Things have been moving full-speed ahead with our adoption. First, our CARA (Central Adoption Resource Authority) application was APPROVED. CARA had the final say in whether or not we were approved to adopt from India. I was just a tiny bit apprehensive about it, because we didn't meet exactly, to-the-letter a couple of their requirements, but we were approved. So now all of our application/paperwork/home study/dossier/piles of forms is officially DONE. I'm pretty sure the 'Hallelujah chorus' is playing in the background.
We finally sent off our check for $8970, to our adoption agency. I had a hard time writing out those numbers, even though I whole-heartedly believe we are doing the right thing. Soon, we will mail off another check for $7500 -- and then there will be a few more after that.
It's a LOT of money. I'm not going to lie. It is a huge chunk out of our savings account. But, I want to be very clear .... we are not sacrificing anything to adopt our little girl.
Let me say that again.
We are not sacrificing anything for our adoption.
Nothing.
To me, sacrifice implies laboriously giving something up.
Dictionary.com says: The surrender or destruction of something prized or desirable for the sake of something considered as having a higher or more pressing claim.
We aren't going to surrender something prized or desirable just to bring our daughter home.
That would be ridiculous.
What we are
going to do is make some adjustments in our life to bring her home.
We're going to eat out very, very, very infrequently. We're going to cut
back on our grocery bill even more. We're going to do fun trips around
town that are free, or very, very, very cheap.
But that's not really a sacrifice.
Giving
up an over-priced chicken dinner so a little girl who is spending her
days in an orphanage, without someone to tuck her in or read her a story
every night can have a family, isn't a sacrifice.
We are making adjustments in our lives to bring her home. But it isn't a sacrifice.
And, let me add this is not some saintly thing we're doing. Far from it. I've panicked over it, a lot. More than once, it's caused tension in our marriage. I've sometimes thought that it was asking too much of Reagan, of us. I've laid awake at night, crunching and recrunching numbers, trying to figure out how in the world we are going to pay for this.
I'm certainly not skipping around humming an annoyingly happy tune about this. It is HARD. It is so hard, and we haven't even brought her home yet. I weigh it all out in my head and my heart, and I sometimes want to forget it all and go to the Caribbean instead.
But.
There is a little girl somewhere in India, with a disease that doctors haven't cured. Or a disability that has labeled her, in their Hindu culture, untouchable. Worthless. Without value. Nothing.
According to the Hindu religion, which makes up most of India, suffering and disabilities are "thought to be
part of the unfolding of karma and is the consequence of past
inappropriate action ... that occurred in either one's current life
or in a past life."
Orphans are considered 'Dalits,' which in the caste system is the lowest of the low. They are not entitled to ... well, anything. They are given menial jobs, if given a job. They are not allowed to advance in society. They are not given access to clean water, medical care, education, or anything else that is commonplace in our society. They barely exist.
According to Families for Orphans, "India is home to more orphans than anywhere else in the world, thousands and thousands of Dalits that are forever deemed untouchable by humanity."
This. This is not ok.
Giving up a $20 steak and ambience, that's ok. Not staying in a four-star hotel for a week, that's ok. Missing the latest, greatest movie in the theater, starring some lead actor who makes more in a day than I will make in a year, that's ok.
But knowing that I could make a difference in a child's life, that I could give a child love and acceptance and attention and physical affection and healthy food and medical care and a thousand other things that are normal in our society -- if I don't do it, then that's not ok.
I feel like I always need to make a disclaimer when I write these adoption blogs. Because it's something I'm so passionate about, I feel like I walk a fine line between passion and coming off as persuasive, and maybe even a touch pushy.
Not everyone can or should adopt. Every family and every choice and every situation is unique, and I certainly don't look at people who go on expensive vacations and live lavish lifestyles with disdain, silently judging their choices.
Far from it. This is our life and our choice ... and I sincerely hope that somewhere in my future is an all-inclusive vacation where my biggest decision is if I want to read a book or take a nap.
But, my point in these occasional adoption ramblings is two-fold. One, to give our friends and family who have walked this journey with us since the beginning, an update. And two, to follow through on what my husband has said all along -- that he hopes that if nothing else, we show people who want to adopt, who feel that tug on their heart, that normal people (us) with normal jobs (us) and normal paychecks (us) can give an orphan a forever home.
We have a big fund-raiser on May 14 at the Listening Room, with some of my dearest friends donating their time and talent to help us raise money. Some of our friends are hosting dinner parties on our behalf. We've been blessed and humbled with people's generosity so far. We are not alone in our pursuit of getting our daughter.
This little girl will come home to a lot of love from a lot of people.
Stay tuned.
"I don't want a flame, I want a fire. I wanna be the one who stands up and says, 'I'm gonna do something.'" ~Matthew West, 'Do Something'
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