Surgery and I-600

Luc had surgery on his arm on Tuesday. The surgeon cut the ulna, inserted pins and a plate to hold it in place and popped the radius back into position. Eek! Luc did well, but it was an eventful week. We're all recovering from the lack of sleep! Mom Mom (Grandma) came for the end of the week while Steve had to leave for business (Thanks, Mom Mom!). (It was quite a relief to have her help--especially for the middle-of-the-night ER visit to split his cast when it was getting too tight.) Luc's arm will be in a cast for at least 4 weeks and then we'll see how he does from there. The plate will have to be surgically removed in about 6 months. Puts a little wrinkle in his summer plans!

Puppy, Saphira, and cat, Diablo, have been keeping him company on the couch! As Luc says, he's "just hangin' with the 'mals--That's animals to you, Mom". In spite of letting me know that I'm no longer hip(?!), Luc was a champ through the whole process. He lived up to his name and was incredibly brave and strong. Keeping him quiet and still, has, amazingly, not been as difficult as we thought it would. And his buddies, both human and animal, have come and quietly kept him company.

And as for Luc's little sister...
Yesterday, our agency let us know that they filed our I-600. Hooray! This is the immigration request for little Thuong Thi. We have NOT yet gotten word from USCIS (Immigration) that they received the file. Once we get acknowledgement of receipt, we wait for their approval. There are no guarantees for time frame, but, for many families, it's taking about 40-60 torturous business days.

As I write this, once again, the sun is shining through a pouring rain. This, we've decided, is the sign of her presence in our lives. We can't touch her or hear her laugh, but whenever we have word of her, the sun glints off of raindrops. Absolutely beautiful and gentle and peaceful. And in these beautifully quiet moments, I breathe deeply and I believe that she is coming home. I imagine that the rainbow we keep searching for is too large for us to see. That it is connecting us to her and that somehow she knows we are here and we love her.

If only the paperwork could keep pace...