To Addis and Back (Part 7) Final Evening

The last night the entire group of traveling families (minus a few exhausted parties) went for a dinner and dancing show, including a coffee ceremony and traditional injera basket tables and Ethiopian fare.

It was fun, with the added challenge of eating a meal on 1 foot stools with a band of merry infants along!

The kiddos loved the music, and Charlie danced her first dance.

As soon as Charlie saw injera (the Ethiopian spongy and sour bread made out of the teff grain, one of the few local grains that grow here) she grabbed a roll and tried to shove it in her mouth. Therefore I thought perhaps the nannies had already started the kids on injera at a very early age, or it's a genetic taste (because most babies I don't think would like how sour it is) passed down through hundreds of generations of Ethiopians.. I allowed her to eat small pieces of it as it tuns to mush in the mouth. Don't worry, it looks like she is stuffing great gobs of it in her mouth, but I was watching carefully and broke up the pieces so she wouldn't choke.

When we got back to the Guest House, all the staff asked how we enjoyed the show and seemed very invested in our enthusiasm, so we were enthusiastic. In reality, most of us left before the coffee ceremony, as it was going on 3 hours by then and the infants (and kids by then) were wilting fast. In all, it was a lovely goodbye to Ethiopia. Most of us were ready to leave, to start our new family life back home, but there was definitely a sadness at taking Charlie away from her birth home and her culture and everything she had known for her entire life.

Tomorrow I will write about the plane ride home, 28 hours non-stop, door-to-door traveling, along with some tips for those of you who are about to make the trip.

To Addis and Back (Part 4) Shopping and the city.

Nom, nom, nom ....... everything in the mouth......




Today was the day we went shopping.

Initially, I was told nannies were coming from the care center to watch over our children and free us up to go shopping, have lunch at a nice restaurant, go to the museum (and see Lucy!), then do more shopping and finally have dinner at the highest restaurant in Addis with a great view.

Well.

I was not sure how I felt about that. On the one hand, I was tired and aching from carrying Charlie and needed a physical break. On the other hand, I was concerned at the confusion she might experience from seeing her nanny again and whether that would set back the positive strides in attachment we had made in the past 2 days.

I was then told, a few hours later, that nannies were NOT coming and we were to take our children with us for this extremely long day.

I almost fainted at hearing that news.

Who on earth plans a schedule like that for a group of new parents with infants??? And one couple had twins 8 months old! Another couple had a boy, 4 years old, with an amputated leg and a club foot who weighed 50 pounds and needed to be carried everywhere. I mean, really!

I almost didn't go.

But I went.

As I thought, it was hot, hot, hot. Not weather-wise (it was actually a cool 70 degrees and beautiful), but in between my body and Charlie's body. We both started sweating almost immediately and were soaked by the time we reached the shopping area.

The shops were a row of stalls along one side of a busy street. The van drivers followed us around to ensure our safety (pickpockets). The wares included typical Ethiopian dresses, *silver* crosses, drums and statues, basic touristy stuff. I got a few outfits for Charlie in various sizes so she will have them as she grows up. At one point a kid came up to me begging and I handed him some Lance crackers. Before I knew it, a woman with a stick came and chased him away. I think he ran fast enough to get away, but this was not a good area to give to beggars. I had been warned there was a "bad" area to give, but hadn't realized this was the spot until I saw the woman with the stick. Yikes!

Shopping went on for an hour and Charlie got too hot. She started whining and writhing and I finally had to take her out of the Ergo and feed her a bottle in the van.

We then went to lunch at Blue Tops, an Italian restaurant. Charlie helped me pick out lasagna.
She was patient for about 30 minutes, although trying to get her hands on everything (like the spoons, glasses, menus, place mats, etc). After about 45 minutes all the members of our party received their food but me. I took Charlie outside for awhile to distract her. My food finally arrived after an hour waiting. A long day was getting longer....

After lunch, some brave souls decided to go to the museum. My mother was among them. But I don't think anyone with infants went. we had all had it by then and were ready to return to the hotel for naps. Charlie took her typical 15 minute nap, so that by the time I finally got to lie down, she was ready to rock and roll!

We played in the guest house for a few hours and then went to a restaurant on top of a mountain where we were treated to a view of all of Addis. Unfortunately, Addis is so polluted now there is a haze hanging heavily above the whole city, blue and gray, and looks so thick I wasn't sure if it was fog or pollution. It was pollution.

The meal was good though. We had filet mignon, and one portion included THREE filets (!!!) all for a whopping price of $6.00. So that couldn't be beat. Charlie was very good at dinner. She let my mother hold her and feed her. We had a picture taken of my mother feeding Charlie, while I was feeding my mother a bite... three generations being fed by one another!

I also managed to do a one-kneed diaper change as I'd forgotten her changing pad and the bathroom floor looked a bit... not pristine. So I thought that was a real "mom" moment and was proud of my balancing skills. Charlie looked a little uncertain, and precariously balanced at times, but made it through with a fresh nappy and a smile.

On the ride back to the hotel, in the dark, through Addis, I noticed many of the same people who had been squatted on the sidewalks earlier, only now they were lit up by the faint glow of embers under their teapots. I realized they probably spend all night out there, on the sidewalks. As we were climbing into soft beds that night, and every night, thousands of Ethiopians are trying to stay warm on the sidewalks of Addis with their tea kettles. It really puts things in perspective.

Charlie fell asleep on the ride home and missed the kettles and embers.

To Addis and Back (Part 2), Charlie arrives at the Guest House.

The first morning while waiting for Charlie's arrival, I stepped outside the Guest House gates and saw these girls walking to church. They were so excited to have their picture taken and giggled a lot when I showed it to them.









Two nannies from the care center arrived around 11AM. We were waiting downstairs of course, eagerly anticipating Charlie's arrival. Her nanny was holding her and she started crying upon arrival. I don't think it was my face in particular that set her off (though it could have been) but rather the newness of the whole situation. It probably would have been better for the adoptive parents to go to the care center over the course of a few days and meet our children there, rather than do it this way. It seemed really traumatic. The other child, Bereket, who was brought at the same time was also crying off and on quite a bit (but not as much as Charlie).


The nannies stayed for a few hours and Charlie cried throughout. Considering she had probably never been outside of one room at the care center, I believe riding in a van and then seeing a crowd of new faces, as well as a new building and all the attention focused on her... it was just too much. I kept wanting to take her upstairs to the quiet of our room, but various people wanted to try their hand at consoling her, rocking her, etc, to no success. I thought all the attention was making matters worse, frankly, but also didn't want to be pushy or take her when she wasn't ready for me yet.

Luckily, I had not had any pre-pickup fantasies of what it would be like, so I was not disappointed or hurt. I was concerned about the experience for Charlie, and wanting her fear to end.

Eventually, I did take her upstairs and asked everyone to leave (my mom and her friend had a lunch date anyway) and rocked her in my arms until she fell asleep. She slept for hours, having exhausted herself with the trauma of the day.





When she awoke, I bundled her in a soft pink blanket and gave her a bottle. She looked up in my eyes, wonderingly, while sucking on the bottle. She reached for me, waved at me, gurgled, and that was it, I was mom.




From that moment on, I could not put her down for a second without her started to whimper and then full on cry. Even putting her down for a nappy change resulted in tears until I picked her up again. This was a positive sign for attachment (although I wondered how she could attach in minutes, really) but not so positive for me as I had a hundred things to do, baby related, and couldn't do them while carrying her. My mother would try and hold her and she refused. She showed her discontent with that arrangement by shrieking, tossing her head, arching her back, etc. Thankfully, mom did not allow her feelings to be hurt and was happy she was attaching so well to me.

I started wondering how I would do at home... how was I going to shower? Feed the dogs? Make breakfast, etc? There are a hundred things to do each day, from picking up a toy to preparing to work and carrying a 20 pound baby while doing it seems like a very difficult proposition. As I watched the other adoptive parents at the Guest House, they all had a co-parent to take over, even for a minute, to make live more manageable. Not one of them was unable to put down their child for a second. All of them were able to put on makeup, dress in clean clothes, eat. Here I was, dirty with formula spilled on me, old crusty makeup on, teefs unbrushed, hungry, with a baby on my hip. Pretty soon my shoulders started hurting from carrying her around. Then my back. Then my arms. Then my neck. Rising from bed after a few hours of sleep to get her bottle became an exercise in excruciating stiffness.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This was Day One with Charlie and it was traumatic for her. I wished I could make it better and less scary and by the end of the day, I had succeeded it seemed. She was just as beautiful as her pictures, even more so because she was live in 3-D. Certain looks and actions make your heart melt. I'm forever grateful to Ethiopia and her birth mother for producing this little being.


(Part 3 coming up)


Bye for now!

To Addis and Back (Part 1)

I'm writing a captain's log so I have a record of the trip and store memories safely.

We (my mother and I) flew KLM from Washington, D.C to Amsterdam, then Amsterdam to Khartoum, and finally Khartoum to Addis. I had worries about the plane being stormed in Khartoum by a band of terrorists, as we had to sit on the tarmac for 90 minutes for refueling. It brought visions of other tarmac stand-offs, but against all odds, nothing happened!

Two new warnings the flight attendents give these days: 1) "As the plane is refueling, please keep your seat belts UN-FASTENED for safety reasons." Ok. Now what's THAT about?? "In case the plane explodes in a fire ball not unlike a nuclear mushroom head, we want you to be able to exit safely???" 2) "Due to flying over U.S. airspace, Homeland Security requires passengers do not congregate in the galley area or near the restrooms". Hmmm..... makes one feel cozy and safe, eh?

Anyway, we made it after 28 hours door to door traveling without crashing, exploding mid-air, being taken by terrorists, or having lightening strike us down (a new one for me, I thought planes were safe from lightening until the recent Air France disaster.) I slept through most of the trip thanks to my anti-anxiety agent, and enjoyed that much of it, knowing the way back might be much more difficult with an infant on my lap.

We were supposed to be met at the airport by an agency rep, but he was nowhere to be seen so we caught a taxi (the driver had no headlights and strapped our luggage into a pyramid on his roof. It was too dark to notice much of the city as more than half the lights were out.

The guest house was simple but adequate and we slept for hours, only intermittantly noticing the neighborhood dog who barked from 11PM to 4 AM every. single. night. I would notice him much more the following nights.

In the morning, we feasted upon scrambled eggs and dry french toast (syrup was not a known topping at our guest house, but that's ok). I had been told the night before that I could see Charlie today instead of having to wait an extra day and she was to be arriving at around 10 AM so I was very excited.

(To be continued.... here is a teaser pic)

Why Ethiopia (part 2)

Ethiopia's orphans face life of hardship

by Jonathan Clayton

The Ethiopian peasant farmer and his wife shuffled painfully into the orphanage. They were in the last stages of Aids and had only weeks to live. However, they were happy. They had heard the Franciscan nuns had found a home for their three children and had come to say farewell.

“I am so happy, they are going to stay together,” the father, Solomon, whispered as he embraced a middle-aged Mormon couple from Salt Lake City, Utah. “Now, I can die peacefully. They will go to school in America and have a future. It is good they leave here.” As they embraced their two daughters, aged 8 and 6, for the last time the tears ran freely. Their four-year-old son did not appreciate the significance of the moment and ran off to play with friends.

Sister Luthgarder, a seasoned veteran of such heart-rending adoptions, explained: “It is sad, but it is so rare they are kept together and so I am happy.” Only a week previously a brother and sister were separated: one going to Norway, the other to Canada. “The new parents said they would take them to see each other every year, but inevitably they will grow apart,” she said.
Only a fraction of Ethiopia’s burgeoning population of orphaned children, now put at five million, find their way to Kidane Meheret Children’s Home. Even fewer leave and they are certainly the lucky ones.

A few miles away, dozens of children sleep in drains at night and beg by day at the sprawling central bus station. They face constant dangers.

“Some are forced into prostitution, some are sold by relatives after their parents die, they are kept as maids and often abused,” said Dagmawi Alemayeau who runs an organisation, Forum on Street Children, which tries to fight trafficking. Most of an estimated 50,000 children on the streets of the capital, Addis Ababa, at some stage pass through the bus station where he has his office.

“Traffickers go to the rural areas ... there are places where you can even buy a baby for as little as $1,” he told The Times. He always keeps an eye open at the international airport where so-called “uncles” can often be spotted boarded planes to Gulf states with teenage girls.
Across the rest of Africa, a combination of soaring populations, growing poverty and the HIV-Aids epidemic has led to a huge increase in orphans.

A UNICEF report estimates that in sub-Saharan Africa alone there will be more than 20 million by 2010.

Cash-strapped governments on the world’s poorest continent are overwhelmed. They can afford only a handful of government run agencies. Despite an increase in foreign adoptions, some well-publicised like those of Madonna and Angelina Jolie, who has adopted from Ethiopia and Cambodia, only a tiny fraction of these children find new homes overseas.

Organisations like UNICEF and the UK’s Save the Children Fund are opposed to foreign adoptions, advocating instead that the children be placed in extended families or locally adopted so they grow up within his or her own cultural identity. They encourage would be parents to send money instead to help look after the children in the country of origin. But they are often accused of a head in the sand approach to the abuse the child may face and ignore the fact that by so doing they often condemn the child to a life of grinding poverty and no education.

“Adoption is sad, very sad but the whole issue is sad, a life of neglect, and abandonment, grinding poverty and abuse is sad, adoption is often the lesser evil especially as the people who come here are good and very carefully checked,” added Sister Luthgarder who finds at least one new born baby a week on her doorstep.

This point was made by Malawi’s president Bingu wa Mutharika with disarming frankness earlier this week. “I wish someone had come and taken 10,000 Malawian children because then I would know that 10,000 Malawians would have better education and opportunities,” he told The Times.

(picture from "There Is No Me Without You" of Mekdes the orphan girl)

Rut-roh.... spaghetti-o's!

In Ethiopia, being overweight is a sign of wealth. For who else but a rich person can afford to eat enough calories each day in excess to actually put on weight? So calling someone "fat" is not neccesarily an insult, like it is here in the USA. I imagine this is but one of the many cultural differences I will experience traveling there.



I did not write this... but I imagine my trip will be embarrassingly similar....





(This is reprinted from Bootsnall.com)
By Hannah Vick



"Three Weeks in Addis"

Shyness is overcome quickly at the orphanage. In less than an hour of my arrival, I am surrounded by half a dozen giggling girls stroking my hair and my cheeks. "You!" they say, mouths open in smiles, "You are so fat - so fat and white!"

Peter leads me up the stairs, through the kitchen and into the courtyard of Layla House, a center for orphaned children in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, run by an American adoption agency. He points at things and children, nonchalantly throwing out useful tidbits, like "Don't eat the pasta", and "That's Meron, she's going to Denver", and "Use the staff bathroom, the kid's are still figuring out toilet paper".

He does not mention my plus-size figure would be the source of constant delight and amazement for Ethiopians.

The children, of course, are wonderful in their optimism and courage, jumping over cracks in the cement, arguing over who will brush my hair. They babble in Amharic and look at me nose to nose. One girl concentrates, with her tongue out, as she combs my eyebrows. They hold my hand, wrap around my neck, sit on my lap and pinch my upper arms. More giggling and they say I'm beautiful. "Very beautiful," Marta says, concentrating now on my braids that have unwoven, "And very, very fat."

The Crown Hotel is the first of our obligatory touristy destination stops. It features traditional Ethiopian dancing and music. We arrive early for good seats, stools crafted from one tree trunk. The stools surround a mesob, a round table that holds a plate of injera — the staple of any Ethiopian diet.

The other volunteers are chatty and adventurous. Aaron is taking a hiatus in Addis after getting shot at in the Congo while teaching HIV awareness classes. He's young and bright-eyed, a recent graduate from a Canadian college, eager to change the world. Brett and Kara are the honeymooning vegetarian couple. Kara is a size two and directs a homeless shelter back home; Brett was accepted to medical school and runs five miles a day. They are, unequivocally, the nicest people I have ever met.

And then there's me. I'm from Wisconsin, where we all carry an extra 30 pounds to keep us warm in the winter.

Our guide waves to get my attention. "Look!" he says, holding up a stool from the other side of the room, "I got you a big stool. Big stool just for you!" He laughs and gestures for me to take it. My cohorts stay diplomatically quiet, but Brett reaches over and pats me on the shoulder.

Riding in a mini-bus in Addis is a terrifying, deeply religious experience. There are no discernable traffic laws and a distinct fondness for roundabouts. On the dashboard of this particular mini-bus is an icon of Mary, a picture of Bob Marley and a sticker of the rapper, 50 Cent. I consider praying to all three, to be on the safe side. The interior of the bus rattles, everyone bumps along in tandem.

Brett is chatting with his seat partner, Kara is smiling dreamily as we rumble past our destination.

"Waddatch!" I say, which I believe means stop, although I'm not entirely certain. I'm hot and uncomfortable. I feel overwhelmed by the city and its poverty. I have pangs of guilt constantly, the emotion is sharpened by the humbling contentment of everyone I meet. The people of Addis seem delighted, genuinely so, that I've gorged myself on American consumerism, obviously, food. The effect is stifling.

"Waddatch! Waddatch! Waddatch! WADDATCH!" I yell, raising eyebrows and turning heads. Kara asks what's wrong and I tell her I don't want to walk a half mile back to the volunteer house. The man sitting in front of us turns around and says, "You could use walking," he smiles and shakes his head gleefully, "You are so fat."

The boys at Layla House crowd around me almost as much as the girls, although with hesitancy. They're eager to show me their Kung-Fu moves, they jostle each other to clear a space, raising their voices and then smiling sweetly at me.

A ten-year-old dramatically assumes the classic Karate Kid pose, I bark out a surprised laugh.

"What did you learn in America class today?" I ask. The children take turns telling me — and pantomiming — the details of a typical American house. The class is designed to prepare the children for their new post-adoption lives in the U.S.

"Big, big houses!" a young boy says, straining on his toes to show me how high. "With a kitchen!"

"And what kind of things are in the kitchen?" I ask. "Is there an oven in the kitchen?" Yes, everyone nods that there is - and a refrigerator.

"No, no," one boy says, his forehead creased in seriousness, "In America, every room has refrigerator, not just kitchen. And one is full of meat!"

I try to dissuade him of this notion, I fail, spectacularly. I can only think of his adoptive mother's confusion at this undoubtedly un-met expectation.

I change the subject to something I think is very important.

"Listen to me!" I raise my voice over the ongoing refrigerator debate. "Listen! When you get to America, you must not tell anyone they are fat. Do you understand?"

No one understands. The boys are confused and they ask each other questions; some in Amharic, others in broken English.

The boy holding my hand says with an appropriate gravity, "You are very fat."

"Yes, I know," I say. "But you can't say that when you get to America." I forge on with resolution. "If you say 'you are fat' to someone in America, they might get angry." I show them my angry face. "Or sad."

Ah. The boys nod. They look at me with wide eyes and murmur agreement. I nod, too, smug and impressed with myself for saving them from overweight school-yard bullies.

A tall boy in the back raises his hand, "How much do you weigh?"

We take a Saturday to do some shopping in the textile district, or rather, the place where all the dresses are made. Arriving by mini-bus, we start peeking inside row after row of tiny shops, filled to the ceiling with clothes and scarves. Each shop is bursting with all sorts of colorful things, the dresses hanging in doorways look to be making a form of escape.

We stay at one shop, watching Kara try dresses, chatting with the two saleswomen. They're like most Ethiopians, gracious and eager to please, constantly smiling and ready to forgive our botched attempts at communication. They send out for coffee, which arrives in a steel warming bucket. They smile shyly when we thank them a disproportionate number of times.

The traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony is beautiful. I thumb through the ceremony dresses for one I like. "Do you have my size?" I ask.

"Oh yes," she says, rummaging around in the back. She nods to her associate, together they unravel the largest dress I've ever seen. It almost reaches from one side of the store to the other. "Just your size! It fit perfectly!" Smiles all around.

I shell out 65 Birr and am now the owner of a tent in the shape of a traditional Ethiopian coffee dress.

When I returned home and began digesting my three weeks in Addis, the adoption agency forwarded a letter written by one of the little girls at Layla House. It was seven pages of drawings, in neatly written sentences that repeatedly exclaimed my name, her name, Wisconsin and "I love you".

On the third page, near the bottom, she wrote in loopy ten-year old letters - You are so fat.

The Sin of Our Generation

"I believe that this could very well be looked back on as the sin of our generation. I look at my parents and ask, where were they during the civil rights movement? I look at my grandparents and ask, what were they doing when the holocaust in Europe was occurring with regard to the Jews, and why didn't they speak up? And when we think of our great, great, great-grandparents, we think how could they have sat by and allowed slavery to exist? And I believe that our children and their children, 40 or 50 years from now, are going to ask me, what did you do while 40 million children became orphans in Africa?"--Rich Stearns, President of World Vision

10 More Days Until Court & Waiting Contest

There are 10 more days until my court date!

Therefore, I really need to step up the trivia waiting contest in an attempt to get some lucky reader up to 100 points.

So each day from now until court I will offer a trivia question of 10 or more points. That means some of you in the bottom quarter still have a chance to win :-)

I have one prize in mind for expectant moms and new moms. I have another prize in mind for a winner who has already been a mom for awhile or isn't a mother. So there is a cool prize for whoever wins.

Ready?

Set?

Go!

This is for 10 points to the first person to answer accurately:

How long ago is Lucy estimated to have lived in Ethiopia?

And for 5 points (to a different reader than the first question):
Who was Ethiopia's first emperor?



Good luck!

Is that a plate in your lip, or are you just happy to see me?

I'm doing a little research into the different cultures and tribes of Ethiopia, trying to decide whether a side trip is in order when I go to pick up Charlie. The side trip could not be too long, because I don't want to use up my maternity leave (which is unpaid) nor do I want to be in country, THAT CLOSE, and start heading in the opposite direction from Charlie. The most interesting tribes seem to be way down south, and due to bad roads, medication-resistant malaria mosquitoes, and an earlier rainy season than in Addis, I probably won't be heading south to see these tribes. But thanks to YouTube, I can sort of see them anyway.

The origin of the lip plate, according to one source, is that a neighboring tribe was stealing their women, so they tried to make their women unattractive Over time, it became a symbol of beauty to their own tribe.

Funny how that happened!

The lip is minimally cut when the female reaches adolescence, and then slowly expanded over time to accomodate a larger plate. Apparently it doesn't hurt. The plate is only removed to eat and sleep. I wonder how they talk?

Interesting!

Oh no...Mrs. Haregewoin Teferra has died.

My mom is in the middle of reading "There is No Me Without You" the book written by Melissa Fay Greene about this amazing woman, Mrs. Haregewoin Teferra. She's reading it because I'm "making" her. Because it's such an amazing book, an eye-opening, life-changing book. About this woman, Mrs. Haregewoin Teferra.

Mrs. Teferra lost her own daughter to illness, and in her time of grieving started taking in Ethiopia's orphans. Soon her small one room tin metal house was overwhelmed by dozens of children, all needing her love and attention. Then there were 40 orphans. Then 50! The book is about Mrs. Teferra, the orphans, HIV/AIDS and Ethiopia. It was a splendid book which gave me goose bumps (especially it's last chapter).

I also admired how Ms. Greene did not sugar coat the situation and there were times in the book when Mr. Teferra came off as more human than saint.

The world has lost a very special person today.

She inspired in me day dreams of opening my own care center in Ethiopia. I had day dreams of meeting her during my trip there this summer. Perhaps one day, my dreams will come true... but sadly, not of meeting her in person.

You can click on the link to be taken to Melissa Fay Greene's website and announcement.

Chickens on dusty roads and Fanta in glass bottles.

A few of my agency's families returned home from Ethiopia yesterday with their children and have posted pictures and slide shows. I wish I could have gone with them! I love the pictures, they remind me so much of "home". I know that must sound strange, but I grew up in "developing" countries and so I don't really have a "hometown". But anyplace that has chickens scattering across dusty pot-holed roads and Fanta soda in glass bottles being sold out of tin huts, and rickshaws feels like "home" to me! And so watching these slide shows gave me a good sense that most likely I will feel pretty comfortable in Ethiopia (as long as I don't catch a stomach bug). Here are the links, you can see their beautiful new families and also what I mean about tin huts and chickens.

http://www.thewardrobeandthewhitetree.com/

http://familyrootedinlove.blogspot.com/

Also, there might be some new pictures of my soon to be daughter to see!

Another cool book!

1-20-2009


Ethiopian Adoption Book

This 20 page book with full color professional photographs was written and photographed by adoptive mother Heidi Mehltretter. It walks a child through important and beautiful cultural settings in Ethiopia, giving them a sense of pride in the country of their birth. The book shows how Teff is grown and made into Injera, it talks about the rich religious history and ultimately describes how a child might become orphaned leading to their adoption. Ms. Mehltretter leaves the end of the book open so a family can insert a photo of their own child which allows for personalization. There are a handful of children's books about international adoption, but there are no books which highlight the unique adoption and cultural History of Ethiopia the way this one does. 100% of the profits from the sale of this book will go to support Hanna Fanta, the founder of Children's Heaven, a sponsorship program to help teenaged girls affected and orphaned by HIV and AIDS. Click the title to be taken to the ordering website.

"Kids in the U.S. need help too..."

1-18-2009

Ok, I'm broaching a tricky topic....

I've been asked, and told "Why go overseas? Kids in the States need help too."

Yes, that is true, all kids deserve families.

But if you have never been to a "third world" country I don't think you can begin to imagine the difference in being poor in the U.S.A and being poor in Africa.

In the U.S., there are homeless shelters and food pantries. Do people go to bed hungry, yes sometimes. Do they starve to DEATH? Not often. (Unless they are anorexic, a disease that is only seen in countries of excess.)

In the U.S. if you show up to a hospital with a gun shot wound to the head, they will treat you at least on an emergency basis before kicking you out for lack of insurance.

In the U.S., if you are thirsty, you can find a tap and drink water that will not kill you.

In the U.S., school is not only free, it's the law. Pencils are readily available. A school bus will pick you up and drive you in relative comfort miles away to your school.

In the U.S., if you are a child with HIV you can receive free medication through the Ryan White Foundation.

In many developing nations, none of the above is true. There is famine, a lack of safe drinking water or sometimes any water at all, no medical care, no medication even for simple problems, shelter can be iffy, and school is a luxury many cannot afford or travel the distance to attend. In America, mothers are not giving up their babies for adoption because they are starving and don't have breast milk to feed them. In America we have programs. WIC. Food stamps. Etc. We have over the counter medicine for diarrhea. But please don't compare the two situations, they un-comparable.

So, just to explain, I have nothing against American babies, I really don't...I wish them all to be in loving homes with everything they need to grow up happy and strong. There's much less of a chance of that happening in Ethiopia. 4.5 million orphans in a country twice the size of Texas. I wonder how many orphans there would be if formula could be provided to those mothers?

This video is extremely difficult to watch, but boy does it prove my point. I debated posting it, because it is so disturbing... But I can't stand heads in the sand AKA denial. If it hurts to watch, imagine what it feels like to live through. This video makes me feel like quitting my lucrative US social work job and becoming an international social worker, like I wanted to when I was a teenager. The video does have a "happy" ending, although you will still need a box of Kleenex because it brings on the "ugly cry". Just be warned.

CHILDREN'S STATUS

Newborns dying before age 1 - 1 in 10
Children dying before age 5, often from preventable diseases -1 in 6
Main causes of early childhood deaths -Diarrhea and pneumonia
Orphans, 2003 estimate -4 million
Children under age 5 stunted from lack of nutrition - Over 50%

High school attendance, females - 8.5%

Population with use of adequate sanitation facilities - 15%
Rural population with use of adequate sanitation facilities - 4%
Population with use of improved drinking water sources - 24%
Population with access to public health facilities - 61.3%
Population more than 10 km (6 miles) from nearest health facility - Over 50%
Physicians per 100,000 people - 3
Population moderately to severely underweight - 38%
Population stunted due to lack of nutrition - 47%

HIV/AIDS
Adults infected weekly - 5,000
Age group with highest rate of infection
15-24 years; female prevalence 3 times greater than among males
Women living with HIV, 15-49 -770,000
Mother-to-child HIV transmission - 2nd highest number of new infections per year
Children dying from AIDS - 1 in 16
Children orphaned by AIDS from 2003 to 2007 - 720,000

Female Genital Mutilation

Women aged 15-49 with FGM - 80%
Girls undergoing FGM - Up to 90%

Women experiencing rape, in total population (2004)
25%

Source http://www.ethiopia.ppgg.org/site/c.krKPIYPDImE/b.2192351/k.90C2/Facts_and_Figures.htm

Who has travelled to ET during rainy season?

1-15-2009

Have any of my readers actually been there during the rainy season?

Do the roads actually wash away?

Do you need to wear boots up to your knees or higher?

I ask because that is what I was told by someone who has been there several times, yet the average rainfall for those months are the same or less than Indonesia where I lived and flooding was rare. Of course, it could be the earth is a different consistency and pouring a bucket of water on hard baked soil has very different results than pouring it on soil which has been semi-moist all year.

I'm still trying to decide on my travel plans. If it's not that bad in rainy season, I may just do the exploring then... especially since now I may not have a referral to go visit in March.

Great referral news! Maybe. Choices

OR.....







1-14-2009

Yesterday I met with my agency's social worker. She said that my mom could visit the orphanage and take videos, pictures, and bring gifts if she wanted when she travels to ET in March on a trip she had already planned before this whole adoption process started.

She also said that I was welcome to go in March as well, if I could afford two trips. I would be able to learn the culture a bit and explore the country, so that I could teach my child about it. I could visit the orphange. If I had a referral by then, I could meet her!

The original thought, was that I would be traveling later in the year just due to the length of time things usually take. During the rainy season traveling is not good. You have to wear knee high boots as the roads are flooded with rain and SEWAGE. I can't see wanting to go to the market/coffee ceremony/museum in sewage.


Also, I was planning a trip to Mexico in March, and while tickets are not yet bought, I was looking forward to it as my "last" hurrah before becoming a tired parent. I cannot afford a Mexico trip, plus an ET trip, plus an ET "pick up" trip (either financially or in annual leave from work.) One airfare to ET is equal to a week's stay in Mexico, all inclusive.

Major decisions....


What would you do if it was your choice?


Mexico in March and ET in rainy season?


Travel to ET in March to explore? Then go back a couple months later to adopt?

"Why Ethiopia?"

1-1-2009

As I continue to tell people around my about my adoption plans, I am hearing, frequently, "Why Ethiopia?"

Hmm...

Why indeed?

I try to explain that there is a pull there, inside me, for Africa. Maybe because I spent some time there during developmental years. Maybe because if you see starving babies when you are young that image never leaves you.

I spent my growing up years years in the Ivory Coast, as well as Brazil, Indoneisia, Egypt, Bolivia. I also recently went to Thailand and LOVED it and loved the gentleness of the people.

All were looked in to as possible adoption countries.

Many of these countries had issues adopting to singles, or issues adopting at all to foreigners. Many African countries the State Department warns not to get involved with as their infrastructure is not stable enough to promise a succesful adoption (not that there are any guarantees ever with adoption) so I choose ET. Even if there had been more choices, I still think I would have chose ET. I like the country, the people are GORGEOUS, the culture and food is delicious, the music is fun, the countryside is beautiful, it's a place I would want to return to with my child when she is older, etc.

I just felt a pull there. It's a bit hard to explain.

Actually, seeing those kids is what made me become a social worker, to "save the starving kids in ET". Somehow I ended up not working in international social work (although, who knows what the future might bring...) but that pull is still there. And it's NOT to "save a child"... in fact, I think I would be the luckiest person EVER to be handed a baby and told "she's your daughter". How freaking amazing is THAT???!!! It's totally selfish on my part, nothing altruistic about it. If I happen to be able to feed a person, and provide a loving warm home, and a good education, good healthcare, that's wonderful too.

TOO.

Here is a video I found that makes me cry (in a good way).

My favorite part

12-29-2008

This is just a light post today because I have nothing much to add.

My favorite part of all the blogs I'm reading is the part where the family FINALLY gets to travel to ET and see their child!

Every blog I read, I try to figure out their travel dates through the timeline and narrow it down from there. Some of these blogs I have to go back a few years in time to get the "pick up" story.

I love the stories about Ethiopian Air, arrival in Addis, the people, the culture, the taxi drivers and the ride to the hotel, and best of all, the trip to meet their child. And then, there's always the part where the other kids in the family get to wear the traditional ET dress. Oh yea, and doing a project at the orphanage, or dancing with the kids in a ring at the orphanage. I hope I get to do that stuff too :-)

I find it hard to believe almost everyone has to spend the first day and night without seeing their child. I guess you are so jet lagged it's smart... but I don't think, if I was in the same city as my daughter, that I could rest until I was with her.

My social worker invited me to lunch on the day I get my fingerprints, which is nice, since we will be in the same city.

My cousin emailed me and suggested I start a baby registry and listed about 50 things I need to get! I called her and explained I should have plenty of time after getting the referral, and then the court date, and then passing court.... It's not like I will not have advanced warning. Plus, with the co-sleeping part of attachment parenting, who knows if I'll even need a crib? And with the long wait post referral, who knows what size she will be for a car seat, or clothes? So much to think about and figure out! It's nice my cousin is so excited though :-) I was very excited for her first child too. I even drew a comic book for her of her pregnancy that I thought (modesty here) was hysterically funny. It's nice we can share this excitement.

I know there are similarities and differences to a biological pregnancy, but I think adoption must be harder in some ways.... Like the not knowing WHEN. With a bio pregnancy, you know WHEN to a large degree, and you know what size your child will be to a large degree. You know you will need a crib and car seat, and which size car seat. If you are past a certain point, in biological pregnancy you also know that eventually that baby is coming. Period. With adoption, even that is not certain.

Well, I don't want to start a debate on which is harder to go through, so I'll end by saying I'm sure they are both difficult, and both with great rewards.

Must read book

12-27-2008

My agency is awesome! They sent me a book today, which I had been reading about on various forums, with everyone saying it is a must read book about Ethiopia and AIDS orphans. It is called: "There Is No Me Without You: One Woman's Odyssey to Rescue Her Country's Children" by Melissa Fay Greene. I had then put it on all my various book wish lists, and now I can take it right back off my wish lists because here it is!

From Amazon reviews:
"From Booklist: The horrific numbers behind the AIDS pandemic in Africa, "the most terrible epidemic in human history," have little resonance for most people in the West: "the ridiculous numbers wash over most of us." But this searing account humanizes the statistics through heartbreaking, intimate stories of what it is like for young orphans left alone in Ethiopia. Greene's story focuses on one rescuer, Haregewoin Teferra, who has opened her home and compound in a rickety hillside neighborhood of Addis Ababa and taken in hundreds of the untouchables thrown in the streets and left at her door. She cannot turn them away. Yes, the comparisons with Mother Teresa are there, but this is no hagiography; the middle-aged Teferra is "just an average person with a little more heart." Greene tells the stories in unforgettable vignettes of loss, secrecy, panic, stigma, and, sometimes, hope, even as she documents the big picture of "the human landslide," the history and science of epidemiology and transmission, and expresses her fury at the "crimes against humanity" of the multinational drug companies whose expensive patents have denied millions access to the life-saving medicines. Just as moving are the personal stories of international adoptions in the U. S., including two Ethiopian children taken into Greene's own Atlanta family. The detail of one lost child at a time, who finds love, laughter, comfort, and connection, opens up the universal meaning of family. Hazel RochmanCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved "
Here is the link if you would like to buy if for yourself or someone you know:
http://www.amazon.com/There-No-Me-Without-You/dp/1596912936/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1230415417&sr=8-1

If has 40 reviews, all 5 out of 5 stars.

The moment of "conception"??

12-8-08
Today I dropped a contract in the mail to my chosen adoption agency for my Ethiopian adoption! It was probably THE MOST important piece of paper I've ever mailed! If this was a biological pregnancy, this would be the moment of conception. I looked at the other people in the post office line, at their faces, and imagined how they would look if they knew I had just conceived in front of them! I'm becoming a mother!

Welcome!

Hello and welcome to my blog. The plan is to keep family, friends, and voyeurs up to date on my adoption progress. I started this journey on December 8th, 2008, when I sent off my agency fee (!!!!$$$$!!!!) and contract. I had been told that it was imperative I get all my paperwork in as soon as possible to due the imminent change in laws that might prohibit singles from adopting in Ethiopia come the new year. So I got all my paperwork in by December 14th, a new record my social worker said! I had my home visit on the 11th. The only two pieces of paper not yet submitted are out of my control: my State Department Birth Certificate (4 to 6 weeks!) and my SBI fingerprint analyses (4 weeks). So I wait..... and hope.... that the powers that be in Ethiopia are slow to implement change.