Delays

Up until the point of the court date on March 14, we were expecting delays in the adoption process.  We thought, though, that after the court date it would be mostly smooth sailing until we bring the kids home 8 to 12 weeks later.

Unfortunately, we have had some bad news.  All of the couples that went to court on March 14 were lacking a letter from the Ethiopian Ministry of Women, Youth and Child Affairs that we need to get the court decree that is then sent to the US embassy for approval.  We are waiting now for the Holt lawyer who is working on our behalf to be given a court date to go back to court in hopes that they will have the letter by that date.  Apparently, there is no way to know whether or not that letter has been received by the court prior to court, so it's possible that at the second court date the letter still isn't there and we have to go through the process again.  As of yet, we don't have a second court date for the lawyer.  I guess one blessing is we don't have to appear again in court.

Our agency isn't able to give us any definitive answers about how long the delay will be so we have nothing to do but try and be patient and wait.

Ethiopia Post Script

I wanted to register some observations about Ethiopia as a country.  Our trip to Africa was not our first foray into the developing world so we weren't shocked by some of the things that might be shocking to others: extreme poverty, pollution, and disease.  Ethiopia certainly has all those things.  Yet, the things that stood out to me were the quiet confidence, grace and warmth of the people and their striking beauty.  They are so hospitable with their "coffee ceremony" that welcomed us to every hotel, restaurant and even the care center where our children are.  The people have such lovely smiles.  The food is spicy and exotic.  The countryside is varied and beautiful.

When I go to Latin America, it strikes me how prominent women are in society: you see them in the home, at work, out and about.  It's clear how important they are in the culture. It's a place of women.  India, I think, is a place of young men.  There are few women or children in view but in every public place from upscale shops to ancient tombs there were young men.
In contrast, Ethiopia is a country of children.  In every situation, every place, there are children alone; begging, walking on the streets, working.  We saw children that looked the age of 6 or 7 herding cattle, driving carts pulled by donkeys.   It is so different from anything I've seen before and underscores the continued tragedy of this and many impoverished countries in Africa: there are just too many children alone.  In sub-Saharan Africa it's estimated there are 48 million, yes million orphans.  What we are doing can't change the enormity of that problem, but it changes it for our two kids.

We are so proud of Ethiopia.  Proud of it's history as the birthplace of humanity.  Proud of it's rich culture and heritage.  And especially proud that of all the countries in Africa that have an overwhelming number of orphans and children in need, it stands as one of the few that have a stable enough government, strong enough infrastructue, and deep enough committment to their children to allow for international adoption and for that, we are forever grateful.

Lucky?

We often get the comment that our kids are so "lucky" that we are adopting them. This is one of the most annoying things an adoptive parent can hear. Every child deserves a home. Children born into a stable home with a nice house and family aren't reminded continually that they are lucky for having such a normal life. It's taken for granted.

For our kids to wind up in an orphanage at their tender age through no fault of their own is profoundly unlucky. When they come home with us they will have lost everything: their birth family, their country, their culture, their language. It will be akin to being abducted by aliens.

On the other hand, we have been allowed to bring these two beautiful babies into our home who have characteristics and talents that are no credit to us; who bring in a light into our boring life; who have expanded our horizons further than we ever thought we could go, and this is just the beginning. Lucky? Yes. We are the lucky ones.

Court Day, Meet Date: March 14, 2011

Today we all (six couples) piled into a van and went to Holt International's office in Ethiopia.  We were briefed on what would happen in court and for the rest of the day.  Our appearance in court was for us to confirm, in person, to the court that we had met the kids and that we wanted them.  It was also the day for the person that relinquished the child for adoption to appear in court and confirm their wishes for the child to be adopted.  This could be a parent, family member or person that found the child if they were abandoned.

We then travelled to the court where we stood in a room waiting for the judge to see us.  In the room we were with other adoptive parents and also with the people that were confirming their wishes for the child to be adopted.  We knew it was likely that the person that brought our kids to the orphanage was in the room, but we weren't sure who it was.  Very eerie.

We were called into the judge's chambers with two other couples and the judge asked the group several questions, "Have you educated yourself on international adoption and the identity issues that can arise later? Have you educated yourself on the history of Ethiopia?  Do you understand that if you agree, the adoption is final and nothing can break it?"  To all of this we answered "yes."  And the judge said, "then it is so."

That was it.

We all went out to lunch and then back to the Holt office to meet the person that had reliquished the kids for adoption.  We aren't going to share the details of this because they are private and only for Endrias and Bethelihem to know when they are ready.  We keep these details in a "life book" that is only for them to have.  If later in life they want to share that with others, it will be their choice.  We do this because we recognize that with adoption, there is always some pain and that pain causes scars that don't need to be re-exposed by talking to everyone about their history.  When and if they're ready, they can share it.

I will say this.  As joyful as we are to have these children in our lives, there is an equal amount of suffering and tragedy for another family.  In our world, we have no concept of what it is like to have to make the choice between a child dying of starvation or giving them up.   It also takes so much committment for these people to bring a child to a care center for adoption.  These are people with so little: often illiterate, without a profession, home, shoes.  They have to come to the care center, be interviewed on three separate occasions with separate social workers and be willing to be transported the 6 hours of bad road to the capitol city for a court date where they will lose three days of wages if they have them.  It takes so much fortitude and love to go through all that to try to bring a child into a better life.  We have come to accept that the love of these people for our children to relinquish them to us is more profound than we could have imagined.  It is not an act of weakness, it is an act of strength and it comes at great cost for them.  We have looked that in the face, and we are forever changed.

The Longest Night, The Longest Minute: March 11, 2011

I should have known something wasn't right when we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel and there were vultures sitting on the trees.

We checked in to the Hotel Lewi at around 5:30 pm in Awassa and I promptly went to bed.  The room was hot with no air conditioning, but this was Malaria and Yellow Fever country and we didn't want to let any mosquitos in (the windows didn't have screens). Leigh got up at 7 pm and had dinner with some of the other couples and I stayed in bed.  He came back to the room, we watched a really bad movie and went to sleep under a mosquito net at around 9:30 pm.  I had ear plugs in because there was a club next door with lots of activity given it was a Saturday night.

At 12:30 am, I heard Leigh get up and go to the bathroom (despite having the earplugs in).  I asked him if he was okay, no answer.  I heard him moaning, and I got out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door, "Leigh are you okay?"  No answer.  I open the door and he's on the toilet, very pale, and says, "I don't feel good." 
"What's the matter?"
"I don't know, I don't feel good."
"Does something hurt you?"
"Just leave me alone.  Give me a minute, will you?"

I close the door and stand outside.

And then, whack.  I hear him hit the floor.

I open the door, and what I saw is still burned in my memory.  My husband, pale on the floor -which he hit face first - with a bleeding mouth, eyes open and totally unresponsive.  I start shaking him "Leigh are you alright?  Leigh wake up!"  Nothing.  I try to turn him over so I can start CPR on him, but he's too big, I can't move him.  I pick up the phone and dial the front desk and say "I need an ambulance, my husband collapsed."  As I am talking to the them Leigh starts to move.

The desk staff says "No ambulance, I'm coming up."  I say, "I don't need you, I need an ambulance, I need a doctor."  Desk staff, "There's no ambulance, no doctor, I'm coming up."  I hang up.

Leigh, in the meantime has tried to stand up and has collapsed again, this time on his rear, and still conscious.  He's very confused.  I yell at him not to get up.  He says "I want to go to bed."  I yell at him he must crawl, he can't fall again.  He crawls to the bed.  He is very hot and sweaty and pale.  I try to feel his pulse but can't feel it.  I give him an antibiotic we had with us, tylenol and make him start drinking water.

By now the desk staff comes and asks how to help.  I say to get one of the other guys on the trip who is an internist/hospitalist.  Unfortunately, all the hotel rooms with our people were listed under the adoption agency name, so he had to knock on lots of doors before he found them.  We also had a nurse on the trip and both came and stepped into action.  We rubbed him down with cool towels, put cold packs (that I had brought) under his neck and arms and made him drink, drink, drink.  Finally we got a thready pulse and he became less confused.

He had a big bump on his head, a red eye (he fell on his head, eye) and a cut tongue from biting it when he fell.  Once things settled down a little, everyone left and it was just Leigh and I.  Then he got terrible chills alternating with fever that over the night gradually lessened.  I woke him up every hour to make sure he was conscious given the head injury.  I went with him to the bathroom every time.  I made him drink 7 liters of water (for you medical folks, half of them had electrolytes I added in). 

We were both really scared.  If he got worse, we didn't really have a recourse and we didn't know what was wrong with him to begin with.  Our driver was staying outside the hotel and we couldn't get in touch with him.  There was no ambulance, no hospital nearby.  I realized, this is the way all of these people feel with a sick child or loved one: helpless.

Fortunately, Leigh improved as the night went on, and by morning he was starting to feel close to normal.  We're still not sure why this happened.  I can tell you though, to have your spouse become unresponsive in rural Africa is a terrible, terrible feeling and that night was the longest one I have ever endured.

The Longest Day, The Shortest Hour: March 11, 2011

This morning we set out at 6:00 am from our bed and breakfast in the capitol city, Addis Abeba to travel to see our kids in the southern part of the country.  There are six couples all traveling.  We crammed into a van and Leigh and I were in the very back seat.  For the first three hours of the trip, the road was paved, but still with lots of bumps and Dawn got a bit sick from it.  After three hours, we all piled out of the van to a cafe where we had a short break for bathrooms and refreshments and Leigh stayed in the back, Dawn moved to the front.  Two hours later (five hours total), the van turned onto a rough dirt road and another van met up with us to take the two of us to where are kids are in Woylaita, a different location than the other families whose kids are at a care center in Durame.

We then travelled another hour, had lunch in the small village where our care center is (see picture below) and proceeded on to see the kids.

We were expecting that we would be brought into the center, introduced to the staff and then brought to a room where the kids were and introduced as visitors.  In fact, we walked into the front door, and there they were.  Beautiful Endrias and Bethelihem.  They were expecting us.  They were told we were "mom" and "dad."

I had sent them cards in November with our pictures in them and explaining who we were and why it would take so long for us to come and get them.  They still had the cards and they knew what we looked like.  Endrias had been asking his nannies when his parents were going to come and today was the day and he knew it.

It's hard to explain the surreal experience of walking into a room and meeting your kids.  That's just what happened though.  Endrias is very emotive with a warm smile and very affectionate.  He sang a couple of songs to us and he has a beautiful voice with perfect pitch and rhythm.  He has such wonderful expressive eyes (again, to protect their privacy and out of the respect of the Ethiopian people and government, we can't show their pictures).

Bethelihem is stunningly beautiful with a perfectly shaped face, eyes and lips.  She is very reserved around adults.  The nannies said she interacts and talks to her peers and to her brother, but it's very difficult to get her to interact with adults.  That said, she was content to have us hold her, cuddle her, feed her.  She was happy to have Leigh carry her around, and the only emotion she showed was a reluctance to let go of his neck when it was time to put her down for us to go. 

The children and their nannies speak Woylaita which is one of 80 languages spoken in Ethiopia.  The national language is Amharic, but in this remote place, most people don't speak it.  As such, we won't have a dictionary to look up what are kids are saying, so the first several weeks/months is likely going to be frustrating for everyone.

All told, we spent an hour with them.  Playing with them, asking their caretakers to tell us words for common things like "I'm hungry, I'm tired, I have to go the bathroom," what they like to eat (Endrias says "meat, eggs, spaghetti and macaroni"; all stuff I can cook) and what their sleep schedule is like.  We found out what types of toys they like to play with (mostly blocks) and what they like to do.  It was precious, and then it was over. 

The hour flew by and it was time for us to go.  Leaving them was one of the hardest things we've ever had to do.  We asked the nannies to tell them that we are coming back for them, which they did several times.  The children have seen this many times: parents coming, meeting kids, and then around 2 months later the kids get transported to the capitol city in anticipation of the parents return.  We were so afraid they thought that we didn't want them, but the seemed to understand what was going on.

We got back in the van, and cried as it took us to meet the other group of parents as they left their care center in Durame.  Once we met up with the other group, we all piled into a van together and were taken another three and a half hours up a bumpy dirt road to Awassa to stay the night.  We were exhilirated and exhausted, elated and depressed.  We settled in for a good night's sleep.

Good Morning Ethiopia: March 10 2011

After 28 hours of traveling we arrived at Bole airport in Addis Abeba at 10 pm local time.  Our adoption agency, Holt International, had a driver waiting for us and he wisked us off to the hotel where we are staying.  The staff are very friendly, the accommodations are modern and we promptly went to bed, slept 9 hours, got up for breakfast, went back to bed  and slept another 7 hours.  Now it’s 5 pm and we’re just “hangin’ out.”  The hotel is close to the airport but fairly sequestered with a guard, gate, high walls and razor wire.  We’ve been told to only go out with an “approved” car and driver, which we had scheduled for 2 pm today, but slept through.  Ah well.

From what we can see, Addis Abeba is lovely surrounded by mountains and with a clear blue sky above.  The Ethiopians we have encountered in the airport and our hotel are beautiful people with warm smiles and calm demeanors.

Tomorrow morning we will leave at 6:30 am with a group of adoptive parents to Durame, the village with the orphanage where our kids are.  We will have an opportunity to spend several hours with the kids, but our understanding is that we’ll be introduced as “visitors” since the adoption isn’t finalized.  We’ll have to take the lead from our professionals at the adoption agency on how we conduct ourselves because it seems like it will be awkward.  Of course, we’ll want to stretch our arms around them and hug and kiss them, but that is likely not allowed and would probably be terrifying for them given that they don’t know who we are and we are probably amongst only a handful of white people they have ever seen.  In any event, we are so excited and overwhelmed and thrilled to be here in this moment, this turning point of our (and their) lives.

Fallen off the edge of the earth (or just the grid)

We know many of you have been logging in to the blog to follow our trip to Ethiopia.
Though we were warned that access to the internet may be slow or unreliable, we interpreted that with American eyes. The reality is that we had almost no access to the internet that was fast enough even to handle e-mail. The best internet cafe we could find still did not have enough capacity for me to even open the blog to enter. So, sorry to disappoint. In contrast, I'm entering into the blog right now as we drive back to Rochester from Minneapolis with my 3G enabled IPad.

We had an extremely eventful trip. I don't want to skip on any of the details, so I'm going to enter just as if the events are happening in real time, starting tomorrow. For tonight, we just need to rest from what has been the trip of a lifetime.

On our way

Well, we are sitting in the Amsterdam airport after our first leg of the trip. Soon we will board another plane for another 8 hour flight to Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia. So far so good...

Charmed

The picture above is of a lovely charm necklace my friend Julie Nordeen gave to me soon after we received the referral for Endrias and Bethelihem.  She knows how important it is to have something to touch to remind us that this is real.  The gold charm has a "B" on it for Bethel, because she's small and precious.  The round silver charm has "E" for Endrias, because he's bigger and stronger and Bethel's protector.  The square charm has "Once upon a time" inscribed, because our story as a family started "once upon a time, far far away."  Thanks Julie for this thoughtful and precious gift.  I will wear it to Ethiopia when we meet our kids on Saturday, when it all becomes so real.

Concerns Over Ethiopia Adoption News Report

There has been a news story from a single source (Voice of America) reporting that the Ethiopian government agency responsible for processing international adoptions will cut the number of cases they review from 50 to 5 per day.  We have had several friends and family contact us about this change and how it might affect our adoption.  The short answer is, we're not sure.  First, this story has yet to be confirmed by other sources.  It is not currently listed as an alert on the U.S.  Department of State website.  Second, if it is true, we don't really know whether it will affect our family given that we already have a court date in Ethiopia.  In the meantime, we have our bags packed and our ready to get on an airplane on Wednesday 3/9/11. 

The adoption journey is a bumpy one for everyone involved.  We are committed to being flexible and calm throughout the process and understand that there are many variables that can impact us along the way.  We appreciate your support and prayers and we will keep you all updated on the process as soon as we have news.

Travel Plans

A week from now we will be tossing and turning in anticipation for our first trip to Ethiopia.  We have started packing (well, I have) and gathering all the things we need: hand sanitizer, mosquito repellant, various medications for all sorts of eventualities.  We are also bringing school supplies for a favorite charity, "Love for Ethiopia."

We have been working on gifts to bring Endrias and Bethelihem on our first meeting.  Our agency has told us we can't bring toys or clothes or jewelry, but something that will be uniquely theres and can be shared with others.  So we put together a photobook for each of them that has their names on the front and pictures of them and of us and our dog Max all in the same book.  Our first family album.  We hope that they will look at the books in the coming weeks and begin to understand how we all fit together.

We expect it to be 8 - 12 weeks between our first visit and our second when we bring them home.  We are so excited for the profound and monumental change we know this will be.