Yesterday as I was leaving work, a lady stepped on to the elevator with me. She was the littlest, oldest lady I've seen in a long time. In one arm she carried her old lady purse and a miniature umbrella; in the other arm she carried a magazine with an almost-completely-naked Usher on the front. And I had to laugh, because even the old ladies, they love them some Usher.
And laughing was good, after the afternoon I had yesterday. Our adoption coordinator (let's call her D) is unsettling me. We've been waiting on updated reports on Eva, especially a medical report, since we've not had information on her since she was 10 months old (she is now 16 months old). Not only are we hungry for an update in general, but there are now concerns that there may be an issue with her left arm, that it may lack mobility, which could be a sign of something or nothing. Let me insert here that we did receive a brief medical on her when we chose her, and it did not mention a physical handicap of any sort. I feel that an arm that does not function would be one of the main points they'd want to hit on in a medical. So I truly believe that her information will come back just fine - if we can get anything back! D is asking her contact in-country every day for an update, and the delay in information is worrying her. She said it could be that they've taken Eva to a specialist to get a formal write-up that there are not (or maybe, are) problems. So yesterday she sent us two profiles of new little baby girls, each around 3 months old, that they just received. She wanted us to choose one of them as a "back-up" in case we received negative information on Eva. We were given 24 hours to make a choice before the new babies went out to the general public.
I informed her that not only did I not appreciate the deadline (not really set by D, more by her in-country people), but I needed to discuss in-depth with Keith before I made any decision, and I'd get back to her shortly. So after discussion last night, Keith and I decided not to hold one of the babies. We've decided that if the information on Eva comes back negative, we'll travel blind (or, choose a child in-country), which most likely means we'll come home with a son in lieu of a daughter. But - we're hoping and praying that everything will come in on Eva looking just fine and healthy. If you're the praying sort, we could use it in a major way right now. I am really at my breaking point with worry and stress and grief, and I hope that it's all for nothing, that everything comes back looking good. For now we're in the dark.
The boys are good. Owen's healing up nicely from his surgery, although his voice is different than before. Ari is walking like an almost-pro. The new van is working out wonderfully and is only mildly humiliating to drive. Keith is exhausted, needing a break from class, but he's into the real stuff now (preparing tax returns) and is really loving it. I'm so glad about that.
If I get any new information from D, I'll update. I don't anticipate that being today, though, or I will know that in fact (as my friend Kim would say) hell has frozen over.