Couldn't YOU give me something else to do?

"I just do not think YOU have the right girl."

This is what I was thinking yesterday...oh let's say around 9 a.m.

Adam's oral surgery was scheduled for 6 a.m. at UMC- Jackson.

No problem, Jackson is an hour and a half away..we get up at 3, dress Adam and Rebekah- leave by 4- get there at 5:30 and have 30 minutes to spare.
Caleb keeps the older kids for the day and we are all good.
Perfect Plan..unless your husband hears the alarm , turns it off, goes back to sleep and wakes up again at 5:15 a.m...then , not so much.

Stacy calls U*M*C- they say "come on anyway and we'll work him in"...One of the perks of being "Dr. ?" when you have to make such calls.

We wake the kids, get loaded up, and we are off.

We get to U*M*C and I drop off Stacy and Adam.
Rebekah and I are hungry and I have not had coffee, so we leave them to get checked in .

Rebekah is crying and angry(so I think) because she cannot get out with Adam.
I listen to her wail for about 3 blocks ,until we pull into the Crack*r Barr*ll parking lot.

I turn off the car and turn to look at Rebekah.
"We are here", I say..right before Rebekah does her best EX0RCIST impression and proceeds to throw up all over the backseat, the floor, her car seat, and herself- before I can get out and get around to the back of the car to get to her.

We were in such a rush this morning that I had neglected to pack extra clothes for her and she was soaked and smelled pretty dang rank......I might add.

I took a box of wipes , took off all of her clothes and her NOW nasty shoes, and wiped her down from head to toe.

I take of my zipped hoodie and wrap her in it, cover her head with the hood, and go into Crack*r Barr*ll- where the welcome was " Good Morning! Welcome to..Oh My Goodness What Happened?"

As I explained the events of the last ten minutes, the employee helped us find a cute little outfit in a size 3 for our little wet ,smelly, princess.

We go to the bathroom and I clean Rebekah off( a little more) and dress her.

Rebekah was still saying that she was hungry , so we asked for a table.
My breakfast(and coffee, PTL) came and Rebekah took my plate (hers didn't look as good)and cleaned it off.

While she was eating, I called my husband and told him what was going on.
We agreed that I would go to Target, buy Rebekah some warmer clothes(Crack*r Barr*ll had only the spring clothes available),some shoes,something to clean the car seats and carpet with , some Febreeze, gas up, buy him some breakfast, and come to the hospital.
Adam should be in surgery by then and we could wait together.

So I do all of the above.
Car now smells like vomit and Febreeze... Nasty!..but It Looks Good.
Rebekah smells Good(thank you , Huggi*s Wipes) and Looks Good.
Car is gassed up and I have food for Stacy-so we are good.

I get back to the hospital and Adam has been in surgery for an hour...then 2 hours...then 2 and a half hours.

Rebekah is ill because she isn't at home and still feels pretty lousy.
Stacy is working hard to keep her occupied so that the other people in the waiting room will give us a break and NOT call security.

Finally ,the surgeon comes out to explain the hold up.
Adam has a very small mouth and his teeth are very tight.
They are dark and weak from the meds before his heart surgery and probably after his heart surgery..but even with that..he only had 5 cavities.
They capped his back teeth so that he doesn't have to go through this again and his front teeth had caps placed on the back to take care of the cavity between them and to make them stronger until they fall out...WHEW!
A lot of work for such a little man.

After the morphine started to wear off..Adam made it clear to the nurses that he was not happy- so they came to find me.
His face was swollen from the trauma, his jaw was swollen from the spacers, his lips were covered with blood and cracked, but he smiled as much as he could.

I sat there rocking him thinking about the days trials and I thought to myself "God...Really?
You have really put it on our hearts to bring home more children?!?! I am getting old, and I am getting tired,and these two aren't even potty trained yet, and we just got the last two adoptions paid off- with interest(thanks Ameri*n Expr*ss)bringing home two at a time will double what we spent last time, 2 more weeks away from our 7 other children..are you sure this is what you want us to do?"
I listened....
The only thing I heard was Adam's monitors beeping and a few other children crying in Post-op.

We move to a room and Adam comes around, has no problems, we are discharged ,and we are on our way home.

We stop at a drive-thru for a bite and as we are pulling out of BackY*ard Burg*ers, I look at Stacy and say"What a day, huh?"
Stacy laughs and says, "WooHoo!", smiles and kisses my hand. Totally un-phased.

On the drive back I think about our next adoption: the pros, the cons, the ins, the outs, the highs , and the lows.
I decide that I really need a sign...
It doesn't have to be a BILLBOARD..a small one will do...just something so that I will know that this is still what God has planned for our family and that we aren't screwing up BIG TIME.

A few hours later, we are pulling in the drive and Stacy stops to check the mail.
There is a bright mint green letter from Immigration.

"This is to inform you that you have been received , processed, and forwarded to......"

It was our I800 confirmation receipt letter.
It was in our mailbox 9 days after they received our application...2 of those days was a weekend

Anyone who knows the inner workings of our Immigration System will tell you that THIS IS A SIGN.............

Now instead of feeling anxious, I feel relieved.....and still a little old.