The surprise phone call comes at 8:50 am.  “Can you be ready in 15 minutes?”

Of course, of course!

The director of the adoption program picks us up.  He tells us we have another appointment at the Ministry (to receive information on a newly available child) in the afternoon, but he is taking us early, just in case they can fit us in.

No such luck.  After numerous cappuccinos and bagged pastries from the street kiosks, we enter the Ministry gates at 3:00 pm.

The little girl is a little over 2 years old.   Her mother lost parental rights just months after her daughter was born.  The girl currently lives in an orphanage to the south of Kiev in Yalta, a resort city that lies along the Black Sea, so we’ll either fly or take the overnight train to Simferopol on Saturday or Sunday, then take a car 80 or so km over the mountains to Yalta, to be there for a meeting at the orphanage on Monday morning.

There’s a catch, though.  (You thought it was going to be easy, huh?)  She has two older half brothers who live in an orphanage in Simferopol, so after we meet her and say “yes” to her, we have to travel back to Simferopol, meet her brothers, “reject” her brothers, then ask for permission to separate the siblings.  [We’re not looking forward to this part.]  We’re not clear if the siblings even know each other, since they all have an even older sibling by a third father.  The oldest brother was born in 1991 by the first father, the second in 1997 and third in 1999 by a second father, then the little girl by a third father.  The Ukraine will only separate siblings if it’s in the best interest of the child, and we have absolutely no say in that decision.

So, all we can do is hope and pray.  We’re exhausted with the gamut of emotions, as you can imagine.  And happy we have one more final chance.