So let's review shall we? What's been going on in Moscow in the four short weeks since we left there floating on a cloud of baby bliss?
First there were the bombs. Our hearts were heavy. We wondered what it must be like for a city to grieve something like that. What it must feel like to go to work everyday or send your children to school knowing that a man has promised more like it in the days to come? It's unimaginable really. We weren't terrified to go to Moscow. But flying in and out of its main airport and traipsing all over the city, well, the bombings weighed heavily on our hearts and minds.
Then, last week, a woman in Tennessee decided she could no longer handle the seven year old boy she adopted from Russia, so she sent him back to Moscow ALONE with a NOTE saying she no longer wished to parent him. A NOTE! She paid a man $200 to meet him at the airport and drop him off at the Ministry of Education. Russian officials of course went ballistic and threatened to halt all adoptions to America altogether. I first read the story on Friday morning. I read it, removed my computer from my lap and walked into Andre's room. I looked at the crib and the rocking chair and the pretty clouds on the wall and I fell to my knees. I prayed. PRAYED. The bars of the crib became an alter rail where I cried, begged and pleaded to the almighty universe. Please, please, PLEASE let us bring him home.
The cherry on top was the plane crash in Russia the next day. The one where an "aging Russian aircraft" killed 96 people including the president of Poland. I read one story describing how the daughter of the Polish president met the aircraft that carried home the caskets of both her parents. She walked out to the the tarmac, knelt before the coffins and wept. I wept with her.
The waiting alone was hard enough without two national disasters and the threat of closing the adoption program thrown in. I'm sure the Russians on our flight will be super excited to see a couple Americans on their way to adopt a baby. I can only hope that our little love seedling can push through the brambles and get through to the other side. I have to believe that it will.
Somehow I've found a place inside myself that trusts the timeline of my life. For instance, I first started trying to get pregnant four years ago, and I never did. But I wouldn't change one single thing about the past four years, not one. I wouldn't change one thing about any of the years of my life for that matter. So I will trust that this will work out, like everything else has. We are still on schedule to go, and can only do what we've always done, and will continue to do: wait and see what happens. It's the only way to live really, it makes things interesting.