to write about yesterday's visit, and yet very little time to do so. It seems like our first 4 days here were 'wait, wait wait' and now we have so much to accomplish in the next few says, we don't know how we will do it!

First, lets start with what's most important: praise. Thank you, my God and Sustainer, for listening to the prayers of so many and granting us a clear path into the orphanage. It may not have been for as long and as free as we'd like, but the fact that we were able to visit after such significant roadblocks were thrown in our path is nothing short of a miracle. I felt God's presence with us all day. I knew He was close by, giving us the energy and calm we needed to deal with such a stressful situation! I could write pages in praise of what He did, but I know you all want details on the orphanage.

We left at 7am and drove the 3 hours to Prokopyevsk. We got the the orphanage, but we were given strict instructions by the 'higher-ups' in Kemerovo that we could not 'set foot outside the car.' Nadezhda's secretary came out and joined us in the mini-van to direct us to where to pick up our official Chaperone. Worst part? I could see D sitting on the steps out front with two older boys. He was craning his neck to see us, and I waved and waved, and he looked so sad when we drove away.

As we drove back into town to pick up the chaperone, Nadia, the secretary, bubbled with excitement over our visit and asked hundreds of questions. She likes me, and supports our visits, so I felt free to ask her questions. I asked her why we were being monitered this time when we've come freely for 6 years. She was honestly dumbfounded, too. 'Keri, I do not know! It is very strange, but do not worry. It is ok.' I then asked her if the chaperone would be nice. " Oh, Keri, she is wonderful! It is L.P., the Social Worker. She loves the children and she knows you!" I tried to think of who it might be, and when she exited the Ministry building, my heart was relieved -- it was the very Social Worker who had been at my first meeting with Nastia and who accompanied her to court and who spoke in support of my adopting her! It was such a miracle. The ride back to the orphanage was actually not stressful but joyful! I told her I remembered her, and she smiled her big gold-toothed smile and said "Kanyeshna!" (of course!) She asked Nastia how her life has been these past six years and told her she was happy to see her.

Oh no! Anya is here and we are heading to Nastia and Anya's father's gravesite. I will post the rest in a few hours! So sorry!

Hell On Earth, But Trusting the Light

2011-05-30T09:33:00.004-05:00

There are no words, no words, to express the darkness that came our way today. I don't think it's even worth it to talk about it, except to say that I feel completely and utterly spent. I know why so many non-profits start here and then give up. I know why adoptions don't happen much here anymore. I know why parents chose never to come back here after they've adopted. I wish I could say more, but I can't, for fear of making it worse. What I CAN say is how unexpected it was to be attacked from the American side today. What was that woman thinking?

Lately I have received an endless stream of messages, emails and even public FB posts urging me to consider giving a bribe to a Russian official. Before you weigh in on one side or the other, let me humbly remind you that:

#1 it's illegal,

#2 it's unethical, and

#3 it's immoral.

Let me also add that I would never do this and that I also know it would not work anyway. After receiving over dozen of these messages, I finally posted a simple but firm 'enough is enough' on my FB page, and a flood of replies ensued. Basically, some 'friends' decided to hijack the post and make it a debate about bribery in general. Not very helpful when we're completely in over our heads with complex problems halfway across the world. I simply wanted the emails and messages to stop. Fair enough, dont you think?

Well, one woman in particular decided to hijack the already hijacked thread, and suddenly, out of the blue, accuse me of being pro-abortion -- saying that I had 'no right to comment on bribery' when I am obviously pro-abortion. She said I was a hypocrite and even questioned my faith. Hello? Have you met me?

First, I have never ever talked about my stance on abortion for a very personal reason. But you, unkind friend, have forced me into a corner I want to get out of.

Melissa Marie Macy, I am PRO-LIFE. I have always been PRO-LIFE, and I always WILL be Pro-Life. But I sadly have MANY friends and family who have experienced abortion and I choose not to hurt them further by discussing the issue in venues they frequent -- like facebook and my blog. Those conversations are for private, intimate communication, where words cannot be misconstrued. No help will be gained by a bloodbath online. Personal, honest and thoughtful communication between friends is how I choose to communicate my personal beliefs about abortion.

Anyone who knows me in ANY capacity knows my complete and utter adoration of and love for children. Since I believe, and since science shows, that life begins at conception, I am pro-life. I have never ever stated otherwise, though you accuse me of posting 'pro-abortion' beliefs. You, my false friend, are a liar. Don't misconstrue that statement either -- I am not resorting to name-calling, I am stating a fact. YOU LIED. Therefore, you are a liar. You chose to post something:

#1 that you could not possibly prove as true,

#2 in a public forum for all to see and get incensed about, and

#3 at a time when you KNOW I do not HAVE the time or energy to defend my beliefs.

Umm, we're a little busy here if you haven't noticed. We're fighting a losing battle against indifference, callousness and mind-numbing beauracracy , trying so hard -- and against impossible odds -- to find a way to open a door that has just been shut in our faces. You chose to take my focus elsewhere. Doesn't seem very godly to me.

Melissa, if God ever calls me to discuss my beliefs in a public forum, I do. And without hesitation. But this issue is so painful for so many people I know and love, I chose to wait for His Lead in when and how to share. God has made it abundantly and overtly clear to me that Facebook (of all places!) is not the place for that discussion. He, our God, is gentle, forgiving, humble and compassionate. Where was your compassion when you lashed out at me?

I am not going to fight a battle that God hasn't asked me to fight. My job is here, He has made that clear. My job does not involve paying bribes. He has made that clear, too. And my job is certainly not to entertain callous and insensitive and UNTRUTHFUL remarks from someone who chose to 'kick' me when I was down -- someone who purports very strongly to be a Follower of Christ, but acts very counter to that. Thus, I've deleted you -- something I have yet to do on facebook (delete someone because of something hurtful they have said or done.)

I do not hate you, I do not wish you ill....but boy am I angry with you. Given the level of inconsideration and viciousness of your words and your decision to bear false witness against me in a public forum, I choose to not interact with you any longer. I have enough REAL battles to deal with, without having to fight false new ones to take me off task. How would you feel if someone decided to accuse you publicly, in view of all your friends and family, of adultery? Can you imagine the horror of that for just a moment? Maybe it'll help you to understand the degree of hurt you unleashed in my life today.

I wish you peace, Melissa, but please do not contact me again. Ever.

And to all my friends who are pro-abortion and now wish to discuss my beliefs with me, I am happy to...just not here. In person, face to face, with love and respect....that's how I want to share.

An online public forum is no place for such an important conversation.

Obviously Ms. Macy does not know anyone personally who has experienced abortion. (Or maybe she does, but they are too scared to ever share their pain with her because they know they would be judged.) Melissa, just about every person I know who experienced an abortion carries terrible and irrevocable guilt about it. And often pain. And shame. And sometimes regret. It is not my place to judge them. It's my place to LOVE them. And you would have me bring their pain and shame to light on a social media site??? Are you crazy? God is their judge, not you or I.

And God, while I'm mentioning You..I want to reaffirm that I trust in YOU. I listen only to you. And I await your wisdom in this current horrible mess here in Kemerovo. I don't know how this situation can be fixed, but you do.You will find a way. I know it.

Photos

2011-05-29T06:19:00.001-05:00

I realize I've posted all my photos on facebook and almost none here! Here are some favorites from last week in Moscow. Enjoy!

First day, headed to Red Square

Old Czar checking his blackberry:)

Orthodox Priest in front of St Basil's

me and my girl - Red Square

Mother and son begging.

Bridget in the garden of St Basil's.

Bridget and Nastia walking near Red Square