"Secret Thoughts of an Adoptive Mother"

I finished "Secret Thoughts of an Adoptive Mother" during my vacation and wanted to review it here. On Amazon, it has some quite polarized reviews. People seem to either love it or hate it. I loved it. Despite a few sentiments I COMPLETELY disagreed with. Some agencies are recommending it for pre-adoption study.

The opening premise:

"The process of adopting a child pushes your personal envelope as a woman, as a mother, and ultimately, as a human being. It takes more courage than you think you have, offers more self-knowledge than you think you want, and reassembles your characteristics into something familiar but changed. It took me a lot longer to become a mother than it did to adopt a baby."

That last sentence rings so true. All of it does really.

I went through this book highlighting passages that struck me as insightful, honest, or funny. Despite the seriousness of the topic, Wolff is able to handle some issues with humor. The second chapter is sub-titled "What If We Get A Dud?" and addresses the (I believe universal) fear that one won't like the looks/personality/spirit of the child referred to you. As she puts it: "Meeting your adoptive baby is like being set up on a blind date with someone who will consume your next eighteen years." Scary stuff. Terrifying.

Yet we do it. Some of us.

When I think about all the things that could have gone wrong, from the process and paperwork and country laws, to the child's health or personality... well, it's overwhelming. I must have been INSANE. What was I thinking??? That I could trust an agency to pick out a child across the world that would be a good fit for me and my family???? That's insane! They don't even pick according to temperament (like you might when adopting a pet)... it's just whoever is the right age and next in line. INSANE.

Then she writes a... strong?....horrible?.... honest? letter to her son's birth mother. It includes sentences like:"I know I should be really grateful to you, but I don't feel very grateful about having to beg a complete stranger for her baby when I really want my own." Woah. That I don't agree with. Adoption was my first choice though, I guess it wasn't her first choice and it shows throughout the book unfortunately. The letter continues: "If you don't feel qualified to be a parent yourself, how are you going to decide whether we are qualified? What kind of person would get herself knocked up by a guy who runs away when he hears the news? Haven't you heard of birth control? Of AIDS? Of abortion?... I don't want my kid to be someone's mistake." Yowzaa.... HARSH!

Some of her secret thoughts are more like wishes: "I..secretly wished to be treated with the kindness and special attention bestowed on many pregnant women."

I, too, wished for that. I remember being trounced by a particularly rule-abiding citizen on a online forum. I had written in a celebratory tone that I had used the "Expectant Mother" parking spot in a near empty parking lot in front of Babies 'R Us. She blasted me for that. I remember thinking: "She has no idea what this is like... because if she did, she would have a smidge of compassion and rejoice with me." That there are no physical signs that motherhood was around the corner. As Wolff puts it: "Motherhood was both imminent and elusive... It was very strange and disconcerting to be an instantaneous parent. I may have had a lot of emotional catching up to do, but I had no free time in which to do it." (And I'll add no free energy with which to do it, either.)

One sentence that struck me like a slap across the face was about how adoption "is no one's first choice". It was mine. I can see how if you are struggling with infertility, it might not be your first choice, but using words like "no one" 'never' "always" sets you up to be very wrong, and to offend people in the process. I get what she was saying, but it's not true. I know one adoptee at work, who is glad she was taken away fro her birth mother. it was an abusive situation. So she might also say that adoption was her first choice. There are too many different situations to make sweeping statements like that. but I'm not going to let one sentence put me off a whole book, so I kept reading and I'm glad I did.

The chapters are only a couple of pages and it's a quick read. Even so, there is plenty packed in there to keep you thinking, and learning. Each chapter had me gasping, thinking, laughing, or relating. I recommend the book.

Haiti's Orphanages

From Martha Osbourne of Rainbow Kids:

Helping Haiti 's Most Vulnerable Orphans in Crisis January 02,2010 / Martha Osborne

In the midst of this crisis, many readers of RainbowKids have called and emailed, wondering what can be done for Haiti 's orphans. While it is not possible to adopt Haitian children who have been separated from their families (due to their undetermined orphan status), there is still much that may be done to ease the suffering of these children. On a sad note, we have learned of one orphanage near the epicenter that has been completely destroyed. We were unable to confirm the name of the orphanage, and will add it to this article once confirmed. Several orphanages are taking the precaution of having the children and caretakers sleep outside in the yards or driveways. There are many orphanages that have been damaged, and are in need of the most basic of supplies, including diesel fuel to run generators, water and water purifiers, food, and antibiotics. While the need to take in additional children is being considered by the orphanage staffs, it must also be noted that the caretakers of the orphanages are primarily Haitian women who have their own families to care for during this time of tragedy. Fortunately, we are hearing reports of local families coming forward in the less damaged areas to offer temporary care for the children of the orphanages. Though poor economically, it should be noted that the people of Haiti are a warm and loving people who recognize the needs of their community. They are reaching out to one another, offering their homes and care whenever possible. Currently, the greatest challenge is getting the much needed supplies in and around the country. The easiest and most economic way to do so is to buy supplies in the Dominican Republic, Haiti's nearest neighbor, and use emergency transport (by air and land) to reach the orphanages. This requires monetary donations, and the coordination of existing in-country charities and humanitarian-aid organizations. In short, donations to small, established organizations that have been working with orphanages for years, is the best way for donations to reach the children in an expedient manner. Most of these orphanages are small, housing from 12 to under 100 children. If you would like to donate, please contact one of the following organizations working with children in the orphanages of Haiti: Carolina Adoption Services: Working with Maison des Anges in Tabarre. CAS reports that they have 90 children, with the majority under the age of 2 years. Thankfully, all of the children are unhurt. The orphanage has sustained some structural damage, but the extent of damage is not yet clear. CAS is concerned about basic supplies of food and water for the children. Children's House International: Working with Creche Enfante Jesus. CHI reports little damage at the orphanage and no injuries to children. Major damaged to their office/receiving center in Port-au-Prince, but no one was injured. Greatest Need: Food and Water. They are recommending that all donations go through Chances for Children, to help the orphanages most in need. Tree of Life Adoption Center: Working with HIS Home for Children in Port-au-Prince and Foyer de Sara. TOLA reports that all children are okay and, "The boys' house is damaged, one wall fell down. The children and staff are sleeping outside, afraid that the aftershock will crumble the house. Today they were planning to move the furniture out of that house and find another place to move them. There's about 100 (over) kids in the two location s for HIS Home". They are asking for prayers for their generator that is not in good condition, and that they are able to gather enough food and water to hold them over during this crisis. Bethany Christian Services: Working with God's Littlest Angels orphanage and The Creche Enfants Jesus. Bethany reports that God's Littlest Angels received no damage or injuires, and little structural damage at The Creche. They also report that both orphanages are willing to take in more children as needed. They ask for prayers. Please designate gifts as "Haiti - Earthquake Fund". Holt International: Working with Holt Fontana Village. Holt reports that the buildings received little damage, but that the children are in great distress. Holt is asking for financial assistance for the children and will also be offering assistance to the community. Dillon International: Children are all fine, but disrupted. Many people are moving through the area where the orphanage and hospital are located, which is scaring the children. Some flooding within one building has occured. Greatest need: Gasoline for the generators and ongoing food/water supplies. God's Littlest Angels: An orphanage in Haiti. All children fine, but 90 children sleeping outdoors as building damage is assessed. Children are upset and caretakers doing their best to gather supplies to provide for all needs. We will be adding to this list as more information on reputable organizations and updates on specific orphanages is received. If you have information to share, please contact Martha@RainbowKids.com. Your compassion is gratefully received by the orphans of Haiti.

Is Charlie the lucky one? Really?

Many adoptive parents have blogged about this, so why not me too.

I wanna put my 2 cents in!

But then I read Hijas Americanas' post on the topic and realized I could never be as eloquent. She is a PUBLISHED AUTHOR (something I would LOVE to be, one day) I asked her if I could borrow it and she said 'sure' and so here you are.

---

as luck would have it

“He’s such a lucky boy.”

Baby and I have been stopped by a well meaning town resident who I vaguely know. He’s not the first to say this to us.

“We think we’re the lucky ones,” I say. This is not the first time I’ve answered this way.

For now, I can hate that phrase– He’s such a lucky boy- but it doesn’t yet do any damage to baby’s psyche. One day, though, it will.

The truth is that I don’t see baby’s life as lucky. Being born in a country that is so disproportionately poor and resource-starved to parents who were so poor and resource-starved themselves that they could not raise him (we know a little more about baby’s story than I am implying in the previous sentence but out of respect for baby being the keeper of his story, we are holding that private until we are able to share it with him, and he is able to decide if he’d like to share it and with whom) actually feels to me like anything but luck.

Baby’s life, to me, though, shows me what faith is– faith in something greater than ourselves and faith in other people. Think of a mother who has given birth to this beautiful boy who she, of course, loves with all her heart. Think of the challenge you must be facing in your life to make the decision she makes. Think of the wisdom she has to know that love, sometimes, means not physically holding on– a wisdom I, the girl who holds on too long, could never have. Think of the faith she has to know that the right family will be waiting for him. No, sir, how our baby’s life has evolved is not borne of luck. It came alive when a woman that I admire to my core made a decision based on faith, based on a knowing deep within her, based on a stark assessment of her life and the injustice of this world, based on what might look like hopelessness to some but what I believe is really hopefulness. I don’t know how to dramatically reconcile the poverty of this world; it is what I most wish I were able to do. It wasn’t luck that brought us together. I know that for sure. And though I can’t yet articulate all of it in the way that I wish: I know that baby coming into our lives, our coming into baby’s life is part of something bigger than all three of us.

The other day, I was typing at my computer during BF’s time with baby, and I turned towards the chirping that was going on behind me. On the floor about ten feet away was our baby boy, concentrating hard on a soft car that he was given by one of my dearest friends for his birthday. The moment, it’s smallness and hugeness all in one, stole my breath, and there I was suddenly weeping. He does this to me, this boy. He breaks my heart, opens it up, and warms it all at the same time. Even as I type these words, remembering the scene, the unremarkableness of the moment wrapped in the remarkableness of our union, I am weeping again. There are times when the only prayer that I can say, the only words that I can muster are ”please, let me do enough.” Not my best, because I am terrified that I will somehow justify less than enough. And this baby boy, his biological parents, they have put so much faith in us, they have given us their trust, they have blessed our lives with this beautiful, beautiful boy. When I was weeping the other day, BF came to me and asked me if I was okay. The feeling inside of me was so big, I couldn’t give it words, I can’t really right now. I just shook my head at him, nodded towards the baby, and, thus, choked him up, too.

Remember that feeling you had the very first time you fell in love? It was so enormous that it almost didn’t fit inside of you. It felt like you would burst at any moment and that if this love somehow didn’t make it, you would die because there would be nothing else worth doing as much as loving this person. I remember thinking sometime in my twenties that love like that, that ferocity, that intensity, that joy laced with fear, doesn’t come back after first love. That the physical, visceral sensation of that only happens once. Weeping out of the blue as my child gummed on his car that day, I realized it comes back. As luck would have it, it comes back with a ferocity that swallows you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks, Hijas, for letting me borrow your beautifully written piece. Go check out her website for other thought provoking posts.

Acceptance and Tolerance

During the 6 months "waiting" period (which I realize was much, much shorter than most PAPs have) I did a TON of reading on trans racial adoption, international adoption, black hair and skin care, Ethiopian culture, etc. I even took the MAPP classes that foster to adopt parents have to take in my state.

I was prepared, based on my education regarding the cultural and racial implications of adopting internationally and trans racially, to hear some less than favorable comments regarding the contrasting colors of our skin when we were seen out and about together.

I had some snappy come backs prepared for the times when a comment was made and I was not in a good mood, and some educational speeches for when I felt patient and kind. Although I was not "worried" about hearing comments, I was fully expecting them.

Well, it's been 4 months home and I haven't heard ANYTHING negative. I have not seen ANY "looks", heard any "whispers" or seen any "stares". And I live in The South.

The. South.

I'm kind of blown away, actually.

I had read several places that both African Americans and Caucasian groups may disagree with trans racial adoption, so I was not sure who, if anyone, would be giving me grief or negative vibes. Instead of negative, Charlie continues to stop traffic, but in a good way. Today at the grocery store, a black man walked by and said "Cute baby!" and smiled at us. At the checkout, a group of 5 African American women all commented on her and how precious she looked. They did not seem annoyed or angry that a white woman was Charlie's mom. They did not question how I came to be her mom.

The workers at her daycare (both black and white) have been giving me hair tips and offering to do her hair every day (because mornings are rushed for me and I often only moisturize and not do any puffs) and seem to LOVE her.

We have yet to go anywhere in public where at least one person hasn't stopped to compliment her, or make some positive remark.

We've been approached by the least likely candidates (middle age men and teenagers) to receive smiles and positive comments. No one has asked anything remotely offensive. At Olive Garden the other day, every person who passed us said something and two in a row said "What a happy baby!" because when she smiles, she lights up the room.

Charlie is so special it seems everyone can see that instantly.

(Yea, I'm not proud or anything).

I'm pleasantly surprised. I should have known though, I live in a very accepting community. Everyone who grew up "different" in the South (gay, goth, punk, nerd, etc) heads to my city when they turn 18, for the diversity in arts and music and low key acceptance of anything different. Including different looking families.

I love where I live.

BOOBIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As you may know, if you've been following our adventure, being able to do anything without Charlie right there has been somewhat impossible. Today, in the shower, I discovered something VERY INTERESTING....


SOMEONE HAS BEEN BREASTFEEDING MY BABY!


Dun-dun-dahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!

No wonder she's so healthy and huge!

Here's how I found out.

First shower attempt (with Pack and Play in the bathroom doorway): BIG FAILURE.

Second shower attempt (with highchair in the bathroom with me): BIG FAILURE.

Third shower attempt (with Charlie free and crawling around bathroom): SUCCESS. Somewhat. She crawled right in the shower with me, diaper and onesie and all. So I undressed her and took a shower with her. She's such a slippery, soapy baby! Anyway, back to the story...

As soon as she saw my boobs, her eyes got HUGE and she looked STUNNED. She was mesmerized by them. She was not looking anywhere else on my body but at my boobs. She reached out with BOTH HANDS and CHOMPED down on one of them! With her teeth! OUCH!

Since she was dropped off at the orphanage at 15 days, I believe this means someone was breastfeeding her at the orphanage. There's no way she would remember her first 15 days with her birth mother to that extent. So there are wet nurses at the orphanage, and nobody told us PAPs. It's fine with me (as long as they are healthy and don't have Hepatitis or something else that can be transmitted through breast milk), and even a really great gift for Charlie really. If she didn't have teeth already, I might even try and continue, but after that bite there is NO WAY.

On another note, check out these blackberries from my garden! They are HUGE! I got three store blackberries with which to compare them. The photos really don't do them justice. They are the size of half my finger! They will make fabulous blackberry jam :-)

So what do you all think about the breastfeeding? Was your child breastfed at their orphange? Did you know about it? There are so many things I'll never know about Charlie's first 10 months..... that's kind of sad really.

To Addis and Back (Part 6) Visiting Charlie's "orphanage"

On our last full day the traveling families got to go and see the care center where our children had spent the last months, or in some cases years. I left Charlie with my mother for several reasons: 1) I didn't want Charlie to think she was returning to the care center for good. 2) I didn't want her to see her main nanny and have to go through a second seperation trauma. 3) My mother had already been to the care center in March so didn't need to go see it again. I'm glad I made this decision, as other families/parents brought their kids along and it was unsettling to see their reactions. I think they all survived it with minimal scars, but I'm just glad I left Charlie with mom. Plus, it gave them a chance to bond a bit, and surprise, surprise, when I'm not around, she is perfectly happy to spend time with her grandmother!


We took a rickety old van on unpaved roads for 30 minutes outside of Addis, passing typical sights of the 3rd world... a skeletal cow grazing on mud (poor thing) on the highway curb, a man lying on the sidewalk either dead or asleep (with 100's of people walking by not giving him a second thought), people in rags squatting on the sidewalk over a kettle, mother's breastfeeding naked babes while sitting on the curb.....

Finally we drove up to the IAG care center gates and the driver honked. The gates opened and the nannies and kiddos were all waiting for us! They were so happy to be reunited with their charges and friends. The kids all gave us the three cheeked kiss in welcome (they do it silently, more like a cheek touch rather than a kiss, while I did it the American way and made MWUAH sounds which got the kids giggling and imitating me ;-)

We saw the infant room where Charlie spent her first 9 months. It was clean and there was no smell at all. The nannies were delighted to meet me once they heard I was Worke's mom. They were also very grateful for the pictures of her I passed out to everyone. The nannies were awesome. They were so loving with the infants, and picked them up the second they started crying.

We were taking so many pictures of the children (for waiting families at home) that it seriously looked like Brad and Angie had stepped out on the red carpet at Oscar time. The babies looked a little shell shocked from all the flashes, but they were resilient and survived the onslaught.

Some of the waiting families had sent over photo albums with us to give to their waiting kids. I took video of several children thumbing through their albums with wonder at seeing their new mommies and daddies and sisters and brothers faces. Upon return I uploaded the videos online for the parents to see, with about 400 photos.

A sound of Ethiopian music drifted down from upstairs and a little boy invited me to come up, so I did. I walked into a room of older kids who had spontaneously started dancing around in a circle! There was an Ethiopian music video playing on the TV, and the kids, ranging in ages from 12 to 4 were dancing in the Ethiopian style, shimmying their shoulders and making jerky motions. They invited their audience to join them and some some of us were in the circle, looking ridiculous, but having fun with them :-) Then I played games with a couple of them, blowing in their ears and making them giggle.

We had a traditional coffee ceremony, which produced such dark coffee that my throat felt like ash the rest of the day!

After that we said our goodbyes. The kiddos gave me heartfelt MWUAHS! all the way to the gate. It was a great day. I was happy to see how joyful the children were, considering their circumstances.

I have a ton of great pictures of this day, but I cannot post them as they are of other families' children.

To Addis and back (Part 5) Donations

Happy 10 month Birthday, Charlie!

Before I start his post I'd just like to thank the AP community (and others) who posted comments on the last thread regarding Charlie's *separation anxiety*. I found them truly helpful. And the fact that EVERY SINGLE comment gave the same suggestions made for a powerful and persuasive lobby. I had, of course, read all about attachment parenting, and knew in theory what to do... but in real life, with Charlie here in front of me and the theories not... plus being swayed by parental advice (even though they are great parents they have never parented an adoptive child as many of you pointed out)... Well I needed you readers and forum members to remind me of the months of studying I had done previously to bringing Charlie home. So I went back to 100% being there for her and not trying to sneak out the room for a bathroom break or whatnot. Although my back is killing me (spasms), she had a much more pleasant afternoon and evening and I did too. She didn't cry AT ALL (because I never left her side) and laughed and played a lot more than she had been. So thank you all for taking the time to respond. Back to the trip journal:

DONATIONS:

.



We brought 4 suitcases of donations for various orphanages. My belief was that my agency care center most likely did not need all 4 suitcases, as every few weeks a new influx of American parents arrive with donations, and I was right. The day we visited her care center, there was a whole courtyard full of suitcases filled to the brim. They are well supplied with diapers, formula, clothing, shoes, medications, etc.

So instead of leaving all 4 with the IAG care center, I did some research ahead of time and my mom asked her Ethiopian friend to do some research as well. We came up with AHOPE

and Mary Joy Aid Through Development as needy organizations that do awesome work.



Each place got a suitcase full of kid's clothes, medications, and jewelry (the edible candy type!) Even the boys enjoyed the candy bracelets! Here are some pictures.


I was not able to go to the orphanages, and deeply regret that. I needed to stay with Charlie, as this was the day she was dropped off at the Guest House. There was no way I was leaving her after waiting all these months to meet her, and she was traumatized and needed to stay put. I know in a general sense what these orphanages are like, having been to several in the past, and worked at one in Bolivia for a summer. Still, I felt sorry I could not go to these, but we can't always go to everything we want to in life. Luckily my mother could go in my stead., She was especially impressed with MJATD, which is not an orphanage, but does outreach in the community regarding HIV/AIDS education and does aid HIV positive kids (just doesn't adopt them out) through community programs. It was started by a Sister named Zebider Zewdie. My mother was very impressed with that program. The website is www.maryjoyusa.org or www.maryjoyethiopia.org

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 3) Embassy Day

("Thanks to Uncle Jamie for the awesome hand painted onesie! I look super cute in it!))

The goal for the next day was to go to the US Embassy and get our childrens' visas for entry into the USA.

Charlie had woken twice during the night for a bottle, and promptly fallen back asleep. She was a restless sleeper though (one minute her head was at the top of the bed, a few minutes later it was pointed towards the foot of the bed). She flipped and flailed all night, limbs bopping me in the face at any given moment. I got little to no sleep, but not really due her her restlessness... I just couldn't sleep from the excitement of becoming a mom in one day. I mean, I know this has been a process, with court dates and small moments of progress towards the final goal. But today was really the day I became 100% responsible for another human being's welfare. It's pretty huge.

Of course, I choose to think about the hugeness at 3 AM because I'm blessed like that.

Nowadays, that's the only time I get to think anymore, so I better get used to it. Ruminating, perseverating, obsessing and worrying all work well with the insomnia I've been suffering from actually... like a hand fits a glove... Perfect!

So I was exhausted on Embassy day, as was Charlie who had (probably) the second most traumatic day of her short life yesterday.

The morning we spent just getting used to each other and then in the afternoon, mom helped me load Charlie into the Ergo carrier and we climbed on the van to the Embassy with all the other families and their kids.



The Embassy looks like a fortress of beige cinder block, not unlike a prison. We had to go through two separate and extensive security checkpoints, more in depth than the airlines make you do. No cameras or cellphones allowed. We were escorted into a hot room with rows of plastic chairs and a germ-y pit of a play area (none of us allowed the kids to go in there, at least, not for long after seeing how gross it was in there!)

Charlie did quite well in her carrier, even though we were made to wait over 2 hours. It was hot in that windowless brick oven of a room, and we didn't bring water for the adults. Charlie, of course, had a huge diaper bag's worth of formula, water (she can drink from a cup!) and all 100 neccessary items a baby needs at all moments of the day.

The space between my back and Charlie's front was rapidly reaching Def-Con 5. She did not cry or have a meltdown though! She did really well and was patient throughout.

Finally all of us had our childrens' visas in hand and headed back for the guesthouse. No one was much in the mood to go out to eat, we were all exhausted.

I just was extremely grateful that I had received Charlie the day before Embassy day... I couldn't imagine what it would have been like if I'd had to bring her to the Embassy in the heat and humidity and wait for 2 hours while she was in meltdown/trauma mode. That would have been unbearable, for her, for me, and for everyone around us.

This was kind of a boring day, with only one goal to be met. Which was good as I was not the only exhausted parent around. One couple from China had adopted two infants and had their hands pretty full! Charlie was a trooper and did very well and made me proud. Ergo? Check! Patience during sweaty wait? Check! Cuteness overload? Check!

Her wonderful temperament was to be severely tested the next day... shopping day. But that's another post ;-) for tomorrow. Stay tuned.

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)

And we're off!

The packing was quite an ordeal. We were spread out in several rooms, in several states (NC and then MD), and over several days!



First we had to pack everything we needed for Ethiopia. Then we had to consider the week in DC once we get back stateside. Then we had to consider carry-on for adults, and carry-on for Charlie (which honestly, most of each type is Charlie's stuff... I'm bringing a pair of jeans, 4 shirts, 4 underwear, a bra and a pair of sunglasses!)


We had piles of donated stuff, piles of ET stuff, piles of stuff for the week in DC, piles for the diaper bag, piles for the suitcase we're leaving behind, donated medications, donated clothing for all ages, donated shoes by the box load.... etc, etc. People were SO generous with donations, however we did not anticipate this and were worried we wouldn't be able to take it all.


Then, once we had everything packed, we had the bright idea to check KLM's policy on extra bags, because with all the donations we had one extra bag. It's $150.00 for ONE extra bag. So re-pack we did! We managed to fit everything, after several packing attempts. I'd rather give AHOPE that $150.00 than KLM frankly.



So today we leave! Please, if you are reading this post, send off a quick prayer or thought into the universe regarding the safety of our flights! I know we are not any more special or deserving of a safe flight than the people on Air France.... I also know that I have been expecting "the other shoe to drop" any day now... because this kind of goodness, this kind of amazing gift (a human being!!! a child!!!) seems like too much for any one person to receive from the Gods... it all feels a bit like it won't come to fruition, like at the last minute something very bad will happen and I will never get to meet Charlie. Or worse, I will meet her and the plane bringing us both back will go down.

So on that bright note.... please help us out and send some positive vibes into the universe so we actually, amazingly, despite the odds, make it back home safe and sound. Any other moms feel that way, like the other shoe dropping, before bringing home a baby?

The final array:


Thank you!!!!!!!!

PS Hi Joyce!!

Promises, promises....

Dear Charlie,

As I pack and get ready to bring you home, I've been thinking about all the fun things we are going to do together, but also about all things I need to do for you. I'm imagining what type of mother I will be, and how I will accomplish the goals I have set for myself. I don't have it figured out yet, and I may never figure it out. So far, this is what I've got: I promise to give you all the "regular things" parents give their kids such as food, medicine, hygiene, protection, school, encouragement, comfort, cuddling, playtime, and a reliable schedule.

I also promise some unique things, just between you and me, our little twosome:

You will get to go back to Ethiopia with me one day.

We will play and eat with other Ethiopian adoptive families as often as possible.

You will never be the only child of color in your school.

I will read you a story as part of your nightly routine.

I will offer you the freshest, non-refined foods I can find.

I hope to teach you to recognize and cope with your emotions.

I will learn to make some Ethiopian dishes for us to enjoy.

I will learn to do your hair in ways that make you feel pretty.

We will honor your birth mother on Mother’s day and many other days.

I will offer you my support in dealing with any adoption issues or grief you may experience.

I will not expect you to fulfill all the goals I haven’t gotten around to fulfilling yet.

I hope to be a feminist role model, meaning an independent woman who is able to take care of herself, have a career, and have loving relationships.

I will give you choices in daily life, and even allow you to make mistakes. If you make big ones, I will stand by you as you fix them.

I will not rush you into growing up, and not infantilize you once you do.

I will validate your feelings.

I will allow you to explore your independence (although I may be holding my breath the whole time so please be quick about it and get it over quickly!)

I promise I will not use my saliva to clean your face.(Unless it’s an emergency and no one is watching.)

I won't be perfect in any of these pledges, but I will do my best.

Love,

Your Mama

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)

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

Orphan - the movie

"The tragic loss of their unborn child has devastated Kate and John, taking a toll on both their marriage and Kate's fragile psyche as she is plagued by nightmares and haunted by demons from her past. Struggling to regain some semblance of normalcy in their lives, the couple decides to adopt another child. At the local orphanage, both John and Kate find themselves strangely drawn to a young girl named Esther. Almost as soon as they welcome Esther into their home, however, an alarming series of events begins to unfold, leading Kate to believe that there's something wrong with Esther -- this seemingly angelic little girl is not what she appears to be. Concerned for the safety of her family, Kate tries to get John and others to see past Esther's sweet facade. But her warnings go unheeded until it may be too late... for everyone."

Okkkkkkk.....

Hmm.

Anyone else think this might give adoption a bad name? Play on fears?

There is actually a line in the trailer that says “it must be hard to love an adopted child as much as your own”.

From an email I received: "Without having seen the movie or read the script, it is hard to know if the entire movie is sending a ghastly adoption message, but the trailer certainly leads us to believe it is. This feeds the notion that older adoptees are very troubled and you should beware.... that's not an image any of us want the general public to have of our kids. It plays into people's deepest fears.There is a growing group pursuing a boycott of the film, sending out emails and posting on online bulletin boards. I urge you to forward this email to others personally involved in adoption, help disseminate the boycott message and write to the producers and distributors expressing your displeasure with the message being sent."

To complain: To complain by letter, here is contact info:
ADDRESS:
Time Warner Inc.
One Time Warner Center
New York, NY10019-8016
212.484.8000



To contact the Board Members:
c/o Office of the Corporate Secretary
Time Warner Inc.
One Time Warner Center
New York, NY 10019



The only email I could find was for INVESTOR RELATIONS - but hey, it's better than nothing. If people want to complain via email instead of by letter, it couldn't hurt to send thousands of emails to investor relations:
ir@timewarner.com

Charlie's got a mother again :-)

Everyone, I'd like to introduce Charlize Izabelle Worke, my DAUGHTER.

I passed court! It took my agency an hour past what they originally told me because of the spotty internet in Ethiopia, but luckily my SW was smart enough to realize what was going on and asked that a call be placed. Court went smoothly.

(All photos are clickable to get a clearer and bigger view)

Referral picture, several weeks old.

Meeting her grandmother for the first time. Her grandmother will be called "Babcia" which is grandmother in Polish. Look at the bonding potential. This is the picture that sealed the deal for me (emotionally). I could see how well she would fit into my little family.

Just after receiving the yellow duckie, which would soon become her favorite toy.

Moments after duckie, look at the joy in her face. Sigh. Kids can be so full of joy. "Joy" (the emotion) is so fleeting as an adult, but kids have buckets of it, they overflow with it. Even in an orphanage. Amazing Charlie.

Some of the wonderful personality my mom reports Charlie has (smiley, easy-go-lucky, even-tempered) comes through loud and clear in this picture.

Aww, this is too cute, this picture. It makes me smile everytime I see it, which is several times a day. I have these pictures all blown up big and keep them taped up on the 4 walls of my office where I can stare at them inbetween each client. I basically live in a "Charlie box".

This is the Mother's Day photo my agency sent me, the most recent picture of Charlie. Notice she still has the duckie, weeks later.

Well, I am completely over the moon happy. I hate that expression, but that's what I am. More thoughts coming... I need to digest and enjoy this moment right now.

What do you think guys? Am I the luckiest mom in the world, or what?

I Love You Like Crazy Cakes. BUT! AND! BUT! AND!

Hee hee.... Cuteness.

Conflicted....

I saw this video on another blog and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Of course I'm glad the children are not being killed anymore. But something about the presentation.... again we have the Western world (or let me just say it, the "white man") swooping in to "rescue" people from their own culture. We find this aspect of their culture untenable, so we change it.

I don't know.... It kind of bothers me.

To exemplify the narcissism of this point of view: what if another culture came along and called Christians "a suspicious people" and decided praying to a cross was "backwards" and razed all the churches.... hmm? Basically, it's a similar situation. We are coming in uninvited because we don't respect this tribe's "beliefs" or their way of life.

Is it better to allow a child to die, or to come in and change the way a culture has been living for centuries?

But I'm glad the children are being cared for.

What do you all think?


Drawn from Water from Drawn From Water on Vimeo.

Daughter from Danang

Since this is an adoption blog I thought I would post this movie. I'm pro-adoption, obviously, but this movie is not. However, it's important, even being pro-adoption and certainly being in the midst of an adoption, to educate myself on all aspects. Certainly there are adoptions that are not motivated by benefiting the child.

Daughter from Danang

A heartbreaking documentary that upsets your expectations of happily-ever-afters, Daughter from Danang is a riveting emotional drama of longing, identity, and the personal legacy of war. To all outward appearances, Heidi is the proverbial “all-American girl”, hailing from small town Pulaski, Tenn. But her birth name was Mai Thi Hiep. Born in Danang, Vietnam in 1968, she’s the mixed-race daughter of an American serviceman and a Vietnamese woman. Fearing for her daughter’s safety at the war’s end, Hiep’s mother sent her to the U.S. on “Operation Babylift”, a Ford administration plan to relocate orphans and mixed-race children to the U.S. for adoption before they fell victim to a frighteningly uncertain future in Vietnam after the Americans pulled out. Mother and daughter would know nothing about each other for 22 years.

Now, as if by a miracle, they are reunited in Danang. But what seems like the cue for a happy ending is anything but. Heidi and her Vietnamese relatives find themselves caught in a confusing clash of cultures and at the mercy of conflicting emotions that will change their lives forever. Through intimate and sometimes excruciating moments, Daughter from Danang profoundly shows how wide the chasms of cultural difference and how deep the wounds of war can run--even within one family.

This documentary is a little over an hour, so give yourself some time to watch. It's not the happy ending type of story one might expect from a reunion. All adoptions are unique. This was an eye-opener as to some of the challenges that may occur during a reunion. It's also pretty anti-adoption, but based on the circumstances of the Vietnam war and Operation BabyLift... well that was not a positive time for our country or Vietnam and it's complicated still. Mixed in with strong reunion emotions, Heidi also has to contend with serious culture shock. I wish someone had been able to prepare her better. It seems this disaster occured because of the cultural differences and even 2 years later she has not been able to integrate those differences. It's such a shame as her birth mother is still in such pain.

Once you hit the "play" button, you can make this full screen by clicking on the lower right-hand corner box (next to the volume button that looks like a megaphone). I recommend viewing it full screen as there are some nice shots of Vietnam.