Our visit to Ukraine, first installment of pictures

I think I can now say we're in Ukraine.  :)  In fact, we are in the great city of Kiev.  Tomorrow, we leave to go to Seth's region, so today, before and after our SDA appt, we walked around and saw the beauty and culture surrounding this city.  It's old.  It's not uncommon for our driver to point to a building and say it's 1,000 years old.  1,000 years.  The US hasn't even been a country that long, and they have buildings still standing from that era.  It's a city ripe with history and I love that!  I cannot get enough of people watching.  It's an interesting culture.  Everyone drinks and smokes.  We stick out like a sore thumb.  The buildings are old style soviet union block housing.  Everyone lives in apartments.  We have yet to see a house.  The outside and inside of the apartment complexes are usually run down, decaying.  But the inside of each apartment is owned by a tenant and can be much nicer.  Ours is a modest apartment.  It's served our needs. 

This is a view of the outside of our apartment:

The hall and elevators:

Our front door:

Our living room/ bedroom/office

Our kitchen:

We have a washer in the bathroom.  Yes, you read that right.  Here is our dryer: 

This is very common.  We see clothes lines drying all over town.  Lots and lots of towels and sheets. 

These next three are pics of our view from our window:

Coming up next, some of the culture, magnificent cathedrals and the SDA building. 

Because of Dakota

Here we sit, in country, waiting to rescue our little boy.  A boy who's waited for six long years.  And make no mistake.  This is a rescue.  Today, I read through all the adoption news that I had missed and came to this:

Dakota.  A sweet little boy, born with delays, assigned to live out his life in a mental institution.  I've known about Dakota for several months.  I learned today, he died while waiting for someone to come get him.  He was eight.  This hurts my heart.  I've seen pics and I'm pretty sure I know what he died from, and it sure wasn't his mental delays.  How can you love a little boy from clear around the world, and cry when you learn they've died a horrible, lonely, hungry, desperate death?  But I do.  Because I love children. 

This little boy is in the same orphanage that Dakota was in:

Nolan has flat feet.  Incredible, huh?  Why hasn't he found a family?  Please, please, please, someone go get this little boy.  Nolan is seven and doesn't deserve this.  We'd go get him but he's too far away from Seth, requiring a seperate dossier and a lot more money.  Yes, we've talked about it and looked into what we'd need to do.  That's how badly I know he needs out of there.  Don't let what happened to Dakota happen to Nolan. 

These kids are real children, and they need families.  If we can do this, you can do this too.  We're proof you don't have to be rich or have the perfect family.  They don't need rich or perfect.  They just need you.  Consider what your family can do to help a little boy.  A little boy like Nolan.  He is a child of God and he needs help.  He needs a family.  He needs you. 

Here is Nolan's link on Reeces Rainbow.  Please consider saving Nolan. 

http://reecesrainbow.org/nolan117

How do you know you're ready?

When the only thing left on your to-do list is to re-paint your toe nails and copy your taxes.  :)

It's time.  A process that should have taken us eight to nine months will be done in five.  I believe there's a reason for that.  I believe it's because he needs us that bad.  Bad enough to move mountains, speed up slow moving governmental entities and allow us to slide in under the wire of so many cut offs and delays.  We have truly been blessed.  There is no way it could have gone this fast if we were merely acting on our own.  Further proof that Seth belongs here, with us.  Now. 

In just a few days, Jeremy and I will board the biggest plane we've ever flown on, to fly fourteen hours to get to our son, to tell him he finally has something no child should ever be denied- a family.  By this time next week, we will have our referral in hand and will be on our way to his region, to tell him that against all odds, we found him, and we're bringing him home. 

The hardest part is yet to come, and we know that.  Being away from our children will be difficult.  I already miss them so bad I ache.  I've never been away from my children for this long.  The only time I've been away for longer than a weekend was when my dad died, and then, Jeremy was here. 

Traveling home for fourteen hours with an orphan will be difficult.  Keeping any child entertained and happy for that long is hard.  Doing it solo, with a little boy who is fresh out of an institution, who will be traumatized and homesick, who is a virtual stranger, who speaks a different language and has CP will be grueling.  That's an understatement. 

Integrating him into our home will be challenging and at times, frustrating.  He's been neglected in every way possible.  Kids are resilient, and Jeremy and I are tough, but we are in for the challenge of a lifetime.  We know that.  We will need to learn to navigate the waters of trust issues, bonding, cerebral palsy, therapies, IEP's and advocating like crazy for a child who needs us. 

We have so much to learn.  And Seth needs us to hit the ground running.  So we will.  Remember that we never said this would be easy.  We're not doing it because it's easy.  It's not.  We're doing it because it's so darn worthwhile.  Because he's worth it.  Because his right to a family, to love, to therapy, to an education, is far more important than our right to an easy life. 

Please, please keep our family in your prayers while we meet him, discover who he is, and learn how to best help him.  Pray that his heart will be prepared for us, that he will trust quickly and easily, that he will feel peace.  Pray that Jeremy and I will have that parental intuition with him right from the start, that as he and I pray together, that we will be led to know what's right for Seth, a child we barely know.  Pray that we will have wisdom, compassion and above all, faith- faith in Heavenly Father, in His plan, a plan that we don't always understand.  Faith in a little boy who is stronger than me and has already overcome more than I can comprehend- rejection, abandonment, institutionalization, neglect.  Faith that if he's overcome this much, he will overcome so much more once given a chance, love, a home and a family. 

Believe in him.  Believe in this little boy.  He has so much to teach us.  This little boy is going to amaze us all!  I know that.  I know that way down deep in my soul.  He is going to change the very fabric of our family, in so many good ways.  In a year, we are going to wonder how we ever made it this far without Seth.

Welcome to the next phase of our journey....  :)

Ten

There's a little boy on the other side of the world, who is sitting in a crib right now.  Because he can't yet walk, they won't let him play on the floor.  It's part of their culture. It's likely he's not walking because they won't let him out of the crib to strengthen his muscles.  Vicious cycle.  He may or may not have any toys to play with.  Depends on whether the caregivers thought to give him any.  He might just sit there, looking at the walls.  Thinking. 

He's watching the door.  Wondering if today could be the day.  He's wondering where his mama and papa are.  When they will come to rescue him.  And tonight, he will go to bed, disappointed again.  He'll wake up tomorrow, and repeat it all.  Sit, hope, watch, wonder, disappointment, sleep.  It's been his life every day for six years now.  And that would be his future too.  No education, no therapy, no possibility of a job, marriage, family.  Just a crib.  And the walls.  And disappointment.  How much sadness can one little boy's heart handle? 

In a week and a half, we will fly out to get him.  To rescue him from his crib, from his life.  We will give him what he needs.  A family, so much love, an education, therapy, hope, a future.  In two weeks, we'll walk through the orphanage door and he will be brought to us.  As he is brought down the hall, he still won't know what's going on.  He won't know til he enters the room and is told.  He'll be told that today, he's been chosen.  That today, his mama and papa came.  That he's coming to America.  He'll know he now has a mama and a papa, six siblings, a big house, a school, therapy, a church, and more toys than he's ever seen in his life.  And absolutely no crib in sight.  I can't imagine what thoughts will race through his head, what emotions, what hope, and yes, what fear.  Can there be any greater joy for a child? 

Two thousand, two hundred and seventy four days spent in a crib. 

Ten more to go.  Just ten more. 

Two week check-in

In two weeks, Jeremy and I will be on a plane, flying to Eastern Europe.  In two weeks, our lives will change forever.  In two weeks, our eyes will be opened to the fate of orphans in third world countries, and especially the fate of orphans with special needs.  I expect that Jeremy and I will never be the same.  We will view the "needs" we have in a totally different light.  After we get home, we will drive up to our six bedroom home, complete with cable TV, closets full of clothes, buckets and baskets filled with toys and three cars (although none of them fancy or new).  As we talk on one of our five cell phones, we will open our freezer to more food than orphans see in a year.  We will, I'm certain, remember the little friends we made half way around the world.  And our hearts will break for them.  Our hearts will forever be changed.  We will assess what a "need" really is.  We can already feel that coming. 

So what are we feeling right now?  Excited, nervous, scared, worried, lonely, hopeful, helpful, blessed, fearful, overwhelmed, stessed, anxious, ready, not ready...  And that's just the tip of the iceberg. 

Do we think this will be easy?  Ummm. no.  How could bringing home an orphan, institutionalized his entire life, with CP, who doesn't speak our language ever be easy? 

Will we struggle, cry, worry and fret?  Yep. 

Will we see progress?  Every day.  Progress will be measured in small steps.  Small increments.  Moments of personal victory. 

Will we see success?  Of course we will.  Not that he will definitely overcome all, because we certainly don't know that, but he will certainly overcome more than if we left him in an orphanage. 

Will we have days where we wonder what we were thinking?  It's almost certain.

Will we have regrets?  Momentarily, maybe.  I'm being honest here.  Long term, no. Of that, I am certain.

Why?  Because in the end, Jeremy and I recognize that his need for a family, his right to live outside of an institution, his right to live, trumps our right to have an easy life.  Because in the end, his needs are more important than our comforts. In the end, we know what his most basic need is, and we can undoubtedly fill it.  His most basic need is to have a family, to be loved.  Something that no child should ever be denied.

Jeremy and I are not delusional enough to think this will be a piece of cake.  We did not enter into this ever thinking it would be.  We know it will be dang hard.  Probably harder than anything we've been asked to do before.  Does that mean we shouldn't do it?  Of course not.  Because He who asked us to do it will also give us what it takes to do the job.  And we know the blessings will far outweigh the trials.  We know that watching a child take off and soar will be worth any amount of effort, toil and tears that is required. 

Not everything in life is supposed to be easy or comfortable.  If your life is easy, you probably are not stretching yourself far enough.  Our biggest growth comes from those things that are hard. We can do hard things.  We can most definitely do hard things for a child.  A child who has nothing... when we have SO MUCH.  Look around you.  Look inside yourself.  Let hard things change your life. 

The Worth of a Soul

This week has brought excitement and anticipation to our home.  For those who don't know, we've received our SDA appointment- September 14th.  For those not familiar with adoption terms, that's our invitation to come to his country, view his file and accept his referral.  That referral is what gives us permission to go visit him in his orphanage and start the in-country adoption paper chase.  Jeremy and I are busily booking flights, learning more of his language, spending additional time with our children in anticipation of being gone for a while, and finishing up home improvement projects that will likely get neglected for a while once we're home as I devote myself to him and his needs, as well as playing with and loving on our other children.

Spending time as a family will be our primary focus for the first few months as Seth (Phillip) learns what it means to have a mama and a papa and siblings.  Anything non-critical that does not directly pertain to one of our children will likely be put on the back burner.  Commitments will be kept at a minimum.  Errands will be reduced.  Life will be simplified.  A child who was cast aside and abandoned will grow wings and fly. 

We have much to teach him. Much to share with him.  But I am equally sure that he has much to teach us.  He will teach us about courage, hope, faith, the strength of the human spirit, compassion.  We are honored to be a part of that.

We have been warned that while in-country, we will be pointed at, stared at, scoffed at.  Passerbyers will pity us, because we are "burdened" with a child who can't walk.  They don't understand why anyone would keep a child with a special need.  They certainly don't understand why someone would pay $25,000 to fly half way around the world to adopt a child with a special need.  They don't know what we know.  They don't know the worth of a soul.  They don't know he is fearfully and wonderfully made, perfect in every way. Perfectly the way his Heavenly Father made him.  Certainly more perfect and closer to God than I am. 

Please continue to follow us on our journey.  The end is near.  In a few short weeks, we will begin to hug his hurt away, tell him that after six long years of neglect, he has a family.  We will take his hand, walk him out of his orphanage and bring him home.  To his family.  Forever.

Surreal experiences

Typing in "Seth Lunnen" on his Shriners application was very surreal.  Like when  you make your first doctors appt for a newborn and you say that name.  It made him tangible.  Another little Lunnen.

Entering his address as our address made him part of our family.  One of ours.   

Entering his country as the United States of America... made me cry.  And it made me very proud of my country.

Little does he know what's about to come his way!!