The director gave me Zoe’s photo from her file today.  Yea for that!  It looks like it was from when she was 1 or 2…I’m so grateful to have this photo for Zoya to look at later.

We were at the bank for at least an hour before everything was said and done.  THEN, we went to one of the Tax Offices of the government to try and get Zoe’s social security number.   I don’t know if it has to be changed…or maybe the information associated with it has to be changed, since her birth certificate has changed.   I just know that before we get the passport, we have to have the SS#.

Getting a SS# can take anywhere from 10 minutes up to 10 days, it depends on which office does the processing – sounds Ukrainian to me!   We went to the Tax Office we thought we had to go to, but they sent us to another Tax Office – one that is only open on Tuesdays and Thursdays (again, Ukrainian), so we will go tomorrow and hope they process the SS# number fast.

Either way,  I plan on springing Zoe tomorrow – Happy Thanksgiving to us!!!  I visited the orphanage tonight with our friend Eugene, who is a great interpreter, and told them that I would take her tomorrow so that they would have a night to say any good-byes.  They are fond of her.  I thanked them for all of their work and told them how grateful I was that Zoya had been in a place with such great care.  There seems to be no exact right time when to culture-shock a child…and no perfect time for good-byes.

Every step in this road is different, challenging, unique and beautiful.  But this next step might prove to be the most different, challenging, unique and beautiful of them all – freedom for one child who might have otherwise spent every living day inside a fenced-in property, who might have never have shared popcorn out of a bowl while kicking back on the couch to watch a movie, who might never have built a snowman or gazed at the lights of Christmas tree after Christmas tree in each glowing window – freedom for a person who might never have had a mom on which to lean, a dad with whom to wrestle or siblings with whom to grow-up and share endless adventures.

After arriving, I told Forrest about our conversation and he said that many people here think that way.  It must be hard for our cultures to understand one another when the lenses through which we are viewing things, as Forrest mentioned, are so different.

Ministry apartment main room

Very homey kitchen. Love it!

I arrived to a welcome basket full of goodies! Soooo nice!!!! And there was a "your bag has been searched" from the TSA in my suitcase. I wonder what they thought of the 3 lbs. of sweet potatoes I packed for Thanksgiving. :)

My roommate in the ministry apartment is Helen, a 24-year-old angel.  We sat down tonight over tea and talked about marriage, hopes, friendships, fashion and worship.   What a nice ending to a long day of driving…and not seeing Zoya.

Sasha and Violeta picked me up at 10am today and we drove straight to Zoe’s hometown to get a new birth certificate made.  Robizhnaya is about 1-1/2 hours from Lugansk and the drive is quite beautiful.  The countryside reminds me somewhat of up-state New York and somewhat of Missouri.  There are low-rolling hills covered in fields where, in season, sunflowers, watermelon and other crops are grown.  These are intermingled with large pine-tree forests where currently mushrooms are being harvested by the bucket-load and sold along the roadside by babushkas and other folks.   This explains the mushroom-flavored everything!

We presented our papers to the head of the social organization in Robizhnaya.  She made no expression with her face and told us to come back in 2 hours to have the birth certificate made.  So, the three of us headed to a cafe to pass time.  I ordered fried potatoes, blinis (I love these things) and cappuccino, which I missed while in the US.  I was completely puzzled when, at the end of our meal, Sasha paid for all of us.    And I’m still puzzled by that…hmmmm.  Is he nice?  Is he breaking laws of professionalism?   Is he going to charge me more later?  I can’t figure it.

Sasha's man-purse. Very practical.

The trip was successful and I now have in hand a birth certificate that states Marc and I as the parents of Zoe June Imboden!  In Ukrainian.

It makes one ponder the whole idea of “rebirth”.  We aren’t just grabbing up some random girl from an orphanage half-way to China.  We’re making it so that her official documents read that she was born on November 15, 2006 to us – to Marc and Amy Imboden on 645 W. Noble St. It also has today’s date on it as to when the certificate was made. And it states her new name was her name at birth.  She has, in a way, been re-born.

I love thinking of this idea in relation to God, who gives us a sort of do-over re-birth thing.  The old has gone and the new has come.

We didn’t get home in time for me to make a trip out to the orphanage, but we will go there tomorrow.  Now that I have the court paper, I can take Zoe whenever I want!  I feel that it would be a good idea to give her a heads up, like “this is your last night here” or something, and to give the workers a chance to say their good-byes.  Goodness, if I had a hand in raising one of those beautiful children, I would want a chance to say “good-bye, I love you, take care, etc.”  But that’s just me.  And, Zoe is not in one of the “bad” orphanages.  If I were a first-time mom, I think I would whisk her out immediately.  But, wisdom over passion says that maybe it would be best for her to start her new life on a full night’s sleep.  I wish Marc were here to help me decide.

I stayed up almost all night again packing. I did my Wal-mart run at 4am and I’m glad I went!  I don’t know how people pack to stay the entire time – it requires so much thinking! This time, I had to pack clothes for Zoe and everything else. I packed leggins and baby doll-style tops since I don’t know her exact size and those items are very flexible. I also packed tights and undershirts for layering, a new winter coat (a gift from a friend), mittens, a hat, a scarf, pull-ups, wipes, panties, sippy cups, a hand-made blankie (thanks Mom Ro!), a plush bunny, play dough, crayons, washable markers, paper, sticker books, lift-the-flap books, a portable DVD player (rented from Papa), DVDs, childrens’ Tylenol and Benadryll, a travel potty seat, cute winter boots (from Gigi) and an umbrella stroller. Whew! My plan on the way home is to have the stroller and only ONE carry-on with me in the airport.  If I have to pay extra to check an extra bag so I don’t have to lug it, it will be money well-spent!

I sprang some cash for a pair of compression socks in Frankfurt. They were expensive at the airport, but they feel sooo good!  After these long travel days, my ankles end up completely swollen, like when I was pregnant.   I can’t wait to be all “grandma” and pull our my new socks for every long trip.

I forgot to mention that I almost did not even make this long trip!   The United counter-helper-person said that they couldn’t let me on the plane until I could prove that I would NOT be staying in Ukraine more than 90 days.  I booked a one-way flight this time from Indy to Kiev, but she wanted proof of a return flight!  I lamented for about 10 seconds before springing into “just-tell-me-exactly-what-I-need-to-do-and-fast” mode.   I have since talked to other traveling adoptive parents and no one has had this happen to them, but I did what I had to do.  I called Lufthansa immediately and booked a super-expensive ($3000), but fully refundable one-way ticket back to Indy from Kiev.  The Lufthansa lady asked, “What day will you be traveling?”  “I don’t care,” I answered, “how about next week sometime.”   “Would you like a window seat or an aisle seat?”  I want whatever seat is fully refundable and will get me off the phone quickly, I thought.  “Uh, aisle,” I muttered.  “Do you have any meal preference?,” she asked slothily.  “No.  No preference.” Ergh!

I did finally get checked in.  With a HUGE hug and kiss from Nash, I was off…and in plenty of time.

The Lufthansa flight on the way over did not have the “any-movie-you-can-dream” personal screens of which I’ve been dreaming.  Ah, disappointment. The service and food were still excellent, though.  Top notch.

Off to Lugansk to meet Forrest at the airport! Hooray!     You can read another post from this day at Raising Imbodens – here.

your lawn furniture.

I can’t hear the click of your heels or the shuffle in your step.

I can’t see what you are buying, how you are paying or

the car you drive.

I can’t compare what I have to what you don’t

or what you have that I never will.

I can’t tell if you are kind or unable to be kind

or if you are trying really hard to change.

It’s all just one big Lite-Brite from up here.

No boundaries, no categories, just an immense black canvas stretched from ocean to ocean with a twinkling pattern of human commonalities and a resounding desire for things to be on earth as they are from this view.