Dec
04
This is a photo of Moe being held by our friend, Corinne. We met Corinne and her husband, Jason, days after we received our referral at one of our Ethiopia adoption group gatherings. Come to find out, they were traveling in a mere few days to get their son and daughter and they were so kind to ask if we wanted some pictures taken of Moe.
We were absolutely over the moon when we received their email that contained a whole bunch of photos they’d taken. These photos meant so much to me. They allowed me a sense of relief because my baby looked so healthy. And my baby looked so happy. And I could finally breath. Corinne also wrote that Moe and her son, Jaxson, were cribmates. So, get a load of this, Moe’s first cribmate lives approximately three miles from our house. How crazy is that?! Talk about a small world…
Dec
03
A funny thing happened during the finalizing stages of my agency quest for Big Brother. I found another agency that allowed adoptions out of birth order, so I gave them a ring to request an information packet. A nice lady answered the phone and I explained to her that we had already completed one adoption from Ethiopia and we would like to adopt again, this time an older child. She then asked me if we had any experience with older children, and to be quite honest, I was a little caught off guard by her question. I stammered out a no response and then asked her if that was a prerequisite with their agency when adopting an older child. She explained that while it wasn’t a prerequisite, per se, it was something they liked to see.
Now, I completely understand that an older child adoption brings a whole different set of challenges and should not be taken lightly; however, what made me chuckle to myself is that nobody asked us that question when we were interviewing agencies to adopt an infant. And believe me, as first time parents with no experience, we didn’t know what the hell we were doing with Moe!
We laugh at it now, but seriously, when Jason and I were about to walk out of Enat Alem with Moe, I thought for sure somebody was going to stop us dead in our tracks and say, “You cannot take this child! You don’t know how to take care of a baby!” I kept looking behind me to make sure nobody was coming after us, but surprisingly, nobody stopped us. Can you believe we got away with him?
I love my mil, Rhonda, dearly. In fact, I love her so much that if she weren’t my mil, I would want to be friends with her. But make no mistake about it, when we asked her to accompany us to Ethiopia, it was not only because of our deep love for her, it was because we knew diddly squat about babies and we were scared to death! She came with experience and that was beyond comforting to us.
I don’t know if it’s because we’ve now got almost two years of parenting under our belts, but I’m not nearly as terrified about adopting Big Brother. I know we’ve still got a ton of reading and a ton of information gleaning yet to complete, but I feel much less anxious this time around. I know, talk to me after we receive our referral and we’ll see just how less anxious I am…
Nov
30
You mean this is the last day of November? Already??
Even with all of the picture posts, this NaBloPoMo was not easy. At all. However, I’m happy I did it. And even happier that most of my favorite bloggers decided to do it, too. I’ve been incredibly spoiled this past month with some really fantastic reading and viewing. I certainly hope y’all are not too burned out from it, because the thought of my Bloglines going into hibernation with no new posts popping up is about enough to send me into a serious withdrawal mode.
Next up, December. We’ve got a whole lot going on this month and I have a feeling that it’s going to whiz right by us. I’m already getting a little stressed out thinking about everything that needs to be done before our holiday travels. Ah, the hustle and bustle.
We’ve discovered that while Moe may not like Santa, he’s somewhat keen on the holiday music. The other day while we were at Radio Shack, Moe heard Santa Baby on one of the fancy schmancy HD radios. He now sings Santa Baby, ad nauseum, but it goes a little something like this:
Santa a baby, Santa a baby, Santa a Baby
SantaababySantaababySantaababySantaababySantaababy
We received a postcard in the mail from a local Christmas tree farm that included a picture of Santa on it along with their trees. Moe found the card, picked it up and studied it intently. From the look on his face, it was obvious that he recognized that man in the red suit. He then looked up at me and said, “Momma, Miles crying.”
I’m going to end this post, this last post of November post, with a public service announcement. If the movie, Precious, is playing in a theater near you, get thee self to that theater and see this movie. You can thank me later.
And I’m out.
Nov
29
I belong to a lot of adoption groups, and for the sheer entertainment value of some of the flaming wars that go on, I don’t see myself leaving any time soon. Yet this one sentence that another member posted really rubbed me the wrong way and made me come “this” close to starting a flame war myself. It went something like, we found our next two kids on a list. Reading it made me think of that time when I found that great balsamic vinegar on the top shelf of aisle 7 at the Publix.
Now I realize that I’m the one with the problem here and I was reading it the wrong way. The group member was referencing a waiting child list, and believe me, I have nothing but the highest regard for people who adopt children from these lists. It just seems so bizarre to “pick” your kids. I was accustomed to the other way, you know, you’re matched with your child/children that were meant to be yours kind of way. Finding, choosing, call it what you want, your child/children from a list just didn’t feel right to me.
We have been dragging our feet with adoption #2. At some point in the summer we decided 1) We definitely wanted to adopt again from Ethiopia and 2) We wanted to adopt an older boy. Once that was decided, I contacted our old consultant and asked if our agency would allow us to adopt out of birth order. Unfortunately they wouldn’t, so I then scurried the internets looking for agencies that would allow it. I requested and received packets of information from the agencies I liked and that’s where we stand. No decision has been made as to what agency we’re using and no checks have been written. Yet. It seems like I keep waiting for the perfect time to start, and in all honesty, there will never be a perfect time. Life is busy and life with a toddler is even busier. And let’s be real, I am the one that will take care of the entire paperchase, just like the two paperchases before it. So, I’ve just got to take the bull by the horns and get this thing going.
Something happened several weeks ago that kind of lit a little fire under my ass to start the chase. I received an email from our old agency that included a file with their waiting children. I opened the attachment, and just like that group member I mocked earlier, I said to Jason, “I found our son on this list.” He kind of rolled his eyes at me and walked over to the computer with a cynical look, took a gander at the five year old boy, then said, “Call our agency and see if they’ll let us adopt him.”
I was afraid to call the agency. Afraid that I would hear exactly what I heard months before – we do not allow out of birth order adoptions. So I never called. But I saved this little boys photo to my desktop and I would look at him. Every day. He could absolutely be our son. I saw it. I felt it.
Last week, I received another email from our agency revealing that another family had requested this little boy. I felt like crying. This was a great thing. A really, really great thing. This little boy was going to have a new family. He was going to be adopted. Yet I still felt like crying.
The fire under my ass feels even hotter now. It’s time to pick our agency. It’s time for our son.
