February 25, 2001 - We're up in the air on our way to Karaganda. Leaving today was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. How could I say goodbye to Faith (my older daughter, age 8)? It was so painful to have to say goodbye. I tried to be strong as she drove away with my mom to go see a movie, but after she left I couldn't stop crying. What if something happens to us? What if the plane crashes or something? What was I thinking when I started all this? How could I leave her? I know my parents will take good care of her, but it's just not the same. There is so much that scares me. I'm scared of taking all this money with us. Lord, I've never held this much money in my whole life!!! We're going to be in a foreign country with nine thousand dollars on us. Won't everyone know that if Americans are in Kazakhstan that we're carrying a large amount of cash? What happens if we get robbed? Some things are going right. When we got to the airport they were able to check our luggage all the way to Karaganda, which means we won't have to deal with it in Moscow. But what if it never makes it to Karaganda? Just one more thing for me to stress over. Another good thing - we didn't have to pay overage charges to get the bag of donations there. Yea, Lufthansa! Here's another worry. Steve at VIP travel has assured us we do not need a Russian transit visa to change planes in Moscow, but I really think he's wrong. Yes, we made it on the plane, but what's going to happen to us when we get to Moscow? Ken is not nearly as worried as I am. I wish I could be as calm about this as he is. These plane seats are terrible. I don't know how we'll survive all that way in these little bitty seats. There is NO legroom. Well, when they say economy class they mean "we're going to cram you into a seat with no legroom and you'll be squashed for your entire flight." There is NO WAY I'm going to be able to sleep. Part of me wants to because we're just going to be flying forever, but another part of me wants to experience every bit of everything. I want to remember this for our little Sarah Galia and also for Faith. This is just as much her adventure, even if she doesn't get to go. Well - that was the end of February 25. I'll put the February 26th "Year Ago Today" in a different post.

February 26, 2001 -- We land in Frankfurt in the early a.m.-about 9:00. As we zip along to make our connection , I see people at the bars drinking! Well, it's a different world. The flight from Frankfurt to Moscow was wretched. We were in the last row against the rear bulkhead, so we couldn't lean back at all. Every seat was taken. We were smushed! When we land in Moscow we hit the biggest road bump in our personal journey. Without the Russian visas that Steve at VIP Travel Services assured us we didn't need, we are up a big ol' creek. We need to change terminals, and we cannot do that without a visa. We are severely reprimanded in Russian (who knows what they said), and taken to the Lufthansa transit office. They take away our Karaganda tickets and passports, but will return them after they escort us to the other terminal shortly before our departure time. Well, that means that the driver that was supposed to meet us can't find us. I try to reach our Russian facilitator, but to no avail. I wander around and no one can really even help us. I pay $3.00 for a coke to get some rubles in change, but they pay me back in dollars. They don't have any rubles. The exchange desk won't change my money either. What is the shining good point in al of this? We saved a bunch of money. We also met a very nice man who lives half the time in London and half the time in Almaty. He's pleasant and offers to help us in Almaty if we run into trouble. At about 10:00 pm, they take us in a little bus to the other terminal. Wow! The snow is EVERYWHERE! I've never seen so much snow. I wonder about if the plane can even take off. What if there's ice on the wings. Ken reminds me that they live with this snow. They know how to take off and land in it. Finally, at 10:30 pm, we board the plane for Karaganda. Sarah, here we come!

February 27, 2001 -- The plane ride to Karaganda is interesting. We end up sitting next to a woman who is a foster parent. She escorts adopted children to their families. She's on her way home from escorting a little girl to Moscow to be reunited with her mother from Canada. That little girl was from Malutka, too!! Another man on the plane kept talking to us even though he didn't speak a word of English and we don't speak a word of Russian. He drank vodka like water-all at 5:30 a.m.!!! He kept filling up the airplane cups (the kind that hold 6 or 8 oz). I saw him FILL that up with vodka two times and gulp it all down. He was already drunk before he boarded the plane....so Ken and I later joked about the man being "Boris Yeltzen drunk." When we landed in Astana, most people got off. Not the foster mom or our Mr. Inebriated. There was snow and ice everywhere, including the runway. The plane skidded a little which scared me, but all the Russians and Kazakhs seemed calm. The wind was blowing snow everywhere. It was pretty unnerving. The airport people de-ice the plane after a short stop, then we're off again. The flight to Karaganda from Astana is short-about 30 - 45 minutes. It's sort of like when I would fly from Houston to Austin-up then down. When we land in Karaganda there is lots of ice and snow. We wait in Passport Control and then in customs. The airport is not heated! Our baggage is there (thank God) and safe. It's battered, but all intact. Our facilitators are there (will remain unnamed) with our translator, Igor. As we meet them, the lights in the airport are turned off. We scrunch into two cars and drive off into the dark Karaganda morning (it's about 6:45 a.m.). I have never seen so much snow! They drive like it's nothing, passing each other with the snow swirling every which way. There's ice on the roads and piles of snow on either side of the road well over six feet in some places. Karaganda is flat. As we look out over fields of ice and snow, I see fields with small buildings that I would not expect people to live in. There is NO WAY they could live here in the winter. I'll have to check it out. There are also large pipes everywhere that I am told is for water. Karaganda has large, low-rise (five or six story) buildings, which were built by the Soviets. Most of them look very industrial, even the apartments. I cannot accurately describe it but my first impression is...it looks like parts of Mexico City with ICE and SNOW. The Hotel Karaganda is nice enough. Our facilitator pays for our first night, as we have no tenge. We have a third-floor "apartment" across from room 350 (our room doesn't have a number on it). The key is very difficult to operate. I fear I will never be able to open it myself. Our "apartment" is a short hallway, a bathroom and bedroom. The bedroom has a small refrigerator in it. It's bigger than a mini-bar fridge, but not full size. The bed is wooden frame with a piece of foam on top. The foam is about two inches thick. There is one pillow (think bag-o-rags). Boy, howdy, this will be some kind of comfortable. Our facilitators have bought an electric teapot, some water and some apples for us. We will rest and meet down in the lobby between noon and one to go meet Sarah Galia. I should sleep, but I don't think I can. In just a few short hours, I will meet my new daughter. I didn't think this day would ever come.

February 27, 2001, evening -- When our facilitators picked us up, we went to eat, to send e-mails, and then onto Malutka. We wanted to go straight there, but were told that Sarah would be sleeping. Aaaaahhhh! More waiting! We went to the Ankara restaurant. It's pretty good. A Turkish restaurant featuring "American fast food." It's very clean and modern. We get hamburgers. The buns are wonderful, but the meat tastes like school hamburgers. There is NO MUSTARD! Why, oh why didn't I bring some? All they've got is mayo, ketchup and pickles. Good french fries, which they call free potatoes. Warm Coke. The internet place we go to is actually a business. I think it's an ISP office in Karaganda. The shift key on the left sticks, so typing is difficult, but I dash off a quick, "We're here and safe." Now it's off to Malutka. When we get to Malutka, Galia (Sarah) is still sleeping. At 3:20 they bring us a very sleepy little girl. I think they awakened her to meet us. She is so beautiful, but TINY. They've dressed her in a light pink dress, white tights and bright pink shoes. The dress is much too small-my guess is that it's a 24 month size, but I can tell they want her to look pretty. You should see the bows!!! They're as big as her whole head-and she's got not one but two poufs! She's very shy but takes the teddy bear we've brought her from Faith, some pictures of our life in Texas, and Cheerios. She really likes Cheerios. After eating some of those she seemed thirsty so we gave her a sip of a bottled Coke we had in the backpack. When we see the Malutka ladies looking at us with displeasure, we put the Coke away. Oh well, there's plenty of time for Coke back in the U.S. They also don't want her to have too many Cheerios because they say it will spoil her meal. Well, I think she could use a few extra calories, but I smile and put the Cheerios away, too. At 4:00 she goes down for a snack and we can go, too. All of her groupa sits at little toddler sized tables. They are each served a toddler type of cookie, two banana chunks and a cup of hot tea. The children eat, hand the ladies their dishes and immediately go to the toilet. After snack we take Sarah back up to the play room to spend more time together. At 6:00 sharp it's time to go until tomorrow. We should bring some slippers with us then to wear indoors. We may visit from ten to twelve and from four to six. We are WAY too tired to go anywhere to eat so our facilitators tell Igor to pick us up a pizza and bring it to our room.....Don't ever eat pizza from the Hotel Karaganda! It's not edible. There are strange things on top of it. Neither Ken nor I can identify what's on this thing. There are unidentifiable cheeses, unknown veggies and other things we are uncertain about. Two personal size pizzas were about $4.00. We chunk the one that we ate part of and give the other one to the maid. After eating an apple, some pretzels left over from the plane ride, some good ol' U.S. peanut butter and some water it's time to crash. Well, it's 8:00 and we've essentially been without much sleep for about 48 hours.....I think....right now I'm just too tired to even add. I miss Faith so much that I think I will cry for days. I can't stop thinking of her back in Texas. It's Tuesday morning there. She's beginning her school day without me to give her sweet face a kiss. How will she make it? How will I make it? Will Sarah learn to love us? Will we be the wonderful family for which I have hoped and prayed so hard? I must trust God to make it happen. He's brought us this far. He can do anything. It's with tears that I close this book. I don't know whether I'm crying because I miss Faith so much, or exhaustion, or relief that we're here or joy that I've met my Sarah or maybe some of each. Tomorrow I can think clearer. Maybe I just need to sleep.

February 28, 2001 -- It's late in the evening. When I read over my journal for the last few days, it makes me cry. I miss my Faith and my home. I miss my parents and friends. I even miss work. It also makes me realize how difficult it will be on Sarah Galia to leave all she has known to go with us. I must remember my feelings now if she gets sad and depressed. But I'll back up to the morning. We met the Malutka director, Rose this morning and gave her the duffle bag of donations. Although she says they have all they need, she seems very pleased to get all the medical supplies. They have a great deal of pride, and don't want anyone to think they're needy. They do so much with so little. I don't think they're needy; I think they're awesome. Oh, I've never described Malutka. The building is newer than I expected. It's SOOO CLEAN. I only wish my house at home was this spic-n-span. It's a two story building. I haven't seen any babies other than the one another American couple living in NY are adopting. I've seen two groupas...no, three. Each groupa has about 12 children in it. All the children know we are Galia's mama and papa. They all want mamas and papas, too. They hug us and hang on us, just wanting to be taken home. It breaks my heart to see all these wonderful children without moms and dads. They are so beautiful and full of life. It's sad but the Russian looking children are usually chosen first. Personally, I think the Kazakh children are the prettiest children in the world. Today Sarah Galia has on jeans and a turtleneck. Of course she still has on the required t-shirt under the turtle and tights under the jeans. The turtle is a size 12 months. I"ve got to get some french fries in this girl as soon as we get home! A three-and-a-half-year- old should not wear a size 12 month! True, it's a bit small, but I think a 2 T would be too big. She's so tiny. The jeans look like a 2 T and the shoes are a 6. Today we brought in an Aladdin touch and see storybook that we brought from home. Sarah wasn't too sure what to do with it, but caught on right away. At 12 we went to the Ankara to get lunch and then to the central market to buy stuff like houseslippers for Ken, a tapeplayer, and hangers. One thing REALLY bothered me. Our facilitator told us to say we had met Sarah Galia while here-that we didn't have a picture of her before we got here. I'm just going to try and avoid the question. I don't want to lie, and I know Los Ninos wouldn't want me to either. I'll have to remember to tell them about this. I can't get too stressed about it though. God brought us this far; he'll get us home with Sarah, too. When we go back at four, I get to see where Galia sleeps. The beds are size and low to the ground-about a foot and a half off the floor. Sarah Galia has bed number 11. She lets me help her get dressed and looks excited to see us. Yea!!! She still won't talk. She'll say people's names in a whisper, but I've heard no sound out of her mouth. I don't know whether to be worried or not. Snack today is a roll, two banana chunks and hot tea. Our visit was nice today. As day two comes to a close, I already feel we are falling into a routine. After Malutka we go to a fairly large food market. It's sort of like a farmers market but for all foods. You pay each vendor separately. We buy three kinds of bread for a dollar, instant coffee, some cooked noodles, cooked chicken, and of course WATER. After we drop off our food, our facilitators take us to a very nice restaurant. The best part was the soup-it was sort of like a Russian tortellini. I must find out what it is. We also drink vodka. I've never had a vodka shot before. Whoa. It really packs a punch. I was uncertain at first, but the vodka here is much smoother than what you usually use in American drinks. Very tired. Too much vodka (although two shots doesn't sound like too much). Must go to bed.

March 1, 2001 -- Today was probably a typical Malutka day. We ate breakfast in our hotel room- flat bread with some butter on it (the bread is similar to a Boboli back home-very yummy), swiss cheese (they called it "cheese with holes"), instant coffee and an apple. We don't want to eat out every meal. We meet downstairs at 9:30 and take a taxi to Malutka. The taxi ride was $250 tenge, about $1.80 USD. Upon arrival at Malutka, we remove our shoes and put on slippers right away. They are very serious about those slippers-socks will not do. We also must very quickly take off the hat, coat, scarf, mittens, and heavy sweater. As frigid as it is outdoors, it is sweltering in the building. We then take our stuff upstairs to the visiting room. Then it's back downstairs to get Sarah Galia. She is already up and dressed. She still won't really smile at us, but knows we're here for her. It's weird how she won't smile, but we can tell she's happy to see us. The other children all say, "Galia's Mama and Papa." They all want Mamas and Papas to take them to America and Canada very much. They are all soooo precious. If I could, I'd take about four or five home with us. There are two little boys that especially tug at my heart. I imagine they'll haunt me for a long, long time. They want us to pick them up, but Sarah doesn't want us to do that! She takes us by the hand and leads us upstairs to the playroom. Today we brought in a Clifford puzzle for ages 3-5. Even though she is three, it is WAY too hard for her to do by herself, but with my very active assistance she enjoys doing it again....and again....and again. Typical toddler. We also brought a Happy Meal toy of a dinosaur that comes apart into three pieces. She loves this and can put it together. She needs her new Papa to take it apart because she doesn't have the physical strength in her grip to pull it apart. Another thing we'll work on when we get back home. We play under the many watchful eyes of the Malutka ladies. Marina is my favorite so far. At noon we take Sarah back downstairs for her lunch and nap. Then a GREAT thing happened. She gave me a kiss!!!! That is one kiss I'll never forget. I smiled the entire time I put back on my boots, hat, coat, scarf, mittens, and heavy sweater. Back to Siberia outside! From noon to one we ate at the Ankara (again) and then to the central market. Today we bought a couple of eating utensils, a sharp bread knife and some hair clips for Sarah Galia (I HATE those big poufs). I wouldn't have bought anything, but the ladies finally said I could buy Sarah some "pretties." Then down to the internet connection to get mail. I got an e-mail from Faith!!!! I read it several times. I miss her so much that it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about her. In her letter she sounds so great. Everyday without her is endless although I know it's all worth it for Faith and Sarah to be sisters forever. On our walk back we take pictures at Lenin's statue. It's not just anywhere that you could find a statue of Lenin! We'll e-mail that picture back to Ken's Economic and History students. They'll get a kick out of that. Taking the picture I had my first fall on the ice. SMASH! Right on my butt! We also bought some Karaganda chocolate. YUMMY! You'd never know it. They're cheap! If you re- wrapped them in a fancy gold wrapper you could make a fortune selling them in the US. At 3:30 we go back to Malutka. Since Sarah was just getting up and dressed, I was able to put the SMALL ladybug hair ties into her hair. She looks so much cuter. Snack is toddler cookies and milk today. Then back to the playroom for two more hours. She still won't speak to anyone. I sure would feel better if I could hear her talk. At 6:00 the most wonderful and heartbreaking thing happened. She cried when it was time for us to leave. This little girl who shows so little emotion to outsiders cried for us not to leave. SHE LOVES US!!!! My heart breaks and rejoices all at the same time. When we left Malutka today the weather was terrible. Although snow wasn't falling from the sky, the bitter wind blowing across the steppes churned the powdered snow so much that it was almost impossible to see. Even wrapped from head to toe with just my eyes visible, I though I was going to die from the cold. Walking, skating, slipping and sliding, we made it back to a taxi and then the hotel. We really didn't feel like going out to dinner tonight, so we ate the chicken and noodles that we had purchased in the market. We also shared a very good Kazakh beer. Tastes German. At 12% alcohol content and a larger size, one was plenty to split. One more bit of good news. Sunday, March 4th we get to move to an apartment within walking distance to Malutka. It will cost $150 for a month. We'll have a bedroom, a den, a bath and a kitchen. After seeing the buildings around Malutka, I'm not sure how nice it will be, but at least it's close enough to walk.

March 2, 2001 -- Today was a typical Malutka day. We gave Sarah her American Girl Asian Bitty Baby today. All the Malutka ladies remarked how much it looked like her. She really liked it. She dressed and undressed it several times, kissed it, and let it sit in her lap while she looked at books. At twelve when it was time to leave, Sarah cried again. It made me realize just how beneficial this bonding time is for her. After the afternoon visit, she cried BIG. It made me want to just run out of Malutka with her in my arms. She has grown to love us and want to be with us. I am also becoming very attached to her, too. I look forward to seeing her every moment I'm away. I'm also getting more worried that she won't speak. She understands everything people say to her in Russian, but she will NOT say anything back to them. She did whisper the word "baby" in English today-she was speaking to the doll, not to a living person. I really want to hear her voice. I wouldn't be worried if I would hear her say anything to ANYONE. I know I need to be patient. Ken is. He says he's not worried at all. He's madly in love with her; that's why he's not worried. He just thinks she is a perfect little girl. Plus, he is quiet, so it seems real normal to him. I realize that she has been in an environment where all her needs are met without any need for her to speak. She communicates with her eyes. All the other children chatter constantly. She listens. I'm still worried though. In fact, I've e-mailed Dr. Schwartzwald to see what she thinks. I wanted to ask her about Sarah's umbilical hernia anyway. We also got some Lego like toys at the central market. She enjoys building thing with her daddy. At six after we left, we walked over to see the new apartment. We've just GOT to take pictures. If my friends could see me now! Can you say "slum" in Russian? The closest thing I can think of is the old TV show Good Times. Dy-no-mite! On the positive side, it seems very safe. Of course after going through three steel doors anyone should feel safe. Also, there seem to be many families that live there. By Karaganda standards, my guess is that it would be lower middle class. By American building codes...it would have been torn down. To get to the apartment, we go through a steel door on the ground floor, up some concrete steps where we pass by what use to be mail boxes many years ago, On the second floor landing we notice the bare, exposed wiring and bare hanging light bulb. Safety first. Now we go through another steel door (for this one we need a key). Then maybe three feet later, we go through another steel door (different key). Now there are two apartment doors. Ours and another family's. We then go through the steel apartment door (third key) and we're in! Please dear Lord, don't let there be a fire; we could never get out- of course with it all cement there's not much that could burn. The apartment has a living room with a bed/futon type thing in it and a phone. The TV doesn't work. On the right is the bedroom with two twin beds. We're pretty sure that the mattresses are pre-war. On the left of the living room is the kitchen and the bathroom. The bathroom is actually two parts-a tub and sink part and a closet type room with the toilet in it. We try to pretend that it's fine. I don't know how successful I was at pulling that off. I'm going to have to buy some real strong cleaning supplies! We sort of want to be alone tonight, so we tell the facilitator and the translator that we'll stay in the hotel tonight. After they leave we trudge and slip over to the Ankara for dinner. We can't seem to communicate at all without Igor to say what we want. "Hamburger, free potatoes, hot dog" -nothing works. We were about to give up when I said, "Pizza." THAT they understood, so it was pizza for us. They have good pizza there. It's more like a Scholtzkey's than Pizza Hut, but that's okay with me.

March 3, 2001 -- Sarah SPOKE! She called me, "Mama." Out loud, not in a whisper. She also spoke to the other children-in sentences! As Igor was not there, I'm not real sure exactly what she said to them, but I think it had something to do with snack time. She was eating a roll in my lap, not at her seat. It was fine with her caregivers, but not with the other children. I think the other children told her to come to the table to eat. She pointed to the table that was next to my chair and sounded like she was scolding the other children. I can only imagine it was something to the effect of, " There is a table here. I don't want to sit with you. I'm sitting at this table with my mama." We also got to go outside today. The neighborhood children had created an ice slide. Most of the Malutka children wanted to slide down, but Sarah didn't. I went down with her one time, but then she cried. She just wanted to stand and hold my hand. That was fine with me. The other big event is that we moved today. It's terrible. There was no hot water. Apparently, whoever had lived there previously had to heat water on the stove for their baths. I said there was NO WAY I could live without hot water. Two men came to put in a little ten- gallon water heater. They hung it above the bathtub and then ran a pipe through to the kitchen. They did that by punching holes through the concrete walls from bathroom with bath, through toilet closet, and then through to the kitchen. After you use the hot water, you must unplug the water heater-and you have to climb into the tub to do that. I don't think it's got a thermostat, just a thermometer. The tubes and wires are all over the place. The whole place is a deathtrap. Our facilitators are trying to make it better. They brought us clean flat sheets (there are no fitted sheets), some new towels (think "dishtowel"), a curtain for the window and some water. Since the men worked until ten PM getting the water done, our facilitators stayed and played dominoes with us. That was pretty fun, but they talked across the table the whole time (in Russian). I think they were working in cooperation instead of competition with each other. Well, it was fun anyway. Tomorrow we may go to the aqua-park.

March 4, 2001 -- Was it really just seven days ago that we left Bellville, TX? It seems so much longer with all that we've been through and experienced. Ken and I agree that people in America do not-cannot- appreciate what they have. As I sit on the floor so I can be close to the radiator, and I listen to the refrigerator shudder and turn itself off, I think I will never undervalue the USA and all that it has for me. It was not a bad day by any means. Sarah didn't say anything today, but she smiles when she sees us. I also got her to laugh by blowing raspberries on her cheeks. I don't think blowing raspberries on her stomach would work yet. Ken and I both see a light in her eyes and a new confidence growing in her. We gave her pieces of a roll and cheerios-but not too many-we wouldn't want to spoil her dinner. This evening our facilitators took me to the aqua-park. Ken was invited too, but he declined. He did so in part because we are unsure where we would keep the money. We wouldn't want to leave it here, but we wouldn't want to take it either. The aqua park is nice. You reserve a room by the hour. This room (it does lock) has a den, a sauna, shower, Jacuzzi, bathroom, and a door that leads out to the pools. The pool has two curly slides, a regular slide, low dive and large swimming area. The water did look a bit green but smelled clean. There was also a baby pool. Our facilitators had their children with them. They have a daughter who's nine-just one year older than Faith. Seeing her made me miss Faith sooooo much. I wish I could see her. If it weren't for her, we probably wouldn't be here. That is only partly true. We want to be here. We want and love Sarah, but it was Faith's need for a sibling that fueled our desire for another child. Sarah and Faith will be sisters even when Ken and I are gone. Sisters are forever.

March 5, 2001 -- Today six more Americans (three couples) chose children at Malutka. Liz from my e-group is here! She asked us right away if we were the Heads. She's adopting a beautiful little Kazakh baby. Now there are five families in the playroom: the N.Y. couple, Liz with her sister, two more Utah couples, and us. Everyone has chosen girls. After the morning visit, Igor took us to the Ankara, shopping at the clothes market and to check the Internet. We got another e-mail from Dr. Schwarzwald that sounds very positive. She said Sarah may need speech therapy once a week, but that's okay. Her umbilical hernia is an easy outpatient surgery. Tonight was quiet. We ate those ravioli things for dinner. I must find out the real name. Ken and I are actually having a good time roughing it here. Using our best/worst Natasha from Rocky and Bulwinkle, we call each other the "stoopid Americans." We sort of feel that way. Everything is so different here, and we feel very incompetent. We hate having to rely on other people for the simple things in life like buying groceries, getting places and stuff. I never imagined the language barrier would be so difficult.

March 6, 2001 -- Well, we've completed day eight in our visit to Malutka. We're hopefully over halfway done. Sarah Galia seems like a different child than the one we met eight days ago. She smiles now and laughs, gestures, and makes her desires known. She won't talk much, but she did call me Mama again. :-) It's like, all of a sudden she figured out that we were going to come back everyday. She realized she could trust us, and so BOOM she's coming out. Tomorrow we are going to do something I'm REALLY not sure about. It feels wrong, but I don't know--maybe I'm creating demons out of angels. Our facilitator told us that the only way to get out of the two weeks post-court stay in Karaganda was if Sarah was sick. That the courts would waive the post-court days if Sarah needed medical attention in the US. That we would like to take Sarah to an outside doctor because she's small and pale. That we love and want her no matter what, but that we need to check on her physical condition. It just doesn't feel right, but I do want to go home. I guess they know how to do this, and I'll do what I'm told is necessary. I just don't want anything to jeopardize this adoption or any others. Tonight our facilitator taught me how to make a wonderful Kazakh dish called Monty (I may be spelling that wrong). It's a steamed dumpling with meat and pumpkin (or onion) inside. It scrum-deli-osious. I wrote down the recipe and will try to make it at home. We also drank vodka. I had three shots which is more liquor in one night than I usually drink in six months. They shoot vodka with salt and lemon much the way some Texans shoot tequila. They got someone to fix the TV!!!! We may get cable!!!! YEA!!! and....drum roll please...we are getting a computer with internet tomorrow! YAHOO!!!!! As much as I dislike this apartment, if I have internet and cable I'll be happy enough. Tomorrow is the Women's Day celebration at Malutka. They will put on a little show for us. Women's Day is really the 8th or March, but many of the workers will be off. I was thinking Women's Day was like Mother's Day, but it's not. It's a holiday for everyone--a real holiday, not just a card and flowers kind of day. I can't wait to see and hear little Sarah sing.

March 7, 2001 -- Happy Women's Day one day early! The children and caregivers presented a program for the adoptive parents and other Malutka ladies. Each living group sang a couple of songs, and the caregivers did little skits with them. Since it was all in Russian, I didn't have a clue what was going on. The children were all dressed up. They had all the children being adopted looking the cutest-complete with bows the size of China on their heads. Sarah was in a little white dress about two sizes too small. Her little bottom was practically showing it was so short, but she still looked beautiful. She seemed to be a little scared to even see us. When it was her group's time to perform she got up with them, but then cried, ran back to me and jumped into my lap. At the end of the program, they had all the children bring little construction paper cards with flowers on them to all the adoptive moms and other ladies watching. The caregivers gave each of the children a roll and an orange. Our facilitator also talked to Rose about taking Sarah to an outside doctor. She said yes so we'll go on Monday. I still feel like this is a bad move, but something in my gut....I don't know. I mean, I do want to go home, and Sarah would get better care in the US (she does have a bad cough), but I don't want to rock the boat. My facilitator says not to worry, that everything is fine. Sarah has started vocalizing much more. She is smiling, laughing and playing with us. I wouldn't call her a talker by any means, but she does say, "Mama" in a regular voice and "Papa" in a whisper. Although this two week bonding period is a pain in the butt, it really is good for her. When the day comes that she can leave with us, she'll go without fear. If we had gotten her on day one or two like they do in many countries, she would have been soooooo traumatized it might have taken a long time to recover. The ladies told us that last night she woke up in the middle of the night and cried for us. They told her that we would come in the morning, but she was sad and afraid we weren't going to come back. Little does she know that I would NOT leave Karaganda without her. She's MINE. Now that I've really bonded with her, I can stress about court. Well, I've gotta stress about something. We got cable! Yipee!!! The only English stations are CNN, BBC World and Fox News Network, but it sounds GREAT to me. It's fabulous having a computer, too. We've been asked not to use the Internet between 8 am and 8 pm unless it's important, but just knowing it's there makes me feel better. Now I can e-mail home any day-even on a holiday like Women's Day. Tonight for dinner we took some French bread, butter and Swiss cheese and made grill cheese sandwiches. Tasted pretty much like home. We also had Russian potato chips. They're good. They taste like Munchos potato chips, which I haven't had in years. It's funny-on the bag it says in English that they are good with a beverage or as a breakfast food. HA! My kind of Kazakh breakfast-potato chips and a Coke. Tomorrow our facilitator is going to teach me to make soup. She says it's similar to the soup that Sarah eats everyday for lunch. We made the stock for it today with water, two BIG soup bones and salt. She says, "Very good Kazakh soup. Natural." We're told a lot of Kazakh stuff is "natural." I have a feeling that will be one of those words that Ken and I will say to each other when we get home... and smile.

March 8. 2001 -- We got a weird e-mail from our agency today. She wanted to know if the adoption was going okay. She had received a call or e-mail, I couldn't tell which, that things were going wrong in our case. Are there problems? If there are, I don't know about them. I e-mailed back that I thought we were fine. I also told her about the doctor visit for Sarah. She didn't say that was okay or not. She just said to keep her informed. Okay, now I have another worry. If she's getting calls or e-mails, something must be wrong, but I don't know what she could do from there. I don't know what I could do here. We've just got to ride this out and trust God will get all three of us home. I really like having the internet in the evening, since if I e-mail her at 9 pm Karaganda time, she's working at 9 am Houston time. We can e-mail back and forth almost like instant messaging. I know she hears more from me than from our facilitator. I know the language barrier is a problem. Should I tell our facilitator about the e-mail from our agency? I forgot to ask. Until I can ask, I'm not going to say anything. With the language problem, by the time I tell Igor, he tells them, they ask questions that I can't answer....the whole thing will just turn into a big situation and there's nothing I can do to fix anything anyway. On to Sarah...we had a good time today. She laughed, played with us, smiled the whole time and had a very playful look in her eyes the entire time we were there. She also said, "Bye, bye." Yea!!! Her favorite thing to do is to hold Ken's hand and my hand, then have us pick her up off the floor as we walk down the Malutka halls. She grins and giggles. She's got a great laugh. She also loves looking through "Sarah's bag." When we go to Malutka, besides my backpack I carry a zebra striped canvas tote bag. I keep changing the items that I bring every day. It might be her Clifford puzzle in there, some books, or her doll. We usually always have Cheerios. Now when we get upstairs, she goes straight for the bag, unzips it herself, and digs in. It's very cute. There is SUCH a difference in this child. It's amazing. We made macaroni, ground beef and tomato sauce tonight. It almost tasted like home...without the spices. We also skillet grilled some french bread and butter. If we sprinkle a little salt on it before we grill, it's much better. The butter isn't salted here. It's "Natural." J As I sit here writing, I'm hit with a terrible sewage smell. It's weird. You'll just be sitting and the smell will travel through the room, leaving as quickly as it arrived. I know what it's from. The only ventilation we can find is though the toilet closet. If everyone's only ventilation is through the toilet closet, then as doors open and close somewhere close to us, it forces their smelly toilet smell throughout the building. NIIIIICCCE. I can't wait to get home. I miss all the things I completely took for granted, like spices, a pleasant smelling house, walking outside without falling on the ice, being able to go out barefoot to get the mail because it's 70 degrees in Feb and March, speaking the language, and watching more than the news 24-7. Well, I have found a good show. I'd never watched "The Factor with Bill O'Reilly" before Karaganda. It's a hoot. I like that guy. Oh, of course I also miss my Faith most of all. I can't wait to kiss her face!

March 9, 2001 -- Today was an uneventful day. We visited with Sarah, ate lunch at home, visited with Sarah, and ate dinner at home. During the after lunch break, my facilitator showed me how to make a Kazakh soup. Since we already had made the stock, it was pretty easy. It's sort of a vegetable beef soup with a twist. I wrote the recipe down so I can make it back home. Our evenings are spent watching Fox News (yea, Bill!) and listening to books on tape. We aren't using the little walkman, but bought a little boom box which we'll leave here when we go home. Since I enjoy READING, I had never listened to the tapes before, but really enjoy the calming effect of having someone else read aloud. Plus, it's a way for Ken and I to be doing something together. If he or I were reading silently, it would exclude the other. This is something we can share. I'm sure glad we'd borrowed all those tapes. They were easy to pack and have really helped. On the cable English news station they've taken out all the ads except for commercials for the History channel, National Geographic channel, and two protect the earth groups, I have already memorized the words to these commercials since it's just two different ads for each group. During those long breaks while the US is getting commercials, we just hear the Fox news network intro music and slogan OVER and OVER and OVER again. "We report. You decide." Another way I've survived the evenings is to read a daily devotional book that a friend gave me before we left. We're reading it together- her every morning when she gets up and me every evening before I go to bed. That way we're reading it at about the same time. It helps to know that at the same time I'm praying, she is also praying for our return. The snow in Karaganda has been slowing melting the past couple of days. Although it's still deep, and it still snows more everyday, the level of packed snow is decreasing. I can measure it on the walls of the apartment buildings we pass each day on our walks to Malutka. I'm seeing more wall below the windows than I did last week. The cold is also not quite as bone chilling as it was...now if that wind would just stop blowing, I think I'd survive.

March 10, 2001 -- Boy, am I tired. Today was a great but tiring day. First and most importantly, Sarah Galia is now trying to speak in English. She also ran around today like an active three-year-old. I'd forgotten just how tiring a three-year-old can be. She looks at a little photo album and tries to say these words: Mama, Papa (same in Russian and English), house, Dittie (grandmother), PawPaw (grandfather), Faith (it comes out "Fay"), Papa Tom (other grandfather), Gam (other grandmother), purple, green, and bye-bye. That's pretty good considering that less than two weeks ago she wouldn't say anything in Russian or English. She still says "da" and "nyet" but those may last for quite a while. She was also into everything. Her attention span was about 10 seconds. She would just start playing with something long enough to take it apart and then would lose interest. Some of it may just be toddler behavior and some may be testing behavior. At 1:30 we went to the aqua-park. This time I could get Ken to go. The room we got this time had all the other stuff plus a billiards table in it. The billiards cues didn't have tips though so it wasn't worth paying extra. For an hour and a half we spent $2100 tenge, about $14 USD. We were so relaxed when we left-and we felt CLEAN. If the post court days aren't waived, I may try to bring Sarah here. Tonight I was going to roast a chicken and potatoes. SURPRISE! The oven doesn't work. Well, as it was 6:30 pm, we had to do something. The chicken was thawed. Our facilitators weren't home. Igor was at a concert. I decided to try and fry it, make french fries and cream gravy. The dinner was great, but my poor body is on grease overload. I haven't really had much grease in a couple of weeks so my tummy wasn't too happy. Oh well, for Southern Fried Chicken it was worth it. This morning Sarah had on the jeans outfit we had bought her. I haven't seen her in her Mickey dress that we brought from home, so I tried to ask about it. All that accomplished was that this afternoon she was in a HORRID orange ruffled dress thing. Yes, she also had the poufs back in her hair, too. I hope they can find the Mickey dress. I'd really like her wear it when she leaves Malutka. Plus, it was Faith's dress when she was three.

March 11, 2001 -- I'm actually writing this on March 12 in the am, but it's what happened on the 11th. I've been too sick to write before now. In fact, I still feel VERY queasy. After the morning visit with Sarah (where she DID have on her Mickey dress. Yea. They found it.), we ate left over chicken for lunch and then headed off to go shopping. Our facilitators dropped us off in town for Igor to take us to the Central Market. First we dropped off the film to be developed. That in itself was difficult, as not many places develop the Advantix film. We purchased a steamer so I could make Monty back in the US. That's going to be tough to pack but worth it. Then I found some pretty, warm boots. One, I'm tired of wearing my LL Bean snow boots-they are soooooo ugly (but very functional). Also, I'd like to have some boots from Karaganda. I wear a size 38 or 39. That sounds very big compared to a 8 1/2 or 9 at home (which is still pretty big). After that we went over to the National Store. GREAT STORE!!!! I could have bought out the whole place. They had beautiful jewelry, tapestries, wooden board games similar to backgammon, sculpture, hand crafts, dolls and most anything you'd want from KZ. Finally we went back to the food market needed for our "special Kazakh dinner." Now I knew we were being fixed a special dish called besh-par-mak (I know the spelling is wrong). It means "five fingers" because you are suppose to eat it with your hands. I also knew it was made with horse meat. I RIDE horses, but was assured that these were not pet horses. The Kazakhs love their horses and would never eat their riding horses. Anyway, I knew I would never again in my life have the opportunity to taste "the delicacies of horseflesh" to quote an internet site I found before I left the States. I also knew I would probably wouldn't like it too much, but when in Rome.... We purchased five kinds of horse meat: a roast, a sausage and three other cuts. Our facilitator put in onto cook before we went for the afternoon session at Malutka. She said it takes quite a while to fix- about 3 hours or so. To get it started, she put all the meat in a big pot with water and salt, and put it on to simmer (even writing about it now is making me feel just awful). She said if you don't boil it a long time it's tough. At seven our facilitator came back over to finish the meal. She made an onion sauce and a giant noodles. They were round and the same size as a large pizza. I didn't even know you could make a noodle that big. She then put the noodles in to cook with the horse meat. When they were done she put the whole thing on a big platter. Horse meat is TERRIBLE! It's kind of sweet---like hay. It's grainy and ....just horrible. Each mouthful was harder and harder to swallow. Mostly I just stirred it around on the plate, and hid it under a big piece of noodle. They had given me some of all five cuts, so I just did the best I could. They stayed until about 9:30 or 10:00. When they left, Ken and I laughed about just how gross horse meat could taste. When we went to bed about 11 pm, I thought that was the end of the horse meat. I was wrong. At 3 am I woke up feeling very ill. At 3:15 I rushed down the hall to the toilet closet. The only thing worse than horse meat going down is horse meat coming back up.... and then having to throw up in a smelly Kazakh toilet (I've already written about the stench). The smell was already so bad in there that I couldn't sit down on the floor. That would have been too close to the toilet to survive. So I just had to stand, lean and get sick. After that I stumbled back to the couch where I laid down with a bucket next to me. Although I thought I'd lose it again several times, I managed to hang on. Let me tell you, it was a looooooong night. And I've got leftovers in the refrigerator! I can't even open the fridge to get a coke. If I did, I'd be bound to see the pot or get a whiff of the offending food (if you can call it that). Ken's just going to have to take care of it. I CAN'T look at it...or smell it.....or anything. Uuuuuggggghhhhh.

March 12, 2001 -- This morning I still felt terrible. I am queasy, achy, and cold. Ken and I think my body is having some sort of horse meat rejection. Ken just wanted to take the horse meat to the trash dump, but it's so expensive that I felt someone should enjoy it....JUST NOT ME. When our facilitators got to the apartment, I went ahead and told them it made me sick-they should just take it home. They said that many people get sick the first time they eat horse meat-that I just need to eat it again. WRONG!!! I went in the bedroom while they got it out of the refrigerator (I can't even look at the pot or I think I will puke). At 3:30 in the afternoon I finally decided that I could eat some food, so I ate about 1/2 cup of rice. This morning the only thing I could stomach was a Coke. The morning was a very stressful time. We visited the doctor that our facilitator had arranged for us to see regarding Sarah's health. Both facilitators and Igor picked me up at the apartment at 9:00. Ken had to stay behind due to lack of room in the car. We went to Malutka, bundled up Sarah and got in the car. Sarah was terrified! That's when I realized that she had probably never even been in a car before. All her needs were met at Malutka. It's not like they could take them on field trips. I can't even imagine how it would feel to get into a car without knowing what would happen. Three years old. Going someplace in a machine that she's never been in before with people that she is only just learning to trust. She sat on my lap in the backseat with her face up against my neck. I felt just terrible for her. As much as I believe in seat belts, I was glad at the time that they didn't have them. She needed my comfort, not strapping down. We drove to a part of Karaganda that I had never seen. I was told it wasn't the best part of town, but to be honest, it looked just like most of Karaganda. When we got there, I walked in the building with one of my facilitators, but was told I shouldn't speak in the building. Why? That struck me as odd, but I did as I was told. I couldn't go in to see the doctor with them. Finally, I told Igor I'd rather sit in the car. At least that way I could talk. That's when I finally felt up to drinking a Coke. Yes, I was doing all this while still feeling VERY ill. Sarah was in with the doctor from 10 to 11:30. When they came out, my facilitator said she had what they needed. She said the doctor wrote that Sarah should get medical treatment in the US and chances are that the court would agree. Ken doubts it. I don't know what I think...but I do have a strange nervous feeling in my stomach about it....or is that just remnants of horse meat? When Ken and I got back to Malutka for our afternoon visit, Sarah was in BIG tears. She had received a shot for her cough (it is a very bad cough). We only had an hour to spend with her because of an appointment with the Ministry or the Department of Guardianship. Sarah didn't want to do anything in that hour that we had with her. She just wanted to sit in my lap and whimper. Poor little thing. I did get a little smile before I dropped her off in the room. Ken didn't go in the room with me because some of the precious little boys who were so friendly when they thought they might be chosen, have become difficult. They want to be picked up and not put down. I know they just want moms and dads, too, but when Ken puts down a couple of the little boys, they get mad and spit. Yuck! The caregivers scold and send them to the corner, but I feel bad for them. If they can't win the hearts of some family, what is to become of them? As some of the children in her group are already four, their chances will decrease quickly. Once they get to Isikora (spelling), probably their only hope will be Kid Save. I pray they will find moms and dads. Nothing will make me happier than if someday I find out that these precious boys who will haunt me for years, have found their moms and dads in the States. Maybe they'll even be in Texas and we can reunite them with Sarah. You just never know. At the government office we sat in the lobby for awhile and waited... and waited....and waited. At 6:00 (about 45 minutes of waiting), we were ushered into a small office. We were introduced to a woman. She spoke English. I think I remember most of what she asked. She asked us how long we had been in Karaganda, had we visited any other baby houses, why we chose Sarah, what we knew of her medical problems, how long we had been married, about Faith, how Faith did in school, if she had any problems, what we understood about international adoptions, and why we wanted to adopt. Apparently we answered the questions satisfactorily. She said she's go to court and support our petition to adopt Sarah. I think she represents the interests of the children and state. Sooooo...tomorrow or the next day will be court!!!! After we left I finally felt up to eating a meal so we went to the Ankara for pizza. The Ankara manager or owner is getting to know us so well he gave us a piece of Turkish dessert. It was similar to baklavah, but not quite as good. Ken still enjoyed it. Although everyone here has been wonderful to us, I want to go home! I'm tired of washing clothes in the bathtub. I'm tired of the stinky apartment. I want to drink water from the tap. I want my Sarah and my Faith in the same country....and I want that country to be the USA.

March 13, 2001 -- SHE'S OURS!!!!!! Today at 5:05 PM the judge said those magic words in Russian. He granted our petition to adopt Sarah Galia. We now have TWO daughters...neither of whom are in our possession. Sarah's cough is too bad for the doctors to let her leave. I don't really agree with that, because I am just as able to handle a cough as they are. But...I must comply with their decision. Hopefully she can come home with us tomorrow, but they give no promises. Our other daughter is 12,000 miles away at Girl Scout camp. Speaking of..... Tonight on Fox News Network they had a story about a bad storm in Austin, which is where Faith is camping. They said there was flooding and high winds. I'm sure that she's okay, but camp may be a total loss. But...I'm off topic. This morning we visited Malutka just like always. Sarah was glad to see us. We played and laughed. She's really trying to talk, mimicking as best she can the names of the people in her little photo album. The cutest one is when she tries to say Faith. It either comes out "Fay" or "Tay." She did show her temper one time. It was time to take her downstairs for her lunch so I wouldn't let her take another toy down. She cried and pouted, but that's okay. She's three. It was when we left at noon that we found out that we were going to court for sure today. At noon we went to the Ankara as usual and then to shop at the central market. We bought Igor a nice watch since he didn't have one. We also bought some Kazakh music on CD. We still haven't purchased our facilitators their presents, but Igor promised to help figure out something. At 3:15 our facilitator picked us up to go to court. The following people were there: our facilitator, the court reporter, the judge, the state attorney, the lady from the Ministry of Guardianship, Igor, Rose (the Malutka director), a Malutka physician, and us. Everyone spoke, saying good things about us. The judge and state attorney asked us the following questions: Why did you choose to come to Kazakhstan to adopt? Why did we choose this child? Who will care for this child if something was to happen to us? What was our home like? What could we give to this child that she couldn't receive here?...and the clincher..... Have we heard about people who may be adopting Kazakh children not out of love, but for organ donation. The judge then excused himself for about 10 minutes, came back, and said our petition had been granted. YEA!!!!! After court our facilitator said that we should be able to leave Karaganda within a week. Wow. I didn't think it would happen. Ken says he won't believe it until it happens, but I'm hopeful. To celebrate we went to a different caf�, Accoptu Assorti. It was close to the courthouse and had very good food. Tomorrow morning we will go visit our daughter. After lunch we will buy her a new coat and other needed items. Hopefully she'll leave with us during the afternoon visit. Wow. We have another daughter. Ken, Lynn, Faith and Sarah. Sounds GREAT to me. Tonight, besides being especially happy, I want to give thanks to God. He has blessed us. He has kept us safe, led us to people who could help us, and given us our little Sarah Galia. I hope Ken will be able to stay with me. We should know tomorrow if he'll be leaving on Friday (in three days) or will stay with me until the end. I know Faith needs him, the house needs him, his students need him and so on and so on. But we need him, too. It will make getting home so much easier if I am not having to get Sarah and the luggage all by myself. I'm just not going to worry about it. What happens will happen. It's not really important. What's important is that SHE'S OURS!!!!!!

March 14, 2001 -- Today was a big ol' waste of time for us. Last night and this morning Ken and I decided that unless we can be home in the next ten days, he should go ahead and leave. We told this to our facilitators this morning. They said they would talk to us about it at lunch, then they whisked Igor off to get the new birth certificate or something like that. I don't know why they would need him. We went to Malutka. Sarah was very sweet and HUNGRY. She ate two rolls, two cookies and some cereal. She also played very nicely. She's gotten good at putting the pieces together. Just two weeks ago she couldn't do stacking ups or the putting the rings that get a little bigger on a stick. At noon we came back to the apartment and waited for our facilitator...and waited....and waited. We needed to discuss Ken's plans and we also needed to go to the store. Where were they? They never came; they never called. At 4 pm we went back to Malutka. We don't know if she's well enough to leave, and we can't ask since Igor is not with us. Six o'clock comes so we take her back down for dinner and trudge back to the apartment. Still no word. By now we are starting to get worried. All sorts of horrible things go though my mind. Maybe they were in an accident and no one tells us because no one speaks English. Maybe they were arrested for doing bad adoptions. Whatever bad thought could go through my mind, did. They said they'd be here by lunch and now it's dinner time. At 7:00 the phone rings, Igor. At 7:05 the doorbell buzzes, our facilitator. I'm still not real sure what happened, since Igor's phone English comprehension is not great. He said he'd tell me tomorrow. I've now made a list of all our needs for tomorrow, and we won't let Igor out of our sight until he understands and can make our facilitator understand that these are NEEDS, not wants.

March 15, 2001 -- Today was a real roller coaster day. This morning I agreed (under duress) that Ken could leave tomorrow if he could get a flight out. Well, he couldn't. The first flight to Houston wasn't until Tuesday (if he wanted to by-pass Moscow). I was mad that he wanted/needed to leave (I was feeling very abandoned). He was mad that I was mad. He said that we agreed. Well we did, but I didn't really think he would go. In the end, no ticket was bought. Then we went to get film developed. I had taken some passport type pictures for her birth certificate/passport/Russian visa. We had to go to several places to get Advantix film processed, and then to two more places to find a photomaster to turn the negative into passport photos. The pics will be ready tomorrow. After that we went shopping. Sarah needed a coat, scarf, mittens, hat, boots, heavy pants, etc. We got everything at the Mickey Baby House (which is NOT associated with Disney). When we tried it on her, most of it was too big, but it will do. I think Sarah will be coming home with us tomorrow. She isn't coughing much, and Igor has translated something that Malutka needs from us. YEA. Tonight Igor took us to a little Georgian restaurant within walking distance to the apartment and Malutka. It was EXCELLENT. Why hasn't he brought us here before??? All three of us ate tons of food, and the bill was about $13 USD. Of course the rest of the night the record player in my head keeps playing, "...that Georgia's always on my my my my my my-aian mind. Show me round those snow peaked mountains way down south..." My age is showing. Tonight I've been thinking and praying about what we should do about Ken going home. Then I read an e-mail from Faith. She sounded very depressed. That did it. In the morning I'm going to tell him that he can go home to be with our other daughter. I think Faith's e-mail was the answer to my prayer. I'll miss him, but I guess that's what's best for the family as a whole.

March 16, 2001 -- Big day today!!!! Sarah Galia is home with us. YEA!!!! Ken is leaving tomorrow. BOO! Let me start at the beginning. We went to Malutka just like always in the a.m. After awhile our facilitator showed up and asked why we "did not go." Since Igor wasn't with them, we thought they meant outside to play in the snow with the other children. We hadn't gone outside because Sarah didn't want to go out. She's no dummy. She knew it was COLD. Well, since they suggested it, we bundled her up in her ba-jillion layers and went outside. We just walked back and forth in front of Malutka since it was too cold to do much else. It was hard for her to even walk with all those layers. Think, the little boy in the movie, A Christmas Story who gets knocked down in the snow and can't get up because of all his layers. Our facilitator then came outside and said that we could really leave- as in leave Malutka. Boy howdy, that was all we needed to hear. We scooted back inside, unlayered her due to the heat, gathered all of her stuff together, took pictures, cried with the Malutka ladies, said a million thank yous and our good-byes, gave last presents, rebundled Sarah, and walked out of the Malutka doors forever. Ken took one hand and I took the other. Sarah tried her best to keep up with us, her little red boots shining against the white ground. As we walked through the snow, hearing the crunch of snow under our feet on the ground , I thought of how with each step we took away from Malutka, we were one step closer to our lives as a forever family. If only our Faith was here with us to share in this moment. When we got back to the apartment, I made her some soup and then tried to get her to take a nap. No way. While I was laying down with Sarah, Ken left to go get his ticket home. That took most of the day. When he got home he told me the plan. He and one of our facilitators would take the train from Karaganda to Astana. Then the next day he would get a plane from Astana to Frankfurt. Then about 36 hours after that he will take the plane from Frankfurt to Houston. Since Ken was gone to get his ticket and I was alone, our other facilitator told me not to take Sarah back to Malutka to say goodbye to her other teachers. Part of me is glad, because I don't want Sarah to think I'm taking her back. The other part of me is not happy. Our facilitator had told the ladies I would bring Sarah back to say goodbye. I don't like to not do what I say I'm going to do. Tonight I steamed some Monty I purchased from the little grocery across the street. That girl can EAT! I don't want to overload her tummy when she's not accustomed to eating so much, but I want to add a few lbs. to her. Oh, one other funny thing. We were told not to give Sarah anything cold to eat or drink. They said we should let the apple juice, milk, and even yogurt get to room temperature. That cold foods and drinks would give you a cold virus. I'll comply a bit in the presence of others, but I'm not giving her room temperature milk or yogurt. I just thought that was pretty funny.

March 17, 2001 -- Ken left today. I was so sad when he left, but I didn't really show it in front of Sarah. It's for the best. He's needed at home, and we should be close behind him. Our facilitators gave us a beautiful coffee table book on Kazakhstan. The only problem is that it's in Kazakh. Well, the pictures are gorgeous anyway. We went ahead and gave Igor his watch and our facilitators their electronic organizers. We'd purchased them here. They were much more expensive than in the US, but a US one would be useless-these were in Russian. Sarah was into the swing of things today. Igor took us to the Georgian restaurant for lunch, but I had forgotten to take Sarah's little potty. Although she is completely potty trained, she won't sit on the big toilet. She thinks she MUST sit on her potty. Well, she needed to go, but wouldn't sit on the potty. She cried and said no. Necessity is the mother of invention. Finally I sat down on the very back of the toilet seat and sort of held her over the rest of the toilet. That was good enough for her. She went potty and believe it or not, I didn't get wet. Well, I won't forget the little potty again. She took a nap this afternoon. Tonight I reheated the Monty for her and fixed me a hot dog using flat bread as a hot dog bun. Oh, I finally found mustard!!! YEA! It was European, not yellow, gosh darn it, but it still tasted wonderful after all this time with just ketchup and mayo. Sarah didn't go to sleep tonight until almost 10 pm. I was as worn out as she was by the time she went to sleep, but it's much easier to get stuff done when she's down. I took my bath, checked the internet and read a little to wind down. Then I started writing today's events. She's awakened twice, and both times has cried so sadly. I think she's homesick for Malutka. It must be very hard. She's just three and is now without the only friends and family she has ever known. I'm homesick at night to be with those I love; I'm sure she is, too. I already miss Ken. I think Sarah does, too. She's asked about him twice already. I showed her the picture of home and told her that her Papa has gone there. I think she understands, but I'm not sure. I'm so lonesome for him I could cry. I've got to just hang in there. We'll be home before too long.

March 18, 2001 -- Today was okay. Nothing much happened today. Sarah had three BIG meltdowns. One at nap time. One at dinner. She wasn't eating her roll so when I was cleaning up I threw it away. Big mistake. In hindsight I realize that she lived in a condition where throwing away uneaten food was unacceptable. She may have thought she was being punished. Her last meltdown was at bedtime. Let's see, do I see a trend developing? Also, when Sarah melts, she MELTS. She screams, cries, throws herself down and wets the floor. All this from a child that wouldn't make a sound a couple of weeks ago. For lunch today I made chicken noodle soup. For dinner I made what the Kazakhs call "sailor's noodles" (I think). We'd call it homemade hamburger helper.

March 19, 2001 -- I learned how to play a fun game today called Nardee. It's similar to backgammon. Igor and his girlfriend, Saulee, came over. Sauleee brought a great little rolled cake thing. She speaks some English, and I am grateful for the company. I think both Sarah and I have fallen into a post adoption depression. Although she will still laugh and play, she breaks down into sobs over nothing and can cry for 30 - 40 minutes at a time. I know she is frustrated when I don't understand what she is saying or whenI say no, but what can I do? What I can do and have done is ask God for help. I WILL be a good mother and parent my little girl. I want to love her with all my mind, heart and soul. I do love her with all my mind and heart, but she is not yet in my soul. I've asked God to put Sarah into my soul, and I know He will in His own time. I must remember that I've only known her for three weeks. I love her, but not the way I want to yet. I know that I will in time. I try to remember when Faith was only three weeks old. I think I felt completely overwhelmed, which is how I feel now. I am so overwhelmed that it's hard to really enjoy Sarah. I'm trapped in this apartment. I'm the only English speaker. I can't really go anywhere. I've got a preschooler that I can't communicate with. I don't know when I'm going home. I'm lonely. I wonder if I've lost my mind for thinking I could do this. This is WAY harder than I thought it would be. I do not regret our decision at all, but I had no idea that this would be SO HARD. I've read The Weaver's Craft and Our Own: Adopting and Parenting the Older Child. I know the feelings I have are perfectly normal-it's just that I don't want to have this feeling of being overwhelmed. On top of it all, I think I'm going to have trouble leaving. I got an e-mail from my agency that said Ken should have signed one more document before he left--the I600. That my power of attorney isn't good enough. I thought if he had signed it that it would have to have been notarized. I've mailed back to see if he can go by the agency office, sign another I600, and they can FedEx it to Moscow. Dear God, please let me get home quickly. I need to be there. I need Ken. I need my Faith. When I see Faith's picture, I start crying. I need my whole family in one spot--not 12,000 miles apart. I need to bond with Sarah on my home turf. I did the bonding thing here. The rest of this time is pointless. I'm trying to be strong,but it's so hard. On the bright side, Igor is telling me a Kazakh fairy tale. I'm typing it on the computer while he tells me the story. This way, I'll have a traditional story for Sarah when she gets older. Reading back over this, I sound really bizarre. When Sarah gets old enough to read it, she's going to think...well, I don't know what she'll think. I do love her and will grow to love her even more. I just need to go home!

March 20, 2001 -- early afternoon -- I hate to say that today has been even worse, but it has. Sarah was more volatile in her moods, and I cried even easier over my situation. One bit of good news. Ken can go to the agency, sign an I600 and they will FedEx it to Moscow. I'll pick up the document there. FedExing it to Moscow is much faster than FedExing it here. Sarah just finished having a 40 minute tantrum. It started when Sarah wanted a cup of hot tea in the living room. I told her no, that we would drink our tea in the kitchen area. That set her off. She screamed, wet her pants (I think on purpose), and wouldn't sit on the potty. I calmly cleaned up the floor and then took off her wet clothes. Then, she wouldn't put on clean ones. I put them on her anyway. She was so mad she threw toys, laid down on the floor, kicked her feet and screamed---for 30 more minutes. I tried to just straighten up the apartment (staying busy was my way of staying sane), but wherever I went she would crawl in the room, lay down on the floor and continue the tantrum. If I wasn't so on edge it would have been funny, and a year from now it probably will be, but right now it's NOT. Gee, are we going through some testing of Mama here?

Later -- The worst possible thing has happened to me adoption wise, but it does have most wondrous effect. Okay - here it goes. We can't leave anytime soon. Well, I can leave but Sarah can't. My facilitator told me that our case is being audited. I don't really understand. I talked to the agency (by phone-I called collect), they aren't real sure as this is their first KZ adoption, but they said that random audits do occur in some other countries. Sort of like we have random IRS tax audits. Anyway, I believe the agency will do everything they can to make the audit go smoothly, but I don't believe the audit is random. I don't have anyway to find out if I am right, and at this time neither does my agency. I have to go on the word of my facilitator that am coming to doubt more and more. I do not doubt in any way that they care about getting me home with Sarah-I know they want this adoption to work. I just don't feel they are being honest with me (and maybe not the government). I know Ken and I didn't do anything wrong (on purpose). I know we tried to dot every i and cross every t. I just don't think it's random, and there is NOTHING I can do. I DO think Sarah will eventually get home, but I don't know when. Anyway, when I talked to the agency a solution had been proposed. Since I really need to go home (for financial, familial, and sanity reasons), Sarah can go into foster care. When the audit is complete (I just feel in my heart that it will be okay eventually), she can be escorted to Moscow. I'll fly to pick her up there and finish out the trip. If for some reason the audit is not satisfactory, my butt can come back to Karaganda to get my daughter. My agency thought this was a good solution. If things do not go satisfactorily, then they can even send the Russian facilitator (who I'm told is EXCELLENT) to KZ to find out the real scoop. No matter what, I will get Sarah. She just won't be coming home with me immediately. As bad as all of this is (and how could it get much worse?) a wonderful thing has happened. I've been praying that God would show me that Sarah is my true daughter. He has done that. When I found out that the best thing would be for me to leave Karaganda and be reunited with Sarah later, my heart broke. It has just about killed me. As painful as this is, He has shown me that SARAH IS MY DAUGHTER. Do I wish He had shown me in a less painful way? Sure, but this way sure worked. She is MINE. She is in my mind, heart and soul. She is my true daughter. I've got a million things to do before I leave if I don't want to go through Moscow. I've got to get another power of attorney to my facilitator with permission to escort and stuff. The agency has faxed them the list of what they must have from me, plus she e-mailed it to me, too. It's 12:45 at night. I'm sitting in the hall so that I can hear Sarah's sweet breathing. I want to run wake her up and smother her with kisses, but I better not. How can I make a three-year-old understand that I am not abandoning her? That she will be home with me in just a couple or three weeks? The next couple of days before I leave will be tough, but I will savor every moment with Sarah. As much as it hurts, I will remember to thank God for answering my prayers. Sarah Galia is my daughter.

March 21, 2001 -- Today was a pretty good day. We got to go outside today. The cold wasn't so bad. The snow has really started melting, making Karaganda a muddy mess. Since I've never lived where there was this much snow, I didn't realize that the massive amounts of melting snow would make rivers that run down the street. At first, I though some major water mains had broken. Anyway, back to Sarah. We got to go run errands. She enjoys getting out, since while out, she never had one fit. She was an agreeable, smiling child. She did throw a fit before we left but it was only a 15 minute one. Then again tonight she threw a real whopper of a fit at bedtime, but since the rest of the day was nice, it made a couple of fits much more tolerable. I think being stuck in this tiny, ugly apartment without much stimulation was making her as depressed as it was me. One thing I've noticed about Kazakhstan. It takes all day to do anything. Something that it would have taken fifteen minutes to arrange in the states takes two or three hours here. I'm talking about getting my airline ticket back to the US. After that, we went to get a bite to eat, to the park to take a walk, drove past the maternity hospital where my Sarah, or Sarushka as the diminutive Russian Sarah (the accent must be on the "Sa" syllable -if you put the accent on the "Roo" sounding syllable it means "shirt"), went to the National Shop, and got the power of attorney for Sarah to be escorted to Moscow. My internet is down, and has been since the thaw began. I think the lines are wet. Since I really need to contact home, I called Kate (one of the other adopting moms). She's going to e-mail Ken, my dad and my agency telling all of them the flight numbers and stuff. One really cool thing I bought at the national shop was this decorative horse milk flask type thing. It's about a foot and a half long and made of tooled leather. They were used when the Kazakhs would be out on the steppes. They would fill it with horse milk to drink. Sounds really gross to me, but the container is neat. I don't think anyone drinks horse milk anymore, but I didn't want to ask. I don't really want to know. It was $2000 tenge. I also bought a beautiful black onyx cross pendant for me. It's been years since I've worn a cross. It is a wonderful piece of jewelry that will always have a special significance for me. I'll always remember that I bought it the day after He let me know that Sarah was really mine. Understanding this has helped me be at peace with my situation, the adoption, and life. Everything WILL work out. I know it. I can relax now and let God handle it, because I certainly can't do it without Him.

March 22, 2001 -- Happy Kazakh New Year! Today is a holiday. I had a great day today. The weather was gorgeous! It was warm by Karaganda standards- my guess about 45 degrees. The sky was blue. It was a perfect day for festivities, fun, and farewells. At the central park there was music, dancing, food...everything. The whole place was packed with Kazakhs ready to celebrate and start their new year. When Kazakhstan was part of the USSR, they were not allowed to have New Year's celebrations. Also when they were part of the USSR most of the clothes they could buy were grays and browns. Today the park was filled with bright parkas in every shade in the rainbow. Of course their were still those in their furs and black, but it seemed that many had pulled out their spring coats for the warm weather. Sarah was a complete angel. She LOVES to get out. She walked around and stared at the multitudes in a complete wonder. She had never seen so many people. I bought her an ice cream. At first she wasn't too sure about it, but after one bite...well, she was a child with ice cream...much of it on her face. As hard as it was for me, I let her walk quite a bit with the family she will be staying with when I am gone. They have children, which Sarah will enjoy. She was very quiet, and would walk with them, but she kept looking at me and grinning. It will be so hard to leave her, but it should only be for two to three weeks. One of the factors that went into my decision to leave is my time off from work. I've been gone from work now almost a month. If I go back and work until time for Sarah to come back-even if it's just three weeks, it will give me a little leeway on taking more time off with her when she is home. If I am stuck here another three weeks or so, I will have even less time I can spend away from work when it really matters. Part of me feels this is just poor justification of the difficult decision I have made...how can I leave her? But, I must keep my job. After this international adoption we don't have extra money to spare. This will be best in the long run, but in the short run it is very painful. Tonight my facilitator made Monty. It was wonderful of course. We had Kazakh wine and a great dessert. When everyone left at ten, I finished packing. It broke my heart every time I went in the room where my little Sarah was sleeping. Tomorrow is going to be very difficult. God has answered my prayers in the sweetest yet most painful way. If she were not my daughter, this would not be such a sad goodbye.

March 23, 2001 -- I'm sitting in the Karaganda airport, looking out over the steppes. The low mountains are on the horizon. It's funny, when we arrived there was so much snow, ice, and snow clouds that we never had enough visibility to see them. There is still snow on the ground, but there are also patches of grass peeking through, proof that spring has arrived. My heart is breaking. It's very difficult sitting here and not REALLY crying-and me without my sunglasses. ;-) Sarah was very sweet today. That made it that much tougher leaving. Only one fit today, and that was when I wouldn't let her color on the wall (not that it would have made the apartment look any worse). She's been so loving, and that is what is killing me about leaving her. We are just starting to cement our relationship and here I am, leaving her. I trust the family she'll be staying with. I know they will try to make her happy until we can be reunited. I left the photo album with her. She's got lots of pictures of us together. It's also got pictures of her life to come-her sister, dogs, cat, grandparents, and home. They promised to let her look at it everyday, and to tell her that she would be coming to us soon. The little monkey likes peanut butter. I hadn't really let her have it because I was afraid of a food allergy and not being able to get medical care. Anyway, I was making me a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast when she came in the room, picked up the sandwich and started eating it. She was in hog heaven. She really wanted to eat it out of the jar. Boy, that would put some meat on those skinny little legs. Okay, now I'm on the Air Kazakhstan airplane. Taking those steps onto the plane was tough. With each step I am closer to my child in Texas, and further from my child here. It's just not fair. I really hope I'm getting back on a plane in two weeks to get her. I'd love for her to be home by Easter. Oh, I forgot to write something about yesterday. While at the New Year's Festival, I met some American missionaries. They were Methodists, and from Kentucky. It felt so wonderful to hear the word "y'all" again. I've kept their e-mail to give to other couples traveling. They have services in English. I would really have liked to have gone to church while here. Just my luck meeting them on the last day.

Later -- In Frankfurt now. I had to wait at the Lufthansa counter for an hour and a half to get my ticket changed. They were having computer problems, but it was all worth it. They went ahead and checked my luggage so I won't have to mess with it tomorrow. Then I stumbled half blind with exhaustion down to the airport Sheraton. That $155 a night room was worth it! It may have only cost $175 for our apartment in Karaganda for a month, but for one night in a real bed with real pillows (not the bag-o-rags), fitted sheets, a real bathtub with water that doesn't stink, a normal toilet, and more than Fox News and BBC World on the TV, the $155 seemed like a bargain. I went to the business center and they let me e-mail for free (well, I did pay $155 for the room). I let Ken, my parents, my agency, and our facilitator in Karaganda all know that I am here and safe. I'm really tired, so I better sleep...if I can. My body is on Karaganda time. My heart is on Karaganda time, too. Please Lord, take care of Sarah, and help her understand that I haven't abandoned her. Bring her home to me soon.

March 24, 2001 -- It's 7:30 a.m. I'm in the Frankfurt airport McDonalds eating a Big Mac and it tastes GREAT! Oh my gosh, I never knew a Big Mac could actually taste good. I forgot to mention in yesterday's post that I had absolutely NO problems in Passport Control at the Karaganda airport. No questions, no counting money, nothing. Maybe it's because I didn't have Sarah with me, I don't know. After this journal entry, I won't write everyday until it's time to go get my little girl. I'll still write when I have some news on the adoption or travel date, I really hope it will be soon. I miss her alreay.

April 29, 2001 -- Well, it's been a while since I've written. Being without Sarah has been complete and total hell. I've been frantic with worry and I feel with good reason, but now the tide has turned. We've heard from our facilitator. Everything is fine. I'm going to go get my love in just a week or so-maybe as early as May 4. God has made me practice patience....but apparently I've practiced almost long enough. Let me back up a bit. About the middle of this month I had just about had it. I was so depressed and knew something had gone wrong. I still think something did go wrong and has just been fixed. Anyway, I called my agency and talked to them about them sending their Russian coordinator to KZ to find out the real scoop on Sarah. Since they don't speak Russian, they were just having to go on blind trust that the information we were getting out of KZ was true. The information just sounded fishy coming from the facilitator. No audit could take that long. I was beginning to think I was going to go over to KZ and kick some bootie! Well, they agreed that something must be done, but before they could even arrange anything, the facilitator e- mailed saying Sarah's papers were released on the 19th! I didn't write right away because I just wanted to bask in the complete joy of knowing my daughter was coming home. Well now it's time to get busy, but I'm still on hurry-up-and-wait. We don't know the date of when Sarah can get to Moscow. They've got to get the new birth cert and traveling documents. They've got to go to Almaty, and they have to get to Moscow when I can get to Moscow. As of the 24th the documents still weren't ready, but they should be ready by now-heck, it's been three working days! Of course there is some kind of Russian/Kazakh holiday to contend with coming up....they have more holidays than we do! They're going to try to get her there by May 3rd so that the embassy visit can be on the 4th. If they can't make that date, it's going to end up being the 10th because I have to stay over in Moscow on a Saturday night. Even with Lufthansa's adoption rate, it seems it will still cost a fraction of the cost if I stay over on a Saturday night since my trip will be so short. Well, I don't want to be in Moscow for almost a week. I'm really hoping for the may 3rd/4th thing. I've been without her so long. But I have to remember that in the big picture of our spending our forever family lives together, one week isn't that long.

May 9, 2001 -- Here I sit in the Continental President's Club Lounge waiting once again for a plane to take me to Sarah. This time I'm alone. Ken is staying home with Faith and I am traveling across the world to pick up our daughter. It's funny, last time I sat here I was so scared. Now I feel strangely calm. It's been a long and difficult ordeal, but it's almost over. Even now though I am plagued with things that would make the old me scream. When I went to check in at Luftansa, I was told that tomorrow there will be a one day strike in Frankfurt--my destination. Since this plane will land "tomorrow" there may not be a plane to get on to take me to Moscow. They've told me that certain flights won't be cancelled, and that my flight is not on the cancelled list, but "there are no guarantees." If I get to Frankfurt and there is no flight to Moscow I don't know what I'll do, but I must trust that God will look out for me. I've missed my Sarah so much. The e-mails from our facilitator are as upbeat as can be expected considering they don't speak English, but they are a small consolation. I want her home with us, and I'm ever so tired of messing with all this. Even though I'll only be gone a few days, it was hard leaving Faith. It was hard on her, too. She did without me for a month, and has been a home-body since I've returned. Well, God willing, I'll be home in 97 hours with Sarah in tow. My life will never be the same. No longer will I be making sure one is ready for school, but two. There will be one more toothbrush in the bathroom. One more sweet mouth to kiss goodnight.

May 10, 2001 -- It's really late. My daughter is asleep in the bed next to me. Wow. She is so amazing. But I'll back up to the plane trip. When we got to Frankfurt, it was a zoo. There were people scurrying everywhere trying to get replacement tickets to their destination. We had to walk forever. When I got up to the gate there was a line a mile long. People sounded very angry. My heart sank and I thought I was going to cry. I got up to the counter and asked if the flight had been canceled. No! It wasn't canceled. All the angry people were trying to get on our flight. I was SOOOOO happy that I already had a boarding pass. Of course the plane was packed, but I was so happy just to have a seat. We got to Moscow in the middle of the afternoon. I had to stand in a big old hairy line to go through passport control. I thought I'd never get through. After that, I immediately saw my bag, snagged it up and went through customs. As I got through that, I thought, "well, what now?" Just then a tall Russian gentleman said, "Are you Lynn Head?" It was Alex, my driver. At first I thought that Sarah wasn't there, but then he led me though the crowd and there she was!!!! She looked so cute in her little Mickey Mouse dress and hat. I walked up to her and bent down to scoop her up. She looked at me, turned around, started crying and hid behind our KZ facilitator (her foster mom). I didn't know quite what to do. She wouldn't look at me, talk to me, hold my hand, let me help her in the car, or even sit by me. I tried not to let on how heartbroken I was, but I was crushed. My mind was perfectly rational...she had been away from me longer than she had been with me. She probably thought she would never see me again. This was her way of trying to maintain some control over her life. She didn't trust me anymore.....it still hurt. All afternoon she wouldn't have anything to do with me. She just wanted our KZ facilitator. We checked into a very cool hotel. Hotel Ukraina, a very old, beautiful hotel. $75 per night. The architecture is just gorgeous. The doctor couldn't come to the hotel tonight so I took my KZ facilitator and Sarah to a McDonalds within walking distance. A first for both of them. Sarah's first cheeseburger ever. Her first french fries ever. Her first time to drink out of a straw (it took about five minutes for her to catch on how to use it properly). By this point, she's tolerating me, though it's clear she prefers her foster mom (I couldn't wait for her to leave us alone!). Finally at 9:30 pm (it was still very light outside!), the facilitator left. Within ten minutes, Sarah was back to the little girl I had left in KZ. It was heaven. She was my daughter again. Now that I've got her, I'm ready to go home!! It won't be that long before we are all together. I've got about 56 hours left here. Oh, Moscow is pretty cool. My Russian facilitator is great. She is knowledgeable and professional, but still seems very personable. She says all my documents look fine (whew). Well, it's very late now. I ought to go to sleep, but when I look over at Sarah, it makes me realize just how blessed we all were to find each other in this great big world.

May 11, 2001 -- We've got our entry visa!!!! As soon as Sarah steps foot on American soil, she'll be my little American citizen daughter. She's legal. I'm pretty pooped out though. Here was my day: First, Sarah didn't go to sleep last night until between 11 and 11:30. Then I wrote down my thoughts so by the time I went to sleep in was in the early a.m. I had to leave a wake up call for 6:30 because the Dr. visit was scheduled for 7:00 am. All those hours on the plane with only two hours of in-flight sleeping. Then my busy day yesterday. Finally only about six hours of sleep here. JET LAG! The doctor was a very nice man. He spoke perfect English with a Russian accent. He was here about 30 minutes. He told me that she looks like she has a mild case of rickets, but not too bad. He also thinks that she has some Korean in her heritage. She does have some Korean features and there are quite a few Koreans in Karaganda, so he may be right. My Russian facilitator came at 9 am to pick up the medical documents and go to the Embassy. Sarah and I went down to breakfast. When she got back from the embassy, she said that we'd need to get new visa pictures for Sarah. Well, Sarah was not one bit happy about having her picture taken. She freaked out. That photographer was good though. We ended up sitting Sarah on my lap (she was fine there). His assistant then quickly held a white screen up between her and I. Snap. Flash. Done. After that, I walked with Sarah to a toy shop. I bought some Russian wooden alphabet blocks and a doll stroller that she just HAD to have. That should be fun to transport. The facilitator arrived at 1:20 to pick us up for the Embassy visit. When we arrived there, it was raining. We all scrunched under a locked archway waiting to be let in for our 2:00 appointment. About ten minutes until 2, they let in the parents and children. Facilitators are not allowed in. We were given visitor passes and led through a courtyard and into another building. That's where I practically had to strip to get though the metal detector. No credit cards, belts, fanny packs. I took all that off and it still beeped. Took off my sweater and watch. It STILL beeped. What they finally figured out was setting it off after carefully scanning me with the wand, was the metal hooks used to lace up my boots. We had to check cameras at the desk. After getting all my clothes and accessories back on, the seven other couples with children and I went to a room with about 30 chairs in it. At the front of the room was a screen room divider with a bank of windows behind it. When they called my name I felt very fortunate. I had an American asking me questions. The other investigators (I don't know what else to call them) were all Russians. They seemed to ask many more questions than were asked of me. I don't remember exactly what he asked me, but I think it was did both Ken and I spend time with Sarah prior to adopting her and other really simple questions. He then asked me to raise my right hand and promise to.....I don't remember. My mind was buzzing so much. It's all sort of a blur. We went back and sat down. About two minutes later our visa was ready. He told us not to open the packet or let anyone else open the packet until we got to the US and gave it to immigration. After that we were pretty hungry so our facilitator took us to KFC. That seemed really weird. More so than McDonalds. Sarah was asleep so we got it to go. It didn't taste like US KFC, but it was still pretty good. When we got back to the Hotel Ukraina, my KZ facilitator was there. She had brought all of Sarah's things, and wanted to say goodbye to us. Well I'm happy to say that Sarah treated HER the was she had treated ME the day before. She wouldn't look at her or talk to her. Finally she got up, ran to me and hid her face in my neck. I think she thought she was going to have to leave with her. The KZ facilitator was on her way to the airport so I gave her the gifts I had brought from TX. Tequila, TX wine, a photo album, TX chili mix, a TX bluebonnet keychain, a card with some extra traveling money and for her kids, peanut butter and a box of Rice Crispy treats. I also gave her some gifts for her to take back to Igor in Karaganda. I hope she'll give them to him. I had planned on Sarah and I walking someplace for dinner, but she wouldn't hold my hand outside (don't know why), so we ordered room service. Bedtime was a battle again. It was about 11 pm before she dropped. I guess I ought to get some sleep. Alex is picking us up at 10am for a tour of Moscow. After tonight, just one more night until we GO HOME.

May 12, 2001 -- Today was a pretty darn good day, but I can't write long. It's 10:45 pm and the alarm is ringing at 3:45 am. I've gotta get some sleep. Alex picked us up at 10:00 am. We went driving all around Moscow. I got to see a view of Moscow that was unbelievable, Red Square, the Kremlin, the KGB office building, a flea market, several churches, a mall. The mall was full of beautiful stores. As we were walking though it I saw several billboards for different fashion designers with half naked women on them-breasts and all. I commented to Alex that that would never fly in the US, but he said it was no big deal here. I bought nesting dolls, some porcelain, Christmas ornaments, a cool backpack, some amber and other assorted gifts. For lunch we went to a Russian restaurant and then Alex dropped us off about 4 pm. As Sarah wanted me to carry her THE WHOLE TIME, I was pretty pooped. Tonight wasn't too much fun. At the Russian restaurant the waitress had given Sarah a balloon. She loved it but would not leave it tied to her wrist. She also wouldn't leave it tied to her doll stroller. Well, we were watching Teletubbies (in Russian) and Sarah thought it was great fun to keep letting the balloon go and watch it fly up to the ceiling. Of course then she would want me to get it down again. The hotel room has 12 foot ceilings!! I was able to get it down about 10 times or so, but finally static electricity caused the string to cling to the balloon as it rose up. I tried throwing shoes, standing on the bed, standing on the dresser, everything. That balloon was not coming down. Sarah cried.....and cried....and cried.....and the balloon is still up there. About 9:45 she finally cried herself to sleep. I don't think she would have even gone down then if I hadn't sneaked her a quarter of a Dramamine that I brought along in case she gets air sick on the flight home. Part of me feels like a bad mother for getting her to go to sleep this way, but the other (saner) me knows just how early 3:45 is. Well, I better get to sleep. Alex is picking us up at 4:30 am to get us to the airport. YEA! We're going HOME!

May 13, 2001 -- We're HOME!!!! It's been such a long road, but we made it. We woke up this morning at 3:45 am. I had the bags already packed. All I had to do was slip on my dress, slip on Sarah's dress and get the luggage to the lobby. We wore our matching pink Mickey Mouse dresses. Faith had been told to wear hers when she met us at the airport in Houston. Anyway, Sarah woke right up but stayed pretty groggy while I got her dressed and downstairs. We got to the airport. Where we were to show them our paperwork, the person started staying things I didn't understand. Alex said something to him in Russian and they let us on through. They didn't even really check much. Alex wouldn't tell me what was said. He just said not to worry and to have a safe flight. We got in line for Luftansa but the computers were down. Alex stayed with me, but I don't think he was suppose to. It took over an hour to check in. When we got through, Alex said he really couldn't go any further so I said good-bye. He has been very kind. Finally, passport control. No problems. Yea! We got on the plane. No problems until...I tried to fasten Sarah's seat belt. All hell broke loose. These were not ordinary tears, but the terrified screams of a panicked child. She didn't want it on her no matter how loose I made it. She didn't even want it near her. She SCREAMED, thrashed, hit, cried. She did NOT calm down until I took off the belt. That was one long take off. Everything was fine in the flight until landing time. Then the screaming began again. Finally the flight attendant told me I could unbuckle her and lay her across my lap, even though she is really too old. We arrived in Frankfrut to chaos. The lines to get our boarding pass were terrible, and Sarah insisted that I carry her. A twenty-seven pound three year old gets pretty heavy on your left arm when you're in line for a long time. There were tons of children on the flight to Houston, but none could scream like Sarah. I didn't buckle her in but just layed her across my lap. She didn't like it, and she cried, but it was better than the panic. When we arrived in Houston we found out--just my luck--my luggage had been left in Moscow because of the computer problems. By this time I was too tired to even care if I ever saw my luggage again. I had been up for 22 hours w/o sleep. My left arm was numb from holding Sarah on my hip. Sarah had only slept for two hours on the plane. I just wanted to go home and die. Luftansa said my luggage was already on it's way to Frankfurt and would be delivered to my house tomorrow. I told them it was an hour and a half away, but they said no problem. I was so happy to see Ken and Faith. Yes, she did have on her pink Mickey dress. Sarah didn't want to have anything to do with either of them. She wouldn't look at them or talk to them. Sort of like when I first got to Moscow. Getting Sarah in a car seat was out of the question. NO seat belts for her right now. I know it's illegal, but we made it this far, we could make it home. She rode home in complete silence and wouldn't even eat a rice crispy treat---her favorite thing in KZ and Moscow. When she got home and saw the cat, she said, "Baby!" We said, "Kitty" two times and she got it right away! She's terrified of the cat, but interested. She also is terrified of the dogs, but they mostly stay outside anyway. She still won't look at Ken, but will look at Faith. She won't talk to her or touch her though. She only wants me. Tonight Sarah went to bed very early. I'm hoping she'll sleep through the night but I'm not counting on it. A nine hour difference has got to catch up to you sometime. Lynn in TX