Ode to Amy

My good friend, Amy is back in Ukraine for round two. She's adopting a brother and sister. She's the same Amy that saved my bacon when  I was in Ukraine - she adopted two girls from Alex's orphanage and her adoption over lapped with ours.
We have been in the trenches together. The Ukraine trenches and the "teach an orphan how to live in a family, a new language, manners & all things American" trench and here she is.....doing it again!

She invited me to come and keep her company during the ten day wait and I would have done it in a heartbeat - but we have a week long cruise planned to celebrate our anniversary around the same time she needed me. Boo. I really am ready to go back to Ukraine. No. Not to get another child. Please. I think we are to maximum capacity. No, I would go just to hang out with Amy. Yep. I like her that much. 

Anyway, she wrote a touching post today. If you want to read it, it's on my side bar. "Becoming A Family". Today she visited the orphanage where we adopted our children and this is what she wrote:

I realized as I left that I was crying for three reasons. One- Now that I love my girls so dang much, it broke my heart to imagine them there without me all those years. Two- Sweet memories from our last visit. Three- Seeing the stark difference between my girls and those orphans broke my heart. I remembered my girls as they were when I found them in that place and I realized fully for the first time how much they have changed.

They are beautiful, full of hope and light such a contrast to the poor kids we left behind.

So for all of us who have adopted I realized today that our hard work, patience, sacrifice, heartache and especially our love has made a difference. It is hard to see when we are in the trenches of daily life but today showed me how true it is. It also gave me fresh courage to do it all again. 

I so needed to hear this message.

I need to remember this 13 year old boy with the regular teen attitude consisting of eye rolls, exasperated huffs, evil looks and non caring shrugs is the same little boy that left all he knew, put his hand in mine, traveled 1/2 way around the world to leave every single person, place or memory that he had to be our son. 

I need to remember that this boy who can never seem to remember to do his jobs or practice the piano before playing video games and can't seem to remember that the hair on the back of his head needs to be combed too, was once a ten year old orphan in a ratty Winnie The Pooh sweatshirt that guiding me through the streets of Ukraine, carrying my bags, ordering my food and leaning against my shoulder and sighing because this is what he had hoped and prayed for,  a mama.

 I need to be reminded just how far he's come. How far WE'VE come and stop focusing on how much farther we have to go. 

Thanks Amy.

Thanks for reminding me.

Thanks for blogging and sharing.

God speed my friend!