Friday, September 25, 2009


It is hard to believe that I met Mareshet over a month ago. Time has really flown by, and yet at times it feels like we are still in the early stages of making an introduction. Tomorrow we will have been home three weeks, and I am delighted to say that she is taking more bites of new foods at my urging. Most of these are summarily rejected with a look of total disgust on her face. Sometimes she even adds a dramatic retching, which is most pleasant to observe at the dinner table. Her feelings about American food notwithstanding, Mareshet is sleeping well and can recite our daily routine like a song. She is doing great in kindergarten and comes home every day brimming with news that is most creatively expressed with a combination of her English words and pantomime. This is how I learned that she has been getting into the lunch line on occasion and eating pizza and ice cream. Note to self: talk to the office about lunch bill in arrears. I also hear snippets of the school pride song, and a version of Zippadee Doo Dah which sounds like Dippity ooh Ah. I went to Parent Teacher night last night, which was notable to Mareshet for two reasons. One: I sat in her chair in the classroom! How funny a thought. And Two, the girls were left at home with a bona fide teenage babysitter, which is the ultimate in cool. Thanks to Julie Hehn, I was set up with a fabulous Amharic speaking, experienced babysitter. She was willing to share one of her seventeen year old daughters adopted from Ethiopia, no small favor since Amelework is a big helper in this family of 29.

I think the kids had a great time but even so, I had two big hugs waiting for me when I came home. I think Mareshet is really deepening in her attachment, slowly but surely. Usually, it comes out in frustrating behavior like stalling as we're trying to get out the door for school. But upon later reflection, I recognize separation anxiety in the mix. For instance today, she tearfully refused to walk into the school with "that coat." Granted it is a sunny day, but I reminded her that Mrs P. asks students to bring their coats every day and hang them on the hook. Mareshet shot me a look that was pure rebellion, and I ultimately had to carry her into the school. As I tried again to give her the coat to put away, she took the rag doll approach: "I have no arms and cannot hold anything." Finally, the damn tardy bell ringing, I just tossed the jacket into the room over her head, gave her a hug and kiss and took off. But just before I left, I heard her whine, "Don't go mommy." Sigh. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to finesse the drop off in a nobler way. Much as she loves school I'm beginning to think she loves me more. And until she has a better way of showing it, I'm going to have a lot of these mornings yet.

Monday, September 14, 2009

To Addis and Back


Dear Friends, I am back home now after a two week trip to Ethiopia. I didn't have much chance to update this blog before leaving, as I was constantly re-packing and getting all the medical supplies to fit into the bags. My friend Z. accompanied me on the flight so it passed quickly enough. As a native Ethiopian, she served as my interpreter, guide, optimist, and bargain hunter. I loved getting to know her better on this voyage! As we flew, I just could not believe that I would be meeting my daughter the next day. I felt nervous, more nervous that I have ever felt. What would she think of me?? We arrived in Addis and were told that no one had expected my arrival so soon at AHOPE. I am not sure why this is the case since I'm pretty sure that our social worker had alerted them. However, I wanted to get over and see Mareshet right away, not wait the weekend as was suggested to me. All the children were excited to see us arrive, asking for photos to be taken of them and calling for Mareshet. Eventually she emerged from the crowd, hair wet, trembling. One of the caregivers asked her to give me a hug and before I knew it, her little dripping self was tentatively around my waist. I recognized her immediately, and as she ran back in to have her hair pulled back, I just stood there stuck by the enormity of the moment. She came back to the guest house with me on a trial basis, and ended up wanting to spend the night. The staff were surprised that she would want to stay with me in the first day. But she seems to be a child who is ready for a mother. She spent the night mastering the use of the iPod, bouncy, with her nervous system juiced up. I felt exactly like I had a newborn baby all over again. I didn't sleep much that first night. But Mareshet eventually threw her arm over my shoulder and slept like a rock. She never did go back to sleep at AHOPE, prompting questions from staff. I think their feelings were a bit hurt that she didn't want to be there more. However, we started the work of bonding with meals taken together, playing cards (she is a card shark), coloring, taking pictures of one another, kicking the soccer ball. When Z was not around, she tested limits like any intelligent kid. However, it was not long before I realized that she will find attachment without too much difficulty, and she is very bright. She can read and write in Amharic and English, and do sums. She constantly studies people and reads expressions. And she has a wry sense of humor, and loves to tease and be teased. I did get to meet her birth family, and take video and photos. Her auntie who helped raise her told me, tearfully, that she was passing along the responsibility, just as her mother did to her. I could see how much she loved Mareshet, like her only child. We both cried and it was one of the most powerful experiences of my life. I struggled with feelings of guilt over my privilege in this world, and the awfulness of the idea of having to give up my child for a better future elsewhere. I do think her aunt's words helped give Mareshet permission to bond with me, because she seemed to be more at peace and to hug and snuggle more. Honestly, I was surprised that she would want to be so physical in the first weeks, but she seems to follow her desire for nurturing, rather than try and suppress it. The plane ride was challenging and I was never more happy to arrive safely in Seattle after the ordeal. We left behind many loved ones new and old, and I really feel like we have family in Ethiopia.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Sayonara Subaru

The mechanic's grim face said it all. My Subaru Forester, my companion in fieldwork, high adventure, and Seattle traffic, is not long for this world. Not without an engine transplant at least, and I am too cheap for this. My feelings ranged from disbelief ("is this a con?") disillusionment ("after all that we've been through!"), dismay ("what more financially can go wrong during this adoption"), and disgust ("one of the most reliable cars my ___"). Looking back, I had had warning signs (the belch of black smoke when I started it up in the mornings, for example) but I had been in denial. After all this was a car built to last. Heck, I figured I had five to ten more years left in that baby--what's a little smoke? But in the end, destiny found me and it was a silver blue Toyota Sienna with a stereo worthy of my Stevie Wonder anthology. I had contemplated that one day, perhaps in another half decade, I would look into a minivan. But I'm taking it as a sign that the new car, which seats eight, was destined to be part of my more immediate future. All along I felt that the Forester, while great for carting around a seventy pound dog and then an equally messy baby, didn't offer enough space for sundry friends, groceries, school bags etc. I would glance covetously at passing minivans thinking that somehow the people driving them were more prepared for all of life's adventures with kids. They had more airbags, more cup-holders... more distance between the driver and fussing passengers. Now I feel ready, like a ball player with a newer, better mitt that means the difference between glory and riding the bench. I dare to wonder whether another babe might be out on the horizon, circling, needing to land in a safe place-- like my plush third row seats. I imagine God lobbing a child, a pop fly, way up into right field and I'm there with my mitt, with my eye on the ball as it gets larger and larger, realizing all I need to do is get under it and I can make the catch. Some of you may scoff, some of you may shake your head in doubt or wonder. But in years to come, you will know the answer before the question. Yes, my dream of another child does come out of right field.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

What Mama Has it Together, Really?


Here is a photo of the elementary school hallway, with banners that say "welcome to our school" in many languages, including Amharic!  I can't wait to show it to Mareshet.  I have been putting off writing a new post because I keep thinking I'll hear some news from Ethiopia, to no end.  Since the adoption was finalized, I have been given a tentative Embassy date for the end of July, only to hear later that the TB testing had not been started.  Now I'll be lucky for the Embassy appointment to happen in August.  The testing, a requirement for all immigrants to the US, is done by culturing out sputum samples for eight weeks.  We are now in week 2.  So, while I'm sure other things happen in that time (from an agency perspective), I am really doing nothing but twiddling my thumbs.  That and trying to reconcile my hopes for time to work on attachment and acculturation with Mareshet with the reality that I won't have the summer months for this as planned.  She will likely be free to enter the US at the end of August, without even enough time for dentist appointments, physicals, English Language testing, and grade placement before the school year starts.  So, I suppose I will shift my leave of absence to the fall and just hope that this kid can adjust quickly.  Maybe on an alternative school schedule initially.  I'm trying to process my disappointment that Mareshet's introduction to Seattle will be during the rainy season, and that she and Najma and I can't spend some weekends hiking or camping as a way to get to know one another.  
For the most part, I'm doing okay with the additional wait, though I have moments of wondering whether Mareshet is ever coming home.  In the lowest of these moments, I have a tendency to feel that having a family is something everyone else seems to do with relative ease.  I know this is not accurate;  everyone puts effort into their life decisions, and they often suffer setbacks or regrets.  I do have my regrets, and they tend to foster this illusion that if I do not have a more traditional family, it is because I am somehow "messing it up."  I know this isn't true--if there is a happy ending to be had, it is because I will learn to recognize the blessings of the moment and ask for nothing more.  What I know in my head usually wins out over what remorse and delusions I feel in my heart.  Though truth be told, those regretful feelings never evaporate.   I work on myself through the better part of one day to accept my faults, and then start all over again the next!  

Since Najma is abroad with her father for two weeks, I have had even more time "in my head."  I am missing her, missing my role as a mom.  I miss Najma on a very visceral, perhaps cellular level.  Molecular, even-- I need the scent of her scalp to lower my cortisol levels, I need to smell her breath in the bed beside me to get my REM sleep.  I wish I had not agreed to let her go but at the same time, knowing what it is like to be distanced from a family member (in my case Mareshet) by an artificial border led me to sympathize with her father.  He had not traveled home in some fifteen years, and N. has never met her other grandparents.  I could not, in the end, deny them this experience even if I knew it meant suffering on my end.  I find myself, strangely enough, the mother of two girls, in two different countries, on the other side of the earth.  I have lots of time to myself, yet have no motivation to do anything.  I have a long project list, but I just sit on the couch in the dark and eat ice cream.  I just hope I don't do something stupid to fill the vacuum before they come home, like get a puppy.  Erma Bombeck, where are you when I need you?  


Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Announcing my Daughter...

We passed!  We passed!  God is great, Mareshet is ours, and we are hers!  Joy!  Relief!  Welcome!

N's dad came to take her out for dinner, and I must say... though it may seem contradictory... I am both immensely gratified to hear that I am a mother again, and delighted to have an empty house for the evening.  I am celebrating with leftover takeout food and a chocolate cupcake, to be followed by doing a load of laundry, and then going to bed (if my luck holds) having read a few pages of a book.     

Monday, May 11, 2009

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

My friends, I have had little energy to write.  Let me sum up the past couple of weeks.  On April 28th, our case was heard but Mareshet's Auntie (whose permission is required to proceed with the adoption) did not bring her ID with her.  The judge asked her to come back the next day with the ID, and bless her heart, she did so.  Some day, I'll give that woman a big, grateful hug that just lifts her off the ground...  However, a paper that had previously been in the file was missing.  The judge could not pass the case without it.  The case was rescheduled for May 7th.  The days fortunately passed with the help of friends.  However, on the 7th, the ministry paper was still not completed.  I and about 30 other families were all waiting for the same small detail to be met.  Now I am told that my case will be heard again on the 13th.  I am not sure what to think or believe.  I keep preparing myself for the worst, naively thinking each time that I'll be fine if we don't pass court that particular day.  But each time I am heartbroken--astounded at the core.  I cannot help it if I have the soul of an optimist!  I am getting close to my scheduled leave of absence from work, and need this case to pass soon.  I have decided that I'll travel over to Ethiopia as soon as my leave begins, if only to be with Mareshet and get to know her, and volunteer at the orphanage.  I know that it might be weeks yet before we have clearance to travel.  But I am prepared to go.  Like so many millions of hearts, separated by a border, I ache to know my daughter and bring her home.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Snapping Turtle


I'll admit it, last week I was sulking, something I try never to do.  But I was a real snapping turtle all right.  Our case was not heard in court and we were kept guessing as to when we might have a new date set.  What pulled me out of my funk, aside from excellent company, was remembering that last year at this time, I was embroiled in desperately trying to the house and move before the economy collapsed.  Thanks to God, it did sell and now that nightmare is only a memory.  I keep thinking: Next year at this time, my life will be totally different.  I'll have two little girls squealing and arguing in the background, and maybe I should just relax and enjoy the relative quiet and smaller grocery bills.  That was working well for me until dear Julee sent me ten stunning new pictures of Mareshet taken earlier this month.  Masha'llah, she is absolutely adorable.  I am reassured that she seems healthy and happy, but for goodness sake!!!  I can't wait to be her mommy.  Well, the good news is now our court date is set for April 28th.  I am much more optimistic that this time, our adoption will be finalized.
 
On another note, I devoured the book The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch, and am so grateful to my friend Tana for giving it to me!  In light of losing a parent at a relatively young age, I think I spend a lot of time thinking about the legacy I want to leave for my children.  However, I am embarrassed to say that among other practical steps, I have not updated my Will since the divorce; I've been waiting for the finalization of the adoption.  I'm happy to say that Mareshet does already have godparents, even if this is not really part of Islamic culture per se.  But I suppose my goal before the next court date is to get a draft based on some sound legal and financial advice (both Islamic and otherwise).  Friends, please remind me that this can't wait.  Mareshet has already lost two parents, and if something happens to me without plans in writing, I'll never forgive myself.  On a happier note, check out Miss Sassy (above!), who reminds me in all that she does to live out the dreams of my childhood.  

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

More Adventures in Court

Apologies, dear friends for not keeping you more up to date on court.  It is no wonder I came down with a cold and spent the last couple of days on the couch.  Every day has dawned with unappealing news from Ethiopia.  First, the judge presiding over our case dodged last Friday's meeting with the legal representative, and then again Monday, keeping us all in suspense as to whether she would use the old Power of Attorney Forms.  Now it is a mute point because the new POA are in Ethiopia in the hot little hands of our lawyer, T.  So, we are all waiting with bated breath to learn whether, tomorrow, this judge will rule on our cases which have effectively been in limbo since the 7th.  She has made no commitment to do so, having a number of other cases scheduled for tomorrow.  However, I hope and pray that T. can goad, chide, blackmail, or otherwise urge the judge to pass us as part of the next group.  If she decides to reschedule our little group of families, it may mean several more weeks of waiting.  
It's hard to describe what I've been feeling these past ten days.  Outwardly, I suppose I am functioning semi-capably as ever, but inwardly I just feel the loss of all the days I might have had with Mareshet.  At night, my anxieties seem to take on a vivid life of their own, as I have dream after dream of ever more improbable yet very intricate nightmares.  For example, last night I dreamed that the judge finally did pass our case but when I went to pick up Mareshet, she was a grown woman of about thirty.  When I protested that there must be some mistake, I was sternly told to to live up to my duty as an adoptive parent and take her home!  In another dream, my social worker finally emailed me that the adoption had been finalized, but I was so confused and found it so hard to believe that I ignored the message.  In doing so, I missed my opportunity and another family adopted her!  And my worst dream was when the judge said that I was not qualified as a single parent to adopt Mareshet (and for some reason I was there in this dream, which made her ruling even more biting).  All in all, I have not gotten much sleep and I wake up panicked and confused.   I thought the hard part was over when I finally had made up my mind to accept Mareshet's referral.  Why plague myself now with all these hollow fears?  In the end, I'm sure my subconscious is just busy tidying house.  I may end up with a more sophisticated brain for all this nighttime renovation.  However, the dreams seem to get worse each night and if the judge doesn't pass us tomorrow I'm going to end up neurotic and jaded.
I can't close this page without also commenting that April 10th was also the anniversary of my father's death.  My grief over lost days with Mareshet is compounded by my grief over lost days with my father.  I am, under the best of circumstances, cranky and introspective during early April.   I miss my dad, for all his quirks and Republicanisms.  I especially miss the things we did together, out of doors.  The farther away I feel from Nature, the farther away I feel from him, too.  I badly need a camping trip, a chance to sit and stare into a fire and see stars at night.  I want to lay upon some sunbleached grass out in pine country, and listen to birds and insects and not freeways.  I want my kids to get this too.  Not be raised here, dirt deficient and unaware of rivers.  How to achieve this, I am not sure, as health insurance is not readily doled out to the Thoreaus of the world.  But when I reflect on my dad's brief life, I start thinking:  maybe there is more to life than this.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Court Date #1 and Counting


Well, my dear readers, April 7 has come and gone and I am not yet Mareshet's mother.  We did not pass court today because AAI has a new lawyer and unfortunately, the Power of Attorney papers I originally signed have the previous lawyer's name on them.  The judge would not proceed without the new POA, which is fortunately on it's way to Ethiopia.  If God allows, we will have a second court date 10 or more days from now.  I'm just praying for a quick resolution. After all, there should be nothing preventing us from passing, unless the Ministry paperwork is not submitted on time (which for no reason other than this is the method to the madness, it cannot be completed until after the POA arrives.)  I did have some warning last week that the cases in our Court Group would likely not pass.  I therefore got most of my bumming done over the weekend.  And, this does give me more time to gather the supplies-- see below for the Wish List.
Yesterday as luck would have it I ran into a friend of my former husband.  He and his wife are from Ethiopia and we often run into one another at the park.  He told me that they are expecting and after the usual and customary exclamations, it led into my telling him about Mareshet.  I am always a little tentative about telling Ethiopian friends about the adoption, recognizing that adoption is a little bit imperialistic even under the best circumstances. However, he was immediately encouraging, and exclaimed over Mareshet's picture: "she's so cute!"  With a great deal of pain in his voice, he recounted how, on his last trip to Addis, he saw a young girl carrying an infant (a sister? daughter?), asking for birr from motorists.  He said, "As soon as we drove off, I regretted not asking her if she had a family.  I still think about her, I can see her face so clearly, and I just wish I had been able to take her out of there."  We spoke a bit about how vulnerable kids are who lose parents, and then he gave me his cell phone number so that I could call him as soon as Mareshet comes.  I felt so grateful for his acceptance ("she's from my old neighborhood!") and I left the park feeling lighter in spirit.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Wish List!


My dear colleagues in the social work department have offered to host a "shower" for the kids at Mareshet's orphanage! Please consider purchasing something from the list below, or toss me a few bones and I'll make sure they go to purchase the most needed items. Right now, money for food and infant formula is critically needed. One of the world's poorest countries, Ethiopia is facing food and fuel scarcity, driving up the cost for our nonprofit orphanage for basics like grain, milk, vegetables, and electricity. My daughter is one of the kids that benefit directly from your contributions! Check out their website for more ways to help: www.ahopeforchildren.org

Fundraising Wish List for AHOPE Orphanage
An * indicates the wish is fulfilled

$200.00 for food * P., you rock!
$75.00 for one case of infant formula *
$50.00 for airplane weight charges
$375.00 for a pulse oximeter

Cloth diapers (traditional rectangular cotton)
Safety pins
Plastic diaper covers
Inexpensive terry bibs
Stethoscope *
Infant scale *
Adult scale
Otoscope
Blood pressure cuffs infant, child, adult sizes
NG tubes Pediatric #6, #8
2 tubes Anti-itching cream (e.g.. 1% hydrocortizone) *
2 tubes clotrimazole *
Lice treatment, Ketokonazole Shampoo
Feminine hygiene pads
Cefalexin 250mg and 500 mg capsule and syrup
Cloacillin 250mg capsule and syrup
Cotton balls
10 boxes Sterile gloves
Roll Bandage and sterile cottons
Nystatin suspension (oral preparation)
Nystatin and Triamcinolone Acetonid cream
Spatula (Tongue depressor for throat examination)
Rubber sheets (disposable)
Pepcid (Famotidine) antiacid tablet 20mg
Perimethrin cream 50% (for scabies)
Pediatric Nasogastric tube No. 6 & 8
HEXIT-Lotion (Lindane lotion1%usp) for scabies and poison

Athletic running shoes for children of all ages (2-14 years)
Croc style shoes (all sizes)
Socks (8-15 yrs)

Outdoor Play Equipment, (balls must deflate for packing):
Soccer Balls/Basketballs/volleyballs/bouncy balls/
Jump ropes/double dutch ropes *
Tennis balls/hackey sacs/pickleball paddles
Rocket balloons *
Hand held ball pump

Art/Craft supplies including:
Children's Diary
Pencil Sharpener *
Rulers *
Paints/Brushes/Finger Paints
Stickers
Crocheting/knitting needles and Yarn
Fabric/Needles/Thread
Cross-Stitch Kits
Markers 
Art foam/Pipe Cleaners/googly eyes/feathers/pompoms *
Glitter glue *
Beads/Beading wire
Pastels
Tissue paper/Feathers
Stencils
Stamps/Stamp pads

If someone has a large duffel with wheels, I would love to borrow it!
Should we raise more than two adults can carry on board, I can get supplies to other volunteers and staff who are travelling soon. THANK YOU!!!! from the Children of AHOPE!

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


The fact that it has been a month since my last post is evidence that time is passing... though it feels very slow.  I have been receiving small pieces of news about Mareshet from traveling parents, and sometimes pictures.  April 7th is looming ahead of me and yet I feel like my feet are in quicksand.  Having always been one to plan at least six months in advance, I can no longer see past April 7th.  I am as prepared as one can be for the disappointment of not passing court on the first try.  Yet I cannot see past this.  

I have really tried to focus on my last months as a parent to just N.  Never again will I have only one daughter, an only child, the apple of my eye!  I am reminded of those few sweet weeks I spent with her as a newborn, before returning to work, the sweat dripping down my back in the July heat, nursing in the rocking chair.  I knew those moments would never return, so I drank them in like honey.  I know these moments are the same, the last when she will have my attention undivided.  Yet despite all this concentration, a piece of me goes living and breathing in Ethiopia.  I sold my soul long ago to have two children, and regardless of what happens now, the act is done.  I am a mother of two daughters.  I feel for Mareshet and fret over her and imagine touching her forehead with my cheek.  I don't know this child and I don't know how I'll adapt to life with her and yet I feel like she is walking around with my heart in her hands every day.  There is divine intervention at play, as surely as gravity.  And I have heard that the same pull of the tides upon the ocean is the pull, however subtle, upon our blood.  We have spent our brief lives heading toward one another as if by gentle traction.  As one adoptive mother put it, "It turns out that he was the right child and I was the right parent."  I do not know where the meeting place will be or when, but it will be as if the intersection of our paths was always a certainty, shining in the distance like a star.

My best news and reassurance came the other week when a parent emailed our group and said "I have a picture of Mareshet, will her family please connect with me."  This was a woman I had not contacted before her trip to beg for a photo, a foot tracing, or to carry a letter.  This was a mother that Mareshet had  ostensibly approached while she was there to pick up her own child, in the hope of communicating with me.  I felt my heart lift and fly around the room.  There is someone on the other end of the tread, tugging back.  Mareshet found a way to tell me so.

These days before Mareshet arrives I think about children to come.  Are there others?  Will I ever again feel the sparrow kick from within that announces "Somebody is here"?   Or will I have the privilege of taking up another mother's child, when her arms no longer hold and comfort?  I know that the answers are not for me to know right now, but I cannot help asking... Mareshet is proof that I am responding to a call.  Hers?  Mine?  Allah's?  No matter.  If there is a call and a response, I take this as evidence that universe may more in store for me yet.  I wait in anticipation, though my imagination does not reach that far.  It does not go beyond April 7th.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Third Trimester or Something Like It

Deepest apologies for not updating this blog in a while.  I hit an impatient spell in January where it felt like word from my agency was very slow in coming.  For the longest time, I had no court date (now I know it is April 7).  I kept checking my email for notice that the Welcome Bag had been delivered, to no avail.  One mother graciously offered to take photos of M. for me when she traveled, but instead of making me feel relaxed and optimistic, it only served to make me more of an email fiend.  Bless her heart, she has since returned with a gorgeous photo of my sweetie (who by the way looks much older than six) and the following day, I received news that the Welcome Bag had finally been delivered!  I wish I could post a picture, but you'll have to email me for one.  Mareshet has giant doe eyes, chocolate skin, and circlets of short curls atop her head.  She has long fingers and a rather flat nose, which I love.  Visiting parents all tell me the same things: that she is friendly and very patient with smaller kids, incredibly active and involved in the orphanage goings on.  She now has pictures of us and can begin to imagine life with a family.  I also have sent two letters in addition to the Welcome Bag letter.  One should reach her this week, and the other next week, with the aid of our "Ethiopia Express."  I can't wait until it is my turn to offer to take photos and letters to waiting children.  It is amazingly difficult to know what to put into a letter.  I repeat some themes, in case the person helping her read the English tries to gloss over parts of it.  I keep saying how much we look forward to getting to know her, how beautiful the Pacific Northwest is, and that I am ready to take care of her like any Mama takes care of her daughter.  I write about N. and send new pictures of her.  I try to describe what the seasons are like, and what we do at different times of year.  I wonder how much of it is actually translated for her, and whether she can read any of the words herself.  I do put a tracing of my hand on every letter, because more than words can say, my hand is outstretched and waiting... and I can't wait to feel her little hand in mine.

Many have asked me about the timeline so far, so I will attempt to summarize this briefly, here: 
6/08  Made up my mind to adopt.
8/14/08 Mailed the initial application to AAI
9/22/08 Completed the subsequent packet of required information for AAI
9/25/08 AAIs response-- another packet to read
10/6  Received (yet another) packet with Dossier instructions
10/22  Schedule 1st Homestudy Interview
11/9  Second Homestudy Interview
11/24  Sent completed Dossier to AAI
11/26 Dossier received!  I start inquiring about waiting children.
12/4 Homestudy Approved!  I immediately ask for the file on Mareshet.
12/11  I commit to adopting Mareshet!  My Dossier travels to Ethiopia.
1/5  Welcome Bag received at AAI.
1/6  My documents are submitted to court with several other families and we are henceforth referred to as "Group G."
1/26  I am finally given a court date of April 7.
1/27  I receive confirmation that my Orphan Petition (I600A) has been approved by the US.
1/28 Welcome Bag travels over to Ethiopia with our director
2/2  I go to the USCIS office to be fingerprinted
2/8  I receive the first photos of Mareshet from other parents (thank you Allie and Kari!)
2/9 I receive the news that Mareshet has received her Welcome Bag--and a photo!
2/16 I finish painting her room; her bed comes next week.  This is starting to feel real.  Still trying to complete the final visa paperwork however...

Ironically enough, when typed up in this way, it doesn't seem like this has taken that long at all.  Except that about 12 of my friends have had babies since I began this process, making it all feel so much longer...