We got her! Ethiopia, day 2.

Outside our Guest House:

Getting into Addis was quite a blur. The plane ride here was nothing short of perfect, for when we departed DC for London, we had a free seat in our row. I think I slept at least 5 hours- awesome. When we changed planes in London? Free seat score #2! We can only hope this will happen on the way back, but I bet Murphy's law will prevent that bonus from happening when we need it most. The bummer about London -> Ethiopia as that it was a smaller plane, thus the giant movie library we enjoyed on previous flights was replaced by a movie schedule, and I can't say I was enticed by the provided documentary about the olympics in China. Regardless, the extra space was delightful. Our driver was ready and waiting when we past through the long customs lines, and we got to our Guest House around midnight. The accommodations are significantly better than those of the last trip, and that said, we slept like babies on the first night in.

At breakfast on Sunday, we were greeted by Niki Gourley, whom I'd met a few weeks back on my excursion to Baltimore. We met her husband Steve, and newly acquired baby Yoseph, who has the biggest, widest eyes, toothy grin, and affinity for drumming on anything his hands can thump against.

The other family here, the Lains, are a fun, friendly, adventurous clan of 4, soon to be 5 when their Ethiopian daughter's adoption goes through. They are from the states, but have been living in Mongolia the past few years. Need I say more to prove they are super interesting to talk to? :)

Patrick's last post covers the events of our Sunday, with church and a trip to the mountain tops. I have to add here how cool it is to be in this country again and be able to experience a little more of the land and the culture. The last trip didn't lend itself to hardly any sightseeing or the like - it was: Get in. Go to court. Get out.

Monday: THE DAY we've been waiting for. It was really hard to arrive on Saturday night, knowing we wouldn't get to see Acacia until Monday morning. So, when the moment finally came, we found ourselves back in the same room we'd said our goodbyes 4 months prior. It had been repainted, and along with some new furniture, it was now a much more pleasant environment (although my happier sentiments may also have helped). When a nanny rounded the corner with our daughter, she burst into tears at the handoff. Perhaps she'd been holding a grudge since our last visit. (Where did those fun people go, and why did they leave behind all these pictures of themselves?!?) I took it as a good sign that she had some attachment to her caregivers.

We made our peace over a bowl of porridge, followed by a short nap. The feeling of her little body and soft belly snuggled against my chest was something I'd missed beyond belief. By lunch time, we'd packed her up (which was easy, she only owned the two things we'd given her), and poof! she was our responsibility. Upon leaving, the director told us that she truly enjoyed our daughter, that she has her own unique way of communicating, and that she needs someone to unlock her smile.

Well, I'd say it took about an hour. I thought she'd be a major challenge when it came to the expression department, but that little girl was ready to be done with institutionalized life. She smiles, and smirks, and giggles amongst all the frowns. She blows lots of raspberries. She shows clear and incredible pride when she accomplishes a small goal, like bending down to pick up a small object without falling on her bum. When something drops to the floor, she makes a huge deal about it, gasping and pointing even if it's a practically invisible crumb of food. She despises the beginning of a diaper change, but cooperates considerably by lifting her legs to help me.

Our first night, when I put her to bed, I found that she rocks herself side to side to fall asleep. It was both the cutest and saddest thing I've ever seen. When she was officially out, still sitting up and slumped over, I leaned her back and she settled onto her tummy, wiggling her bottom like a happy puppy. She only made one squeak all night long.

When we rose in the AM, she looked a little surprised, but broke into a huge grin. No baby, it's not a dream... you really do have a family! I will remember this moment when I'm stuck in an airplane over the Atlantic, and she's clearly not so happy with me. I know this is the "honeymoon phase," but I am currently intent on enjoying this African honeymoon.

First night with Mom and Dad!

Back in Ethiopia by Patrick

Back in Ethiopia. The familiar smells of burning diesel and rich coffee are uncanny. New friends include the Africa sun and mosquitos. This morning we attended a non-denominational church with other adoptive families that were staying at our guest house. While not my path, I was inspired by the congregation and reminded of the passion that can exist in one's life.

Later we drove 45 minutes to the first break in the treeline that overlooked Addis Ababa. A small path diverged from the road, and invitingly wrapped around a corner into the woods. Our teenage driver stopped and our montley crew of four adults and two kids exited the vehicle. The driver was nervous and began asking us what we were doing in his native tongue. Maybe telling the guest house that we didn't need a translator wasn't the greatest idea. He started pointing at the path and saying "No road!" He was adiment. He started pulling in expert witneses to build his "No road" arguement. We were convinced. I would be sure to even tell my friends and family that this path into the woods, should indeed, never be classified as a road. While the belief that our friends' particular concern was proper geographic classification, even I am not that void of common sense. Then it clicked, he thought we were going to walk back to the guest house on this road, I mean, whatever. We were able then to calm him down and let him know not to leave us behind while walked down, uhm, the path?

The walk was invigorating. Full of unique vegetation, and impressive views of the capital. As we continued our surroudings became more remote. Since the road was no longer visable, we decided not to assume that our driver was going to wait for us long.

Back at the van, we were mobbed by a group of kids looking for candy. We were reduced to handing out vitamin c drops. At least we did our part for the day to battle scurvy.

Pictures and video are proving to be harder to upload. They will come, but may be another day or two. Tomorrow we reunite with Acacia. From that point forward we take the next step in our path to Acacia. Thank goodness, we didn't choose the name "Road to Acacia."

Ethiopia, Trip #2

3 days 'til takeoff! ...Help!

We have been non-stop for the last week. I watched other cleared families get on a plane the VERY next day, and still have no idea how they did it! We could have flown out over this past weekend (which is what our agency was expecting us to do) but we felt it best to have a full week to prep, and to leave just after the holiday.

Amongst the packing, booking, planning and cleaning, we have also been doing our best to revel in the last few days with our firstborn, as our family is about to change forever. Sunday morning we all snuggled in bed, reading and tickling and laughing like crazy before going out to breakfast with some of our best buds on the planet. It was a great pause in the hectic weekend to truly enjoy life just as it is in the present, while finally having the peace that Acacia is about to assume her rightful place within her forever family.

The day after a very thankful Thanksgiving dinner at my aunt and uncle's house, we'll leave Manchester and fly to Dulles in DC. From there, we stop in London for a few hours (meet us for tea, MJ???) and then continue on to Addis with a 10pm arrival (which is 2pm on Saturday, our time).

We're staying at the Ethiopian Guest Home , and will be driven there upon arrival. I wish I could say we'd wake up Sunday and have our long awaited moment of taking her in our arms forever... but the transition home where she lives is closed on Sundays! Our entire first day in Ethiopia, we'll be ten minutes away from her, and unable to see her. Irony at it's finest. The nannies are there with the children of course, but other supporting staff gets the day off, and well they should. We will spend Sunday drinking the best coffee on earth, and shopping at Merkato. Merkato is the largest open air market in Africa, covering several square miles and employing an estimated 13,000 people.

Monday will be the day we've been waiting for since we first saw that little face in a photograph on April 27th. When we met Acacia for the first time, I marveled and delighted and all that, but always in the back of my mind was that I'd have to leave her. This is the trip I've been dreaming of.

When Acacia comes into our custody, she's ours, and ours to care for. It will be a wake up call! The guest house will be filled with other adoptive families, so I'm sure we'll all be swapping hair care tips, asking feeding questions and trading too-small and too-big clothing.

Tuesday is our Visa appointment at the Embassy. So far, every family has made it through the appointment smoothly.

Wednesday, we will go visit Numan orphanage (and leave Acacia with the Nannies at the Guest House). It's a three hour drive south to rural Assela Town, and I hope our van has a huge "oh-shit" handle - Ethiopians drive fast, and there aren't any lines on the roads. We will be bringing all your donations with us, and spending some time around Acacia's home turf. I can't wait.

Thursday is wide open for whatever the week brings us, and I'm hoping we can travel somewhere noteworthy with another family or two. We depart Thursday night, again crossing through London, then to Newark and into Manchester at 3:53 pm on Friday afternoon.

If you've made it to this point, then you've read a LOT about this adoption. Thank you! Though we will be laying low for the next few months, I do want to invite anyone who so desires to meet us at the airport when we arrive home. I am not one to enjoy a lot of fanfare, but the moment that my two daughters meet for the first time as sisters chalks up there with the most important moment in my life to date. I keep imagining that moment much like a bride imagines her walk down the aisle. Even if both kids are screaming, it will be the happiest moment of my life! So, naturally, anyone who wants to share in it is invited. No need for rsvp's or anything... just show up to Manchester Airport before 3:53pm on Friday, 12/2.

Next update coming at you from Africa!

XXOO, Killeen

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?