As time went by, we began getting more and more anxious by the day. The shivers down my back became much more pervasive, to include my heart beating out of my chest every time I approached the mailbox, a lump in my throat, clammy hands, and cold feet. We kept on praying together as a family. We all felt anguished, helpless, distraught. Time kept on passing by. No news. Sybil, from Heartsent, left a message for the officer handling our file. No call back. Even though we're not in his constituency, I called the office of Congressman Duncan Hunter because we deeply share his strong Pro-Life views. They were more than willing to intervene on our behalf. In the meantime, we learned that Plamen had developed some kidney problems secondary to his spina bifida. Toni, from Bulgaria, helped a lot, with an affidavit executed by her, and anoher one signed by the pediatrician who works for her Foundation. Through Duncan Hunter's office, those documents were e-mailed to the USCIS officer, but his reply was that the problem did not appear to be serious enough to jusrify expedited processing. Moreover, he was waiting for "additional evidence" on our application, which was supposed to arrive from some mysterious source. I decided to call, and the processing officer answered the phone. He was polite, and seemed to like it when I told him that our family could offer something that was totally out of the ordinary: the certainty that throughout their lives, even after I am no longer on this earth, no children adopted into our family will ever end up in a group home--because there will always be one older sister and two older brothers for whom that option would be an unthinkable one. In fewer words than I'm wiring here, and with a tremolous words, I told him that I know my children well enough to be sure that, no matter any life circumstances, their love, their devotion, their dedication, their selflessness will not become any weaker as years go by. The officer replied that the problem was not so much with me, but with the process. Yet, it did not make sense. It's a totally transparent process, working with highly reputable Hague-accredited agencies that comparatively charge very moderate fees.
Through a Catholic Parish-based adoption advocacy group in Indianapolis, I got in contact with Jedd Medefind, leader of Christian Alliance for Orphans, who, in turn, put me in contact with someone I had just happend to have contacted on my own as well: McLane Layton, director of Equality for Adopted Children (EACH). McLane had helped us already two years ago when we were trying to get the visas for Thomas and Nicholas to come home from Haiti. This time she helped again. Yet, her inquiry on our behalf got no reply.We kept on getting more and more anxious.
My mom, who now has serious mobility problems and spends most of her days in prayer, started feeling really unwell, with very scary symptoms. Catherine seemed to lack energy to do anything. Gerard and Warren, who at 13 have 17 transferable community college credits already, during those days were unable to study for their finals. All three of them were totally different from their usual selves, always so committed, so enthusiastic, so athletic, and then so anxious, so lethargic, so down. I made several stupid mistakes in my law practice. Ancicipating any real problem made no sense, but I must confess I did not have a good feeling.
We were praying together to Jesus, to His Blessed Mother, to St. Anthony, to St. Jude, to St. Gerard, to almost all the saints. At one point I found myself unable to pray any more--and that really frightened me. I kept on leading our family prayers, but my mind was not there. I could not concentrate. It was around noon time one of those days when I looked up to Heaven above, and asked my dad and my maternal grandparents, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, you're much closer to God than I am. Could you please ask Him to get that I-800A approval for us. We simply cannot tolerate this wait any longer. I'm sure you're watching us from above and you know all this already-- and I'm sure God will listen to all of you.
The day after I got sick with one of those horrible migraines I tend to get when under stress. It was the worst one I had gotten in a long time. The second day I was still feeling badly, and Gerard and Warren had a final at Mira Costa College that evening. The mail had just arrived, and still no news. I got up from bed for a moment, and checked my e-mail--and there it was!!!! As I had asked her to do in order to minimize the already huge anxiety, Sybil, from Heartsent, had given to her message a clear and self-explanatory caption: "GREAT NEWS FROM CIS!!!!" She had just gone off the phone with our officer: he had already approved the case, and the I-797 Approval Notice was on its way to our home!!!
The very next afternoon, that precious piece of paper was in our mailbox. But the shivers did not stop running down my back. They were no longer shivers of anxiety over the immigration approval for this new adoption, but shivers of humble emotion but upon realization of what had just happened. I remembered a dream I had had when Thomas and Nicholas' files had been sent by the U.S. Consulate in Port-au-Prince to the wrong office, from where they could take months to come back. I clearly saw my dad, who had passed away in 1992, standing by surprise at the door, holding both Thomas and Nicholas in his arms. As I hugged all three of them in my dream, my dad told me, "I decided to go to Haiti to get them for all of you. I know how extremely eager Catherine and the twins were to have them home. Thomas and Nicholas are really good boys. I only left blank their middle names because I did not know which ones you wanted for them." In reality, in an adoption from Haiti you cannot select middle or even first names until the children are home with you at your permanent place of residence because the Haitian government does not allow any changes other than the kids' last names. Yet, in the morning following that dream, the files would be unexpectedly returned from that "mysterious" office to the consular one where they were supposed to be, and within a few more days our boys' visas would be issued for them to come home.
This time I can feel your prayers were in Missouri recently, and am sure they will be in Bulgaria very soon.