Lucy's language

I am fascinated by the aquisition of languages. For some it comes easy to speak and learn multiplelanguages. Others struggle to just speak coherantly intheir native tongue. But, as a child developmentmajor, I spent a little time learning about howchildren aquire language, and I think it is absolutely amazing.

Being here in Vietnam we've had the pleasure of meeting a few families whose children are bilingual.They speak fluent Vietnamese and English. We saw this phenomona in Sweden as well(though the language was Swedish, of course, and English), and several of our Dallas friends could speak easily in Spanish andEnglish too. From infancy, we learn language. We hear words spoken and our minds work hard to figure out what they mean. At first it is just sounds, and then we add frequency to those sounds, and then the sounds become attached to a feeling or a person, so then we have context for the sounds to have purpose in communicating our needs and feelings. The entire process is a miracle. I wish I had been more mature my freshman year in college, and had actually paid attention to the linguistics class I practically bombed, where I could have learned about words in their context and their origins. I think now I would enjoy that a lot more than then (late night study dates at the library had a lot more to do with cute guys than good grades. How embarrasing in retrospect).

Enter us, into Lucy's life. Here we come, exuding true love and adoration for our amazing little daughter. We hold her, we love her, and we talk to her-in our native language. But Lucy is now 5 months old, and for these past 5 months she has not heard our language spoken by one her loves or cares for her. The two things are difficult for her to reconcile; she feels our love and responds to it, but already our language is foreign. I can see this in her, in the way she turns her head when a Vietnamese woman begins to speak to her. She looks, with open eyes and deep concentration as she hears her native tongue-and then she looks at me. She hears me speak to her, and confusion comes across her face. My sounds are out of context for her. They don't equate to language yet; they are sounds alone. Soon, because she is so young, my sounds-and those of her daddy, siblings and loved ones-will become familiar enough to form patterns and be language. But, for now, Lucy is confused as to why the person who loves her the most can't "speak" to her with the sounds and patterns she is comfortable with.

Oh, how I wish I could speak to her with those very sounds and tones. This language is not only complex to me gramatically, but tones are a huge part of this it, and they are unforgiving. Say the same word with the wrong tone and you haven't said anything at all. And there are no "A's for effort" in Vietnamese. Eitheryou say it right, or you are just an idiot making noises (one of the common tones, seriously, is the sound that Homer Simpson makes when he has done something stupid 'dough'...try using that with a straight face!). So, I can't even begin to try. Every effort to say thank you in Vietnamese is met with a giggle. Every time I try to direct a cab driver I'm met with a blank stare. I cannot get this language; not in a million years.

But that is exactly where Lucy has the edge, and it is the point of this post. My facination with Lucy and her language is that she has heard the tones from her birth-she knows them like you and I know the sounds of vowels and consonants-already. And they'll stay locked up in that beautiful mind of hers while our sounds come forward and she learns our language. So, someday, if she is very lucky, Lucy will have the chance to try Vietnamese, and the tones and sounds will be dead on. Fascinating, absolutely fascinating to me, the luck of this little girl to come to this land and be preprogrammed for its language before she is taken away. If she does revisit Vietnamese, she will be able to speak with 80 million people in their native tongue. As many people speak her language as French or German. What a gift, and she doesn't even know she's been given it.

For now all Lucy knows is that the person she loves doesn't sound quite right as she holds and feeds and cares for her. She feels my love but doesn't understand my words-and that is o.k. for now. Someday it will be the Vietnamese that sounds foreign, until in her desire to learn it all those tones are sounds that are unlocked by her wonderful mind.

Things I've Come to Know

Coming to Vietnam has been an amazing adventure and a life changing experience. I am thankful and humbled this journey to bring Lucy home has brought me here. But, after being away from my children and home for almost 5 weeks, a few little things have occurred to me. I'm sure these thoughts probably wouldn't have entered my mind had I not been gone so long or at this particular time of year, so even as I write I don't want to seem ungrateful. Sometimes we need to be shown the blessings we enjoy through their absence.

First, I love staying home with our children. I have come to realize that the choice John and I made 12 years ago for me to set aside career plans per se and pursue the art of raising children full time was not only a sacrifice of possible earnings and worldly credibility, it was an amazing privilege. Being here I've come to see that being a "stay at home mom" is the fantasy of so many women who literally slave away up to 18 hours each day, 7 days a week to provide shelter and food for their families. These long work hours are still not enough to provide their children with formal education or the hope of a better future. I can see more clearly that our choice, while a sacrifice of sorts, was clearly not a choice that is in any way available to most of this world's mothers.

Second, I feel so incredibly overwhelmed to enjoy the comforts that we do as a family. We have a green patch of grass where our kids can play, a reliable automobile we can all fit safely inside of, a garden where I can grow tomatoes and lavender, and a lovely home that is saturated with my personal taste. We enjoy the bounty of commercialism in the access we have to delicious food, adequate and even "above grade" clothing, and a little free time to use at leisure. My kids, while they sometimes chose to, are not forced to play in the streets, and I am not forced to send them away to play while I work-unfortunately sometimes I forget that my kids ARE my work, and I send them to play anyway...We by no means go without, and I hope I have changed enough to remember this two or three weeks after I return to my life of comfort.

Also, I feel humbled to have choice concerning the size of my family and the way I raise my family. I can choose my own religion, and I can choose my political party. I can choose who to vote for, and I have the right to speak out for what I believe in. We Americans take this privilege completely for granted, and I hope I can amend this in my own life.

I have also come to appreciate even further the absolute blessing of education. My kids can go to school each day and learn. It is part of the package that comes with being an American. What's more, they are EXPECTED to be at school, and I am expected to get them there. My kids are just not capable of knowing the possibilities that lie before them because of their education. I so wish I could bring to my children the feelings I have had about the blessing of receiving an education.

I've learned I have true friends. So many have been so indulgent in reading these posts; so many have offered help in so many ways. As I was helping at the English class tonight one of the students asked me if I liked meeting people in Vietnam. I told this handsome young man that I felt that people were the greatest reason to live on this earth. That the opportunity to meet, help and love others is the greatest gift we have in this life. So many have given this gift to me. I feel so loved, so lifted, by so many of you. Thanks for making me feel so special, so valued-and through me showering Lucy, John and my entire family with the gift of YOU. Friendships are treasures, each priceless and worth keeping.

And Last, I absolutely love my family-my children, my husband, my parents (including my in-laws) my siblings and my nieces and nephews, grandparents and aunts and uncles, cousins and ancestors. One thing this culture teaches beautifully is that we totally owe the good we are to our family. I get to sit down and write this blog, while my mom slaves away in the states making sack lunches for my kids to eat at school. My sisters have come to my home-cleaned my house, tended my garden and played with my kids. John's mom has been invaluable in spending time with her grandkids when they've needed extra hugs and love. My dad has rearranged his busy work schedule to accommodate our being away so long. My grandparents have sent encouraging emails, my aunts and cousins too. John, of course, is my greatest source of strength and support. He is the most unselfish individual I have ever known, and he has shown me pure love throughout my life with him. He placed faith in me as we waded through years of trying to find this little Graham, and his support has never wavered.

We have been held up by our family-they have placed faith in us that Lucy is meant to be a Graham and with that faith in us alone they have loved her without meeting her. They are my greatest source of support and strength, aside from my personal faith in Jesus Christ and the comfort and guidance of the Holy Ghost in my life. My greatest gift, my pearl of great price, is my family.

These are things that I now know-and for these things alone I will always be thankful for 5 weeks spent in Vietnam.

A chance to do some good, kind of

Last Monday as we nervously waited to attend our Visa interview, we wandered around the city streets for a while, wasting time. Upon our return to the hotel, John noticed a group of retired couples visiting inthe lobby, happily speaking 'utah english'. This is, I believe is a true language, and is worthy of its own post, but not now. Anyway, John recognized the familiar speak and interjected to the group that he thought they might be mormons. They were flabbergasted, and replied in the affirmative. Then John admitted that he was a mormon too-and they had a little chuckle. Our religion is wonderful, and like all others, it comes with its own little culture. You kinda have to hang around mormons to "get them" in some ways, because our faith is our life. It is who we are, and it pervades all parts of what we do(hopefully in a way that honors our belief in a loving God and our Saviour, Jesus Christ). What a funny coincidence to meet other mormons in a hotel lobby inHanoi! So, having made introductions all around we learned that these were a group of service missionaries, volunteers from our church who are in the country to perform service. They do not proselyte, in fact they even promise that they will not mention the name of Christ or their religion in any of their charitable acts. They simply go about doing good. This year, our church re-built a school in Hue that had been destroyed by a hurricane. These missionaries oversaw the building of that school, and just attended its dedication. They have worked hard to provide over 1000 wheel chairs to victims of agent orange this year. They work to provide help to orphanages, and they volunteer as teachers to students wanting to learn English. They are couples whose kids are grown, but who want to give their time in improving the world. They support themselves while on their missions, and they miss important and wonderful things like the birth of a new grand baby or the graduation of a child from college. Their entire families sacrifice so they can give 18 months of their time to better this world. And I want to be just like them when I grow up.

Tonight, I got a tiny taste of what that will be like. Sister Berry, one of the missionaries, invited me to help her teach an English class to a small group of teenagers. She wanted me to bring Lucy, and to converse with the kids about adoption, what it is and how it has affected our lives for good. I felt so happy that I could do some thing to contribute to the people of this country in any way, and just to feel useful, I was thrilled to be invited. We drove from the hotel to a small building where we waited for the students to arrive. These kids range in age from 13 to17, and they are Vietnam's best and brightest in my opinion. Their parents sacrifice and work so they can attend school during the day, and then they have sought opportunities to learn English at night. I believe our church's charity funds this class, or subsidises it at least, so the expense is at a minimum. But the kids have to work hard, and they are coming along very nicely. One of the girls is an accomplished pianist. One of the boys is a son of chemistry teachers, and hopes to follow in his parent's footsteps one day. You get my drift, these are kids who want to get some where, and they are not afraid to work in order to get there.

They are also beautiful, and very fun.

We had a great time, I spoke a lot about Lucy. I showed them pictures of all my kids (one of their questions was what did I do for a living...they simply could not get the concept that my job was to be home-no mother in Vietnam is afforded the luxury ofstaying home with her children. How blessed I am). They were kind and spoke of how beautiful my family is and how nice my husband must be. It was a very enjoyable hour. Part of the class was spent explaining the process of adoption. Some of the kids didn't even know what adoption was. Sister Berry had thought this might be the case. She has made a promise not to share her religious beliefs, but my opinion is that she hoped the kids would see in our experience with Lucy as an alternative to the very often encouraged alternative to adoption, abortion. So we spoke of how glad we were to have Lucy become part of our family.And how much I admire Lucy's mom for making the choice to complete the pregnancy and try to give Lucy abetter life by placing her with the orphanage where we could adopt her. I wondered what the kids thought of it all-I learned a great deal from them.

In the end, I took their pictures with Lucy-wish I could post it but it doesn't work from Hanoi. They thanked me for coming and promised to email me and write me letters. They seemed to be glad I had been there.

But I was the one who was glad. Glad to see the best of Vietnam sitting in a small classroom. Glad to see joy in the hopes of teenage kids, glad to hear themtry something hard as they speak a foreign language totheir peer group. Glad to remember that staying home with my kids isn't a conceivable career choice for 90% of the world's mothers, and glad to have felt that sticking around Hanoi for a few days might not be in vain. I'm definitely the one who got the education tonight.

Hello,we went back to the embassy today around 3 p.m. andpicked up Lucy's visa and packet. We can officially gohome!!! It is sad that the man at the embassy wasunwilling to take the extra 30 minutes to make it soYESTERDAY, as now we hang out and just wait for aflight out. But, to walk out of the office with hervisa/passport andpapers was like floating...I'm sohappy she is legit, to the Vietnamese government andto my government.I love you all, I'll be checking email prettyregularly, as the cleaning ladies in the businesscenter love Lucy and grab her when I walk in.John, could you post this note on my blog? I can'taccess it from here.

Hanoi

Flying from Ho Chi Minh City into Hanoi has felt like flying from Berlin to Vienna. Ho Chi Minh was bustling, never sleeping, never stopping. Construction everywhere you turn. Commercialism in bloom. Everybody going somewhere. A town on the move, with an eye to the west.

Things here move a little more slowly. It is smaller, more relaxed, even a little less “weathered”. We are staying in a hotel right in the middle of the French quarter, a very quaint part of town where French colonial days are reflected in the architecture and the pastry. People seem content here, taking time to sit by the lake, closing their shops to spend time with family or friends, preserving and upholding time honored traditions and Vietnamese ways. A town quietly content with its Eye to the East.

I hope I don’t get to know this city too well. Not because it doesn’t seem wonderful, it does. I just think its time for me to move on, to go home. While part of me wants desperately to explore Ha Long Bay and walk the roads of the central provinces, my eyes are definitely to the west, and my heart is there too-in the Mountain west to be exact. Where my Grahams wait, in their busy life that seems to be never sleeping, never stopping, with a feeling that things are under construction-or should I say destruction- all the time. My blog from Hanoi must be discontinued until another trip, and this trip must be over. Time to go home; I just wish it was today instead of Friday. 

I’ve been wondering…

It has been 4 weeks tomorrow, since we left Salt Lake to come to Vietnam. So many things have been on my mind here; how to care for Lucy and how to help my Utah Grahams to feel pleasantly distracted as we are away so long, how to navigate our way through the adoption hurdles and how to cope when things don’t go the way we’d like. John and Mason get on the plane in about 30 hours. I so wish I was leaving with them…and as they get ready to go and we talk about all that they must shoulder when they get home I can’t help but wonder about all I’ve missed being so far away from the people I love so much for this long. You have all been so indulgent, reading these public journal entries and following our experience. But it is one sided, my sided, and I am wondering how you all are doing;

Has Natalie Dutson had her baby? Did all go well? Congratulations! Laura Asay, what are you going to do with your self this year now that your PTA Presidency is through? Macy, did you get into the St. George Marathon? Diane Day, how are you? How is Elizabeth Flynn doing? Has school started in Boise yet? How was the first week for Grace, Read and Haily? Aaron, are you back in the classroom? I can’t wait to see your stairs, I’m sure the bedroom will be done so soon, you and Jody are amazing! Katie, how are you feeling with a new baby on the way? I can’t read your blog from Hanoi! Do I still have tomatoes on the vine at home, will they still be growing nicely when I finally return? Mom G., can Sheralee go with you to Mexico? Linda, have you started the house yet? How is your family? Susie, have you sold your house yet? I’m sure it will happen fast! Jenna, when do you go back to school? How did you fracture your foot Brooke? Was it the trek? Are Peter and Lucy sleeping through the night yet Jody? How about Samuel? How are my cub scouts doing-I feel like such a slacker, but I want the boys to know that I think about them a lot and I still have king size candy bars for them when they can say the scout oath and the scout promise perfectly memorized! I wonder how Holly Bludworth is doing, and also I want to say thank you to Sarah Burton for all she has done to help my mom while I’ve been gone! I’m sure I need to thank Katie and Sarah Flynn too, and countless others. Jen, how are your classes this semester? Jess, how does my garden grow? When are you going to get yourself a real bike so we can ride together? You need a good bike my sweet. And so does Amanda-as soon as she’s had the baby. How are you Amanda? Have you picked a name for Ruby yet?

What will I miss on the first day of school? How will the jet lag be for Lucy? How will the flight be for Lucy? When will they give us her travel visa? What will Mason read on the flight? (he has finished 7 books on this trip!). What new friends will Brynley make this year in school? How long will it be before Madison begs for a longer school day (all day will not be enough for her!). When does preschool start for Porter? Will Molly have a hard time getting used to a little sister (the answer to this question is already known, YES). How will John manage the house and the kids with me away? How will I manage the house and the kids when I get home? How much longer can my mom manage to help John before we drive her batty? Will I spend our anniversary in Hanoi? Oh, I hope not…

All these things, and so many more, are rattling around in my head. How grateful I am to have friends and a life that is so full. Thanks for giving me so many great things to wonder about. I am ready to get back to it, and to bring Lucy into it. I hope to ask all these questions in person and to hear all these answers, and more, very soon! 

Lucy’s first plane ride

Appearantly John has blogged about Lucy’s first plane ride, perhaps casting a negative light on the entire experience. I don’t know what he published, because in Hanoi we cannot access our blogs accept to post things-so I will have to read his observations when we return to the States.

I just want to document that Lucy has now officially traveled away from her birthplace, she has begun her “move” so to speak. None of my children have lived in their place of birth for very long before we’ve made a move. I find it kind of interesting that Lucy is no different. Ironically, we had to do a lot of moving (moving heaven and earth that is) to get over here, get Lucy, and get her moved home. She did pretty well on the flight; accept for the last 15 minutes she was a dream. Knowing I will likely travel many many many hours with Lucy in the coming week or so, I tried to keep thinking; “o.k., she is going for my lunch tray, how will I trouble shoot this from Hanoi to Osaka?” or “better be sure to pack the diaper bag under the seat in front of me. I’ll never be able to get to it from the over head bin with Lucy in my arms…” and so on. It was a good trial run, even though I handed off to John to eat the plane food (a mistake, should’ve passed on that one…) and had him help when I made her a bottle (those seats don’t leave much wiggle room, do they?)

Lucy is not the first new born I’ve flown long distances with. Bryn will nare remember the flight from Chicago to Salt Lake City to surprise her Grandparents with a visit from their newest granddaughter. Madi was about 8 weeks old when we flew her to Costa Rica, accompanied by her parents, to see some wonderful friends of her dad from his missionary days there. Madi also flew over the ocean to Sweden and Back before she was even a year old. And Porter made his first flight when he was about 2 months old, going from Dallas to Salt Lake for our first annual cousin camp. I’ve made the rounds with our kids in the air before, you’d think I’d feel like a pro. Some of them traveled better than others, but they’ve all traveled and I l survived to tell about it. Bringing Lucy home will be no different, I’m sure. 

A Loop-T-Loop

We finished our interview with Immigration today at the Department of State. We leave for Hanoi on Saturday morning. We are hoping for an interview with the Embassy, to obtain Lucy's Visa, very soon. It was such a happy surprise with the officer at our interview said our facilitator could pick up our approved packet this afternoon-we are on our way...Here we goooo!!!

A Ride on the family motorcycle

A few weeks ago I got an email from my sister in law (hi Katie!) describing an outing she took our kids on with my brother Tyler. They loaded up the Utah Grahams in the family suburban (o.k., just understand, I am not a huge SUV loving gas hog American; I just have 6 kids and all their friends and stuff to haul around. A minivan just doesn't cut it any more..). So, they loaded our kids in the family Suburban and took them for a treat. Then we went out, and I observed the same type of activity here in Saigon-only minus the huge SUV. This (see the picture above) is the family car here in this city of millions of people. We have seen mothers holding newborn infants in their arms as they ride with their toddler sandwiched between dad on the motorbike. We've seen little children sitting in ratton "high chairs" which are placed at the head of the motorbike, just where an adults legs might rest, as they drive the streets to their destination. Women in dresses ride "side saddle" and often carrying loads of packages or groceries in their arms. The many women who wear the traditional Ao Dai look so regal as the silk top flutters in the wind, with the long silk pants keeping things modest. The only thing I haven't seen riding these bikes, unfortunately, are motorcycle helmets. Appearantly motorbike accidents are one of the leading cause of injury or death to Vietnamese children. But a campaign is under way to change that, and make the bikes a more safe mode of transportation for all those little bodies.

I've thought a lot about this, wondering how I would cope in my daily life if i didn't have the convenience of an air conditioned automobile to carry all my kids from one place to another. It occurs to me that my daily life is just so terribly different, and much of that is because I have the convenience of my car. My kids can go to a soccer practice in a carpool exactly because I own a car that can carry them. I can visit my sister on a regular basis precisely because I can toss the kids in their seats, buckle them up and speed down the freeway blasting kids tunes like I was a rock star. My car (and the roads, traffic laws and freeways that I drive it on) make my life inexpressively different, and I think I'm o.k. with that. I think I like the freedom of choice I gain because of that gas guzzling monster of a kid carrier.

But, I will tell you, that I have a deep and secret wish to cruise around these streets on a motorbike. The fun I would have zig zagging my way around pedestrians as I zoom around corners and speed along the sidewalks would be adrenaline pumping and oh so memorable. Zoom Zoom! 

An Important Correction

I want to make a correction to my "venting" yesterday on the blog. In my emotion I expressed frustration that it seemed families who had used unlicensed agencies had been aloud to complete their adoptions. This, I have been informed, is not at all true. All families who have been aloud to finish adoptions here in Ho Chi Minh, and in all other provinces I'm aware of, have had signed agreements with licensed agencies for those adoptions to be complete.

I am very sorry to have published anything incorrectly. Nor did I mean by my frustration to imply that I am not sympathetic to any family who, unknowingly, began their adoptions with an agency that had dishonestly led their clients to believe they were legally licensed in Vietnam.

I hope all families, and the government of Vietnam, as well as my own government, would forgive any misrepresentation I published here in my moment of emotion.

Please Keep Your Hands and Feet inside at All times until the Ride comes to a Complete Stop...

This is the theme for our trip to Ho Chi Minh City. What a roller coaster ride of experiences and emotions. Yesterday I felt at the lowest point, with no hope for return home with Lucy on Monday night, after hearing that our Department of State Interview would certainly not happen before then. Well, the ride, as it were, has taken a sudden turn-we received a call today telling us to be in the hotel lobby at 11:15 a.m. tomorrow (Friday here) so we could go to the Consulate for our interview! Does this mean that Lucy and I will fly across the sea on Monday? probably not. We still have a passport to obtain, and a Visa interview that generally requires 48 business hours to schedule. There aren't enough hours for us to make it. But, perhaps we could at least escort John and Mason to Hanoi, where they catch their flight home. And, maybe, it means we can obtain the visa in time for Lucy and I to be on the Friday flight instead of the Saturday flight-so many small bumps and turns still ahead as we navigate the ride.

But, last night at this time the tears were falling, and tonight I feel to smile. What will tomorrow bring? Don't know, but my hands and feet are definately staying in a safe spot as we finish up this ride to bring our Lucy home! Wheee...

Lucy's medical exam

Lucy and her little friend Kierra attended their adoption medical exams today. Lien accompanied us as we had the babies weighed and measured. The doctore consulted each baby's mom about feeding schedules, tempermant and general disposition. Heather, Kierra's mom, was kind enough to snap a few pictures of Lucy during her exam. Heather has been a very kind photographer for us, capturing things we had not thought of for Lucy to treasure later. Thank you Heather!


a Few Parting Shots

John and Mason have about 96 hours left in Vietnam. We've been trying to determine if there are any experiences we wanted them to have before they left for home. Can't really think of many, accept that I notice John holding Lucy every chance he gets. Mason has been a little less reluctant to accompany on our walks in the city-and he'll even hold my hand a bit as we venture. Tender kisses on the cheek from my sweet husband have come a little more often and the words of encouragement and advice both from me to the boys (now remember, hold Bryn as often as you can, and please get the kids up in the mornings...) and from the boys to me (stay in after in gets dark and remember to come home, don't forget we need you once we leave and you and Lucy have run of the place on your own...). Sometimes the anticipation of separating can be a tender time to remember how great it has been to be together, and can help as a sweet reminder of a reunion yet to come. The day all the Grahams are under the same roof again (all 8 of us!) will be a sweet day for sure.


Thoughts on Home

We found a new restaurant her in Saigon; Texas Bar-b-Que. We walked there for the first time on Monday and enjoyed a fine lunch of pulled pork, texas ribs and a cheeseburger for Mason. We to come back again today we liked it so well. It is a pretty sureal experience to sit in the middle of Ho Chi Minh City and listen to country music blast through the joint as the Vietnamese wait staff struts around in fringed shirts and big belt buckles. As my eyes were wandering through the restaurant, trying to keep half an eye on Lucy (the wait staff at all the restaurants have taken to her, and scoop her out of our arms when our food is served. Mason is quite protective of Lucy in these circumstances, and we have started sitting across from each other, so each of us can keep an eye on the wandering waitress wherever she takes Lucy through the restaurant) I spotted this map of Texas. It got me thinking about that great state and how blessed I feel to have lived there in my life. I thought of Laura Asay, a true big sister and best friend, of my days learning spanish from the wonderful women of our church congregation (hola Hermanas con la Iglesia!), of Mark and Ev Taber, Chuck, J., Molly, John Scholl and so many other amazing men and women from John's office with BCG. I thought fondly of Evans and Judy Mank, our heaven-sent neighbors and dear friends. Evans taught me how to grow things (I'm getting to be a pretty decent gardner Evans, come and eat some of our tomatoes, would you?) and he let Mason and I tend his birds back in the day. Evans and Judy taught us many fantastic lessons, not the least of which was that adoption is a wonderful way to create a family. I thought of Miss Sandy of the Dallas Cooperative Preschool. I swear Brynley cries for Miss Sandy at least once a month, and we moved away from her almost 4 years ago (we love you Dallas Co-op!). Dallas grew us into Sweden, and then Sweden grew us back into Dallas. I'm so thankful to a loving God for the richness of our friendships there and the experiences we had because we were led to hang our hats in Texas. Who'd have thought that lunch in Saigon would stir thoughts of hot summer days and life in the Big D. Thank you Texas; what a great state.

Roots Exposed

I've passed by many trees like this as we walk the streets of Saigon. They have beautiful shiny leaves and the way the branches weave out is interesting and unique. But it is the roots of the tree that I always look at. The roots are so exposed. So uncovered, so raw.

It has made me think about my own roots. How often do I expose them, and in what way?

I came from a pioneer heritage. My roots are full of men and women who made great sacrifices to provide a life for their families that would bring them the prospect of freedom to worship Jesus Christ without persecution. Some of these amazing people gave their lives in these efforts, and others suffered greatly as they tredged on, carrying a weight of grief and loneliness while they slowly moved ahead. Only finding peace and comfort in their love of God, and their faith in Jesus Christ.

I carry the name of a pioneer girl whose mother, father and brother all died on the trail, after surviving a trek across the ocean from England to America. How alone she must have felt as she walked along the prairie, in the cold, without the comfort of her mother's arms around her; and knowing that her mother would comfort her no more in this life. How did she do that? The pains of loss she carried must have been so hard for her to bear. But bore them she did, and with enough dignity, charity and grace that she has become family lore.

Do I expose those roots, her roots, when I wallow in my sadness at being seperated from my family, knowing, unlike she did, that at some point I will be reunited with them again? No. Hers are roots I'd like to expose, to be a strength deep down within me now as I have hard things to face.

And then there are other roots down deep within. A grandmother who raised her family, moving from house to house in the outback of Australia. Fighting to teach her children their "American heritage" and working to share her religious beliefs with anyone who would hear, trying with all her might to keep her family stalwart and strong, and together. I remember my dad saying that Grandma didn't want any of her kids marrying an Australian-she didn't want them living that far away from home! And she did this without girlfriends, without her sisters to call and comiserate with, without a church congregation to rally around her when times got tough. She had her husband, her children, her faith, and her own two hands to keep her going.

Do I expose those roots when we move to new places, meet new faces and settle our kids into new situations? Do I expose those roots when I face the challenge of loneliness, or the discomfort of realizing that I'm required to step far out of my comfort zone to bring my family together? Do I think about those roots when I consider the things I need, the things I really need, to keep my children stalwart and strong?

This is a time when my roots are exposed. I hope they reveal the strength, conviction, grace and charity of those who have done it before me, whose lot was more difficult, less comfortable, and more challenging than mine. I want to make them proud, to stand with them and not buckle. Someday, I could be the roots that will hold up the lives of my children and their children after them if I go back to my roots now. So that in the hour when their roots are exposed, they can draw upon my life, to know they can make it, like I did. I'm so thankful for the strength I gather from those who went before me, the ones who were strong, the ones whose roots bare me up at this time. It is because of them that I can work now to be the roots for those who come after.

The Lotus Flower

A woman comes to the sidewalk each day between our hotel and the market. She brings with her flowers that she sells to passers by. There are many flower shops in the Market, and the colors and arrangements are bright and intricate. But this little woman brings the Lotus to sell, and I've not seen any other flowers of this kind accept for at her feet, as she trims them and bundles them, hoping someone will notice her and cave in to their beauty.

This flower is considered a national treasure; its beauty represents the beauty of a nation and culture that is thousands of years old. I have wondered why the flower shops don't sell them by the bunch, is it considered taboo to sell such a rare and beautiful symbol of Vietnam? But, I'm so glad the little woman brings her lotus flowers each day, for me to see as I pass by. They are delicate, they are pink, they catch the rain or the morning dew in a way that enhances their beauty. They begin a closed, green bulb, and then they unfold to reveal delicate pink petals and a distinct green "heart" in their center. I think they are breathtaking, and I had to share them with you! Thank you Lotus lady, for sharing this Vietnam beauty with me. 

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Well, we have been given some bad news today. We thought that a successful 'G&R' would mean smooth sailing through the rest of the process and that we'd all be home safe and happy this coming Monday. Today, we've learned that because of some back ups within the U.S. State Department, Lucy and I will not be on the plane home. We had been told that our interviews with the Consulate here in Ho Chi Minh City could be scheduled with 24 hours notice. This would have fit our time frame just right. leaving the promised 48 hour turn around necessary to have our second U.S. interview with the embassy in Hanoi to take place Monday.

Well, there are 9 families ahead of ours in line for an interview here in Ho Chi Minh City, and the officer who is perfoming the interviews has said there is no hope to be scheduled before Friday. Even if the interview can take place by Friday, we will not have had time to request the second interview by Monday morning. I even went so far as to call the Embassy in Hanoi. They were sympathetic to our cause but could do nothing for us. Their schedule for Monday is completely booked, and they cannot put a family on the schedule until after that family has been approved by the Consulate in HCMC. So, no chance for a Monday interview in Hanoi, no chance for a Monday flight home for Lucy or her mom.

I felt so frustrated with the Vietnamese process, because it seemed arbitrary and random. No two cases were handled the same way. Some families processed by unlicensed agencies sail through the process and other families who use licensed agencies are delayed. There was no transperancy, no "fairness" to the system.

So, how can I be upset with my own government, when it works completely on the premise of being fair? How can I be angry that we are not at the front of the line, when I know full well that other families have taken their place in the line before us, and it would not be fair for our case to be placed before theirs. The fairness of it makes this a sad post for me, believe me. But, at least I know where we are in the line. I know that another family will not be placed before us, I know that our turn will come and I know that the man who interviews us will go to work each morning, put in a full day's work and do the job he is paid by my taxes to do.

But, it sure is a let down. We truly thought that we could all get on that Monday flight, by the hair of our chinney chin chin. So, knowing that our best hope now is for Lucy and I to fly home all the way next Friday is like being told we have to put Christmas off a week just as we are hanging up the stockings on Christmas Eve.

I don't know how to bear it. I don't know how to ask my Utah Grahams to bear it, let alone my parents and our family who is holding up the load at home. I have no understanding of why this is happening, but it is happening. I am crying, I'm sure I will cry more in the coming week. But it will be over. We will come home. We'll live through it all and somehow it will make us stronger. (I pray the Lord will help us become stronger through it. More patient, more humble, more willing to trust Him.)

I'm hoping tomorrow will put us one step forward again. Today it was two steps back. But at least that doesn't mean a "g&r re-do". At least Lucy is truly ours in the eyes of the law. And she will remain that way, no matter how many steps it takes to get her home.

I'm speechless

I have to post the whole story about John running through the streets with 20 minutes notice to get us into the cab. I'll have to post another story about Mason, Lucy and I wandering the streets so John can have a quiet hotel room to work from. I'll have to write an entirely new blog to explain my feelings at knowing that as of 5 p.m. the Vietnamese government has given us Lucy forever.

They gave us 30minutes to get to the justice department. It took 15 minutes to sign the papers. No words were spoken. Someone had to tell us we were finished. Lucy is now, according to Vietnam, our daughter.

We will sprint through the next 3 days; passport request, Department of State interview, Medical interview. Then we pack, and fly to Hanoi. If the State Department is merciful, we will have our Visa/Exit interviw on Monday morning, we will pick up Lucy's Visa on Monday afternoon, and we will board the plane for home on Monday night.

Your faith and prayers have brought us this far. We are speechless with gratitude. Our hearts are full. Lucy is never again to be called an orphan. She is now a daughter (sweetly said by John)

A little Class Reunion

We had a little visitor today! Keirra Cromwell, another baby from GoVap came all the way from the 8th floor to visit with Lucy today. Keirra's mom and Grandma are here, having adventures of their own as they wait for the same "G&R" ceremony we do. We were lucky enough to sign our "G&R request" forms together on the same day, and Keirra and Lucy came out of the orphanage at the same time and even shared a taxi back to the hotel (with all the rest of us crowded in around them). Aren't they a darling pair? Heather, Keirra's mom, is so kind, and it is obvious she is anxious to get home and settle in to a routine as a first time mom. Lucy and Keirra exchanged giggles and grins, and seemed happy to look into familiar eyes.

We were happy for this little visit, a nice distraction to all the waiting. I hope Keirra and Lucy will know each other, even if just through Christmas cards and "tet" greetings (tet is the vietnamese new year's celebration) for years to come. Two truly "high class" little darlings that share a similar memory of leaving the orphanage to join a loving family. 

My Sweet John

I just need to take a few minutes and exude cheese about the absolute love of my life. John is my dearest friend, my one true love. He understands me. He knows be better than anyone on this earth. He loves our children, and he has made considerable sacrifices to place me and our family ahead of career or ambition. He is endlessly talented; physically coordinated, an accomplished professional, an avid reader, a man who can master foreign languages, a gifted chef. Fiscally responsible, I know we would be much better off if I always followed his financial advice. John can converse comfortabley with CEO's and street vendors, kings and paupers alike. John is loved by all who know him, and adored by me. His self mastery is admirable, his true love for his fellow men inspirational. The happiest place I can be on this earth is by his side. With him I feel I can do anything. I know he believes in me, although most of the time I can't understand why. His faith in God is unwavering, his desire to serve Him true. This is what most endures him to me, because with his eyes fixed toward heaven I know I can follow him anywhere.

The thought of remaining in Vietnam alone to finish this process does not frighten me. It saddens me. I want to go home, and be a mom to all my children. I want to sit with John at the dinner table and hear them tell me what happened that day that was good. I want to kneel with John and our children in prayer, and hear our children learn to speak with God. I want to sneak an episode of "the Daily Show" while we fold the laundry after the kids have been put to bed. I want to put my head on his shoulder when we turn out the lights at night, and giggle in bed as we tell stories about all the cute things our kids have recently said and done as we drift off to sleep.

I love you John. I feel lucky every day to be yours. I feel just as lucky that you'd have me, and that you've kept me all this time :) . I'm forever devoted to you and feel like a princess to be called your wife. Thank you for your faith in me, and in this huge adventure to bring Lucy home. I want us to come home together; but if not, I won't fear. Because I know you believe in me. And because you believe in me, I know I will be home with Lucy soon. 

Nothing...

Zip, zilch, nada, inte, nothing from the Department of Justice today. No word on when we'll sign the papers and have the "giving and receiving ceremony" that will make Lucy our daughter in the eyes of the Vietnamese government. Our hope is fading that I will return to Salt Lake with John and Mason next Monday. Our big accomplishement today was changing our flight arrangement to keep us here in Vietnam another week. Not the most enjoyable errand. Not much fun at all.

Thank you for your faith and prayers right now. I know without them we'd truly feel beaten. But, because of them, we have resolve. We know this will not last forever. We will outlast the delays. The conviction in our hearts that Lucy belongs in our family keeps us standing strong. I felt such a sense of courage today as I read a quote from Richard Scott. "...we must trust in God and in His willingness to provide help when needed, no matter how challenging the circumstance."

I'm of the belief that God hears our prayers, and it is usually through the actions of others that He meets our needs. In this time of need for our family, so many of you have come to our aid; and have therefore been the Hand of God in our lives. Some of you have;
*read this little blog and promised to say a prayer for our family
*shown a willingness to help one or all of the Utah Graham kids while we are away from them
*moved into our home to help with the daily tasks of so many little ones (love you mom and dad!)
*been chauffer and activities coordinator, pre-school registrar and the like
*many have shown support from the beginning of this process, which started all the way back in Boise
*you've offered to come to Vietnam and "wait it out" with me should John and Mason leave before Lucy and I.
*You've graciousley given of your means for the children of the GoVap orphanage
*Some of those we've met in Vietnam have offered support and encouragement, without even really knowing us.
*Youve shown me a great example of motherhood, and that raising 6 children is actually possible, and that it can be done with grace, dignity, joy and laughter.
*You love my children. Already you've showered Lucy with acceptance.
*You've placed great trust and confidence in John, who has had to leave career responsibilities to support our family in a different way for this long while.

I'm sure that you are doing and have done many many other things as we wade through this process. And all I can say is "thanks". I'll try, I promise I'll try, to be God's hands in answering your prayers-but for now I humbly thank you for being his answer to my prayers.

Here's praying for better news tomorrow, and miracles in the form of papers to sign and the assurance that Hiep Duc Nguyen will be Lucy Evelina Duc Graham for all of her days.

A Walk in the Park

We took a walk in the park today. It takes up a full city block, and is complete with grassy patches, sculpted shrubs, and these beautiful red lanterns strung in long lines high up in the trees. John took this awesome picture, capturing the fantastic contrast between the red of the lamps and the green of the trees. Further down the lane you end up at a small Buddhist temple. Off in the corner of the park there is a new playground (a cool one at that, my four Utah Grahams would have loved it!). Many people were there, walking slowly or sitting quietly. Some were eating ice cream. What a lovely sight, to see the city slow down. To see children playing with their parents and sweethearts holding hands. This belongs in every city, a place to pause, a place to appreciate the beauty of green and growing things as you watch your children play. A place to breath, and to live well.

I hope I remember this when we get back home, to take time with our kids, hold John's hand, and live slowly every once in a while. To watch things grow and look for the color contrasts around me (like tomatoes growing on the vine, or roses budding on their bush). But for today, I'm so thankful for our walk in the park and our chance to catch to people of this country living well.

A Good Grip

Lucy has come with a very sweet personality, a warm smile and a set of beautiful eyes. She has shown us an amazing ability to withstand discomfort (being covered with scabbies is a terrible fate). And Lucy is strong, quite strong. In fact, I'm not sure I've held a little one with such a tight grip. Lucy enjoys clenching her fist around whatever she is close to; her blanket, your t-shirt, even your arm or face! This is generally endeering, as she closes her fingers tightly to cuddle close to you, and sometimes a little painful, like when she clenches a fist around your arm while taking her bottle. Ouch!

I hope Lucy's grip is an indication of a good handshake, a willingness to wrap herself around difficult tasks and tackle them, an impressive work ethic. For now, we find things to replace our skin in her clutches, and look forward to watching her grasp her future, one day at a time.

Lucy's blanket
I bought it in celebration that our paperwork was finally in the hands of our adoption agency. The purple and green blanket. The soft and fuzzy on one side and smooth and silky on the other side blanket. I shopped for it. I really wanted it to be a special gift for Lucy. Something we would bring to Vietnam with us, wrap her in repeatedly, and then bring it home with her. I wanted her to have something that would be hers here in this place, and there for her once we were home. I can't really explain why, but for some reason it was important to me that Lucy have some comforting reminder of Vietnam, and that it come with her into our family.

I found it in a small boutique in Salt Lake. The pattern, with its asian overtones, was perfect. And that it was purple and green was a total plus. Purple and green have been the overriding theme of our girl's room decor for some time, so that it coordinated was a nice little bit of serendipity; the blanket was meant to be Lucy's.

So I brought it, packaged nicely in a gossimer bag, tied with a silk ribbon bow. And as soon as Lucy had been brought out of the orphanage and placed in our arms I wrapped her in it (o.k., this is what I wish had happened; in reality poor Lucy had to be covered from head to toe in permethrin cream to rid her of scabies, so the first 24 hours she was with us we were all about getting her cleaned up. Once she was "scabies free" we wrapped her in the delicious blanket).

I know the blanket is a feeble effort. I hope that, more than a blanket, our love and acceptance of Lucy as our daughter will be felt as a comfort as Lucy's surroundings change and we bring her home. But, maybe the blanket will help Lucy some how, perhaps years from now when she looks on pictures of this adventure to bring her home Lucy will see herself wrapped in the blanket and she'll think warm and cozy thoughts of her life here, before she came home to us all.

Tan My Dinh Hotel
288 Le Thanh Ton
Room VIP I

This is the address of our hotel, and we've had to share this address with many many vietnamese "service professionals" - you know; cab drivers, pizza delivery guys and the like. The only problem is, we don't speak Vietnamese, and they don't understand my english. I've had some people here compliment me on my diction, how clearly I "pro-nun-ci-ate". But, diction is no help when it comes to saying english words vietnamese style. For example, the darling girl at Al Fresco's restaurant who takes our "to-go" order a few times a week just can't understand why I cannot say the word "eight". Here, eight is not "ate", It is "oite", and I keep forgetting this. So every time the poor dear repeats our address back I try and correct her; "No, I'm sorry, it is 2-ATE ATE". And she says; "Yes, madamme, 2-Oite Oite...sigh". I thought she had cleverly solved the problem when with our order the other night she sent a "delivery card." Now all I have to tell her is our delivery card number and she looks up our address. Our delivery card number is 1388 (yes, 13-oite oite). Thank goodness, I thought I'd never get it right.

O.k., and while we are rolling on this subject, I just have to add to my lack of verbal intelligence. As I mentioned earlier, our room number is "VIP I". Now, I have never been associated with the accronym "VIP". I believe I am a unique person with individual worth. However, I do not believe I am a "VIP". So, to be staying in "VIP I" has been a bit discomforting in the first place, it sounds too staunchy, too stuck up, too expensive. The other evening the darling order taker at Al Fresco's was repeating to me our room "number". This, she was doing, by saying "V like..." and not getting it right (remember, I can't speak english to the vietnamese...) so she was saying "V like Boy, I like ice cream, P like big". And I was trying to help by saying (o.k., not by saying V like Very I like Important P like Person) "V like Violet, I like Ice Cream and P like Purple". P like Purple? What was that? Especially since they sell P like Pizza and P like Pasta at Al Fresco's, I chose P like Purple? I'll repeat, I've never associated myself with "VIP", it's kind of thrown me off. The night the delivery card arrived, I think we finally communicated. Once I'd been asked for my room number I said "V...and darling order taker said the rest "IP I". Understanding at last!

Maybe by the time we leave here I'll be able to make some of the tones in this very interesting language. Maybe somehow I'll be able to teach Lucy to count in the language of her birthland. But, more than anything, I hope I can communicate to cab drivers and order takers the address of my hotel, in a language we can both understand...

Photo Shoot

The spots on Lucy's face were particularly faint today, so we had a little photo shoot while Mason lay resting. This little darling continues to warm our hearts, and we love having her with us. We are so anxious for the day that she is "legally" our daughter and sister. But that day will make her no more our own than she is now!

Karaoke Ron Lives Here

So, we’ve now lived in this hotel for many days, I don’t even remember how many days because it has been so many since we got here. Once you park yourself in a hotel for longer than two nights you kind of develop a sense that you live there, that you own it in a way. The people at the front desk know who you are and they know what room you are staying in. The guy that opens and closes the door (there are two guys that do this, big doors...) knows you and knows which button to push in the elevator when you come in with your 20 gallons of store-bought water loaded into your arms. The housekeepers know you well, they know how messy you are and which one of you loses the most hair in your sleep, as they change your sheets for you every day (at least every day you let them, we’ve been sick around here which has thrown our friends the housekeepers into a tizzy, they just don’t know what to do with themselves on the days we tell them they don’t have to change our sheets-so unsanitary!). So, it is a harsh realization when you have “tenants” move in next door who you haven’t encountered yet and who you don’t quite know what to do about.

You see, Karaoke Ron has moved in next door.

Karaoke Ron is a guy in “VIP II”. I’ll explain the whole “VIP” thing in another blog, it is in itself hilarious. Getting back to it, Mr. VIP II is two things; an enthusiastic singer and an early riser.

Now, the early riser part isn’t really an issue. We, in VIP, I are early risers for the most part as well. With Lucy requiring a 4 a.m. bottle and having no further sleep requirement until about 9 a.m., we are slowly acclimating back to our U.S. time zone, one feeding at a time. But, it is the enthusiastic singer part that is kind of getting me. Not only does Mr. VIP II like to sing, but he likes to sing in foreign languages, to his in-room music player, at the top of his lungs. Mind you; hotel room walls are thin, and I am well aware that Mr. VIP II is probably right now writing a post on his blog entitled “screaming baby lives next door”. But this is not his blog, it is mine, so I can tell you that Mr. VIPII has been given a new name; Karaoke Ron.

The story of Karaoke Ron is so terribly funny that I will in no way do it justice, and I do not remember all of the gory details of the story, so I’ve inserted a few of my own (please forgive me J.). Let’s just say that I have a beautiful, energetic, intelligent, kind and compassionate younger sister named Jessica. It makes sense that a woman with all of these qualities would frequently be asked on dates. Jess has been on LOTS of dates (Matt, you have no idea how lucky you are that you have snagged this girl :-) ). So, it further makes sense that some of these dates would prove to be not quite as fun as others. Well, Karaoke Ron was, for Jess, a date gone horribly wrong. This was a nice guy, who after a quiet dinner brought Jessica to his parent’s home for a one on one karaoke sing-off. When Jess politely declined the opportunity to sing a song from the “Top Gun” sound track to Ron as he sat and cheered her on, Ron didn’t take offense. Instead, he decided to give Jess a fun show, singing all of the songs on the sound track for her, one after the other, all night long.

Please don’t misunderstand, I have nothing against karaoke. It is the highlight of a whole nation, bringing giant crowds of Japanese professionals out every weekend night to karaoke bars across their country. Heck, I’ve even enjoyed a karaoke night with my cousins from Connecticut, and it was really fun. But one-on-one karaoke is a little much for me. And it was a little much for Jess. Needless to say that was a first date that did not lead to a second.

So, enter Karaoke Ron, an ocean away and now performing in Vietnamese. We’d sing along if we knew the words, heaven knows we can hear the tune. At least I know I’ll avoid any of the discomfort jess experienced all those first dates ago-I’m married, and karaoke Ron isn’t singing at his parent’s house-he’s next door. And I’m in here, with a husband, son and baby, keeping the beat and wondering when it will be time for Karaoke Ron to move on, and for a new guest to occupy VIP II.

Good Luck to the Women of Hobble Creek!

Tomorrow is August 19. Early in the morning on that day several of my dearest friends will don wet suits, swim caps and goggles. They will park bicycles and towels in "transition area 1" and place running shoes and power bars in "transition area 2". Then they will eagerly wait at the edge of rainbow lake for the signal to begin The RUSH Triathlon in Rexburg, Idaho. They will all finish with impressive race times, and will have an absolute blast talking about the experience for a long time to come.

These are some of the women of Hobble Creek, our old neighborhood in Boise, Idaho. They are multi-talented, incredibly fun to be with and full of grace and charity. They come from all kinds of backgrounds and have many varied personalities, but see the good in all those around them and contribute to the neighborhood community in an extremely positive way. Not all of these amazing women will race this year. Some have trained for a running race called "Hood to Coast" which they will participate in with a relay team. Some, have spent their summer preparing for a youth camp which changed the lives of many teenagers in the neighborhood through its planning and execution. At least one of them is having a baby this week, and one of them had a baby last spring. One is the spouse of the church congregation's bishop. Because our church has a lay clergy, he will volunteer as many as 30 hours a week or more in addition to his full time profession, and his wife will valiently serve by his side, mostly by keeping their family running smoothly in his frequent absense while volunteering in church labors as well and working as a volunteer in the school, etc. etc. One of them has organized service trips to orphanages in Haiti, and spends much of her time finding community service opportunities at the local soup kitchen et al., and then finds people to serve in those opportunities with her. Heck, one of them runs a household of six children while her husband travels for work several days a week. Get the picture that they are all amazing in their own ways?

All of these women have made a great impact on my life, and some of the very sweetest and dearest relationships I have are tied to Hobble Creek and the women there.

So here's to them! I wish them Good luck in the race tomorrow. I had planned to be with them, and had feebly tried to train without them, but the race of endurance to bring Lucy home is the race I will run this year. I hope next year this blog has a post of us all, at the end of the race. The Hobble creek women and me.

love you guys!

Delayed

Sadly, we are delayed in Ho Chi Minh City for yet another week. We enjoy it here immensely; the people, the culture and the experiences we've had have been rich and wonderful. But, we had been told by our adoption agency that this process would take around 3 weeks, and 3 weeks into it we've accomplished very little as far as the actual process goes. This is not of our chosing, which is why it is frustrating. We wait on the province to process our paperwork and hope they will mercifully allow us to legally make Lucy our daughter as soon as possible. In the mean time, John and Mason have had a bout of scarlet fever, and Lucy continues to acclimate to life with two parents and one brother in a hotel room.

We know this will not take forever, we know we will someday be home with our children, hollering down the stairs for them to come for dinner, or asking one of them to put away their toys or do their homework. We know that in the end this will be a family story, about the time we had to be seperated so Lucy could come home. We hang on to that future time, and we try to patiently wait.

We are thankful for the constant efforts of our friend and facilitator Lien. She is tirelessly working to help the process along wherever she can, and we thank her for all she does for our family. We feel it a great privilege to have her as our friend, and we are eternally grateful to have met her.

We appreciate all of your support and prayers. It has been truly touching to read the comments you've made and, frankly, to hear that you are reading this blog at all. We hope you know through these posts that we love the people of Vietnam and are thankful that this is the place of Lucy's birth, we have no malice toward the country or it's leaders. Only a longing for promises to be kept and for our family to be together again.

We invite you to lend your faith continually to this process. We feel your prayers and good thoughts. We especially now pray that our family at home will be sustained. It is so much to ask of such little children that they be separated from their parents for so long. Still, they make their way as happily as they can-and our parents and siblings and friends continually love and help them. Thanks to all of you at home who are making it possible for us to be here!

We hope we soon have great news to share, of meetings with kind officials and the aquisition of Lucy's first passport. Until then we head out for a walk. I hope we can share with you what we see when we come back to the hotel room here in Ho Chi Minh City.

A True Street Café
The street life of Saigon is fascinating to me. I hope to post the street life at night soon, but for now these pictures tell an amazing story of their own.

Here in this large city, the people are highly clever. Many of them eek out a living as best they can. Some shine shoes, some offer rides on their motor bikes, others sell fruit on the street. Many sell food, that they cook themselves, right there on the side walk.

In one of these pictures you can see such a woman. She has come from her home, balancing over her shoulder two heavy pots, suspended on each side of a strong stick or tree limb. The first heavy cast iron pot is full of fish, vegatables and broth. The second carries everything else; fresh herbs and spices, ceramic dishes, and even plastic stools for her customers to sit on while they eat. Today the woman also had a huge pile of noodles, which were cooked at home and would be added to each serving she sold to passers by. The woman takes her place on the sidewalk, and prepares coals to cook over, all the while leaving the pots strapped to the stick she will use to carry them home with. Once the coals are white hot, she boils her stew, letting the spices sell her meal to passers by. People who work in the markets or the offices near her will come out for lunch, and buy a bowl of her feast. They’ll sit on the small plastic stools and sometimes have a make-shift table where they can place their meal. They might buy soda or water from another street vendor, sitting nearby. Perhaps they’ll even indulge in a crisp waffle, freshly cooked over the coals of another woman seated down the way (those smell divine, so hard to resist!). After they finish their meal, they hand the bowl back to the chef, who cleans it using the hose water that constantly trickles from a nearby hose (these hoses are all over the city, and I can only assume they are for these very purposes, to help those who use the sidewalk to make their living). Once the bowl is rinsed, it is ready for the next eager customer.

Now, this isn’t an isolated experience on the street. This is everywhere, and it is how many of the city dwellers eat their meals. I am fascinated by so many pieces of this process. How far has she carried her cooking? Does she expect regular customers each day? Who has she left at home while she works? Or who did she bring with her (often there are little children running very near the hot coals, and many young girls helping their mothers cut the vegetables or clear the tables). Would I be willing to work this hard, leaving my home each day to sit on the sidewalk and cook over the fire? I wonder about myself when they call me “Madame” and ask me to try their meal. I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t dare. My stomach is not as strong as the people enjoying her delicious smelling soup. I instead smile at her with admiration for her work, and hope that I’d be as strong and clever as she were I in her place.

Amanda’s Amazing Gift

This is Lucy, sweetly dreaming in her cradle. But this is not a post about Lucy, it is a post about my sister, Amanda.

The adorable shirt Lucy is wearing was given to Madison, our 3rd Graham, by one of John’s co-workers back in Dallas over 6 years ago. Madi used it often, and I washed it often, and then I handed it down to my younger sister for her daughter Ella, who is now 3. When I handed down the adorable shirt it was not a beautiful, white and new-looking as it is on Lucy. As I said, Madi had worn it and I had washed it. And it is a shirt for a new born, so you can imagine all the little yellow spots that were on said shirt around the neck and legs. That is where Amanda comes in. You see, Amanda is a laundry Goddess. She inherited this trait from our mom, the Elder Laundry Goddess. Mom and Amanda can take any article of clothing, regardless of where it has been or what it has seen, and through their laundry goddess work make it look new again. They know how to concoct amazing laundry potions which take away spots and marks, and restore “newness” to old things. Amanda once told me she just likes to have her kid’s clothes “look nice”. And I love Amanda for her ability to make her kid’s clothes “look nice” (and for so many other reasons).

I did not inherit the laundry goddess gene. I never buy things full price, for I know they will be shoved into the laundry bin, full of food and play stains. I wash the laundry on a regular basis usually two loads each day and several more on Saturday with John’s help, and I even try to “spot treat” as soon as I can. But, despite my efforts, my children’s clothing does not tend to “look nice”. Instead, I am daily reminded of past experiences when I dress my kids. “Oh, this must have been what you wore to finger paint” I say as I pull out the nearly new t-shirt with the blue and orange stain. Or “You do love to play with markers…” as my child runs off with WASHABLE marker STAINS on their clothing. No, I decidedly did not receive the laundry goddess status my sister did, for reasons not yet revealed to my mortal eyes.

Which brings me back to Amanda. Not only did she make the shirt in this sweet picture beautiful and white for her daughter Ella’s use, she kept it beautiful and white for Lucy’s. And after Lucy uses it, and I feebly attempt to keep it lovely, I will hand it back to Amanda for her newest daughter, due in October, to have and wear. And Amanda will work her magic, removing all signs of Lucy and restoring the “like newness” of the garment for her little one to enjoy. And her darling will “look nice” when ever she puts it on. All Hail Amanda, Amazing Laundry Goddess! 

A crutch

I admit it, we haven't eaten straight Vietnamese food while we've been here. In fact, since we found the peanut butter and jam (delicious blueberry jam) we hav eaten it quite regularly. Now don't get me wrong, I am already looking for a Pho cook book, and Mason and I have loved all the delicious shrimp dishes. We have purchased a knife so we now can enjoy the beautiful and interesting fruits I spoke of in an earlier post, and we've tried coconut juice, winter melon juice and papaya juice just to name a few. Hot pot has been a delicious dish and the hot noodles at breakfast is a winner. But, a few "American" items have crept into our regular diet here. A little bakery by the grocery store makes wonderful whole grain bread. Pringles-most every variety-are sold in the grocery store, although it does seem they've all be shaken or dropped. And Coca-Cola has become a staple for us. Our Agency director advised us to drink one a day with one of your meals to kill any unwanted bacteria and keep us from getting sick (now what does that say about Coke? It is strong enough to act as a bacteria killer...doesn't sound like something that should be consumed in such addictive abundance, does it?). We've also found p-nut m&M's (not pictured because the photographer had recently consumed them) and even oreo cookies-but oreos just aren't worth it unless they are the HOLIDAY oreos (I love you Laura Asay, for teaching me that colored frosting between those chocolate wafers = fresh fresh and yummy). We figure we are eating so many meals here in Vietnam, we can afford to waste a few on good old fashioned american food. So here's to our crutch; pb 'n j on wheat. Bon Apetite!

Katie shops

It's all we do besides wait. We are about a block away from the giant market, and it is natural to walk in that direction whenever we need some fresh air. Shop for what you ask? Nothing, and we seem to find it too. nothing of real value, nothing we would buy if we saw it at Target in the States. But so far I think I've filled a suitcase with nothing...

Truth be told, I'm sick of shopping. I'd rather be sitting in front of government officials, thanking them for the opportunity to adopt our little Lucy. I'd rather be making hotel reservations for the Zephyr in Hanoi, our final destination on this journey to bring Lucy home. Heck, I'd rather be standing in line at the passport office trying to get Lucy's passport expedited. But, instead I am shopping, for nothing. Wonder what I'll find next time i head out...

This picture of Porter, our 4 year old, was taken with the camera the night before we left for Vietnam. I'm so glad it was. I miss you Porter! I can't wait to get home and show you your little baby sister! It will be so fun to have your swimming party with Lucy, who will you invite to come swimming? Please remember how much we love you and that we are going to come home as soon as we can. I love you silly muffin... 

A Random visitor

tonight, as Mason and Lucy lay recovering from their various illnesses, John and i spent quiet time in the hotel room. Our friend and facilitator, Lien, had come up to the room for us to fill out and sign some paperwork. Then John went down to the lobby to grab the take-out we'd ordered from a local restaurant (getting a little sick of restaurant food, by the way...). We'd been so preoccupied with the kids feeling ill and eating and visiting that we'd forgotten to lock our hotel room door. Well, as we sat watching tv, we had an unexpected visitor. A man, staying in the room next to ours, entered-dressed in his boxer shorts and a "muscle t". He promptly layed down on our bed and "passed out". It was a bit alarming at first, but we quickly realized this gentlemen had simply been out enjoying the nightlife a little too much, had lost his way and found a soft pillow and clean bed to rest his heavy head. It took 3 hotel staff to lift him off the bed and carry him to his own room, where they locked him inside for the night. While the experience began with alarm, it ended in laughter at the sight of these hotel staff hauling off the japanese tourist completely unbeknownst to him-and a personal resolve on Mason's part never to "get drunk". Kind of exciting. needless to say, we'll be a bit more careful to keep the door locked from now on!

Lucy Goes to Church

There is something so fun about dressing your baby for their first "showing" at church. Our church community is so supportive whenever a new baby arrives. My mom, who attended our home congregation yesterday with our Holladay Grahams (Hi kids!) was kind enough to pass along the well wishes of many friends there (thank you Holladay 27th Ward). Many friends from other congregations we've worshiped with in Texas and in Boise have also followed this adventure and sent words of encouragement and support. Even our fellow church members from Stockholm have added their faith to this process as we have asked so many to pray in bahalf of this experience to go smoothly.

Here, in Vietnam, we attended church services again at the small branch that we worshiped with last week. It was so fun to have the members there share such kind words of support and happiness for us as we introduced them to Lucy. We enjoyed the feeling of family there, the same feeling we've felt wherever we've attended church services throughout our many adventures. So many of the Vietnamese women came to me and hugged Lucy, asking her name in both Vietnamese and English. They were sure to point out that she must wear a hat and socks (this is a strong tradition, no matter how hot the temperature!), but their advice was given out of love for Lucy and was very easy to appreciate. We even had dinner with an American family we met at church, who eagerly indulged us as we told them the story of how we came to know Lucy needed to be part of our family. Yep, welcome Lucy, to this wonderful church where no matter who you are or where you are from you are accepted and acceptable, loved and welcomed. We've all been waiting for you! 

The Sick Ward

This is a picture of a healty, cheeky Mason. But, this is not the Mason of today. Nope, today the Vietnam Grahams were a bit under the weather.

Poor Lucy had to make a trip to the Doctor's office this morning. She'd had run a fever for two days with a stuffy nose, a cough, and a red ear. Thank goodness for a kind physician who patiently weighed and measured her (16 lbs. and 24"), explained a lot about the healing sores on her feet and face, and helped me read the mixing directions for the vietnamese baby formula we've been trying to feed Lucy! Turns out our little one has a little exima on her cheek, an ear infection and perhaps a touch of the flu. With perscriptions in hand, we left the doctor's office to spend a quiet afternoon in the hotel room, keeping Lucy on the mend.

Just when mom was feeling incredibly cooped up, Mason began to take sick too. With shivers and a slight fever, he hit his pillow for a needed nap. No! Not illness for our Mason! his prayers each night have been fervent in asking for good health to accompany us on this journey. I felt so sad for him to feel ill in any way. He rested, and after a few hours began to feel much better. Lucy, after a long long nap also woke looking and acting much more like her sweet and cheerful self. What a blessing to have illness pass over us so quickly! I hope with a good night's rest we wake to find all in the hotel room full of energy and feeling terrific! We pray that tomorrow brings us news of a giving and recieving ceremony with the Ho Chi Minh City provincial government, so we can be off and running through all the remaining steps toward a happy family reunion! Here's to a good night's rest and good news in the morning... 

Lucy Sleeps

Since Lucy's coming out of the orphanage she has had to make a few adjustments. She has come down with a slight fever and a runny nose (this is very common for babies coming to new families) and she isn't sleeping very well. But, for the moment she is peaceful and resting. We know these are very small hurdles for her to jump, and she seems to be doing nicely. It is so sweet to see her find comfort in her daddy's arms, to rest quietly on our shoulder or to sleep in our arms. We know that once we are home we will have other little bodies who need to be held (love you Porter and Molly and Bryn and Madi) so it is good that we take the time to hold Lucy now. Sleep well little one...

Lucy's home away from home

This is the super duper baby cot that personal shopper Lien brought to us for Lucy. It is quite functional, serving as a cradle, a mosquito protectant and a moveable bed. Not exactly pottery barn style, but certainly Vietnamese enginuity. 

My Father's Daughter
My parents own a small business in Salt Lake City that creates custom lighting and lamp shades. My dad has an amazing eye for design. He is honest and hard working, and he is obsessed with his job. Growing up I distinctly remember that every trip we took included some form of business (then it was interior design too, so carpet factories or window covering suppliers were fair game). After I married, the custom lighting took off, and so did the lamp shades-and my parents took off too, to lighting shows in Vegas and Dallas (they could visit us then, and write it off too!). Even when Dad came to see us in Stockholm we spent the better part of our sight seeing looking for lamp parts and suppliers (IKEA, watch your back). The shop has been our life.

So here we are, half way across the world, and I'm spotting every lighting store and lamp shade design through every shop window we pass. We walked into this store (very cool by the way) and I asked John to take a picture, just to show Dad I was thinking of him. Low and behold, the shopkeeper asks John to put away the camera. "Custom made" she says-"please no photos". Oh? Do you know my dad? Maybe you can work out some import deal with him, sounds like you two are in the same business.

wanna come to Vietnam dad? Betcha you could find some cool lighting here-I'll scout it out for you. Love, your daughter.

A little peanut in her shell

I've read a lot from adoptive moms who suggested "baby wearing" as a way to bond with baby. I liked the idea, it just felt right to me to keep Lucy close for the first while we are together as mom and daughter. Our "borrowed" Graham, Molly, came by surprise, and we were told she wouldn't be staying long. Even so, I spent many hours with her in my arms or laying on my stomach;babies just need to feel the closeness of those who love them (my hearfelt thanks Elizabeth, truly). Thankfully, Molly by Golly is still with us, and hopefully will remain for a long time to come. I'm so glad I had that time with her in the beginning, to feel her heart beating and let her feel my love and care for her. She's not so accessable now, such a busy little toddler. Those first months of cuddling were sweet indeed.

So I looked forward to "wearing" Lucy once she came. I picked this sling, called a "peanut shell" (loved the name and the very cool fabric). We tried our sling today when going out to run errands. Little Lucy curled snugly inside, we roamed about Ho Chi Min City with ease. Other than it being a bit warm for both mom and babe the sling worked great. I picture many a day with Lucy all curled up-John may even get into the act (though I think we'll have to chose a shell that is a little more "daddy-ish" for him..)


A Favorite Souvenier

A few days before we were able to bring Lucy out of the orphanage I got to purchase my favorite souvenier. No, it isn't the items pictured above, but it was an experience of relaxation and comfort from the store where they were purchased. L'Occitane is a brand name in France, they make lotions, make-up, shampoo and the like. My younger sister and I (Hi Jess!) ran into the store when we were romping around Paris on my 30th Birthday (wish I'd known about blogging then, we could have written volumes on our Parisian experience). I saw the store again in Dallas, just before we moved from there, and also in Sweden. Very upscale, very expensive. But here, In Saigon? Crazy. Not only does the store sell all its wonders at very reasonable prices, but they also offer lovely massage and facial packages at deeply discounted rates (compared to Paris or Dallas). For $39 my sweet handsome Prince treated his princess to 3 lovely hours of relaxation and pampering. The women at the counter must have seen I needed a little tlc, as they already had the package I needed readily picked out (Madamme, may we suggest the facial package that restores your youthful skin tone? PLEASE...). It was delightful. Mind you, I enjoyed this lovely souvenier of rest and rejuvination as we were desperately waiting for some kind of news about when we'd sign adoption papers. I had almost refused to go, thinking that such a nice experience might be interrupted by our facilitator calling the hotel room and ordering John to barge in on said relaxation, declaring we must hurry off to the justice department. But, with John's urging I relented. Walking in and sipping mineral water, shoes removed and enwrapped in a fluffy robe, my cares were nare removed from thought. The knots in my back and neck were worked out, and the "youthful glow" restored to my face (o.k., I've had nothing but "youthful glow" since I got here, my skin is shiny with grease and I've had more acne issues than I did through all of highschool. Mix that in with my 35 year old, non elastic and wrinkly face and you can hardly restore anything youthful, but oh how they tried:)

It was a lovely experience, and not one I could document with pictures-but this little bag and box full of lavendar lotion can serve as a reminder for a very lovely experience for this madamme in Ho Chi Min City