Welcome Bag

There's not a lot of real action to report on the adoption front, however our Dossier is in Ethiopia being translated into Amharic.  I have been working on assembling a "Welcome Bag" which is our only chance to send Mareshet a gift before I come to pick her up, hopefully in June.  I found the softest teddy bear imaginable for her.  I spent lots of time looking for just the "right" bear, a little messenger carrying the touch of a mother.  It took a lot of hugs to identify the best carrier teddy for the tenderness I want Mareshet to feel when she receives our package.  I probably looked a bit odd (or at least lonely) in the toy store, as I tried them all out!  But I'm really counting on this little guy...

I also created a T shirt for Mareshet with our picture on it.  I hope this is the only time in my life I will be compelled to make a T shirt of myself; it's quite embarrassing.  But this is what she will wear to announce that she has a family waiting for her.  As for the rest of the Welcome Bag contents, I've taken them out and put them back in so many times.  I keep changing and rearranging what I think will fit into the requisite gallon-sized Ziploc bag.  As it stands, in addition to the bear and shirt, we will also send a letter, a small photo album with pictures of N. and I, a disposable camera so the staff can get photos of Mareshet receiving her bag, a red and white striped pair of children's sunglasses, and some stickers.  I keep trying to jam in other things like a stationery set, a beaded bracelet, other small things... but in the end I have to trust that she will be most content by simply knowing we are out there.  I can't wait for her to understand how much she is wanted.  We talk about her as if she is already with us.

Mareshet is ours!

Apologies for not updating the blog more recently; things have been moving quickly and I was out with a cold.  But we have accepted a referral for Mareshet, who is about six!  It went a little like this (apologies to D. Sheff for the literary style):

Fortunately, I had been in contact with Erin, one of the workers at AAI.  She sent me a few pictures of some of the waiting children, and I became intrigued by Mareshet.

Unfortunately, I was still waiting to have my Homestudy approved by AAI so that I could see Mareshet's file.

Fortunately, it was approved a couple of days later!

Unfortunately, it did not approve me for a child over the age of four.

Fortunately, my birth date was wrong (I instantly aged six years).  My homestudy worker was a gem and corrected not only the age (whew) but the age of approval to six.

Unfortunately, Erin pointed out that Mareshet will be seven (per record) in the year that my case will go to court.

Fortunately, they caught it at AAI and changed it to seven!  

I then received Mareshet's file, and it didn't take me long to figure out that she belongs with a family like us.  The rest will be history!  I have since heard that my Dossier was sent to Washington DC, then to Ethiopia to be translated.  I also received a notice from Immigration with my scheduled fingerprinting (or biometrics) appointment.  It's very Meet the Robinsons.

Mareshet is on record as having been born in 2002, but few in Ethiopia remember when she was born, exactly.  Her mother and father died.  When I opened her file and saw their names, baldly printed there in black and white, I started to cry.  Their cause of death is not listed, which suggests HIV infection.  Mareshet lived with her mother's sister for a time.  But since they lived in utter poverty, the auntie ultimately relinquished Mareshet to the orphanage.  It is heartbreaking that this sweetie lost her parents at such an early age.  What does she remember of them?  She has been in care for a year.  Is she starting to forget her auntie?  

My daughter is the same age as Mareshet must have been when she lost her mother.  I can't even think about the terror she would feel, to lose us.  My stomach literally turns in panic--how could I leave her so vulnerable, so needy?  In my case, I am reassured to know many who would step in and care for her.  But for Mareshet, it was a different world.  Then to be relinquished by the one person who had stepped in for her parents... loss upon loss.  I wish I could tell her parents, "Don't worry, I am here!  I was here all along!  I will take your baby home and get her to school and love on her like you did.  Your precious only daughter is going to be part of a family and have shoes and birthday parties and books and live to be eighty if I have anything to do with it!"

  I hope to be able to meet the auntie when I'm in Ethiopia, to introduce myself and get her blessing.  Maybe she has photos of Mareshet's parents, stories or memories.  I will try to keep any links to her past and mementos of the family she grieves for.

Mareshet is said to be active, friendly, eager to help with the younger children at the orphanage, playful, and pretty healthy as far as things go.  She has a big toothy smile and soft brown eyes.  She has no hair to speak of since it is kept so short in the name of bug control.  I just wish I could go get her right now.  Najma is very, very excited to have a big sister.  She has brought her picture in to school for Circle Time.  She has decorated pictures to hang in her room.  Since Mareshet is such a peanut, and Najma is pretty tall for her age, they may be physically close in size.  We have the opportunity to send Mareshet a Welcome Bag with a t-shirt, photos, and small toys.  In this way, she will learn that she has a family waiting for her.  I love this idea, but I also wish that she knew now.  It may take a month for our Welcome Bag to reach her.  I wish she knew we were here planning for her right this minute!  I'd post her picture but it's against the regulations until she is officially adopted.  Thank you to everyone who has been so congratulatory and aware that this is just as momentous as having a baby born into our lives.  

Joy to the World! Despite the Headlines

Well it's been a terrible week in the news, with psychos calling themselves Muslims committing heinous acts in India, Pakistan and God only knows where else.  It's been a week I want to forget, as I walk around constantly conscious of my headscarf and clothes.  Only when I've been able to sit and contemplate the truth of my faith am I able to reclaim my identity, proudly, as a Muslim.  I know who I am, I just need some reassurance sometimes that I'm not the only Muslim out there who still believes in love and respect.  Oh, sure-- there's about a billion others out there, but it is all too easy to feel alone unless I actually pick up the phone and do some networking.

Trumping all of the ugly stuff, however, is the joyous arrival of Baby Grace!  My dear friends have been waiting for nearly three years to adopt and finally their dreams have come--suddenly-- true!  I can't wait to meet all five pounds of her, as if I can't quite believe the miracle until I see her.  Magically, the woes of the world seem to melt away with just this one, beautiful birth.  Welcome, Gracie, I am honored to be your Auntie!  Welcome, also Baby Violet, who I met tonight at a week and a half old!  What a good reminder of how small and vulnerable and innocent we are as we come to this Earth.  Can we project that natural lovingkindness that babies elicit from us outward into our communities?  God bless the babies and their mommies, please, tonight.  Above, my own newborn babe, over three years ago-- did she really start out so little?

Second Home Study

I am excited because there are only two more documents left to secure, then I send it all off to my agency.  The second home study visit was yesterday morning, and it was relaxed and enjoyable.  Once the social worker types up the rest of the home study, it is sent to the agency and, together with my paperwork, becomes the Dossier.  It is then sent to Ethiopia and translated.  Two documents were sent to Olympia to be stamped with a State Seal, and since my check has been cashed, I feel reasonably confident that this has been done.  I also sent away for a new passport, and that check has also been cashed.  So, a lot of progress has been made, now that I stop and think about it.  The social worker is estimated about a year until a child is able to be brought home, which matches other estimates I've heard.  It seems like such a long time.

Last weekend I also traveled to see my mother and break the adoption new to her.  I was rather worried about it as my larger decisions tend to unseat her.  But she seemed quite happy at the prospect of being a grandmother again.  It also probably helped to have given her the beautiful photo book, Faces of Layla, as she could visualize who the waiting children are.  Now that I've told my mother, I feel like I can bring up the adoption more casually, and to family.  I'm trying very hard not to get too attached to the idea of a toddler, because there is a big possibility that the child referred to me will be different than what I am picturing.  I'll be thrilled regardless, but until a referral comes, I want to keep my mind open.

For those friends abroad, enjoy this photo of N. riding a pony and with her friend M.

Home Study

 We had our first visit from the contract social worker on Wednesday evening.  I had spent the prior two weeks unpacking the remaining moving boxes, cleaning, trimming the hedges, re-grouting the bathroom, and generally freaking out.  So I was surprised that my social worker did not even ask for a tour!  She just sat down at the kitchen table, and chatted with me about doing this work and why I was interested in adopting.  Period.  She mentioned that she had already received two recommendations (thanks Megan and Tiffany!) and together with the information I had supplied in my application materials, had already sketched out part of the home study.  She said that she would visit us once more, and then generate the report within ten days!  In many respects, this adoption process has been moving along at a pace I never imagined.  At the beginning of the month, I received the Dossier paperwork and began a veritable scavenger hunt for supporting letters.  Though the effort expended to gather all the pieces is considerable, as a new transplant to my town, it has been a way to get to know my community.  I needed a notarized letter from my bank, another from my workplace, another from the police station, my doctor, and so on.  I needed to learn where the town hall is, and how to renew my passport.  I found the closest photo shop and post office.  All in all, I have met a lot of nice people and feel a bit like I'm in an episode of Sesame Street.  "Who are the people in your neighborhood, in your neighborhood...?"

Last weekend I also spent time with Ethiopian friends, learning some Amharic words.  We are all hoping that the new child actually understands Amharic, as there are over 70 spoken languages in Ethiopia.  But it will make travel easier, regardless.  My friends are wildly excited at the prospect my adopting a child from their birthplace.  They assured me that just as their home is a second home to Najma and myself, so it will be for the new addition.  I watched the mother prepare injera, the sourdough flat, spongy bread that is the mode of transportation between hearty Ethiopian stews and one's mouth.  It is a lot of work.  They were amazed, and very touched, to hear that American families are trying to learn to make injera and cook with berbere spices for their adopted children.  Auntie encourages all of us to just purchase injera, and save the hours of labor for the new children :).  

I continue to try and collect my needed letters and put my home in order, but after this week, I feel more relaxed.  I feel the prospect of mothering another child is lightening my spirit.  I know the wait will seem odious at some point, but at this moment, I am buoyed by the progress I have made so far toward my child.  

Najma on Where Babies Come From

Well, a week ago Monday I went to the Post Office to mail in my "big packet" of paperwork and checks to the agency.  My daughter (3) was with me, and she asked me what the packet was.  Unprepared, I said, "well, it's a letter to another social worker."  She wanted to know what it was about.  I replied, "Remember when your friend M. was adopted last month?  She is home forever with her adoptive mom.  I wrote to the social worker to find out if other little girls needed a home.  Would you share your home with another little girl?  Then you would have a sister."

She replied, "Yeah, I want a sister.  She could play with my toys."

The next day, we were having dinner and, completely out of the blue, she said to me, "Remember when you mailed that letter to the social worker?"

"Yes..."

"Can we get a baby sister now?  I want a baby sister to snuggle."

I told her that adoption takes a long time, and that we probably won't get a tiny baby.  Then I asked her where she thought babies came from, aware that she has known many pregnant women. 

"Babies 'R Us, " she replied confidently.  

Nevertheless, I know her basic understanding of where babies come from is still intact because she later asked me whether about her ballet teacher, currently several months pregnant.

"Is Miss M's baby going to be our baby?"  

I'm assuming Najma's concept of social workers is even less clear.  Her favorite movie last year was Lilo and Stitch.  In this Disney movie, the child welfare worker (aka FBI alien investigator) is a tall, African American man with an earring who perpetually wears sunglasses and never smiles.  When I told her I was also a social worker, she said, "No mom, you're not a social worker!"  I suppose I don't look the part!  I have since tried to point out my other friends who are bona fide social workers and she's not buying it.  I will be interested to see what happens at the time of our home visit.

Meanwhile, I have told a few people in my life about these adoption plans.  Though I have received support and measured enthusiasm, I am a little confused at the true surprise most people have shown.  I might have well said, "I'm taking a moonwalk today."  While I have tried not to make any assumptions about how people will react, on some level I want to ask, "Why is this so surprising?  Don't you know me at all?"  I guess I underestimate how much shock value adoption still raises.   

Here We Go

Welcome, new readers!  This weekend I'll be completing the last of the gigantic paperwork bundle that the adoption agency sent to me after my initial application.  It includes things like the US immigration forms, Medical forms, and a Personal Data form.  I found the Personal forms challenging because the questions are open ended and all about my life's path, but they give you space for only about two lines of text.  It took me a couple of weeks just to do that packet alone, usually when Najma was sleeping.  I have started to tell a few more people about my plans.  Notably, I did break the news to a co-worker, someone who would be affected directly should I go on leave.  However, I think she took it rather well.  And with a year or more of likely wait time until I meet my new child, she will have plenty of time to process and we can be planning for it together.  I also told a mentor and friend at work, who provided the enthusiasm and joy I needed to bolster my confidence a bit.  Thanks, J. :)  Now I have to gear up to tell family, and Najma's father.  I really have no idea what to expect but assume major anxiety will be part of the mix.  Maybe Thanksgiving would be a good time.  Or maybe after the kid arrives :)

Anyway, today I'll head to Kinkos and make copies off the papers and the checks, and get it ready to send to the agency insha'llah.  It's not a point of no return, but it's also a significant commitment financially and emotionally.  Here we go!  Yikes-yippee!

Expecting Mother

I have not had a chance to write for a while since my daughter came down with strep throat. This weekend I was out of commission typing-wise because I was trying to child proof the medicine cabinet and ended up cutting my hand.  Seriously, why do I attempt home improvement projects without supervision?  For those of you who know me, you will notice that I'm using a pen name-- "Sakinah" means tranquility, and who wouldn't want to have more of that in her life?  I'll use "Najma" for my daughter, because that's what she is: a star.

We have spent the last golden days of summer at parks and exploring our neighborhood. Highlights include running on Edmonds beach, and the castle-esque play structure on the Bastyr University Campus.  I have also been letting the idea sink in that I am not so different than all the pregnant women in my life.  I, too am expecting a child, even if I have no "due date" to speak of, no sense of who this child is yet.  I have been following posts to the agency's Ethiopian adoptions list-serv.  I marvel at the other members' transition from referral, to travel, to meeting their child, parenting their child!  Someday that will be me.  Someday I'll be separating two little girls who want to fight over the last cookie.  I'll be getting up in the middle of the night again, this time for a grieving child.  I'll be making the only meal that she will eat every day, singing the favorite song ad nauseam, trying to exit the child care as gracefully as possible with a child clinging to my leg.  Despite the challenges I've had with my bio daughter, I know I'm in for so much more.  Yet I'm excited.  I anticipate challenges (even difficult attachment) with hope.  If no one else can see that I'm expecting, it doesn't matter, I can feel it inside, and it is electrifying.

I've had a few friends come forward with great tenderness to endorse this adoption journey. They've shown me that they have confidence in my parenting and are willing to support me through it once again.  Thank you to those few of you whom I've trusted with this news, and for all of those soon to learn, including my family... know that I have delayed telling you only as long as it has taken to get my bearings.  I hope that you'll be able to see that I've been waiting to parent for so long, and wishing for a large family at that.  I've had some setbacks, but you know me-- I'm ambitious about these things and ready for a second child.  If you wonder whether adopting means I chose not to remarry, rest assured that the guy I'm looking for is open to a blended family-- and more children, God willing!  Until he appears, I am looking forward to my second child, and would love to tell you all about it.

Ah, I must sign off.  My instinct told me something was awry--Najma has plugged the toilet with about a half a roll of toilet paper.  Cheers,

sakinah

Beginning of a Journey

Peace and Blessings to my friends and family.  Assalaamu 'alaikum.  This blog is a record of my journey toward an Ethiopian adoption.  I felt that I needed a place to mindfully track my thoughts, given how busy my life can be.  I also wanted to learn whether this blog can generate community and mutual support around the adoption process, and particularly Muslims adopting.  If you Google adoption, one thing that becomes apparent is that there are a lot of religiously affiliated groups out there doing this good work.  But for a Muslim like myself, this can create the false illusion that there are no other single Muslims out there who are open to adoption.  I hope that for those of you out there who are considering adoption or who have adopted, you can add your voice to this blog.  

The adoption agency I have chosen is Adoption Advocates International, based here in Washington.  I was drawn to this particular nonprofit because it seems to have good ethics, does not have a bunch of angels and crosses all over their website, and they have a good track record.  You can read more about the efforts of this agency in the book by Melissa Faye Greene, There is No Me Without You: One Woman's Odyssey to Rescue Africa's Children (2006).  Her website (www.thereisnomewithoutyou.com) has a nice link to information about Ethiopian adoption.  Obviously, I adapted this blog's title from her book's title.  AAI also works to keep HIV+ children healthy and has pioneered adoption work of HIV+children to the US.  AHOPE for Children, (www.ahopeforchildren.org) is a partner agency that houses and schools HIV+ children, and even more importantly, provides them access to the lifesaving drugs that has turned AIDS into a manageable chronic illness for most Americans.  I support AHOPE and during this time of economic depression in Ethiopia, I encourage you to consider doing so as well.  

When I was participating in a public health residency in South Africa, I visited a hospital program for adults who were dying of AIDS.  It was like a converted warehouse with rows upon rows of human beings, sharing bedspace and the heavy expectation of death.  It reminded me of a slave ship galley.  On the other end of the spectrum, I also saw grassroots efforts to create acceptance and community around living with HIV.   Mothers to Mothers to Be (M2M2B) is a mentorship program where women birthing babies are tested for HIV, offered treatment for their babies, and provided a combination of training and skillbuilding to help support the next cohort of mothers through their childbirth preparation and postpartum.  It is a perfect example how people can support each other through discrimination to care for their children.  Visit www.mothersprograms.org to learn more about this group.  Also, Nkosi's Haven (www.nkosi.iafrica.com) is a nonprofit founded in the memory of a special little boy that creates a home for HIV+ mothers and children.   South Africa is not currently allowing adoption.  With the staggering numbers of children orphaned by AIDS, I began to investigate community based nonprofits like those mentioned above, with the idea of adoption in the back of my mind.

In 2006 I was contacted by a local childbirth education agency to help a Muslim woman who was 8 1/2 months pregnant and hoping to find a Muslim adoptive family for her child.  Her circumstances were indeed challenging and while adopting out children is unusual in Muslim societies, she felt it was the best way to serve this child.  I put her in contact with a local open adoption agency, but unfortunately, there were no Muslim waiting families.  I began to send out emails, asking Muslims I knew to spread the word to prospective adoptive families.  I would have been open to adopting the baby myself, though I was married at the time and my husband did not approve.  The baby was born before a family could be located.  I served as the doula for the mother, who would continue to receive counseling from the adoption agency.   I began receiving calls from all over the US and Canada... and thanks to God, a local Muslim family who had been interested in foreign adoption stepped forward and became the baby's new family.  By witnessing the events, I became more thoughtful about adoption in my future, somehow.  In my divorce process, I realized that in giving up my chance to have more biological children, I would be opening myself to the prospect of an adoption.

And that's how I arrived here, with a giant pile of paperwork, dreaming of another child in my home... praying for the family that has made the terrible decision to give her up.