Terrible Twos

Two years.  My bestie Meghan’s little Ruby just turned 2, so I have a picture in my head of the product of 730 cumulative days.  Incredible growth.  Changes at every turn.  Frustration over certain obstacles.  Anticipation for what lies ahead.  And that pretty much summarizes our feelings about this season of eager expectation over our daughter’s arrival (with a LARGE emphasis on the frustration part).  On Sunday it will be exactly 730 days since our paperwork *finally* arrived in Ethiopia, kicking off our “official” wait.  That’s a long stinking time.

Mostly, David and I try to have a good attitude about the process.  Like “God’s in control” and “His timing is perfect” and “Elijah will probably be 16 when she gets here, so he can drive her to school (for the record, it’s less the first two statements and more the last one).”  But trying to be cheerful about an incredibly tough situation is draining.  Especially when people ask you about it  All. The. Time.  And especially when you tend towards dramatic melancholy on good days.  So, there’s that.

But (regardless of my bad attitude) thank you for checking in, for sharing our exasperation over the “speed” (or lack thereof) in this adoption journey.  Some days the progress feels as extensive as a hamster’s furious, repetitive laps in their wheel.  And other times our momentum is so depleted, we seem to be moving backwards.  Blah.  We need an energetic personal assistant at this point (Read: Maria from the Sound of Music.  I want a jumper made out of curtains!).  Or, since you’re already reading the blog AND (more importantly) there wouldn’t be a paycheck involved, how about YOU?  No pressure, but we need informed moral support.  Prayers to baby Jesus are also encouraged.  To give you a better picture of what we’re dealing with 2 years in, I wanted to share updated news about international adoptions in Ethiopia.  

You *may* not have January 2014 burned into your brain like we do, so let me give you a refresher.  Ethiopia was debating over whether or not to keep their country open for international adoptions.  A scary, horrible month.  Thank God, they decided to allow them to continue.  BUT (This is a really big BUT and I cannot lie, I kinda hate it) with added restrictions that have severely slowed down the referral ("matching") process for families.  Compared to 3 years ago, the number of finalized adoptions within our large, well-established agency is down to nearly a third of their previous numbers.  As in- 131 completed adoptions in 2011, to only 51 in 2014.  Wow, that’s discouraging.

In May, our state department issued a press release regarding these stipulations.  Although this information is not new, it will give you a better feel for things in Ethiopia.  One of the recently instated regulations, made after the 2014 deliberation, was that each region in Ethiopia would have authority to allow or restrict international adoptions within their domain.  The country of Ethiopia is approximately the size of Texas and is split into 9 different states (not unlike our states in America).  After the decision was made, 3 states decided to ban international adoption altogether.  5 separate states banned Ethiopian parents from relinquishing their children into orphanage/institutional care.  After the relinquishment option was removed, those 5 states have seen a marked increase of children being abandoned instead.  We’re talking disadvantaged families, with no resources to care for another mouth, are now LEGALLY PROHIBITED from releasing children into the shelter of an orphanage.  And so, in desperation and fear, Ethiopian children and babies are being abandoned.  

As you can imagine, our hearts are breaking over all these things.  However, our agency is mindful and keeps us updated as much as possible.  They stopped work within the 3 closed regions last year and continue to help advocate for children and adoptions elsewhere throughout the country.  But Ethiopian states don't have to give any heads up before enacting a ban, which has left families stranded in the middle of their adoption with no official capacity to bring their child(ren) home.  Every parent’s nightmare.  And obviously, as far as the abandonment issue is involved, vulnerable children’s lives are at risk every day.  Because sometimes, these precious ones are not discovered in enough time to save them.

In light of all that, it seems selfish to ask you to only pray for for us and our daughter.  Instead, we hope you will pray for the entire country, its orphans, officials, adoption proponents, families in process, and many orphanage workers.  After learning this news, I said to David, "It feels like we are on a sinking ship.  I wish God would have changed our hearts, would have given us a burden for somewhere other than Ethiopia."  His simple reply was, "But He didn't."  None of this information has even slightly swayed our desire to adopt from Ethiopia.  In fact, it has increased our urgency.  Although I cannot imagine living 2 more years of waiting like this, our spirits stressed and in turmoil over the (seemingly) shaky circumstances hindering our daughter’s arrival.  Like any Mama, my crazy mind keeps wandering back to those abandoned children left outside, cold and alone.  One could be Elijah's sister.  Oh Jesus, protect my baby.  It’s hard to go through the motions, to wait patiently, when little lives are at stake.  It’s infuriating really, to have such limited control.  The isolation and hopelessness are staggering, sometimes feeling more substantial and overpowering than the dream of our daughter eventually living with us, sleeping in her room, arguing with her brother.  Actually being here as a person, not an idea.  Because there are days when that prospect doesn’t seem remotely realistic.

Admittedly, two is pretty terrible.  We’ve seen incredible progress, but in many ways we’re still idling at the starting line.  It’s confusing territory for sure.  But whenever a pint-sized library customer proudly shows off their age during story time, I’m reminded of something surprising.  Two, when displayed by fingers, can also stand for peace and victory (Or for bunny ears, which Elijah enjoys using to photobomb Every. Picture. Ever.).  These concepts seem utterly irreconcilable, especially to exhausted parents of toddlers everywhere.  But, as Jen Hatmaker said after mistakenly typing “sacred” instead of “scared” while writing Seven, “perhaps those have always been flip sides of a coin.”  Perhaps the scary, uncomfortable places are exactly where God dwells, where He desires us to go.  And maybe there’s a bit of peace and victory in facing hardships head-on and continuing to move forward.  Because this adoption journey isn’t a mystery, it is where we’re supposed to be.  The peace is in the follow through, the certainty that we would travel to the ends of the earth to bring our girl home.  So yeah, it’s scary to not have all the answers or any of the control.  But I know the One who does.  And there’s victory in that too.

Distinguished statue + Bunny ears = Hilarity.  #Elijahwinning