Adoption Update -- Getting Closer!

It's been a while since I've posted an update on our adoption, but man -- it's been quite the roller coaster over the past few months. But finally -- FINALLY -- we are getting ready to book our travel to go get our girl!

It's been a season of change for us, in many ways. My husband switched jobs (he is currently driving for Uber while getting ready to take his real estate exam), which was actually a great financial decision for us, plus it gives him more flexibility to be home with Reagan so I can work more.

We thought we were close -- very close -- a few months ago. We hit an unexpected roadblock, the details of which I can't share here, at least not yet (but it will make a really good blog, someday). Suffice it to say we learned how to fight harder than ever for our little girl, and it brought us all closer in the process.

 Gen. 50:20, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."

With all of that firmly behind us now, we are moving full-speed ahead in getting our girl as quickly as possible. We are getting ready to pay the court fee of $1200, which will allow the court in India to release the documents allowing her to officially become ours (as I understand it). That same day we received that bill, we also got an estimated cost for our travel, which is $10,100. We also got another bill for just over $1000, to update our home study.

It seems like a lot. It is a lot. It's a lot when our second car, our back-up car, needs a part replaced, and our good car, the car my husband uses to Uber, also needs work. Our dryer died this weekend. And on and on and on.

But.

When we started this journey, we were completely baffled how we were going to pay $40,000. It might as well have been $4 million at the time. But we've nickel and dimed our way through the first $30,000 -- without going into debt -- and I have no doubt we'll figure the rest of it out. No doubt.

The average monthly wage in India is the equivalent of $295 in American dollars. We have nothing to complain about. 

Here's a funny thing about the way we all live: We invest our money in temporary things, in a temporary world, and then complain we don't have enough money to to the important work. We make payments on a $30,000 car that depreciates every day, we think nothing of throwing down $100 or more for a dinner in a restaurant, which will be finished in 15 minutes, and we spend a few thousand dollars on a fancy vacation, which lasts a few days, maybe a week, and then it's back to life in the real world, anyway.

We spend all our money on the temporary, completely ignoring the eternal. We put our money into things that have no lasting value, turning our eyes away from the things with eternal significance.

Meanwhile, there are more than 153 million children without a home, while we say we wish we could do something, but we just can't afford it.

 I'm including myself in the 'we,' lest anyone think I'm just pointing fingers at others. Our family gives 10% to our church, which I'm happy to do, but ask me to do more than that, and my fingers figuratively curl around my money like it will vanish if I don't hold on tight enough. I'm by nature a saver, and very, very frugal (yes, actually, I do have a three-ring coupon binder). So if I sound like I'm being accusatory, it's mostly to myself.

Also, not everyone can adopt. Not everyone should adopt. But, as I've said so many times, everyone can do something. We can all take a stand for the 153 million children who have no one to take a stand for them.

I wrote a blog on adoption for my friend, Wendy, for her business, Be the Good. You can read the entire blog here, but in it, I recounted a recent encounter I had:

"She sat across from me, with tears filling her eyes. Dressed immaculately in designer clothing, she was a very casual acquaintance I knew through a colleague, who I ran into at a work event. She overheard a conversation I had with someone about my husband and I adopting a little girl from India, and wanted to ask me a few questions.

20 minutes later, we were still talking, tears now ruining her once perfectly-applied make-up. "I want to adopt a child,” she sniffled. "I really do. But we already have three, and I can’t imagine spending the money at this stage in our lives. It’s just so expensive, isn’t it?”

I told her how we raised more than $30,000 of the approximately $40,000 we ultimately need to bring her home – by giving up eating out, focusing on saving, hosting fund-raisers, applying for grants and being mindful of every penny. I gave her my contact information, and told her to reach out to me if she had any more questions.

A little while later, I happened to get into my car – a used 2005 sedan with low miles that we got a great deal on, at the same time that she got into her luxury SUV, with a sticker price that cost way more than our entire adoption, and we waved goodbye and parted ways."

I'm not trying to lay on the guilt. I'm trying to change our focus. I'm trying to make adoption seem doable, so that more children can learn what it's like to not worry about their food, their clothes, their future.

The final bill of more than $12,000 is going to get paid. I know it is. Of all the things we have worried about over this three-and-a-half year ordeal, money was never one of them.

I love this video that has been floating around on Facebook, of parents receiving their two sons from the Democratic Republic of Congo, after a three-year wait. (You can watch it here). I sent it to a few people and told them to watch it only when they could 'ugly cry,' because it captures so many emotions in only a few seconds.

That video completely sums up why we choose to adopt.

I'm not in this life to gather material possessions. We can't take any of it with us anyway. But what we can do is impact future generations, and save children -- like our daughter -- from a world of poverty and neglect. We can't save all of them. But we can save one.

The wait has been long. So long. But we are almost done. Soon, we will be a family of four.

"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'

To help us bring Marella Hope Grace Thompson home, visit our GoFundMe page.

 

We Accepted a Referral!!

Big, big, BIG news on our adoption -- we have accepted a referral!!!!

Yes, we are very excited. Yes, we think she is beautiful. Yes, we are moving forward as quickly as possible.

That's pretty much all we can say at this point.

We have a picture, which I will be very happy to show you in person (but cannot post here). As I've shared previously, we knew we would be adopting a child with disabilities, and were totally prepared for that. Her disabilities are rather minor, and will not affect her long-term.

She falls in the age range of 0 to 3. It will most likely be a year until we get to bring her home, but of course we are praying to expedite the process.

Her name will be Marella Hope Grace Thompson. Marella in memory of my mother, Mary Ellen. Hope because when we first announced our adoption intentions to our choir family, our friend Jenn prayed that God would fill her room with hope, and that word resonated in our hearts. Grace because I love everything that word represents.

So now we have lots more paperwork to fill out, and a lot more steps to walk and hoops to jump through as we work in tandem with India to make her officially a part of our family.

Meanwhile, we look at her picture all the time. Reagan points to her and proudly says, "That's my sister," and promises to teach her to walk and to share his chocolate with her if she's sad. Meanwhile, I cry a lot. I look at her picture and cry. I talk about her and cry. Someone asks how things are going and my eyes fill with tears.

It's part overwhelming, unrestrained love for a daughter I have never met, part wanting desperately to be the one holding her, caring for her and comforting her, and part just a deep, deep ache for our family to be complete.

We can share more once we get final approval from India. Meanwhile, things could still go wrong. There is a lot hanging in a balance that is out of our hands. I debated sharing this with anyone until we got one more official word. But I firmly believe she is our daughter. From the moment I laid eyes on her I felt like she was mine.

Asia has the largest amount of orphans in the world, with an estimated 60 million orphans. 60 million children without a home. 60 million boys and girls without anyone to call Mom and Dad. Soon, God willing, there will be one less.

Stay tuned.

To help us bring her home, click here, and in the bottom right-hand corner, put 'Johnny and Gayle Thompson' in the space for Designated Family. Checks can be made payable to AWAA, and sent to America World Adoption Association, Attn: Accounting Dept., 6723 Whittier Ave., Suite 202, McLean, VA 22101, along with a form that can be found here. Checks must be designated for the Eternal Family Fund. Or, you can donate to our GoFundMe page.

What I Won't Sacrifice to Adopt

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'

To help us bring her home, click here, and in the bottom right-hand corner, put 'Johnny and Gayle Thompson' in the space for Designated Family. Checks can be made payable to AWAA, and sent to America World Adoption Association, Attn: Accounting Dept., 6723 Whittier Ave., Suite 202, McLean, VA 22101, along with a form that can be found here. Checks must be designated for the Eternal Family Fund. Or, you can donate to our GoFundMe page.

Adoption Update ... Getting Closer

Much has happened since our last adoption update, so I wanted to fill everyone in on the latest. First of all, our DOSSIER IS DONE!!! That feels like a huge load off of my shoulders. The dossier requires dozens of documents, some (but not all) of which were used for our home study, which had to be notarized. Then, each piece of paper that was notarized had to receive a county seal, from whichever county it was notarized in. THEN, each of those documents had to be apostilled, which is a certification from the state, and required multiple trips downtown.

After all of that was done, we made five copies, sent several to Washington, D.C., one to Oregon, and kept one copy for ourselves. So, the fact that all of that is behind us is a big, big relief.

So now we are waiting to be approved by CARA (Central Adoption Resource Authority), and then after that, we wait for a referral, and after that, we wait while all the paperwork goes through the appropriate channels, and after THAT, we bring our little girl home.

Adoption is definitely not for the faint of heart. It feels overwhelming a lot of times.

I had a minor heart attack a few days ago, when we received our latest bill. We paid $1800 in the beginning, followed by $2400. After that, it's been a few hundred here, a few hundred there, but nothing too outrageous.

Until we got our bill for almost $9000 the other day. $8970, to be exact. Followed by $7950, when we get our referral.

That's a lot of numbers on a check.

But, after I got that invoice in my e-mail, while I was trying to catch my breath, I sent a text to my friend Beth, who said, "It will be hard to write [the check]. until you close your eyes and see your daughter playing on the rooftop in India."

My little girl playing on the rooftop in India.

Five years ago, when I was in India, the people I stayed with, Amos and Rowena Stoltzfus, took me to the slums of India. I was told that there is poverty, and then there is India poverty, but until you see it for yourself, it's really, really hard to imagine.

But we drove through a section where the poorest of the poor live, residing in these ramshackle ....buildings, if that's what you call them. Really just some pieces of wood stuck together, most of them with the fronts wide open, and people selling and begging out front.

In front of one of the buildings, was a man, selling cookies from a wheelbarrow. Not nicely wrapped cookies. Cookies that had been removed from their package and dumped out, where the flies and mosquitoes and dirt from the street were landing on them. But there he was, looking skinny and dirty and desperate, trying to make enough money to survive another day.

I glanced above where he was selling his meager offerings, and on top of the building were several people that I assume were his family. There was a blue tarp on top, being held up by a few wooden sticks. From my view in the car, looking at them maybe 10 feet higher than I was, I could see that they were all very, very, very dirty. But in front, standing too close to the edge of the building, there was a little girl, maybe three or four, in a filthy blue dress. And, she was dancing.

It was five years ago, but I can see her in my mind as clearly as if I saw her a minute ago. Here was this little girl, who may have never had a full meal, and who most likely didn't know what it was like to live without hunger, dancing and laughing and playing and giggling like any other toddler. Standing too close to the edge of a building, without anyone looking out for her, telling her to step away, reminding her not to fall.  And she was dancing, like she was the happiest child in the world.

That image of her has never left my mind. I believe the idea to adopt from India was birthed in that moment. I can barely talk about it, five years later, without my eyes filling with tears.

How can I say $8970 or $7950 or $10 million is too much? I have more in any room in my house than she, and so many others, will ever see in a lifetime.

We had a fund-raiser planned earlier this month, which was postponed due to the crazy, crazy snow that hit Nashville yet again. Our new date is May 14 at the Listening Room in Nashville, at 8:30. We will have live music, and lots of items for a silent auction, including signed lyrics from Vince Gill and Amy Grant, signed CDs and posters, gift cards, art work and various other items.

And if anyone else has any other fund-raising ideas, we are very, very open.

I keep waiting for the true panic to set in. But it hasn't, at least not yet. Because if we don't do this, who will? We're about to cut some SERIOUS corners in our finances until we get everything paid and caught up again. But I have no doubt that we can do it. Like I've said all along, do we really need another nice meal out at a restaurant, or the new floors in our living room, or another thing to add to our house, when it would come at the expense of her life?

"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'

To help us bring her home, click here, and in the bottom right-hand corner, put 'Johnny and Gayle Thompson' in the space for Designated Family. Checks can be made payable to AWAA, and sent to America World Adoption Association, Attn: Accounting Dept., 6723 Whittier Ave., Suite 202, McLean, VA 22101, along with a form that can be found here. Checks must be designated for the Eternal Family Fund. Or, you can donate to our GoFundMe page.

A Letter to My Daughter

Dear Daughter,

I don't know your name. I don't know what you look like. I don't know much about you, but I know this: I love you fiercely. Deeply. Madly. Passionately.

It's been two years since your father and I decided to expand our family through adoption. In that time, we have prayed for you, every single day. In the morning, when I get your brother, Reagan, up, I whisper a prayer that God will give you restful sleep with sweet dreams. And at night, when I tuck your brother in, I pray that you will have a good day, with a full tummy and hugs and things to make you smile.

I don't know what you have experienced in your life, but I know that you already have had much pain, much sorrow. It pains me, more than you will ever possibly comprehend, to know that right now you have tears that I can't wipe away, boo-boos that I can't kiss, and fears that I can't soothe.

It might feel that you are in an orphanage because you were unwanted, and unloved, but let me assure you that NOTHING could be further from the truth. NOTHING. You are so loved, and desperately, desperately wanted into this family.

We talk about you all the time, with Reagan and whoever else will listen. Reagan proudly shows people your room. Your Daddy got me a charm of a girl, to represent your place in our family, and Reagan often asks to look at the 'one of his sister.'

I know you most likely have some physical challenges. I won't pretend to know what it's like to be so young and face the things you have had to face in your short life, but I assure you that we will do everything in our power -- everything -- to make sure you receive the best care when you come home with us. We have a fantastic pediatrician who we have already been talking to about you, and we will move heaven and earth to get you the best possible treatment.

I miss you. Isn't that odd that I miss you but I don't know who you are yet? But it's true. I get teary a lot. Part of my heart is with you, and until you are in my arms, that void is always going to be there.

So, a little bit about our family ... your Daddy is a GOOD father. I mean, the kind who will read you books past your bedtime, get on the floor and play with you, carry you around on his shoulders, and take you out and buy you treats just because. He loves you. He will protect you at all costs. He is patient (way more patient than Mommy), and always sees the bright side.

Reagan is two years old. He'll probably be three by the time we meet you. He is VERY active, and loves playing with cars, his new kitchen, his farm animals, his race track, and pretty much anything else he can get his hands on. He loves to play outside on his swing set, and he often helps Mommy bake. He is a true nurturer. Even at his young age, he always makes sure other people around him are ok, so I'm sure he'll take good care of you.

I'm home most of the time, so you'll see a lot of me. I am imperfect on a good day, impatient when I'm tired and more of a realist than I'd like to admit. But, I will always, always, always, always, always love you. As your parents, we'll make a lot of mistakes, but we'll learn from them, grow from them, and hopefully figure out the best way to love you and take care of you in the process.

You'll also see a lot of your grandparents, Poppy, Gran Jan and Oma, and your Aunt Tracy and nephew Daniel (or 'Doolule' as Reagan calls him). Poppy and Oma come over often to play, so I'm sure you'll love them. They already love you. And Aunt Tracy is already excited to buy you presents.

Twice a year we travel to PA to see my family, your Pop-Pop, Nana, Uncle Mike, Aunt Dawn and cousin Hunter. They can't wait to meet you. You'll love staying with Uncle Mike and Aunt Dawn. And Aunt Dawn has been known to buy a few special treats and surprises when we visit. She will spoil you in the best way possible.

So many other people love you, and pray for you. People from our church and our friends often ask about you, and if we're close to bringing you home. You are an extremely loved little girl.

When we first told our choir at church that we were adopting you, our friend Jenn prayed that God would 'fill your room with Hope.' The word 'hope' stuck. Our friend Alicia gave us a cross that says 'Hope' on it, and I look at it every day and smile, because it represents YOU. And you make me smile.

I love you, sweet girl. Our family is incomplete until you come home with us. I miss you.  I can't wait to meet you.

See you soon.

Love,

Mommy

The Thompson's Big News

 We have big, big, big news.

After spending the past 16 months, talking, praying, and signing our name over and over and over again, we can finally announce that WE ARE ADOPTING A GIRL FROM INDIA!!!!

I know.

That's pretty big news.

First, the back story: In 2010, I spent a life-changing 11 days in India. I left there wanting to return to the States, sell all of my things, and spend my life with the beautiful people who captured my heart. Life happened instead, including falling in love with my sweet husband, getting married, buying a house and having a child. But India stayed on my mind and in my heart. Before my husband and I really started even talking about forever, I told him marrying me meant agreeing to live in India for at least a season of our life. (He, surprisingly or not, agreed).

In October of 2012, while sitting in church, I felt this overwhelming, undeniable, irrepressible urge to adopt a girl from India. Just like that. I went to my husband after the service, and said, "I think we have a little girl waiting for us in India."

Let me assure you, if he had said those words to me, I would have said something along the lines of, "Are you crazy?" or "Do you know how much international adoption costs?" But anyone who knows my husband will not be shocked by his response.

"Well then, we need to go get her," he said.

That's it.

"We need to go get her."

I married well.

Recounting those words brings tears to my eyes every time.

I remember driving home from church that Sunday, thinking that our lives were just completely turned upside down in the best way possible.

We began researching agencies that did adoption to India, found American World, and started the process. Unfortunately, 2013 didn't go at all as we had planned. Job loss and unexpected hefty bills made up most of the year. Instead of watching our savings account increase, we watched it decrease every single month -- sometimes by a little, and sometimes by a lot. So, we waited. Every night before dinner, when we said our prayers with Reagan, we prayed for our little girl in India, but we waited.

Until we felt like we just couldn't wait any more.

So at the very beginning of the year, we began the application process, paid our deposit, and waited again. Surprisingly, in only a short amount of time, we got the word that we were accepted into the program.

Wow.

While there are many, many, many hurdles to jump through, getting that phone call felt almost exactly how I felt when my pregnancy test with Reagan came back positive -- minus the weird queasy feeling I had been having for a few days. It was that instant rush of excitement, fear and elation all mixed up in one sudden emotion.

I'll admit - when I look at the lovely fee schedule they sent us, I have to take a few deep breaths. When we wrote our first really big check a couple weeks ago, I thought I might hyperventilate just a bit. I hadn't written a check that big in a long, long time. I even thought about maybe waiting just a few more months. Part of me said we needed to build up our savings account again, before we pursued this any further.

Sometimes I can be so First World.

I was debating whether or not we should take money out of our savings account to bring home a child from India who is living in an orphanage.

There are an estimated 31 million orphans living in India. 31 million. That's 1/10 of the population of the entire United States. That's roughly the number of people living Florida and Pennsylvania combined.

It's a lot of children to live alone.

These are children whose parents can no longer afford to take care of them. Children whose parents died from HIV. Children whose parents died for a thousand other reasons. Children who have been abandoned on the street because they are the wrong gender, or have a disability or are too expensive or are just unwanted.

While there are, without question, many, many wonderful orphanages in India, the glaring fact remains that there are 31 million orphans in India. 31 million children who are right now not getting tucked into bed. 31 million children who wonder if they will get ONE meal today. Forget three. That hasn't happened since ... well, forever. 31 million children who have never had anyone comb their hair, remind them to eat their vegetables, or found a present with a big bow under the Christmas tree with their name on it. 31 million children who are at severe risk of being trafficked for sex -- with India considered by many to have the highest population of children who are sold into slavery.

It's kind of hard to wrap your mind around, isn't it?

Mine too.

So while I was debating whether or not we should decrease our savings account to adopt a child, on the other side of the world a big brother is debating whether to share his one bowl of food with his little sister. An orphanage is trying to decide which child from their long waiting list they should take off the streets. A mother is deciding which child to give up because she certainly can't take care of them all.

Again. Sometimes I can be so First World, it's embarrassing.

So, we are adopting a little girl from India. That means we're selling our house, and buying another one, with a third bedroom (anyone want a two-bedroom, 2 1/2 bath townhome in great condition?) That means we're selling our truck and getting a vehicle we can pay cash for, that's better on gas and will give us a few thousand extra in the bank. That means that those Groupon/Living Social/Buy 1, Get 1 Free restaurant meals we used to enjoy every now and then are a thing of the past, for now. That means more coupons, less spending, more work, less time off. 

But, in the bigger picture, does any of that really matter? I read a great blog about adoption (read it here), and while their story is different than ours, this stood out to me:

"I was further challenged when I was conversing with two other ladies about adoption. One just couldn't fathom bringing a stranger into her home to live with her other children. And the cost? Well, that meant that they would possibly have to go into debt or take away from their other children. Once she was done, all I could say is, 'For the price of your car, a child could be brought out of poverty and given a family forever.'"

We won't go into debt to bring our little girl home, because, well, except for a mortgage, we don't do debt. Period. We will be doing fund-raisers, so stay tuned. The estimated cost will be ... a lot. We are expecting upwards of $25,000.

We could get a girl anywhere between the ages of 6 months to 13 years. We are open to an older adoption, so it's really up in the air. To adopt from India, you have to agree to adopt a child with special needs. That, of course, doesn't mean that's what we will get, but we have said we are open to a child with challenges.

Yes, it's going to disrupt our lives. Yes, it's going to cost a lot. Yes, it's going to insert-word-here. But I can barely talk about it without crying. She -- whoever she is, however old she is, whatever story she brings with her -- already feels like a part of our family.

One more thing. Any time international adoption comes up, it seems the correlating question, at least for some people, is why we would travel halfway around the world when there are so many children who need homes right here in our own country. It's a valid concern.

We think adopting from our own country is an excellent idea. We've talked about it ourselves, especially an older child. There's certainly a big need right in our own backyard, and we applaud anyone who welcomes a child from the United States into their home. For us, it came down to a few things. One, we just felt the pull to India. That's by far the most important factor. But also, while there is an undeniable need in our country, the conditions in orphanages in other parts of the world are far less than what most children in our own country face. But, that door for us is by no means closed.

So.

WE ARE ADOPTING A GIRL FROM INDIA!!!!

P.S. Our apologies to those we wanted to tell in person but didn't get a chance to yet. We would have loved to have had the chance to sit down with every one of our friends and shared this in person, but life happened.

P.P.S. To help us bring her home, click here, and in the bottom right-hand corner, put 'Johnny and Gayle Thompson' in the space for Designated Family. Checks can be made payable to AWAA, and sent to America World Adoption Association, Attn: Accounting Dept., 6723 Whittier Ave., Suite 202, McLean, VA 22101, along with a form that can be found here. Checks must be designated for the Eternal Family Fund. Or, you can donate to our GoFundMe page.