Hard to believe it was only a week ago that we packed our bags, grabbed the hands of two little African children and headed home to Sacramento. In many ways, it seems like decades ago. Each day has been so packed with activity and emotion, trying to guide Godebo and Bereket -- and ourselves -- into some sort of new routine that sort of fits with the rest of the family. As our adoption agency representatives told me this week, "It's not 'back to normal;' It's a whole new definition of normal." That's really true and I'm (Esther) trying to rest in those words as I struggle to fit all the pieces together.

The children are doing wonderfully well. Bereket and Godebo are quickly revealing new parts of their personalities as they become comfortable with us and acclimated to our home. Bereket continues to be strong willed and opinionated, but she is also a charmer and easy to laugh. We have figured out how to deal with her pouts over food she doesn't like, toys she has to share and other such 4-year-old traumas. Godebo is packing away his angel wings to become more of a teaser with his sister, sometimes figuring out inventive ways to trick her out of the toy she wants. Imagine that, they are just like other brothers and sisters!

My parents left yesterday, so we are adjusting to two fewer pairs of hands. We now fit tightly but comfortably around our kitchen table -- a nice picture of what our "new normal" will be.

Home at last! Enduring 30+ hours of travel with two young children who don't speak your language and don't even totally trust you is not a task for the faint of heart -- Jeff likened it to running a marathon when you're out of shape -- but we made it, exhausted and overwhelmed but in one piece. The children were troopers throughout the ordeal. They slept quite a bit and played with every last toy in their backpack, not to mention playing with the buttons on the armrest. The only bump was when Bereket started getting tired, then ornery, and finally let us have it with a 55-minute stint of wailing (not crying, mind you, but wailing) right in the middle of turbulance that had us stuck in our seats. I (Esther) think the Ethiopian passengers' eyes were rolling back into their heads from the noise. One even kindly tried to woo Bereket with some Amharic words of comfort, but no luck. Finally the turbulance ended, a flight attendant brought me a dinner (I think I was the first to eat -- she was desperate) and as I started eating with Bereket in my arms she abruptly stopped and proceeded to share my dinner. In fact, I think she ate most of it. We had seen her behave once like this before, so we weren't completely surprised, but it was still painful to endure.

Anyway, overall I'm very proud of Godebo and Bereket. And I'm equally proud of Isabel and Noel, who welcomed their new siblings with open arms and have been doting on them ever since. G and B slept through the night and took naps right on schedule (remarkable, because I'm still totally OFF schedule). We spent our first day just playing together. Some highlights: watching Godebo ride the tricycle around and around and around our backyard deck, happy as a clam; listening to Bereket sing her African songs as well as many rounds of "If You're 'Appy' and You Know It"; teaching the children to play "Duck, Duck Goose" at the park; and watching Isabel and Noel taking care of their brother and sister, reading to them, doing puzzles, helping bathe and dress them.

We know so many of you are praying for us and I must tell you this is carrying us -- truly -- through a beautiful but very stressful time. We knew this would be difficult, that it would be a major change and take lots of energy and patience. But there is nothing that can prepare one for this experience. It is taking absolutely every cell in our bodies to be present for all four children and make sure their needs our met, regardless of how we are feeling. I feel like we're running on pure will and adrenaline, which is not a healthy place to be.

I would like to end by giving a big dose of credit to my parents, who have been holding down the fort and now are holding us up with their help and love. I don't think we'd be able to cope without their support. Thank you, Mom and Dad.

We did it! We completed our first full day of caring for Godebo and Bereket, and it went fine. I think we're ready to take these kiddos home. Today was a day for playing here at the guest house and getting accustomed to the children's routine. I have to say, we have some of the easiest kids in the group, I think. They are happy and compliant children. They climbed into bed with us in the morning, dressed themselves eagerly, ate well and napped at exactly the schedule time. The only gliche was when we tried to wake Bereket at the time designated by the orphanage and she refused to wake up and then wailed for probably 25 minutes when Jeff tried to rouse her by holding her. Our Ethiopian friend, Gigi, picked us up for some siteseeing right in the middle of this, and Bereket quieted down in the car but kept her eyes resolutely shut until Jeff offered both of the children some gum. Then she climbed into my lap and chewed contentedly the rest of the day. Hmmm. We are quickly getting the picture that this little girl has some tricks up her sleeve.
One interesting thing about being in public with our children is that not all Ethiopians are very comfortable with seeing white people adopting Ethiopian children. In fact, we were told not to take the children out of the guest house at all, because the Ethiopian government has asked the agency to keep a low profile. We only broke the rules because Gigi really wanted to show us a few things. But when we asked her about this issue, she confessed that she, too, gets very sad when she sees the children leaving the country. She understands that this is necessary, in some sense, because the country cannot provide for the orphans and the poor. But it still makes her uncomfortable. I guess that makes us feel a bit guilty -- or if not guilty, certainly somber.
Anyway, the children are asleep, and so is Jeff since he is not feeling too hot (the beginnings of a cold, I think). Tomorrow allows more time for play, as well as packing. Then we all meet one more time with an official from the orphanage, who will give us all our paperwork. As of 10 p.m., we'll be on the plane and heading home -- 31 hours of travel, I think. Ugh. But there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and we're very ready to get home, settled and back in the company of those we love.

t is Tuesday evening in Addis Ababa and I'm forcing myself to stay awake because it's too early for bed. But we are both exhausted from a very emotional day.
Today was the day we took Bereket and Godebo into our care. It started with a ceremony where the nannies and other children at the care center had a chance to say goodbye to those leaving with their new parents. The ceremony was really lovely, with the social workers presenting each family with a card written by the nannies to each child. The school-age children sang a few songs, and then each child had their hand print pressed onto a piece of paper to go in some sort of display. Throughout this ceremony, we could tell something was wrong with Godebo. He was very serious and sad. All the spark of joy we had seen in him throughout the week was gone. Finally, when we were served cake and soda and sat with the children in our laps, Godebo began to cry, first softly and then harder and harder. When it was time to board the bus, he resisted. We were not exactly surprised, because we assumed the children would grieve in some way at some time. But we were a bit worried that we would have to drag him on the bus in this state. The nannies, teachers and social workers gathered around him, trying to comfort him. You can tell they love him so much. And then suddenly he came to us and boarded the bus, still crying but silent and stoic. He is such a kind, gentle boy. Our hearts broke to know that he was so sad and afraid.
Thankfully, Godebo cheered up a bit when we got to the guesthouse. We ate lunch together, traveled to the U.S. Embassy to finish our paperwork, and spent the rest of the day playing. The children seem mostly happy, though they get worried when we leave their site. They try very hard to please us and to practice their English, which mostly consists of "how do you do," parts of the body and numbers/letters. I think they understand even more, because they obey us very well. They went to bed without fuss, but looking weary and a bit sad. We are completely exhausted and ready to come home. But we know these next few days of consistent caring for them will be helpful in gaining their trust.

On Monday we had a chance to have an extended time with our kids. We brought them back to the guest house along with all the other kids and families and a great deal of fun ensued. All these kids know each other because they have been in the same orphanage now for some time. It's great fun to watch them interact. Many of us will be on the same plane ride back to the States so we think that may help with the transition...having some more familiar faces in the crowd.
This morning we are off to the U.S. Embassy to make it all official. After that no turning back.
We want to say that we have really felt covered by the prayers of so many during our time here. Though we won't go into detail at this point, there have just been many instances where it seems God's hand has been in the mix, in big and small ways. Though we can always chalk these things up to coincidence, we believe God has been guiding us along the way, answering prayers as we go. Mostly we feel that with our children. The match seems to us to have been divinely guided for several reasons.
Thank you for your prayers and support. They mean more to us than you may realize.

I'm awake at 3:30 a.m. to snag the computer. Two guest houses and a large office share one dial-up internet account, so it's hard to find a time when the computer is available. What do you know? 3:30 is free!
I wanted to tell you a bit about the rest of the "crew" adopting children this week. As happens in emotional, intense situations, the group has become good friends and enjoy each other's company. Just a quick rundown:
*We have two families who have grown boys (15 and up) and have come to Ethiopia to find a daughter to complete their family. Both were fortunate to bring their older sons with them so the young men are getting to experience these early moments of bonding as they rock, cuddle and play with their baby sisters. When they are not doing this, they watch a lot of sports TV. :) Great, great families. I admire their determination to "start over" with an infant and to engage their sons in the process.
*Several wonderful Easterners, one couple from Massachusetts who is adopting a baby girl and toddler boy, one from Pennsylvania are adopting a baby boy, and one from Florida who already have a biological son (age 5) who is here with us; they are adopting a 4 year old boy. Then a fun couple from Germany -- Americans who are working in the opera in Germany for a couple of years. They are colorful and entertaining -- as you might imagine with opera people. They are adopting two little girls, ages 2 and 4 I think.
This group is highly educated -- at least 4 PhDs and more Masters than I can count. Makes for great discussion. We have a fun time together and especially enjoy the light heartedness that the teenagers and kindergartner brings.
Today we will pick up our children after breakfast to come to the guest house for a morning of play and a lunch. This will be our first test without any nannies around to translate. That will be both freeing and terrifyiing. Suffice it to say my Ethiopian vocabulary cheat sheets are at the ready. For example: "Shumma?" That means: "need to go peepee?" These are survival skills, people!!
In the afternoon, we are going shopping with our Ethiopian friend, Gigi, touring the town a bit, and lastly having dinner again with the Patriarch (Pope) of the Ethiopian Orthodox church. Should be a full day. We are still quite tired from jetlag and long days, but the adrenaline returns each morning to get us through. So far no major stomach problems, although we don't feel at the top of our game.
I'm looking forward to some big hugs in a few hours here, when we'll see G and B again. They are very generous with hugs and kisses and always yell out "mommy!" "daddy!" when they see us! They keep us very close to their sides and make sure no other children get too much attention ("MY family!" they tell the intruder) -- well, actually that's mostly Bereket, who is a spitfire). Godebo is much more patient and gentle. They are quite a pair!

We had a very moving day as we traveled four hours south to the region where our children were born. In the town of Hosanna, all the families who have relinquished kids through CHSFS (our agency) gather to meet us (the adoptive parents). One by one, we are ushered into private rooms with an interpreter to talk with the family member who comes.
We were so honored to meet in person Daniel, the oldest brother of Godebo and Bereket. Daniel was the one who made the hard decision to give G and B up for adoption when he realized he could not longer feed them and their four other siblings. There is so much I could tell you about this time, but there were two things that especially stood out. When we asked Daniel what we want G and B to remember about their birth family, he said he wants them to know that all their brothers and their sister are "uneducated" (his word) and his greatest wish for them is that they would have a chance to be educated and become productive and good people. He really sees no hope for the others to break out of their situation. (He is now 18 and supporting two of the siblings plus a grandmother -- mostly by doing odd jobs and farming a very small piece of land.) We were very touched by his maturity and selflessness. He seems like an intelligent and kind person, and we are so sorry we cannot help him in any other way. (Legally not possible)
The other wonderful thing we found out is that Daniel became the spiritual leader of his family after their parents were gone -- he even painted a cross and Bible verses on the walls of their hut -- and he was so moved to know we are Christian, as their family is. We made sure Daniel knew that we would raise the children to know Jesus Christ, that we would pray for Daniel and the rest of the family, and that we would someday meet again in heaven. He seemed relieved by this and even said he sees us as his "parents."
After all the families had met with the birth families, we had a very lovely ceremony where the birth families prayed, lit a candle and passed it to the adoptive parents. Then we said a prayer for them and had a chance to say goodbye. It was very emotional for everyone, and difficult for some. But I believe it was an important rite of passage that will transition all of us into this new chapter of our lives.

We spent a Saturday full of activities. This morning we had a great opportunity to meet with all the people who have been caring for our children these past months - the social worker, nanny, nurse and doctor. All of our questions were answered. We also were able to preview a video made for us by the organization. It includes footage of the hometown (village) where our children were born, video of their house (inside and out), and an intereview with their oldest brother who cared for them as long as he could. This is an increbile gift for us to receive and to pass on to Bereket and Godebo at the proper time. As an adopted child myself (Jeff), I know how valuable it will be to know some of their hertiage and background. It will also provide them with the option of one day returning to Ethiopia and even meeting some of their family.
This afternoon we had a brief visit to a home our organization sponsors which places children with AIDS up for adoption. In the ten years of their existence, they have found adoptive homes for 200 children with AIDS, a remarkable number when you consider how few families will adopt these children and how much red tape there is to see an adoption like this go through. The children were full of life in this place, just beautiful children.
A tour of the city this afternoon gave us our first glimpse of some of the poverty people face here. To see beggars, many of them severly crippled, lying on the street with no hope for any improvement in their life and completely dependent upon the generosity of passerbys, we were reminded of what it must have been like in Jesus' day. And to think about the reaction when Christ touched and healed one of these people, it's hard to imagine the joy. Here, it seems as if it would take similar touch from Christ to bring change. I suspect that we have only seen the tip of the iceberg.

Friday, October 10

After a long ride across the pond (Ethiopian Airlines isn't bad!) we safely arrived Thursday evening in Addis Ababa. Upon arrival, we were met by a friend of our friend, Abba, the Ethiopian priest we know from our church. She met us at the gate with flowers and a sign that said "Pastur Jefhe" (apparently the Ethiopian spelling!). She immediately told us that the Patriarch (The Ethiopian Orthodox pope) was waiting for us for dinner - probably the first and last time we will make a pope wait for us to eat! Though exhausted and not looking our best, we went with our new friend, Gigi, and had dinner with His Holiness and about 20 of the bishops. He is a very friendly and gracious man - it helps that we graduated from the same seminary. It was quite a privilege to go and meet with him that way. We hope to have dinner with him again on Monday.
Today was a day we will not soon forget. This morning we were taken to the school where our children were waiting for us. We waited in a room while, one by one, parents were called out to meet their children for the first time. We were the last called. We walked into a small classroom with only five students. Immediately we knew which children were ours. They ran to greet us with hugs and kisses - Bereket (our daughter) a bit more reticent than her brother, Godebo, but also very affectionate. We spent the morning playing in the playground with some toys we brought. The beach ball was a big hit! Almost from the start, they called us "Daddy" and "Mommy" - very touching.
We were thrilled to see that they have been receiving marvelous care. Their teachers and nannies are extraordinarily loving and compassionate with them. We can tell, actually, that it will be hard for them to see these children leave. They have really bonded. Several of them, when they found out that who our children were, told us that we were very blessed. It seems that Bereket and Godebo have worked their way into the hearts of their caregivers.
Though we've only had first impressions, it seems that Godebo is very affectionate. He also really wants to please the adults around him - apparently he's a very obedient little guy. Bereket is a also very vivacious - we also suspect that we see a little spark of mischief in her eyes (not necessarily such a bad thing). Though we have been concerned about how this transition will go (and though there will likely be challenges ahead), these two kids seem very ready to come and join our family. We can't wait to see how much fun it will be to see them meet and come to love Isabel and Noel.
Neither of us knows quite how to articulate this experience quite yet. Perhaps we never will. We continue to see God's hand in all of this, especially the way he seems to have matched us with these children. Mostly, it's faith right now. The prayers and support and love we sense from our family and friends while we are here is tangible. More tomorrow...

A big blog hug goes to our friend Steve B., who taught me how to add this oh-so-cool African background to our blog. It looks so, so much better. People like me are pretty awed by people like Steve who speak that strange computer dialect. It's all Amharic to me (that's an Ethiopian joke for you; Amharic is Ethiopia's national language). Thank you, Steve!

OCTOBER 3, 2008

We are counting down the days now. Our bedroom floor is covered with piles of clothes, toys for the kids, medicines we just might need while we are there and donations for the orphanage. It's chaos! But today I chose to chaperone Noel's field trip to a local playhouse because I'm not sure I'll be able to do too many other field trips this year.

Anyway, this afternoon I got this wonderful e-mail from a couple we met a couple of weeks ago who live in Elk Grove, just south of Sacramento. They are in Ethiopia right now picking up their 3-year-old son, so they blessed me with this message. My heart is warmed knowing we are getting such sweet kids. We are truly blessed.

Esther,
I wanted to let you know that we met your children today. We were fortunate enough this afternoon to play with all 10 children in teh care center who are between the ages of 3-6. Your children are beautiful! They are well behaved and just waiting for you guys to come get them. I can't spell their names and can't remember if the B or G is older but I wanted to give you an idea of their size. B, the girl is just a little smaller that G. They both were wearing size 4 and 5T clothing. There were very happy and we gave them lots of hugs and kisses. You are very lucky.

OCTOBER 1, 2008

We are one week away from traveling to Ethiopia. It seems to be the stage of “last times” for Jeff. “This is the last weekend it will be just the four of us,” he said last weekend. (My parents arrive Saturday.) Then this week: “These are the last dinners where it will be just the four of us.” I tease him about this, but I know he is right. It is a time of “last times” just before we begin a season of “first times.” And that is always hard, and sentimental, and a bit sad. I would rather not dwell on this side of things, more comfortable to keep myself in denial and “cup half full” mode. But perhaps it is good to acknowledge and mark this time as well – a little rite of passage before we all move into a new stage of life.

SEPTEMBER 20, 2008

I finally got to speak to Judy, who adopted Bereket’s friend, Samra. She reiterated all the comments in her e-mail and said both Godebo and Bereket seem very “well adjusted.” “Some of the children at the orphanage are more needy than others, or more clingy, but both your children seem great, very well adjusted.” Judy said Samra is adjusting beautifully and she believes our children will do the same. I sure hope so. We have taken so many classes and read so many book and articles about adjustment/bonding issues that I almost began to expect the worst. It’s nice to hear another side.

After we spoke, Judy sent me this photo of Bereket and Samra. I adore it, 1) because Bereket is smiling and 2) it is such a classic girlfriend picture.

SEPTEMBER 15, 2008

I received another e-mail from Judy, the other adoptive mom who contacted me, who is now back in the States with Samra. Here is what she said:

I really can't tell you enough about your daughter. She is a beautiful and wonderful child. I also remember your boy, but I didn't realize they were siblings. In any event, both children are supper great. They played well with the others, (some did not!) and seemed very well adjusted. You wait until you meet them. Bereket is absolutely the cutest thing. The picture you have does not nearly do her any justice. She has lovely little curls and the sweetest dark eyes....just sweet, sweet, sweet. You will love her the minute you meet her. I just couldn't help thinking while the children were playing how lucky someone was going to be to have her in their family. Well, please give me a call, and if I have a more current picture of her, I will send it. I have yet to go through my pictures.

SEPTEMBER 9, 2008

Something very special happened today. I woman who is currently in Ethiopia picking up her child from the orphanage contacted me through the forum. Apparently, her daughter is friends with Bereket. Here is what she said:

Esther,
My daughter, Samra, was best friends with your daughter, Bereket here at the orphanage. Let me tell you how wonderful your daughter is. She is so sweet and beautiful. She is kind and quiet but very social. You will just love her. When they had the ceremony for the children to leave, she gave my daughter the biggest hug and kiss. Please know what a special little girl you are receiving, and she is healthy and well cared for. I live in York, PA, near Washington, D.C.

I am tearful with joy. So many times I have stared at those little faces in the pictures and wondered what they are like, willed them to be nice, sweet, open to loving another mother, dad, sister and brother. These are not infants, I recognize, they are little people with formed personalities that have been shaped by their own family, their genetics, their experiences and, sadly, their pain. That’s why this e-mail moved me so much. It was that little light saying, “Don’t worry. Your daughter is wonderful. She is going to be fine.”

I can’t wait to speak to this mom when she returns to the U.S., to thank her for this gift and hear more about our Ethiopian children.

JULY 18, 2008

Bereket and Godebo are officially ours! We found out today that we made it through the Ethiopian court without a hitch. We also received new photographs of the children, taken for their birth certificate. They look good, so sweet, but still so serious. No smiles yet. I’m sure all of this must be terribly confusing to them. I can’t imagine what they think is going on. Hopefully the orphanage is doing a good job explaining it to them, as best they can.

The children’s hair is growing back now, although it is still very short. When I posted the photos on the CHSFS forum, someone commented, “They sure look like brothers!” No, no. Bereket is so clearly a girl to me – her face is more delicate than Godebo, her eyes bigger, her chin more defined. But I guess none of this matters. We have two stunning children – to add to the two stunning kiddos we already have – and we are thrilled to be parents once (twice) again.

JUNE 27, 2008

We received word that we have a court date set for July 18. This is very good news, because the Ethiopian courts close down in August and September for a holiday, so we were hoping to slip through the process before that shut-down begins. Everything is proceeding smoothly. We are so excited!

June 12, 2008

There are many points in adoption where the practical and the ideological seem at odds. Today our task was to have the children’s medical information reviewed by a pediatrician. Ideologically, they were ours, and we were fairly certain we would take them no matter what the doctor reported. But, of course, there’s always the question of “what if…”

At the earliest stages of adoption, parents fill out an exhaustive checklist noting which medical conditions they will accept in the child they seek to bring home. Will you take a child with dental problems? Learning challenges? Missing limbs? A cleft palate? It’s a grueling task, ridiculous in a way, but crucial. It guarantees that, in theory, no child will be matched with a parent who hasn’t said he is prepared, on paper at least, to deal with the child’s medical conditions. And, in the vast majority of international adoption cases where children are coming from third world conditions, there are medical conditions, large and small.

In our case, the children seem remarkably healthy. They are small for their ages, probably indicative of poor nutrition. Godebo has small scars over his eyelids, which we learned is a typical way rural families in Ethiopia deal with an eye infection, making an incision in the eyelid to drain the fluid. Needless to say, it’s a stark reminder that these children have experienced a much different life until now. The biggest concern is their bloodwork, which shows both being anemic. Our pediatrician reassures us that this is probably caused by malnutrition, but it could also be indicative of sickle cell anemia, a serious blood condition not uncommon among Africans. Can we have them tested for sickle cell? No, we find out, the test is not available in Ethiopia. No matter, we tell our adoption specialist. We’ll take them.

June 11, 2008

Today I laid eyes on our children for the first time. How different this moment is from the first glimpses of my two biological children in grainy ultrasound photos, where one couldn’t tell a knee from an elbow. These children are fully formed, in living color: Godebo, age, 6, and Bereket, age 4, from Ethiopia. They have already experienced so much: loss, grief and hunger. They have names, language, a culture so different from our own. Yet, I feel as though they are already part of my family, as dear and precious and foreign as my birth children were when they were first laid in my arms. Such is the miracle of adoption. The foreign becomes familiar, and the tragic makes room for joy.