A Boy from Akron

"Kate, check your email and let me know what you think", the text read from Steve.

He doesn't normally send me texts like that and when he does, they are usually about trying to schedule a time to meet up with a couple or a Groupon for a Denver adventure.

I open up my email and it is a forwarded message telling of a young girl in Akron who is pregnant and not wanting to keep the baby. "Does anyone know of anyone who may be able to help this young girl out?"

I didn't think much of it. We have received many forwarded emails or questions similar to this. One commitment Steve and I have made is that we would be open to taking the next step with any situation that involves a requested need for adoptive parents to step in. And we have.

A few months ago, I sat in Akron General Hospital beside a young girl, strung out on heroine who had just given birth to her very sick daughter. We had been contacted earlier that week about her situation and that she would need someone to step in and adopt this baby because the young girl was deemed unfit to be a mother because of her addictions.

So, there I sat, 3 hours after her delivery, just the two of us in this cold empty room, void of life though new life had just entered in. I held her hand and prayed over her as her body rocked back and forth and her teeth chattered. Tears rushed down her face uncontrollably as she shared her life with me. Her arms told stories of pain and addiction. Her words spoke of heartache unimaginable. Meanwhile, her baby girl lay rooms away, coming off of her own addictions, paying for choices she did not make.

We were ready. We were ready to bring this little baby into our family, to call her our own.  But a very adamant birth family member came in to the picture and would allow no such thing. So we walked away, saddened and angered over the pain in this world. We were frustrated by the cycle of how poverty and addiction ravish lives and tear apart hopes and dreams. But we prayed and continued to ask God to help us be available to whatever may come our way. We asked Him to help us keep our hearts open when so much pain would tempt us to close them up and not allow anymore let-downs.

So three weeks ago, I made the phone call to the "contact person"that was on the email forwarded to us.  This young pregnant girl's story was shared with me. At the end of the conversation, I shared our heart for adoption and our desire to enlarge our family, "But we do live in Colorado now. Is that going to be a problem?"

The next 10 days that followed were a sprint. My days were filled with phone calls to attorneys and adoption agencies in both Ohio and Colorado. We even had a Skype conversation with the young woman carrying this child. Through all of this the ball kept rolling.

As we began to sense that an adoption may actually be possible, Steve and I decided that it would be best for me to travel to Ohio to meet this young pregnant woman in person. So, 4 days later, I hopped on an airplane and took a whirlwind 36 hour trip to Akron.

I picked her up and we rode to her doctors appointment together, excited to find out the gender of the baby and how things were progressing.  We went to lunch afterwards and talked about hopes and dreams for her and for this child she is carrying. (It was all very surreal and there will be plenty of blog posts to come about this visit and it's effects on my heart).

There we sat, after the appointment, staring at the ultra sound picture together and pointing out all of this little baby's pieces and parts as the technician had described to us earlier.  She looks across the table and says to me, "You're having a boy". Our eyes held fixed as she said those words, and in that moment there was this realization of our deep need for each other. Adoption is a beautiful mess. Glorious ruins. Out from the pain of both of our stories emerge life, motherhood and freedom. It is God making things good that shouldn't be good.

A boy from Akron.

It's funny to think that heading into this second adoption we believed God was leading us to a girl from Russia. And I remember writing when we first began that I could not expect everything to go the same as our first adoption because God is a creator, not a duplicator. But, oh, the irony. Oh, the beauty. Our son, residing in this beautiful girl's body...in Akron, Ohio.

So where do we go from here?

At this point, we don't know many details of what is to come. We know that the baby is due December 24th. We know that there are many things that could happen which would threaten this adoption from ever getting completed. Even so, we are moving forward.

We are in the process of updating our home study and have applied with an agency to help us through the complicated details of an "inter-state designated adoption."

We are hopeful. Scared. Excited. Cautious.

And Dima wants to name him Dima Jr.

What ever happened to our adoption plans from India?

After we moved to Colorado, we were getting the sense from our agency that adopting from India was becoming increasingly difficult for American families. The wait time was extended to up to at least 2 years and the age and needs of the children available were changing.

We explored other options, but realized quickly that the world of international adoption, though still active is definitely not as sure as it once was. Our hearts were becoming unsettled and we began praying for God to make it so clear to us for how to move forward.

Our hearts are still deeply connected and passionate about international adoption. That will never change. And our prayer is that God will allow us to walk down that road again in the future.

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• Please pray that this adoption would go through. If it does, we will bring home a baby in 4 months! Pray for our hearts as we walk this unstable road
• Pray for the birth mom to make good, healthy choices as she carries this sweet little life
• Pray for the details to work out quickly since we are stepping into this pretty late in the "normal" process
• Pray for our relationship with the birth mom to continue to grow as we continue to keep regular communication with her

Until next Monday,
Love: Steve, Kate and Dima

Where have we been?

"Have you stopped updating the blog?"
"Where have you been?"
"Is everything ok?"

(First off, I'm sorry for not keeping the blog more updated in the last couple of months. We have been going through a major life change and have not shared it publicly until the past few weeks).

A couple of months ago, a conversation began between Steve and the director of ministries of a church in Parker, Colorado. To make a long, 3 month story short, after many interviews and much prayer, Steve and I decided that we did want to accept the job and move our family across the country. He will be the Family Pastor, which means that he will get to set the vision and course for children from birth through 18. We will be investing in families and partnering with parents and seeing how the church can best support families as we all walk this bumpy road of parenthood together.

As we were flying out to Colorado last week to settle some of the final details, I said to Steve, "Isn't it so ironic that you are the "Family Pastor"? Tears filled my eyes as I laughed to myself. This is a beautiful picture of God's redemption in our lives. 5 years ago, an infertile couple who had all but given up on the thought of being parents, would never dream of being a "Family Pastor". We have no experience to offer about birth stories, breastfeeding vs. formula, sleepless nights with a newborn, how to teach a child to walk...

But here is what experience we can bring:
How do you trust God when you feel like He is not answering prayer the way you want Him to?
What does it look like to be forced into patience (whether you want to be or not)?
What do you do with pain?
How do you rejoice with those who rejoice when you are in your own place of mourning?
How does God's love meet you in deep and personal ways in the face of drowning hopelessness?
What does it mean to marvel in God's goodness when He makes beauty from ashes?

And really aren't those the questions that bring us together anyway? We can talk all day about schooling or diapers, but those aren't the questions that keep us up at night, that keep us on our knees in prayer, that force us to rely on each other for prayer and support and encouragement. I look forward to living life with these new families in Colorado. To share in joy and pain, in the giving and taking away.  I believe that God has exciting and great things for our family in the years to come and I can't wait to see what He does!

But, I'm also sad. Sad to leave the deep history of connection here in Akron. After 10 years of living somewhere, roots have been established. We have celebrated marriages, births, graduations of close friends and families we have grown to love. We have grieved loss, miscarriage, sickness, wayward children with friends and families we have grown to love. As I hugged a sweet high school student on the day we announced our leaving, she spoke into my ear, "you walked with me through some of the darkest days...." tears flowed down my face as I looked at the beauty that God had made out of her life.

But I can say the same for myself about so many people, friends who have become like family, in Akron. You have walked with me through some of my darkest days. You have walked with me through infertility and realities that come with a diagnosis that alters the dreams for your life. You have supported us as we made the decision to adopt a child from Russia. You have thrown fundraisers and garage sales and given sacrificially to bring our child home. You have waited with us...and then waited some more. You have prayed us through the times where we were too weary to pray on our own.

And there will never be a day like the day we brought our son home. After close to 20 hours of traveling with a sad, frustrated, fear-filled child that we now call, son, we came down the escalator of the Cleveland airport to be greeted by the sounds of cheers, tears and laughter. A mass of people filling the airport baggage area to show their support and encouragement of how we became "a family".  You have given much grace as we have taught our child who only knew 4 walls of an institution what it means to be in a loving family. What it means to go on a playdate. What it means to share. What it means to not have to fight for the snacks on the table. You, Akron family, have lavished us with grace and love...and there are no words to say thank you. This is the history we leave. And we step into a place that calls us "The Garcia Family". Few will know how we got that name.

So we say "goodbye" with much sadness to our Akron Family. And we say "hello" with much excitement and anticipation to our new Parker Family.

UPDATES:
-Because of the move, we have put our India adoption on hold.
It is still going to happen, but we will have to update our homestudy once we establish new residency.
-Thankfully, because our New Jersey background check took close to 4 months, we have not lost any money because of our move

PRAYER:
-Please pray for our family as we begin this new and exciting chapter in our lives.
-Pray for Dima as this will be a big change for him, and for us as we parent him through this new transition.
-Pray that God would continue to open the door for our adoption to move through even amidst the set-backs.

Until next blog post, love,
Steve,Kate&Dima

Expectant Mother

Last week Steve and I sat around a table filled with other young couples for a parent training class at our church. One of our first activities was to count up the number of children represented at the table. 2+3+1+2. We had our total.

"Oh wait, Jenny and John are due next month. Add 1."
Everyone agreed. Of course!
"What about Steve and Kate...aren't you guys adopting? Should we count your family as 2 kids?" Silence.
Awkward "umm's" and uneasy "yeah, maybe's".
"Well, our table isn't going to win anyway, so it doesn't matter."

I get it. I feel the same tension. Are we expecting? Are we counted as a family of 3 or a family of 4. Pregnant Jenny definitely counts. But do I? There's no life growing inside of me. And there really is no definite time frame of when or if a child will be added to our family. I feel the same confusion with the continuation of the blog at this point. Steve said it best today as we were talking about it: "It's like trying to get into the Christmas spirit in January".

With pregnancy, there is a clear end date. Sure, one may go a week or two past their due date, but I've never asked a pregnant person when they are due and their answer was, "I don't know...could be next month, might be next year".

There is clarity in their waiting. There are countdowns and things to expect when you're expecting. If there was a book written about what to expect when you are adopting, only one sentence would be truthful: "There is nothing predictable about an international adoption."

There may be steps in the process that are clear markers, but when you are dealing with 2 constantly changing governments, the time distance between those markers contains no promises. This is incredibly frustrating.

I'd love to be able to provide a clear answer of when our daughter will come home. I'd love to track her progress on facebook with what size of fruit she may be right now, but I can't. This adoption, much more than the last one, has thrust us into a very unknown place. I feel like i've been blindfolded, taken to a dark room and told to find my way out.

I feel like I'm fumbling my way through the new terminology of adopting from India, I'm constantly stubbing my toe on the roadblocks of paperwork and changes. The darkness overtakes my spirit at times and my natural response is to go straight to fear and doubt. At times I feel bound to the dark waiting room, even though I know that God desires for us to be bound to Him alone.

I'm trying to focus on life right now - the joys, the hopes, the dreams, and the opportunities God has for me right now. I don't want my life to constantly hang in the balance of waiting. I want to experience what God has for me right now.

Here is what we do know right now about the India adoption process:

• Once our home study update is complete, it is sent to the US Government for approval.
• That approval, (along with all other documents) gets sent to the CARA (Central Adoption Resource Agency) in India.
• The CARA then looks for the best RIPA (confused yet?)
• The RIPA is the Recognized India Placement Agency - which is basically an orphanage

Once we reach the RIPA, we are officially "registered."

• That RIPA then labors to match us with one of their available children. 
• This process could take anywhere from a couple of months to a couple of YEARS.
• Once we are "matched", a tedious process of paperwork and court dates is set in motion, which again, could take months. 

Then we would take ONE TRIP to India to bring our child home.

So, we feel like we are probably 18 months - 2 years away from completing our Indian adoption. We are learning as we go. This is a brand new experience for us and we are asking God for wisdom at every turn.

Thank you for journeying with us. Because we are so far off, I, at times, feel silly for even keeping this blog updated. How many years of blog entries can be about "waiting"? :) But, I so appreciate your dedication to our journey. Your words of encouragement and prayers carry us through this wild adventure.

Also, I have decided to classify myself as an expectant mom.

With confidence, I fully EXPECT God to sustain my heart, bring patience to my soul and give me the strength to live in the today He has given me.

Until next Monday,
love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Remembering

Today is a special day. March 4th is "homecoming day". It is the day we celebrate our son's coming home from Russia. After 8 years of infertility, 2 years of the adoption process, tens of thousands of dollars, crazy amounts of paperwork, multiple trips to Russia, we brought our son home.

After 8 months in house filled with neglect and pain followed by a year in a Russian institution filled with monotony and 4 sterile walls, we brought our son home.

As we came down the escalator in the Cleveland airport to the sounds of family and friends cheering and the image of balloons and signs, laughter and tears, all of the trials of the process seemed to fade away. It was a new day. The beginning of new life for our son, for us, for our family.

An orphan now a son, a barren woman now a mother. It was a beautiful, redemptive moment of God's work in all of our lives.

So today we celebrate. We had a sleepover in our basement and all slept cuddled up together like we shared three years ago during those long nights in Moscow. We woke up and had a traditional Russian breakfast of blini (thin pancakes), fruit and coffee. We went to Build-A-Bear workshop to remember Dima's very first stuffed animal, Mishka that we brought to him on our first trip and that he brought home.

Mishka is an adventurous little bear who has traveled the world and is not as soft as he once was. And so we talked about how much better life is when our story is defined by adventure. Mishka might not be as soft and he may have picked up scabies along the way, but Mishka has a story. He didn't just spend his life on a shelf. His matted fur tells a story of longing, freedom and love. And we praised stories of adventure and the epic story of our son.

We finished off the celebration at TGIFridays, which is the first restaurant we ate at in Moscow. We laughed (now) about how he crawled under the table of a Russian family while we tried to call him out. "Idi- cominye, Dima" (Come here, Dima) And how the Russian families were tsk-ing our parenting efforts in disapproval. But, we celebrate. We remember the good times. We remember God's faithfulness. We remember how He knit our stories together from the beginning.

It's good to remember, especially when you're frustrated with God's timing. Dima's homecoming day could not have come sooner. While I am still frustrated with the timing of our 2nd adoption, the Russian adoption ban, the long wait time in India, as well as recent letdowns, I still remember.

I remember how 9 months into our first adoption, we had to change regions which essentially started the waiting process all over again.

I remember how in the beginning of our adoption journey I wondered how I could ever wait an entire year to bring home our son...but I waited two.

I remember how when I first saw a picture of Dima, my heart leapt in my chest. I knew he was our son.

I remember how the waiting felt unbearable, but God always lifted my heart when I felt like I could not take it any longer.

I remember the fears.
I remember the heartache.
I remember the joy.
I remember God's faithfulness.

There is something about looking back that brings hope to looking forward.

David (in the Bible) questions God and asks "Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He slammed the door on His compassion?" And then, in the very next breath, he says, "But then I remember all You have done, O Lord; I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago. You are the God of great wonders!"

It's as if David's pen was writing the words of my heart. For the last few weeks, I have been asking similar questions...
"God, have you forgotten to be gracious?"
"Have you slammed  the door of compassion on our life and on the life of our little girl?"
"Do you see me?"
"Do you hear me?"
"Do you love me?"
"Are you really faithful and good?"

And then today, March 4th, Homecoming Day. I remember.
"I remember Your wonderful deeds God. You are the God of great wonders!"

Updates:

• we recently learned of more challenges and longer wait times to our India adoption from a conference that was held last week in India concerning adoption
• we are still working and waiting on paperwork to complete our update for our home study to then get our US approval before we can apply to register in India. 

Prayer Requests:

• Please pray for our hearts as we take in the reality of the waiting. 
• Pray for all of the paperwork that needs to be completed before we can register in India.
• Please pray for our little girl - that God would protect her and surround her with love.

Until next Monday, 

Love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Aruna

The summer of 2007 was the first time I ever stepped foot in the beautiful country of India. As we walked off the airplane, we were welcomed by the many sights, sounds, and smells. Wall to wall people was the backdrop of our walk through the airport. The sounds of cars, buses, and rickshaws honking, each with their own customized ring tone quickly became the new score played behind every conversation.

Steve and I were there along with a team of high school students from our church. And as we made our way to the compound where we stayed for the 2 weeks, we became overwhelmed with the beautiful dichotomy that is India. On the same real estate can sit a beautiful, colorful mansion and a small shack village of pieced together dwellings. We would be enthralled by the beauty of a scene only to be slapped in the face with the reality of poverty sharing the same moment. There was so much to take in.

One of the opportunities we had while we were in India was to develop and lead a youth conference. Our team put together dramas and songs and games to share with our new friends, and through the help of translators, we were able to encourage them in their lives and learn from them as well. 

Many of these young people were extremely poor and traveled for 2 days on long, hot bus rides just to get to the conference. I instantly connected with one of the girls, a precious 12 year old named Aruna. 

She spoke no english. I spoke no Hindi. We spent the day drawing pictures back and forth, taking photos on my camera, walking around together, eating together, drinking chai together. It truly is amazing how love can transcend a language barrier. 

We spent 4 days together and on the last day of the conference, she handed me her cell phone. 

I placed it up to my ear. "Hello?" 

I never thought I'd be receiving a phone call from someone in India :) It was her pastor from her village. He spoke some broken english and wanted to tell me how much Aruna learned from the conference. It was a great and encouraging conversation. Aruna and I said our tearful goodbyes and we parted ways back to our homes. 

Fast forward one year to the summer of 2008. I had the opportunity to return to India with a different group of high school students. to lead another youth conference in the same place. I thought about Aruna a lot over the year, but never dreamed that I would ever see her again.

We weren't there long when one of the local leaders of the conference found me and said, "Kate, there is someone here who is anxious to see you." And out walks Aruna, along with her sister and her mother. "Hi Kate", she said. "How are you?"

Aruna had spent the year learning english in anticipation of seeing each other again. 

It was a beautiful reunion. She introduced me to her family and we again, enjoyed the days together. This time, on the last day of the conference, Aruna and her family invited me back to their room. They presented me with a beautiful Indian garment called a salwar. It was one of the most difficult gifts I have ever had to receive because I knew the cost that went into the gift. 

Who knows how many months wages went into the purchase of this gorgeous outfit? 

I tried it on and then they rubbed oil on my arms and braided my hair with flowers. I sat there with tears streaming down my face as these 3 beautiful women blessed me. I was so humbled in that moment. I came to India to be a blessing. As it turned out, I was the one being blessed. 

In many ways, I feel like this is the story of our adoption. We enter the journey with a motivation to bless, by "rescuing" a child from a dire situation. But the reality is, we are far more blessed by the gift of parenthood. 

I feel strange sometimes when people say things like, "wow, this little girl in India is so lucky to have you take her out of these circumstances." Or, "Dima is so lucky to have been rescued out of the orphanage. He is so blessed." But, the truth is we are the ones who are blessed. I would not be a mom without Dima or our little girl. Their very lives are God's precious gift to us. 

I so look forward to the day we bring our little blessing home from India. Though it seems like such a distant hope and dream, it is the memories of people like Aruna that remind me of the joy that is to come.  I hope to tell my daughter the stories of her country and all of the beautiful people we've met there. And what a special day it will be when I can sit in our living room and braid my daughter's hair with flowers and tell her about another special Indian girl named Aruna.

Prayer Requests:

• patience - it's frustrating to think how long this process will take
• for our little girl - that God would be preparing her for us and us for her

Until next Monday, 

love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Starting Over

Last weekend, our social worker came to our house for our home study. This is required for adoption. Though we already went through all of this when we began our Russian adoption, switching to India has required us to do this again. We always enjoy our time with our social worker. She is very kind and helpful. But, honestly, I didn't want to have to see her again for a while.

And I was reminded of the reality that we truly are starting over.

Based on where we were with our Russia adoption, we believe we were days away from receiving our referral (the child's picture, age & region). We worked hard and quickly to get our paper work completed and had waited for 6 months. Our hearts were building with anticipation and then this past weekend, the adrenaline of the last couple of months subsided and I sat on the couch after she left in an overwhelmed state of frustration.

I looked in front of me at the new stack of paper work that needed to be completed. Documents that needed to be mailed out. Phone calls that need to be made. Papers that have to wait on other papers before they can get mailed out. Months of paper work that lay ahead of us before we can get to the "waiting phase"...again.

Now, I do know that there are much worse situations that I can be in. I also know that in many ways, this is the path we have chosen. But I have to be honest with my feelings. Sometimes it just doesn't feel fair.

I look at families who strategically plan out the ages of their children, most of whom are 2 years apart. And somehow, miraculously, it works. I look at my 5 year old son and think about the fact that he will probably be 7 before his sister even comes home. This just isn't the way I envisioned our family plan.

I wanted the 2 years apart playmates. I wanted the pregnancy. I wanted "my" plan to work. And though I absolutely am passionate about adoption, about my son, about my daughter, about the story God has written for us and how He has redeemed our barrenness...sometimes, the pain of infertility rears it's ugly head in my heart and I mourn again the loss of the broken dream.

I get frustrated over how easy some people have it when it comes to having babies. There is this strange and beautiful marriage of sorrow and joy within my soul. The deep sorrow of dreams lost, mix with the  love and generosity that came through adoption.

On most days, joy wins. I look in the face of my son and never once doubt that he was meant for our family. He brings life and laughter and joy to my soul on a daily basis. But some days, sorrow wins. Like today.

I cling to the hope of God's word that sorrow may last for a night, hope is rising with the sun. With this,  God brings me back to His heart with a comforting peace. And it's okay to feel sadness. This does not mean that I don't love the story God has written for our family, it simply means these emotions can happen together. Joy and sadness all in one heart, all at one time.

UPDATES:

• We have completed our home study interview. Now we wait for it to sent to the US government for approval
• Once this happens, we begin on documents that are specific to India. 

PRAYER REQUESTS:

• that we don't lose heart heading into yet another season of waiting
• for our little girl, somewhere in India, that God would be preparing her heart for our family

Until next Monday,

love: Kate, Steve & Dima

Broken in the Marketplace

I will never forget the day I walked into a crowded market in India. The taxi dropped us off on the side of the road and as we began to walk down the street, a mob of young street children bombarded us. "Sir, mum...please, may I have some money. Please." 

We were strongly urged to not give money to any children in the streets because the money never actually went to them. With tears in my eyes, I looked at this one little girl who couldn't have been more than five. I said, "I'm sorry, I have no money". 

As I walked away, I suddenly felt this little girl literally jump onto my back. "Please mum, please." I gently pulled her off my back and as I looked into her eyes, all I saw was vacancy. Her dark hair was matted to her dirtied skin. Her clothes tattered and torn with a faded out image of a sunshine on the front of her too small tshirt.  Her soul had been ravished by the injustices of this world. She was no longer her own, she belonged to another. And as she walked away, I watched her turn the corner and face an angry looking man who was obviously expecting a return. 

My heart broke. I could do nothing for that girl. 

Amidst the busyness of the marketplace, my mind stood still. There was no category in my brain to explain this away. I had just stared in the eyes of the reality of injustice. And my life changed. 

Even if I had all the money in the world to give her, it would leave her hands and she would be sent back to the streets. In that moment I pleaded with God to give me the strength and ability to do something. For years, that meant prayer and encouraging those who were able to act. Praying for the courageous Indians who were literally dying on behalf of freedom and justice for their people.  And now, I feel God is stirring our hearts to move us into more action. 

When we were starting our second adoption we considered India as an option, but since the country was not open to international adoption at the time we felt compelled towards Russia again. Once we made that decision we really didn't think twice about any other countries, until a month ago when the Russian adoption ban became a reality for our family. 

We have been praying, seeking counsel, talking with international adoption specialists and social workers and have been trying to make the best possible choice for our family. 

We first had to take a step back and ask ourselves, why do we desire international adoption? The first reason is because we desire another child. The second reason is because we want to give a child a family who otherwise would have no hope without the reality of adoption.

As we thought and prayed through that statement, there became no greater option in our lives than to adopt our daughter from India. 

So we take this step forward towards an Indian adoption. We are nervous. This is new and uncharted waters. This has unique implications on even what our family is going to look like. But we believe that God's love covers all - including skin color and culture. And the bond that He will give to us as we call ourselves "family" will be unbreakable with His love at the core. 

As an affirming sign of God's provision, the agency we had been using for our Russian adoption also works in India. This is actually pretty unbelievable considering there are not many agencies who work in India. Financially speaking, we will not lose any of our agency money or donations and almost everything will transfer. 

Unfortunately, we will have to start from the beginning with our paper work. This means a new home study, as well as new government approval. Hopefully we will be able to move through it quickly since we just went through it, but it is starting over. 

Once our paperwork gets completed, it will be sent to India and then begins the waiting process (similar to Russia). It seems like our wait time will be around a year. India requires two trips: the first to meet our daughter, the second to bring her home. 

Seven years ago, God began planting a seed into our hearts. It was a seed that grew from visiting India, to sponsoring a child in India, to praying for the people of India. God is continuing to water that seed by giving us the unbelievable opportunity to bring a daughter into our lives from this amazing country. 

We are thankful that you are taking this journey with us. The bumps and the turns can be nauseating at times, but we keep our eyes on Him and continue to trust in His goodness and faithfulness.

Until next Monday,

love: Kate, Steve & Dima