The Amazing Officer B

If you read this post, you know that February didn't start off on a productive note.  After lots of incredible progress in January, the beginning of February involved more redoing than doing.  In fact, after I wrote my sad post, I got a call from our courier saying that yet another document had been certified incorrectly and had to go back to the Secretary of State.  Another document to fix, and I was already losing my mind over the fingerprint appointment letters that still hadn't shown up.

Fast forward to Friday, February 6.  I rushed home from school pick-up, absolutely certain that the long-awaited fingerprint appointment letters would be in our mailbox.  After all, it had been 15 long days of waiting, and U.S. Immigration had pretty much promised 10 to 14.

The mailbox was empty.  Again.

I confess, all my determination to wait patiently left me.  The clock was ticking ever closer to Ch*nese New Year, which would mean delays in getting our paperwork through the final stages of certification.  It just wasn't right that getting fingerprint appointment letters in the mail was taking longer than our entire twelve-page home study.  (I mean, you should be able to print and mail a one-page appointment notice infinitely faster than you can write a short novel about someone's entire family, right?)

So I called U.S. Immigration, and in my best my-daughter-needs-heart-surgery voice, I told them that this process was taking way. too. long.  We had a letter from a pediatric cardiologist requesting that they expedite our case because of our daughter's need for surgery; however, I'd been told I couldn't submit it until we got fingerprint appointment letters.  Thankfully, the Immigration Officer who answered the phone gave me permission to send my expedite request.

I quickly pulled up our expedite email, which I may or may not have written earlier that week and saved in my Drafts Folder.  I glanced at the time as I sent it.  It was after 4:00pm on a Friday afternoon; I couldn't imagine there was any way someone would have time to look at my email, let alone actually respond, before the weekend.

About 32 minutes later, my phone rang.  It was Jeremy saying that the Immigration Officer assigned to our case had read our email and responded. The Amazing Officer B had called him to say that she'd gotten our email, that she would be working the next day (Saturday!), and that she'd be glad to email our fingerprint appointments if we did not receive them in Saturday's mail.  What?!?

I mentioned before that we've been blessed by some pretty awesome people who have walked with us in one way or another on our adoption journeys.  The Amazing Officer B is absolutely one of them.  True to her word, she called the next afternoon.  Our letters still hadn't arrived, so she sent them via encrypted email with some totally adorable password like "sweetgirl".  Not even kidding.

With appointments in hand, we were able to drive to our state capital that Monday to walk-in for fingerprinting.  (Our actual appointments had been arbitrarily assigned for a date later in February.)  No one in the office mentioned we were there on the wrong day, and we were in and out in less than ten minutes.  It was a fun little date, and we even had Cheesecake Factory gift cards to pay for a super yummy lunch.  (Thanks, Mom and Dad!)

Officer B said she should have our fingerprint results in her computer by the next morning and would email our approval as soon as she finished it.  Getting the approval certified would involve another trip to our state capital (about five hours roundtrip), so I made sure my schedule was clear for the next day and found a friend to hang out with my boys.

Then things started to get crazy.  Before bed, Li'l Dude had a fever, so I canceled the babysitter.  The boys would just have to join me on my adventure across the state.  The next morning we hung out at home, waiting for the phone to ring.  When it did, it was Jeremy with bad news.

The Amazing Officer B had our approval ready, but there was an issue with our home study.  She needed three words taken out.  Easy enough, right?  Except those three little words were on the notarized signature page.  She would need our social worker to make the changes, resign the page, and have it notarized again.

Thankfully, our social worker is also amazing.  She had a new page emailed to Officer B in no time flat.  There was just one little problem.  Now that we had a new home study, I needed a certified copy of that too.  Which meant I now needed to drive to our social worker's office (an hour away and not any closer to our state capital), pick up a new home study, print our Immigration approval, and still make it to the state capital by 5:00pm.  Yikes!

I decided to head to our social worker's office, hoping and praying that our approval would be done and could be printed when I got there.  Just as I was leaving town, I got an email from Officer B.  Our approval was done, but their entire computer system had crashed.  I'm not kidding.  I truly didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this point, so I tried really hard to laugh and set off for our social worker's office anyway.

Over an hour later, I had our new home study but still no Immigration approval.  I also had two little boys and a lot of Chicken McNuggets in my car and a R-E-A-L-L-Y long drive ahead of me.  I decided to email Officer B to see if she had an update on the computer system.  This is where her superhero alter-ego kicked in, and she completely saved the day.

She started emailing me regular updates (including smiley emoticons and bold lettering and a profuse apology).  Then, the system came back up and she emailed our approval right as I pulled into a friend's driveway.  A friend, a printer, an emailed approval...perfect.

Just after 2:00pm, I hit the road...again.  This time I had all the paperwork I needed in my trusty purple accordion folder.  (That thing has been with me on more trips to the Secretary of State than I can count.)  We made it to the state capital with time to spare, and enjoyed leftover Cheesecake Factory yumminess and some Incredibles on our drive home.

About eight hours after leaving our house, Li'l Man, Li'l Dude, and I made it back.  The day had started out disastrously; but, thanks to the Amazing Officer B, everything worked out in the end.  The rest of our paperwork was certified and on its way to the Ch*nese Consulate.  It should be picked up tomorrow and on its way to our agency before the closures for Ch*nese New Year.  Phew!

Once again, I'm left feeling incredibly thankful for people who have gone above and beyond to help us bring our sweet girl into our family.  All of my you're-so-amazing emails can't really express how grateful I am to people like our social worker and the Amazing Officer B.  The things they have done, even the things they might consider small or routine, put the wind back in my emotional sails and make this roller coaster of a journey just a bit easier.

Oh, and that's not all. Officer B has already offered to expedite the second part of our Immigration approval.  I told you, she's amazing.

Li'l Bean's Broken Heart

Some of you may have noticed that our adoption process has been moving along rather quickly.  (Or maybe you've just noticed that I've been making the 2-1/2 hour drive to our state capital about every other day lately.)  We officially started this adoption from scratch on December 30.  In spite of some paperwork drama, our entire dossier should arrive at our agency -- notarized, sealed, and ready to go to Ch*na -- on Tuesday!!!  

Part of our rush is because we absolutely cannot wait to hold this sweet girl in our arms.

(Can you blame us?  Look at the sweetness!)

But there's another reason, too.  As I mentioned before, our Li'l Bean has an unrepaired heart condition.  Most children born with her heart condition have surgery when they are between four and six months old.  Our girl will be two in May.  

Being as this is CHD (Congenital Heart Defect) Awareness Week, I thought it would be an appropriate time to share a little more about our Bean's broken heart.  Li'l Bean has a condition called Tetralogy of Fallot or TOF.  People with this condition usually have a combination of four heart abnormalities (although some have only three and some have even more).  Her medical records are a little vague, but it appears that Bean's heart has five defects.

Here's a quick summary of what's going on in Bean's heart.  (I'm a newbie heart mama, so this is a very basic description.)

1.) Pulmonary Infundibular Stenosis - The outflow tract of the right ventricle is narrowed.  This makes it difficult for blood to leave the right ventricle.

2.) Overriding Aorta - The aorta is the largest blood vessel in the body and usually connects to the left ventricle.  In Bean's heart, the aorta is connected to both the left and right ventricle.  Thus, it is said to "override" the right ventricle.

3.) Ventricular Septal Defect (VSD) - This defect means that there is a hole in the wall between the two ventricles in Bean's heart.  This hole allows oxygenated and unoxygenated blood to mix in her left ventricle.

4.) Right Ventricular Hypertrophy - The heart is a muscle.  Because of the narrowing of the tract leaving the right ventricle, the wall (muscle) of the right ventricle works overtime to pump blood through that opening.  The muscle is thicker than normal because it is working so hard.

5.) Left Pulmonary Artery Stenosis (This defect occurs in 40% of people who have TOF.) - I'm not 100% sure that Bean has this abnormality, but it appears that she might.  This means that her left pulmonary artery is narrower than it should be.

What does this all mean?  Basically, the combination of defects in Bean's heart are working together to hinder the flow of oxygen to her body.  TOF is a cyanotic heart defect, meaning that people with unrepaired TOF have low oxygen levels and often appear blue because their body is receiving a mix of oxygenated and unoxygenated blood.  This lack of oxygen is exacerbated when they are upset or exerting themselves.  Li'l Bean is cyanotic and has clubbing (abnormal curling) of her fingers due to a lack of oxygen to her extremities.  

After we requested to review Bean's file, we got this sad little video.  (Yes, we have a real live video of our daughter!) In the video, Bean is very upset.  You can see how blue she is (especially over her upper lip).  If you look closely, you can also see the clubbing of her fingers.

The Child Advocacy Specialist from our agency emailed the video to me the week after Christmas.  The first time I watched it, I just knew Bean was ours.  I remember I was walking into Target and clicked on the link right away.  It seems strange to see a little one screaming her head off and think, She's my baby; but that's exactly what I did.

So...what does the future look like for our Li'l Bean?  First, she needs to surgery to fix her little broken heart.  Hopefully her heart can be repaired in one surgery.  She might need a series of surgeries.  There's also a slight possibility that the doctors will be able to help her heart but not fully repair it.  And, while we certainly hope this isn't the case, she's ours no matter what.

And after surgery? Well, maybe she'll be an Olympic gold medalist like this guy.  (Betcha' didn't know Shaun White has repaired TOF.)

Photo Credit: www.shaunwhite.com

Photo Credit: www.theoldergamers.com

Or maybe she'll just be a little girl who loves to ride bikes and play princess and get into all kinds of mischief with her big sister and big brothers.  A little girl who is loved.  A little girl who knows what it means to be part of a family.

We can't wait to make her part of ours.

Slogging through the Paperwork Jungle

I've had a yucky week...and a half.  It's absolutely February's fault.  (Oh how I despise you, second month of the year.)  I admit, the snow-covered world outside my window is breathtakingly gorgeous.  And I love it...for the entire month of December.  And January.  By the time February gets here, my toes are itching for flip-flops, and I just want to go camping.  Whoever decided to make February the shortest month of the year is one of my heroes.  Seriously.

It hasn't helped that all the brilliant progress we were making on our paperwork has come to a complete standstill.  Instead of trekking through the paperwork jungle, I pretty sure I'm getting strangled by an anaconda.  Or drowning in quicksand.

When I last posted, our U.S. Immigration application had zipped across the country and been received at their lockbox.  The next step is for them to send us an appointment time to be fingerprinted.  (Because, you know, our fingerprints have gone all spy ninja since the 14 times we were fingerprinted for our last adoption.  Just sayin'.)  In spite of my dramatic daily sprint to the mailbox, the mailman hasn't come through for me yet.

So...that stinks.

While I wait ever-so impatiently for that appointment letter, I've been trying to finish up a few other loose ends with the rest of our dossier.  Last week I collected all of our out-of-state documents and prepped them to go to a courier in D.C.  Both our birth certificates and our marriage certificate are from out-of-state, so they can't be processed by the Chin*se Consulate that oversees our state.  Instead they have to go through the Chin*se Embassy in D.C., which requires that they first go through the U.S. Department of State in D.C.  (Complicated, I know.)  

So far, these documents had been ordered from our birth counties and then sent back (or carried in by my lovely mom) for authentication from the Secretary of State in our birth states.  I had then wrestled them into a package with two checks, a money order, a request form for the Consulate, copies of our passports, a cover letter for the courier, two sets of copies of each document, and a return F*dEx envelope.  (I managed all this in spite of having a total breakdown getting a little anxious when F*dEx.com would not open on either computer in the church office as 5:00pm rapidly approached.)

Our three little documents flew off to D.C. overnight.  The next day, someone posted in one of my adoption groups that birth certificates and a marriage certificate are no longer required for families who have previously adopted from Ch*na.  I frantically called my agency, and they confirmed this change.  Really?  I mean, I'm all for less paperwork; but I would have loved, loved, loved to get that tidbit of information 24 hours earlier.  Thankfully, I contacted the courier in time so our two checks, our money order, our birth certificates, our marriage certificate, and our return F*dEx label are now flying back from D.C. after their fun little field trip.

Not to be deterred, on Monday I collected all our other documents to go to the Consulate that oversees our state.  I printed/copied/dug up pretty much all the same things I had sent to D.C. and read over the courier's instructions 47 times.  One line said, "Please check your authentication pages from your Secretary of State, as they do make mistakes."  I chuckled at this one.  Surely that wouldn't be necessary.  I have total confidence in my Secretary of State to correctly print the notary's name and the date the paper was signed on the authentication sheet.

But, I'm a tad OCD.  So I checked.  And two of our nine documents were authenticated incorrectly.  The authentication sheets list the woman who signed the document instead of the notary.  Ugh.  I guess I'll be taking a little field trip to the Secretary of State's office.

So, tonight I need to remind myself that these are all all small things.  They're easily fixed.  When it comes to bringing home our girl, I can drive to the Secretary of State one. more. time.  Or fill out one more paper.  Or send one more F*dEx.  I need to ditch my stinky drowning-in-quicksand attitude.

In that light, seven of our ten documents are headed in the right direction. My mailman will show up with that fingerprint letter sometime soon.  And February?  Well, it's already 14% over.

A Little Christmas Surprise

We've been talking about starting the adoption process again for awhile.  Over the last 25 months we've added two adorable boys to our family, bought a house that had been empty and unloved for a very long time, owned two houses at once for a very long time, listed and then tried to sell a house for a very long time (showing a house with three preschoolers is pretty much at the top of my list of 10 Least Favorite Things Ever), and fixed the garage door/carpet/drywall/toilets/cabinets/appliances/lighting/doors and more in our new house.  So, even though some of us have been sick with baby fever for quite a while,  those of us who tend to be a little more rational stinkin' slow to get on board suggested that maybe waiting to bring another child into our family would be a good idea.

For the last few months of 2014, Jeremy and I talked and prayed about the right time to begin the adoption process.  We included our kids in this discussion, and they were not slow to get on board.  (Li'l Miss has been asking for a sister pretty much since we got off the plane in 2012.  Li'l Man keeps announcing that he wants five boys and five girls, while proudly holding up both hands full of fingers. Li'l Dude...well...we're counting on him getting used to the idea.)  As a family, we decided to move forward at the beginning of 2015.  

Then we got a little Christmas surprise.

On Christmas Eve, our agency posted the files of several newly assigned waiting children.  When we woke up on Christmas morning, even more little ones had been listed.  One of those sweeties seemed like a good fit for our family.  (Actually, most of them did, but someone is cutting me off at one this time.)  We asked to see this little one's file and received it right away; because the awesome ladies on our adoption team work to find kids families even on Christmas.

On December 30, we officially told our agency we were ready to begin the adoption process, and that we would like to ask Ch*na's permission to make that little Christmas baby part of our family.  We've been quiet about this news because we've been waiting for Pre-Approval (PA) from Ch*na.  This is the first step in the process of adopting a specific child (basically the "matching" step).

This afternoon we got a call from our adoption agency.  They said that we have officially received PA for...

...OUR DAUGHTER!

I am beyond thrilled to introduce you to our Li'l Bean (who, in our unique family tradition, will probably not have an actual English name until the day we meet her).

Li'l Bean is 19 months old and has an unrepaired heart defect (which I will share more about in another post).  She has stolen our hearts, and we can't wait to meet her.  We are working hard to keep our process moving along.

In the meantime...girl names, anyone?

Baby Steps

Our happy little F*dEx envelope was sent on its way Wednesday evening and arrived at the U.S. Immigration lockbox yesterday morning!  (An ice storm that canceled school did its nasty best to keep me from picking up our finalized home study on Wednesday, but this mama wasn't going to be stopped by some slippery roads...Mom, just pretend you didn't read that part.)

Next step, Immigration approval!  This part of the process is super unpredictable and can take anywhere from just over two weeks (very optimistically) to 2-1/2 months (please, no!).  Thanks for your prayers and support as we take the next step on this adventure.

Of Stitches and Nights Spent in The ER

Adoptive parents say that when you decide to adopt, your life suddenly falls to pieces.  They claim that the month you send in your application, you're very likely to discover that your car is dead, your dryer isn't working, or you're being audited on your taxes.  

They might be onto something.

Last night I was in the kitchen making this super delish Chicken Tortilla Soup.  The kids were bouncing around wildly, because that's what you do during the Just-Before-Dinner Witching Hour.  (That is totally a real thing.  I swear.)  Suddenly I hear, "Please keep your arms and legs inside the ride."  Hhhhhhmmmmm...my kids may or may not have spent too much time at Disneyl*nd, and this sounds dangerous.

I step into the living room to find Li'l Miss giving the boys rides down the stairs in a plastic tote.  Honestly, it only looked semi-life threatening and I have some pretty good memories of sliding down the stairs as a kid, so I let them keep playing.  Daddy came home, and I kept working on our yummy dinner.

A little while later, the happy sliding/giggling started to sound a bit more like a frat party.  Daddy decided the stair rides needed to end before someone ended up crying, so he sent the kids into the play room...you know, so they'd be safer and all.

Unbeknownst to the grown-ups in the kitchen, our ever-so-creative kids don't need stairs for sliding.  As I was stirring the soup, they were building this...

...the perfect run for this nifty little toboggan. 

(As a side note, be proud of me.  I was sssssoooooo tempted to straighten up just a little before taking these pictures.  Now the whole world knows that every. single. room. in my house is covered in N*rf bullets.)

The one thing my little engineers failed to notice, was that their toboggan run ended here.

Ouch.  Apparently Li'l Miss and Li'l Dude were slightly nervous about hopping in the plastic toboggan.  Li'l Man, on the other hand, thought it was fantastic plan...until his forehead hit the bricks.  

Then, this happened.

So...I spent the evening at the ER with my Li'l Man, instead of enjoying a giant pot of Pioneer Woman's deliciousness.  It was sad.  The hardest part was helping the nurses hold him down while the doctor did the stitches.  They wrapped him in a big sheet so that he wouldn't grab at the needle.  He was not. a. fan.

He screamed and screamed like he could feel every stitch, while I laid on his legs and tried to calm him down.  I was pretty sure he was going to want nothing to do with me when the doctor was done, but I was wrong.  As soon as he got himself untangled from that sheet, he lunged his sweaty little self right into my arms.  Which was pretty awesome.

Two years ago, Li'l Man would have seen every adult in that room as someone to meet his needs.  He would have asked any of them to feed him or hold him or lift him up to the drinking fountain.  Last night he just wanted his mommy.  Such a happy feeling.

Li'l Man is going to be fine.  He pretty much forgot all about the stitch-induced torture as soon as the nurse told him he could take the empty syringes home to squirt in the bathtub.  And he had definitely forgotten the horrific screaming by the time he was back home eating two big bowls of the soup he'd missed for dinner.  Today he's banged up but much, much better.

(I think Daddy might have gone a little overboard on the re-bandaging.)

Last night I couldn't help thinking about how scared Li'l Man was in the hospital.  I couldn't help feeling his little arms wrapped oh-so tightly around me.  I couldn't imagine what it would have been like for him to get 87 numbing shots, or a CT scan, or stitches without his Mommy or Daddy right beside him. 

And then it hit me.  There's a little guy in Ch*na who has been on my mind for the past month.  He's precious and adorable and way too tiny.  This is Aaronz.

Aaronz has a broken heart.  His heart is too broken to get his body the oxygen it needs.  The doctors who examined him in Ch*na felt there was nothing they could do for him.

On Christmas Eve, our adoption agency received his medical file.  They immediately fell in love with this sick little guy who weighed in at 12 pounds just before his first birthday.

Thankfully, the amazing ladies at our adoption agency are fighters.  This little guy will never know how blessed to have them in his corner.  They very quickly worked out a way for him to travel to a major city for further testing on his heart.

He he is, shortly after arriving for testing.  (Can you handle the cuteness?)

This little guy took what was probably the longest trip he'd taken in his life.  He arrived, extremely sick and weak, at an unfamiliar hospital.  He had a heart cath and then possibly open heart surgery facing him in the next days and weeks.

And his caretakers declined to stay with him.  

Everyone he knew left him.

I don't know the circumstances surrounding this decision.  Maybe it was truly impossible for one of his nannies to stay.  But regardless, this tiny boy was left in the hospital all by himself.

Thinking about this makes me want to puke.  I was horrified by the thought of my four-year-old having to get a few stitches without me right beside him.  Yet here is a very, very sick baby facing heart surgery all alone.

Our broken world is full of injustice.  No child should ever celebrate a birthday or go off to kindergarten or have heart surgery alone.

Little Aaronz struggled after arriving in the hospital.  His O2 stats got very scary.  He was gray and on oxygen 24/7.

Amazingly, he stabilized and was able to have his heart cath.  Even better than that, the doctors decided that his heart is operable!  This sweet little guy is scheduled for major heart surgery this Friday.  (For all you heart mamas and daddies, he's having the Glenn Procedure.)

The organization helping to sponsor Aaronz's care hired a nanny for him.  He adores her.  In fact, she reported that all he wants to do is eat while he's with her.  That is awesome news.  Grow, little guy, grow!

As happy as I am that Aaronz is not alone, he will be again soon.  The woman holding him is a hired caretaker, not a forever mommy.  Aaronz is still an orphan.  He has no one who is truly there for him.  No who is willing to stay for all the pain, all the surgeries, and all the stitches.  He has no mama.

I hate that.

You and I, we can change this.  We can pray for Aaronz, we can share his story, and - just maybe - one of us can be his mommy.

Adoption is not an easy road.  It's unpredictable, heartbreakingly difficult, and full of the unexpected.  (And it might cost you your 'fridge.)  None of our adoptions have been easy.  But they have all been worth it.  100% worth it.  Because, at the end of this crazy journey, there is a child who will never again be alone.

(If you'd like more information about Aaronz, please comment here with your contact information.  Don't worry, I won't publish any comments with personal information.)

Braving the Paperwork Jungle

Be warned, if you're not at least a teeny bit interested in the adoption process, this post is probably going to be adoption vocabulary overkill.  Check out the italicized paragraph...errr...paragraphS for a mini-update written especially for you! :)

Our super awesome social worker, Jan, has been working very diligently on our home study. <3 her!  The home study is basically a mini-novel about our family.  It includes information about our background, education, marriage, children, number of fire extinguishers in our house, etc.  While we work on collecting other paperwork required by Ch*na, the home study is the main document that we need to move on from this phase in our process. 

Once our home study is approved, we can apply for approval to adopt from U.S. Immigration.  So...BUM-BUM-BUM...we had our final visit with Jan today, and she was able to complete our home study this afternoon!  Once it is approved by our placement agency (the agency that works directly with us and Ch*na), we can get in a F*dEx envelope and off to U.S. Immigration.  We're hoping that will happen tomorrow or Wednesday.  Woohoo!  We are one step closer to getting through the paperwork jungle phase of our adoption process.

Okay, for those of you who are sticking around for a more detailed explanation, I thought I'd take a few minutes to explain where we are in the process of adopting from Ch*na and what is coming next.  I know the idea of adopting internationally can seem intimidating and scary -- believe me, I've had my moments of paralyzing anxiety over misplaced notary stamps and re-stapled documents -- so I'm hoping that sharing the completely OCD details of our journey will paint a clearer and much simpler picture of the international adoption process.  If you're starting the process of adopting internationally, considering adoption from Ch*na, or just trying to keep up with your crazy friend's adoption adventures, this part of the post is for you.

I need to start with a little bit of adoption vocabulary.

Placement Agency - The adoption agency that works directly with families and the country from which they will be adopting.  Families in the United States can work with placement agencies anywhere in the U.S.  Ours is actually in Washington State.

Home Study Agency - As I mentioned above, the home study is a thick document required for all international adoptions.  It requires at least one visit to your home by a licensed social worker and then additional visits in your social worker's office.  Because of this, families who do not live in close proximity to their placement agency will use a separate agency (usually located within a couple hours of their home) to complete their home study.  We are in this situation.

Dossier - A gigantic stack of paperwork that goes to the country from which you hope to adopt.  This mound of documents includes things like the adoptive parents' birth certificates, the home study, elementary school report cards, and criminal background checks.

Alright, vocab done.

Adoption, international or domestic, is a bit of a roller coaster.  Every family's process looks different, and every country/agency/adoption is pretty much one-of-a-kind.  That being said, I'm going to attempt to outline the first few steps most families take when adopting internationally.

Step One: Choose A Country
This was an easy one for us this time around.  We had a very positive experience with Ch*na's process when we brought our boys home in 2012, and we are excited to be headed back for Baby #4.  (Just FYI...there are quite a few other countries that currently allow U.S. citizens to adopt; Taiwan, Ukraine, Bulgaria, Ethiopia, Uganda, Haiti, India, and Columbia are a few of them.)

Step Two: Choose A Placement Agency
Once a family has chosen a country, they need to decide on a reputable and ethical agency that works in their country of choice.  Each agency that does international adoptions works with specific countries.  Because we had already decided to return to Ch*na and we have a placement agency that we absolutely love, this was another easy step for us.

Step Three: Placement Agency Paperwork/Application Fee
Each placement agency requires specific paperwork from a family desiring to begin the adoption process.  This usually includes an application (with a fee) and several other documents indicating that the applying family understands the process, the agency's services and fees, etc.  This part of the paperwork is usually pretty quick and simple.  We were able to print these papers off of our agency's website and then just scan and email them back.

Step Four: Choose A Home Study Agency
As I've already mentioned, if a family does not live near their placement agency, they will need to choose another agency to complete their home study.  Their placement agency will usually help them do this.  For our last adoption from Ch*na we had to drive about two-and-a-half hours to meet with our social worker.  Thankfully, this time around, we are able to use a much closer agency that we've worked with several times in the past.  We love this agency and our social worker.

Step Five: Assemble A Dossier
Each country requires specific documents that make up a potential adoptive family's dossier.  One of these is always a completed home study.  When it comes to a Ch*na dossier, the home study takes much longer to complete than any of the other required paperwork.  While we've been meeting with Jan for our home study, we've also been collecting birth certificates, background checks, medical forms, and several other things.  This is our fourth dossier, and I'm feeling like an expert this time around.  (Adoptive mom friends, read: Collecting paperwork is a cinch once you've done it a time or four.  You should totally just start working on a dossier and come to Ch*na with me.)

Most or all of the documents in a dossier need to be notarized and authenticated.  Notarization is easy; most banks have a notary who will notarize documents for a small fee (or for free).  Authentication involves driving or sending documents to the capital of the state in which they originated where they get a special stamp and certificate.  (For example, I was born in California, so my birth certificate must be notarized in Sacramento or LA.  I know that LA is not the capital of California, but those West Coast people are weird like that.)  This process usually involves a fee for each document.

The final piece of paper needed for our dossier is U.S. Immigration approval.  This can take anywhere from two weeks to two months.  Once our home study is finalized, we'll be done with everything for our dossier except this approval.

Step Six: Dossier to Ch*na (DTC)
Once we get our U.S. Immigration approval (a simple little form called an I-171h), we'll take our gigantic stack of paperwork to our state capital for authentication.  (We had three documents from out of state, and we've already sent those to be authenticated.)  From there, our dossier will go to Washington, D.C. for more fancy stamps.  Then, it's off to our placement agency and on to Ch*na.  At this point in the process, we'll officially be "DTC".

There you go.  Everything you ever wanted to know about our adoption process.  (Although if you have questions or want the really extra boring details, I'm happy to chat.)  The most exciting part of this post is that we're getting closer to being done with paperwork, and finishing our paperwork gets us one step closer to meeting Baby #4.  And that is 100% worth all the notarizing, background checking, blood testing, paperwork signing, and home inspecting that has filled our life lately.