We are back now, and I am all aflush with the joys of paperwork. There is not so much more to do now, but I have questions about what little I have. There is scheduling to do to get our friend-turned-notary so that we can go together to two different offices to notarize signatures of people who cannot go elsewhere to sign something for us. I like to call it BYON: Bring Your Own Notary. We are blessed and lucky to have a friend who is willing to do this for us. But today there’s not much that can be done because (surprise!), it’s Columbus Day, and government offices, where many forms originate, are not open to answer my queries. I guess that’s all right; I’ve got plenty to do for one day. It’s just that this is what I’d prefer to be doing, much more than I prefer to do laundry or unpack or let Ira Glass be my companion as I cook our dinner. Because while we were away, something happened. We got our weekly update from our agency, and noted that there were new waiting children on the site, and when I pulled up the page, there was a baby girl there that we most certainly would be willing to adopt. She is beautiful, with big eyes and stripey pants and a birth defect that needs correcting. There would be a short series of surgeries, then some additional work to do. We could handle it. But there are a couple of things standing in our way. First, another family is already reviewing her information. Second, we don’t have a completed dossier, so we couldn’t request to review her information even if there weren’t someone else already doing so. These two factors combined mean that she is likely not the Magnolia we are looking for. I know that I couldn’t have had any more done with our paperwork, given my schedule during the summer and early fall, plus the obstacles that we didn’t foresee. But the fact of the matter is that if we’d had our stuff together, she might not have shown up on that waiting child page at all. She might have just been presented to us as a possible referral, and she wouldn’t have to wait. I hate that she has to wait; if you saw her, you would hate it, too. One reason I want so much to make a family by adopting is that I believe that every child deserves a loving family, that no child should have to wait. And yet there are all these children, with big eyes and funny sneakers and noses that need to be wiped, and they are waiting.
And so, I begin to work again in earnest on our paperwork. Because when our Magnolia shows up? I don’t want to keep her waiting.