It's all in the timing

If you look to the right, you'll see the timeline for our second adoption. Two years ago today was an important day for us. It was the day that everything for our dossier and homestudy for our second adoption was officially, really and truly, complete. It meant... wait list soon.

The month of April 2009 was a really tough month for me on the adoption front. We kept getting delay after delay-- something wasn't right, a hassle here, a hassle there. All the while, I was ready. Ready. READY. READY!! to get on that wait list for our second daughter.

I remember my social worker sending me an email to tell me that those stupid child abuse checks weren't going to be done for weeks. Then, it took (seemingly) forever for those weeks to pass and for our homestudy to be completely ready. With our second adoption, we did a lot of the hurry up and wait that so many people talk about.

Being powerless to control my own fate and the fate of my family was... frustrating. Beyond frustrating. As anyone who knows me in "real life" can attest, I'm not a patient person by nature, and I like to be in control. Waiting for something to be completed, waiting for a homestudy to be written or reviewed, or waiting to get put on a waiting list, they were all very hard for me.

This is why adoption the second time around was both easier and more difficult at the same time. Easier because we knew where to go and what to do and how the process worked. More difficult because of those same reasons, and of course, I'd also assigned my own ideas about how, when, where things should take place.

Even though we're not in the process to adopt again (and won't be ready for a little while longer), I'm still on my agency's listserv. Recently, there's been some talk about the lack of referrals and how painful the waiting is. People are getting discouraged, and I don't blame them one iota. I know the feeling, oh, how I know the feeling.

(Of course I'd also argue that the waiting for a referral is nothing compared to the pain of the waiting after the referral. The time between seeing R's face for the first time and holding her in my arms were some of the darkest, most painful months of my life-- probably even worse than when my grandmother died, which was horrific for me. I thought my heart was going to break in half. I could hardly bear the pain of those months. I cried. A lot. I was probably pretty useless to my family, friends, and students during that time, too. I literally felt the pain in my chest being lifted from my body when I held her the first time. For that reason, the emotion I felt when I finally did hold her was relief. I was so relieved that it was actually really happening, that she was actually my child. Up until that point, I kept waiting for something to happen that would keep us from her. Anyway, I digress...)

Hindsight, as "they" say, is 20/20. Looking back, knowing E's journey (what little of it I've been able to piece together) to us, it make sense. I can't tell you specifically what she was doing on this day 2 years ago, but obviously she wasn't ready to come home yet. Looking back, I can see how all the painful pieces of our waiting fit together... If we'd been a week earlier or even a few days later, it wouldn't be our E who fell asleep in my arms last night or whose voice called to me from her bedroom this morning or whose lips I kissed as she left to go to my friend M's house for the day.

In my agency's welcome to the program packet, there's a letter from the case managers. I don't know if it still says this, but when we got it both times, it said something like "at the end of your adoption journey, you will be a parent, you will have a child," etc. So, even though the waiting and process are painful and can be heartbreaking, in the end, I'm a mom, times 2. It really and truly does happen.

It can be long. It can be hard. It can push you right to the edge and dangle you there... but in the end, you really and truly will bring your child home. What happens after that, well, that can be painful and difficult, too, but that's for another post.

Cuteness. Extreme Cuteness.

Ugh, so frustrated. I've been trying two nights in a row to upload some recent pictures and have not been able to do it. I promise that the pictures are indeed extreme cuteness.

You were celebrated. And loved.

My E at referral at age 8 months. (The youngest known picture of her.)

My E at her 2nd birthday in Feb. (Amazes me sometimes that these pictures are the same child.)

I'm in the process (along with some other ET adoptive moms) of planning this year's culture camp. We had a meeting on Sunday, and we had invited some of the ladies from a nearby Ethiopian church. Two of the ladies from the church are not in fact Ethiopian, but a mother and daughter who have spent a lot of time in Ethiopia (both speaking Amharic and might as well be Ethiopian with everything they know about the culture and how much of their lives they've given to Ethiopia, etc...)

Anyway, we started talking about Ethiopian traditions and culture and how much more of an emphasis there is on the cycle of life in Ethiopia. Like how when a child is born, he or she is celebrated by the whole community-- everyone congratulations the ENTIRE family, not just the new mom and dad. Why? Because the family has gained a child. If someone dies, there is now another person to take their place. Children are adored, celebrated. Family stays and helps the new parents (new mom, really) for a good month, and the new mom is pampered. People celebrate the child in a way that we don't necessarily do in the United States.

It made me think about my E's birth. (I know "a lot" about R's birth in comparison so I don't have to infer as much there.) Did her family celebrate? Did everyone stay and help her birthmom as she adjusted to a new baby? When E cried, was she doted on by family members? Were her needs met? Was she adored? Loved?

Likewise, when she was relinquished, was she mourned? Did her birthfamily wail and cry for her as if she had died? Could you hear the cries from a quarter mile away? Do they think of her? Cry for her still? Miss her still? (How could they not?)

I want my E to know that even though we don't know much about the first part of her life in Ethiopia with her birthfamily, she was loved. Her birth was celebrated. She was wanted and cherished and when she left, she was missed.

E, I promise someday I will have more answers for you... for me... for us both. And I want her birthfamily in Ethiopia to know that she is still celebrated, loved, and cherished.

Facebook

I think Facebook is so weird. I've been on it for a little over a year-- right after we brought E home, I joined mainly to stay in touch with members of our travel group. (And because my BFF wouldn't stop harassing me about it.)

However, now I'm "friends" on Facebook with people from high school, some co-workers, other adoptive parents, my friends, and family. I think the family "friends" are the weirdest for me. I was just looking at some pictures of my cousin B, who's about 7 years younger than me and whom I haven't seen in about 8 years (at least I THINK she came to my wedding...). B doesn't post much, but her younger sister, my cousin M, does. M's a college student, and, for the life of me, I have no real memories of her from childhood (or B and M's even younger brother, N, for that matter!). To be honest, I have no clue how I even became "friends" with them on Facebook to begin with.

I do remember B, though, as she was born before my grandma died. I think she was probably about 4 when that happened, so we would have spent time together for the first four years of her life. My brother J and I used to call her "B the Brat," umm, because she was... a brat... when she was really young. It's weird to see her now as an adult with a fiancé and a career and a life.

It's also weird to me that I have cousins I don't really know. I wish that my parents would have made it more of a priority for our family to, well, stay a family after my grandma died. I guess that happens, but I think it is sad that I'm "friends" with these strangers who are also my cousins.

I think in that aspect, it is nice that Facebook is around to keep us in touch in some way or another. Even if I don't really know my cousins anymore, I do enjoy reading their updates and keeping touch with them at least in some way.

Choices

So, my "little" brother (he's 6.5 years younger than I am) is house hunting. I'm happy for him, really I am. I found myself getting a little jealous today as he described the house he and his girlfriend (I call her the girls' future Aunt L) are planning to buy. It's in a nicer, more affluent suburb than the one we live in, and the house is a good $50,000 more than our house was when we bought it in 2004. It is 800 square feet larger than my home. He and his girlfriend have a huge amount to put down as a down payment. We had next to nothing to put down when we bought our home! As he described the house with excitement and a smile in his voice, I found myself getting more and more grumpy about the whole thing. I was unhappy about my little brother's good fortune. And thinking why in the heck A and I didn't pick professions that pay more?!? I often feel like we're just getting by and never have money to get ahead.

But then I thought about the amount of money we spent to bring our girls home. True, had we not adopted our 2 girls in less than 3 years, we would be a lot better off financially than we are now. But then we wouldn't have our girls... Obviously, there is no question which life I would chose if it were between being better off financially or having my daughters!

So, the jealousy in my heart about my brother is gone, and I just feel happy for him and proud that he's ready to take this next big step in his life-- becoming a home owner. I guess it is all about perspective.

New Look!

What do you think? I thought it was time to include my E in the header for one thing!! :) And I was ready for a change. I think it is pretty darn cute myself.

Precious

Is there anything more precious than a baby, a sweet, happy, good natured, joyful baby? I think not. This is how I would describe my sweet E.

Tonight, we took a walk (thank god spring is nearly here where we are-- it's been a loooonnnng winter), and E spotted the moon.

And jumped, arms outstretched, to reach it.

Yes, baby girl, jump for the moon. Someday, I think you just might reach it. And when you do, I suspect you will hug it and give it a big, full-lipped kiss.

There's been a lot of talk lately about Ethiopian adoption, as you all know. I've been thinking about our two adoptions and that some think it is wrong to adopt infants when there are waiting children.

In our case, we'd planned to adopt a waiting child our second time around. I could even picture what she'd look like. And then our agency said we couldn't adopt out of birth order. That meant-- if we were to pursue adoption using "our" agency-- that we'd have to adopt an infant as R was barely one (15 months, to be exact) when we started our second adoption.

We chose to stick with our agency and bring another baby girl home.

I don't know who's right and who's wrong in debate about infant vs. waiting child. Both routes have risks, pros, and cons. All I do know is that had adopted an older child... we wouldn't have E.

And then, where would I be? I'd be without MY girl.

My girl who jumps for moon and expects to catch it.

My girl who kisses me on both my cheeks, my lips, and my nose and gives the biggest hugs before going to bed each night.

My girl who loves to sing and dance.

My girl who brings such joy to our family.

My girl who loves passionately and deeply.

My girl who has already proven herself to be a loyal and loving friend.

My girl who is the perfect daughter for our family.

As she jumped for the moon tonight, I thanked God, a silent prayer, for being her momma. I can't imagine my life without her.

I love you, E-poodle.

Attachment

I recently stumbled across this blog as I was reading someone else's. She's asking for adoptive parents to be real about attachment. So here are my two cents about the topic:

With my R, A and I attached to her very quickly. I loved her right away and felt she was mine from the first time I saw her little face staring back at me in those referral pictures. And when we met, she attached to us, too. She wasn't sure about A for maybe a day, and then we really were that happy little adoption story. This being said, R went through a huge period of jealousy when E came home and felt very insecure for a good one to two months. Life was hard at that point for us all, for that reason and reasons I'll discuss below. With R, most of the time, things are simple. We love each other. We drive each other nuts, but she knows that I'm her momma and that she is loved and safe.

With my E, though, it was a different story. I didn't feel the instant connection and love when I gazed at her referral picture. I was expecting her to look completely different, to be a different child, I suppose, and although I felt strongly that she was the girl for our family, I didn't feel the instant and complete, head-over-heels love I did for R.

This carried into our first meeting, when E screamed her baby lungs out. I suspect that she was expecting a different momma! The pictures from our "gotcha" moment are, quite frankly, hard to look at. She's screaming and pulling away from me, and I look horrified, miserable, and pained. I was worried that A and I had made a huge mistake in adopting her when we were in Ethiopia and when we boarded the plane for home.

Indeed, for the first month or so, I felt like I was baby-sitting someone else's sick and sad child. It was hard for me to get to know her, to love her at first. Knowing her and loving her now, I imagine she must have been so scared at first. E is VERY smart, and I am sure she had some awareness that something was happening and that she was being uprooted yet again. (I often try to imagine her first days and weeks after being relinquished by her birth mother. All I see is sadness. Oh, how my poor precious child must have grieved the loss of her birth mother.)

So, it makes sense. In her world, mommas were people who abandoned you and left forever and broke your heart. I understand it now even more than I did then. Slowly though, over the days, weeks, and months home, my E started to become, well my E. She became healthier (she had giardia and some other issues when she came home) and gained weight. We stayed close to home and cocooned. She started to feel more like my child, and I suppose to her I started to feel more like her momma.

The journey of attachment is not easy. I feel that my girls are attached to us and us to them, now... But every once in a while, E will have a day in which she cries-- A LOT-- or weeks when R has sleep issues (the place where her attachment and grieving tend to manifest themselves), and we have to take a few steps back.

On those hard days and in those dark nights, I hold my girls. I pray for healing in their hearts and for the aching to go away. I don't think we'll ever reach our destination on the journey to complete attachment, and some days that scares me. But I also don't know anything different.

What are your thoughts, struggles, successes when it comes to attachment?

I am blessed.

Really, is there anything more to say? ...

Happy 2nd birthday, E, and happy 3rd R Day to my R. I love you both so very much.

Sick Babies

I'm home from work today with my two sick babies. They have high fevers, super runny noses, and hacking coughs. Poor things. They are so pathetic. R hasn't hardly eaten anything in several days, and E's nose will not stop running. I'm hoping they are better soon because I need to be at work tomorrow. We have a 2 hour late start for the kids for a PD session that I have to lead... soooo it won't really work if I'm not there.

We did manage to get the girls' photos taken yesterday despite the sickness. The pictures were for E's birthday, but of course, my R also got in on the action, too. I went to a new person this time, and she posted some preview photos from it on facebook. I can't wait to see the rest-- the ones she posted are beautiful! I will share some in a few days once the photographer is finished editing them!

Happy Birthday, Baby Doll!

Today is my E's 2nd birthday. What can I say? She's such an amazing and funny and sweet little thing. She has such a caring heart and sensitive little soul, but she's so tough, too, and she's not afraid to stand up to her sassy big sister. She loves deeply and can always make me smile when I'm upset. She is a miracle.

I think today about her birthfamily, across the world in Ethiopia. I think about where they live, the place where my daughter was born and lived the first 8 months of her life. I long to tell them that she is ok... that she is loved... that she's sleeping tonight in a warm bed with at least 6 dolls cuddled up with her...

Tonight, at birthday cake time, she sang "Happy Birthday" to herself right along with us. She shared her icing with her big sister when R asked for more. She made her scary lion face and danced in her seat.

I love her so very much. I thank God that we started our 2nd adoption when we did and that by His miracle, she became my daughter.

My sweet E, I love you forever.

Ethiopian Sun-- 3 Years Later

On "E" Day in Dec., I posted the story I tell the girls about the first time A, E, and I met each other last year. I'll do the same today, telling the story of meeting R for the first time. I can't believe that it has been 3 years since the first time I held my daughter.

Anyway, here is the story I tell R about when we met one another...

Mommy and Daddy decided to adopt a little girl from Ethiopia so they filled out all the paperwork and waited a long time. Finally, it was time for them to fly to Ethiopia to bring their tiny baby girl home. So Mommy and Daddy flew over the ocean to Africa, over the mountains of Ethiopia and into Addis Ababa, where R was. When we got to Ethiopia, it was nighttime, and Mommy and Daddy were very tired. Y and D picked us up and drove us to the hotel.

The next morning, Mommy and Daddy came downstairs and ate breakfast with the other families who were there to bring their little babies home. Finally, it was time for Mommy and Daddy to go up the hill and around the corner and through the gates of *our agency's home* and into the courtyard. When we got into the courtyard, all the babies were our in the sun getting baby massages and napping.

From across the courtyard, we spotting our tiny baby because of her little curly head and her tiny baby toes. She was sitting in a bouncy seat facing away from us, but as we got closer, Mommy and Daddy said, "That's her! That's our baby daughter!'

Someone handed R to Mommy, and Mommy kissed R on the forehead. When Mommy looked at R's sweet face, R was smiling at Mommy. Daddy couldn't take his eyes off his tiny beautiful baby! Mommy, Daddy, and R were a family forever.

... And that is the story I tell my daughter about that beautiful meeting 3 years ago today. With R, we had the perfect, fairy tale first meeting. R attached to us quickly, so quickly in fact that I've often said she was waiting for us just as much as we were waiting for her. My biggest emotion when I held her for the first time was the biggest sense of relief. Relief that after all the longing for her-- the gut wrenching, horrible heart ache and longing of the time when we were waiting between referral and travel-- was completely lifted. This perfect and beautiful child was in my arms-- forever. R is my miracle. The daughter I had prayed for and longed for for all the time I had waited to be a mother.

We were fortunate, so very fortunate, that our first days and weeks together were totally lovely. It was such an amazing experience, and it truly was perfect. Not ALL first meetings of children in adoption are perfect. In fact, most are far from it (remember, the first time we met E was horrible!!), and I am so thankful for that. Maybe some of you reading this are rolling your eyes and gagging. Had I had the first meeting experience we'd had with E first, I would feel totally different. We were so prepared for R to totally reject us, and we were so lucky that it was a completely opposite experience.

R, my precious R, I love you so very much. My heart ached for you and longed for you until 3 years ago today when we met for the first time. I am so thankful to be your mom. You, my daughter, are strong-willed and sassy. Sometimes I get frustrated. Sometimes I yell. But, at the end of the day, my dear, I adore you. I treasure you. I am so thankful that God chose me to be your mother. Three years have gone by in a blink, and I can wait to see what you do next!

3 Years

It's been 3 years (today) since A and I started on the journey across the sea to go bring our R home. I cannot believe how quickly the time has flown by! I am thinking tonight about how I felt as we made our way to Ethiopia. I think about how much my heart ached and longed and hurt for her until I held her in my arms. There are no words to describe what it was like to finally be on our way to bring our precious, tiny baby. (She was just a little over 3 months old at the time.) For my daughter, I had waited for a long time. 3 years ago today, that wait was almost over.

Lovely

I think that is the only way to describe the past few days. I was able to attend the Created for Care adoptive moms retreat... and I brought my E so she could be reunited with her ET BFF, B, because my dear friend S was able to go at the very last minute!!

The whole trip was amazing from start to finish. First, my E was a wonderful traveler. My girl only cried a few times the entire weekend, and it was only when she was dead tired. She was smiley and happy and precious. She played with B like they'd never been apart. I LOVED LOVED LOVED seeing the two of them together again. I know you might not believe me, but I know those girls remembered each other. Even though S and B leave across the country from us, I know that E and B will always share a bond and friendship.

Speaking of, can I just tell you how much I loved meeting S in person!? Finally. It was so amazing to just be able to meet face to face!

The retreat was so awesome. 250 woman-- all brought together through adoption. Many different agencies, international, domestic... All of us there for a weekend specifically designed for us. I loved being reunited with some travel buddy friends and people whose blogs I've faithfully followed through their journeys. And I got to meet so many others, too!! The whole weekend, from start to finish, was such a blessings and was something I desperately needed!

On a totally unrelated side note, E, apparently, has decided it is time that she was potty trained. On Sat. night, she told me to take off her diaper because she had to potty... and she did!! And she did it again tonight. I had planned to start working on potty training over my spring break, but at this point, it appears she's begun to potty train herself! Is there anyway to explain how much I love that tiny, precious, beautiful, smart, funny, clever, joyful, amazing child??? And her sister, too, of course.

What did I EVER do to be this blessed? Yes, life can be hard and has been overwhelming lately, but my children truly are so amazing.

Been Thinkin'...

...A lot lately about the girls' birthmoms and birthfamilies.

Now, this might have something to do with the fact that I have 2 photo books burning a hole in my kitchen counter as they have been sitting there since early December, just waiting for me to mail them to our agency already!! (A is going to do it tomorrow for me.)

It may have something to do with the fact that I finally got a reply to an email inquiring about birthfamily contact that I'd sent to our adoption case manager weeks ago after reading something on my agency's listserv.

It may be that R has been asking a lot of questions again lately. Tonight, about both her birthmother and her birthfather-- as well as her sister's birthfamily.

It may be that I showed some pictures to E of her with her birthmom yesterday. To which she pointed at her birthmom and said, "Mommy!" (Is there any way possible that she remembers her birthmom and knows who she is?)

It may be that E will be two in a few weeks, and I've been thinking a lot about that.

I mean, the thing is I think about the girls' birthfamilies A LOT on a general basis. Multiple times daily... And when I do think of them, I always pause to pray for them. I wrestle constantly with the fact that I don't know more about my girls' first families. I am their mother, but that does not change the fact that two other women were their mothers first.

Sorry this blog has been a bit of a downer lately. I suppose it is because I've been in a bit of a funk the past month or so.

Memory

25 years ago, I sat in my first grade classroom and watched on live TV while the Challenger blew up in a million pieces right before my eyes. I was 6 at the time, and I believe that event was the first really tragic moment I truly remember. When I got home, I told my mom about it. She was home that day and was very pregnant with my little brother. (He was born on Feb. 6 of that year.) I remember her not believing me. She said something like, "honey there is alway a lot of smoke when shuttles go into space. That's probably what you saw." Finally, after my insistence, she turned on the TV and saw I was right.

I remember the Challenger explosion through the eyes of a child, and I always sort of pinpoint that event as the first thing that I can truly remember where I was and what I was doing. There are other moments-- of course-- since then that I can remember the wheres and when. 9/11, when my grandparents died, other tragedies both public and personal.

I know the man who was the runner-up in the search for the first teacher to go into space. He lives in my area, works at a local university, and has been a consultant for my school district for several years. He trained alongside Christa McAuliffe just in case she could not go for some reason. I think sometimes about how much that would have changed me. Getting that close to something that amazing, training for it, and then, watching shuttle blow up into a million pieces.

I think sometimes we get so close, want something so badly, and then... we don't get it. Or then again, maybe we do. Maybe we get what we need in other ways, at other times. There have been things in life I wanted so badly and not gotten. At the time, it is hard to keep it in perspective and to understand. Time passes, wounds heal. There are new wants and needs. Doesn't that happen in life a thousand times?

I don't really know where I'm going with all this. I guess, I just know that when I look back on my life, I don't want to have regrets about how it turned out. I want to know that the path I take and the decisions I have made were good and right and the best I could have made. How does that connect to the 25th anniversary of the Challenger disaster? It's my blog. I don't always have to make sense!

Can't Forget

It was late and raining when we touched down in Addis Ababa. I was exhausted from 26+ hours of travel. So happy to back in Ethiopia to bring our second daughter home. Returning to Ethiopia was, after all, a homecoming of sorts. I felt confident and calm as we loaded the van, hopped in, and started the journey from the airport to our hotel.

People on the streets. Homeless. This time, unlike last time, begging children do not swarm the van, thank god.

We chat with the others who are in our travel group, and A and I start to recognize some landmarks.

We stop at a light, a rarity in Ethiopia.

A man emerges from under the cover of a tree and approaches the van.

He is practically naked, wearing only gym (basketball) shorts. Rain rolls down his face. His feet are bare. The elastic has come out of the shorts so he holds them bunched in one hand.

In the other, a piece of paper. The paper has some writing on it and a photograph. He speaks to us, his voice desperately pleading. We cannot understand what he is saying. His expression is one of pain, of suffering, of agony. I don't think I will ever forget what his face looked like.

No one in the van gives him money. All, I think, are in shock as the light changes and drive away.

I cannot tell you how often I think of this man, alone, desperate, begging to people in a van. For what? I do not know.

But I do know that I wish I would have reached into my bag and handed him some birr. Even in saying this, it is for a selfish reason-- so that I would not feel the way I do now about that man, so that I would not think about him and wish I had handled the situation differently.

Sometimes, the suffering and pain and poverty of the people of my children's beautiful homeland overwhelms me. I feel helpless to do anything. I think of that man on that night and other equally horrifying things I experienced in my 2 trips to bring our children home.

Please, God, forgive me for not helping that man.

New House

My parents are building a new house. It's been a long time coming (they bought the land over two years ago by now and had the plans for it shortly after that), but they'd been waiting to sell their current house to start it. Considering that only 3 people have looked at their house in the past 12 months, that's not seeming to happen anytime soon. But, anyway, due to a few factors, they decided to go ahead and start with construction in Nov. The girls and I went with my dad last week to see the progress and for the girls to pick out which bedroom will be their room-- the princess bedroom. Here are a few pictures!

The front of the house...

Peering through the construction.

Babies looking out the window of "their" bedroom. Nice view of the lake!

The Luxury of Water

I read the book A Long Walk to Water this week. It is a YA lit book about Sudan based on the life story of a Sudanese man who was one of what is known as the Lost Boys of Sudan. The book actually follows his story but is juxtaposed with a story of a young girl whose daily task is walking miles and miles to gather water for her family each day.

The Sudanese man started a non-profit that builds wells for villages in Sudan. So I've been thinking a lot this week.

First, about how to integrate this book in my curriculum for next year, and I think I've found a way. (Oh, yeah, I'm probably going to be teaching 8th grade again next year.) With another book I taught, my students did a huge research project on non-profits that do good around the world and in our own community. Most of my students lack the ability to see outside our community for a variety of reasons. Anyway, I was trying to figure out how combine both the novel I previously used with this new one. I'm actually really excited by the idea of using this book along with the other one, which is a piece of historical fiction. I feel like my students need to be able to connect with something current; the book was published in 2010...

Second, another adoptive mom I "know" recently returned to Ethiopia. One thing that struck me from reading about her experiences was that she said that people in southern Ethiopia were constantly searching for water. That is their whole lives, the finding of water, which is necessary for survival.

And, then there's me. I have the luxury of going to any one of the faucets in my house, turning on water, and using as much of it as I want with the guarantee that it is safe for my family and for me. I think of those people of southern Ethiopia whose children cannot go to school because their job is to gather water... something I take for granted.

I don't understand why I have the privilege of living in a country where water is an afterthought, while the people of my children's birth country do not have access to water... and if they do, it may or may not (usually not) safe for them to drink and use.

How the hell is that fair?

D.I.V.A.

The Plunge

Some travel group friends of ours are starting their second adoption process this week. Like I told her, in a lot of ways, I wish we were ready to start again!

For example, as I drove today to pick up the girls from work, I was thinking a lot about our next adoption. I had almost convinced myself that of course we were ready! Let's go! I'll tell A tonight that we should start again. Sure, we have less than 1/2 the money we'd need to fund another adoption and our kids are little.... But R would be 4 and E 3 when a new child came home... That's doable, right??? Yeah, we can totally do that. Let's go! E's been home a year, and it was when R was home a year that we started the process for a second time. I'll call my case manager tonight and email our social worker!

Umm, riiiight. That's easy to convince oneself in the quiet of the car (ok, van!) as I drive to pick up the babies. And then I pick up the kids. I love them dearly, but R was crazy tonight again, and E is definitely entering the terrible twos (will be 2 next month) as well.

And I realize how incredibly crazy I am.

There is no way.

I mean, come on! Like I've said before, I'm not ready yet. No way. I feel like I'm already not a great mom for my 2 precious girls. It would be unfair to add another child to our family now-- unfair to A and me, to the girls, and of course to another child. I don't know how people with lots of little ones do it. Being a mom is so overwhelming to me sometimes.

I'm just not ready to take the plunge...

Good Bye, 2010

I keep thinking that I'll just end this blog at some point, but over the past couple days, I've been rereading some of my posts from the beginning of this year... There are all these little details that are sort of blurry and fuzzy around the edges until I read what I wrote about them in my posts. For that reason, I'm going to try to keep on writing.

I suppose I should do a year-in-review post as the last one of this crazy year, but I'm not going to. The year in review is this: On New Year's Day, we became a family of 4. Everything else has been the journey that stems from that single event.

Tomorrow, we'll celebrate "Family Day," the day that our family was united, the day we brought E home. We will celebrate quietly as a family.

I can't think of a better way to spend the first day of 2011.

Happy New Year, my friends.

A Year

A year ago, we were in ET to bring our E home. I really can't believe that we are at the year mark already. On E Day (Dec. 27th), we were on vacation without internet access, so I wasn't able to post anything on that day. I've written a lot about the day we met E, so today, I'm going to share the story I tell my girls about when we met E.

Mommy and Daddy flew all through the day and the night, all the way into Ethiopia, to Addis Ababa where E lived until it was time to bring her home. When we got to Ethiopia, it was night, and it was raining. We were very tired so we went to the hotel and went to bed. (R will ask always who drove us to the hotel-- so I tell her that, too.)

When we got up the next morning, it was the day we were going to meet our baby daughter, E. Mommy and Daddy came downstairs and ate breakfast and met some of the other families who were going to meet their children, too. Finally, A came to take us to meet our girl.

So, Mommy and Daddy went up the hill and around the corner and through the gates of {our agency's home} and into the court yard. This time, all the babies were sleeping (When we met R, they were all in the court yard, as it was morning) because it was nap time. Mommy and Daddy waited while other families met their babies.

Finally, A said, "J family, come in" so we followed A into the house where E was. As we walked up the stairs, a special mother was carrying a screaming baby down the steps. Mommy thought, "I'm glad that's not our crying baby!" But then the special mother said, "T? T's mom?" and handed E to Mommy.

E was so scared when she first met Mommy and Daddy and she didn't like us at first. She cried and cried because she didn't know who we were and she had just been awoken from a nap. Finally, E went back to sleep, and Mommy and Daddy were able to look at her face and see how pretty she was. Mommy, Daddy, and E were a family forever.

So, for better or for worse, this is the story I tell my children about first meeting E. What I don't tell her (yet) is how terrified I was that our girl was so scared and how completely rejected me. I don't tell her that ANY Ethiopian was better than me for her while we were ET and that it broke my heart to see her tense up and tear up as soon as I came near.

My precious, precious E. We have come so far in a year, and I'm so thankful to be your mother. You are my little love, my E-poodle, and I will love you forever.

Break!! Vacation!! Christmas!!

All of these things are happening this week. I'm so thankful that I finally gave in at the end of my freshman year of college and decided to declare education as my major. (Also glad that I choose language arts instead of French. Can you imagine??) I love being able to be off work and with my children. It truly is an amazing blessing to be able to automatically have time off to spend holidays with my family.

Speaking of work, there is a new development... The coaching program is changing so the one thing that is certain is that I will NOT be in my current position next year. Two options:
1. Return to the classroom (hopefully 8th grade language arts)

2. Apply and interview for a position that has been created because of Race to the Top funds. It is more a curriculum support position than it is an instructional coaching position so it will be posted to the entire district... No guarantee that I'd get the job so I might just end up with #1 being my only option. Honestly, I don't even know what all is involved in this job. The State still really doesn't know!

I have a meeting with the HR director on Jan. 3 at 1pm, as the curriculum director wants to know what the coaches' intentions are by Jan. 7. A wants me to not even interview for the RttT job and just return to the classroom. He says I was happier as a teacher than I am as coach, and he's probably right. But.... I don't want to be in the classroom my whole career, and, like the coaching position, this other one has the potential to be a stepping stone to another job (one I would want long term).

Regardless, the good news is that I will not be working exclusively in the building I'm in now, which is a relief. The RttT position is working with grades 5-12, and if I would be back in the classroom, my license isn't even for the grade level I work with now so I wouldn't be placed there.

We leave for vacation on Wed. morning for a week. Looking forward to getting away with my whole family! I'm nervous about the plane ride with the girls, as R has been umm, not good lately and E just in the past week has decided "No" is her favorite word. I have to say that it has been a struggle. I feel like I'm just barely staying afloat right now when it comes to the girls.

R was HORRIBLE today at church, and I ended up leaving early. R ran back into the service while E stood in the back of church by herself because I had to run back in after her. Then E fell and cut herself right under the nose and was screaming for me to hold her while I was trying to carry a kicking and screaming R. It was awful and embarrassing and stressful. I had just wanted to spend a Sunday morning at church with my girls, and it ended in disaster. I do not know what to do with R when she is behaving that way. I'm terrified of what the future holds for her. And I'm so frustrated by it. Why is it that I can maintain order and discipline with a classroom of 25+ 8th grade students but cannot manage to control my 3 year old?

I love my girl so much. R was the answer to many a prayer to have a daughter someday. She's an amazing child and is so full of life and goodness. But she will not listen or do what I say without a struggle. It can be something as simple as washing her hands after using the bathroom to something as major as the incident this morning at church. I just want my home to be calm and peaceful. Sometimes I feel so tense that my heart might explode.

Just get me through this week.

Today was hard. R had a major meltdown before leaving the house, during the ride to the sitter's, and as I was trying to leave her house to get to work. As I pulled out of the driveway, all I saw was her little beautiful face crying for me in the window.

And, yet, I went to work. With tears in my eyes and my heart broken in half. This just simply does not help my work situation. Yes, I know I blather on about it, but that's what is going on in my world right now. I just can't stand it sometimes, and it has become progressively worse since coming back from Thanksgiving break.

We, the coaches, have a meeting with the curriculum director on Thursday. Our supervisor has not told us what the agenda is, but our guess is that he will tell us what is going to happen to the instructional coaching program for next year. The best news for me would be that I am able to go back to the classroom-- in my home building. We knew going into this job that it was a 2 year contract, so I am hoping that is what will happen. On the other hand, there is no guarantee that will happen, and I very well could be stuck where I am right now again next year.

I just need this meeting to be over so I know, one way or the other.

My R has been acting out a lot lately, too. She was just out of sorts all weekend, and I'm sure that coupled with a snowday yesterday and a late start today, has her all out of routine. I'm tired of fighting her on everything. Her two favorite things to say right now are "NO I WON'T!" and "NO, YOU ARE WRONG MOMMY!" I am trying to deal with her with patience and grace, but I feel like I'm failing.

I just need to get through the next few days and be on break.

So, yeah, get the meeting over and get this week over. I don't feel like that's asking too much.

Check this out...

I really want to win one of these ornaments! And, if you win, you should send it to me for tell you about it! Haha!!

http://pitterpatterart.wordpress.com/2010/12/12/elf-fun-giveaway/

3 Years Ago Today

I became a mom 3 years ago today when we received our referral for R. I can still remember vividly the moment I opened an email from my case manager saying she was trying to get a hold of me to talk to us about something.

That "something" was my daughter, my precious R. I remember shaking and crying while my case manager told me my daughter's story. The joy of telling A he was a father. The feeling when I saw the first picture of her.

And the longing. The heart breaking, heart aching longing for this child of mine. The time between referral and our traveling to Ethiopia was the hardest time of my life. My heart hurt and longed for my daughter. It was a physical aching that I had never experienced before.

For my daughter, I had prayed. R was the answer to many a prayer. I longed to have a daughter... I prayed she'd be as young as possible (she was a little over 3 weeks old)... And, she was so very beautiful. I could see her spirit, even as a tiny 3 week old.

Three years have gone by in a flash. Since that life-changing day 3 years ago, we have become a family of 4. We've changed in many ways. My daughter has grown from a tiny helpless baby to a strong-willed, funny, and beautiful toddler.

2 More Weeks 'til break and Pictures of the Girls

I have two more weeks of work until break. In truth, I cannot wait for it to get here. The past month or so has been really hard for me work-wise. I'm just not happy where I am or doing what I'm doing. I think I was able to sort of trick myself into thinking all was well during the month of Oct. November started to get bad the closer we got to Thanksgiving... Last week was just awful. I found myself crying at work 2 out of 5 days.

But, two more weeks until break! I am hoping I can through the next couple weeks and then just enjoy being with my family for the holidays.

Below are some pictures of my girls taken right before Thanksgiving! The photo shoot didn't go very well, but we did end up with a couple cute ones. The girls were with my friend H's girls, but I don't want to post pictures of other people's kids online.
Enjoy.

E might love her sister just a little too much in this picture above.

Above, the photographer catches E in the middle of saying "CHEESE!" R's smile is a bit too forces as well.

I think the ones below turned out pretty cute! Once the girls (and the photographer!!) relaxed a little, we did get some good shots of my girls, H's girls, and the 4 of them together.

Court, a Year Later

A year ago tonight (Ethiopia is 8 hours ahead of us) a judge in Ethiopia declared E legally our daughter. Her birthmother, T, appeared in court and relinquished custody of her. In the days and hours leading up to the court hearing, I was a basket case. I understand why at the time of our first adoption, our agency was not telling families when their court dates were. It was agony, pure and simple; I have no other way to describe it. I was so worried we'd not pass court for a million different reasons. And, in the end, what seemed impossible happened: everything went perfectly fine. We passed. On the first try. I was not expecting this.

A year ago tomorrow, I was eating lunch around noon my time when I got a call from my friend S who also had court the same day. They'd passed court! I remember crying tears of joy for S and her family and her precious B, my daughter's ET bff. After waiting probably an hour for my case manager to call, I finally called her and asked if she had news for us. That is when she told us that we'd passed.

The next 3 weeks that followed were a whirlwind. We ended up having an embassy appointment on Dec. 28.

A year after passing court, I cannot imagine life without my E. Tonight, though, my heart is heavy for the woman who bore her and the family who loved and cared for her for the first few months of her life, the people who share DNA with my daughter. The ending of their tragedy is the beginning of my happiness. As I have said before, adoption is an amazing gift, but it is born from the greatest of loss.

So tonight, as I lie in bed with my daughter warm and safe in the room next door, my thoughts and prayers will be with the Ethiopian woman who gave up everything for me to be able to be a mother.

Indeed, I am thankful

Thanksgiving was the last holiday we celebrated before we received R's referral nearly 3 years ago. My heart ached for her, a longing I can't explain. I knew that she was out there, making her way to us. I remember the feeling of hope that I would see my child's face before Christmas that year. And we did. And it was amazing.

And, so, this year, we celebrate Thanksgiving as a family of 4. Although E was alive last year at this time, she was at HH this time last year so this was her first Thanksgiving. It was lovely.


Here are the two biggest blessings of my life:

I am so very thankful.

Best $10 I've Ever Spent

Ok, so hair's a challenge around here. I mean, I have two little beautiful Ethiopian daughters with beautiful Ethiopian baby curls. Recently, I came across an article about something called a Tangle Teezer... Then my friend A posted a rave review about it on her blog, so I asked her what was so wonderful about this weird looking comb-brush thingie.

I used it on R's hair the other day, and it worked ok. I mean, it was nice, but I didn't see much of a difference in it versus the combs we usually use. I had already done E's hair for the day when I purchased it, so I didn't try it on hers until this morning.

OH.

MY.

GOSH.

The thing's amazing. Doing E's hair used to be torture for both her and me (or A when he does it!). Just the sight of the comb would cause her to burst into tears and cry out "Hold you, Momma, hold you, Momma!" which means "give me a hug and don't hurt my head with that mean old comb." Seriously, it was the most awful part of the day, and I dreaded it each morning.

This morning, though, was sooo different. E started crying when A put the detangler on her, but when he started working through her hair with the Tangle Teezer, she actually stopped crying and just sat there!!

It was a miracle!! I mean, really, an honest to God miracle. If you have a child with hair that is similar to E's hair, go buy one tomorrow. You can get them online at the company's website as well as a few other places online. However, I actually found that they are now sold at Sally's Beauty Supply so I was able to purchase mine in the store.

If you want to know more or have questions, please feel free to leave a comment with your email, and I will email you back.

(Just so you know, obviously, I'm writing this review on my own. No one asked me to, and I'm certainly not getting paid to do it. Although, if Tangle Teezer wants to send me a free one, I'd be more than happy to advertise for them more- haha.)

"That tiny baby is Cinderella"

That's what R said the other night when I showed her the picture of herself sleeping (posted below). And Cinderella, my princess-baby certainly is.

I think about what life would have been like for my Cinderella-girl had her birthmom not made an adoption plan for her. My beautiful, happy, smiley, stubborn girl... it kills me to picture her as one of the many children I saw one the streets of Addis during our trips to Ethiopia. I think of my girls and wonder, wonder, wonder...

But, my point is that today, we celebrated life-- the 3rd birthday of my princess R and the new life gained in the baptism of my precious, darling, little love-E-poodle. Today E was baptized, and after the baptism, we had a birthday party/baptism party. Sometime-- soon--- I'll post pictures.

Tonight, though, I think I'll go to bed early!

Like Sisters? No, Really Sisters.

I'm asked sometimes if the girls are like sisters or not. Sisterhood for my girls has been a journey. First, hard and uncertain, with jealousy on R's part and confusion on E's. R didn't like that she wasn't the center of our universe but now had to share it with a tiny stranger. E wasn't quite sure what this big sister thing was all about.

Over the months since E's been home, the girls have become sisters, really and truly. Doesn't matter that they don't share DNA; that's not important. What is important is that they share a family, that they ARE a family.

And tonight, as my girls shared a bag of m&ms (a snack-sized one, don't worry!), rolled around on the floor together, tickled each other, and chased each other back and forth from one end of the house to the other, it struck me that they are really sisters in every sense of the word. And they love each other in a way that no other person on earth can-- as a sister.

I have two brothers, one 14 months younger than me and the other 6 years. My entire life, I wanted a sister. When A and I decided it was time to bring another child home, I knew it had to be R's sister. I have absolutely NOTHING against boys (our next child will most likely be one if things go as planned), but I knew it was important that my girls had each other.

So, please, the question about if they act like sisters... It's irrelevant now. They just... are... sisters.

2 for a Few More Days

It is not long now (Friday) before my 2-year-old becomes my 3-year-old. This tiny, tiny baby is growing up before my eyes.

(In case you were wondering, she still looks like this when she sleeps.)

(This is the first picture I ever saw of my daughter.)

Tonight as we did our nighttime routine, it struck me how big she looks. My baby-girl R is going to soon be a little girl, and I am going to miss that baby. Little girl R is going to be amazing, this I know, but in different way from Baby R was/is. (I don't want to even think about Teenager R. That's terrifying.)


And, tonight, I wonder if Y is thinking of her birthdaughter, the child she gave life to almost 3 years ago. Does her heart ache for her daughter? If I could sit down with Y one more time, I would tell her how much R is loved, cherished, and adored. I do not know if she regrets her decision, but I would tell her that R is one of my two greatest blessings of my life. I would tell her how spirited our daughter is and how full of love of life and passion she is. I would talk about her strong-will and her ability to draw people to her... As I cannot imagine my life without R, I cannot even imagine how hard Y's decision was. There are no words to describe what it is like to be the mother of an adopted child.


My R, as you spend the last few days as a 2-year-old, please know that you amaze me. I love you dearly.

Puzzle Pieces

Have I mentioned before that E's life before she came home is just a puzzle to me? A puzzle with pieces missing, and I don't know if I'll ever find them all. We have our year post-placement visit with our social worker on Thursday, and tonight I was looking through some of E's referral paperwork.

I found two things that frustrate me. First of all, the doctor's examination from Ethiopia clearly states that she has molluscum contagiosum, NOT fungus (ringworm is very common) like it says in the paperwork from our agency and based on what we were told while we were in country. I have taken her to a dermatologist for this three times and actually have an appointment for another one next week. I gotta say, that's frustrating. It would have saved us some hassle because when she came home, neither the regular pediatrician nor the international specialist knew what it was. The dermatologist diagnosed it about 2 months after she came home. In the end, it is not that big of a deal, but it is very frustrating. The other thing is that the ET doctor paperwork says she can sit without assistance, while the referral info says she cannot and that she was just starting to roll over. Her referral pictures clearly show her sitting independently, by the way. This leads me to believe that perhaps the referral information that they thought she was younger than stated might also be inaccurate.

I know that whoever does the reports for my agency in country does some "copy and paste" of information, specifically because the daily schedule for E was exactly the same as the one for R 2 years prior, spelling errors and all. My problem is that I now believe that some of E's referral info is incorrect. I mean, clearly it is. The doctor's info and the referral photographs contradict it. I know that on my part it might have helped for me to look at the records more closely, but to be honest, in the moment of receiving a referral, the stress of waiting to pass court and travel, and the transition of bringing a new child home, it just didn't happen.

So, next steps? I think the next step is contact my case manager (although she's on maternity leave until Jan.) and ask her to contact the transitional home in Ethiopia to ask them to take another look at E's paperwork. I mean, if this is wrong, is it possible that birth family names and information, her birthplace, etc. are also inaccurate?

I feel this is a setback. Maybe it is what I needed to take the plunge and pursue searching for birthfamily and finding out more information about my girl's history. Or maybe it is just one or two simple errors and everything else is fine.

However, my gut, I know that there is more to E's story, to her past, than a few lines on referral paperwork. The missing puzzle pieces keep me up at night. I just want and need answers, for me... and more importantly, for the precious baby girl I am fortunate enough to call my daughter.

A Year

Today marks a year since we received our referral for E! As my friend S put it so well, she was so tiny, scared, and completely gorgeous. She was all that and more. I was at work when I got THE CALL on my cell phone. I'd just changed the ringtone to this completely crazy one the night before because we knew we were "unofficially" number one on the list.

The phone rang and in the same second, I was out the door of my office and running up the steps to my friend H's classroom. My case manager kept trying to tell me the details but I wanted her to wait so I could get some paper.

I burst into the last few minutes of H's 7th period class and could only say her name, unable to really speak with the emotion of the experience. No matter, she understood what was happening, shooed some students out of her workroom, and got the team camera to take some pictures of me while I spoke to J.

I heard the details of my E's story, which I'll leave private for obvious reasons. J said she was going to send an email with pictures. I hung up and called A to tell him he was a daddy times two. We waited for the email with pictures, which seemed to take forever. I text one word to my family and friends-- "REFERRAL!"-- as my hands were shaking so hard.

And, finally, the pictures came. Only 3 of them, but it didn't matter. What did matter was that we had a daughter halfway across the world. I can't describe what it is like to get a referral. I can only say that is the most emotional experience of my life. That night, we went to our favorite local Italian place for a celebration dinner and stared and stared and stared at her pictures.

A year later, she's been home nearly 10 months, and I can't really remember what it was like without her. We celebrated at that same Italian place, this time, a party of four, and my E ate a mountain of pasta and meatballs.

My E, I love you so very much. You are light and joy and goodness all rolled into one, and I am so very thankful that I am your mother. It has been a year since you became a member of our family, and I cannot wait to see what the future brings. Love you forever!

IDK

I've been sort of MIA recently. I feel like I have no time for anything at the moment, including blogging. Despite being rather unhappy work-wise, the weeks do fly by, which is helpful.

The girls are doing pretty well. My E is such a little darling love. She is so affectionate and sweet. My R cracks me up. At nearly 3, I never know what's going to come out of her mouth. Sometimes she drives me crazy, but we are not struggling as much as we were even a couple weeks ago. If you ask her her name, she'll say, "Umm, Cinderella." She's obsessed.

My dear husband has been talking a lot about "our boy" lately. He "jokes" about starting the process again in a couple months. I finally asked him if this is something he really wants to do. As much as I would like to say I am, I'm just not ready. At all. Most days, I feel overwhelmed with the 2 children I have already.

Which leads me to my next point. At my recent doctor visit, I talked to her about some symptoms and long story short, I'm going to have some blood work and x-rays done to see if I have an auto-immune disorder. I really don't think I'm being paranoid in thinking it is possible that I do have one. One of my best friends has one (R.A.) so I have watched how it affects her over the past few years.

Some cute pictures of my girls soon! (Maybe this weekend if I have time...)

Small Gift in my Inbox

Two more pictures of E at age 9 months, which brings the total to 3!

She's saying, "Would you read me this book, please? Look how cute I am with my giant, beautiful brown eyes! How could you resist me?"

W, THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Every Fall

Today, my R said two very precious things:

ONE:
"Mom, I'm soooo proud of you!"
"Aww, that's sweet, baby, why?" I reply.
"Beedu you've been weawy good dis week!"
"Thank you princess!" I say with a smile, and we give each other a big hug.

TWO:
"I weawy lucky beedu I have a mom a dad an' a sister!"

It is in these simple moments I find such joy in being R's mom. And in the back of my mind, I'm always thinking of HER-- R's birthmom, Y-- who misses out on all these moments.

It's fall now, or nearly so.

The past 2 falls, R has been home with us.
The past 2 falls, R has had difficulty. Our social worker told us once that children who have experienced trauma often relive some of that experience around the anniversary of it's happening.

Without going into details of my daughter's private story, my R was born on Nov. 12, 2007. She was referred to us on Dec. 7, 2007. Obviously in those few short weeks of her life, she experienced the loss of her birthmother.

Knowing how attached my child is to me, I can only imagine how scared my tiny baby must have been as this was happening all around her. Honestly, I try not to think about it too much because it is hard. Very hard.

I think often times that people think I'm being silly when I say that I think this is what R is experiencing. They remember that R was just 3 months old when we brought her home, and they think that babies that young can't possibly understand or experience grief/loss/trauma.

BUT. THEY. CAN. and do.

My daughter's attachment to her family is secure; in that I have no doubt. But in the fall, she always regresses a little. This always manifests in sleep issues. Her first fall home, this meant that she would wake at 10 or 10:30pm every night and stay up until 3 or 4 or 5am. Her second fall, she would often need to come to bed with A and me and would wake frequently.

This year, it's happening again. For months and months, she's gone to sleep on her own, no problem at all. About 2 weeks ago, she started having to come downstairs multiple times before finally staying in bed for the night. This week, however, she's added to the mix by waking up many times during the night. Each time, whether before I've gone to bed or waking me from a dead sleep, she says (in a pathetic voice), "I want to be wit you, I weawy want to be wit you."

My poor child. In her own way, she knows that something is missing but is still too little to understand what. I think constantly of our decision to adopt and of Y's decision to make an adoption plan for her. I love her so, so much, my R, and I can't imagine life without her now. But I think, too, about Y. How does she cope with this loss?

Undoubtedly, R's quality of life is better here in the US with her momma and daddy. There is no question that we can provide far more for her than Y could.

But in these months, when my child tries to work through her grief and loss in a way only a small child can, I start to have doubts, too.

I want so very much to be the RIGHT choice for my child. But with all my child will face because she was adopted and seeing her go through this mourning period...

And, so, my child's insecurities become mine, and we will get through this difficult part of the year. Together.

My dear sweet precious R, I love more than you could ever know or possibly understand.