Ouch.

It has been literally foggy here for the last three days. And it has been foggy figuratively, too. I feel like I can't even exhale without crying. No, it isn't a feeling - t is reality. My eyes leak...a lot. I am completely consumed with a feeling that I can't categorize.

Last night before our visit I sat awake and thought, no basketball, no walking to school. Maybe not even school. If the sores look bad, people will think they are contagious - they will not want to be around them. The rest of our lives. Could I do it? Is that what God wants? I listened to Rob Bell sermon and he had a guest speaker from South Africa talking about his adopted son who is now cured of AIDS. What does this mean to me? Is this supposed to help me make a decision? I know God can heal. I know God can do anything He wants to do. But it doesn't mean He will.

We went to see the boys. Vanya and Dima. Before we saw them, we went through a lot of waiting and red tape. It turns out that these boys are in a "special" orphanage (read...not a good sign). Vasya didn't know that - the name doesn't indicate it. It is an orphanage for very sick children. I SO wanted them to be misdiagnosed. EB is an incredibly rare disease. Maybe they were just wrong. We picked up people who were from the ministry of health (again - not a good sign, it means that this orphanage is not even under the same rules as the other ones).

We eventually got to the orphanage and went in to the director who was a very well dressed man who complemented us for this great deed we were doing to consider these children (what have we gotten in to?). We asked all the questions we had prepared. He answered all of them with answers that continued to lead down the path of EB. He said he had taken the boys to a leading skin specialist in Kiev and that she diagnosed the EB. Apparently, when Vanya was first born, the hospital where his mother gave birth CLOSED the hospital because they thought they had given this baby some sort of infection. It was closed for three months while they tried to figure out what the problem was with Vanya. They couldn't figure it out. Neither of the parents have anything. When Dima was born with the same thing, the mother gave them both up.

We asked about the location of the sores and if we could take pictures. (We eventually did). He brought in their doctor. We asked her about the supposed "wonder spray" that had worked on them and the director brought it in. It was Banana Boat Aloe Vera with lidocaine. Not even a medicine. The told us it made it lessen and the boys were living the high life while they had it. It made the sores go away quicker. But it did not get rid of them. They said the boys are not on any pain medication, so I would guess that the tiny bit of lidocaine relieved some of their pain. The doctor said it DID hurt them. And, did we want to see the boys? Gulp. Yes, of course.

So here we were, 5 of us in an office smaller than mine at the church. And then the doctor, too. Then two of the caretakers brought in the two boys. So now there are 10 of us in this tiny office. The boys are bundled up from head to toe but Dima has blisters on his lips and in his mouth (not a good sign). We ask more questions. Dima is tiny (stunted growth...yet another bad sign) and does not walk yet (he is a little over 2). He does not speak either (he points and grunts). It is obvious that both are very alert and intelligent. Vanya is thoroughly enjoying candy from the director's desk. Eventually, they move to the outer office and the doctor asks if we would like to see Vanya's body. He cries in pain as they take off his clothes and reveal huge blisters on his back. You could see redness all around his neck. Blisters on his head, neck, back, feet and legs. Tom was able to see that most of his fingernails were gone (bad sign). And to make matters worse, they told us that Dima was much worse than Vanya. That would be true when you see the sores on his mouth. 85% of infants with it bad, die before 2. I am surprised that Dima made it passed 2. I do believe the Ukrainian doctor diagnosed it correctly. And here we are with two adorable, intelligent, blistered, always and forever genetically messed-up boys.

What are we supposed to feel? I can tell you what we DID feel. Pity. But neither of us felt like these were our boys. But that didn't leave us feeling okay. Part of me feels like I SHOULD be able to take these boys and love them no matter what. But then I think - if they were BORN to me - if I was dealt this hand, then I could do it - but do I WANT to pick up a losing hand? I had a dream before I came about having to bury one of my children and it was more of a nightmare. I don't want to HAVE to bury a child. I don't want to sign up for pain. I don't WANT to be stretched that way!

So we left. I think our interpreter was feeling almost as bad as us. Shell-shocked I think. We had a three hour wait until the head of the department there was back. So we walked around town, went to the Lesya Ukrainka museum (Ukrainian poetess that we actually knew who she was) and went to the Orthodox church and took some pictures. We had lunch as I sat there feeling complete emptiness. God didn't whisper or yell. We just knew. And it made me disgusted that I couldn't handle it - or WOULDN'T handle it. But - we both knew. I couldn't even imagine trying to get those tiny damaged bodies back to the US. I couldn't even go forward with the thoughts. It just wasn't in my head. My heart hurt for them - I wanted to send over cases of aloe vera to them, but I didn't want to bring them home. And even that makes me feel rotten.

Eventually, some of the right people were there. We went in to a dark hall, a light room and in to another dark room that was ice cold (which seems fitting). We sat and waited and eventually were brought a paper to sign - but first, I had to translate it to English with Vasya's help. So - I had to write out why we were refusing to adopt these two boys. Why we were rejecting them. I had to write that we were unable to provide for them physically or medically - they were too seriously ill. It caught in my throat as I wrote it and I lost it. Rejected. Refused. Ouch.

I don't know why we had to go through that. Any of it. Perhaps it is so we can add two more boys to our growing list of Ukrainian boys we specifically pray for (we already pray for Misha and Alosha - two boys we wanted to adopt 4 years ago but for various reasons were unable to...but we never MET Misha and Alosha). So all of you, add Vanya and Dima to your prayer list. Pray for healing, for God's will - for a family stronger than we are to adopt them. And pray for us. I know you are - we can feel it. We couldn't have made it through that valley without you.

Not all of the right people were there - so not all of our paperwork was signed (they love paperwork and official seals here). Now we wait and we hope. The earliest we can request another appointment at the AC is Monday - and that is just a request. It can take up to 10 days to get an answer as to whether or not an appointment is granted. Our paper work is still in Zhitomir until Saturday. Monday Kostya will request the appointment and then we wait once again. I hope we can spend the next few days just being tourists and trying to categorize what we just went through in to something that makes some sense. It MAY be one of those things we just don't get on this side of heaven. I am not angry at God. I don't understand, but He never asked me to understand, just to believe that He knows what is best. And - I do.

Our spirits are bruised - but not broken. We are back at Janis's (and it feels like as close as we can get to being home). It is good to have friends on both sides of the earth covering you in prayer and loving you. Thank you.

We love you - Keep praying.