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.

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?  

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.     

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.

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.  

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.

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.