The post I've been waiting 2 years to write.

November 21st, 2009, we attended a Q & A adoption meeting. A darling set of parents, with a twice-as-darling daughter from China, sat with us and a few other couples in the community room of a little church. They showed us a video, talked about the agency they represented, and spent about 10 minutes covering each country with an open adoption program. We left, saying "seems pretty cool." A few weeks later, we were plopping our initial paperwork in the mail with a non-refundable $100 deposit.

We always wanted to adopt, but honestly, we hadn't put a lot of intense thought into it. It just seemed right, we simply both agreed it would be a great way to grow the family we wanted. We knew there were all sorts of challenges that came with adoption, but we didn't really know what they were. No risk, no reward, right?

Never in a million, trillion years did I think I'd find myself, almost exactly 2 years later, on my knees on my kitchen floor, crying "Thank you... Thank you... Thank you..." after four months of pure uncertainty that my baby girl would ever come home.

As covered in my last post, on Oct. 11th, our case was deemed "not clearly approvable," and forwarded to Nairobi, Kenya's Central Immigration Office (CIS) for further review. When we found out that CIS was instead coming to Ethiopia to address the problem in country, there was a glimmer of hope. 11/7 - 11/18 was the slated length of their stay, and they committed to reviewing all of the cases that had been flagged for Kenya.

I went to Baltimore on the weekend of 11/5, to be with 4 other adoptive mamas stuck in the same mess. Out at lunch, only having met each other in person the hour before, you'd have thought we'd been friends for 10 years. We dissected and analyzed and ruminated over our cases and our predicament. We flip-flopped between hope and fear and back again. It was so amazing to be able to talk so freely about something so complicated, because all 5 of us knew exactly how each other felt, without having to explain one word of the story. I sat there, rather impressed that I'd just put myself on a plane to spend the weekend with strangers. I don't do that! But then it hit me: No, I don't do that. But Acacia's Mom does.

It was a really powerful realization. I sat in the airport waiting for my departure flight back to NH on Sunday eve, and I wrote the kid a letter to give to her when she's ready to hear her story. It was the first time I'd really let her back into my heart since I left her, versus trying to block her out of it because it hurt too much to be so far away. Then, it occurred to me that this, that all of this, was preparing me for what I'd naively set myself up for two years ago. If this had been easy, my perception of adoption would remain inaccurate, and I probably would have floundered when it came time to step up to the challenge of being an adoptive parent. Instead, I've had to reach deep to get through feelings of loss and grief; the very things I will have to help Acacia get through in the future.

News from USCIS has been filtering in this last week and a half. I've cheered for the families who cleared, and cried for the families who got unfavorable news regarding the need for more lengthy investigation. Each day that passed without news of my own wore me down a little more. Yesterday, the new friend I stayed with in Baltimore received the dreaded, not-so-good email. As soon as I got that word, I fled work, devastated for her, and knowing I couldn't just sit at my desk and await the formidable email myself. I knew it was coming; we'd had a hunch that our cases were grouped together.

So when it came, not 20 minutes after I'd reached home, I called Patrick before opening it. (His email is blocked at work, thus I was appointed messenger.) It was a password protected PDF, and though it was only 5 characters, I managed to mess it up twice. Poor Patrick just sat there on the other end of the line, shouting "What is it, what is it??!!"

There is nothing like opening an email that changes the course of your life. When I saw the clearance, it knocked the wind out of me. A four month question had just been answered.

There's so much more I could say, but I haven't slept in a week. :) Regardless, I HAD to write something tonight, because I know how many of you have been admittedly stalking my facebook page (which means there's plenty of you that I don't know about!) This has been hard for those of you who care about us, too. We recognize that, and are so, so thankful to be able to give you the good news I believe we've ALL been waiting for. Followers, your investment in our lives is clear, and held dear.

We plan to leave the day after Thanksgiving, and will come back the first weekend in December. I will post official travel dates when the flight is booked.

In closing, the picture at the top of this post seemed a little silly at the time, but in essence, that's me holding up my positive pregnancy test. Two years later, I am being rewarded for the risk I hardly even knew I was taking.

Oh, and Happy National Adoption Month. :) May you be encouraged, not discouraged, by our story, should you ever find adoption to call to you. I can assure you, it's the most meaningful choice I will ever make.

A Long Overdue Fill-in

WOW.

It has been a rollercoaster of a month for the McGowans. I'm not sure I can say that I want to ever relive what will forever be known in New Hampshire as Snowtober. Yet it's safe to say that the storm that led to a multi-day power outage was the least of our concerns. It felt like a rather fitting way to finish off what's usually a gorgeous month in autumn; in darkness... with little information as to when light might be restored.

The last day of September held good news. We were submitted to the Embassy! We were one email away from bringing home our sweet, sweet girl. Well, in early October the email came... but it didn't quite say what we'd expected.

"...insufficent evidence... cannot approve... sending to Nairobi for review..."

Wait. WHAT? It was like that email was in another language. But it wasn't. It said, pretty clearly once I could find the power to comprehend it, that more proof was needed to classify Acacia as an orphan. The entity to do this? The closest Central Immigration Office (USCIS)- in Kenya. It would take 1-2 months before Nairobi even RECEIVED the case, never mind beginning an investigation on it.

As I'd heard it before, very, very few cases were ever forwarded to Nairobi. It seemed dire... until I signed on to my trusty Facebook group of other adoptive parents to break the news. Turns out, the news had already been broken by one, two, three families. We made four. Another had gotten the news a few days prior. How could this very unlikely outcome be the fate of FIVE families from my very own agency?

One of the moms started a new Facebook Group for those of us in this predicament (from all agencies, not just our own). A few weeks later, that group grew from 5 members to 50. To date, there are 87 of us there, and we have learned that Nairobi has about 60 cases awaiting them.

USCIS had to react. Instead of the cases going to them (via diplomatic pouch, I might add, which is like snail mail in the pre-Pony Express era), THEY are attempting to expedite their lengthy process by going to the Embassy where our cases lie. I'd like to think it was a mixture of their common sense, and our relentless questions and rallying. We contacted our Senators, we berated the Embassy with emails. We created enough of a stir for USCIS to hold a 90 minute conference call with over a hundred stakeholders, including ourselves, and a rep from our Senator's office on our behalf. We have challenged our agencies to change their processes to be proactive rather than reactive. And we got somewhere with it.

The team of USCIS officials from Nairobi arrives in Ethiopia on Monday, 11/7. We have all our ducks in a row. We have faith they just might look at our case, and just might find the 51% proof they need to deem Acacia an orphan and let us, her lawful family, bring her home. They stay for two weeks. We will be holding our breath the whole time. Should they not find enough proof to rule our case approved, we have 90 days to gather their requested evidence to again attempt to get our kiddo home.

So, these next two weeks are pretty big. Those thoughts and prayers and energy you've directed our way? Please, please keep it all coming now more than ever. Not just for us, but for all the amazing beautiful children I've come to know through sharing photos and swapping stories with their parents. Children whom are being held in institutions while their loving families are left at the mercy of the US government. The process is meant to protect the children, I get that. However, for the stage we're in, we're truly caught up in messy, inconsistent processes that are still being defined. We pray that the USCIS swoops in on 11/7 and sorts it all out.

So, there's a light at the end of the tunnel... and we just have to hope that we can reach it before another outage hits. If October brought snow, perhaps November will bring sunshine and rainbows.

And now, if you haven't read enough already... I want to share the words of a fellow adoptive parent with a true gift for erecting a window into the world of adoption. So many of you have written us, or timidly asked us how to help us through this. This blog entry not only addresses that, but also explains what life is like from our current perspective, and what it will be like going forward. (Funny enough, the waiting is apparently the "easy" part!) Enjoy:

Jen Hatmaker - How to Be The Village*

* Don't get caught up in the Christian nature of her writing should you not be of Christian faith. I'm not, but I still relate to the true essence of her speech on every level.

Last update for awhile.

The very short version of today's adoption news:
Our case has been forwarded to another country for review.

What it means:
Probably no Acacia until after Christmas.

That's about all we feel like explaining. We are going to refocus our energy on ourselves and Zinnia, knowing that Acacia is being kept safe in Ethiopia.

We really appreciate all the support we've received. Regarding now, please don't apologize or feel sorry for us- that doesn't help. We are facing something really difficult, but we need to try to rise above the things we can't change, and put a lot of this behind us for awhile.

Keeping us quietly and discreetly in your thoughts and prayers is what we ask.

The final stretch, and the things that are making it bearable.

While Patrick and I traveled solo on our first trip to Ethiopia, the wonders of social media have made it possible to connect with many of the other families within our agency. Those of us that are currently in the same boat have found each other, and thus Facebook has recently served an entirely different purpose for me. While the twelve to fifteen families that frequent our page the most are people I’ve never met, I feel like they are the only people in the world who understand what I’m feeling right now.

We have collectively been supporting each other whilst simultaneously freaking each other out. As soon as someone hears an update from our agency regarding their case and posts the news, I immediately, unintentionally, and without much rationale, apply that information to my own situation. People have needed rewritten adoption decrees, police reports, interviews with birth family members, interviews with witnesses present during the ruling of an abandonment case, further proof of investigations regarding abandonment, MIA birth father identification… the list goes on. Every time someone has another hang up, I pessimistically assume that I am going to need this same information at some point. I have set myself up to expect negative news… it’s just what I do. I have such a hard time conceptualizing that things will work out.

After 6 weeks of anticipating it, we finally got our case submitted to the US Embassy (USE), which is the last big step in this game. Hearing the long awaited news that we’ve made it past the iron gates of the USE was really awesome, but the hardest part will be making it back out of the gate. The USE has been holding on tight to those cases, making it near impossible for anyone to please them enough to get visa clearance for their son or daughter. The families I know who had been submitted as long as a month ago are still in paperwork nightmares; only five out of 19 of us have cleared. I remain hopeful that much of my delay in getting submitted was due to requests made by, and already fulfilled for, the USE. I’m not at square one when it comes to their asking for additional info. Just wish I knew how many squares there were to go.

As mentioned in our last blog entry, these adoptions have all been finalized in the eyes of the Ethiopian government. It’s our own government that’s delaying the inevitable journey of these waiting children. Acacia is 14 months today. Each delay is more time away from her that I can never get back. I am so happy that most of our children are too young to know what the heck they are waiting for. It’s torture on this end, but I am confident that ignorance is bliss for the babies. Their nannies are awesome.

Amidst this all-too-painful elongated wait, I’m making a list of positive things that wouldn’t have happened if we’d returned to Ethiopia when we thought we would. This list pales heavily in comparison to the prize at the end of the path… but it’s all I’ve got.

1) Our fundraiser (see post from 9/18) was derived out of a need to keep busy and do something good. And we ended up with a literal boatload of baby products to donate, and enough cash to get extra bags checked and grant the orphanage with a sizeable donation. They discourage cash donations, so our task this week is to figure out the best way to utilize the money through existing projects in the area.



2) I got to attend my dear friend’s wedding, and witness the union of two beautiful families becoming one. I don’t think I’ve ever cried at a wedding, but I bawled like a baby when the couple’s first dance turned into a family huddle with their four children. Really powerful to see this family’s milestone, especially at a time where the conspicuous, non-nuclear family is something heavy on my mind (in a good way).



3) I took the old, beat up, red bureau that had been hiding in my closet, and a $5.00 yard sale score mirror, and painted them. Should’ve taken a “before” pic, but here’s the final product. Eat this, Pottery Barn!



4) I bought this picture frame to hang over Acacia’s crib, which I am filling with pictures of her and us. Seems small, but had this all gone quickly, I would never have had the time to do it.



5) I am delighting in the rapid growth and blossoming maturity of my soon-to-be three year old. Zinnia makes me smile like no other, and this extra 1-on-1 time with my first born is truly special.



6) Patrick’s insane marathon training plan has yet to be interrupted, and it’s safe to say he will survive the training without having to run circles in the courtyard of the Children’s Hope Intl. Transition Home. He’s been immensely dedicated, and I am so happy to see that he will achieve his goal.

On the subject of Patrick, I must say this amazingly trying process has strengthened us as a couple. I feel like by making it through this together, we can face anything. Thanks for being awesome, babe.



7) The Life is good music festival: fifth year volunteering, third year as a photographer. I had an incredible time and have some great pictures to add to my portfolio of musician's portraits.



And there are many more great things that have happened in the last month. Time spent with friends and family in this calm-before-the-storm kind of atmosphere. Still, I can't wait for the storm hit. "Eye on the prize," our agency says, over and over. How can I begin to look anywhere else?

Progress in Another Form: a Recap of the Fundraiser

The Short of it:

• We collected a suitcase full of baby supplies that weighs significantly more than I do.


• We raised $1333.00, with $485.00 of it designated for the 50/50 raffle winner.


• We drew the raffle winner this morning : Mike Holt.


• Mike, who also happened to attend the party, talk to everyone at it, AND stay until the very end, insisted that we keep his jackpot for the cause.

The Long of it:

I really thought we'd have a travel date to go and get Acacia by now. We are likely still anywhere from a few weeks to a few months away from having her home, and as I've said before, it's the unknown that's putting me over the edge.

Riding the wave of emotions in the past few months hasn't been easy to say the least. I am someone who lives by the principle of "high ideals, low expectations." I know how I want things to be, but I don't ever expect much, thus I'm more often pleasantly surprised than I am disappointed. However, my general rule doesn't apply to wanting my baby home. That exception is all about hoping for the best, and expecting the best... because how could I do anything else? Though as a result, I've experienced a lot of let downs.

The fundraiser was that kind of thing that had me returning to my low-expectation standby. I didn't want to get too confident that we'd get a good turn out or collect many supplies. I'm also not the fundraising type... I hesitate to put others in the position of feeling obligated to give. The whole thing was out of my comfort zone, yet it still felt like something that I needed to do.

I was admittedly a little discouraged when I didn't hear from some of the people I expected I would. Patrick sensed this, and did his best to encourage me that we'd have a great time. I did my best to remember this wasn't all about me, but about Acacia and her fellow buddies from her orphanage. It was tough, but I still found myself adding small details to the event to honor those kids. This included making a large batch of little lapel ribbons to wear at the event.

At the peak of last night's get-together, with the colors of the Ethiopian flag pinned to every shirt and blouse, I truly did feel a unification. There were people who were there for us, because they've always been there for us. We need that, and we couldn't be more thankful for that. There were also people who made an appearance because they really believe in what we're doing, and I was so touched by the conversations that revolved around this. There were a few friendships from the past that feel rekindled as a result of the evening. At 13 months old, Acacia has already managed to connect me to, reconnect me to, or deepen my connection with so many different people. This notion, along with the copious amount of donations we've collected, has put me at peace with the delays we've faced. We didn't let this extra time go to waste.

A few of Zinnia's teachers came to represent, showing me that Zinnia has, and needs, support in this endeavor, too. Her school put out their own collection box, unprompted, and such initiative speaks volumes. Another teacher was our babysitter for the night, gave Zinnia great care (as Zinnia will tell me everything!), and gave us total peace of mind while we were out. We came home to a sleeping kid with a glowing report.

When we drew the raffle winner today, I was really excited to see it was our friend Mike. He added a lot of energy to last night's outing, and it felt fitting that he'd get the other half of the pot. I was overcome with so much emotion when he told me he wanted us to keep it, and that there was no changing his mind. His generosity, which is a conglomeration of everyone's generosity, is appreciated, inspiring, and completely restoring. As I talked with him and recapped the evening, I felt like life's lessons were hitting me left and right. At a time where it's been hard to feel much progress in any area of my life, I suddenly realized that I haven't been as idle as I'd thought.

Again, thanks to everyone who participated, who came out with us, who added a tube of diaper cream to the pile, who has prayed for us, who has written us an encouraging message, or who simply reads this blog and silently cheers us on. I can see clearly at this moment that it has made all the difference.

Please make a promise. A call to my collegues in health and human services.

Just a quick update. Acacia's paperwork was not accepted by the US Embassy in Ethiopia today to process her visa. It was submitted and then returned because we were missing a report from the orphanage that would verify her official status. In the past the US embassy was rather straight forward with their disbursement of visas, but they have recently become pickier.

A quick primer about the process: at this point Ethiopia has already named Killeen and I as Acacia’s parents. Adoptions in Ethiopia are irreversible, and this was made clear by the judge when we first traveled. Bottom line, legally we are the only family that Acacia will ever have.

So, what is the purpose of the US embassy highly scrutinizing cases? My idealistic side says they are doing their part to assure that children are not being illegally trafficked through the system. However, if they did determine that a child was trafficked, the adoption cannot be reversed. So they would simply be assuring that this child would not be able to enter the US, and would be permanently separated from any family unless those adoptive parents became expatriates and moved to Ethiopia. My cynical side says that the US wants to appear tough on trafficking. I say this because a CNN story about three years ago exposed several adoption agencies in Ethiopia that were illegally trafficking children. Shortly after this, every government agency in Ethiopia tightened their process and added extra layers of bureaucracy (which is a separate gripe). The US embassy seems to be following the same process, so they aren’t the only person at the party, left to point the finger at if another trafficking scandal appears. In other words they want to be able to say, “We’ve cracked down on trafficking, just like Ethiopia.” The end result is a policy that hurts the intended population, and simply works to deflect blame. Acacia is our daughter, you are just stalling her homecoming.

My fellow human service and public health practitioners…please take a moment to reaffirm your practice…and make a promise to yourself that you will not support/make policy that hurts your population for the sole purpose of your agency’s PR. That is the most positive nugget I can pull out of this HIGHLY discouraging day. So we now wait longer.

Our Fundraiser!

[photo: a mother & daughter in the alley way of their home. Taken outside of the House of Hope, where we stayed during our trip to meet Acacia]

We're on the final stretch of the path to Acacia, and man is it hard to wait. So... we're focusing our energies on something positive: A fundraiser to help Numan Orphanage (where Acacia is from), and Acacia's adoption, which currently totals about 25K!

How to support:

50/50 Raffle*

All you have to do to enter is click the DONATE button on the right (you don't need a pay-pal account; it accepts credit cards).

1 for $1.00, 6 for $5.00. Drawing will be held on 9/18, the day after our:

Fundraiser Event
Strangebrew Tavern
Saturday, 9/17, 4pm and on
Manchester NH
CLICK HERE to RSVP!

This event is an excuse to get together, and do something great for Acacia's orphanage. I might add that the beer selection is fabulous, and the day's specials include 1/2 off apps and 3.00 beer specials from 4-7pm. We are requesting that all attendees come with an item from the following list, which we will bring with us on our return trip to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia (please ensure items have an expiration date of at least one year out).

• Diaper rash ointment
• Anti-fungal cream
• Zinc oxide ointment
• Hydrocortisone cream
• Multi-vitamins for Babies
• Cloth Diapers
• Similac Infant formula
• Baby Lotion - 0-2 years old

50/50 raffle tickets will be available that day, and there will also be a separate raffle on location for some fun prizes (more details to come).

Hope to see you there!!!

* Our 50/50 raffle is more like a 50/25/25 raffle- the amount we raise will be split between our own expenses, and a donation to Numan Orphanage in rural Assela, Ethiopia