I had gotten news from my coordinator earlier this week. It was the hold-your-breath, don't-jinx-it-by-speaking-of-it-out-loud kinda news that you think is too good to be true. It was. She had told me that Borya's and Julia's passports were expected in on 12/19. When I did the math, I figured they could be home to us by 12/23 or 24. But I was informed last night that they are now to be escorted to Almaty on 1/3, and they should be in the US on 1/7. Not exactly Christmas. Or New Year's. Well, I guess we still have Ground Hog's Day.
In the scheme of things, I know I can't complain. When I think back to all the obstacles in the way of this adoption ever becoming a reality (and they are too numerous to mention), I am thrilled beyond thrilled that my new son and daughter will be home to me in less than a month. Still, it's gonna be a bittersweet Christmas morning. On the one hand, I'll have the joy of basking in my kids' glow as they open their gifts and squeal and ooh and ahhh. On the other, I'll be thinking of Borya and Julia halfway around the world in cold, snowy Kazakhstan. No Christmas tree, no gifts, no family. Of course, once they get home we'll make it up to them in spades. Our tree will probably have dropped all its needles by then, but it'll still be up and decorated to the nines. I've made them each a stocking, which they will hang with care, and when they come down in the morning, they will get spoiled rotten.
They are loooong overdue for someone spoiling them rotten, don't you think?
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