Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Filed under: support

Oh Mercy

Generosity.  Reluctantly, I will admit that I have rarely given to causes that mean something to me. -- Later.  When I have the time.  When I have enough money to give something meaningful.  But, I really want those shoes, and world peace isn't likely to happen anyway. -- Despite a deficit in Karma credits, the generosity heaped on me in the past year is astounding.  People have found ways to be generous with their time, financially, professionally, and with their hearts.  Gestures others may have called small have carried me thousands of emotional miles.  I am forever changed by the generosity others have shown me.

Part of this change is that I am now giving more, even when my gesture feels embarrassingly humble.  I am beginning to identify organizations that our family will support and follow, organizations that allow us to give back to Antonia's birth land.  Mercy Ships is one such organization.  Mercy Ships provides health care to people throughout Africa.  They have been doing it a while, seem to have weathered a few storms. 

Here is there website: http://www.mercyships.org/

For just this week, if you buy a shirt from Sevenly, a bunch of the proceeds go to Mercy Ships: http://www.sevenly.org/

 

 

My Mother

We have been waiting a while for this baby now.  So long that those first few weeks of "Oh my God, this is real, she is real," feel like foggy, distant memories.  In real time, it was less than six months ago.

I always knew that my family supports adoption.  I have the kind of family in which you grow up thinking that you are as likely to adopt as you are to birth a child.  So I had no worries that my adoption would be met with fears and judgment over adoption itself.  But when my mom cried tears of joy, when she sounded so proud, I was not prepared for that.  She already loved this baby and this choice, it was like she had all along.  I believe Antonia, with her history, her background, her beautiful face, is the exact granddaughter my mother was waiting for.  It is humbling and feels so incredibly good.

Waiting, though, is not something my mother does well.  I assume that the people reading this know us.  But, if you don't, my mother is a 5 foot tall Portuguese-American woman.  And, she is ready to create an international incident.  I won't quote her, because I rather not visit my mother in jail.  Let's just say, it's a good thing she was raised on a farm, on an island, not in Washington where she might "know people."  She believes that we're at the point where military action, or other less government sanctioned methods, should be used to bring Antonia home.  She is right.  Thankfully, she is also incapable of orchestrating an international incident.  Or crime.  I think.

Another Week of Waiting

It's been an interesting week in my world of waiting.

1.  I saw a travel doctor.  While at the office, I asked the nurse if she saw a lot of adoptive families.  She said that they used to, but there has been a big decline in the past few years.  She attributed this to the economy.  A recent New York Times article describes other factors (a link to this article is pasted at the end of this entry).  I am not sure if this means overall adoptions are down, or just international adoptions.  Either way, there are still many children around the world who are in need of families to raise them.

2.  I received a small grant from the Fatherless Foundation.  This is the second grant I have received.  Between these two grants, and the money my friend Jessica has been lovingly (and determinedly) raising, the next phase of payments will be significantly less.  While on the topic of Jessica, I got to watch her fundraiser grow significantly this past week.  The amount of love aimed at us via her speaks volumes of Jessica.  She is generous and well-loved.  I cannot wait to send Antonia off to the ballet with her in a few years. 

3.  Following notice of the grant, I received another email from my adoption agency.  It seems that the US Embassy is going to take more time investigating adoptions before granting visas.  While this is good overall, hopefully further reducing corrupt adoptions, it means it will take longer for children to enter the US.  Part of me thinks I received the grant to cover additional in-country expenses for my child.  I think the charge is $700.00 for every month in country.  Does this mean I am looking at waiting for several more months?  Aaaaagh.

4.  School has begun again.  Teaching restarted a while ago, now I am now back in class.  A new professor joined our program.  I am not sure how this will play out with my potentially missing a month of class.  My program director and other professor understand my circumstance and are willing to work with me.  The verdict is still out with him though.  As insane as my timing may seem to be, it kind of works for me.  Looking forward to a pay increase in two years makes more sense than ever.  Without the baby, I am not sure I would ever be inspired to leave the classroom because I love teaching so much.

5.  The baby received her first piece of mail.  It is sweet, a Valentine's Day card from my sister's family.  It shows my two little nephews holding hands.  My favorite part though is Antonia's name on the envelope.  And my sister's note to her.

The New York Times article:                                                                      http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/25/world/us-adoptions-from-abroad-decline-shar...

 

Baby Making, Adoption Style (Part 1)

This baby is the result of the love of many.  When I think about her arrival, I see an ocean of people who have been part of her journey here.  About six months ago, when this process was just beginning to take shape, I imagined making a book for her.  Each page would feature one of the important people in this process.  Six months later, I realize that this book will be volumes long. I will not write volumes today.  I will, however, write about a few people who were involved in her conception, so to speak. 

Tara is the kind of person this world needs more of.  She understands friendship and demonstrates her understanding with infinite kindness.  After years of spending her Sundays going to open houses with me, she helped me choose what will be Antonia's home.  Long before Antonia was even a real thought or consideration, Tara would say, "But there's no room for the baby!"  Tara had a faith and commitment to this baby that superseded my own.

Once I began the adoption process, Tara was again a consistent source of support.  Willing to spend hours talking about just the possibility of adoption, she helped me make decisions that were overwhelming.  Also, she was the first person to write me a reference letter.  Tara was adopted herself.  Her insight has been, and will continue to be, priceless.  Also, it makes having her in our corner even more special.

Charles.  According to him, I was talking about adoption during our first date (almost three years ago!).  I don't remember that.  What I do remember is the comfort and stability he has provided through every step of this process - even the just-thinking-wondering non-steps.  He has two boys who mean the world to him.  I think these boys are responsible for his wisdom.

As I weighed parenthood, adoption, career, finances, Charles said, "There is never a good time to have a child.  But, it is never a disappointment and it never feels like a burden."  He asked me what I would regret most in forty years.  Somehow, repeatedly answering this question, even today as I empty my retirement account, allows me to choose Antonia.  Like Tara, he let adoption talk dominate our conversations.  There are some decisions in adoption that feel huge.  For me, one such decision was choosing the country from which I would adopt.  In the midst of one of many conversations about this, Charles said, "Once this baby is in your arms, none of this will matter."  He's right.  As long as my baby comes to me in an ethical manner, nothing else matters.  So I chose.

I remember talking with Steve and Nancy about this idea on a boat in Lake Winnipesaukee.  It was a moment where my idea was met with visible love.  Adopting, perhaps parenting, involves so much vulnerability.  So many concerns about inadequacy persist.  So when two such great people, and super parents, not only support you, but are excited about the whole thing, there is quite a bit more confidence for moving forward.  Looking back, I think that I began to identify (proudly) as a potential adoptive mom that day on the lake.  Steve and Nancy went on to write a beautiful letter that is part of my home study - a letter that captures twenty-five years of friendship.

I am far from done.  There are many more friends.  And if you know my family, you know that their love may require a whole other blog to explore.