The Ethiopian Stalemate

Okay, here goes.  Ethiopia has indefinitely suspended international adoptions.  Also the Ministry of Women, Children, and Youth Affairs (MOWCYA), a crucial organization involved in processing adoptions in the country, has started actively opposing the completion of any international adoption in Ethiopia.  Their desire is to turn the overwhelming tide from international adoptions towards domestic ones (ones occurring in the country), to keep orphanages searching for local parents for their children.

Sigh.

That decision leaves many families, including ours, in an indescribably hard place.  Continuing to ride the red tape roller coaster would be an imprudent choice at this point.  Whereas people who have been matched with a child have some legal traction for moving forward, those (like us) still awaiting a referral have almost nothing working in their favor.  As dedicated as we are to adopting from this country, if the country isn’t dedicated to making international adoptions happen-we can’t conjure up necessary documents and a court date based on our overflowing feels and love.  If only.

When starting an international adoption, this is the worst case scenario everyone dreads.  Even MORE SO for parents who have already connected with their kid and are waiting for the final pieces of the process to fall into place.  Pray for these families.  (To put feet on your prayers, sign this petition by June 10th to help garner White House support for those affected.)  Imagine being separated from your child and helpless to move on their behalf.  I cannot think of a worse position to be in.

Do I sound overly composed?  Well, David and I have been chewing on this for more then a month now.  We’re mostly done the screaming, crying, and telling God, “Your plans seem fickle and stupid” phase.  And, despite us, JC is tugging our spirits open to new possibilities.  But damn, it’s a struggle.  Rerouting from Ethiopia after 4 years of arduous dedication and devotion is a punch to the gut.  Honestly, it’s upended us.  Only a cruel jokester would claim a “greater purpose” behind homeless orphans.  But my Jesus isn’t cruel.  I have to believe He is close and equally devastated by this tragedy, just as Lazarus’ death drew him near to Mary and Martha.  And in some ways, the difficult experience we had with our first foster placement toughened us up in this arena.  (Plus it motivated me to finally get on Zoloft, the calming manna of the masses.)  We realized that letting go of the beautiful (but STUH-bborn) baby girl, carbon copy of my imagined Ethiopian daughter, was what our family needed to do.  Emotionally and mentally, we weren’t able to continue on in the manner necessary for our time together to be beneficial for HER.  Although I tried my hardest, it didn’t work.  And I had to forgive myself for that, for my best not being good enough.  And I have to forgive myself for this.  For the Ethiopian stalemate, for circumstances outside of my control, for surrendering a dream.  For my best not being good enough once again.  I won’t lie- there are days I feel dead inside, my heavy heart threatening to drop from my chest like a stone.

My wise Meggie says I need to grieve THIS loss before any inspiration or excitement about next steps will arrive.  She’s always right.  I’ve done this type of suffering before (and still).  Because stalled adoption IS eerily similar to infertility.  No incident to mourn.  No particular anniversary to fall apart on.  As I wrote previously, “Not that I’m callous enough to wish for an event of this kind, but the month after month of nothing leads to a different kind of brokenness.”  Open season for triggers.  Recently at work, I overheard 2 storytime moms discussing a mutual friend’s journey to pregnancy (names obviously changed since I like my job):

“And Sally had to try IVF 3 times!”

“Oh, really?!?”

“Yes.  If the 3rd attempt failed they were going to have to adopt, but they got pregnant!  Now they have precious little Brianna.”

All I heard was the phrase “HAVE to adopt” (like it was some kind of punishment) and my eyes filled with tears as I sprinted into the back workroom to do some deep breathing.  Those women said nothing hurtful OR wrong.  But my sensitive brain twists things into personal daggers for my broken spirit.  We’ve waited 7 years to add another child into our family.  Infertility, adoption, foster care-Hard, hard, hard.  I just want a freaking break.  My sweet Elijah has literally been praying HALF HIS LIFE for a baby sister.  (<-Link to a video of him talking about her!)  His immense love for geography sparked by a sibling living on a different continent.  Please Jesus mend our souls.  Because if “God’s timing” or Jeremiah 29:11 is brought up in light conversation, my fingers *might* automatically start searching for the closest sharp object.  So yeah, I guess some grieving needs to happen.

This tiny baby wishing for his sister.  And the broken Africa heart.  Ugghh.

Africa, I’m still wrecked for you like a jilted lover.  For your little ones being raised in orphanages.  Friends, please pray that Ethiopian families will FLOCK to make domestic adoptions happen, as this is THE MAIN OPTION now for creating homes for these needy children.  Pray overflowing love and patience for institution caregivers, health and resilience for waiting orphans, wisdom and enlightenment to guide lawmakers.  This country and its people will forever be precious to us.  (I mean, they use flatbread as an eating utensil; eternal love is basically our only option.)  However Ethiopia reminders are both incredibly poignant AND abundant in our house, so we’ll be taking some down.  A slow release.  But other objects will physically remain, as will memories from attending our dossier party, the chili cook-off fundraiser, and especially the Ethiopian New Year’s festival.  Those gorgeous little girls, their big brown eyes and beautiful bone structure, their flowing white dresses.  I won’t forget.

And us.  How can you pray for us?  Here’s what we know: We ARE going to internationally adopt.  A little girl 2 or under.  We’ll transfer our adoption to another (undetermined) country within our agency.  While the agency WILL waive some costs in this new process (the program costs we paid *directly* to their organization), we’ll have to undertake major fundraising AGAIN.  Womp, womp.  Fees from our Ethiopia home study (Price range: $1,200-2,500), government certification/background checks (Price range: $400-$1000), authorized USCIS fingerprinting (Price: $945), and updates for all the aforementioned things (an expensive YEARLY requirement in Maryland) are entirely NONREFUNDABLE as services already rendered.   Of flipping course!  (Here's a complete breakdown of adoption costs.)  Considering we've "officially" been in the Ethiopia process for 4 years, the price accumulation of these mandatory checks (and revisions) has made a significant dent in your generous donations to our adoption savings account.  Straight from that frying pan, we jump into the hellfire of compiling a NEW dossier for a different country.  Before submitting, we must renew and/or re-do many documents since they are currently Ethiopia specific.  This tedious work necessitates us putting a hold on foster placements (until the adoption is complete), while still -hopefully- being available during this season to help other foster families with short-term respite care.  And lastly, this might sound incredibly stupid, but we have to embrace a much different idea of who our daughter will be.  Not biological OR Ethiopian, but a brand new little person.  (Probably no afro puffs in my future-Sad face.)  On these big and little things, we need wisdom, divine guidance, and prayer.  (Weirdly enough, we don’t need your opinions!  Big hugs anyway! ;) )

We do need YOU though.  Your love.  Your support.  Your encouragement.  Your fundraising ideas.  You have been the absolute best cheerleaders for our family, especially our daughter.  It's equal parts scary and amazing to have such a public adoption process.  Scary because of the outside voices that may criticize a couple's desire for an international babe, for family building in this different (costly) way.  Scary because of the potential for failure, of countries closing their borders, of THIS.EXACT.MOMENT.  But, also amazing.  Because this same vulnerability grants access to crazy, stupid blessings, to a community with open hands and hearts.  Amazing because God didn't just plant one country in our path; He planted two.

Over these past few months, the Bible study I’ve been doing on Joseph has been life-giving.  (You might have noticed, since I mention it in ALL my recent blog posts.)  Lately I keep coming back to Genesis 50:20, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”  Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, became a rising servant and then a wrongfully convicted prisoner, before finally coming into power below Pharaoh.  From that exalted position, he addresses his astonished (and very guilty) brothers many years later with the words from this verse.  No interrogation or bitterness present, only complete forgiveness and love.  (I need Joseph’s therapist!)  And I hope that in a couple years, I can think something similar towards the Ethiopian government.  I know they didn’t set out to harm anyone; their desire is to keep all adoption services operating above board and in line with their stringent policies.  They want the country’s children to be adopted by the country’s families.  It’s not a bad goal, however it DID hurt many people.  Deeply.  But, like my precious Chandra reminded me, “This is simply a part of your girl’s story.  That Jesus worked within the sadness of a shutdown, to bring you the joy of your daughter.”  Not the way we intended (never the way WE intended), but a miracle just the same: The preservation of lives.  Both hers and mine for starters.  There’s an Ethiopian proverb that says, “When one is in love, a cliff becomes a meadow.”  We're scared to jump, baby girl, but we’ll do it for you.  As many times as it takes.