Dossier submission

Last week we finally sent in the Dossier to our adoption agency.  Upon their approval it'll be sent to Armenia to be translated into Armenian.  I feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders having that all taken care of and sent in.  The packet I sent into the agency was literally 2 inches thick.  I was nervous to put it in the mail because if for some reason it didn't get where it was headed I promise I would have cried like I had lost my first born.  Okay, maybe that is an exaggeration.  However, that was hours and hours of hard work.

I get a lot of questions, but mostly people just want to know WHEN we will be getting her.  I sure wish I knew!  It's very frustrating having so little information.  My children are getting so excited to have her in our family.  They pray for her.  She is constantly in our prayers.  We pray for her caretakers as well.   We pray that they love her and are taking good care of her.

I have been thinking a lot about how this will affect her.  When you start looking at the waiting lists of all of these children without parents and living in orphanages, you think about how much you could change their life by bringing them in.  I found myself wanting to save them and how much these poor children are looking for a place to live and people to love them.  It wasn't too long ago that I had the thought that really, they know no different.  There is a good chance that she will not want to leave her orphanage.  There's a chance that she has fallen in love with her caretakers and her friends there.  I have worried that she will resent us at first, that she won't like us because we are taking her from everything she knows.  You know what?  I really wouldn't blame her!

I remember when we did foster care growing up.  My parents would take in these children who had been abused in every way imaginable.  They didn't know when their next meal would come.  They were not living in great environments.  They were each different in their own way, but they had one thing in common- They all wanted to go back to their parents, no matter how they were treated or where they lived.

That's my concern for our sweet girl.  She may not see us as "saving her from an orphanage", but rather a couple of weirdos who are ripping her away from where she is comfortable, from friends and other people she loves.  It is very possible that it'll take a while for her to adjust.

I feel so blessed to have so many people in my life who I KNOW will love her like their own.  I only hope that she will feel that love.


That's all for now!  Hope to have an update soon.  I wouldn't count on it though ;-)

Nothing

Unfortunately I have ZERO news to give you.  We have sent in our paperwork to immigrations and are waiting to get our I-797, which in English means that we are waiting for permission to bring a child into the United States.  Once we receive our I-797, our paperwork will then be sent to Armenia for it to be translated into Armenian.  Once they do that, they will inform us to come to meet her.  It seems like forever away, however, I understand that to the adoption agency, things are moving "quickly".  Or so they say.  They don't seem quick to me, but that is what they say.

Anyways, I'll keep you posted.

Stuck in the mud

Just a brief update... IT IS TAKING FOREVER.  Kinda annoying.  I can see why it takes a year or more!  People move so slowly, especially the government.  I don't know how anyone does this multiple times, I'd go NUTS.

The homestudy has been completed.  He came and said that we are qualified to be parents.  (Good news after 4 children.)

Also, there are people who are getting locked out of this blog and I'm not sure why.  I'm sorry if I've had to send you multiple invitations.  At least you're reading this now!  :)

This is why we haven't made it completely public, because otherwise we have a lot of people asking us for an update and we don't have one.  It's very frustrating.

Gag order has been lifted

I feel like I've taken a breath of fresh air.  Keeping all of this between Marc and I has been SO hard.  I was able to tell all of my family tonight the whole story of our sweet girl.  We shared with Marc's family last night.  It makes it all the more exciting!

I feel so blessed to have such incredible families.  I know that my family would do ANYTHING to help us.  Marc's parents told us last night that they were willing to help us in any way they could as well.  Why does Heavenly Father love us so much?!

On top of how excited I am that I can finally talk to people about this, my cousin Paige introduced me to a couple who served missions for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Armenia.  We were able to chat about the country.  I think they will be a huge help in this transition for her.  One thing that I've been so worried about is bringing this sweet girl to a new country, new people, and new language.  I can only imagine how scared she'll be.  I am excited to learn more about the language and the Armenian people from them.

We have decided to name her Brielle after the Angel Gabriel, who came and told Mary and Elizabeth they'd be having a child.  We feel like she is our angel who we've been guided to by the Holy Ghost.  At this time we have not been informed of her Armenian name.  She has a screen name that they give her to put on the internet, but because of privacy rules they cannot post her actual name online.

Nowhere to be found

I forgot to mention a while back how we decided that she was the one we wanted to go after.  There were so many sweet faces on the waiting list.  We inquired of many of them.  They tell you their age, the country they're in, and what special need they have.  There's everything from missing limbs, to blindness, to down syndrome and everything in between.

Back in January I inquired of the little girl who we now are after.  I had seen so many emails with so many faces that I kind of forgot about her.  At the time we weren't really interested in going Armenian.  When Armenia was thrown out in the beginning of March, I had the thought to look through my emails.  During my search I saw this girl again.  I wondered how I ever passed her up in the beginning.  I went to the waiting list and she was GONE.  Nowhere to be found on the waiting list.  I went the agency's website and looked on their website, which should have for sure had her on there.  I wasn't surprised that someone swallowed her up in one bite-- she's that cute.

The thought crossed my mind to just send an email and see if she was really gone.  I knew she would be, but decided I had nothing to lose by asking.  I got an email back saying that she was still available.  I thought there had to be some kind of mistake because, like I said, she had been taken off of all waiting lists and their website.  I emailed this lady back to clarify.  I told her that she was no longer on the waiting list.  She emailed me back saying that she was not sure why she was taken off of all of the lists, but that she was available.

That's one of the reasons we thought that maybe she was waiting for US.  Why else would she happen to be missing from waiting lists?

Another coincidence?

Hold 'er

I spoke with our sweet girl's social worker today.  She informed me that the Armenian Government has been informed that there is a family interested in her.  She has been put on hold for us.  She is no longer considered "available".  The only way we could lose her at this point is if an Armenian family came forward and said that they wanted her.  She warned me of that but let me know that it seldom happens, but could.  It makes me worry.

I've said to Marc before that if this all doesn't pan out with her, it is obviously pointing us in the direction of the little sweet one we are suppose to have.  There are just too many conveniences!

Happy birthday

While reading through the policies for our agency I spotted two things that made me (once again) wonder how this was going to pan out with this little sweetheart that we have fallen in love with.

Problem 1:  There must be at least one year's difference between adoptive child and children at home. 

Problem 2:  They feel it is important to keep children in their birth order.  (meaning this has to be the youngest child.)

CRAAAAAP!!!  I found myself, yet again, with my heart sunken.  Seriously?  I emailed her and she told me that with special-needs adoptions they will sometime waive one of those two things.  That's all great and everything, but both of those would have to be waived.

I started to think about it. This little girl is 2 years old currently (a little older than Tate and a little younger than Shanley).  I could see if there was a way to magically change Tate's birthday to 2 years sooner, which I quickly concluded was not going to happen no matter how hard I tried.  The only other hope I had was to see if there is ANY chance that there happens to be a year between this sweetheart and my others.  

I thought about it.  Shanley's birthday is in June of 2010.  Tate's birthday is August of 2012.  When I looked at those dates I could see that our Armenian daughter's birthday would have to be in July of 2011.  Odds were not in our favor.  I opened up my email with the information I had received about this little girl.  I skimmed through the paperwork and came across her birthday.  I could not believe my eyes- her birthday is July 11, 2011.  

An yet again, another tender mercy.  Someone is orchestrating this whole process, which appears to be meant to be.

Christians

I used to think that picking out clothes online was hard.  I mean, what is wrong with these companies who can't figure out how to size their clothes?  Some clothes run small, some run big.  You never quite know what the color looks like in person.  What if you don't like the feel of the fabric?  I guess you could return it if you didn't like it or if it didn't fit. Yeah, sounds complicated.

Try picking out a child!  Good grief, it is some SERIOUS pressure.

I inquired about this little girl in the beginning of January.  She was a doll.  I continued looking and kind of forgot about her.  A couple weeks ago I was looking through my email and found the photos of her that were sent to me a couple months ago.  She was even cuter this time!  I showed Marc. We prayed and talked about her for a couple days.  Finally I got a text from Marcus that said he was ready to press forward with her. 

Suddenly I was in love.  I couldn't get the application in fast enough.  While working on filling out the application I got an email from her caseworker.  She asked what my religion was.  I immediately emailed back and said I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Almost instantly she emailed me back and said that I would not be approved for an Armenian adoption, which is where this sweet heart was.  My heart sunk.

I emailed her back and asked why.  She let me know that Armenia was a very Christian Country and they only adopt out to Christians.

Oh, okay.  I get it.  You have to believe in Jesus Christ to adopt from Armenia. 

Ya know what?   I can see why it would be hard to believe in Joseph Smith and The Book of Mormon, I can see why someone may have a hard time believing that we have a modern day prophet.  I can see why someone would question the power of the Priesthood.  One thing I will NEVER understand is why people say that members of the The Church of JESUS CHRIST of Latter-day Saints do not believe in Jesus Christ.  I honestly don't get it.  

Deep breath, Wendy.  At this point I am not sure if I was breathing again yet or not.  I know that at some point I started to bawl.  I have finally learned that you don't get what you want by being rude, so I emailed her back and kindly explained that there must be some sort of confusion because as members of The Church of Jesus Christ we happen to believe in Jesus Christ.   

She emailed me back and confirmed that there was no confusion, that was the way the country was and there was no way around it.  She said she had been doing this for 10 years and had been through this with several other LDS families and this was just the way it was.  I was devastated.  I felt like I had fallen in love with this little face and she was being ripped out from under me. I called their office and asked the person on the phone, she didn't know and referred me to speaking with this lady whom was already emailing me.  She was, what appeared to be, the boss.   

After giving it about 2 minutes to soak in, I had the thought to call another agency and ask them.  If they confirm it then I'll know there's nothing I can do.  I call the another agency and ask them.  They told me that they adopt out of Armenia to LDS families regularly, and that it wasn't a problem at all.  At this point I could have chosen another agency, but this is the agency that this little girl was with so to get her I HAD to use them.  The lady on the phone didn't know what to tell me.  She said that it could be an issue that their attorney has with the church.  She gave me a couple numbers that I could try and call, but really didn't have any answers for me.

I do not enjoy making phone calls.  My mom is good at stuff like this, not me.  I try not to annoy people over the phone...anywhere else is fine, just not on the phone.  At this point though, I was desperate.  I needed to get to the bottom on this!  

I dialed the phone number.  I didn't know who this dude was or how he related to adoption.  He could have been an adoptive parent for all I knew at this point.  I was expecting to leave a message, but he answered.  I start explaining to him (while in tears) that I was given his number as a shot in the dark and that I was hoping he'd know who I needed to speak with or what I should do.  I was sure that he would have no idea how to help me, but it sure felt good to let out my frustration out on someone.

He asked me what agency I was working with.  I told him.  I was hoping I wasn't dreaming when I heard him say, "I am the attorney who works with that agency.  I am LDS and I've never heard of that." 

I cannot even explain to you the comfort that I felt at this point.  I was experiencing what was one of the MANY tender mercies I had experienced throughout this whole process.  He told me he'd send out a few emails and figure it all out and get back to me.  I felt so much hope.  

When I didn't hear from him for a couple days I started to worry.  I told Marc that maybe God lined us up with this attorney so that we'd know that it must not have been right, because there was nobody better I could have spoken with.  I had done everything I could.  One thing I never doubted was that He could make it happen if it was His will.  

Why does this have to be SO hard?!  I am trying to do something good.  I am going out of my way to make my life difficult!  

If I were just a Christian this would be so much easier (insert sarcastic voice).  ANNOYING!!!  

I finally got an email from this lady at the agency, letting me know that we needed letters from my doctors.  She didn't mention anything about us being LDS, or that the attorney had contacted her.  She didn't apologize for making my week a total nightmare.  It didn't bother me though.  No apology necessary.  

We were pressing forward.  

Miracles

Some of you may already know this, but the year I graduated from high school my sister Shannon passed away.  She suffered AVM's in her head which resulted in multiple brain surgeries.  Shannon always had long, blonde hair.  When she found out that she'd be having brain surgery she was devastated about having to shave her head.  Lucky for her she had a surgeon who had become her buddy, and he told her that he'd shave where he had to and work around the rest of her hair.  This is not typical at all for a person who is undergoing major brain surgery.  After her first surgery we were gathered in Shanny's room talking about the surgery.  Shannon spoke up and (in reference to being able to keep her hair) she said, "FOCUS ON THE MIRACLE".  

Since that point our family motto has been just that, Focus On The Miracle(s).  It is engraved on her head stone, cross stitched on my mom's wall, put on shirts, it is on my rock in my front yard, and displayed many other places.  After a 2 year battle Shanny was called home, despite seeing miracle after miracle.  One would have reason to ask what the "miracle" is that we are focusing on.  She is gone.  This is the miracle:  We will see her again.  The miracle is that we have testimonies of the Gospel even after this trial.  The miracle is that she still lives.  The miracle is that our family can be together forever.  The miracle is that I have on many occasions felt her nearby and know that she is walking with my family through this life.  The miracle is that I know that she is doing more for my children from the other side of the veil than she could have ever done from this one.  

With this in mind, I'll tell you the next part of our adoption story.  I knew it was the right thing.  At this point I had already had a confirmation for myself that this was the plan for us.  Together we had sacred experiences that led us to know that this is what we were suppose to do.  I knew I needed to have faith.  I also knew that things had to fall into place just right, and that someone from the other side of the veil would have to help us make it happen.  We just needed willing hearts.

On February 9th we went to church.  The lesson in Sunday School was on Noah.  Noah had great faith.  As I listened to the lesson I couldn't help but think of how crazy Noah must have looked to everyone.  Why on earth would he build an ark in the middle of a desert, where rain was in no way expected?  Because he was asked.  That was a good enough reason for him.  He probably didn't know exactly how to build an ark, especially one that size.  I'm sure he had a lot of questions, but did what he was supposed to do anyways. 

It reminded me of myself.  Why on earth would I adopt a child, especially right now, when I can have my own?  I knew I needed to have faith.  I didn't know what the alternative results would be.  I didn't exactly know how to go about the whole process.  

As for the question that I'm certain I will get many times, I don't know if we're "done".  This doesn't necessarily mean that we won't ever have our own again.  It might though.  We'll have to keep you posted.  I read in Mosiah a couple weeks ago that "all these things are done in wisdom and order...". Whatever that means in our situation. 

The story goes on...

In Sacrament Meeting that day we had the High Counsel in our ward.  The first speaker got up and the first story he shared "happened to be" about adoption.  He told a story about a lady named Agnes, who was from Russia (if my memory serves me right, which it doesn't usually, so who knows?)  She made the choice to be adopted and leave her country.  She came to America, and had children.  One of her children had a daughter.  That daughter was this man's grandmother.  He then said that the decision that one person (Agnes) made changed the life of many generations. 

I couldn't help but believe that his talk and story was inspired and what I NEEDED to hear.  

That evening as we were getting ready for bed I saw that I had received an email from a lady named Andrea.  She worked for an adoption agency.  She said in her email that I had inquired about adoption about a year ago and that she was just checking to see where we were in the process.  As I read her email I immediately thought, "I did not email this lady a year ago about adoption."  Tate was 8 months old.  There's no way I emailed her.  I was not considering adopting 8 months ago.  She's got the wrong gal.  However, what a coincidence that she would email me TODAY.

I then read what agency she was from..."Little Miracles".  

I knew that we had been guided and that we were getting help from "someone" on the other side of the veil.  I immediately emailed her back and asked her to call me in the morning.  

As we started the conversation Monday morning, I decided that I was going to lay everything out on the table about my health.  I told her about my heart surgeries.  I then proceeded to tell her about my Epilepsy and how it has thrown up a red flag to every agency I had spoken with.  I told her I was worried that her agency would see the "E" word and run.  

Her response was, "Wendy, I think its fate that you are talking to me.  I have Epilepsy and I have also adopted.  I know what you're going through and I know there is a way around it." 

I'm not sure how someone who doesn't believe in God could explain this all to me.  There are just too many "flukes" to not believe that we are receiving help from a higher being.  There are too many "coincidences".  

Elder Bednar gave an amazing talk about Tender Mercies of the Lord.  After sharing an experience he had in his life where he also witnessed a personal tender mercy he said, "Some may count this experience as simply a nice coincidence, but I testify that the tender mercies of the Lord are real and that they do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence.  Often, the Lord's timing of His tender mercies help us to both discern and acknowledge them."

This WAS a tender mercy of the Lord.  I get goosebumps just thinking about how this all came about and the experiences I have had leading up to this point.  God is at the helm of this ship!  Thank HEAVENS!  You better believe I've got my life jacket on.

Reasons

I'm hoping that this will be read in chronological order because otherwise it may not make sense.  Just know that this is a continuation to the previous post.  As a week or two went by I kept giving reasons as to why this can't happen.  Here are just a few.

- It will be hard.  Taking in a child with disability is a "lifetime sentence".  That probably sounds really bad. Not that I couldn't love them, it just would bog us down.  Everything will be harder.  Going to the grocery store, vacations, even just finding a babysitter.  Who wants to babysit 5 kids, one of which is special needs in some way?  Uh, how about nobody.  Depending on the disability, they may never just grow up and go to college or get married.  And do I dare say the word SACRAMENT MEETING?!!!  I already leave church wanting to commit suicide!  (Okay, that was an exaggeration, but...yeah)

- Adoptions take forever.  Like 12-18 months for a child WITH disabilities.  BTW, I'm kinda bitter about this because if there are all of these "waiting children" everywhere in the world, why do they make it as hard as they do?  In fact, I've wondered if it'd be easier to part the Red Sea.  

- People will think we are crazy.  I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but I've seriously been worried about what people will say or think.  "Seriously?  Can you believe that the Wyners are crazy enough to do this?"  "They must think they are great parents to take this on!"  "They must be rollin' in the dough over there to blow their money on this."  I'm scared to even tell people.  I realize that this is pathetic because, quite frankly, its nobody's business and I shouldn't care what they think or say.

- Money.  It costs money to get a child.  Back to the whole being bitter thing, if there are all of these starving children in other countries, WHY AREN'T THEY GIVING THEM AWAY?!  It's really quite irritating.  Children aren't cheap it turns out.  I am not a big spender.  I drive a piece of crap minivan that should have broken down and died by now.  I shop at yard sales.  I get anxiety just buying anything full price.  If by chance you see me dressed in anything that may be somewhat "in-style" its because I've either purchased it from a garage sale, bought it at Ross, or it was given to me.  How will I spend this kind of money?

- My minivan.  It was a sad, sad day when Marc told me that we'd have to buy a different (note that I didn't say "NEW", just different) minivan.  The one we have won't fit 3 booster seats across the back.  Our van is what I like to call a mini-minivan.  Its just a hair smaller.  This reason is mainly a joke.  I'm not THAT attached to my van, its just that I don't want to have to spend money on a new one. (See, I'm doing it again!  Talking about making the purchase of a van is making me nervous.) Marc on the other hand, is quite happy with this reason.  Hey...maybe this is why he is pushing for adoption now.

- My other children.  It took me a while to get over this one.  I don't want them to feel neglected while their mother is out to save the world by adopting a child with disabilities.  Will they resent me?  Will they like them?  What if they don't?  Will I have enough time for them?  Will I still find time to help them with their homework and read with them?  

All of these issues have slowly been resolved.  Starting with the last one.  As I was thinking about this one day I thought, "Wait a minute!  I grew up with Zak!  I didn't feel neglected!  I didn't feel like I was less wanted or that he was more important than me!  My mom still found time to help me with my homework and listen to me read."  I'm not sure why I had that brief moment of insanity.  Not only did I not feel neglected, but I GUARANTEE I'm a better person because I am his sister.  It was a PRIVILEGE to have him as my brother.  I am a better person because he was in our family.   Not only will this not be bad for my children, but it will be GOOD for them!  Good for them to recognize that they are blessed to have healthy bodies, blessed to be able to think right,  and good for them to learn to serve. This could be the best thing that ever happens to them.

It seems like my cousin Callie posted a talk given by Russell M Nelson on facebook about five million times.  After the fifth millionth time I finally read the talk, and thank you Callie, it was EXACTLY what I needed.  In his talk he said, "Stellar Spirits are often housed in imperfect bodies.  The gift of such a body can actually strengthen a family as parents and siblings willingly build their lives around that child born with special needs."

Next, the money reason.  On further thought, I can't think of anything I'd rather spend my money on.  I will never want to spend thousands of dollars on anything.  I don't even WANT a brand new van.  I'm so happy behind the wheel of that van its not even funny.  I don't WANT a bunch of new clothes or a boat (unlike Marc).  I wouldn't spend the flippin' money anyways!  It would just sit in my bank account because, as annoying people would put it, I'm cheap.  Why NOT pay for a child?

As for it being hard.  That one hasn't changed.  Yep, it will be.  I will feel overwhelmed.  It will consume my life.  It will be hard to find someone who is "crazy" enough to babysit them all.  Sacrament meeting will be a pain in the butt.  There will be days I wonder how I'm gonna make it through the day.  It will be so hard that I cry.  There will be moments that I question why I thought I could handle it. It. Will. Be. Hard.  

A couple weeks ago in sacrament meeting we were singing the opening hymn.  It was Lord I Would Follow Thee.  This song has always been a favorite of mine.  I love it.  When I started singing it this time though, something stood out to me that I've NEVER really paid attention to.  The first verse says :                    
                  Savior may I learn to love thee, 

                  walk the path that thou hast shown.

                  Pause to help and lift another, 

                  FINDING STRENGTH BEYOND MY OWN

                  Savior may I learn to love thee,

                  Lord, I would follow thee.

It hit me.  The truth is I can't do it-that's the bottom line.  I can't do it ON MY OWN!  The Lord will have to help me.  I will have to find strength beyond my own to do it.  And I will.  

After this eye-opening experience you'd think that I was set.  I still have my moments of questions, but it just keeps coming back to this song.   

The prayer.

There are those who may be asking how this all came about.  I mean, I did mention that this is something I have always wanted to do, or at least for a long time.  But why all of sudden?  Why now?  Why not wait until your children are grown?  Why do it if you can have your own children?  ALL VALID QUESTIONS, most of which we don't know the answer to.  If we figure it out we'll let you know.  Until then, just know that it is because its what the Lord has asked from us.

I can, however, tell you what has happened over the past few months...

Just before Thanksgiving I brought home my Uncle Gene's scrapbook that my mom has.  I read some of the articles that were written about my Uncle Gene to Marc that were put in the Salt Lake Tribune.  As I read them to Marc I literally started bawling.  Just to get it on the record, I'm really not much of a bawler.  I don't know what happened this night, but the Hoover Dam broke and there was no holding it back.  I thought about Uncle Gene and my Grandpa Wheadon.

Without going into much detail, they were honest, humble men who didn't care about fame or money.  They were hard-workers who earned every penny they had.  There's no amount of money you could have offered them to give up their property and their lifestyle.  They didn't care about looking good or owning worldly possessions.  You could not have impressed them with anything you owned.  My family will refer to people like them as people who "get it".  They "got" life.  People like them are few and far between.

I recognized more than ever the legacy that they left and what I have to live up to.  When I finally made it to the end of the article I said to Marc, "We are so lame." Marc didn't correct me, I'm not sure at this point if he didn't correct me because of my emotional state, or if he agreed.  After a brief moment of silence I followed it up with, "If someone were to write an article about us there would be NOTHING to say. We are SO lame."

At that moment I KNEW that I wanted to do something that eventually my grandchildren could look up to.  I wanted to do something that would put an impact on my children and make THEM want to be better.  I wanted to make a difference more than I ever have before.

Now might be the time to interject with the fact that we are in no way doing this for praise or fame.  I am not looking for The Salt Lake Tribune to drop by my house to write an article.  (Although I realize that this story may appear that way, that's not the case.)

The experience I had has been on my mind since then.  In December I was sitting with my computer and had the thought to look at the "waiting children" list that is online.  I scanned and scanned through the many pictures of children in need of a home.  While I realize I couldn't change all of their lives, I could try to change one.  Since then I've been bugging Marc about it. Marc kinda blew me off, letting me chat about it, but never being real serious.

 I have never been the type to share extremely spiritual experiences I have unless I feel prompted to do so.  I am of the opinion that sometimes spiritual experiences are often too sacred to share.  With that in mind, please understand that this is just the synopsis of what happened.  We do not feel that sharing the entire experience would be appropriate.

In January Marc and I were having our prayers before climbing into bed.  That night Marc figured it out- it was time.  Pregnancy wasn't in the cards for me.  At least not for now.  As he put it, "The next child who comes into this family will be adopted."

He shared his experience with me.  That's when I thought, "Oh NOOO!!  Maybe we shouldn't".  I was quickly backing out.  What was I thinking?  Why would we adopt a child when we can have our own?  There's no way! I thought there was a chance Marc was just nervous after my last pregnancy issues.  "Coincidentally" enough I had an appointment with my neurologist 3 weeks from then.  I assured Marc that he'd feel differently once I get the A-OK from my neurologist for another pregnancy.

To make it brief, my doctor gave me the go-ahead.  With much excitement I called Marc and presented to him the  "good news".  Somehow he didn't seem as excited as I did.  His voice didn't show any emotion.  He said, "Wendy, even as you said that to me I had the gut feeling that said, nope, that's not what we are suppose to do."

I spent the next couple weeks praying for him.  I knew if we kept praying and going to the temple that he'd figure it out.  This was all my fault!  I put this crazy idea in his head and now he's stuck on it.  What am I going to do?  I can't do this!  Adopting a child with disabilities will be hard.  TOO hard.  It will consume my life.  I don't even feel like I do a good enough job with the four I already have.  I changed my mind.

Disabilities

I had to have been 6 or 7 before I knew that He wasn't right.  I just thought that's how every little brother was.  He had us all wrapped around his finger.  He was the cutest little boy around!

We were blessed to have an angel as a member of our family.  Zak has always been the light of our home.  Everything has always (still does) revolved around him.  Holidays, birthdays, vacations, etc.  I like to think that Zak and I have always had a special bond.  We shared a room together for years.  He was my baby, my "Bople".  He and I were two years apart so we had one year in middle school together, and one year in high school.  I peer tutored his class as many periods as I could.  I was literally a peer tutor for 4 periods in my senior year of high school.

Zak has taught me many things.  Patience, love, tolerance, and compassion, just to name a few.  He has done the same thing for all the members of my family.  (As a side note, when I use the term "all of my family" it usually indicates ALL of my family, as in my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents.)  While he may not be able to read or write, he may (actually there is no MAY about it) be the world's biggest stinker and aggressive at times, he may tease my children relentlessly by taking their toys from them and saying things that will bug them, and though he will never grow up and get married or have children, he has taught every single member or my family more than he could have ever taught us if he were "normal".

Because of Zak I grew an extremely large soft spot for people with disabilities.  In fact, I'd rather be around a "handicapped" person than most "normal" people.  And that's the honest truth.  I worked at a facility for people with severe mental disabilities for years.  I grew a love for them that can't be found in most places.  I read a thing on Pinterest that was actually a picture of a bill board of sorts, that said "You haven't really lived until you've done something for someone who can never repay you."  I loved that!  Because it's true!

When I spoke with adoption agencies I was informed that, because of my health, I only qualified for a "special needs" child.  As I examine my life I realize that I was raised in a home and with a family that has put me in a position where a disability is in my comfort zone.  Zak has helped me to prepare for my own child.  See?  Another thing he has done for me.

"Disability is the inability to see ability" 

The "E" word

Most of you know that I have not had an extremely healthy body.  This really complicates things when it comes to adoption.  Turns out they want HEALTHY people to adopt children, who knew?  Just a brief history:

When I was 8 years old I had been taken into the Emergency Room for an asthma attack.  My blood pressure was through the roof.  When the doctor came in to assess the situation he started checking my pulse.  My mom said that when she watched him feel the pulse in my wrist and then reach to feel the pulse in my feet to compare the two, she knew.  She knew what he was going to say.

The doctor said to my mom, "Have you ever heard of a Coarctation of the Aorta?"  I'm not sure what my mom's response was exactly, but I believe it must have been something like, "Funny you should ask, my son just had one repaired."

I had it repaired twice when I was eight.  They have more luck of repairing it when it is found as a baby.  After the second try they decided that they'd do another surgery when I was fourteen, when I would be more grown.  At fourteen they decided to put in an entire new Aortic Valve.  I now have two Aorta's.  Bet you don't know anyone else who does!!  Pretty sad that this is my claim to fame.  I'm lame, what can I say?

I have recovered like a champ and I'm as good as new.  When I started looking into agencies I was worried that they'd see this heart issue and run.  Imagine my surprise when I figured out that apparently they don't care if your heart beats, but your brain has to function right.  That leads us to the next problem-

EPILEPSY.

When I was first married it took me over a year to get pregnant.  When I did I was delighted!  Everything seemed perfect until I woke up one morning in an ambulance.  While being unloaded on a gurney from the ambulance I was informed that I had suffered a seizure in my sleep.  A what?!  I don't have seizures.  That's weird.  I saw from a distance Marc, my parents and a few other people from my family (people do NOT understand our support system) waiting for me, waiving.

After a sleep deprived test it was found that I have epilepsy.  Once again, who knew?

I have spoken with several agencies that say that the heart is not the problem, it is the epilepsy that throws up the red flag.  Marcus really wanted to aim for a healthy child.  I kept telling him that there are PLENTY of people out there willing to adopt young, healthy children.  I'm doing this so that I can help a child who possibly would not have been adopted otherwise!  There is a 3-4 year wait for a healthy child.  We have been informed that we only qualify for a child on "The Waiting List", AKA children who have a hard time being placed in a home.

On a serious note, I just wanted to mention that am I in NO way complaining about these health problems.  I actually forget I even have a "problem", really.  Now would be the time to insert a motto that I've heard many times in my family: These are not PROBLEMS, just minor INCONVENIENCES.  I feel so blessed to live in a time where I can get medical help!   As I look around at other peoples' problems, I realize I really don't have any.

Revolving Doors

If you are reading this, you have probably now found out that Marcus and I have decided that the time is now right to add another Wyner to the group.  Poor child, adopted by a couple of crazies like us AND have to take on the last name "Wyner".  Kinda reaks. I guess it beats an orphanage.  

I decided to start this blog in hopes of not only answering some of the questions that are to follow, but also to share this entire experience with anyone interested.  I LOVE reading adoption blogs.  If you chose to put up with my sarcasm and poor grammar, you're welcome to follow us as we step out into the dark and do this! 

This is a journey that I've been bound to take for years.  I blame it on my mom and dad.  Why, you ask?  Because growing up my mom and dad have ALWAYS made their home a home to anyone in need. When I was in Elementary my parent's took in a baby (Kaylie) in hopes to adopt her.  After having our hearts ripped out when they gave her back to her mother (who was patiently waiting for her in prison) we decided that wasn't painful enough, so we decided to give fostering a try.  We had hopes to adopt.  That didn't happen either.  

Aside from all of the foster children my parent's took in, my parent's also helped raise my two cousins (who are actually what I consider sisters).  On top of that, we had several other people (including a family of six-yes, SIX) stay for periods of time.  Our home always had an open-door policy.

My mom has a decoration in her front room that says "WARD'S- Always Room For One More".  

In 1998 (I wrote it down in my journal) I watched a special program on TV called "Hearts and Hands" about a group of people who went to Ethiopia and helped orphan children there.  Since that time, I have literally ALWAYS had the idea of adopting an orphan on my mind.  Point being, this was not just something I drummed up all of a sudden.  I know that Heavenly Father planted this seed in my head years and years ago, and KNOW that this is part of the plan that he has for our family. 

So like I said, totally my parent's fault.  They taught me by example the blessings of service and compassion.  They taught me that "OUR" home was actually a blessing from God and it was HIS to share.  And that is what they did and continue to do.