Justin Cook | The Roanoke Times

A dress that Heather purchased for Maya last Christmas now wouldn't fit the baby, whose adoption has become bogged down in paperwork and a changing international law.

Justin Cook | The Roanoke Times

Heather Pence, 30, cuts lilacs with her children Kristian, 6, and Morgan, 8.

Justin Cook | The Roanoke Times

"Prayer is what is getting us through," says Heather Pence, kissing her son Harrison, 3 in their Christiansburg home.

CHRISTIANSBURG -- Above the living room entertainment center, pictures of Heather Pence's kids hang on the wall. There's 8-year-old Morgan beside brothers Kristian, 6, and Harrison, 3 -- all with the same sandy hair and toothy smiles.

Then there's the baby. She stands out with her shock of black hair, bronze skin and dark eyes.

Her name is Maya. And Heather Pence doesn't know when -- or if -- she's coming home.

The picture is all Heather has, but it was all she needed to fall in love. For now, 10-month-old Maya waits in an orphanage in Vietnam, kept from her adoptive family by immigration paperwork.

The Pences were expecting to bring Maya home by the end of last year.

Now, the phone could ring anytime, telling them to come overseas for their baby, or informing them an adoption that began nearly two years ago has fallen through.

For Heather, these past months have shown others -- and herself -- the strength of a mother's love as she has fought, called legislators and shed tears.

Today, as mothers are celebrated, Heather said she thinks it will be a blessing to be with her children, but it will also feel like someone is missing.

"It's going to be a very hard Mother's Day," she said.

This morning, she will sit in church, watching moms stand during a "baby dedication," where parents vow to raise children in a godly manner. Heather and husband, Harry, already did the dedication with their three children. Last Mother's Day, as she watched, her mind drifted to Maya.

"Next Mother's Day," Heather thought, "we'll have a baby girl and be able to dedicate her."

When it comes time for this year's dedication, she told her husband, she may have to step outside the sanctuary.

A calling from God

Sept. 24, 2007:

"Her name will be Maya, meaning precious little one. ... Another meaning of her name is, a creative work of God. How appropriate is that for our baby. This whole journey has been exactly that."

As a coffee-fueled, full-time mom who home schools the kids, this 30-year-old preacher's daughter already had plenty to keep her busy. But now, Heather's days include keeping a blog, "The Pence family's journey," chronicling her efforts to bring Maya home.

Each day is full. She breezes through the house in jeans and bare feet with red-painted toes. The kitchen table is cluttered with the kids' school books, and she knows when toddler Harrison is trying to sneak into the kitchen window from outside by spotting his reflection in the clear cabinet doors.

Yet Heather said she felt expanding the family was something God led her to do.

The idea began in 2005, when Harry sold a piece of land. Next came the question of how to spend the money. He wanted to invest. She wanted a bigger house with a sunroom and a fireplace.

Heather began thinking about adoption at a Stephen Curtis Chapman concert. The Christian musician adopted a child from China and advocates the experience.

But it wasn't until she was in the kitchen one day making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that she was struck by a feeling -- a realization that the money should be used to adopt. Unlike a house, an adoption would last forever.

At first, 33-year-old Harry needed persuading. He's a Montgomery County Sheriff's Office deputy and the family's lone breadwinner. One more mouth to feed would only add to the pressure.

He started praying about adoption. She started researching.

Internationally, Vietnam was the only country for which they qualified. They did not meet China's high income requirements, and countries such as Guatemala have shut its doors to the U.S. In fact, an increasing number of families have turned to Vietnam. More than 1,200 Vietnamese children were adopted by Americans over the 18 months ending in March. Last year, adoptions jumped more than 400 percent from 2006.

In August 2006, the family started the process. They transferred their paperwork in March 2007 to a Portland agency with a shorter waiting list.

Heather was sure they would have a baby within a year.

The application was on its way to Vietnam in May 2007, and on Aug. 29, the family arrived home from church to good news. They learned via e-mail that they were matched with a 1-month-old girl.

Maya's picture and a referral came two months later. The family gathered around the computer. When they saw Maya for the first time, everybody cried.

The bad news

Jan. 7:

"I thought we would definitely have her by now, but I guess not. Things are not going as we had hoped, or planned. I would love to tell you that I am optimistic about things, but I can't. I am very discouraged, and I am preparing myself for the loss of our baby ..."

The phone call came the week of Thanksgiving.

"I have bad news," an adoption caseworker told Heather.

Maya's province was refusing to release a document needed to file her I-600 form -- immigration papers a child needs to get a visa and be allowed into the country.

Six other families at their Oregon agency are in the same situation.

They're caught up in a new adoption law that was implemented in November, just as the Pences got Maya's referral.

The law is meant to give U.S. Embassy workers in Vietnam more time to ensure that each adopted baby is truly an orphan. In fact, in late April, the embassy released a report saying Vietnamese hospitals sold babies whose mothers could not pay their bills and that brokers searched villages for infants.

Before the law, the Pences would have traveled to Vietnam within weeks of getting Maya's referral. They would have filed her I-600 overseas, waited a few weeks, then brought her home.

Now, the form is completed in the U.S. The time families must wait for the U.S. to approve each I-600 jumped from 10 to 90 days.

All these months later, the Pences are still waiting.

Moving forward

April 7:

"I can't believe that you are 9 months old already, and I have never seen you or held you. I pray that I will be able to see your beautiful face, and hold you before your first birthday ..."

In November, a friend brought six bags full of baby clothes. Heather washed them and put them in a drawer. Now, the outfits are too small -- all are sized for a 3- to 6-month-old baby.

A room is set aside for the nursery. Heather won pink baby bedding on eBay. But she's waiting for good news before painting the room. It's hard walking in there, seeing all the unused baby goods.

Maya should have been home in December. Heather even bought her baby a Christmas dress -- silky pink and printed with black velvet roses. Now, the kids use the dress' fur-collared jacket for their dolls.

Heather has known about Maya for nine months. To lose her now would be like losing a baby she carried inside her.

She knows it's hard for others to understand how she can love a child she's never met. She knows if she were not living this life, she wouldn't understand, either.

She still home schools the kids as she waits, planned this summer's Disney vacation and is looking forward to June days at the pool. But now, it's nothing for her to call senators, the White House or the State Department, hoping someone can help get her baby.

Not a day goes by when Heather doesn't break down and cry -- usually it's in the shower, where the kids can't see her.

In public, it hurts to see babies Maya's age.

Now, going to the grocery store can take hours -- she almost always runs into people she knows, all asking about Maya.

Through all this, she has befriended a woman in Michigan whose baby is in the same orphanage. They talk every week, and Heather said she feels better.

She's part of a close congregation at Main Street Baptist and has friends there to lean on for support. One of them is Kathy Cook, a 47-year-old whom Heather's children call "Granny Cook."

She knows the waiting is miserable, that each holiday only gets harder, that it hurts Heather's heart when the kids ask, "Mommy, why don't you go get Maya?"

"Going through this adoption has definitely made her stronger," Cook said. "If she never gets Maya, she'll make it through that, too."

Heather already feels like Maya's mom. She's protective, worries about whether Maya is getting enough to eat, prays she's growing strong.

Like any mom, she knows parenthood may lead to selfless decisions. She knows one day, she might have to let Maya go, giving her a chance of being adopted by another family.

Still, Heather dreams of getting her baby, of looking into her deep brown eyes and saying, "I fought for you. I didn't quit."

No matter what happens, Heather has decided this: even if they lose Maya, her picture will stay on the living room wall.

Maya is part of the family. Always. Even if she never comes home.