August 28, 2010
August 26, 2010
First Photos!
Isabella was born on June 20 and arrived at the Bethzatha Children's Home (a government orphanage) in Hossana Town on July 21. She spent a few days there, then continued her journey to the Bethzatha Home in Addis Ababa and finally arrived at Hannah's Hope (our agency's transition home) on August 5.
Kiersten, another Case Manager at our agency (soon to be our Case Manager when Julie goes on Maternity Leave!) was visiting the Bethzatha Home in Hossana Town when Isabella was there!!! She just sent us photos and information this morning - what an incredible, unique blessing! These are the FIRST PHOTOS ever taken of our little girl, when she was just one month old!
Of course we cannot publicly share the photos of Isabella until she is legally our daughter, but oh what precious photos! She is this tiny little thing with a head of curly black hair, lying in a full-sized, worn, painted pink wooden bed with railings. They put her in the bed because the Home does not have any cribs; she was the only child there at the time. She is covered by this huge redish patterned heavy blanket (or rug?) folded in half, that still takes up most of the bed, making her look even smaller and more lost underneath it. There is a sweet receiving blanket wrapped around her shoulders and against her face. Her eyes look so sad - so different from the laughing, smiling, joyful baby we see in her photos taken two weeks later.
Here are photos of the Bethzatha Children's Home in Hossana Town:
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This is the staff at the Home. The girl in the orange on the far left is the one Kiersten saw caring for Isabella while she was visiting:
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Kiersten describes the Southern region as geographically beautiful, with red earth and more rolling hills than in Addis, which is several hours north. She also tells us that the staff were very attentive to Isabella's needs.
We are so grateful to each of them, for loving and caring for our daughter when we couldn't.
Kiersten, another Case Manager at our agency (soon to be our Case Manager when Julie goes on Maternity Leave!) was visiting the Bethzatha Home in Hossana Town when Isabella was there!!! She just sent us photos and information this morning - what an incredible, unique blessing! These are the FIRST PHOTOS ever taken of our little girl, when she was just one month old!
Of course we cannot publicly share the photos of Isabella until she is legally our daughter, but oh what precious photos! She is this tiny little thing with a head of curly black hair, lying in a full-sized, worn, painted pink wooden bed with railings. They put her in the bed because the Home does not have any cribs; she was the only child there at the time. She is covered by this huge redish patterned heavy blanket (or rug?) folded in half, that still takes up most of the bed, making her look even smaller and more lost underneath it. There is a sweet receiving blanket wrapped around her shoulders and against her face. Her eyes look so sad - so different from the laughing, smiling, joyful baby we see in her photos taken two weeks later.
Here are photos of the Bethzatha Children's Home in Hossana Town:
.JPG)
This is the staff at the Home. The girl in the orange on the far left is the one Kiersten saw caring for Isabella while she was visiting:
.JPG)
We are so grateful to each of them, for loving and caring for our daughter when we couldn't.
August 25, 2010
Unofficial Countdown
The Unofficial Countdown has begun.
Two families who received open court files two weeks before us just received their court dates: November 19 and November 23. Sadly, our agency has assured us that they do not expect to receive our court dates until after court re-opens on September 30.
We expect to receive an early-December court date. Although a part of me hopes and prays that we will pass court in time to make the late-December embassy appointment, realistically, I know that we will probably have a January embassy appointment. The familes who recently made it court-to-embassy in three weeks (three weeks!) were an anomaly; in most cases, it takes 4 - 6 weeks to go from passing court to meeting with the U.S. Embassy to get a VISA.
Bad news: I will be attending the court hearing by myself because Jon cannot travel from Thanksgiving through Christmas. Good news: Jon can travel in January, so he will get to be there for the "gotcha" day (and more importantly, the 21 hour flight home! :)
In the meantime...
Option 1: smuggle our baby into the U.S. after we pass court. This option will almost certainly end with me on the nightly news. Pros: 15 seconds of fame. Cons: 15 years with good behavior.
Option 2 (considered for a few seconds longer than Option 1): stay in Ethiopia or take our baby to live in a country that does not require a VISA until the U.S. VISA comes through. Pros: baby time! Cons: there's no place like home.
Option 3: Wait semi-patiently, whining occassionally, and joking often. This option has won out for now.
You'll know if I change my mind: you'll either see my on the nightly news, between updates on Tiger's divorce and the egg recall, or my Christmas card will be postmarked from somewhere in Africa...
150 days and counting...!?
Two families who received open court files two weeks before us just received their court dates: November 19 and November 23. Sadly, our agency has assured us that they do not expect to receive our court dates until after court re-opens on September 30.
We expect to receive an early-December court date. Although a part of me hopes and prays that we will pass court in time to make the late-December embassy appointment, realistically, I know that we will probably have a January embassy appointment. The familes who recently made it court-to-embassy in three weeks (three weeks!) were an anomaly; in most cases, it takes 4 - 6 weeks to go from passing court to meeting with the U.S. Embassy to get a VISA.
Bad news: I will be attending the court hearing by myself because Jon cannot travel from Thanksgiving through Christmas. Good news: Jon can travel in January, so he will get to be there for the "gotcha" day (and more importantly, the 21 hour flight home! :)
In the meantime...
Option 1: smuggle our baby into the U.S. after we pass court. This option will almost certainly end with me on the nightly news. Pros: 15 seconds of fame. Cons: 15 years with good behavior.
Option 2 (considered for a few seconds longer than Option 1): stay in Ethiopia or take our baby to live in a country that does not require a VISA until the U.S. VISA comes through. Pros: baby time! Cons: there's no place like home.
Option 3: Wait semi-patiently, whining occassionally, and joking often. This option has won out for now.
You'll know if I change my mind: you'll either see my on the nightly news, between updates on Tiger's divorce and the egg recall, or my Christmas card will be postmarked from somewhere in Africa...
150 days and counting...!?
August 21, 2010
Photo Book
We get to send a photo album to HH to share with our daughter. I have had this one for months, in anticipation.
I am cherishing it, knowing that Bella will touch it, look at it, chew on it, and play with it while we wait to bring her home...
I am cherishing it, knowing that Bella will touch it, look at it, chew on it, and play with it while we wait to bring her home...
August 19, 2010
We Have a Name!
ISABELLA Pledged to God MARIE Bitterness FEVEN Bright, Shining
Although your journey was tinged with bitterness, you are bright and shining, pledged to God, and forever a member of our family. We love you, sweet girl!
August 18, 2010
Post-Referral Call
We had our Post-Referral Call with Mindy, the Family Education Coordinator. We reviewed our Transition Plan and talked about potential issues and recommendations. Next up: the Next Steps Call with our Case Manager!
August 16, 2010
Grateful
It is 10:00 a.m. in Ethiopia. A special mother may be rocking our daughter to sleep for her mid-morning nap.
It is after midnight here and all I can think of is how grateful I am for the love, kindness, and generosity of family, friends, and even strangers. This week, I have been needy, and you have each been giving, supporting, and forgiving. Thank you.
The past three days have been a whirlwind. Thursday we received our referral call - was it really only three days ago? I feel like we have loved our daughter much longer than that! As soon as we finished The Call, I cancelled everything on my calendar and drove 2 hours (road construction detour!) to Portland to pick up the referral packet.
Friday, I completed the materials to accept the referral, met Jon to sign/notarize, and then drove the entire packet back to our case manager. Matthew had been asking to help with the paperwork for his baby sister, so we told him that he could have the important job of delivering the paperwork. He was so excited and proud to carry the packet in and hand it to Julie!
Saturday, my sister, brother-in-law, and their girls drove three hours to spend the week helping Grandma with house repairs and painting. I have been running in three different directions, trying to spend time with family and help with the work, co-host a Welcome Home shower for our friends, and complete the Transition Plan for our adoption. I have done nothing well this weekend except demonstrate again and again my shortcomings; I am humbled by all of you who love me anyways!
THANK YOU to everyone who shared in the joy of our referral, from close family and friends, to new friends and even strangers: your support, encouragement, and excitement has been a blessing.
THANK YOU to my sister, my brother, and their spouses, for kindly letting me skip out and leave them to do the real work.
THANK YOU to my friends who did an amazing job with the shower and were so forgiving of my tardiness and absenteeism.
THANK YOU to our agency's staff, who will have to interpret my scratchings to understand what our Transition Plan is. Just between us, our Transition Plan boils down to three words: sensitivity, flexibility, and help. Fortunately, I am verbose by nature, so turning three words into several hundred, enough to fill the allotted 9 pages, was not a problem.
THANK YOU to the staff at HH who are caring for our daughter in our absence. Our hearts are in your hands.
The highlight of our weekend was hearing from a family who just returned home from Ethiopia. They saw our daughter at HH last week and wrote "she is a tiny little thing but seemed to be a happy baby!" Those few words made my heart smile.
We have also received generous offers from families who are traveling next week, to love her and take photos of her while they are at HH. These families will be tired, stressed, and overwhelmed by their own journeys to bring home their own children, yet they are taking time to reach out to us and our daughter, even though we have never met. Their kindness means so much to us. Our daughter is a world away, yet through them we will hold her for a moment.
It is after midnight here and all I can think of is how grateful I am for the love, kindness, and generosity of family, friends, and even strangers. This week, I have been needy, and you have each been giving, supporting, and forgiving. Thank you.
The past three days have been a whirlwind. Thursday we received our referral call - was it really only three days ago? I feel like we have loved our daughter much longer than that! As soon as we finished The Call, I cancelled everything on my calendar and drove 2 hours (road construction detour!) to Portland to pick up the referral packet.
Friday, I completed the materials to accept the referral, met Jon to sign/notarize, and then drove the entire packet back to our case manager. Matthew had been asking to help with the paperwork for his baby sister, so we told him that he could have the important job of delivering the paperwork. He was so excited and proud to carry the packet in and hand it to Julie!
Saturday, my sister, brother-in-law, and their girls drove three hours to spend the week helping Grandma with house repairs and painting. I have been running in three different directions, trying to spend time with family and help with the work, co-host a Welcome Home shower for our friends, and complete the Transition Plan for our adoption. I have done nothing well this weekend except demonstrate again and again my shortcomings; I am humbled by all of you who love me anyways!
THANK YOU to everyone who shared in the joy of our referral, from close family and friends, to new friends and even strangers: your support, encouragement, and excitement has been a blessing.
THANK YOU to my sister, my brother, and their spouses, for kindly letting me skip out and leave them to do the real work.
THANK YOU to my friends who did an amazing job with the shower and were so forgiving of my tardiness and absenteeism.
THANK YOU to our agency's staff, who will have to interpret my scratchings to understand what our Transition Plan is. Just between us, our Transition Plan boils down to three words: sensitivity, flexibility, and help. Fortunately, I am verbose by nature, so turning three words into several hundred, enough to fill the allotted 9 pages, was not a problem.
THANK YOU to the staff at HH who are caring for our daughter in our absence. Our hearts are in your hands.
The highlight of our weekend was hearing from a family who just returned home from Ethiopia. They saw our daughter at HH last week and wrote "she is a tiny little thing but seemed to be a happy baby!" Those few words made my heart smile.
We have also received generous offers from families who are traveling next week, to love her and take photos of her while they are at HH. These families will be tired, stressed, and overwhelmed by their own journeys to bring home their own children, yet they are taking time to reach out to us and our daughter, even though we have never met. Their kindness means so much to us. Our daughter is a world away, yet through them we will hold her for a moment.
August 13, 2010
Acceptance of Referral!
Matthew asked if he could help with the paperwork, so his job was to carry the packet in and give it to Julie:
August 12, 2010
The Call
Our phone rang, when we least expected it of course. The past couple of weeks, Matthew and I have left for Grandma's house around 10:00 a.m. weekdays, to spend a few hours each day helping her reorganize and rearrange her home. This project has come at a good time, and has kept me from stalking my own telephone. Although I am out of cell phone range, Jon is reachable at his office and can contact me if/when The Call comes in. I have convinced myself, though, that the phone will not ring until we are in Disneyland, so no worries!
August 12, 2010. 9:33 a.m. I am sitting on the couch, quickly typing out a response to a question about Christians' view of usury with reference to a Boston Globe article, "How Puritans Became Capitalists." Yes, I am a geek, this is the kind of thing that I do for fun between breakfast and chores!
The phone rings. I jump up to answer, expecting it to be Grandma calling to remind us to bring some soda.
The caller ID says "AGCI." AGCI!?! OH MY GOODNESS. This must be it.
I answer, my voice shaking. Our caseworker, Julie, begins to talk. It takes her at least three sentences to confirm that this is, in fact, the long-anticipated Referral Call. As I begin to hyperventilate, I ask Julie if she has ever had someone faint on her. I love being "first" at things, after all...
Julie launches into the details: "I have a little girl to tell you about. She was born June 20..." Oh, wait, Jon isn't on the phone! He will want to hear all of this first-hand! I catch my breath long enough to interrupt Julie and ask her to conference Jon in. She puts me on hold while she dials Jon's number. I grab my office phone and dial our friends/neighbors. A phone in each hand, one for each ear. Now if the brain in between can just function long enough to get through the call!
Our friends' son answers the phone. Me, stumbling to get the words out before Julie comes back on the other line: "This is Angela, tell your mom to come up here right now!!!" Click. Cheri will know what this means. The Referral Call. Photos. Video. Excitement. Joy.
Julie comes back on the line - Jon didn't answer! NO! Julie gives me her number, and says she has a 10:00 a.m. meeting. My dilemma: if I can't reach Jon in time, do I wait?!? We'll pretend the answer would have been "of course." Fortunately, it didn't come to that.
I leave Jon a message that Julie is calling with our referral, then run and change my shirt. I am a pre-shower, pre-makeup mess, but at least I can have my heart-Ethiopia shirt on for one of the more memorable moments in my life.
I call Jon's office again, and this time he answers! "Okay, now hang up, and be sure to answer when Julie calls in a few minutes!" I call Julie, she conferences Jon in. This is it. Here we go...
About this time Cheri knocks on the door. She understood the cryptic message and came right over, PJs and all. The mark of a true friend.
Her Ethiopian name is Feven (variation of Phoebe), meaning Bright, Shining.
Her birthdate is June 20 - our anniversary! God is chuckling.
She arrived at her first orphanage on July 21, the day that I blogged that I had this verse stuck in my head: This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it! (Psalm 118)
She is from the same region as our friends' daughter.
She came into care at Hannah's Hope one week ago today, August 5. She is two months old, under-nourished (only 6 pounds now), but otherwise beautiful, healthy, and smiling.
We have decided that the rest of her story is personal to her. Most importantly, she will be coming home soon. Our daughter is coming home.
Julie finishes reading the file to us. We laugh at parts: they say that she is content "when all things are going well." Me too, what a coincidence! I cry at parts. By the end, we say "Yes! Send the referral!" We receive the official Referral email with all of the information and six precious photos a few minutes later.
I show her photo to Matthew and say "this might be your baby sister!" Matthew, looking at her photo, asks matter-of-factly: "What's her name?" Me: "Well, we haven't named her yet." Running off, he shouts: "Okay, I need to go find my gun and shoot some bad guys!" So, not quite the perfect-for-the-baby-book response that I was looking for (how about "oohhh she's so pretty!" or "I love her already!"), but what can you do? Life, unscripted.
Cheri's husband offers to take Matthew with him and their boys to the County Fair. Matthew, still in his PJs, manages to find clothes and dress with help from Bob, and off they go. Good. I would have been a terrible mother today. A 20 minute phone call and suddenly I have mommy-brain.
We share the news with our immediate family. We send the file off to the international pediatrician. We decide to wait to tell the outside world until we receive the independent medical evaluation and complete the paperwork to officially accept the referral.
I call Julie back and say that we can't wait until tomorrow to receive the referral binder. I'll pick it up. Grandma decides to keep me company on the 90 minute drive. We take her vehicle, because the A/C is broken in ours, but I drive. Grandma drives too slow on a day like today. Of course the highway is closed for roadwork, so we detour through Hood River. Jon decides to meet us for a quick lunch at McDonald's:
Then it's back to work for Jon, and on to Portland for me.
The detour should have only added 40 minutes... but then another 30 minutes at McDonald's... and then road construction on the freeway... we do not arrive at our agency's office until 3:00.
It took all of 10 minutes to share my joy with agency staff and our caseworker, Julie:
Then we're back on the long road home, with a quick stop at the Gymboree outlet store, where Grandma bought an adorable pink kitty outfit in size 6 - 12 months!
I keep pulling out the file and grinning at her photos. We have a baby girl!!!
We get home, pick Matthew up, stop off at Grandma's for some quick chores, then race back home where our amazing friends bless us with flowers, baby gifts, and a yummy dinner, topped off by homemade vanilla ice cream (my favorite).
Their own daughter has been home for six weeks and is too adorable for words. We are so very excited to watch them grow up together, and still so amazed at the story that is unfolding between our two families (see my first post, Setting Out, for more details).
I do not want to forget a moment of this incredible day. I am overwhelmed by all of the different emotions.
A few minutes ago, our international pediatrician sent us her evaluation. It is nearly midnight where she is at - we are thankful and impressed with her diligence. There are no surprises in the evaluation. It's a go!
Tomorrow, we will sign/notarize all of the acceptance paperwork and I will drive it to our agency. As we have learned, as long as this process is, every day matters. A few days' delay now may mean a week difference in our initial court date. A week difference in our court date may mean a month difference in embassy dates. Every month means the world to us.
We are praying that we are assigned a court date sooner (October) rather than later (November). Our embassy appointment, when we get to bring our daughter home, will likely fall 4 - 6 weeks after our court date. How long the wait has been. How much longer the wait will be!
In the meantime, we have her photos. We have her story. We are confident that she is receiving the best possible care outside of our own arms.
We love you, sweetheart.
August 12, 2010. 9:33 a.m. I am sitting on the couch, quickly typing out a response to a question about Christians' view of usury with reference to a Boston Globe article, "How Puritans Became Capitalists." Yes, I am a geek, this is the kind of thing that I do for fun between breakfast and chores!
The phone rings. I jump up to answer, expecting it to be Grandma calling to remind us to bring some soda.
The caller ID says "AGCI." AGCI!?! OH MY GOODNESS. This must be it.
I answer, my voice shaking. Our caseworker, Julie, begins to talk. It takes her at least three sentences to confirm that this is, in fact, the long-anticipated Referral Call. As I begin to hyperventilate, I ask Julie if she has ever had someone faint on her. I love being "first" at things, after all...
Julie launches into the details: "I have a little girl to tell you about. She was born June 20..." Oh, wait, Jon isn't on the phone! He will want to hear all of this first-hand! I catch my breath long enough to interrupt Julie and ask her to conference Jon in. She puts me on hold while she dials Jon's number. I grab my office phone and dial our friends/neighbors. A phone in each hand, one for each ear. Now if the brain in between can just function long enough to get through the call!
Our friends' son answers the phone. Me, stumbling to get the words out before Julie comes back on the other line: "This is Angela, tell your mom to come up here right now!!!" Click. Cheri will know what this means. The Referral Call. Photos. Video. Excitement. Joy.
Julie comes back on the line - Jon didn't answer! NO! Julie gives me her number, and says she has a 10:00 a.m. meeting. My dilemma: if I can't reach Jon in time, do I wait?!? We'll pretend the answer would have been "of course." Fortunately, it didn't come to that.
I leave Jon a message that Julie is calling with our referral, then run and change my shirt. I am a pre-shower, pre-makeup mess, but at least I can have my heart-Ethiopia shirt on for one of the more memorable moments in my life.
I call Jon's office again, and this time he answers! "Okay, now hang up, and be sure to answer when Julie calls in a few minutes!" I call Julie, she conferences Jon in. This is it. Here we go...
About this time Cheri knocks on the door. She understood the cryptic message and came right over, PJs and all. The mark of a true friend.
Her Ethiopian name is Feven (variation of Phoebe), meaning Bright, Shining.
Her birthdate is June 20 - our anniversary! God is chuckling.
She arrived at her first orphanage on July 21, the day that I blogged that I had this verse stuck in my head: This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it! (Psalm 118)
She is from the same region as our friends' daughter.
She came into care at Hannah's Hope one week ago today, August 5. She is two months old, under-nourished (only 6 pounds now), but otherwise beautiful, healthy, and smiling.
We have decided that the rest of her story is personal to her. Most importantly, she will be coming home soon. Our daughter is coming home.
Julie finishes reading the file to us. We laugh at parts: they say that she is content "when all things are going well." Me too, what a coincidence! I cry at parts. By the end, we say "Yes! Send the referral!" We receive the official Referral email with all of the information and six precious photos a few minutes later.
I show her photo to Matthew and say "this might be your baby sister!" Matthew, looking at her photo, asks matter-of-factly: "What's her name?" Me: "Well, we haven't named her yet." Running off, he shouts: "Okay, I need to go find my gun and shoot some bad guys!" So, not quite the perfect-for-the-baby-book response that I was looking for (how about "oohhh she's so pretty!" or "I love her already!"), but what can you do? Life, unscripted.
Cheri's husband offers to take Matthew with him and their boys to the County Fair. Matthew, still in his PJs, manages to find clothes and dress with help from Bob, and off they go. Good. I would have been a terrible mother today. A 20 minute phone call and suddenly I have mommy-brain.
We share the news with our immediate family. We send the file off to the international pediatrician. We decide to wait to tell the outside world until we receive the independent medical evaluation and complete the paperwork to officially accept the referral.
I call Julie back and say that we can't wait until tomorrow to receive the referral binder. I'll pick it up. Grandma decides to keep me company on the 90 minute drive. We take her vehicle, because the A/C is broken in ours, but I drive. Grandma drives too slow on a day like today. Of course the highway is closed for roadwork, so we detour through Hood River. Jon decides to meet us for a quick lunch at McDonald's:
We are in shock and awe.
Then it's back to work for Jon, and on to Portland for me.
The detour should have only added 40 minutes... but then another 30 minutes at McDonald's... and then road construction on the freeway... we do not arrive at our agency's office until 3:00.
We Have Our Referral Packet!
Then we're back on the long road home, with a quick stop at the Gymboree outlet store, where Grandma bought an adorable pink kitty outfit in size 6 - 12 months!
I keep pulling out the file and grinning at her photos. We have a baby girl!!!
We get home, pick Matthew up, stop off at Grandma's for some quick chores, then race back home where our amazing friends bless us with flowers, baby gifts, and a yummy dinner, topped off by homemade vanilla ice cream (my favorite).
I do not want to forget a moment of this incredible day. I am overwhelmed by all of the different emotions.
A few minutes ago, our international pediatrician sent us her evaluation. It is nearly midnight where she is at - we are thankful and impressed with her diligence. There are no surprises in the evaluation. It's a go!
Tomorrow, we will sign/notarize all of the acceptance paperwork and I will drive it to our agency. As we have learned, as long as this process is, every day matters. A few days' delay now may mean a week difference in our initial court date. A week difference in our court date may mean a month difference in embassy dates. Every month means the world to us.
We are praying that we are assigned a court date sooner (October) rather than later (November). Our embassy appointment, when we get to bring our daughter home, will likely fall 4 - 6 weeks after our court date. How long the wait has been. How much longer the wait will be!
In the meantime, we have her photos. We have her story. We are confident that she is receiving the best possible care outside of our own arms.
We love you, sweetheart.
Conspicuous-ness
(Still waiting!)
Besides contemplating makeup, praying, planning our Disneyland trip, praying, craving ice cream, praying, getting motivated to write another Soapbox Monologue and - you guessed it! - praying, I have been thinking about being a "conspicuous" family after we bring our daughter home. To us, she will look like our beautiful daughter. To the outside world, she will look different.
My family was conspicuous, but growing up, I didn't think about it. Even as an adult, I have been in denial, thinking all the while that this adoption will be my first experience with conspicuous-ness. Here I was, concerned about what life in a conspicuous family will be like for our children, when it hit me: I grew up in a conspicuous family, I just didn't see it because I was in it.
One of my brothers was adopted from Vietnam when we were both toddlers. At first, N blended in when we went out as a family. My dad had black hair and an olive complexion, particularly when he was tan from working outdoors during the summer, and N's Amerasian complexion was on the lighter side. My mom still smiles about the lady who came up to us at the zoo, shortly after N came home. She said "you have a beautiful family! your daughter looks just like you, and your son looks just like your husband!" After my dad passed away, however, N stood out as "different" from our fair-skinned, red-haired, freckled mom and siblings.
All this time, I have said "oh no, N blended right in!" because he did - to me! He was just another brother. We loved, we bickered, we wrestled (him with first one, then both arms tied behind his back... and still he would beat me!), and most of all, we laughed. My mom recently reminded me of strangers who would stare, and sometimes ask about N. I had forgotten all about them. It was our normal, and it meant nothing to us -- just silly questions quickly answered and dismissed.
My family was also conspicuous because of my mother. Since having polio as a toddler, she wears a steel brace on her youth-size-1 1/2 shoes and walks oddly, with a pronounced limp. When walking long distances is required (Disneyland, here we come!), she now uses a wheelchair. People often look twice, some stare, and children especially will ask what happened to her. The innocent curiosity and straightforward questions of children is so refreshing!
Because of her legs, Mom often falls. She can collapse when walking in a straight line on dry pavement. I remember one time in particular. I was about 16, and my siblings were 15, 11, and 10. It was an icy winter afternoon, and we were just leaving the store. As we crossed the parking lot, my mom fell. Her feet flew out from under her, and in seemingly slow motion, down she went. Getting her up off the ground takes a certain technique. As N started to 'pull' her up, she started laughing, us kids started laughing, and just as we were dealing with life as we knew it, the only way we knew how, my instructor drove around us.
I started to wave. He looked the other way. We all noticed. Maybe he didn't recognize us. Maybe. He saw us well enough to avoid running us over, but then we would have been hard to miss, with Mom down on the ground and four kids standing around in stitches.
We all paused, realizing that he expected us to be embarrassed, realizing that we were a spectacle. Then we grinned at each other, shrugged, managed to pull Mom up, and continued walking, unscathed by it all. We were conspicuous, but it was our normal, and it was okay.
Our children will grow up in a family that is, perhaps, even more conspicuous. I pray that they will be equally un-phased by it all. We will strive to teach them to deal with the attention with grace and humor. Hopefully, our children will have to stop and think long and hard to even remember that we are a conspicuous family, despite all of the external cues. God-willing, their first thought will not be that our family is "different," but that our family is full of faith, love, laughter . . . and kids who are cute as a bugs ear! :)
Besides contemplating makeup, praying, planning our Disneyland trip, praying, craving ice cream, praying, getting motivated to write another Soapbox Monologue and - you guessed it! - praying, I have been thinking about being a "conspicuous" family after we bring our daughter home. To us, she will look like our beautiful daughter. To the outside world, she will look different.
My family was conspicuous, but growing up, I didn't think about it. Even as an adult, I have been in denial, thinking all the while that this adoption will be my first experience with conspicuous-ness. Here I was, concerned about what life in a conspicuous family will be like for our children, when it hit me: I grew up in a conspicuous family, I just didn't see it because I was in it.
One of my brothers was adopted from Vietnam when we were both toddlers. At first, N blended in when we went out as a family. My dad had black hair and an olive complexion, particularly when he was tan from working outdoors during the summer, and N's Amerasian complexion was on the lighter side. My mom still smiles about the lady who came up to us at the zoo, shortly after N came home. She said "you have a beautiful family! your daughter looks just like you, and your son looks just like your husband!" After my dad passed away, however, N stood out as "different" from our fair-skinned, red-haired, freckled mom and siblings.
All this time, I have said "oh no, N blended right in!" because he did - to me! He was just another brother. We loved, we bickered, we wrestled (him with first one, then both arms tied behind his back... and still he would beat me!), and most of all, we laughed. My mom recently reminded me of strangers who would stare, and sometimes ask about N. I had forgotten all about them. It was our normal, and it meant nothing to us -- just silly questions quickly answered and dismissed.
My family was also conspicuous because of my mother. Since having polio as a toddler, she wears a steel brace on her youth-size-1 1/2 shoes and walks oddly, with a pronounced limp. When walking long distances is required (Disneyland, here we come!), she now uses a wheelchair. People often look twice, some stare, and children especially will ask what happened to her. The innocent curiosity and straightforward questions of children is so refreshing!
Because of her legs, Mom often falls. She can collapse when walking in a straight line on dry pavement. I remember one time in particular. I was about 16, and my siblings were 15, 11, and 10. It was an icy winter afternoon, and we were just leaving the store. As we crossed the parking lot, my mom fell. Her feet flew out from under her, and in seemingly slow motion, down she went. Getting her up off the ground takes a certain technique. As N started to 'pull' her up, she started laughing, us kids started laughing, and just as we were dealing with life as we knew it, the only way we knew how, my instructor drove around us.
I started to wave. He looked the other way. We all noticed. Maybe he didn't recognize us. Maybe. He saw us well enough to avoid running us over, but then we would have been hard to miss, with Mom down on the ground and four kids standing around in stitches.
We all paused, realizing that he expected us to be embarrassed, realizing that we were a spectacle. Then we grinned at each other, shrugged, managed to pull Mom up, and continued walking, unscathed by it all. We were conspicuous, but it was our normal, and it was okay.
Our children will grow up in a family that is, perhaps, even more conspicuous. I pray that they will be equally un-phased by it all. We will strive to teach them to deal with the attention with grace and humor. Hopefully, our children will have to stop and think long and hard to even remember that we are a conspicuous family, despite all of the external cues. God-willing, their first thought will not be that our family is "different," but that our family is full of faith, love, laughter . . . and kids who are cute as a bugs ear! :)
August 9, 2010
New Theory on Timing
There are conflicting reports about our agency's transition home. Some have reported that they fill available beds with same sex/age children: if a toddler boy is picked up by his family, his bed is filled by another toddler boy, etc. Others say that they mix and match -- a crib in the infant boy room may be occupied by an infant girl depending on need.
I lean towards the first theory, based on our friends' recent observations. If this is correct, an infant girl crib will not open up until August 22, when the S's pick up their 5 month old girl. It generally takes about 2 weeks to complete the medical review and tests that are part of the referral package. If our daughter comes into care the week of August 22, her file will be ready for referral the week of September 6.
We leave for Disneyland September 8! As much as I chaff at the wait, how fun it will be if we are all together as a family when the call comes in. Even better, I am guaranteed to be showered, made-up, and photo-ready, and we will have plenty of would-be filmmakers (Auntie Jill, Uncle Kevin, Grandma!) on hand to document the entire thing.
So. Deep breath. I'm not expecting a call for a couple of weeks... but of course I'm still open to being surprised! :)
Wherever she is today, I pray that our daughter is loved and cared for while we wait...
I lean towards the first theory, based on our friends' recent observations. If this is correct, an infant girl crib will not open up until August 22, when the S's pick up their 5 month old girl. It generally takes about 2 weeks to complete the medical review and tests that are part of the referral package. If our daughter comes into care the week of August 22, her file will be ready for referral the week of September 6.
We leave for Disneyland September 8! As much as I chaff at the wait, how fun it will be if we are all together as a family when the call comes in. Even better, I am guaranteed to be showered, made-up, and photo-ready, and we will have plenty of would-be filmmakers (Auntie Jill, Uncle Kevin, Grandma!) on hand to document the entire thing.
So. Deep breath. I'm not expecting a call for a couple of weeks... but of course I'm still open to being surprised! :)
Wherever she is today, I pray that our daughter is loved and cared for while we wait...
August 8, 2010
To Makeup, or Not to Makeup, THAT is the Question
Now, of course I know that the date of The Call was predetermined long ago, and Murphy's Law is just fun and games. But what fun it can be!
Most days, I wait until after my housework and chores are done before taking a shower and going through the motions to look human. As I get older, it takes more and more time to look like a person should look. The culminating touch, of course, is MAKEUP. On a good day, after I go through all of this effort, you might look at me and think "Now there's someone who wouldn't look half bad with a little makeup." HAH! Well, they do say that a good makeup job looks natural...
Let me just say that there will be no photos or video of our referral call with me sans shower and makeup. Call me shallow, but the pre-primped me does not need to be digitially memorialized. No good can come of that.
Murphy's Law would say that my phone is more likely to ring if I'm not ready for it. On the other hand, I may be tempted to run for the shower rather than answer the phone if I'm having one of "those" days.
So... as we enter week #3 at spot #1 on the Girl list, should I be ready aka made-up, or should I spend my days in PJs with my hair in a band and my face looking like I just rolled out of bed? Maybe I should alternate days, to balance my odds either way?
Most days, I wait until after my housework and chores are done before taking a shower and going through the motions to look human. As I get older, it takes more and more time to look like a person should look. The culminating touch, of course, is MAKEUP. On a good day, after I go through all of this effort, you might look at me and think "Now there's someone who wouldn't look half bad with a little makeup." HAH! Well, they do say that a good makeup job looks natural...
Let me just say that there will be no photos or video of our referral call with me sans shower and makeup. Call me shallow, but the pre-primped me does not need to be digitially memorialized. No good can come of that.
Murphy's Law would say that my phone is more likely to ring if I'm not ready for it. On the other hand, I may be tempted to run for the shower rather than answer the phone if I'm having one of "those" days.
So... as we enter week #3 at spot #1 on the Girl list, should I be ready aka made-up, or should I spend my days in PJs with my hair in a band and my face looking like I just rolled out of bed? Maybe I should alternate days, to balance my odds either way?
August 6, 2010
No News is... No News.
I had to post "no news" for everyone who is waiting, perhaps more impatiently than I am, for my phone to ring!
I started this blog as a way to keep a record of our adoption journey. A "pre-baby" book, if you will, to print (http://www.thecutestblogontheblock.com/ makes it easy!) and add to our family records when we reach Gotcha Day.
I made this blog "public" because I felt guilty enjoying everyone else's blogs without reciprocating. As an obsessive number cruncher and blog stalker myself, it is only fair to let others track my wait list numbers and stalk me...
The problem? I have nothing really to say. I read other adoption blogs and am blown away by the bloggers' insights, compassion, humor, and faith... their ability to keep an online diary that is open to the world. The more meaningful something is to me, the harder it is for me to share. I'm sure a psychoanalyst would read all sorts of things into that confession.
No one has accused me of being shy since I learned to talk. Still, I find that I am too private to be that open. It feels too exposed to me. Posting the shortest (or, okay, I admit, once the longest!) messages on the list serve are tough. Usually, the first thing I type, I erase, because I fear that most people do not get my sarcastic humor. I'm not trying to be flippant-bordering-on-irreverant. It just comes naturally.
And so I share the superficial, hint at the meaningful, and generally bore everyone including myself. Yet, here I am typing... and there you are reading. :)
(Still waiting!)
I started this blog as a way to keep a record of our adoption journey. A "pre-baby" book, if you will, to print (http://www.thecutestblogontheblock.com/ makes it easy!) and add to our family records when we reach Gotcha Day.
I made this blog "public" because I felt guilty enjoying everyone else's blogs without reciprocating. As an obsessive number cruncher and blog stalker myself, it is only fair to let others track my wait list numbers and stalk me...
The problem? I have nothing really to say. I read other adoption blogs and am blown away by the bloggers' insights, compassion, humor, and faith... their ability to keep an online diary that is open to the world. The more meaningful something is to me, the harder it is for me to share. I'm sure a psychoanalyst would read all sorts of things into that confession.
No one has accused me of being shy since I learned to talk. Still, I find that I am too private to be that open. It feels too exposed to me. Posting the shortest (or, okay, I admit, once the longest!) messages on the list serve are tough. Usually, the first thing I type, I erase, because I fear that most people do not get my sarcastic humor. I'm not trying to be flippant-bordering-on-irreverant. It just comes naturally.
And so I share the superficial, hint at the meaningful, and generally bore everyone including myself. Yet, here I am typing... and there you are reading. :)
(Still waiting!)
August 3, 2010
From the Waiting Place to the Happiest Place
For those who are stalking my blog, as I stalked those before me - no, we haven't received a referral yet! That would be the happiest-of-happy places to be in, but we're not there yet. There's nothing left for us to do to get there except wait...
The courts in Ethiopia are closed through September. We will probably not receive a referral for a couple of weeks, maybe not even for a couple of months. We find ourselves in "a most useless place... The Waiting Place." (Dr. Seuss)
It's as good of an excuse as any to go to... Disneyland!
For the cost of the hotel and park tickets, we're off to the Happiest Place on Earth with Grandma. Earlier this year, I signed up for every free-credit-card-with-bonus-mileage-points that was out there, and voila! 4+ free domestic airline tickets. Jon laughed at me in February when I sat surrounded by a dozen credit cards, putting everything into a spreadsheet, tracking how much we needed to charge by what date to get the mileage bonuses. I’ll get the last laugh from the top of Splash Mountain, just before I close my eyes and scream . . . and then wonder why I ever think getting soaking wet is a good idea.
I am determined not to let the wait get to me any more than it already has. I will not eat any more ice cream. I will not crunch any more numbers. I will not rearrange the nursery closet any more.
I will exercise more, I will pray more, and I will plan what rides to go on first.
Mickey Mouse is blissfully ignorant of court closures and fingerprint expiration dates.
The courts in Ethiopia are closed through September. We will probably not receive a referral for a couple of weeks, maybe not even for a couple of months. We find ourselves in "a most useless place... The Waiting Place." (Dr. Seuss)
It's as good of an excuse as any to go to... Disneyland!
For the cost of the hotel and park tickets, we're off to the Happiest Place on Earth with Grandma. Earlier this year, I signed up for every free-credit-card-with-bonus-mileage-points that was out there, and voila! 4+ free domestic airline tickets. Jon laughed at me in February when I sat surrounded by a dozen credit cards, putting everything into a spreadsheet, tracking how much we needed to charge by what date to get the mileage bonuses. I’ll get the last laugh from the top of Splash Mountain, just before I close my eyes and scream . . . and then wonder why I ever think getting soaking wet is a good idea.
I am determined not to let the wait get to me any more than it already has. I will not eat any more ice cream. I will not crunch any more numbers. I will not rearrange the nursery closet any more.
I will exercise more, I will pray more, and I will plan what rides to go on first.
Mickey Mouse is blissfully ignorant of court closures and fingerprint expiration dates.
August 1, 2010
Africa Shirt
Our friends Greta & Cheri made Matthew and I these great Africa/heart-Ethiopia t-shirts. We love them! :)
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