Merry Christmas and a few more letters too...

Sitting on the train to my beautiful Edinburgh, having had a dream about my baby last night and feeling somewhat out the game. It has been a frantic month; Christmas build up coupled with end of year stuff (teachers on the northern hemisphere: trust me, this is a new beast and it still comes as a complete shock, despite this being my 4th year of it!), moving apartment and many, many more hoops with the old Ministerio...this girl is ready to fall down and sleep for 100 years!

Having found out that I have been approved to adopt Emilio and then accepting their acceptance of my request, I've been waiting to find out what's next. I found a fantastic apartment near my school which has a garden so it was a bit of a mad dash to get old apartment packed up and moved to new apartment. This is the longest I've lived in one place since I left home at 17 and it was all a bit emotional...silly, really, but there we go. However, we are moved in, Bee is now outside for the first time in about 7 years and the dogs are happy as Larry. Who even is Larry? What was he so happy about?? Unpacking slowly and realising just how much crap I have that I really, REALLY don't need. I've also started to buy wee bits and pieces for my boy and have cried at every purchase. Need to Woman Up in the near future. 

The latest in the Paperwork Pantomime was just this week. As I was running around trying to get internet installed, netting put up to stop escaping animals, Christmas shopping done, school admin work finished off, and dealing with a NASTY vom bug, the delightful psychologist was back on the blower. I find her so very hard to understand as she uses such flowery, flowery language and says 500 words when she could use 2...anyway...I understood that I was to make a photo album for E with my family, his new house, me, the pets, my Peruvian Tribe etc and take that, a gift and a letter for him to the head of the albergues where he lives. I thought I had an appointment there and emailed her 3 times in the day to ask her to confirm the time and place. She did not reply. So I hoofed it away from our end of year celebration, in the horrible, HORRIBLE Lima Christmas traffic to arrive there almost on time, armed with said present and lovely photo album (which I thoroughly enjoyed making) to be told that I didn't have an appointment. I handed over the gifts and thought, 'Yes! Don't have to deal with her and I can get home and get organised for Baby Shower that evening.' PAAAAHAAAAHAAAAA! 

Very, very unfortunately, one of my Tribe had an accident at work and was in hospital. She text to say she was about to get discharged so off I went to see if I could help over there. 4 hours later, we were still waiting... And one more phone call from the psychologist, an hour and a half after our supposed appointment, to ask when I was coming in. I started getting a bit hysterical and asked her, for the millionth time, to PLEASE write to me in an email because I find it very difficult to understand her on the phone. 'No te preocupes, Marianne. Nos vemos mañana'. ARRRRRGHHHHHHHH! 

Blah, blah, blah. Clare did get released eventually, baby shower was beautiful and off I went the next morning, having received no less than 3 replies from your woman that night telling me different times to meet. I think she just learned to work her email. Whatever. On arrival at the office, I was presented with yet another letter, telling the albergue that I had accepted their acceptance of my request to adopt. You could not make this up. I had to bring that letter to the head office, get it stamped and signed and bring it back to this office. ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME?????? I could have got Glovo to do that. However, it is done. They will be taking the gift and the photo album to him over the month that I'm away to start preparing him for his new mummy, his new family, his new home and his new life! 

And now, here I am, back with my family in lovely, cold Scotland for the last time as a single, childless spinster! The moaning and the stress and the shouting at people and the crying can go on and on, for all I care. I will write them a million more letters and take it to the ends of the Earth if they ask...it all just means that my baby is coming home. 

Merry Christmas, people. Huge love to all. xxxx

And...

They made me wait 5 and a half weeks. They told me the consejo was programmed for Thursday 29th November. I knew, KNEW deep down, that I wouldn't have news that very day but when they give you a date, you kind of stick in your head that this is THE date. It wasn't. 

I flipped out all day, had my phone stuck to my hand, was sweating, shaking, crying at various points in the day till at last I called to find out what was going on and when I would know. They were still in the meeting. Then I got my friend to call an hour later. They were in the meeting till 6pm and so no, there would be no news that day. There was some confusion over what the chuff happened next as my friend was told that they had to talk to the jefa, then to the specialists? 'What specialists?', I shrieked in the taxi...sorry, Nya. She had no idea. We had no idea. But I knew then that I was just going to have to wait and when they called me would be when they would call me. It's a very typical reaction of mine now. I go absolutely nuts for about an hour, then calm down and carry on as normal and everything is fine again...

So Friday also came and went. I checked the website about a gazillion times over the weekend. I was also moving apartment (NEVER, EVER AGAIN!) and had our Christmas party that Saturday evening. Naturally, I checked myself into the fancy hotel and just indulged. When you are awaiting news of your potential child-to-be, what else is there to do?? Luckily, the weekend did pass quickly as I was so busy moving.

Monday arrived. I was just lining my kids up outside for play when my phone went. I screamed at my assistant to take the kids, almost vommed as I answered with sweating, shaking hands and the gorgeous human on the end of the phone asked that I go to the office that afternoon to handle some paperwork as I was approved to be this Tiny Human's mummy. I asked her to repeat it. Then I started bawling my brains out in my classroom, all on my tod, and asked her just to clarify that this was indeed what she was saying. 

Yes. You are approved. You are the designation for NN. 

The world hasn't stopped spinning round my head since Monday. I've had an appointment with the delightful psychologist who was the one absolutely hellbent on the fact that children want TWO PARENTS, MARIANNE! In. Yo. Face. There's a pile more complication because I'm going home for Christmas but as he's waited 2 years and 7 months to get a mummy, I don't think he'll mind if I go and see my mummy and daddy first. There's also the absolute hilarity that I had to submit ANOTHER LETTER. This one is to accept their acceptance. I shit you not. I have to write a letter and deliver it to say thank you for accepting my request to be his mummy, I also accept your acceptance. It's in. I don't know what the next step is because I never know the next bit...only the bit I'm on. But, with any luck and without any complications, my little boy will be home with his new family early next year. I can't wait. 

The thing that sticks in my head right now, as I told my big sister who has been an absolute pillar of support and encouragement through this whole process, is that I do not feel alone in this at all. My village have just been oozing love and support all over me and my son (MY SON!!!!) and none of us can wait till he comes home and joins our huge family. So, thank you, from the very, very bottom of my heart and to all eternity, for being here for us. Every one of you. xxxx