The cardboard boxes are mostly gone from the premises. The house is starting to function as a home more than an urban camping site. Kysa is going to school and loving it, Fredrik is going to the office during the day and building IKEA furniture at night, and me? Aside from trying to transform heaps of stuff into an aesthetically pleasing home for my family....well, I'm dancing again. Yep, at 36 I'm dusting off my dance pants.
In the first week in our home, I took my first dance technique class in 8 years (!) and I had a rehearsal yesterday. In the last 8 years I've shifted my physical practice to yoga because of an ongoing dance injury. While my true passion is dancing, the physical pain that also created emotional pain (and probably vice versa) was greatly outweighing the joy. Yoga gave me relief, balance, a regular physical practice, a community, and spiritual connection....oh yeah, and teaching jobs. I thought I had found a substitute movement form and career path that also challenged me intellectually, creatively, and spiritually. But there was an itch that needed scratching, and yoga wasn't quite scratching it. Not to say I'm turning my back on yoga, but I think this is a lesson I'm continually learning on finding balance.
So Monday night I went to dance class, a little nervous that my sequencing brain had shrivelled up, that my body wouldn't support me (particularly with my extra adoption weight), and really nervous that my old injury and pain would resurface.
*Yes, this is my public admission that I have gained some adoption weight. I have no idea how much because I refuse to step on the scale (meeting it head on, right?) I don't think it's a crazy amount of weight because I still fit in most of my clothes, but I still hate it. And I'm not making up adoption weight. It's a real thing. Google it. Maybe "moving weight" is a real thing too so I have double the excuse. Having just moved to a different state, now on our 17th month on the wait list, and sitting in the #2 position, I'm going to give myself a little grace, and hopefully a few less calories.
Back to dance class. At the beginning of class Glenda, my friend and teacher, asked everyone to say why they were there (it was the first class of the entire year). Overwhelmingly, the responses from seasoned lifelong dancers were: because I need it, because I couldn't get through my week without it, because my family needs me to be here, because it keeps me sane, because this is what I do.
My response? Because I'm looking for re-entry, I'm trying to get back to myself.
And then we were off, and flying. And I danced, and danced for a glorious hour and a half, and my body felt great. And not to sound like a Hallmark card...but my spirit soared too.
Yesterday, I returned to the dance studio for rehearsal. I immediately ran into my friend, Natalie (who I met in college dance class circa 1994 when we were babies!) whose first words were "Welcome Home!" Then my friend Michelle started rehearsal by sharing the famous Merce Cuunningham quote, “You have to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no
manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang
in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single
fleeting moment when you feel alive.”
....and then a hand full of new and old dance friends kicked their own butts for the next hour and a half. I left dripping with sweat and happy. Genuinely happy. It was a different kind of happiness from the sweet and selfless happiness I find taking care of my child, or my family, and certainly different than retail therapy, or travel, or finishing a good book. It was a pure and simple happiness generated from me, by me, for me. It was a manifestation of the mind, body and spirit strewn into the universe for that one fleeting moment of feeling alive.
I believe I've come back to myself.
I believe I've found home, not in this old house on Elm St, but in this 36 year old body that needs to dance.
Welcome home, me.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Goodnight, Charleston
Tomorrow morning we have a re-inspection on our home, and then we head to our doctor for yet another physical for our adoption, (since we are moving we have to re-do most of our home study. ugh.) tomorrow night our neighbors are throwing us a little going away pot luck, on Thursday the movers come to pack us up, and on Friday we leave Charleston and move to our new home in Raleigh. Whew.
This morning I woke up to a deluge of rain and a mile long to-do list. Fredrik is in New York and has been gone since last Friday. He dropped in briefly on Sunday evening long enough to let me make a Target run and to repack his suitcase, but I'm not sure if you can really count that as being home since he was gone again before any of us were awake the next day.
Kysa and I spent the morning in our pj's snuggling as the rain continued to pour and pour, thanks to Hurricane Isaac. Given our tight timeline for the next few days, I tried to ignore the voice inside me who was starting to freak out that Fredrik wasn't going to make his flight home. Over the next few hours the to do list taunted me, the chaos wasn't organizing itself, and I may have sent Fredrik a few (ok, many) texts alerting him to the flooding going on here. People were kayaking in the streets of downtown Charleston, so I wasn't just being a Nervous Nelly, it was getting pretty serious. The evening news called it "historic" flooding.
Flights have been cancelled for a lot less than floods and rain, and I don't get stressed out too often, but the voice of my anxiety grew louder and louder. If Fredrik didn't get home tonight, not only would we not be able to get ready for the movers, but he'd miss the doctor's appointment which we need desperately for our home study to be completed....
Had I let that voice of anxiety really let loose (and I almost did) I would have missed out on what a gift today actually was. Instead of packing boxes, I snuggled with Kysa. Instead of organizing our linens I rocked her and read her stories. Instead of running to the bank I stayed put and danced in the kitchen and sang silly songs. Today was my last day at home, in our first home, with Kysa...and I almost missed it by freaking out about things I can't control.
Tonight when Kysa and I sat down for dinner I was beginning to feel another wave of anxiety over how little I'd accomplished today. I made rice and beans, by the way, which is what you cook for dinner after you've cleaned out your pantry, and your fridge, and the pizza guys won't deliver because there's flooding. At some point it dawned on me that this was our last dinner at our dinner table in our little Ashe St house, and suddenly those rice and beans became very poignant. So simple and basic, so hearty and satisfying....home food.
And so I completely surrendered the day to being Kysa's mom. There is still chaos to organize, a kitchen to clean, bags to pack. But I spent the day with Kysa, and I was able to be present in the last few hours we'd get to spend together in our house, just us, mother and daughter. I am so grateful for today.
Kysa and I took one last bath together in our little claw foot tub, and I rocked her in her little green room, and read the book Goodnight, Charleston one last time in our little Charleston home.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For Kysa, my little guru,
Someday this house you sleep in tonight will fade from your memory. You won't remember all the little details that made this house so perfect for our little family, like it being energy efficient or the open floor plan, or the owls and woodland creatures I stuck on your walls.
I have moved around a lot, so I can tell you everywhere you live (and travel!) makes an imprint and informs who you become. You probably will not remember living in Charleston, but these two years have made an imprint on the person you are and who you will be...and you're becoming the most incredible little person, my love. Just like the Blue Ridge Mountains imprinted on my childhood, places I've lived like Raleigh, Charlottesville, Istanbul, New York City, and Charleston have helped me become an artist, a friend, a woman, a wife and now a mother. All these places, and the wonderful people I met along the way have helped shape who I am today. I can't wait to find out all the places we'll live and travel together, and all the places you'll choose to call home too!
Kysa, this blog is as much for you as it is for your brother, and someday when you read this I want you to know how important these three years have been at 49 Ashe St for me, your mom. When a mother gives birth to a baby a miraculous thing occurs...a mother is born too! Becoming your mother has changed and empowered me in ways I never knew possible. You have taught me some of life's most valuable lessons.
Because of you, I know how to truly listen with my whole being. I've learned how to put someone else's needs before my own. I've learned I'm stronger and more capable than I could have imagined, but I'm also more vulnerable than I'd like to admit. I also learned I'm a fierce mama bear. One of the many mama bear examples; without meaning to, I shoved your papa out of the way to get to you when you took a slow-mo tumble down the stairs a few weeks ago. Yep, I did. Sorry, Fredrik. I've learned all these lessons here in our little house on Ashe Street, with you as my teacher.
I know you won't remember bedtime in this house, and that makes me so very sad, because it is my favorite (though sometimes exhausting) time with you. So I want to tell you exactly what happens because I think it's really special.
After your papa gives you a bath, you climb in my lap and we read at least 3 books. Then I turn off the light and you snuggle down into my arms. When your papa is traveling we always ask God/Goddess/the Universe/Mother Earth (we like to change it up) for his safe return and we always send your baby brother some love and light in Africa. When your papa is home he always comes in to kiss you goodnight and you say together in Swedish, "Compassion for the world, and all who live there." Then we rock and rock until you whisper, "sing mama."
I sing to you in sanskrit a medley of Lokah Samastah, the guru mantra, Rama Bolo, and Sri Krishna Govinda. Rama Bolo is your current favorite mantra, but your favorite part is when I sing Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti-hi Hare Om. You know all the words to all the mantras, by the way.
Once I begin to feel you drifting off I say to you these words:
"You are kind. You are brave. You are smart. You are beautiful. You are special, and I love you".
Recently you've been saying back to me, "I think you're special too, Mama." It makes me cry and my heart beam every time. And then I rock you until you are heavy with sleep, sometimes I just hold you and watch you sleep for a while because you are so beautiful and peaceful, and then I tuck you into your bed and give you one last kiss.
I wish I could have bottled up just one of our precious good nights here at 49 Ashe to take with me ...but that's silly of course, each night is now a part of me and who I am. Our good nights are tucked away in my cells and muscle memory, flowing with my blood and compounded deep into my bones...just as they are in yours. We will carry them with us always.
I promise we will always read and rock and sing for as long as you will let me.
Goodnight, Charleston and Goodnight, Kysa.
I love you.
Mommy
This morning I woke up to a deluge of rain and a mile long to-do list. Fredrik is in New York and has been gone since last Friday. He dropped in briefly on Sunday evening long enough to let me make a Target run and to repack his suitcase, but I'm not sure if you can really count that as being home since he was gone again before any of us were awake the next day.
Kysa and I spent the morning in our pj's snuggling as the rain continued to pour and pour, thanks to Hurricane Isaac. Given our tight timeline for the next few days, I tried to ignore the voice inside me who was starting to freak out that Fredrik wasn't going to make his flight home. Over the next few hours the to do list taunted me, the chaos wasn't organizing itself, and I may have sent Fredrik a few (ok, many) texts alerting him to the flooding going on here. People were kayaking in the streets of downtown Charleston, so I wasn't just being a Nervous Nelly, it was getting pretty serious. The evening news called it "historic" flooding.
Flights have been cancelled for a lot less than floods and rain, and I don't get stressed out too often, but the voice of my anxiety grew louder and louder. If Fredrik didn't get home tonight, not only would we not be able to get ready for the movers, but he'd miss the doctor's appointment which we need desperately for our home study to be completed....
Had I let that voice of anxiety really let loose (and I almost did) I would have missed out on what a gift today actually was. Instead of packing boxes, I snuggled with Kysa. Instead of organizing our linens I rocked her and read her stories. Instead of running to the bank I stayed put and danced in the kitchen and sang silly songs. Today was my last day at home, in our first home, with Kysa...and I almost missed it by freaking out about things I can't control.
Tonight when Kysa and I sat down for dinner I was beginning to feel another wave of anxiety over how little I'd accomplished today. I made rice and beans, by the way, which is what you cook for dinner after you've cleaned out your pantry, and your fridge, and the pizza guys won't deliver because there's flooding. At some point it dawned on me that this was our last dinner at our dinner table in our little Ashe St house, and suddenly those rice and beans became very poignant. So simple and basic, so hearty and satisfying....home food.
And so I completely surrendered the day to being Kysa's mom. There is still chaos to organize, a kitchen to clean, bags to pack. But I spent the day with Kysa, and I was able to be present in the last few hours we'd get to spend together in our house, just us, mother and daughter. I am so grateful for today.
Kysa and I took one last bath together in our little claw foot tub, and I rocked her in her little green room, and read the book Goodnight, Charleston one last time in our little Charleston home.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For Kysa, my little guru,
Someday this house you sleep in tonight will fade from your memory. You won't remember all the little details that made this house so perfect for our little family, like it being energy efficient or the open floor plan, or the owls and woodland creatures I stuck on your walls.
I have moved around a lot, so I can tell you everywhere you live (and travel!) makes an imprint and informs who you become. You probably will not remember living in Charleston, but these two years have made an imprint on the person you are and who you will be...and you're becoming the most incredible little person, my love. Just like the Blue Ridge Mountains imprinted on my childhood, places I've lived like Raleigh, Charlottesville, Istanbul, New York City, and Charleston have helped me become an artist, a friend, a woman, a wife and now a mother. All these places, and the wonderful people I met along the way have helped shape who I am today. I can't wait to find out all the places we'll live and travel together, and all the places you'll choose to call home too!
Kysa, this blog is as much for you as it is for your brother, and someday when you read this I want you to know how important these three years have been at 49 Ashe St for me, your mom. When a mother gives birth to a baby a miraculous thing occurs...a mother is born too! Becoming your mother has changed and empowered me in ways I never knew possible. You have taught me some of life's most valuable lessons.
Because of you, I know how to truly listen with my whole being. I've learned how to put someone else's needs before my own. I've learned I'm stronger and more capable than I could have imagined, but I'm also more vulnerable than I'd like to admit. I also learned I'm a fierce mama bear. One of the many mama bear examples; without meaning to, I shoved your papa out of the way to get to you when you took a slow-mo tumble down the stairs a few weeks ago. Yep, I did. Sorry, Fredrik. I've learned all these lessons here in our little house on Ashe Street, with you as my teacher.
I know you won't remember bedtime in this house, and that makes me so very sad, because it is my favorite (though sometimes exhausting) time with you. So I want to tell you exactly what happens because I think it's really special.
After your papa gives you a bath, you climb in my lap and we read at least 3 books. Then I turn off the light and you snuggle down into my arms. When your papa is traveling we always ask God/Goddess/the Universe/Mother Earth (we like to change it up) for his safe return and we always send your baby brother some love and light in Africa. When your papa is home he always comes in to kiss you goodnight and you say together in Swedish, "Compassion for the world, and all who live there." Then we rock and rock until you whisper, "sing mama."
I sing to you in sanskrit a medley of Lokah Samastah, the guru mantra, Rama Bolo, and Sri Krishna Govinda. Rama Bolo is your current favorite mantra, but your favorite part is when I sing Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti-hi Hare Om. You know all the words to all the mantras, by the way.
Once I begin to feel you drifting off I say to you these words:
"You are kind. You are brave. You are smart. You are beautiful. You are special, and I love you".
Recently you've been saying back to me, "I think you're special too, Mama." It makes me cry and my heart beam every time. And then I rock you until you are heavy with sleep, sometimes I just hold you and watch you sleep for a while because you are so beautiful and peaceful, and then I tuck you into your bed and give you one last kiss.
I wish I could have bottled up just one of our precious good nights here at 49 Ashe to take with me ...but that's silly of course, each night is now a part of me and who I am. Our good nights are tucked away in my cells and muscle memory, flowing with my blood and compounded deep into my bones...just as they are in yours. We will carry them with us always.
I promise we will always read and rock and sing for as long as you will let me.
Goodnight, Charleston and Goodnight, Kysa.
I love you.
Mommy
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
I do believe she gets it!
When I arrived at my daughter's school for pickup, her teacher mentioned Kysa (2yrs) had attached to a particular toy and refused to leave it in the library. Then I looked more closely at the toy she was clutching, and I began to sob. And then her teacher "got it" (gasping with hands covering her heart), and suggested Kysa take the toy home for a sleep over.
Kysa told me in the car that she was holding her "Baby Brother" and she needed to feed him milk. So before nap time she did.
And then she asked me to rock them to sleep. So of course, I obliged.
And then this....
Even at 2, I think she gets it. I think we're ready.
Sobbing happily,
Allison
Monday, July 23, 2012
Full Circles and Magic, and Oh Yeah, We' MOVING!!
Tonight we ate dinner at FUEL, our favorite neighborhood restaurant, to symbolically punctuate all our change and to come full circle. We ate at FUEL 3 years ago on the night we made an offer on our house. Today we accepted an offer to sell it.
In the last three days Fredrik has accepted an offer to join the new company that was sold off from IBM in Raleigh, we have accepted an offer on our Charleston home, we purchased two cars, turned in our leased Subaru, and finalized the arrangements with the home we'll be moving into. We've had showings on our home, movers walking through our home for moving estimates and quick conversations with home study agencies in NC to revise our adoption paperwork (hopefully quickly!). AND we have a nephew due any minute now (come on Kim and Baby O!!)
HOLY COW...I guess I can now officially announce: WE'RE MOVING back to RALEIGH!!!!
So much has happened in the last few months that I haven't been able to share....but now I can. Almost immediately after we applied to adopt Sweet Baby E we learned Fredrik's division of IBM was being sold to Toshiba. It changed everything. Suddenly, Fredrik was traveling ALL THE TIME and a large part of it was to Raleigh.
Fredrik has been able to work remotely for the last 8 years which has afforded us the experience of living in both NYC, and Charleston, SC. Not bad, right? And now we're making our way back to the mother ship. Toshiba will keep the division headquarters in Raleigh, and Fredrik will now be closer to the middle of things. We think it's pretty important that our family is together as much as possible, especially with the adoption, so we're ALL going to go.
So now for the groovy, ironic, divine intervention type news. Buckle your seat belts. I couldn't make this stuff up.
Once we realized we needed to move to Raleigh, I found a house online with a yoga studio that I just KNEW we needed to buy. Kysa and I joined Fredrik on a business trip and we went to Raleigh prepared to make an offer. Yep. I was THAT sure. We asked our "chosen family" friends, Jim and Glenda, to go with us to give us their unbiased opinion.
The yoga studio house wasn't as sexy in person as it was online. I was very disappointed, and our friends showed us that the house across the street from them was for sale. I thought they were joking as I knew the neighborhood was out of our price range being a historic neighborhood, walking distance to downtown Raleigh, great schools, museums, restaurants, and best of all...closest proximity to them.
Jim, a musician (and surfer!), has played/composed/improvised for more of my dance performances than I can count. Glenda and I have performed, taught, collaborated, and shared artistic vision and sisterhood for many, many years. Glenda and I have slept under the stars together, danced in gas pump graveyards and cow pastures, she has known me through various life phases and hair colors. She spoke in our wedding ceremony and rapped at our reception. She knows me in my bones. Their daughters read "The Velveteen Rabbit" at our wedding, the same sweet girls I babysat when I was in college. Now those college-aged girls babysit (spoil/love/play with) our daughter.
So living across the street from the MaCrews seemed almost too perfect, too full circle-like, especially since we'll be moving in with little ones, and their youngest will be starting college next year.
The only problem was that the house was completely out of our price range. Kind of a deal breaker, huh? But we were curious and we met the owner anyway, and he showed us the house. He and his wife had adopted a little girl from China nine years ago. We loved the house, the vibe, the street, the proximity to friends and urban life, the fact that we could grow into the house because it's twice as big as our current home....but there was no way we could make the financial stretch.
And then it turned out Joe, the owner of the house, is an angel.
Yep. A real life angel.
Sometimes the impossible happens, sometimes things aren't too good to be true.
Sometimes people have faith in you and you don't know why.
Long story short, we're now moving into that house across the street from our dear friends and Joe has generously given us the opportunity to buy a home we couldn't otherwise afford over time... in a time frame that is possible for our family. Wow. wow. wow....
Hopefully you're still hanging in there...it's about to get crazier still.
We put our Charleston home on the market about three weeks ago, and about a week ago we got an offer on the house. After reviewing the offer we noticed the name seemed "interesting" so I did some Facebook stalking.
The man who wanted to buy our home is from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
Let that sink in.
No, there is not an Ethiopian community here in Charleston. I have never seen an Ethiopian in Charleston, other than the kids our friends have adopted. As a matter of fact, one of the main reasons we're so anxious to move to Raleigh is to be in a more ethnically diverse community. I don't believe in coincidence. It was a sign.
After pleading with my husband to just give the man our house in fear that if the deal didn't go through we'd have 10 more years before a referral, I was promptly asked by my sweet husband to let him handle the negotiations. I'm only slightly kidding. I wanted this man to have our house. It felt important, necessary, and somehow intrinsic to the master plan that is being slowly revealed to us.
Today we met the man who wants to buy our house. He is a young man with strikingly beautiful Ethiopian features, kind eyes, and a slow yet easy smile. I'm sure I stared and smiled way too much in a super creepy way as I looked for my son in his face. I do this every time I see an Ethiopian man young or old. You know, taking in the texture of his eyebrows, his hairline, his hair, the straightness of his teeth, the shape of his face, the gentle politeness of his handshake, the quiet way he observed, the tone of his voice. Our conversation was less than two minutes...Yep. I'm sure I was creepy. Thank goodness Kysa is cute and distracting.
We didn't share with him our plans to adopt from Ethiopia, it didn't seem appropriate at the time or fair to him. But I got to lay eyes on a man from our son's homeland who followed some cosmic thread of divinity straight to our doorstep. And he wanted to buy the doorstep and all that was attached to it! We stepped into a miracle and I attempted to soak it in. I'm still soaking it in.
I got to shake hands with the man who we hope will live in our beloved house after we are gone. The house that supported our growth to a family of three, the house I lumbered around in like a big fat ghost when I was pregnant and couldn't sleep at night, the house I labored in with Kysa, and rocked her, and nursed her, and witnessed her first steps, and heard her first words. The house that sheltered us through conceiving our adoption preparations and plans. Our house has contained so much joy I'm not sure how we've managed to keep the roof on.
I couldn't have dreamed up a bigger/better/more beautiful plan. I couldn't think of a more perfect person to live in our perfect little house on Ashe Street.
This afternoon, not more than an hour after meeting this son of Ethiopia, we accepted his offer. It feels so right.
I believe we are ready to move on, to pass along this happy, sweet space we've called home for three years. I'm ready to take our family magic and grow it in another space. We have been given the opportunity to move forward into our future, into a home with more space to fill, supported and surrounded by faith, love and loved ones. The momentum has been hard and fast, but we're ready to trust it and align with it.
What a beautiful, wild and magic ride.
Feeling so blessed and grateful,
Allison
Oh, ironically, over 10 years ago, Glenda and I choreographed a duet called "Saftey Net" about relationships that become our support systems, our lifelines. As the old philosophical question goes, does life imitate art or art imitate life? I'm glad I get to live that question.
In the last three days Fredrik has accepted an offer to join the new company that was sold off from IBM in Raleigh, we have accepted an offer on our Charleston home, we purchased two cars, turned in our leased Subaru, and finalized the arrangements with the home we'll be moving into. We've had showings on our home, movers walking through our home for moving estimates and quick conversations with home study agencies in NC to revise our adoption paperwork (hopefully quickly!). AND we have a nephew due any minute now (come on Kim and Baby O!!)
HOLY COW...I guess I can now officially announce: WE'RE MOVING back to RALEIGH!!!!
So much has happened in the last few months that I haven't been able to share....but now I can. Almost immediately after we applied to adopt Sweet Baby E we learned Fredrik's division of IBM was being sold to Toshiba. It changed everything. Suddenly, Fredrik was traveling ALL THE TIME and a large part of it was to Raleigh.
Fredrik has been able to work remotely for the last 8 years which has afforded us the experience of living in both NYC, and Charleston, SC. Not bad, right? And now we're making our way back to the mother ship. Toshiba will keep the division headquarters in Raleigh, and Fredrik will now be closer to the middle of things. We think it's pretty important that our family is together as much as possible, especially with the adoption, so we're ALL going to go.
So now for the groovy, ironic, divine intervention type news. Buckle your seat belts. I couldn't make this stuff up.
Once we realized we needed to move to Raleigh, I found a house online with a yoga studio that I just KNEW we needed to buy. Kysa and I joined Fredrik on a business trip and we went to Raleigh prepared to make an offer. Yep. I was THAT sure. We asked our "chosen family" friends, Jim and Glenda, to go with us to give us their unbiased opinion.
The yoga studio house wasn't as sexy in person as it was online. I was very disappointed, and our friends showed us that the house across the street from them was for sale. I thought they were joking as I knew the neighborhood was out of our price range being a historic neighborhood, walking distance to downtown Raleigh, great schools, museums, restaurants, and best of all...closest proximity to them.
Jim, a musician (and surfer!), has played/composed/improvised for more of my dance performances than I can count. Glenda and I have performed, taught, collaborated, and shared artistic vision and sisterhood for many, many years. Glenda and I have slept under the stars together, danced in gas pump graveyards and cow pastures, she has known me through various life phases and hair colors. She spoke in our wedding ceremony and rapped at our reception. She knows me in my bones. Their daughters read "The Velveteen Rabbit" at our wedding, the same sweet girls I babysat when I was in college. Now those college-aged girls babysit (spoil/love/play with) our daughter.
So living across the street from the MaCrews seemed almost too perfect, too full circle-like, especially since we'll be moving in with little ones, and their youngest will be starting college next year.
The only problem was that the house was completely out of our price range. Kind of a deal breaker, huh? But we were curious and we met the owner anyway, and he showed us the house. He and his wife had adopted a little girl from China nine years ago. We loved the house, the vibe, the street, the proximity to friends and urban life, the fact that we could grow into the house because it's twice as big as our current home....but there was no way we could make the financial stretch.
And then it turned out Joe, the owner of the house, is an angel.
Yep. A real life angel.
Sometimes the impossible happens, sometimes things aren't too good to be true.
Sometimes people have faith in you and you don't know why.
Long story short, we're now moving into that house across the street from our dear friends and Joe has generously given us the opportunity to buy a home we couldn't otherwise afford over time... in a time frame that is possible for our family. Wow. wow. wow....
Hopefully you're still hanging in there...it's about to get crazier still.
We put our Charleston home on the market about three weeks ago, and about a week ago we got an offer on the house. After reviewing the offer we noticed the name seemed "interesting" so I did some Facebook stalking.
The man who wanted to buy our home is from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
Let that sink in.
No, there is not an Ethiopian community here in Charleston. I have never seen an Ethiopian in Charleston, other than the kids our friends have adopted. As a matter of fact, one of the main reasons we're so anxious to move to Raleigh is to be in a more ethnically diverse community. I don't believe in coincidence. It was a sign.
After pleading with my husband to just give the man our house in fear that if the deal didn't go through we'd have 10 more years before a referral, I was promptly asked by my sweet husband to let him handle the negotiations. I'm only slightly kidding. I wanted this man to have our house. It felt important, necessary, and somehow intrinsic to the master plan that is being slowly revealed to us.
Today we met the man who wants to buy our house. He is a young man with strikingly beautiful Ethiopian features, kind eyes, and a slow yet easy smile. I'm sure I stared and smiled way too much in a super creepy way as I looked for my son in his face. I do this every time I see an Ethiopian man young or old. You know, taking in the texture of his eyebrows, his hairline, his hair, the straightness of his teeth, the shape of his face, the gentle politeness of his handshake, the quiet way he observed, the tone of his voice. Our conversation was less than two minutes...Yep. I'm sure I was creepy. Thank goodness Kysa is cute and distracting.
We didn't share with him our plans to adopt from Ethiopia, it didn't seem appropriate at the time or fair to him. But I got to lay eyes on a man from our son's homeland who followed some cosmic thread of divinity straight to our doorstep. And he wanted to buy the doorstep and all that was attached to it! We stepped into a miracle and I attempted to soak it in. I'm still soaking it in.
I got to shake hands with the man who we hope will live in our beloved house after we are gone. The house that supported our growth to a family of three, the house I lumbered around in like a big fat ghost when I was pregnant and couldn't sleep at night, the house I labored in with Kysa, and rocked her, and nursed her, and witnessed her first steps, and heard her first words. The house that sheltered us through conceiving our adoption preparations and plans. Our house has contained so much joy I'm not sure how we've managed to keep the roof on.
I couldn't have dreamed up a bigger/better/more beautiful plan. I couldn't think of a more perfect person to live in our perfect little house on Ashe Street.
This afternoon, not more than an hour after meeting this son of Ethiopia, we accepted his offer. It feels so right.
I believe we are ready to move on, to pass along this happy, sweet space we've called home for three years. I'm ready to take our family magic and grow it in another space. We have been given the opportunity to move forward into our future, into a home with more space to fill, supported and surrounded by faith, love and loved ones. The momentum has been hard and fast, but we're ready to trust it and align with it.
What a beautiful, wild and magic ride.
Feeling so blessed and grateful,
Allison
Oh, ironically, over 10 years ago, Glenda and I choreographed a duet called "Saftey Net" about relationships that become our support systems, our lifelines. As the old philosophical question goes, does life imitate art or art imitate life? I'm glad I get to live that question.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Negotiations and Love Songs
A couple weeks ago, we thought we'd moved up one spot on the waiting list. After contacting our coordinator we discovered we're actually #2 on the unofficial (but the one that counts) wait list. There were simultaneous tears and laughter when we found out...and THEN I almost threw up and couldn't breathe.
Why?
Because we're in the middle of negotiating EVERYTHING, and I mean everything!! Every component of our life seems to be a variable at the moment. I will share more details as things fall into place. But I can tell you the last couple weeks have been a perfect storm that appears to be leading us to grand, sweeping, life-altering, good CHANGE and possibility.
I keep thinking of a line from Paul Simon's song Train in the Distance, "negotiations and love songs are often mistaken for one and the same" I think of the songs I sing Kysa as I "negotiate" her to sleep, to eat dinner, or to sit in her car seat just a little longer. Sometimes I think she's living a real life musical. I think of negotiating (ok, bribing) Kysa with M&Ms for going potty. And I think of the negotiations we've been making for our family out of love for each other and the dreams we share. Yes, these negotiations and love songs could be mistaken for one and the same.
I've spent the last two weeks grounding myself against our perfect storm of change with family and chosen family, who over the last 15 years have known me at my best and loved me at my worst. Two weeks at the beach with long walks, swimming in the ocean, cooking, after-dinner conversations, porch talks, and lots and lots of laughter soothed my soul like love songs through this rocky yet abundant time. I think of the old patterns of group dynamics and decision making that show up like irritating but oddly comforting habits...negotiations and love songs? Yes.
And YES!!! We're so close to our Baby Boy that I tried to negotiate with Fredrik to buy a lime green rocking chair for his room this morning (nope, denied). We also spent last night at a car dealership and all morning lovingly (ahem) negotiating what cars our single car family of three will need as a two car family of four. Negotiations and love songs? You bet.
Paul Simon goes on to sing in Train in the Distance "Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance/everybody thinks it's true." We keep listening for the distant train, the call from our agency, the sound of an important email arriving in our inbox, the ding of a text. Our ears are perked for the distant trains that are due to pull into our station any minute telling us everything is okay, everything is true.
As the flurry of change engulfs us, and as the negotiations get more complicated/uncomfortable/stressful I hope we can continue to ground our hearts in singing our negotiations like love songs.
Someone will need to remind me I said that.
Shanti-
Allison
Why?
Because we're in the middle of negotiating EVERYTHING, and I mean everything!! Every component of our life seems to be a variable at the moment. I will share more details as things fall into place. But I can tell you the last couple weeks have been a perfect storm that appears to be leading us to grand, sweeping, life-altering, good CHANGE and possibility.
I keep thinking of a line from Paul Simon's song Train in the Distance, "negotiations and love songs are often mistaken for one and the same" I think of the songs I sing Kysa as I "negotiate" her to sleep, to eat dinner, or to sit in her car seat just a little longer. Sometimes I think she's living a real life musical. I think of negotiating (ok, bribing) Kysa with M&Ms for going potty. And I think of the negotiations we've been making for our family out of love for each other and the dreams we share. Yes, these negotiations and love songs could be mistaken for one and the same.
I've spent the last two weeks grounding myself against our perfect storm of change with family and chosen family, who over the last 15 years have known me at my best and loved me at my worst. Two weeks at the beach with long walks, swimming in the ocean, cooking, after-dinner conversations, porch talks, and lots and lots of laughter soothed my soul like love songs through this rocky yet abundant time. I think of the old patterns of group dynamics and decision making that show up like irritating but oddly comforting habits...negotiations and love songs? Yes.
And YES!!! We're so close to our Baby Boy that I tried to negotiate with Fredrik to buy a lime green rocking chair for his room this morning (nope, denied). We also spent last night at a car dealership and all morning lovingly (ahem) negotiating what cars our single car family of three will need as a two car family of four. Negotiations and love songs? You bet.
Paul Simon goes on to sing in Train in the Distance "Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance/everybody thinks it's true." We keep listening for the distant train, the call from our agency, the sound of an important email arriving in our inbox, the ding of a text. Our ears are perked for the distant trains that are due to pull into our station any minute telling us everything is okay, everything is true.
As the flurry of change engulfs us, and as the negotiations get more complicated/uncomfortable/stressful I hope we can continue to ground our hearts in singing our negotiations like love songs.
Someone will need to remind me I said that.
Shanti-
Allison
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The Waiting Weary
We've now been on the wait list over a year. It wasn't really an anniversary I felt like celebrating, so I'm writing about it a few weeks after the fact. We spent 8 months completing our paperwork to get us wait list ready...so we're now at about 20 months of gearing up for a baby. No, we haven't painted the nursery.
Did you know elephants have 2 year pregnancies?
Fredrik is being consumed by work, and thankfully for him he doesn't have time to think about much else...but I'm getting weary. There is a heaviness I can't shake.
I can't emotionally afford to keep reading about adoption, Ethiopia, participating in our agency's FB group, thinking about our baby boy, and his birth family every day....but if I don't I feel disconnected, and then I feel guilty.
I don't want Kysa to suffer from my funk. She certainly deserves a happy mommy. Thankfully, her joy is infectious and I can reserve my personal funk for my alone time (ahem, what alone time?).
On last summer's beach vacay, I stood on the beach with one of my best friends and with complete certainty I announced that next summer we'd have a baby boy playing on the beach. I'm now ordering new swimsuits for this summer's trip with no baby in sight. And I can say with complete uncertainty that I'm not sure if baby boy will be on NEXT summer's beach vacation.
And now I feel like a jerk for whining about waiting when our baby and his birth family will have their world torn apart in order to relieve our waiting woes. Welcome to the downward spiral of my mind.
I wish I had an optimistic remark to end on, so....
Thank you for checking in on us...your support means so much.
Namaste,
Allison
Did you know elephants have 2 year pregnancies?
Fredrik is being consumed by work, and thankfully for him he doesn't have time to think about much else...but I'm getting weary. There is a heaviness I can't shake.
I can't emotionally afford to keep reading about adoption, Ethiopia, participating in our agency's FB group, thinking about our baby boy, and his birth family every day....but if I don't I feel disconnected, and then I feel guilty.
I don't want Kysa to suffer from my funk. She certainly deserves a happy mommy. Thankfully, her joy is infectious and I can reserve my personal funk for my alone time (ahem, what alone time?).
On last summer's beach vacay, I stood on the beach with one of my best friends and with complete certainty I announced that next summer we'd have a baby boy playing on the beach. I'm now ordering new swimsuits for this summer's trip with no baby in sight. And I can say with complete uncertainty that I'm not sure if baby boy will be on NEXT summer's beach vacation.
And now I feel like a jerk for whining about waiting when our baby and his birth family will have their world torn apart in order to relieve our waiting woes. Welcome to the downward spiral of my mind.
I wish I had an optimistic remark to end on, so....
Thank you for checking in on us...your support means so much.
Namaste,
Allison
Friday, April 13, 2012
Baby E Update
We have the fantastic news to share that Baby E has a forever family!! It's not us, but we couldn't be happier for her and her new family! We are indeed celebrating! Thank you all for praying for her, donating money, and sending her love...please remember her in the weeks and months ahead as her journey will not be an easy one even with a loving forever family.
Baby E touched us, and we will forever be changed by her. She unlocked a room in our hearts we didn't know existed...perhaps another little Ethiopian girl will one day occupy it.
In the meantime...we turn our hope, faith and love to our baby boy. We're soooo ready to meet him.
We are currently officially #11/unofficially #4 on infant boy list
With love and gratitude,
Allison and Fredrik
Baby E touched us, and we will forever be changed by her. She unlocked a room in our hearts we didn't know existed...perhaps another little Ethiopian girl will one day occupy it.
In the meantime...we turn our hope, faith and love to our baby boy. We're soooo ready to meet him.
We are currently officially #11/unofficially #4 on infant boy list
With love and gratitude,
Allison and Fredrik
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