The Family Blog

a new blog & an “announcement”

Wed, 2 Jun 2010 23:11:48 -0400

a new “status” When we first began our old blog, we were two young marrieds (muffle your laughter, please) with a passion for international travel and adventures together, waiting for our son to come home from Ethiopia. We're now a family of three (with a fun surprise announcement - the photo above is a little hint!), and the old blog name doesn't quite fit anymore. The new blog will be a combination of postings on our family life with our adorable son A, the pursuit of our second adoption, our love for Ethiopia, and our musings as we contemplate issues like orphan care and international adoption.
a new blog So - we have changed blog names and formats! Please visit us at www.ofshamrocksandpineapples.blogspot.com from here on out! The name is a semi-witty veiled reference to a combination of our last names. We're switching blogs to give our family a little more privacy - on the new blog, there will be no more listing of our first and last names - this is our way of protecting our family's privacy without having to go to a password-protected site. Plus, with an easier blogging platform, I promise to do my best to update more frequently!

Mother’s Day - 2010

Sun, 9 May 2010 00:41:05 -0400

 Mother’s Day. For several years, this holiday has been a bittersweet day for me. When we first began our adoption process, there were some parallels to what (I would assume) being pregnant is like. Like a pregnancy, the anticipation of meeting our baby for the first time and holding him was ever-present during our wait. I would often find myself daydreaming about holding him in my arms and rocking him to sleep.

But, with a pregnancy there is a due date to anticipate, a finite end, a specific homecoming to plan on. With adoption, there are no such dates (or even months) to plan on. There were so many days when he seemed to be so close to coming home to us, and also so far away. What seems to be certain can shift and change without any warning. The effect that this wreaks on the emotions can’t be underestimated.

As we waited, each Mother’s Day (and Father’s Day for Matt) was a reminder that our son wasn’t home yet. Last year was especially difficult, because it seemed that we were so close but we still had no idea when we would actually hold our son. We knew who he was - our sweet Amanuel - but we didn’t know when he would be home. Mother’s Day was on May 10, and our first court date was May 19. We celebrated Mother’s Day in 2009 because it was important for me to tell myself that YES - I was a mother! Amanuel wasn’t in my arms yet, but he was no less my son because of the distance between us. Still, a Mother’s Day without him was hollow and empty. I hoped and prayed that we would pass our court date and celebrate an unofficial Mother’s Day in a short time.

And then, when we failed court nine days later, we were devastated. But in the midst of our pain, we chose to trust our Father. The verse that continually spoke to us was Psalms 71:14-16.
 "But as for me, O God, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteousness, of your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure. I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O Sovereign Lord; I will proclaim your righteousness, yours alone." Psalm 71:14-16

This Mother’s Day, our son is home. I rocked him to sleep this very night, and although he was squirming much more than he did in my daydreams, it wasn’t any less sweet. Every day, I am brought nearly to my knees by my love for him, and my thankfulness to our Father God whose “mighty acts” brought him home to us. We praise God for His righteousness and goodness to us.

This Mother’s Day, I imagine that I won’t be able to sleep in, because our little guy is our 7:00 morning wake up call. I probably will spend a great deal of the day chasing him around the house to pry whatever contraband he is playing with, as I usually do. I’ll be changing diapers and cleaning up peanut butter and honey sandwich wedges off the floor (they always fall face down, of course!). I’ll be watching a Curious George episode that I’ve already seen 23 times, and getting splashed during bath time. I’ll be following the trail of books and toys and empty socks and my own shoes to find my little boy. I’ll catch him opening forbidden kitchen drawers, licking the tops of canned goods, climbing on kitchen chairs, and standing up on his mini rocking chair, all much to my dismay. And it will be wonderful.

One Year Referral-versary!

Tue, 13 Apr 2010 23:01:35 -0400

April 14, 2009. One year ago today, we were waiting, waiting, waiting for a phone call that never seemed to come. We were exhausted by the nine months of waiting since our paperwork had been submitted - 17 months total by that point.

I (Kathryn) was in Romania for ministry work, having spent the previous week in Paris on vacation with friends. We knew that our call could come any day, so we were both attached to our cell phones at all times - even at night, which didn’t make any sense since the AWAA offices were closed! I remember climbing the Eiffel Tower, my cell phone tucked into my jeans pocket so I could feel it vibrate if I didn’t hear it ring, and thinking “it could be today!” I remember waking every morning in Paris and then Romania and checking my phone as soon as my eyes were open - even though, at six hours ahead of EST, it was still the middle of the night in the States. I must have driven everyone around me nuts!

Every night, for 17 months, Matt and I prayed together for our unknown son. Prayed for his safety, for his health. Prayed for his birth mom - that she would not be alone as she had to make her most difficult decision. We talked and dreamed and agonized through the wait. We are not patient people, as it turns out. God had to teach us patience and trust, over and over again.

And then - a year ago today - our lives changed forever. Matt was sitting in his office at work, when his phone rang. AWAA! The voice on the phone explained that this was our referral call! Normally, she explained, they call the mom first and conference in the dad but in this case they were unable to reach me. Matt asked them to try to call me again, please - and held his breath.

In Romania, I sat on the couch with Andrea (my friend and co-worker) in our national coordinator’s apartment as we all watched John and Kate Plus Eight (I know, I know... they were still together at that point, or at least in Romanian reruns) and ate ice cream that we had bought earlier on a grocery run. Earlier in the day, Andrea and I had seen storks nesting on our way to Tinca, the small village we were working in. It seemed like a good sign, but I had laughed it off. There had already been too many days and weeks before when I had thought - “This would be the perfect day for our referral. God, today - please?”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, my hands already shaking, when I saw “AWAA” come up on the caller ID (normally calls from the States just read “unknown” - so this little detail was another cool God-thing!). As soon as I heard “This is your referral call!” and then heard Matt’s voice on the other line, I burst into tears. Everyone in the room stared at me as I cried through the details. A little boy, 3 1/2 months old. Eight pounds. He had just recovered from being hospitalized for pneumonia and was healthy, although tiny. AMANUEL. She told us the circumstances of his relinquishment, and I cried harder. Matt’s voice in the background, asking questions.

We hung up, and I literally ran up three flights of stairs to the apartment Andrea and I were staying in to get to my computer to see the emailed photos of our son that were sent as soon as we hung up. My hands were shaking so hard, it took about ten tries to get the key to turn in the lock. I ran to the computer and called Matt on Skype video. We wanted to open the email at the same time, and in a comedy of errors it took about 15 frustrating minutes to set up a video camera on Matt’s end to record both of our faces when we opened the email.

And then, finally - this.

And this.

It may sound cliche, but we were both madly in love with our son from the instant we saw his beautiful face in our two photos. We could see God’s hand in every step of our process. Suddenly, the wait made sense and it took on a holy purpose. It was all for this baby boy, this son that God had chosen for our family. Amanuel was, and is, God’s perfect fit. And his name? Yet another confirmation - “God with us” - that He had been with us every step of the way. In the coming months as we failed our first court date and waited to bring Amanuel home, his name was a promise and a reminder.

We poured over every detail of the photos. His feet seemed very long - would he be tall? His legs... so skinny. His onesie was so huge on him - was it just the wrong size, or was he really that tiny? In the second photo, we couldn’t decide if he was smiling or unhappy (now that we know our son, we know that he wasn’t smiling - that was his “I’m so over this and starting to get annoyed!” face). In both photos, his face had such a look of yearning. It killed us to see him staring back at us, and not be able to jump on a plane and bring him home.

It was still several days before I left Romania to come home. I fell asleep looking at my photo of Amanuel on my blackberry every night, since I didn’t have anything to print. Andrea must have caught me pulling his photo up on my phone at least 15 times a day!

When I arrived home from Romania, Matt had already left for a business trip of his own to Las Vegas - but he had left photos of Amanuel all over the house for me as a surprise! I would open a kitchen drawer, close a door, pull back sheets, and there he would be grinning back at me! The photos were our only tangible link to our son and they would tide us over for the next three months as we waited to meet him for the first time.

There are so many wonderful dates to celebrate with our adoption. We’re excited about celebrating Amanuel’s homecoming day in a few months, when we can celebrate being a family of three for a whole year!

• April 14, 2009 - the first time we saw his face!
• June 10, 2009 - we passed court the second time, and Amanuel legally became our son.
• June 29, 2009 - we met our son!
• June 30, 2009 - Amanuel left the Transition House with us and we became a family of three.
• July 4, 2009 - Amanuel came home with us!

Note: if you want to read the original post of our referral, visit this site: http://ephesians1baby.wordpress.com/2009/04/14/its-a-boy/. And for the ‘back-story’ and photos of our Romanian storks, visit here: http://ephesians1baby.wordpress.com/2009/04/19/our-referral-god-story/

Michiganders Once More

Tue, 6 Apr 2010 11:29:53 -0400

Well, it’s done! Somehow, we managed to pack up our life in Florida (HOW did we fit so many things in our tiny 2/2 condo?) with our 15-month old running around us in circles and attempting to pull things out of boxes as they went in and eat the packing tape. We were so grateful for the help of our great friends who helped us out by watching Amanuel and packing up our 24 foot moving truck.

We woke up on our moving day to thunder, lightning, torrential rain and tornado warnings for Broward County. The weather miraculously broke just long enough to get the truck loaded. I had gotten a horrible cold earlier in the week, which I had then passed on to Amanuel in the form of an ear infection, so somehow we managed to move in the rain, get A to the pediatrician for a prescription before he was stuck in the car for two days, and get our condo cleaned up - only to hop into vehicles early the next morning for the 1,500 mile drive north. Both of our Dads had flown down to help us drive, which was a Godsend! Matt and I were so zonked after weeks of late nights and early mornings that we were in no shape to make the trip by ourselves.

We’re finally settled in our temporary new place in Michigan, a house in the country outside of Grand Rapids that we have until the end of August - hopefully giving us the time we need to find the area we want to settle in more permanently once our condo sell. Thanks to our crew of movers (aka, our families), we were done moving in after two days! Lots of boxes in storage still, but we’ll leave those for the next house. Amanuel is loving all of the extra space to run around in and the extra cupboards and drawers to explore! He has a swing set out back, an outdoor cat to torment, and family members galore within two hours.

The enormity of our move has finally begun to sink in. We’re really missing our friends in Florida, and the reality that we can’t just stop by and see people is a tough one. It’s all part of the transition for us. We know God has called us here and we’re excited about the future, but we won’t forget what we’ve left behind, either. We miss you, friends!

The Big Move

Tue, 16 Mar 2010 10:00:03 -0400

 We are loving every minute with our now 14-month old! It’s hard to believe that Amanuel has been home for over eight wonderful months already. We wonder if we will ever get over the sense of complete joy that we have when we watch him play, eat, sleep, run (he’s not just walking anymore, but running everywhere!), and experience life. We hope not!

One of the things that Amanuel has finally gotten old enough to enjoy is the beach. He’s no longer scared of the sand and the waves, but now likes to attempt to eat sand and run into the water, no matter how high the waves!

That said - we’re getting as much beach time in as we can lately, because... we’re moving! That’s right - we’re making the big move (back) to Michigan, where both Matt and I are originally from. Matt has a job lined up with an audio/visual company in Grand Rapids, which he will start the first week of April. I (Kathryn) will continue to work from home for OneHope as a project manager, which is a blessing!

We’re excited about being closer to family, and of course enlarging our babysitter pool! Now that we have both of our families’ only grandchild, we felt like the kind thing to do was to let the grandparents have a little more access. :)

The fact that Matt was able to get a job in Michigan’s economy is a total answer to prayer. We’re waiting on the sale of our condo, which will be another huge answer to prayer. We found a house to rent until we can determine what area we want to live in (we’re seeking a safe neighborhood with some diversity, which is a little challenging as it turns out!), which was another answer to prayer. All this adds up to show us that God is definitely leading us back to Michigan. However, we will really (and I do mean REALLY) miss all of our friends in South Florida who have become our de facto family over the last 10 plus years. We are going to miss the sunshine and the nice weather that we’ve gotten accustomed to (yes, we’re aware that Michigan is cold. If I had a dollar for everyone who mentioned this as if we didn’t know...). In a sense, Matt and I “grew up” together here. We have spent all of our married life in South Florida, and we have put down some great roots over the years.

All that to say, we’re excited about where God is taking us, and we are excited about these next steps that He has for us. And yet, we’re more than a little bummed about what we’re leaving behind. I think it’s OK to feel excitement and regret all mixed together. It’s the end of an era... and the beginning of a new one.

Saints and Sinners

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 11:10:01 -0500

“The saints are the sinners who keep on trying.”
Robert Louis Stevenson

With all of the recent news coming out of Haiti regarding adoptions, and ‘missionaries’ who kidnapped 33 children in an attempt to get them out of Haiti (ask me what I think of this. Really, ask me!), international adoption has been in the spotlight lately – and much of the publicity has been very negative. It has opened our eyes to the two schools of thought directed towards families like ours in regards to our international adoption.

In our experience, people either react as if we are saints, for having adopted a child from a third world country (we’re really not comfortable with this incredibly inaccurate depiction of us, or our adoption); or sinners, for having adopted a child, thereby taking him out of his country and depriving him of his cultural heritage.

Saints
We’ve had many, many people tell us that Amanuel is “so lucky” to have been adopted by us. Somehow the implication is that we have done this very ‘saintly’ act in adopting him. This is incredibly, incredibly annoying to us. First of all - Amanuel is our son, and we love him unconditionally. He came to our family a bit unconventionally, but he was born in our hearts long before we met him. We are so incredibly blessed to be his parents, and anyone who assumes he got the better end of the deal is out of their ever-loving minds. We’re the lucky ones. And – he was adopted, as in past tense. He is our son – adoption is not something that continually happens. He was adopted. Now he’s just our son. Granted, he has a very rich and unique heritage, which we are doing our best to incorporate in his upbringing (which will be a little easier once he’s old enough to understand).  
Sinners
The other school of thought is that, in having adopted our son from Ethiopia, we have deprived him of his cultural heritage and deprived Ethiopians of the opportunity to care for him.

This is basically the culture vs. nurture debate, which is being played out on an international stage, and is particularly evident in the aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti. For more information on the anti-adoption policies of UNICEF, and how it is preventing orphaned children from being matched with loving families, visit here: http://www.articlesbase.com/parenting-articles/international-adoption-unicefs-and-other-critics-war-against-international-adoption-719309.html.

Culture vs. nurture, in a nutshell, is the promotion of policies that promotes culture over all else. It says that a child is better off being raised in an institutionalized setting in his or her own culture, rather than being raised outside of his/her culture by a loving family. This. Is. Ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong - we support the importance of culture in a child’s life. It is very important, and we certainly don’t downplay the necessary influence in a child’s upbringing.

But we’ve seen orphanages. We’ve seen what institutionalized settings do to children. We saw firsthand what it looks like in an orphanage when four children are living lined up in a crib with only a plastic bag as a diaper cover. We saw what it looks like when that crib - with four children - is in a room the size of our bathroom, with wall-to-wall cribs around the room, each with 3-4 children. We saw the dull, sad eyes of these children. We saw the flies that landed on them, the stained sheets, the empty supply closets where medicine and formula should be, the dirt under their long fingernails.

We realized what institutionalized care does for those children, when we were told that our son almost died of pneumonia at three months, and only survived because of his adoption referral. He was referred to our family, and therefore placed with our adoption agency’s transition home and immediately taken to a hospital where he was on oxygen for seven days. Did I mention that at almost four months old, he weighed 8 pounds? Our son survived, and we praise God for that! But there are many children who have not survived long enough to be rescued. We know of several, and surely there are many more.

We know that, even in the best possible institutionalized care (at our agency’s Transition House, in the three months while we waited to pass court), our son still did not receive enough attention and care to allow even basic developmental steps like neck and leg strength. When we arrived to bring him home at 6 months old, he was not to be able to put weight on his legs, or hold his neck up. This means that the bulk of his time was spent in his crib, with another baby, in a room full of babies with nannies who likely spent their days just trying to keep up with diapers and bottles, let alone being able to play with the children.

These types of situations are not even unique to Ethiopia – we have visited orphanages in many countries around the world, and we’ve seen firsthand what the conditions are like. They are not memories we like to revisit.

Is it a better solution if these children are adopted by families in their own country? Undoubtedly. But in Ethiopia, adoption is not an accepted cultural practice among their own people, nor is it usually feasible financially. Their yearly wages average $900 USD, and many Ethiopians find themselves with more mouths to feed than they can handle already. Should there be an education process to make adoption more acceptable? Should funding be available to families who will adopt? Certainly. But does that mean that children should die or languish in orphanages in the meantime? Absolutely not.

It has been implied that international adoption is purchasing a child for the selfish gain of adoptive parents. It has been asked why we didn’t consider domestic adoption. Sometimes, there is an implication that we selfishly decided to take a child from his home country and deprive him of his culture.

I look at our son now, and he is healthy and happy and absolutely secure in the knowledge that his parents love him and will take care of all of his needs. There is a joy in our son that simply was not present in the photos we saw of him before he came home, or even when we met him. That joy developed in the first months after he came home. I saw him continually relax in our care, as he learned that he is loved and we will not leave him.

I don’t doubt that at some point in his life, he will feel the loss of growing up in his homeland. Children who have been adopted will most likely grieve that loss at some point. But is that loss of culture really comparable to growing up without the love, care and security of a family? In the life and death situations of vulnerable orphans, I cannot believe that culture trumps all else.

From 3 to 4

Tue, 9 Feb 2010 12:27:49 -0500

We are always thrilled to hear about other families who decide to adopt, especially from Ethiopia. It’s such a blessing to be able to share the journey with people we know and love. So, we were beyond excited when our good friends Jen and Ryan decided to pursue an adoption of a little girl from Ethiopia! As former missionaries, they understood our heart for orphans and orphan care when we first started our adoption of Amanuel and were a huge support and encouragement for us throughout our long process.
 So now, we want to support them in their journey! You purchase one of the beautiful necklace pendants above, which say “to be known” in Amharic, as a way of supporting their fundraising for their adoption fees. We got ours this week, and they are so cool! The story behind the phrase “to be known” is at the post below.

http://from3to4.wordpress.com/2010/01/31/known-pendants-fundraiser-for-our-adoption/

Shopping with a cause - what could be better! :)

Ronel’s happy ending

Sun, 7 Feb 2010 00:09:16 -0500

I blogged about Ronel Parker last week, a 9-year old boy stuck in Haiti while his adoptive dad slept on the U.S. Embassy floor with him trying to get him out. They waited over 10 days before Ronel was finally cleared to come home to his family. But he’s home! Just wanted to share his happy ending. The link to the story is here: http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/6852179.html.

lesson learned

Tue, 2 Feb 2010 09:51:15 -0500

I like to think that I’m a thrifty shopper. It’s unusual for me to buy something that’s not on sale, and very unusual to spend more than $20 on any one thing, with the only exception being jeans. Jeans I like to consider “investment pieces”, but only because that’s what Glamour calls them, and I like how it sounds (although I don’t think they were referring to a pair of American Eagle boyfriend cut). And in my new lifestyle as a mom who works from home most of the week, they get lots of wear.

So… it was a little out of character when I recently spent $27. On a t-shirt. That I hate.

Here’s how it all went down. Amanuel and I were on a rainy day stroll through the Boca Raton mall, on the hunt for baby jeans for him. The Boca mall on a weekday afternoon is chock-full of glamorous moms with their Coach diaper bags and Juicy sweat suits and their perfect pedicures, so I was already feeling a little lumpish in my baggy jeans, flip flops and pony tail. There’s nothing like glam moms and fluorescent lighting to make me feel outdated and frumpy.

So there we were, walking around the mall where I had successfully avoided the temptation of Crate & Barrel AND Anthropologie in the interest of budget (this is not an easy task, people!)… and then I saw it. American Apparel. There is absolutely not another store on the face of the earth that makes me feel older. Or more frumpy. Or more lumpish. And… oh, foolishness, I went in. So there I am, 31 years old in a store demographically targeted for people half my age, looking at poly blend t-shirts and neon stirrup leggings and thinking – man, I wish I didn’t feel so un-cool right now. What can I do to prove to myself that I’m a hip, young, urban mom even if I don’t currently look it? Hmmm, how about an overpriced hot pink poly blend unisex tie-dye t-shirt? Sold!

Sidenote: do people even say cool anymore? I have no idea. Half the stuff on urbandictionary.com doesn’t make enough sense to me to even figure out what IS cool. Or not. Whatever.

So the t-shirt. I thought it would make me cool… until I got it home, and realized that without pulsating music in the background and a gold lame stretch headband, I certainly did not look younger, and I could not convince myself that I didn’t look anything but ridiculous in pink tie dye. Sigh. I could almost hear the What Not to Wear crew mocking me. Serious buyer’s regret ensued.

American Apparel just happens to not allow returns, only exchanges. Thus another trip to the store ensued, this time in South Beach when we were there for lunch (South Beach AA = the ultimate hipster location… there was literally a girl working there with lace tights, super-short high wasted gold lame shorts, and a shredded off the shoulder t-shirt ala the 80s). So I traded my pink disaster out for a 40th anniversary Sesame Street tee. Still not dressing my age, but at least I’m old enough to remember Sesame Street in its first 10 years on the air... so, that pretty much makes me even more lame.

The whole experience was annoying, as there are so many other things that I should be spending money on that don’t include my wardrobe and over-priced tees; and humiliating, as I was again reminded of my age and my mom-ishness one more time in Round Two: South Beach.

Ahhh…. I think that I’m going to just have to accept where I’m at and my need for comfy clothes to get me through the day. Because that Sesame Street tee? I got a lovely smear of spit and snot across the collar today when Amanuel was snuggling in for his naptime, and I kind of thought it was an improvement on the design.

Lesson learned.

things that make me happy

Mon, 1 Feb 2010 09:57:29 -0500

1. flowers ‘just because’
2. rocking out to Hillsong United
3. mac and cheese with broccoli
4. the smell of my son’s neck after a bath
5. a strong cup of Ethiopian coffee
6. love notes in my car from my husband
7. vintage 1920s and 30s jewelry
8. antique, mismatched furniture
9. old family photos
10. Beatrix Potter
11. 30 Rock
12. twirling my son’s curls around my fingers while he sleeps
13. Glee
14. L.M. Montgomery
15. snuggling on the couch with my husband
16. watching my son sleep, butt up in the air and feet crossed at the ankles
17. Jane Austen
18. travel books
19. waking up in a new country
20. cobble-stoned streets
21. baby’s toes and fingers
22. a good rain at night
23. old-man clothes in baby boy sizes
24. a down comforter
25. candlelit dinners

What makes you happy? :)