My Sweet Ethiopian

 I've been wanting to have Z's pictures taken in his traditional Ethiopian clothes for awhile now and when a friend came out of photography retirement for one day (she did an amazing fundraiser for her aunt) I jumped on the chance to finally get these done. 

 She did the most perfect job capturing his personality...

 his charm

 his energy

his silliness

 a little bit of cheesy

and a whole lot of sweetness.

Thank you, Cari! These are a gift.

Sending our Love

Sending our love all the way to Ethiopia. Celebrating a birthday and the mother that gave life. 

And praying that he will understand how deeply he was loved.

                                 That he is loved.

A child born to another woman calls me mommy. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege are not lost on me. Jody Landers

Adoption has given Mother's Day new meaning for me. This day is no longer just about honoring my own mother and receiving sweet handprints and homemade gifts from my kiddos. It is impossible to approach this day without thinking about the most sacrificial decision that a mother had to make. This year mother's day falls on Z's birthday. A year after bringing him home and I'm still trying to reconcile. I'm not sure I ever will. Not a day goes by that she doesn't enter my mind. Not a day that we don't pray for his first mama. The mama that gave him life and the mama that believed the best alternative for him was to be raised by another family. A family thousands of miles away and the almost certainty that she would never see him again. I just can't even go there. This was what she felt best for him. She saw no other options. Can you just sit with that for a minute? I've sat with it a lot and I can tell you that every time I come out on the side of selfishness. There is most definitely tragedy in adoption.

Z's adoption has opened my eyes to the enormity and complexity of orphan care. Adoption is just one small piece of a much larger puzzle. It is hard, it is beautiful and in many cases it is the only and best option. But knowing what I know now my heart is burdened to do more before a mother or father ever have to make that decision. I am so thankful for our son and cannot imagine our lives without him. It is truly a privilege to raise him but when I hear that sweet "mama" leave his lips I see her face every.single.time. 

Last year Jen Hatmaker did an excellent series on orphan care and this quote so resonated with me:

It is unacceptable that poverty makes orphans. That is a gross injustice at the root of these astronomical numbers. If you must relinquish your child because you cannot feed, educate, or care for him, the international community should rise up and wage war against that inequity. Every family deserves basic human rights, and I should not get to raise your child simply because I can feed him and you can’t.

I don't have answers. I'm just stumbling through and praying that God continues to break our hearts and open our eyes. It was not coincidence that circumstances aligned the way they did in Ethiopia and I was able to look into the eyes and hold the mother of our son. It was Providence.  Today on Z's birthday and mother's day I am especially thankful for the beautiful mother that gave him life. 

                               

Photo Albums

When it comes to baby books, scrapbooks, photo albums and the like: I stink. I start out with the greatest of intentions but so far the best documenting I've managed to do is this blog. A few weeks ago Sam and I had to go hunting through the photo albums for a baby picture he could use for his 8th grade yearbook. I was so thankful he was born in the era when we actually developed pictures and put them in an album. The three littles are going to be up a creek when we have so search every disk, hard drive and shutterfly to find their pictures.

 

Z and the selfie

 

We have a couple little albums laying around the house that I've put together for birthdays or Father's Day. Since Z has been home I have yet to make a new album. But that is soon to change.

Recently he's been bothered by his absence in the albums. I'm not sure it's the lack of pictures of himself (because he's in frames all over the house) but much deeper. He's piecing timelines together and he's grieving that he hasn't always been here with us. At first he would just ask "how come I'm not in this picture, mama?" I would explain that he wasn't born yet and show him a recent picture. This kiddo, though, he's very bright and pretty soon that explanation was cutting it.

 We are moving on to explaining that during some of those times, even though he was born, he was still in Ethiopia. He doesn't care for that answer either. Some of our conversations are so heartbreaking. I'm cautious of oversharing but needless to say he is working through some hard stuff and figuring out how this all pieces together. We are working hard to help foster a love for his home of birth. We always want him to have a connection and be proud of both his families and countries. These are tricky waters to navigate.

He is only 3. So little to make sense of this all. Most days I can't make sense of it. But he's asking questions and we're answering. He's sharing his feelings and we're doing our best to understand and to guide him to a soft heart.

He has made such tremendous growth in the past year. Both physically and emotionally. The striking change between these pictures almost sucks the air out of me. Because when I look at them I am reminded of the years we missed before. Before 2 1/2 we have no pictures, no memories. No baby books or baby keepsakes for us to hold onto and so many questions left unanswered. These are the hard parts of adoption. While there is so much joy it is not without loss on the other side. So we continue to muddle our way through and hope and pray... and pray some more that we are giving him what he needs. But most importantly that we're pointing him to the One and only that will fill those missing pieces.

One year

One year home together. The last couple weeks I've spent a lot of time reflecting on this past year and on the beginnings of our family of seven. I need to spend some time sharing some of those first moments. Moments I don't ever want to forget.

 

There were so many emotions bubbling over in the minutes before meeting you. I will never forget the butterflies and impatience I felt as we waited for the special mothers to bring you to the guest house. Peeking through windows to try and catch a glimpse of you. And there you were, sweet boy. Oh so much tinier than I imagined. In your grey and orange striped shirt and swimming trunks that barely stayed put. It was morning playtime in the courtyard and all the big kids were running wild. One of them spotted us through the window and they all began to scream "Zelalem, Zelalem" because all the kids know when it's someone else's turn to meet their families. You looked up and that moment and face will be forever frozen in my mind. Daddy and I felt like we were breaking the rules that we had peeked at our gift early. We ran back downstairs and waited again for one of the adults to bring you over but it was a darling friend of yours, a little girl waiting for her parents to return, that brought you to the front door and introduced us to our son for the first time.

 There were immediate hugs and kisses but I could feel the trepidation in your little body and I wonder if you could feel mine? We held each other close and I couldn't get enough of your tiny hands wrapped tight around my neck. I was so thankful for bubbles and balloons and all the activities lending themselves to help us bond. Our time with you wasn't long enough and packing to go home without our new son was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. We prayed and left with the hope we would be back soon and the comfort that you were being dearly loved by all the precious family at Hannah's Hope. And God answered our prayers and those of so many storming the gates on your behalf. We cleared embassy in a record 28 hours and mama couldn't get on that plane fast enough.

Our time in Ethiopia was good, it was hard and we were in deep getting to know one another. I fell in love with your country and while I was ready to get home and be a family I grieved leaving Ethiopia and taking you from everything you'd ever known. There are days that grief is still very real-for both of us.

Two airlines, a whole lot of hours flying and a very long and impatient wait at the immigration counter and we were finally together at last.

And here we are, one year later.

 Sweet boy, wild boy, loud boy, smiley boy, what did we ever do without you? You keep us on our toes and tickle us all with your contagious laugh and free spirit. You are such a smart little guy and have mastered the English language. You are eager to learn alongside your sisters and love to join any game they are playing. You are learning about Jesus and everyday we remind you that God made you so very special.

You are adored. You are cherished.

And we are SO proud to be your family.

 

Five

Five months home with our little man. Crazy how fast time goes by and yet at times it feels like a lifetime. As our social worker says, "all things considered" this kiddo is doing amazing! He is such a happy, joyful, go-with-the-flow kid and almost always has a smile on his face.

This past week he joined the entire family for a week of VBS. He did amazing and far exceeded our expectations for how he would handle the crazy week and how well he would do with his group. It helped having big sis as his leader and mom and dad around every corner but he did a great job participating and even made it the entire morning with his group one of the days.

To see him with his siblings you'd think they'd been together their whole lives. There is no shortage of love, hugs, snuggling and of course fighting. I knew we were a true family when the arguing began. Last week, in the midst of snuggling, Jo turned to me and said I'm so glad you went to Africa to get my little brother, I love him so much. Have I mentioned adoption rocks?

This past week Z has expressed some hard stuff about Ethiopia and we have experienced some deep grief. It is heartbreaking and leaves me feeling so helpless. His heart is missing his first home and his first mama. I did the only thing that made sense and cried with him and prayed over him. There is something in your mama gut that knows the difference between a tired, frustration cry and a cry that comes from deep within that is filled with mourning. As difficult as it is we aren't going to shy away from talking about Ethiopia or listening to music or looking at pictures. We pray this helps him work through the grief and keeps him connected to his heritage. It's hard to even comprehend how a three year old can articulate the loss as he does. He amazes me every single day.

Oh what a ham this sweetie his!

This kiddo, he inspires me everyday. His strength and courage are far beyond what they should be at just three years old. He is teaching me and I am being stretched in motherhood like never before. But I wouldn't trade one moment of it. Okay, maybe just a little less whining.... but it's all worth it when I see this cutie pie smile and do a little dance.