Wordless Wednesday

Flummoxed

What a great word. I didn't know the exact definition so..

According to the MacBook dictionary:

"to greatly perplex or bewilder"

Origin: mid 19th century: to make untidy or confuse.

If I am honest - this might be the perfect word to describe my feelings regarding the actuality of our adoption coming to fruition. From modern day definition working backward to the origin.  In other words - 6 months ago, I may have been bewildered, but today my mind and my thoughts are untidy and confused.
Esthetically displeasing on a good day.
On a bad day - nothing less than heinous.
September 4, 2011 marked one year that we have "officially" been waiting. The real wait begin in February 2010, so all in all, it's been a while. Lately, I vacillate between thinking "we will surely be matched promptly when the courts re-open in October" to "it aint' nevah gonna happen".
While we've been waiting, we've seen some fun. Most recently, we took a trip to Colorado to visit M. parent's for a week. The ladies always have fun on vacation, and this was no exception. Grandma & Grandpa treated us to a spectacular week of activities.
As we drove toward Denver, we gazed at the sky as the clouds transfigured themselves into Deatheaters from Harry Potter as evidenced here:

We took the ladies to have dinner at a local Denver diner that M and I frequented while we were dating - it is a joint we remember fondly and the food did not disappoint: Pete's Kitchen~

 So, Grandma & Grandpa have taken on the responsibility of single-highhandedly offering sustenance to the hummingbird population that takes up residence for a time in the summer around their home. I say highhandedly, because at 9,000 feet, the whole lot is up high. I become borderline obsessed with capturing images of the little chicks - humor me here~

 The image below details just how territorial they become over their sugar water~

As much as I love the sweet little birds, I love the goats more. If you know me at all, you are acquainted with my French roots and how that affects my diet.... Chèvre is on par with water.
There is a goat dairy near my in-laws home and I fully believed it my duty to patrol pay them a visit and partake in the delectables. A benefit of this day and age being the loving care the goats receive. We fed them:

 They kissed us

 We fed them some more...

 They pleaded for more...

 And then - we were able to milk them~

The ladies looked lovely against the big Colorado sky:

One night Grandma and A made meringues with chocolate sauce - YUM!

Another day, we took G & G's jeep up to Cascade Falls~

Then - on to St. Elmo to feed the chipmunks, prairie dogs, squirrels and occasional bird~

We took in Gold Rush Days and finished with a dip in Cottonwood Creek to take the heat off of our feet~

and as the sun came up over another beautiful day, we moved back toward our lives in Iowa~

Beginnings~

 Having been asked on occasions how we were led to adopt, I thought back to the planting of the seed, if you will. While we have thoughtfully considered this path throughout our marriage- the firm foundation was set for me on my very first mission trip.  I have decided to include a journal entry from that trip to Haiti.  We had not been in Iowa very long and we were talking with some friends, who were also members of our church. The talk moved toward another church member who had been traveling for years with others to the same boys home ( a home to former street children ) and I didn't skip a beat, and added that I would love to go and help. I'm not certain how much of a help I was, but it was a life changing trip for me. Reading through this excerpt now, I am aware of so many similarities to the books I have been reading for the last 18 months to prepare for adoption, attachment, bonding to children that come from hard places. The Lord works in mysterious ways, indeed.

*Names changed

March 2008 ~ Haiti

Finally, it was time to go – weeks of talking, preparing, anticipating and now the time was upon us. What time was this, you ask? 2:30 ante meridiem, or O’dark hundred, as I call it.  My husband got up and prayed with and for us as my fellow travelers and I stood in the dim light of the entryway. We climbed into a car full of tubs of goodies for unsuspecting children and sped away into the night. That’s right – the night – O’dark hundred is still the night before the upcoming meridiem if you ask me.
The Omaha airport was surprisingly alert for 4:29 in the morning.  We checked in, entrusted our bins of goods to United Airlines and began the voyage. We changed planes, airlines and terminals in Chicago and arrived in Port-au-Prince after another change of planes in Miami. The sun was shining and there were at least 50 people waiting to offer assistance with our luggage as we stepped out of the airport. The trip to St. Joseph’s home was our first taste of Haitian city life – as least for Cathy* and I.  Lots of people walking through crowded cement streets, lined with cement walls, buildings, roofs and sidewalks.  The wild drivers of the colorful Tap-Taps blow their horns often as locals hop on and off. Folks pile their loads of stuff on top of the pick-ups, vans and flat-bed trucks and there are enough “passengers” to make even the most seasoned officer of the law run screaming from the do-nut shop without even taking their Krispie Kreme to go.  The drivers pass so closely to other vehicles that one might be tempted and easily able to whisper words of comfort to the strangers they nearly become one with.
Reaching the home was such a relief- we were warmly greeted by Michael and a few of the boys and shown to our room to get settled.
Nearly every table was full as the dinner bell rang- there was a group, we found out later they were from Boston, dining next to us and the noise of the city had nothing on them.
Evening hours didn’t diminish city sounds – loads of feral dogs barked through the night and were joined intermittently by confused roosters. Thank the Lord, I prayed, for letting us arrive safely and for those little foam jewels-earplugs! I stuffed those bad boys in and went right to sleep.
Lovely coffee at breakfast the next morning.  After a leisurely meal, we waited for the van that would drive us to the Sisters of Mercy baby hospital. This is the place that had caught my attention most upon learning of Eve’s* previous trips to Haiti. I had been so very excited to be able to help here.  The rooms were filled with rows of cribs and there were lots of people – the Sisters told us it was the visiting hour for parents. Eve, Cathy, and I put on aprons over our skirts and then separated to different rooms to see who needed what.  My first stop was a room with 4 rows of cribs running lengthwise-each identical and every child in this room had on a light green and white gingham smock shirt that tied in the back paired with a cloth diaper that had been twisted between the children’s tiny legs. The twisted diaper didn’t seem to be the most efficient use of the cloth in my humble opinion…mainly because most of the diapers were dry and many of the volunteers were wet.
The little girl who made eye contact with me was about 16 months old and had blisters all over her. Volunteers are not told why the children are in the hospital. This baby knew how to have fun and I chased her all through the hallways and played peek-a-boo to her great delight. Afterward she snuggled in my neck and I rocked with her.  I made my way back to the first  room and held a few small infants, taking turns walking with them and rocking – all of them just melted into me and not one cried until they were placed back into their crib- some seemed to weak to cry. Each room had matching tops for the children, so it was easy to recognize the room when the time came to return your child– the trick being to find the correct crib for the baby you had.  We were able to feed them and I gave a warm mixture of beans, rice and mangos to a little boy while sitting outside on a sofa with other volunteers. I was able to feed the last baby to eat that morning – a gorgeous little girl. She didn’t make a lot of eye contact with me while she was eating, but she was darling. As I went to place her back into her crib, she locked onto my eyes,   I stroked her little cheeks and told her I loved her, just like my Mom told me to.  She reached up with her small hand and placed it on the side of my face while gazing up at me.  That was the moment of connection that made leaving my own children alright – even acceptable.

Who Are You?

We enjoyed a wonderful opportunity yesterday at the International Ethiopian Christian Fellowship Church in Sioux Falls. We found the seminar to be thought provoking and we have been thinking about issues discussed with regard to ethnicity  - Ethiopian vs. "black", culture, religion. How do you see yourself and where does that identity stem from?  Research presented offered that some Ethiopian children found it hard to fit in, they were not accepted by the "African American" black culture, but they didn't feel Ethiopian because they didn't necessarily speak fluently the native language (Amharic for most) and how that affected their identity.  The information gave us a lot to think on as we continue to prepare for the child who will join our family. We will have to make a concerted effort to keep alive the Ethiopian heritage of our child as they assimilate into their American family.  It was noted that many Americans participate in symbolic celebrations of their ethnicity -even 6-7 generations removed from their homeland - for example: St. Patrick's Day for the Irish.  These symbolic celebrations are a way to re-visit a heritage and keep it alive, which is a helpful tool in maintaining a healthy self image of your originating culture.  After the program, we were served a delicious Ethiopian meal and the opportunity to meet other families who would be adopting children or had adopted children from Ethiopia. We were fortunate to be welcomed to a table with a family who has 4 girls and are currently waiting, as are we, to be matched. It was delightful to get to know them over dinner and make the connection to this beautiful family.

As I ponder where I find my own identity, my soul reaches back to New Orleans ~ to the French and Spanish roots of my family.
To the local customs and history of the Crescent City -

The French Quarter, Mardi Gras, music, foods like red beans & rice, gumbo, crawfish,

beignets  and my beloved coffee with chicory.

Even though I only lived there for a few years after my birth, the summers I spent at Meme & Paw Paws house left a deep imprint on the core of my being.  I mainly grew up in Denver and loved that city for all it offered, but my heart was shaped by the  Fleur-de-lis.

It is impossible to know just how and when things imprint on a person. This is a source of comfort and mortification as a parent as we are imperfect in that ( and all ) roles. When I think of my children's futures - I pray that they will touch other lives with love, compassion, respect, humor and leave their own unique prints that transcend time. I hope they remember how it felt to be the children I waited for and loved like I never knew possible - my sweet angel babies.

Marie, Marie, Marie

Did I mention I was ready? 

Spring and her promises of new life are here ...according to the calendar. But seriously, I am still wearing a wool sweater. Inside! In case you are not aware, the main difference between the outside of my house and the inside, is that the wind doesn't blow (as hard) on the inside.

I was told that once the barn swallows arrive in N.W. Iowa that summer is "officially" here. Since I have, personally, witnessed them soaring about for the past few weeks, it must be so. I was also told that once they're here, it won't get really cold again till the Fall. Maybe this flock didn't get the memo about the record low 34 degree frigidness we experienced earlier this week. I too was out of the loop.

I hate it when that happens.

While we have felt a few warm, glorious days, most of them have been rather cool. It is one of my greatest joys to be outside working in my garden and around my yard. I am loathe to admit that I just won't go out there if it is too uncomfortable and chilly- I listen to the Cardinals literally calling my name from the flowering trees, they sing, "Ma-rie, Ma-rie, Ma-rie....

If I don't respond, it sounds like they sing, Bir-die, Bir-die, Bir-die and call in their bird troops, all calling my name, and I really long to bask in that late Spring warmth with them.

Seeing all of the Mamas nesting, preparing for their babies, heightens my own longing.

My paper pregnancy is eight and a half months along - the extra weight of my anxiousness and the swelling of my heart makes it hard to move sometimes. There are times when we are called out of our comfort zone - times when we experience the kind of new growth that can only be born of being uncomfortable.

It is estimated that there are 27 families ahead of us waiting to be matched.

And an estimated 143 million orphans in the world. 

We've been called by God to make it one less.

I'm ready.

Hand in Hand Grant Award

One of the greatest challenges of adoption, especially international adoption is the financial aspect of it. It can become overwhelming just to think about it....the home study, agency fees, the background checks and finger printing, the travel, the ordering of documents from the state, the authentication of the documents by the same state you just ordered the aforementioned documents from, the authorizing of the authenticator of same noted documents....to be certain, the birth certificates, marriage license, etc are validated from every possible angle so that when you see that document, with the raised gold seal, bearing the official signature, notarized, then the notary's seal authenticated - you will not have one shred of doubt, for any reason, that I was, indeed, born.

And that I am valid. ated.

Now that process might seem a tad redundant, but in all honesty, we need to have safe guards in place before moving forward with an adoption. Moving forward entails an enormous amount of faith. We held firmly to the faith that although we did not have an extra $32,000+ tucked away inside the square shoulder pads of my 1985 Perry Ellis blazer ( which could seriously house that much money), that God would provide in every way to enable us to bring a child into our family. To that end, we have applied and were so very blessed to receive a matching grant from Hand in Hand Christian Adoption. Our friends and family will be able to partner with us in our journey and Hand in Hand will match donations up to $2000 allowing us to possibly be awarded a $4,000 ( or more ) grant toward adoption expenses. We have until May 6 to receive donations. Please contact me if you would like more information regarding the details. 

Mapping It Out

When I was younger, taking a trip often meant hauling out maps. They were carefully unfolded and laid out across the table or counter to study the possible routes to your destination. Time was spent looking at the various route options and stop options and of course, utilizing the key - one had to know how to use the key in order to accurately determine how long your travels would be. Discovering funny town names was delightful as a child, wondering what it would be like to live there. The folding up of the map could be an event in and of itself, if it was an older map - care was taken in returning the correct folds into the proper direction to ensure a smooth finish. Of course, all of this unfolding, studying and folding began to create an energy around the trip itself - imagining all of the details and fun that would certainly ensue. All of these images were good - great even, obviously - no one envisions their vacation beginning with a prolonged stop on the side of a steamy Texas highway for an extended puking ordeal. I always had the tendency to forget just how badly motion sickness could grip me. Most trips were to visit MeMe & PawPaw in New Orleans and not one thing could ruin the prize of being with them and my aunt and uncles at the end of the road trip for me. The butterflies that would emerge in my stomach as I packed my little suitcase were more invigorating than a double coffee with chicory from Cafe Du Monde.
As technology careened into the world and seeped into our daily lives, paper maps have taken a backseat to the online sites and GPS systems that can now determine your course from the "start" box, tell you where to stop, what the dining options are, how long it will take you, and when you will arrive at the destination you have entered into the "end" box..
There is one thing missing from all of these travel plans.
God.
When we entered Ethiopia into the "start" box last February, we did so with the firm belief that God led us there.  This journey is unknown and no amount of planning or wishing or studying can change it's course or make it happen faster. We are looking ahead to meeting and bringing a child of God into our family when the time is right. Some stops along the way invoke the butterflies of excitement and some delays drag our hearts down. There are no illusions that the folds of this particular map will fall into place neatly - hoping to bypass the serious frustrations of the recent detours, but I guess it is all part of the voyage. We are guided toward growing our family and praying that all of our paths will be brighter for it. So as we pass mile marker 6 (months) we keep our eyes on the horizon, gazing forward to our new destination.
It my be unknown, but we are sure to be blessed when we arrive.

Coffee Break!

Who doesn't get excited over a great cup of coffee? Sometimes, all I have to do is think about it - either the coffee itself, the friendship and conversation shared over it, the smell from the canister of beans as well as the finished brew. Savoring the delectable and aromatic treat, have you ever pondered it's origin?
A Reader's Digest version goes something like this.....

In the Ethiopian highlands, where the legend of Kaldi, a goatherd, originated, coffee trees grow today as they have for centuries. Though not knowing with certainty, there probably is some truth to the Kaldi legend. It is said that he discovered coffee after noticing that his goats, upon eating berries from a certain tree, became so spirited that they did not want to sleep at night. Kaldi  reported his findings to the abbot of the local monastery who made a drink with the berries and discovered that it kept him alert for the long hours of evening prayer.  Soon the abbot had shared his discovery with the other monks at the monastery, and ever so slowly knowledge of the energizing effects of the berries began to spread.  

We are excited to share that we are participating in a fabulous opportunity to help us with our travel expenses to Ethiopia. Clicking on the link below ( Miller Coffee Store) will bring you directly to our store where there are several Fair Trade and Fair Trade Organic coffees to choose from. $5 from each bag sold through our store will go directly to our travel fund. Just Love Coffee offers a portion from proceeds to go toward a school for older children in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
Miller Coffee Store

One of my favorites sights in the morning~

Mirage

I've not been here for a while....sometimes there just aren't enough hours in the day.
Other days there just aren't enough hours in the day.
Then - there are those days ~ you know the ones... without enough hours, ever.

January 12 of last year - the day the earthquake shook the lives and literal world of so many Haitian souls- marks the day that we began searching for a way to offer ourselves in a helpful way to these wonderful and beautiful people. Working in Haiti had left an imprint on my heart. What we ultimately came to, was to open our family to a child in need. After days of research and calls, it became apparent that adopting a child from Haiti would not be an option in the near future. I continued reading, asking questions, researching for weeks until ultimately finding myself turned toward the East. Africa. Ethiopia to be exact.
Having a few friends who were fabulous and supportive resources (Thank you Alex) we moved ahead to begin the tasks that adoption requires - and the lists seemed endless. And invasive. And with the sort of scrutiny usually reserved for elected officials engaging in wicked and dastardly behavior.

Looking back -almost one year later, I will admit that I fully believed we would have welcomed a child into our family by now.  Instead, we are only 4 months into the waiting period.
Looking ahead - even though it is still the proverbial "mirage in the distance", the glimmer of light I see reflecting, shines a little brighter every day.

We are being still today - it is a snow day. No school. No work, No yoga. Stealing the time to lay in bed with my girls, in our pajamas, under the heavy weight of our coziest blankets to watch a movie. The movie was "UP" - a beautiful story of love, and of two people finding each other in the most unlikely of circumstances. Serendipitous or Providence? I'll let ya know.