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.