time for updates

Well, the past several months have flown by. I can now report that we have not one but two little girls headed our way. Hanan, 6, and Danawit, 11. Our case was filed in Ethiopian court on Aug 26th. So now we wait for courts to begin viewing cases in October. Our house is in total disarray, as new windows were installed. Long term, this will be great for energy use but in the short term, everything had to be moved out of the way in my room. And my room is where things tend to accumulate, from rosters to maps, to lists of school supplies, photos, and letters I can't bear to toss. So the focus for the next few weeks is cleaning, reducing clutter, and getting this little house ready for two more girls!

Winter Weariness

In the past few weeks, I've been working extra shifts as a way of saving for the adoption. I also continue to co-facilitate a bereavement group for parents who have lost infants. I am busy at work and overdue for writing the newsletter for Open Arms. I have been working out twice a week, which often leaves me overstimulated and sleepless. It isn't really any wonder that I feel run down. However, it is frustrating to know I could be far more productive, if only my body was better rested. My house looks like it is run by Muppets. This despite many hours of cleaning I put in over the weekend. While I accomplished things like sorting out all the clothes and boxing lots of things the girls have outgrown (Nur is now the size Mareshet was when she arrived!) these tasks are largely invisible or contributed to the clutter of the hallway. The girls sorted through their stuffed animals and made two bags of toys to give away, either to the "new girl" or other kids. I dutifully made two dozen cupcakes for the celebration at the Ethiopian Cultural Center, and cleaned up. However, that did nothing for the overall State of my kitchen. I suppose I just heave a big sigh, and set out on another Monday, in the hopes my blues will lift. The one household innovation I can look at with pride is the creation of a communication board in the kitchen. Here it is, as evidence that I have not been slacking too hard.

Blue Marble

I am sitting with a cup of tea and a house so silent I can hear the bunnies chewing. Yesterday I dropped the girls off with my mother, after meeting her halfway. They will spend a couple of days with her for the school break. I am thankful for the child-less time, as it gave the the chance to stay up until 2am at a Somali wedding last night, sleep in until 12:30pm today, and muck out the chicken coops and other dreaded chores. My yard labors treated me to an amazing view of a golden, full moon rising.

Seeing the moon's face reminded me of an interview I heard on NPR with a Muslima astronaut, Anousheh Ansari. She said that the greatest moment of her space travel was looking at Earth, shining and blue. What's amazing is that almost every astronaut will give the same answer... something about seeing Earth from a distance provides context for how small and precious and fragile we all are.

Today, looking at the moon, I am reminded of this and wonder at my life. I rush around all day, cleaning, typing, working... and in the big picture it means nothing. I marvel that I am conscious, and that my love for my children can be so deep. It is so implausible that my body lives and works to love them, and meanwhile the cosmos is indifferent to this love. Most of the time, I feel like my labors are fruitful-- something about looking over to the moon makes me realize I cannot take myself so seriously.

A Day in the Life

Monday: I took the day off so I could help in the kindergarten classroom. Witnessed 60 kids pounding nails into wood with gusto. Had lunch in the cafeteria with Nur. Noted all the staff I should make cupcakes for. Ducked out before recess, fed chickens, loaded some laundry, went to Costco to buy the doll for $19.99 that is identical in every way to the one Mareshet wants that is $95. Stashed it in the back of my closet to wrap for her birthday. Booked ice skating party, and ordered invitations online. Tried to figure out eBay; gave up. Did two more loads of laundry. Went to Target, bought paper bags, art supplies for holiday gifts. Realized I had to get back to pick up kids. Took them to ballet. Stalked my doctor's office for news of the adoption referral letter. Left a thank-you gift in the hopes it will grease the letter along. Picked up some books for emerging readers. Took kids to U bookstore, desperately seeking the"right" 2011 planner. Bumped into my student; realized I haven't done her evaluation yet. Drove home the long way to see the lights on Candycane Lane and the "crazy" bedecked house by the mosque. Got lost. Arrived home to make fish sticks. Helped kids distracted by glitter glue to focus on homework. Brushed three sets of teeth. Listened to new stories read by both girls. Yelled at them to stop whispering and go to sleep. Cleaned rabbit cage and went outside in dark to put the chickens in the coop. Went through my receipts. Found a lost doll shoe. Realized my bed wasn't made. Reluctantly dredged my sheets out of the dryer, made my only Salat prayer of the day, and crashed into bed.

A Child Waits

World AIDS Day Dinner

Please join us on Dec 1, World AIDS Day, for a dinner celebrating the lives of loved ones lost to HIV disease, AND the joy of a possible adoption. For every HIV positive child adopted, another one can other one can take her place and receive lifesaving treatment. We are hoping to bring home another little girl in 2011, and you can be part of it. Drop in between 5:30 and 8:30pm, Wednesday Dec 1, for a delicious Ethiopian feast. We are your hostesses, as you sample an assortment of meat or veggie dishes straight from Ethiopia. Assimba restaurant is located at the corner of MLK and Cherry St. (2722 E Cherry St, Seattle 98122). Bring your family and friends. Whatever we collect at the end of the night pays for dinner and with any luck... plane tickets. Pick up a red ribbon, sign a card to your legislator, or just groove to the Ethiopian music. Can't wait to see you!

Truth Pandemic

Truth Pandemic

Autumn Days

I am having a hard time adapting to the end of Daylight Savings this year. I feel totally confused. I also have been outrageously overbooked, so before I really wake up, the day is ending again. Combined with my ongoing battle to eradicate headlice in a certain child, leads to some pretty severe sleep deprivation. This can only contribute to the sensation of being a record played at the wrong RPM. I feel like my life is flashing in front of my eyes, and my kids are embodied evidence of this. They have totally left babyhood behind, and I fear that their childhood is also slipping quickly away. I feel a combination of pride and loss with each new thing the girls can do. Nur is just beginning to read now, and has many sight words memorized. She loves to write notes about what she did that day. "daly news. we wnt pe. we had lunch. we had free choise." Mareshet is developing all sorts of competencies. She has also become well known in the local bookstores, often stepping behind the computer to check whether or not books are still in print, and make recommendations. I find that the owners of our local independent stores do order the books she endorses, as they later appear on the shelves with some prominence. I try to be so mindful of the moments we have together, and to enjoy them. Of all my life, I believe that my memories are most clear in my seven to eight year old years. So it is really something to be doing things with them that I so clearly recall doing back in the day. Like playing Uncle Wiggly and Old Maid. Raking leaves. Drinking cocoa.

Last evening I had a wonderful evening out, with two other moms, at a divine little restaurant. My friend Susan gave me a gift certificate to Tilth, in Seattle's Wallingford neighborhood. It was a blissful evening with lovely friends and possibly the most amazing food ever. I had pumpkin soup that smelled like the essence of autumn. Then salmon over spaghetti squash and under delicate mushrooms. And chocolate torte for dessert with cocoa from Theo chocolate. I don't know if I will dine in such splendor again. But it will make a lovely memory.

Tragedy Strikes Coop

Early Tuesday morning, a sad fate befell our two favorite hens, Daisy and Peaches. A whiskered intruder, probably a raccoon, made a meal of them. The surviving chicken, Sharpay, was distraught and missing a tail. Needless to say, I will be locking her into a safer coop each night, with our teenager, Amelia Bedelia. Of the 12 chicks shipped, 11 remain, one having been incurably injured.

In other news, Mareshet participated in the local high school cheer squad at a football game last Friday. Nur and I enjoyed the marching band, hot dogs, and watching Mareshet shake it with real pom poms. She has some moves! I don't remember much about football, but I'm guessing that dropping the ball with one foot to go to the end zone is not cool. I felt bad for the kid, particularly given that he was on our home team.

Finally, we all spent Saturday on Bainbridge Island, as part of the Open Arms Perinatal Services strategic planning retreat. I really enjoyed getting to know the staff and new Board members better, and I think we agree that our mission and vision are hard to improve upon. We will tweak a few words but the passion for creating a world that really honors and protects the birthing woman and her family, is one that is still strong. For more information, or to to participate in our annual auction, go to www. openarmsps.org. I love that all of our kids are friends (the Adjunct Board) and got to play together at the children's museum and on the ferry ride. We are really blessed to be part of such a community.

Best Adoption Books

Saturday we went to hear Seattle Women's Chorus sing all about families of every persuasion. They used video clips from Rosie O'Donnell's documentary about families, including a beautiful lesbian wedding that involved their two sons, and clips of kids talking about what families are. Basically I cried through the whole thing. Then we all, including two other single moms and their adopted kids, went out for Ethiopian food. Lately we have been talking about adoption a lot, and fortunately there have been natural opportunities to talk about Mareshet's birth mother and father, and her earliest memories. She can remember an older sister as well, who went to live with another relative. I think constantly about returning to Ethiopia to find more relations. All this prompted me to blog about our family's top 5 adoption books for kids. These are basically great for older children who remember finding their forever family, and life in their family of origin. First on our list (10 out of 10 according to Mareshet) is Star of the Week: A Story of Love, Adoption and Brownies with Sprinkles, by Darlene Friedman and Roger Roth. It is the story of their daughter's adoption from China as an infant, and how she decides to tell about herself when she is Star of the Week in kindergarten. Mareshet took this book to class when she was Star of the Week last year. With its colorful illustrations and straightforward language, it can help an older child with some of those questions that are sure to arise in school. I hear it is going out of print, so grab some copies quickly! Second place goes to The Best Family in the World, by Susana Lopez. This story is about little Carolta's dreaming for a family-- the most exciting family ever. Will they be tiger trainers, pastry chefs, astronauts? Find out how Carlota's dreams come true in this new book. Third place is Yaffi's Family, by Linda Pettit. Just off the press, this book with beautiful watercolor illustrations, touches on the grief adoptive kids feel at leaving family, friends, and caregivers, even as they find love in a new forever family. It speaks also to the openness of the adoptive family in honoring and loving a child's birth family. You can get this one at amharickids.com. I have always loved Stallaluna, by Janell Cannon, one of the best books in exploring culture shock. Little Stellaluna the fruit bat baby is separated from her mother and taken in by a bird family. She learns that her ways are not welcomed by mother bird, and learns to adapt to fit in and get her basic needs met. Eventually she is reunited with her birth mother, and she learns how her special adaptations make sense in bat culture. Finally, we recommend God Found Us You, by Lisa Tawn Bergren. When Nur was born, I found another book by the author about how a baby comes into a bear family by birth. I always wished that she's write one about adoption-- and luck for us, she did! Baby fox doesn't look like his adoptive mother, but she reassures him that they were made for each other. She explains how much his birth mother cared for him by finding him a forever family. It is a very cute book and I am partial to it because the Mama Fox is likely a single mom. Mareshet and Nur often ask for each of "their" books to be read before bedtime. By the way, the girls think that we should do a Top 5 Ethiopian stories blog sometime. So stay tuned.

Corn Maze

This past weekend we, together with friends D. and his son R., went to a corn maze. It was a lot of fun, with the cornfield in the shape of Washington State, the barn kittens, the hay bale maze complete with slide, duck races, and pig show. I liked seeing the baby alpaca and all the rabbits, and the hay ride was fun too. But the best part was getting to hang out with this amazing pair of dudes. All together, we posed as a family unit for the purposes of entering under a single ticket. We were: joined together by birth, adoption and fostering, from Jewish, Muslim, and Ethiopian Orthodox Church heritages, gay and straight, and a passel of ethnicities all rolled into a single family for the day. How cool to recognize the many currents that brought us together, world over.

New chicks!

Enjoy this video clip of our 12 beautiful new babies, which arrived yesterday. The darker ones (that look like chipmunks) are Welsumers, a "chocolate" egg layer. The yellow ones are Red Star, which are also a friendly, backyard-friendly bird. While it is quite frowned upon to do any kind of fundraising for adoption by the Ethiopian government, and this is not a blog that will bandy about the f-word... if you would like a beautiful hen for the backyard garden that lays rich brown eggs, we'll give you one in the spring and thank you in advance for supporting our adoption! I received word yesterday that there are many new kids who came into care in the kindergarten age range. I am going to redouble my efforts to get my Dossier complete in the hopes that one of these little girls is a match for us. I also can't stop thinking about a little girl from AHOPE named D. She is about eleven at this point. I know that she was really trying to win me over while I was there, sidling up to me for hugs, and quietly a presence. But it worked! She is definitely unforgettable. Earlier in the year I emailed to see if she already had a family and I never really got a complete answer. But she is still on the list of waiting kids, so I presume that I could ask to see her file as well. It's really interesting to hear the girls talk about adopting again. You would almost think that "the new girl" as they call her, is already here.

Harvest

I love this time of year. When straw-stuffed scarecrows are propped in gardens, when bushels of apples are pressed into cider, and pumpkins line porches. We harvested our potatoes, beets, and tomatoes. Surprisingly, we are still getting the odd strawberry. Each morning our hen Daisy leaves us a perfect, cafe-au-lait egg. The other two hens, now plumped up, should be ready to lay soon. The air is more crisp, and it feels good to pull a wool blanket up to my cheeks each night. Last weekend, we were in Walla Walla which is a perfect place to celebrate harvest. We drove out to Klickers to look at the antiques and peaches. Our friend Clare loaded us up with zucchini bread and tomatos. Yum! And the Henckels plied us with blueberry pancakes and turkey sausages, then the Hoffs with turkey burgers and homemade fries. Seriously, I have some great friends!

It all made up for the week of drama following an infestation of lice. Poor Mareshet was sobbing as I combed through all those curls again and again. She always had her hair close cropped at the orphanage, in the event of lice, though she said she never had them in Ethioipa. She has desperately wanted to grow it long ever since we came home, and a year later it falls in ringlets to her shoulders. I couldn't cut that hair, not for a thousand dollars. So it was up nights until two am, combing. I kept scratching the imaginary bus on my body for another 10 days. I'm finally free from the PTSD, and hope to never go there again.

Today I've realized that the past year has not ben very conducive to physical fitness. The hardest part about single parenting is that I can't just go for a run or spend time swimming laps like I used to. I never have anyone to watch the kids and I don't have extra hours of child care to allow me to squeeze in a workout after work. So today we went to the gorgeous new Y and signed up. I love the Y for their Family Camp, which we attended this summer. I love the gleaming new pool. Best of all, I love the single parent family rate. While it's not like I have extra nickels, I feel okay about signing up because women in my family live to be nearly 100. I figure, I'm not yet 35. I have a WAYS to go yet, God WIlling. I don't mind a little plush, but I think that I need to keep my ticker in top shape. The Y has a child care facility, it has swim lessons. I am going to try to get myself moving, and my kids can have fun too. They are old enough to be in the same space together, and perhaps this will help with separations. Wish me luck- I have about fifteen pounds of post-adoption, post-divorce, post-pregnancy (five years ago) weight to shake off.

Welcome Back

This is a new edition of my blog, which will hopefully be updated once a week with recipes, poems, deep thoughts, parenting moments, book recommendations, comics, photos, breaking news, and updates on my foray into another adoption. If you're reading this post, you have been invited to be part of it all.

It has been a year since Mareshet came home. I wish I could say that I have met all of her challenging moments with grace, but I can say that I met them head-on, with good intentions, and mostly did a good job. There are a few moments that I wish I could erase. I have also become expert in "just try me" threats. "Keep it up Mareshet, and just see whether I drop what I'm doing later to take you to that birthday party." However, most of the time, I aspire to the coolheadedness in Love and Logic and if I can't drum it up, my sense of humor usually leaves me in good stead. I have no problem throwing myself under the wagon if that's what it takes, and usually both of my kids end up laughing when I can recall something stupid I did or said as a kid their age, or something stupid I did today. One of our favorite books is by Judith Voight. It is called ... Sometimes Even Mamas Make Mistakes. That is now our credo. If I meet that woman, I am going to kiss her, because no manner of parenting expertise can ever be as reassuring to a child as a parent admitting that, "maybe you had a hand in this, but so did I... and sometimes even Mama makes mistakes." The other standing joke in our house is that I am Queen of this household, under God only in terms of power in our universe. Mareshet asked, wouldn't the President fit between God and I (picture innocent face and mocking tone). I cleared up her confusion right away. The President would be asked to take off his shoes when coming over, just like anyone else. It goes God, Mom, Grandma, the President, your Teacher, other people's parents, babysitters, and eventually down to you. Kids are the bosses of precious little, but they are the boss of their rooms and their toys and our rabbits. The rabbits boss the chickens, and the chickens boss the bugs. That is the Natural Order and for the most part, it is respected when I can rehearse it rapidly in a very convincing tone of voice.

Looking back, it feels good to have banked a year in the life of a kid who needed a family. Frankly, she couldn't have scored better in terms of moms, which I say now because there are plenty of times that is not the first thought running through my head. It is only after some contemplation that I realize this is a fact. For whatever reason, we are in a place where it is papatable to consider trying this adoption thing again. The girls and I took a vote: it was unanimous. We have enough to go around and anyone would be lucky to have us. So, wherever you are kid, welcome to Family Movie Night with popcorn and hot cocoa. Welcome to camping. Welcome to Your Turn to Fold the Laundry. Welcome to our awesome elementary school and to riding bikes and to digging for potatoes. Welcome to Grandma coming over with cupcakes and Waffle Saturday. We're expecting you!

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.

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.

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.