From Dragons to Snakes

It's been a while since I have picked up the "pen" on this blog, especially since Allison has done such a brilliant job keeping things honest and up-to-date.

Still I am inspired to write something.  I thought I could pull together some beautiful and eloquent story about the Year of the Dragon we just left and the Year of the Snake we are starting... but fact is I know nothing about that or what that really means.  Best I can tell, it means last year was huge, crazy and maybe involved some sort of fire-breathing monster.  And, we are about to charge into a slippery, slimy year ahead that is both powerful and potentially venomous.  Yup, sounds about right.  You can put all your lunar calendars away now...

Seriously, that sounds about right.

The Dragon.  Family of three.  Traveled for work like crazy first half of the year.  Engaged our lovely community in Charleston.  Divested from IBM after 10 years.  Acquired by Toshiba, new job and exciting work underway.  Decided to sell Charleston house (sold to an Ethiopian man).  Take Kysa out of her inspiring little Montessori school.  Decided to move to Raleigh; another amazing connection to get us into our current home.  Family dynamics.  Put Kysa in new school (remove immediately).  Put Kysa in new Montessori school (thrilled).  Waited for referral, "it will never come".  It came. Rushed to Ethiopia.  Saw our son.  Wait.    Holidays.  Major work announcements.  Returned to Ethiopia.  Got our son.  Family of four.  End Dragon.

The Snake.  Breathe.  Let's do that again.  Breathe.  Ok, now what?  It's 10pm on a Sunday night.  We got through this weekend... pretty well actually.  Some cleaning, time with friends, a parade, shopping.  We all ate.  We all took at least one shower or bath (but I won't share the less than clean events that accompanied that this evening).  We all laughed a little.  Some of us cried (no names).  We read books and danced to Gene Kelley while twirling an  umbrella in the kitchen.  We slept.... some, but in very strange configurations and in some sort of unscripted non-musical beds routine.  We struggle, but we are lucky.  We love, but we are challenged.  We are.  Figuring it out.  One day.  At a time.

It has been just over 3 weeks since we first picked up Wynray and took him out of the Care Center.  Sure feels a lot longer than that.  In a really really good way.  In a really really hard way.  Here is what I know.

My son is amazing.  I am in awe of him, I love him unconditionally in such a short period.  It is clear he has always been met by LOVE in life, it is all he expects from people.  I hope to make sure he gets as much of that from us and those around him as possible.  I hope he grows old and wise enough to expect it but also recognize when it is not there so he doesn't get hurt.  Each day our bond grows.  Tonight I swear he was saying 'dada' but I'm not in denial that this is a pretty common sound that's easy to make.  Still, I'm sure he meant it.  He drives me nuts at times, sure... but that's a lot about me not him.  While clearly he is adjusting to me, I'm very much still adjusting to him.  Above all, what I love is the life, the love, the passion, the determination, the will, and the curiosity that penetrates from his eyes.  My greatest goal as his Father is to raise him never to lose that.  This is my measure for success.

My daughter is my jewel.  I am so in love and so proud of her.  Before I go on with that thread, it should be mentioned that she is also driving us up the wall and filling us with the crazies too.  After getting our full attention for about 2.5 years she has even more adjusting to do.  I believe she is wise beyond her years, but there are days where I must remind myself she is not even 3 and yet is being asked to adapt and adjust so much over the last few months only to have our little stick of 10 month old dynamite thrown into the mix.  She is a doing so great all things considered, but she can test our limits that is for sure.  But that also says a lot about me.  My patience, my ability to teach, to be heard, to comfort, to guide.  My greatest goal as her Father is to raise her to stay so inspired, creative, wise, and caring through her life.  This is my measure for success.

So what does this "snake" year bring?  The beauty is that we don't know.  We will learn.  Grow.  Slip.  Get up.  Learn some more.  Listen.  Love.  Forgive.  Teach.  Dance.  Fall.  Get up again.  Sing.  Inspire.  Create.  Look.  At least I know I have their amazing Mom by my side, a wife with a heart of gold.

Beyond our family core, I think daily about Ethiopia as I wrote on Facebook the day we left on January 24, 2012:

"Thank you to all people who have not only made our stay special but more importantly all those who have raised and lovingly cared for our son. We will hold the moments from here close to our hearts, continue to do small and good things to support your beautiful people and look forward to our return one day. It is time for Wynray to leave you but never forget where he came from. God bless this place. Selam"

We were also blessed to get to know a few people very specifically.  Fekadu, a kind friend who made us feel so at home in the bustling city of Addis, and his extended family.  The directors and children at the Ajuuja Care Center in Awassa who are so deserving and in need of all our thoughts, prayers, blessings and donations.  The directors, staff and children at the IAN Care Center in Addis where Wynray spent his last couple of months.  What a special place and the children have made a lasting impression on me.  I cannot wait to see how you grow over the next year and all the fun and great things you'll accomplish.  Finally, to Wynray's birth father and family in the Gambella region... not ever distant in our thoughts and prayers.  I cannot wait to see how we will stay connected and inspired by these people and so many others over the next year.

So bring it on snake.

The Snake "Ancient Chinese wisdom says a Snake in the house is a good omen because it means your family will not starve."

No chance of that literally or figuratively.  Here's to a year that enriches our family collectively and each of us individually as we strive to settle into our new normal (which I can guarantee you isn't any kind of normal 'normal').

Happy Chinese New Year!

/ fredrik

No one said it would be easy...

Wynray has been in our arms for 24 days, and home 17 days.  These last 17 days have been beautiful, exhausting, humbling, frustrating, hilarious, and well, hard.

After two years of blogging about this process, I'd love to be able to report that the birds sing arias every morning especially for our family as we hold hands and all skip to breakfast, that Kysa is devoted to her brother by sharing unselfishly of her toys and her parents, and that Fredrik and I are energized by the lack of sleep and are now communicating telepathically.

But the reality is that we are in survival mode. Instead of arias, Wynray generally wakes us with lion roars, but at least the lion roars are now on US time and not African time. Kysa has staked her claim on everything in our home from dust bunnies to my leg with the famous call of the almost 3 yr old: "MINE!!" Fredrik and I are walking zombies who grunt and point. And if we can string more than three words together it's like trying to have a conversation at a rock concert. "HUH??" WHAT?? Tell me later...I can't understand a word you're saying."

Shamefully, I've had to call Fredrik to come home from work because Kysa NEEDS a parent and I can't put down the baby. I'm not sure my heart has ever hurt so badly to hear my daughter screaming PUT DOWN THE BABY AND HOLD MEEEE!!!  It kills me to see how she feels betrayed, shut out, set aside. Telling her, "there is always room for you in my lap," doesn't really work unless there actually is room for her on my lap.

But then there are moments that show up out of nowhere, like being able to put off the walk I had planned because Kysa has spontaneously decided to perform her Lonely Goatherd dance from the Sound of Music for Wynray and they are both cracking each other up. Or the calm after the emotional storms when Kysa and Wynray (and I) are spent from crying can snuggle together and our bodies can relax into a heap of familial limbs, and we all just surrender to being together for a minute or two.

Both my kids have experienced so much transition and change in the last few months. I think about what it's like for a big sister to have a newborn baby come home, and the period of time they usually get to adjust with their little sibling in the blob stage. Wynray came home full, wild, active and taking up lots of physical and emotional space. Kysa is doing great, though her coping mechanisms are a little less than charming, and Wynray continues to be the happiest baby on the planet, though he is now surviving us.

Wynray has most certainly decided he wants to be a part of this family and he's not letting any of us out of his sight for long. And while my heart aches for my sweet girl, it also aches for the losses Wynray has suffered in his short life. I feel it in the middle of the night when he wakes in a panic and desperately clutches my neck, and then slams his head against my chest. He is still the happiest baby on the planet, but he's beginning to let me see some of his fears, and I'm eager to hold them so he can get on with the business of just being a baby.

We're all adjusting and stepping into our roles as parents, siblings, sons and daughters a little more fully each day. It's not easy that's for sure, and most of the time I'm pretty sure I'm screwing up big time. But nothing easy is worth doing, right?

Spiraling

I've started two or three blog posts late at night after I've gotten Wynray back to sleep as he acclimates to our time zone. Now that we have a baby in the house, completing my thoughts seem like a luxury. I've had many inquiries about whether or not I'll continue to write about our journey now that Wynray is home. The answer is yes, though it just might be a bit tricky at first as we're all adjusting to life as a family of four, and getting ourselves back on this time zone.

We've now spent five nights at home. While Wynray isn't sleeping all night, he's at least sleeping during night time hours, as opposed to a 1am playtime that lasted until 3:30am for the first three nights at home. We're all really tired, but happy. Really really happy.

Kysa and Wynray are doing beautifully together. She thinks he's pretty hysterical despite the fact he has a superhuman grasp that can remove a handful of hair from your head in 2 seconds flat. Wynray simply thinks Kysa hung the moon, and is the most interesting creature on the planet. A nightly sibling bath time has proven to be a great bonding tool, and may be the cutest thing I've ever witnessed.

Wynray is amazing. The word amazing is generally over used, but in this case it's appropriate. He's so sweet, and simply lights up from the inside. He's strong and resilient, but at the same time he's allowing himself to begin to need us. He doesn't like it when we walk out of the room, and the baby boy who preferred to be put to bed alone with his bottle the first few nights with us now needs to be snuggled to sleep. I sometimes have to pinch myself that he's sitting in my kitchen, not his picture on my computer in my kitchen. Wynray is in my kitchen. Wynray is crawling down the hallway. Wynray is pulling my hair. Wynray is home. He's finally home.

We've survived the first pediatrician appointment and the collection of poop and drawing of blood. At some point there might be a blog post about how bitterly disappointed I was in our nurse and pediatrician and their (in)sensitivity to adoption. The doctor did say Wynray is the healthiest adopted child he's ever examined, but with the advice he gave, maybe he's only seen two adopted children in his career. "Crying it out" for a baby who has lost a birth parent to illness, and who has been in two care centers before nine months. Seriously? I'll get on that soap box another time...

I've also wanted to recap our time in Ethiopia post the trip to Awassa, but the time has just eluded me, or sleep is eluding me, or I just haven't figured out how to manage my time with two kids...

One thing I did want to highlight, is a big full circle moment. THE big full circle moment. Some of you might remember a post I wrote called Remembering the Visitor about a milestone in our decision to adopt. Basically, on Obama's first inauguration day I learned that I was loosing a pregnancy. I spent the day alone and in deep grief and reflection. It was on Obama's first inauguration day that I clearly made the decision to adopt (Fredrik wasn't too far behind). I understood then I didn't care how I became a mother, I just wanted to be one. If it hadn't been for the little visitor who came into our life for a brief but powerful period of time, I'm not sure we would have considered adoption. My prayer at that time became, "Please let me learn the lessons I'm suppose to learn so I can be a mother."

Fast-forward four years exactly, Fredrik, Wynray and I are sitting in a hotel in Addis Ababa alternating channels between Obama's 2nd inauguration and Ethiopia playing Zambia in the African Cup. I'm wondering where Aretha Franklin and her hat might be, and Fredrik is yelling about a penalty kick. Wynray is just happy to be there. Ethiopia had qualified for the first time in 31 years and the air in Ethiopia was electric. The crippling grief I had felt four years ago had been replaced with boundless joy, and the happiest baby I've ever met. No longer was I at home hiding under the covers, but I was in ETHIOPIA with our son. Our biological daughter, Kysa,was safe and sound back home and we were missing her like crazy. It was also Martin Luther King Day, and my heart felt swollen with the auspiciousness of the timing. My Facebook status update on that day read:

I can't stop thinking about this quote today: "I have a dream that one day little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers." MLK

I'm not sure if the first long and winding chapter of our adoption story could be tied up in a neater and more precise package. To all of my friends currently in the agonizing wait, please have faith and courage. Four years ago my heart was broken. I was broken. While part of me wanted to crawl under the covers and never come out, another part of me screamed to press on, to open my heart to possibility. The process of saying Yes! to adoption literally took four years to the day. It's been a wild ride. It has stalled and seemed in reverse at times. There were times I didn't think I could handle anymore waiting or heartache. This process has changed me in big huge and messy ways. It has broken me down and built me back up, and opened my eyes and heart to things that I cannot and will not forget.

Have faith my sweet waiting friends. Friends who are waiting for referrals, court dates, embassy appointments, or for life to just show you some clear direction. The timing is loopy, circuitous, frustrating, confusing, disheartening, and above all else...Divine.


"This seems to be the law of progress in everything we do; it moves along a spiral rather than a perpendicular; we seem to be actually going out of the way, and yet it turns out that we were really moving upward all the time." - Francis E. Willard

Trust me. It will be perfect. 

Photography credit: Danielle Anthony Photography

Blessed in Awassa

Day 2 - Ajuuja Care Center

A few months ago I selected a little boy named Zemene from a group of profile pictures of children needing a FIG (family in the gap). My friend, Charisa and her husband Greg, fellow Ethiopian adoptive parents, were steering an initiative called Project Hopeful Awassa. This initiative is so badly needed not only because of the great needs of the region, but because bureaucracy in this particular region has made it extremely difficult for adoptions to be completed. There are several families from our adoption agency who have had agonizing experiences being referred children from Awassa either to have their adoption process drag on and on indefinitely, or they were advised to accept the referral of another child from a different region because finalizing their present adoption wasn't likely with the child they were referred.

I selected Zemene about a month before we received Wynray's referral. We were very close to the top of the wait list, and we knew our son was out there waiting for us. Zemene's picture was of a tiny boy sitting alone on a bare floor wearing a huge downturned pout on his face. Something about his picture from all the other babies and children stole our hearts, and as it turns out, he and Wynray are about the same age. 

By becoming Zemene's FIG we agree to support him financially with $30 a month and to hold him in our thoughts and prayers until hopefully, the gap closes and he is able to find a forever family. It is a constant reminder to our family that even though we will be able to give our son a family, there are many children still needing a forever family. For some, a forever family may not be possible no matter how unfair that is.

As a FIG, we are also able to periodically send our child gifts and letters because Charisa and Greg are committed to making regular trips to Awassa to do relief work. Their adorable son, Teshale, was one of the last babies to be adopted from the Ajuuja care center in Awassa. Just a few weeks after we received Wynray's referral, we had the opportunity to send a small package to Zemene. 

Everything needed to fit into a gallon size zip lock bag. We went to Target with a bag to help gauge what we could send. At this point, we were in the midst of a two month wait for our court date and all I could think of were those two boys. One boy finding a home soon, the other one stuck indefinitely. 

I stood in the baby boy section of Target rolling up clothes to see how much I could fit in the bag and I paced the aisles looking for toys that would be comforting, stimulating, and durable. I became really emotional and frustrated for both boys. I just wanted to bring Wynray home, and I couldn't wrap my brain around Zemene possibly never having one. The line between Wynray and Zemene blurred a bit for me, it was impossible to decide who got what. Fredrik suggested we just buy several things and what we couldn't fit in the bag for Zemene we would just keep for Wynray. 

And then when we got home, I lost it a little bit...

That zip lock bag was too little. All I could fit were a pair of pajamas, a shirt, a pair of pants, some socks, a pacifier, a stuffed tiger, and a little car. I packed and repacked and busted several bags. It was not enough…it just wasn't enough. I wanted to do so much more. I wrote Zemene's name on everything because I wanted him to have things that belonged to him. And even if they were thrown in the community pile for others to use, they would still have Zemene's name in permanent marker.  

Just last week, a few days before our Embassy trip to bring Wynray home, I threw out a question to our Facebook adoption agency's support group. "We have 2-3 days in Ethiopia before our Embassy appointment, where should we go?" There were several great suggestions, but one that really struck a cord. Charissa posted, "You could go visit Zemene."  I knew in my heart that I wanted to go, it felt right. The only problem was we had our bags stuffed with donations for our son's care center, and I just could't show up in Awassa empty handed. So I asked Charissa what they needed. She suggested board books. So Kysa and I went to Barnes and Noble and bought 10 little books and I pulled some gently loved books from our own shelves. Then I packed the clothes we bought at Target that day a few months ago that Fredrik suggested could be for Wynray, but all along it appears they had been intended for Zemene. 

But it still didn't seem enough... 

The next morning my sister sent me an email asking if she could send money for donations. I said absolutely, and told her the easiest way was just to put some funds in our paypal account because a check wouldn't get to us in time. She surprised me by generously sending $100. With Keith Jarrett's Koln Concert (an album that always inspires) playing loudly in the kitchen, my fingers started typing words I hadn't really formed into thoughts. I simply asked friends and family both through email and Facebook to consider sending money so we could make a bigger impact on our trip to Awassa.  

And then, you all blew us away with your generosity. Within 24 hours there was $1,200 in our Paypal account ready to be used for donations and more kept trickling in and trickling in. Friends forwarded the email and shared my Facebook post. We received money from close friends and family as well as friends we haven't seen in years, former high school teachers, strangers like grandparents of adopted children who were some of the last kids to be adopted from Awassa, and from the grandparents of Wynray's BFF from the IAN care center. To see what your donations contributed, go to the bottom of this post.

On Saturday, having had Wynray in our keep for less than 24 hours, we drove four hours south of Addis Ababa and visited Zemene's care center. We arrived to meet Eyasu the director of the care center in Ajuuja and his sweet wife, who ushered us into a modest reception area with a sign that said "Well-Come" with pictures hanging below of our friends'  previous trip from back in the fall. We were then served traditional Ethiopian coffee and popcorn. Wynray was asleep in my arms. After a few minutes the director's wife disappeared and then reappeared with Zemene. It took a few seconds for me to soak it all in, but as I looked closer, he was wearing the clothes we had sent him and he was clutching his little stuffed tiger and car. That day in Target, I could never have imagined one day I would be holding my son in my arms, while putting a kiss on Zemene's cheek as he wears the clothes we had bought him half a world away when they were both just precious faces in a picture. Is this seriously happening?

Because of your donations and encouragement, friends, our hopes and wishes to do more were realized. Because of you, we were able to do so much more than the zip lock bag...

But we also realized immediately how important those zip lock bags were.

We spent about 2 hours at the care center taking pictures of the children so their FIGs back home could have updated photos of the kids they sponsor. We opened the boxes and handed the children the board books. The children loved the books, particularly a little 3 year old girl we'll call "H", who reminded us so very much of our Kysa back home. We then toured the compound. I was struck by three things: 1) How many tiny little babies there were 2) The genuine kindness of the staff, and 3) How very little they had. The Ajuuja care center houses 34 children under the age of 3 and supports over 100 children from the community as best they can….

Midway through the tour, they took us into their food storage room. It took me a minute to process that is was indeed the food storage room because there was no food in it. There were only a couple half opened sacks of flour on the floor next to an almost empty bottle of oil. They opened their refrigerator to show only two very wilted and rotting heads of cabbage. The director's wife was holding Wynray thankfully because my knees got weak. I turned my back to the group and covered my mouth with my hand as I fought hard to contain the sobs trying to escape. I didn't want to embarrass the sweet people who were devoting their lives to these children. The children who were accumulating in their care because they simply can't be adopted.

We continued through the compound to see an almost empty medicine cabinet and playroom and many more tiny babies crying in cribs. There was one little baby who appeared to be only a few days old, and certainly not even a healthy size for a newborn. I asked how old the baby was and they said 2 months....

I was having trouble processing it all. I took Wynray back in my arms and held him tightly….

Just when I thought I couldn't handle seeing anymore babies, they suggested we go shopping for cooking supplies. We loaded into our friend Fekadu's van, and we drove to a little grocery store with the director's wife and a couple social workers. They loaded carts full of what they thought was about 2 months of cooking supplies, food, soap, a few odds and ends and some treats for the kids.  There was a lot of hope and joy during that time in the grocery store and on the van ride back.

The care center in all their need and sadness is still somehow a proud and beautiful place. Saying our goodbyes, the staff showed us the trees in the courtyard were fruit trees: pomegranate, mango, avocado and even coffee. I asked if the coffee we drank came from their trees and they looked at me like "where else would they come from?" but simply said, "yes, of course!" I'm not sure why, but those trees gave me hope for the children of the Ajuuja care center. Some cool shelter, a little food, a sweet scent in the breeze…

Friends, we made a huge and unexpected impact. I don't think my words fully articulate the timeliness of these donations, and how badly they were needed. When I asked where their regular funding comes from, they said from families who have adopted from their care center in the past, and who continue to give them money, from Project Hopeful Awassa and the FIG program, a little from the Ethiopian government, and sometimes they get help from soldiers (though I"m not entirely sure what that means). 

Generally, most care centers survive from a portion of the adoption fees paid by adoptive parents to their adoption agencies. So because adoptions from this care center have essentially stopped, they aren't receiving the type funding most care centers receive. Basically, they live day by day from donations, knowing more babies will be coming into their care and may not be leaving.

In our final goodbyes, the directors thanked us again and again for the donations, and for our concern. We explained we were only the deliverers, and that so many of you had provided these donations, and so many of you back home were thinking and praying for them and sending them blessings. They send their many blessing to you. 

Climbing back in the van we realized we may have been the ones unloading boxes of supplies, but we were the ones being truly blessed a million times over with love. Through your generous donations you allowed us to be a conduit for hope and love. You blessed us with your generosity.

We were blessed.

Many of you have asked about the t-shirt I was wearing in my Facebook cover photo, and how fitting it was for the image of me holding both my children at the end of our court trip. If you haven't seen it, it's a Lucinda Williams concert t-shirt that says BLESSED multiple times down the front.  It's lyrics from this particular song that summarizes our trip to the care center:

We were blessed by the homeless man who showed us the way home

Blessed by the hungry man who filled us with love

by the little innocent babies who taught us the truth

We were blessed by the forlorn, forsaken and abused.

We were blessed.

We were blessed.

Our most humble thanks to all our friends, family and contributors. 

"For it is in giving that we receive." - Prayer of St Francis

Want to get more involved? There are several ways:

• Join the Project Hopeful Awassa Facebook group and find out what they are doing. Great people, awesome work! We will also be able to post pictures of some of the babies and children on their page. To respect their privacy we'll only post photos of the kids in a closed group, so what are you waiting for? Request to join their Facebook group!
• Become a FIG yourself!  Check out this blog post to see how: http://forsuchasthese.blogspot.com/2012/11/why-project-hopeful-awassa.html
• Purchase Goats!  You can also change the lives of families in the community by purchasing goats. (p.s. they make excellent birthday gifts) http://www.forsuchasthese.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-goat-for-christmas.html

Or, simply check out www.projecthopeful.org and find out what the organization is doing at large.

=============================================

What YOUR donations contributed:

• 3 large boxes filled with formula, diapers, shampoo, conditioners, lotions, vaseline, toothbrushes, toothpaste and more for the Ajuuja Care Center in Awassa
• 1 large duffle bag filled with 2 bumbos, several balls, board books, shoes and lots of clothing for the Ajuuja Care Center in Awassa
• 2 months worth of cooking oil, corn starch, corn flour, barley, rice, rice cereal, powdered milk, soap, aloe vera, honey, small treats and more (items selected by the care center Director when we took her shopping) for the Ajuuja Care Center in Awassa
• 14 pairs of shoes for the children at the IAN care center in Addis Ababa
• Monetary donation to a woman and mother of a family supported by the Ajuuja Care Center in Awassa who is undergoing surgery in Addis Ababa after extensive burns; to help compensate for travel to Addis Ababa and time lost working for her husband http://forsuchasthese.blogspot.com/2012/12/emebets-surgeryupdate.html
• Remaining funds donated will go directly to Project Hopeful Awassa to help support upcoming expenses

Pure and Simple

Did anyone see the movie "What To Expect When You're Expecting"? Remember the scene where Jennifer Lopez's character walks into a care center in Ethiopia to meet her son? There is a processional and she carries a candle, and a line of Ethiopian women in traditional clothes carry the babies and stand opposite the parents. The parents swear an oath to love the child and keep the Ethiopian traditions alive, and then the child is placed lovingly in the arms of the adoptive parents. It is a beautiful scene, and I cried the big ugly tears when I watched it in the movie theater. 

Yeah, picking up Wynray was nothing like that.

On Friday January 18th we arrived through the gates of the IAN care center in a van after having traveled 30 hours. Familiar faces appeared smiling. We hugged some older children and staff, but there was no time for small talk. We needed to get Wynray.  We walked into the nursery as Beti, his nanny, was finishing getting him dressed. She sat him in the floor and he greeted us with his trademark grin. I got down on all fours and touched his feet to give him a few seconds to take in our faces. And then we scooped him up...

Once we had him in our arms there was just joy. Pure joy.

We carried him around the care center as we visited with the staff and the children. We had packages to deliver, donations to drop off, hugs to give, pictures to take, and some babies to snuggle. Wynray was happy to be a part of the action and just seemed like a natural extension of us. He just fit.

Before we left the care center we changed him into his own clothes. Yes, his onesie say's "919 y'all"

We were then eager to take him back to the guest house and spend alone time with him. He was the delightful bundle of energy we expected. We played and snuggled, we gave him a bath, and fed him. He crawled around the room exploring while keeping track of where we were at all times.  

He was happy. We were happy. It was simple and wonderful, and just right.

Our reunion and the days following have been a true reflection of Wynray's personality: uncomplicated, happy, and joyful. We feel so lucky to be Wynray's family. 

We'll go back to the care center on Thursday before we head home for a traditional coffee ceremony and lunch. It will give us and Wynray a chance to say goodbye to the staff, his nannies, and all the sweet children and babies we've grown to love. 

In the meantime, we're soaking up every minute with Wynray.

Our last night as 3

Less than 48hrs after being submitted to Embassy we CLEARED! This is the news we've been waiting for that trumps referrals, court dates, and embassy submission. We've just been granted permission to bring Wynray HOME. 

In just a few days Wynray will finally snuggle into the arms of his forever family. It's been far too long that he's been away from the love of family. We know his birth family's love has sustained him until now. But it is time for that sweet boy to be wrapped in the arms of loving family again. It is time for Wynray to receive the love of family all the time. 

It is time.

We had a hunch we were on the fast track because we received notice within 24hrs of submission they had already processed our paperwork. My adoption support group and coordinator were all surprised at  how quickly we moved through that step. As stated in a previous post, we expected just our paperwork review to take at least a week.

I was given a bit of advice about Embassy being human and accommodating, and on a wild hunch I sent them a very brief email explaining this time of year is the busiest for my husband and we were having difficulty managing his upcoming business trips. I explained we had an opening in our schedule in the next week, and could come quickly if necessary. Within 6 hours of sending that email we cleared. We were shocked! They didn't even require a birth parent interview which had been standard procedure.

Keep in mind Addis Ababa is 8 hours ahead of us. We were also told the Embassy only works half days on Friday and not to expect much communication from them until the following week. So after writing the email I dismissed it thinking it was a shot in the dark and went to bed without any expectations. Fredrik on the other hand worked until after midnight, and then not sleeping well, he checked his email at 2:30. 

I seriously thought it was going to be me performing the all night email vigils. But at 2:30 on Friday morning, Fredrik checked his email...and according to him he rechecked about five times. I believe the thought of waking me up with incorrect information was a little scary, but I'm happy to say his eyesight adjusted in the darkness and after closing out the email and reopening it several times he concluded it was real and gently woke me to say that we had cleared. 

I didn't go back to sleep until 6:30 am, just in time to wake up at 7 to get Kysa ready for school. 

After our court trip, it seems odd to have any time between getting clearance and actually getting on a plane. Last time we literally purchased our tickets 14 hours before boarding. This time we have 5 days. 

...and in that five days Fredrik is going to New York and presenting at a conference. He left this morning and will be back on Wednesday morning just in time to repack, pick up Kysa from school and board another plane on Wednesday afternoon.

In the meantime, the house is a mess, donations are piling up, the suitcases need packing, Kysa needs everything organized for her. I won't bore you with the details, but my to do list is a mile long....

Last night we came home from a dinner party and climbed into bed with Kysa between us. We snuggled under the covers and stared at our sweetly sleeping girl, marveling at her beauty with hearts overflowing with gratitude for the last two and a half years of bliss. It was the last time we'll do that as a family of three. After all the wishing and hoping Wynray home, even before he was conceived or born, we have finally arrived at the moment we've been so desperately yearning. But last night I wanted to suspend time just a little longer.

Last night, the simple mundane practice of going to sleep as a family was a life defining moment. We were gifted the awareness that we were closing a chapter. We were able to breathe in that moment, savor it, and accept the passing of time. We were closing a beautiful, blissful, exciting chapter. For 970 nights give or take a few, we've gone to sleep as a family of three, and the next time we are all together again performing the sweet and intimate nighttime ritual of taking rest, we will begin our next chapter as a family of four. 

We can't wait to bring Wynray home, but I'd be lying to say my heart isn't mourning Kysa's babyhood. She's going to be the Big Sister now, and she's going to be a great one. Wynray is going to be the perfect addition to this family, we know that without a doubt. But for the next three days I'm going to soak up every moment with Kysa, my precious baby girl.

Then, in a few days we will board a plane and cross a wide ocean. We will travel 7,447 miles to our son, and continue to take our place in the family of things...

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

-Mary Oliver

So long, Mr Round...

This morning we received an email with these magic words:

Congratulations!  Your adoption case has been submitted to the U.S. Embassy in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  

There is a spaciousness and softness that has returned to my body. Behind this renewed sense of ease is still a dull ache for our son to be in our arms, but the difference between what I felt last night and this morning is vast.

To celebrate, I went through some of Kysa's clothes looking for things to donate to Wynray's care center. While digging through the storage bins I discovered the box of clothes I'd been saving for Wynray. It was like discovering a treasure trove of memories and hope. The box contained a mix of well loved clothes Kysa wore as a baby, and clothes that I've purchased over the last two years for our baby boy.

I sat on the floor in Wynray's room and snuggled, smelled, and folded itty bitty baby clothes and walked myself down memory lane. Is there anything more nostalgic than folding baby clothes that your child once wore? Then add to that the clothes you've been saving for your new baby that he won't wear because he's outgrown them. 

Today is a day to celebrate, Wynray will be home soon. So I'm not going to spend much time thinking about the time we've missed with Wynray. But I do need to mourn the passing of Mr. Round. 

Mr. Round joined the collection of beloved clothes for Wynray two years ago when we spent Thanksgiving in Spain and Italy. Clearly, I had unrealistic expectations at the time because Mr Round was a 3-6 month sized shirt. However, we did get Wynray's referral when he was 5 months, though he'll be 9 months on Sunday. 

Isn't Mr Round cute? I love him....but not as much as Mr Sunshine.

One thing is for certain though, I would gladly trade Mr Round for Mr Sunshine. Wynray, it won't be long now. Just hold on, buddy. Mama and Papa and coming soon....

So long, Mr Round...Mr Sunshine is moving in.