The Call: Jen's side of the story

There is a lot to tell, so I will probably spread it out over a few posts. Also, until we get Pre-Approval from China (PA) we are not at liberty to post too many details about her or any photos. Words will have to suffice, for now.

Tuesday began normally enough. I had a few fittings at the shop to go to in the afternoon and I realized I hadn't blogged in a while. I wrote this entry having absolutely no idea that anything would change about our wait time. In fact, I remember thinking, "Well the shared list for August will probably come out on the 22nd, but I think we won't get matched until the September list. Better fill the time!"

On my way to the fitting I was stressed and called Kevin. We needed to send a check to our agency and I didn't know the exact amount, so he called them. They told him the amount and gave not one hint they would be calling me less than 2 hours later. Jerks.

I finished up my fittings and was getting in my car when my phone rang with a non-local area code. I get a fair amount of brides from all over, so this isn't so unusual. Then I realized it was the area code of our agency. "Crap! They told Kevin the wrong amount and now they want to get on my case to hurry the check up." I tossed the dresses in the back of the car, turned on the a/c, and answered the phone. Transcript time!

Me- "This is Jen."
Phone- "Hi Jen, it's Sarah from the waiting child department. How are you?"
What I was thinking- *waiting child department? Why are they calling about the check?*
Me- "Hi Sarah, I'm good, how are you?"
Sarah- "I'm really good!"
*weird*
Sarah- "So Jen, I'm calling because we have a file for a little girl that we'd like you and Kevin to look over and decide if she's your daughter."
*HEAD EXPLODES!!!*
Me- "SERIOUSLY?!?!?!?"
Sarah- laughing, "Yes!"

Next I scrambled to find a pen in my car, which is a feat even when I am completely aware of the world around me, which I was not. Hooray, I found one! Crap! I dropped it between the seats! Oh good, another one! Eff! Where is something to write on??!?!??!?!?!?!?

Sarah just chuckled and told me to take my time while I explained my various difficulties with all the eloquence of a walrus. Not my finest moment, to be sure. Finally, I found a pen that wasn't under the cruel grips of an unusually strong gravitational pull, and a paper that was bigger than a gum wrapper. Winning!

She then told me her name (which I wrote down wrong since my phone makes it hard to distinguish sounds and my brain had turned into paste), birth date, province, and what her special need was: cleft lip and palate. Operation Smile performed her lip repair in April and she is being sponsored by a charitable organization that puts kids into smaller group-home style orphanages so they get more one-on-one attention and tend to do much better. She then said words like "lively" and "active" and "cutest cheeks ever" and who knows what else. "Would you like me to email the file to you for review?" Honestly, does anyone ever say no? I didn't.

I got off the phone and called Kevin, who freaked out his co-workers by answering the phone nonchalantly, then saying, "WHAT!???!?!?!??" and walking out of the room. I'll let him tell his side later. I drove home and didn't even crash or hit an old lady. Sometimes I amaze even myself.

When I pulled into the driveway, I decided to call my friend Nanette since I had to talk to someone about this craziness, but family was out of the question. We didn't know if we'd accept the file or not and if we told them and then turned it down, well, it would have been hard on everyone. Apparently, Nanette was busy having tea with the queen or something and didn't answer. I was all on my own.

I opened my email and saw a message from Sarah with the little girl's name as the subject line. After a few minutes of trying not to hyperventilate and a quick prayer that if we are to adopt this child that it may be made clear, I open it. She's on our agency's list rather than the shared list, so we have a week to decide. I look at her pictures and there is no instant pull. I just see adorably chubby cheeks and a bulky sweater. Her medical info looks really good, the repair looks great, she is obviously cute and well cared for, but is she ours? I really couldn't say. Honestly, it didn't feel real at all. I didn't know whether to laugh that our agency was pulling such an effective prank on us, or cry that we had to decide the future of this sweet little girl. Talk about pressure and conflicting emotions!

Nanette called me about 5 minutes later, and after the initial shock of it all, we talked about this girl and who knows what else. She told me about feeling connected and not with her biological kids (which helped so much, Nanette, you are made of magic!). I kept looking at her picture trying to figure out if this was our daughter. I knew we had time, I knew we should talk about it together, and I knew we needed to have a doctor look over the file to see if everything looked good. I knew all of that, but I still wanted some indication of what to do.

I didn't have an instant recognition or confirmation. When I first looked at her picture I saw her cleft (it wasn't bad, it was just the thing I was most concerned about so I naturally was going to notice it first), then her cheeks, then a ridiculous blue sweater; a sweater knit by someone who wanted to do a good deed and keep a baby halfway across the world warm. I saw her eyes, of course I did, but I didn't really look at them. I don't know why, I just didn't.

After about 20 minutes of being re-assured that it was a lot to take in and whatever choice we made would be the right one, I looked into those eyes. Really looked. Then it slowly dawned on me, I knew those eyes. I had dreamed those eyes for months. I knew that face. "I think I am looking at my daughter." And I knew.