GO for Travel!

Addis, we are GO for travel!

This morning I called Aaron's surgeon's assistant (who is, as she would say, FAN-tas-tic) and explained that our agency had an embassy date for us and although I wanted to be so excited as she suggested, I really wanted the big doc's A-OK before I bought airplane tickets. She checked with the doctor and called back in an hour and said "Buy your tickets!" YES!*

We are looking at leaving on July 13 and returning on the 21st. Can you say holy cow that's only 2 1/2 weeks from now!? And #&^!@* the tickets cost how much?

Baby girl is coming home!


* I would like to revoke the love I spontaneously pledged to a certain surgeon, although I will let my professed love for the assistant stand.

Big A, Little A

The Big A, Aaron, is slowly getting his energy back up and his pain and narcotics down. He generally feels pretty good during the day, although he tires very easily. He also has this weird hot/cold thing going on. During the day he is down to just Tylenol, but at night he has more pain and needs prescription meds. Please keep praying for less pain and better sleep . . . especially since the doctor didn't want to give us the A-OK for Ethiopia until after he's off his pain meds. Meanwhile, though, our agency is planning an embassy date for us. I feel weird and sneaky again being half-committed, half-waiting. I hope we can have a conversation with the doctor early next week (before he is out of town) and he says it's okay to move forward. 'Cuz I'd hate to have to disobey him, but I need to buy tickets.

Meanwhile Little A, Anna, is going on with the business of growing up. Specifically, up to 11 pounds 10 ounces and 22.8 inches. Apparently she got shorter since her last measurement (23 1/2 inches)--or, more likely, she likes to squirm. Someday she'll even fit in her sweaters.





A big thank-you to Joyce and Rick for keeping me company and helping us out during all this! Hope you are back on the right time zone and enjoying that big wannabe-ocean of yours.

In Sickness and in Health

June 21, 1997.

I, Wendy, take you, Aaron, to be my husband. Relying upon the strength of Christ, I promise before God and all who are present here to be a loving and faithful wife, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I will love you, serve you, and encourage you according to God's holy Word until death parts us. I pledge you my life.

Best promise I ever made. Even though I didn't really know what I was saying. Does anyone ever? The correct answer to "Are you ready to get married?" is not "Yes" but "Ready as we'll ever be." That's when you're ready: when you know it's a bigger promise than you can live up to on your own but you're humbly, wholeheartedly dedicated to making it work by faith, commitment, learning, and grace.

We've had our share of sickness to go with the health. I started us off by getting food poisoning at the end of our honeymoon and spending a week unable to keep anything down. There is no good place to be that sick, but I can testify that airplane seat narrowly beats out airplane bathroom, airport bathroom, hotel room, and home as Worst Place to Vomit. And no, genius in front of me on the plane, it's not motion sickness since we're not moving yet.

We did pretty well from then until this year's eye surgery and open heart surgery for Aaron. In year ten of our marriage I have driven to appointments, argued insurance coverage, administered eye drops and narcotics, put on a brave face, scrubbed rashes, fluffed pillows, fetched water, and held hands. In year ten I have been scared, nurturing, angry, steady, and exhausted.

In year ten I have loved like never before.

And for ten years, I have been loved like no one deserves.

And that, my friends, is what it's all about.

Thank you, God, for this man I love.

Thank you, Aaron, for sharing it all. I pledge you my life.

Hanging at Home

It is good to be home, and we have been out and about a bit too. On Saturday Joyce and I went to the Beachcomber Days parade and walked around town a bit in the perfect weather. Sunday we had worship outside in front of the church and then a BBQ to benefit the scholarship fund. Aaron made it down for the BBQ.

After a couple hours home recharging we all went into town for our favorite cultural event, the bed races. Sadly, only two entries. Young Life has got to get a team together next year. Briggs can build an aerodynamic pirate ship/iPod/slingshot or some such elaborate craft. But I digress.

Aaron's energy level is obviously up, although I think I hear some, uh, "relaxed breathing" coming from the recliner again now. His pain levels are definitely down during the day, but he still has trouble staying comfortable and sleeping at night. Keep praying for sleep, please.

With this summer weather and no work, I feel like I'm on some sort of unauthorized summer vacation. I haven't even cooked, thanks to church folk. I am ready to tackle my to-do lists, packing lists, shopping lists, and household disaster zones.

Settling In

We are settling in at home. The first night Aaron had a hard time getting comfortable in bed. Every 20 minutes we were trying a different arrangement of pillows and I thought, Will I ever sleep again? Tell me this is not preparation for how our baby will (not) sleep. Eventually we got it right, though, and for the rest of the night and last night we were only up every couple of hours (well, at least I was--I suspect Aaron was up more).

Friday Aaron had to get his blood checked here in town, and I had more errands to run in the afternoon. Then we had a period where I think all three of us were napping. I think I am slowly getting caught up on sleep, and Aaron's pain seems to be slightly less, although it comes and goes, and when it comes, it's not fun. As my brain slowly defogs, I will have more thoughtful blog posts, but I know you only really care about what's below anyway: new pictures of beautiful, alert, smiling, giggling Anna!

Home Sweet Home

We are home. It has been a long day. In time we will love to see you all again, but for now best to phone first and don't be offended if we don't pick up. We also have to swing by the local doctor tomorrow.

We got word about 9:00 a.m. that Aaron was cleared to go home. Once we got him discharged we had to get his prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy and go check out of our hotel. We got home at about 3:30.

We are all worn out and Aaron was at times overwhelmed, I think, by the strangeness of knowing what has happened to him over the last week and now being on his own in a sense rather than under nurses' watchful eyes. It is in a sense hard to trust that we will be okay with all the medications and pain and all on our own. I think once we settle in and get better rest he will be glad to be home, though.

We are grateful to the Howes for dinner and the Esteses for the loan of a recliner that doesn't have "issues." And now, finally, I am going to go be grateful for my bed.

Recovery Report: Day 8

Aaron had a good day today. Mine was a little goofy. I think my brain is addled.

This morning we took Aaron's dad to the airport. Joyce is staying another week. On the way we stopped to fill one of my tires with air and Rick noticed it had a piece of metal in it, which would explain the slow leak. Dropped him off and I went the wrong direction on the highway. Please send coffee.

We went to the hospital and hung out and took walks with Aaron. He did well through the day with only pain pills, no IV drugs, so I hope he can get through the night that way. If he can and the blood thinner levels are good in the morning, he should get to go home. His biggest annoyance today was that he has been feeling itchy all week but now it's a full-on rash all over. The nurse looked up all his drugs to see if it said any can cause itching, and it could be his pain meds, or just the way everything is interacting, or what the linens are washed in, or the super concentrated soap they gave him. I tend to think maybe the soap since he seemed to get worse after trying to wash away the itch, so I got him new soap and they got him hypoallergenic linens and Benedryl. 'Cuz he wasn't on enough drugs.

In between all that I decided my brain was too fuzzy and I needed to go get the tire fixed and crash in my hotel room for a while. I went to the van and found a note: "Just a friendly note from the valet staff that you have a flat tire." Yep, FLAT, like can't even drive it to the gas station flat. But the nice, probably bored valet guy offered to help me change it. Of course I have only had this van 6 weeks so I wasn't familiar with its spare and jack system. We spent an embarrassing amount of time puzzling over how a T-shaped piece could "tilt through hole to remove spare" when the T is bigger than the hole. I felt like a monkey with no depth perception. He said, "You'd think a college degree would be helpful here," and "Don't they say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?" Then he beat it on the ground and got it into two pieces as apparently required. Duh. The poor guy got filthy and can't accept tips. I nominated him for a Rose Award; maybe he'll get a two-cent raise.

Got the tire fixed; it had not one but two pieces of metal in it, which would explain the rapid acceleration of flatativity. Went to the hotel where, oh yes, I had left the cell phone in the morning, and got a 45-minute nap.

We're hoping to get to the hospital early enough tomorrow to see the surgeon on his early morning rounds. I don't know what time they'll check Aaron's blood and make a decision about letting him go home. But we're all about ready to get out of here.

There's no place like home . . . There's no place like home . . . There's no place like home . . .

Recovery Report: Day 7

Live from room K11 . . .

Aaron had a good day today. Since he is now alert enough to be bored, the other good news is that we discovered that we can indeed access the Internet from the hospital room. Shall we try some live blogging?

8:45 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room, waiting for nurse to come fiddle with IVs.

9:00 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room, watching nurse fiddle with IVs.

9:15 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room, watching nurse fiddle with IVs.

9:20 p.m.: Sitting in hospital room.

Well, I’m pretty disappointed in that little experiment.

Anyway, last night Aaron got some nice meds to help him sleep, with the only side effect being him waking up in the night in some sort of weird dreamlike state before figuring out where he was. Trippy is better than not sleeping, though. The pain was under control pretty well today, although it is always there. He walked around the hall and enjoyed the view of the city and mountains from the waiting room, which I also enjoyed for quite a while from the sunny, warm terrace garden area. If you have to hang around a hospital for a week, this is actually a pretty nice one to be in, especially this new wing.

One of the doctors talked to us some more about his blood coagulant levels this afternoon. Aaron was just started on a drip to get his blood thinned more; when it is at the right level, he can probably go home. It is looking like he might be able to go home Thursday, although it is still wait and see.

Please keep praying for (1) the blood anti-coagulants to get adjusted easily, (2) good rest at night, (3) good energy and exercise during the day, (4) pain control, and (5) boredom control.

We got new pictures of our baby girl! I will get a couple up here soon.

Recovery Report: Day 6

Ugh. Aaron had a horrible night last night and a pretty darn bad morning too. He was pretty worked up when we got there about how bad the pain was in the night and still was. He was really scared something was really wrong. They had kicked up his pain meds by then but he couldn't seem to get comfortable and the on-call doctor had Dr. Slater come by. He did not seem to think there probably was a problem, but Aaron was going to have a chest x-ray anyway and it would show a couple of possibilities if they were going on. Joyce and I talked with the nurse quite a bit about what was going on and what they were doing for him. She was great not only with him but also with us in taking time to talk and being understanding that today, I was losing it. I didn't think anything to serious was wrong, but it was hard to have left him doing so great Sunday and come back and see him in agony and so scared.

Thankfully, pretty soon between the meds and him relaxing a bit, he started feeling better. He was up in his room quite a bit and able to humor the occupational therapist. Finally at about 4:15 they came to take him to the x-ray--by then he thought he might walk but I said, umm, how far is it? He did go for his first walk around the hall before he had dinner though.

The night nurses seem to be slower so he didn't get his shower until about 9:00, and there's a lot of fiddling around with things that makes it take a long time. He wanted to take a walk in the hall after that so hey, I wasn't going to stop him. After that he still didn't want his sleeping pill (God bless the inventors of that pill) but once I'd gotten everything he could possibly want at night within reach, I said, "I can't believe you're not dead tired right now." He said, "I am, actually. I'll probably go to sleep about 20 minutes after you leave." Well, I'm leaving! Hopefully by now, the Night Owl has landed.

I hope and pray that by the time you read this, Aaron will have had a good night's sleep. Please keep praying that his pain stays steadily under control and he does not get anxious when the ups and downs come. I think he will do well with his exercises, etc., as long as he does not have bad pain or the fear thereof.

Recovery Report: Day 5

Progress! Aaron did get his chest tubes out today, and boy is he glad, hallelujah and amen. That meant he also got to take a shower. He can move around much more easily and confidently without those tubes, and although the timing wasn't right for the physical therapists to get him walking in the hall today, he spent time in the chair and can go back and forth to the bathroom pretty well. So he was up for a few minutes numerous times, but he needs to get walking the halls tomorrow.

He was also noticeably more alert and chatty today--especially when he got his visit from Nancy and the teenagers I shall call Chatterbox, ShyGirl, and Hippie. He pouted yesterday when he thought they weren't coming, since apparently we do not qualify as company. He was really glad to see them and hear some news from the outside world and get the cards Nancy brought from church and our mail. Never did try the pizza Chatterbox brought, though.

Tonight we stayed until about 7:00 but did not go back after dinner--now that he was awake enough to think he'd get bored without us! But I am sure he felt tired again when he was left alone, and we'll hope for good sleep tonight. We're hoping for going home Tuesday or Wednesday; we'll see what the doc says now that we're beyond the tubes issue.

Prayers: Thankfulness that the chest tube could come out, for well wishes from friends and family, for more movement and energy. Pray for good sleep, no nausea, good oxygen and blood sugar levels (okay but still being watched), and good physical therapy--time to get walkin'!

Recovery Report: Day 4

Today was better for Aaron, although the morning was still rough. The only thing he has left in him besides an IV is the chest tubes for drainage. They are really sensitive and hurt like anything if pulled or bumped wrong. Apparently he hadn't slept well and this morning he was having some pain before we arrived, so he was not exactly in the mood for the occupational therapist. But he did everything she wanted and moved to sit in the chair.

After he was back in bed they came to take him for a chest x-ray to see if he could get the tubes out. The surgeon came by at that point so we saw him. He mentioned that he might be able to "get out of here" Monday or Tuesday--although they decided the chest tubes needed to stay in another day, so I'm not sure. But he's definitely on track, doing well overall.

The x-ray trip was no fun though, so it took him some time to get settled down and feeling okay again. He ate lunch, said hi to Terry and Janice, at some point he stood up for a bit, he tried to nap in the afternoon, and before dinner they got him in the chair again. He was definitely much more relaxed and waking less easily by the afternoon. Nurse Micah is super nice.

We came back after our dinner and he was sleeping, but soon the night nurse had to check some things and give him meds. She agreed that after that she would bug him only at midnight and 5:00 a.m. when she had to check again. Then Aaron was really cute seeming to want to get everything off his bedtime to-do list, like taking his medicine and deliberately brushing his teeth and getting everything where he wanted it, before lights out. I think he will sleep much better tonight as he is much more relaxed.

Sunday's prayer request: that the chest tubes can get out but the pain is not too bad in the process. I think he will be much more confident to try moving more without fear of pulling them.

Thanks, friends.

Recovery Report: Day 3

Today was tiring and anxious for Aaron. He is out of the anesthesia making him tired, but he still has no energy and is tired by even the smallest movements. This morning they took out a lot of his monitors and lines, which was somewhat painful. They were getting him ready to move out of ICU, so they were doing something or he was anticipating them doing something to him soon all morning. He was getting little rest in there so he was already really tired.

They moved him at about 12:30 and it was rough on him. They had to change connections, recheck all his vitals, ask him questions, and remove the foot of the bed because he's too tall (it's too short). He felt nauseous after the move and one of the widgets attached to him kept beeping and eventually had to be replaced. I think the whole move not only wore him out but also made him feel less secure with less monitoring him--even though he moved because he's doing well and he doesn't need all that stuff and to be watched constantly any more. The nurse now can monitor his signs from wherever she goes, so he should sleep better tonight with far fewer interruptions.

So he did not get up out of bed at all today, although he did eat a bit and was definitely moving his arms and legs around more while in bed. Joyce and Rick and I took turns being in the room and out and about; Janice and Terry came by and Terry and I rode the new tram down the hill just to get out and enjoy the view. However, of course I missed the surgeon's stop by to see Aaron, but he did more reassuring Aaron he's doing well than giving new information. We are getting there earlier tomorrow so we see him on his morning rounds.

After dinner Aaron was sleeping more deeply and didn't even wake when we came by, so we left him to rest. They will make him get up in the chair in the morning and throughout the day and perhaps also walk around. Tomorrow will be a work day, so please pray for strength, energy, motivation, and, uh, shall we say obedience for Aaron as the nurses and therapists push him to do more.

Recovery Report: Day 2

Aaron was doing very well today. We did not get in to see him until about 11:00 because I apparently do not know how to work a standard hotel alarm clock. By then he was sitting in a chair for the second time of the day, which they make him do because it is good for his circulation to move a little and be in a different position. He was much more awake and had a few less things plugged into him. We sat and watched him doze off every couple of minutes for about an hour, then left so he could get back in bed and sleep better.

We went back in at around 2:30. The nice nurse guy (and you thought the girl was cute? lordy!) had taken another IV line out and resettled him, but then they came to do a chest x-ray. Aaron had to have his pillows move and be leaned forward twice, and then when they resettled him on the pillows, he was uncomfortable and felt some pain, which seemed to make him very anxious. A change of position a few minutes later and some more meds seemed to help, but it was kind of rough seeing him go through that. Once he settled down we left him to rest again.

Before we went off for dinner we came in and he was in the chair again and listening to music, which will hopefully start helping the time pass. He is so groggy that he can't stay awake, even for a few minutes of conversation, but he only sleeps for a couple minutes before he wakes up--looks at the clock--I only slept one minute?! Time is frustratingly slow for him right now.

At about 8:00 we came by and said goodnight--he just wanted to sleep. They are keeping him in the ICU again tonight just so they can watch him closely, but all his vitals numbers are great, his breathing into the plastic thingy is great, and so on. He should move to a regular room in the morning, and I think the physical therapist may try to get him on his feet.

Time to rest. This is going to be a marathon.

Surgery Report 1: So Far So Good

Real quick because I am TIRED and it's way too late: Everything went great today with the surgery. They did replace his valve as well as the weak section of the aorta because they thought it would last longer. He is in the cardiac ICU with his very own nice nurse. He's been very stable, good heartbeat and breathing, and they took the breathing tube out tonight. But he is still totally stoned and probably won't even remember we were there. Hopefully he may get out of ICU tomorrow but we'll see how he responds when they make him move from bed to chair in the morning.

Please keep praying for no complications, for waking up to be gentle, for pain to be well controlled (seems to be so far), for strength and perseverance to do what they ask him to do to get strong again.

I had Aaron's parents (Rick and Joyce), Pastor Jim, Nancy, and Billie keeping me company today along with all of you waiting and praying. It's good to be loved. Thank you, friends.

What is your only comfort in life and in death?

That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death—
to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood,
and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.
He also watches over me in such a way
that not a hair can fall from my head
without the will of my Father in heaven:
in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.

Because I belong to him,
Christ, by his Holy Spirit,
assures me of eternal life
and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready
from now on to live for him.

The Heidelberg Catechism, Q&A 1

The Only Way Out Is Through

God is good, all the time.

What a long, strange trip these past couple of weeks have been.

We had our garage sale, and we got closer to (paying for) bringing Anna home.
We had Mother's Day, and strangely enough I was validly wished a happy one.
We had a court date set and high hopes of seeing family and friends on our way to Ethiopia in just a few short weeks.
And then . . .
And then . . .
Why can't we just be happy and excited for one week? Why does something always have to go wrong? Seriously, God . . . what the heck?

Aaron went in to his cardiologist for a routine visit to get his meds updated. The doctor read his charts and a test from last summer and went to check something. When he came back, he recommended surgery. As the kids say . . . WTF?

We waited through the week to get set up with an appointment and go up to Portland for more tests and consultation with a surgeon experienced with Marfan Syndrome. When three doctors (or are they lawyers?) walk in the room, you know they mean business. They determined that Aaron's aortic root (where the main artery, the aorta, comes out of the heart) has expanded right to the point where the risk increases so much that they recommend surgery.

Thanks for noticing that, you know, last summer.

Then again, thanks for not noticing, or we wouldn't have Anna.

The surgeon said he should get it taken care of and there's no reason to wait. Uhh, that you know of. I got one, how 'bout this: We're adopting a baby. In about 6 weeks. In Ethiopia.

Long doctoral pause.

Oh.
Wow.
Hmmm.
"First let me say I think it's wonderful you're doing that." Yeah, you're just stalling now, doc.

We talked about how the adoption process works, how we wanted to travel in six weeks and how little control we have over the process. Could Aaron travel first and have the surgery late July? He said wasn't his first choice but didn't think it was crazy to consider; he wasn't ruling it out. But . . . it adds risk. How much risk? Unfunny thing about Marfan Syndrome: no one really has any idea. We talked about surgery late July, but we needed to think about it and he wanted to show the tests to more people and think about it. We'd talk Monday. Fair enough.

So, that'll kinda put a damper on your big baby party weekend.

Some people seemed to think this was a no-brainer decision, but trust me, it was pure agony. We wanted to get Anna home as soon as possible, as everything had seemed to be lined up perfectly for, and to share the incredible experience of traveling to Ethiopia for our first week together as a family. And most importantly, we were terrified that doing surgery before court or even just the agency finding out about this before court would jeopardize our ability to bring her home at all. Then there were all the other summer plans so long anticipated and worked for and prayed for: for Aaron to lead the teenagers he's been growing so close to all year at Young Life camp, for him to be in his friend of 20 years' wedding, to see our distant family members and friends . . .

I had a brief conversation with the doctor Monday, we kept thinking and talking with a few wise friends, and our pendulum began to swing from we'll wait to we won't wait. But the doctor still hadn't looked over the tests again, so I stayed by the phone the rest of the week. Or rather the phone stayed by me. Seriously, I took it to the mailbox and the bathroom. That kind of companionship will make you crazy.

Last Friday we finally had a real conversation with the surgeon and decided to do the surgery Wednesday, June 6. They will replace a section of Aaron's aorta with a plastic section. They will also either repair his damaged valves at that spot or replace it with a mechanical one, in which case he'll be on blood thinners, so we are now hoping for a repair job. He will be in the hospital about a week.

The doctor said the soonest he could possibly travel would be 4 weeks, but they say 6-8 weeks for full recovery. People keep saying their 80-year-old grannies were out riding motorcycles after 60 days or whatever, so we'll see. When we heard our court date was successful, I told the agency about our situation and they were extremely supportive--big relief. I am sure they will work with us on travel dates but we haven't gotten that far yet.

I don't think I have ever been as stressed as I was that week of waiting on the doctor and deciding. Even my body was revolting, and I don't just mean how I looked. Aaron has been having trouble sleeping, and although part of the load is lifted with court done, this is still an anxious time. We trust--somehow inside us we know--God will bring us to the other side. But that doesn't make it easy. It's a rough road ahead, but the only way out is through.

All the time, God is good.

“You can’t conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.”

—Graham Greene

The Judge Finds . . .

In the case of the Wetzels and the country of Ethiopia vs. stupid delays, the court finds in favor of . . . the Wetzels! We are officially Mom and Dad to Anna Jubilee!

And just as icing on the cake, we got three new pictures from a recently-returned traveler (thank you, E.W.!). Our daughter just keeps getting cuter, doesn't she?

















Tomorrow has enough worries of its own . . . today, we rejoice!

10 Reasons the Birthday Boy Will Be an Awesome Dad

Happy birthday, Aaron! Let's get cheesy and recognize 10 of the many reasons I love him and he'll be a great dad.

10. He's bionic (or will be soon).
9. He's tall enough to place things out of reach of children (and his wife).
8. He laughs out loud. Hopefully not at me when I don't know what I'm doing with the kid.
7. He's not a big pushover like me. He can be firm with kids.
6. He's been taking better care of himself so he can keep up with Anna (although I will say this is making me look bad . . . please pass the Snickers).
5. He strives to love the Lord our God with all his heart, mind, soul, and strength.
4. His commitment is true and total. He never even considers giving up on me--even when I would.
3. He has a true appreciation of toys, especially Legos.
2. He is real. He has no interest in pretending and sees through those who are fake in words, motives, facades.
1. He is easygoing enough to say hey . . . spit happens!

PS: Yep, this is a filler post (albeit a true one). Until Friday I'll be using my Get Out of Blogging Free card, although not due to dial-up.

Court's Coming

Our court date is next Thursday, May 31. Once our case is heard and approved, we are officially, legally, technically, permanently, and in all other ways the mother and father of Anna Jubilee.

I am anxious for it to be over and done with. I don't like to tell God what to do (okay, let's get real: yes I do), but in my humble opinion we can NOT afford a delay. Please pray that court is successful on the 31st or . . . somehow even earlier!

I will try to post soon on the plethora of baby gear we now own and other scintillating topics.

Any questions on anything else (ahem) . . . email me. Some things are best discussed off the Internets, since they are, you know, a series of tubes.

Anna at 4+ Months

We received an update on Anna today:

• 10 pounds 2 ounces
• 23 1/2 inches
• 100% adorable!

Sale Report; Court Date

The Great Garage Sale weekend was . . . appropriately great. We did pretty well--lots of people, steady sales, $750 in the bank, and only an entire trailer load left over for the thrift store. Thank you to all those who helped work and make it fun! This sale's Workhorse/Selfless Servant Award goes to Margaret Ann, the only person who at age, uh, a lot more than me will outwork you for three days straight and then call you to thank you for letting her do it!

We have a court date set for May 31. This takes place in Ethiopia without us. I am going to be getting nervous because delays do occasionally happen. If our court is unsuccessful or postponed, besides the general suckiness of waiting longer, there is no way Aaron will go to Young Life camp. But God knows how much the kids and new leaders need him there and has taken care of everything this far. Pray that he ensures success for court and comforts us in our anxiety about it.

After court our embassy date will be scheduled for about a month later. That is the date we plan our travel around. The earliest would be the very end of June . . . so it's possible we'll try to pull off some crazy scheme of going to Michigan for Justin and Toshia's wedding and going from there to Ethiopia. Maybe we will meet our baby on our tenth wedding anniversary! However, that would mean leaving here in one month. Aack! That is exciting yet terrifying because we have so much to do beforehand and because we can't really plan our travel until after court. So I can't plan travel until after court but I want to start traveling just two weeks after court?!? I am going to start calling the expert travel agents and see who has an impressive solution to that little dilemma.

That is just some of what's going on. Please pray for us . . . this is a very stressful time. More information soon.

Anna's Age and Size; Out with the Junk, in with the Pink!

I think an update is overdue--although it has to be fast because we're having a garage sale in 24 hours and I'm not even close to ready!

Anna is now four months old. Yes, just four months now, because her estimated birthdate was changed from December 7 to January 7. The main orphanage doctor saw her and disagreed with the first doctor's assessment of her developmental markers. Unfortunately no word on exactly what that means, but I guess this is not uncommon. But the more accurate the better, and we are happy to have her a little younger (one month longer until she's a teenager, ha ha). This does, however, ruin the cool story that her birthday of December 7 was the exact day we dropped off our completed dossier at the agency. Ah well. We'll say it was exactly one month after. If anyone happens to have a newspaper or the like from January 7, could you save it for me?

At her medical exam on April 7, she was just shy of 8 pounds and 21 inches long. Tiny little girl! Americans are born that big! But Ethiopians tend to be smaller, and it's possible she'll start growing faster now that she's in good orphanage care and once she gets on super-nutrition-ized U.S. food. Or she may always be tiny. I am anxious for a medical update to see how she's growing. I look at baby clothes and some look so tiny, but then some make me think, "If she's that small, this'll fit her in a year!"

Mom was out here for a fun visit and brought a bunch of clothes she'd picked up at the resale shop and some gifts from others. We couldn't help but buy a few more things so her closet has a significant amount of pink (and a great football rattle) in it already. I also bought some organization-type things for her room and things we'll need for travel to Ethiopia. Church is throwing us a "baby party" (I think the word shower is verboten lest all the men run away) after church on the 20th. You are invited.

We are having our second fundraising garage sale Friday and Saturday. I didn't advertise but Saturday is Great Garage Sale day, when everyone has their sales, so I figured since tons of people will be out cruising for sales, we might as well throw everything out there and see how we do. Yes, I could really use some help getting ready and in the mornings which tend to be busiest. Time to get to work!

World AIDS Orphan Day

May 7 is World AIDS Orphan Day.

Please read my previous post from World AIDS Day. I really don't know what else to say, except that since I wrote that, at least 948,000 children have lost a parent from a one hundred percent preventable disease. And not only should this not be happening, it does not have to be happening--but we have to be the ones to stop it.

Will you do something this year? Will I?

The (Other) Call That Shook the World

I told the story of us getting The Call, but the call story I will remember just as much is calling my mom to tell her. You probably have to know her to appreciate this, but know that 1) she is really really excited for her long-awaited first grandchild, 2) she really wanted it to be a girl, 3) she is a first-grade teacher, and 4) she is on the hyper-emotional side! (Sorry, Mom—if you want to defend yourself, you'll have to figure out how to leave comments on here!)

After we printed the photos and absorbed the referral information a bit, it was about 12:15 here—just after-school time for Mom in Michigan. Perfect. I called her school and asked for her. Mom had told me about how when she was a young married gal she and her friends had a deal that when one of them found out they were pregnant, they would call the others collect—so you knew if you got a collect call from Linda, Judy, Cindy that they were having a baby. So I asked the person at Mom's school to page her saying that she had a collect call (I didn't really call collect). After a minute Mom got on the phone with her professional teacher voice:

"Hello, this is Linda H."
Me: "You have a collect call from the mother of your grandchild."
Mom—confused: "Who is this?"
"It's Wendy."
"Wendy! Oh!" (starting to shriek)
"It's a girl."
"It's a girl?! IT'S A GIIIIIIIIRL!!!! OH! OH!" (and other extremely high-pitched, loud, shrieky noises!)

And all the other teacher ladies started shrieking too! The yelping and ohhhing went on for several minutes as Aaron and I stood there laughing. She was completely blubbering and freaking out. More people kept coming in the teacher's lounge to see what in the world was going on, so she'd tell them and they'd all shriek and laugh again. Finally I said, "Do you want me to tell you anything, or do you just want to keep screaming?" It was so funny—and fun! I will never forget that . . . or let her live it down!

She is coming to visit next week and, after showing baby Anna's photo to all the world and hitting the local baby resale shop, called her travel agent to see how many suitcases/pounds she can bring—Lord have mercy and bring more grandchildren so this one isn't spoiled to death!

I love you, Mom . . . Anna's grandma at last!

More Photos from Referral Day

We got these from the agency today--two staff members were in Ethiopia last week and were able to hold Anna and tell her she gets to live by the ocean. They were not kidding when they said she is so cute and so much cuter than the first pictures!

Oh, what big eyes you have, my dear!

Getting "The Call"

I had vowed that Thursday would be a productive day, since we would be gone all weekend. I work at home, so I took care of some things around the house, sat down at my computer, and buckled down.

For forty minutes.

I was sitting at my desk minding my own business when the phone rang. "Agency!" blipped through my mind for just a nanosecond, but I didn't really think it would be; I thought such a call would come earlier in the morning and didn't give much thought at all to who it might be.

"Hello?"
"Hello, is Wendy or Aaron available?"
"This is Wendy."
"Hi, Wendy. This is So-and-so from Such-and-Such Adoptions."
" . . . Hi." (suspicious)
"How are you today?"
" . . . I'm fine . . ." (very suspicious)
"I have some good news for you."
" . . . . . . Really? Like . . . really good?" (You had better not be kidding, lady!)
"Yes. I have your referral."
"Oh my word!"
"I'm looking at her picture and she's so adorable. Very photogenic!"

Adrenaline took over my body as I realized this was really happening and we had a daughter. The agency person asked me to first tell her where to email the photos and information. She asked me what I wanted her to tell me. Uhh . . . everything! I believe I said, "My brain is starting to leave my body. I can't think of questions. You start talking and I'll interrupt you."

She told me the basics and I attempted to make notes. As soon as I hung up I closed my laptop and called Aaron's cell phone. I said, "I need you to come home right away." He said, "Why? What's the matter?" "We got our referral!" I scared the heck out of him--he figured we had a burst pipe or some such disaster he needed to fix before we left town.

He got home in about 5 minutes. We ran upstairs to my computer and opened it. Check email! NO EMAIL! No! Maybe she had to talk to someone else before she got a chance to send it. I read Aaron my notes from the phone call. Okay, check email! No new messages! Check! No new messages! Check spam filter, maybe it doesn't know her address . . . nothing! Check other email account, maybe she didn't listen to me . . . check! check! check!

I called the agency. Voice mail—what, did you go to lunch? (I have since realized that you always get this, then press a number for the person or general line, duh.) Check email! Okay, okay . . . killing time--what's our plan after this? Who do we call first? Do we tell them the name we picked right away? Okay, moms first, tell them whatever. CHECK EMAIL! Dial agency again . . . receiving 1 message—got it! Open the pictures!

. . . Ohhhhhhhhh! She's perfect!

I'm pretty sure our call story is not at all out of the ordinary as referral calls go, but the inability to get the email was pretty funny. Not as funny as my call to my mom, though--I'll post that next.

Referral Aftermath / What Happens Next

First of all, thank you for all the congratulations and well wishes this week! It has been wonderful to hear from so many of you, and we are so blessed to have such incredibly supportive friends and family. You all seem to share your love as naturally as if no other response is even possible, but not everyone experiences such support--so thank you.

Several people have asked, "So when do you get to go get her?" The short answer is: in a couple months. First we must have a successful court date in Ethiopia. This date should be scheduled within a couple weeks and hopefully take place within a month or so. That court date makes us the eternally legal parents of Anna! However, after that an embassy date also must be scheduled--that appointment takes place at least 20 days after court and is when we get her U.S. visa to bring her home. So we plan our travel around that date--if all goes well, it could be late June. Start praying for soon and successful court!

The last six days have certainly been wild and wacky. Suddenly having a daughter kinda throws off your plans for the day, ya know? After we got our pumping adrenaline under control, we had a billion phone calls to make and then congratulations flooding in. We had to get ready for the youth weekend and get Aaron and our gear to church by 11:30 a.m. Friday. I actually got gas, got cash, came home, ate lunch, paid a bill, forwarded the referral information to the pediatrician to look at, and was on the phone with the agency asking the questions I couldn't think of at the first call at 12:30 when the kids were loading up at church. Fifty-one hours later (only about 11 of which were sleep) we were back from the youth extravaganza, and 27 hours later we were back in action for Young Life Club. With more agency and doctor and congratulatory phone calls and emails in between, of course! Now I have boatloads of work to get done in a week and more referral-related details to wrap up, and Aaron is sick. Aaaugh!

Best part of the weekend? Randomly asking kids "Have you seen my baby?" and whipping out the photos!

Coming soon: the story of The Call . . . and The (Other) Call That Shook the World!

IT'S A GIRL!

Today we received an amazing phone call. We are thrilled to introduce . . . OUR DAUGHTER!!!!

She is 4 1/2 months old. Her name is Yegetanesh, which means “You belong to God.”

We are giving her the full name Anna Jubilee Yegetanesh.

In Hebrew Anna means grace. In the New Testament Anna was a prophetess who recognized Jesus as Messiah. Grace is a gift you don’t deserve. The most beautiful gift ever given. “Grace...it’s a name for a girl / It’s also a thought that changed the world...”

Jubilee means joy, but also so much more: it calls to mind freedom, rest, redemption, justice, forgiveness. The biblical concept of jubilee stems from Leviticus 25, where God instructed the Israelites to make every seventh year a sabbath and consecrate the fiftieth year—year after seven sets of seven—as a Jubilee year: a time of rest from harvesting the land, relief of debts, freeing of slaves, redemption of land. The jubilee freed the poor from the burden of debt. In the Christian tradition jubilee also calls us to rejoice in our freedom from the burden of our spiritual debts—to find joy in the gift of forgiveness through God’s grace. “Lift your voice / It’s the year of Jubilee . . .”

Yegetanesh means “You belong to God.” By grace you are ours to care for here on earth; with joy we offer you back to God.

Anna Jubilee Yegetanesh Wetzel.

Born December 7.

Born...at the right time.

Thank you for all your prayers and encouragement as we've waited for this day. Watch for more updates soon--after we spent a weekend away with the youth group!

An Update You Can't Refuse

I feel like I should drop a quick update before the weekend hits and I am surrounded by 17 giddy teenagers (and 4 weeping adults) in vans and then with 10,000 more screaming teenagers at a stadium youth event. Yikes.

The big news is a blessing that has not really sunk in for me yet: We own a new MommyMobile! Yes, we have a new used minivan. We really needed to get something soon because we already inflict cruel and unusual punishment every time we squeeze a six-foot teenager or three into the miniature backseat of our little Suzuki "buggy." That was not going to work with a car seat in the equation. Our friend Nancy got a new truck . . . yada yada yada . . . we have her van. Let's just say it was an offer we couldn't refuse!

You know what that means . . .

This beauty is available.

You know you want it. What's not to like about a vehicle that's the same age as it's owner?

Interesting trades considered.

Where All the Wait Times Are Above Average

Greetings from Adoption World, where all the women are obsessive, all the men are impatient, and all the children's wait times are above average.

Today marks 16 weeks of waiting for referral for us. The agency told me a couple months ago that 16 weeks was the average wait. I can't decide if I want to call and ask them if that's still true or not; seems like now most people have been waiting longer than that. Still, now that we're above average in weeks (to go with our looks and intelligence, of course), any phone call could be The Call. Forgive me if I sound disappointed if it's only you.

Today we get Hep A boosters and round one of Hep B shots. Will I pass out? As always, please: no wagering.


Update: I remained conscious but am now experiencing soreness in my coffee-drinking arm. Not good, comrades. Not good.

Miscellaneous Thoughts, Rants, and Tax Tips

Yellow fever! No, not the shots--that'll be in a few weeks. I'm talking about my scrumdiddlyumptous golden upstairs. I spent three days clambering around spiral stairs like a monkey and straddling a twelve-foot-high loft half-wall like cowgirl--curse you, architect of crazy nonstop-curved-walled spaceship houses! Then a bookshelf warehouse exploded up there. I am enjoying the (almost) end result, though. I think I'll really like having my office up there; I noticed yesterday that it's twenty feet in the air closer to the bald eagle cruising around behind the house. I still have to haul up all my books (good workout) and desk (good luck) and piles of papers (good lord!), but the bedroom side is very clean and cozy. I hope to have the baby's room painted by the time Mom visits, since green is her favorite color and all.

We'd better have our referral by then too, because--besides all the other reasons--I need major Mom-help on baby gear. I went into the used baby stuff shop on Saturday and couldn't bring myself to buy a thing. I just didn't know where to start, since I have no idea of size or anything. Part of me wanted to buy; part of me wanted to cry. I chatted up the nice shop guy about our baby.

I did buy coffee and wonderful apple turnovers at the new European-African-Carribean deli. (Yes, I was scoping for Ethiopian food and black friends.) Coastal dwellers, stop by and support the Volta Deli, on 101 by the hippie music store! I chatted up the nice baker lady about our baby. She said Ethiopians are very beautiful people, which is exactly what all the adoption agencies say, but I had figured it was just biased PR. Apparently it's universally known. So there.

Mr. Famous Singer Guy finally has everything he wants for his grant application. We should hear by May 1. Really hope we get something from that one. I tried starting on some more grants today but found it depressing. Maybe it's the rain, but it felt like doing a dossier all over again.

The good news about taxes: we are getting a refund!

The bad news about taxes: WARNING TO SELF-EMPLOYED ADOPTERS: the adoption tax credit can NOT be applied to the self-employment portion of your taxes. This means that if your income is too low, your (non-self-employment) tax liability might be too low to take the full credit. Even over five years if you are really lucky. I never thought I'd say I hope I can increase my tax liability. Nice to know that those with cash to cover their adoption expenses will get it all back right away so they can help the economy by going to Disneyland or something while those who need the help to enable them to adopt (the purpose of the credit, no?) will get a tiny check and remain too broke to adopt again. Mmmm, it kind of reminds me of my other favorite system, health care . . .

"It’s simple. Most people who can’t afford health insurance also are too poor to owe taxes, but if you give them a deduction from the taxes they don’t owe, they can use the money they’re not getting back from what they haven’t given to buy the health care they can’t afford."

--Stephen Colbert

I apologize for the random and ranting nature of this post. This stuff was cluttering my head so I figured it'd be better to clutter the Internet. This is probably a good argument for the Internet not being free of charge!

Happy Easter!

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!Photo: JesusMafa.com

(We've been waiting 15 weeks and 3 days.)

Prayers, Progress, Procrastination

After a long last week of holding our collective breath, several families from our Ethiopian adoption Internet group had successful court dates in Ethiopia. Some had been waiting so long for referrals, then court dates, and then had their court dates rescheduled for two weeks later. Last week at small group I felt I must speak my prayer for these families waiting for court, and my eyes could not stay dry. And truly this time it was not for me—not for the factor that we will probably not get a referral until some families get through court and set to travel but truly for the ache of waiting these friends across the country are feeling. This is a purer prayer, but not an easier one. Some of them have waited so, so long already. How much longer? How long, O Lord?

Oh, when we started it was all so fast, it was all such a breeze. Woe to those adopting from slow countries, we thought! We must not rush things or we’ll end up traveling smack during the school year. Now wait times are skyrocketing and complications are being added and though we are hopeful that the floodgates of referrals will open soon, we hover between optimism and resignation and despair that we will hold our child before the fall. We survive only on solidarity and stories of the kids who are home already.

And ice cream. I have been enjoying lots of ice cream lately. And pickles. But I have yet to combine them.

Today I spoke with two clinics about travel shots ($305 each just for consult and yellow fever shot?!). Left a message with adoption pediatrician in Portland. Sent updated information and still more sappy, shameless paragraphs to a grant ministry that in my opinion already knows far too much about us. My big project is to start slathering delicious yellow paint all over our upstairs so we can move my office up there and I can slather delicious green paint down here. However, I was apparently feeling the nesting urge much more strongly when standing in front of the glorious rainbow display of paint samples Saturday much stronger than I am feeling it now that I’m faced with the dirty work. Why do today what you can put off until you have ten thousand things to do before traveling?

For a Girl Like Mine, No Matter How Beautiful

In a recent New York Times article, one brave white dad recounts his triumphs over the whole new world of black girl’s hair care here: “I Have Taken On My Daughter’s Hair and Won.”

Somehow I suspect that in this household, the handling of hair will fall to me—especially in the case of a girl’s hair. I have only the most negligible skills in brushing, braiding, parting, and prettying (see: my head, circa 1985–2007). I will even confess that many years ago when adopting a black child was only the most abstract of concepts for us, my husband pointed out the different hair and skin care needs of black children, and I pooh-poohed it. Isn’t that a paranoid stereotype? How different could it be? “Of all the things I don’t know about taking care of a baby,” I said, “that is way down the list of things I’m worried about!”

In a sense this is still true: I still have many more basic and urgent things to learn about caring for a baby! However, this is no longer way down my list of concerns. In fact, it’s been high enough on the list that I’ve actually learned a good deal already—chiefly, the importance that I keep learning. As white adoptive parents we hear over and over that hair is important in the African-American community—for a variety of cultural reasons—and that we must keep our children looking good and feeling that their hair and skin are beautiful. We fear the unsolicited scrutiny and hands on our children’s hair even as we secretly seek the ultimate stamp of approval: compliments from black women. We wonder if we will learn to braid and twist and cornrow well enough; we wonder how to tell her that the amount of kinkiness her hair has is just enough; and in a world where every girl’s sense of self is under fire, where white girls want to be tanner and black girls want to be lighter and every girl wants to be thinner or taller or sexier . . . we wonder if it will be enough.

Please watch the award-winning student film “A Girl Like Me” at the Media Matters Film Festival website. It is #2 in the boxes on the right side of the screen. (Number 1, “Slip of the Tongue,” is pretty dang good too.) And tell a girl you know she’s beautiful for something she thinks is not, for something outside of—or rather inside of—her body.

O God,
help me
to believe
the truth about myself,
no matter
how beautiful it is!

—Macrina Wiederkehr, “A Prayer to Own Your Own Beauty,” in Seasons of the Heart
(San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1991), 71.

The Process after Referral

Or, Five Unknowns Don’t Make a Known

If you’re reading here you probably know that we’re waiting for our referral—waiting to receive The Call saying we’ve been matched with our child, for our turn to ooh and ahh over a couple unflattering photos of a baby in an oversized diaper and off-gender clothes being propped up in an orange plastic chair. But after that glorious day when we officially accept our referral, a few more things still have to happen before our little episode of Bringing Home Baby.

A big variable is Ethiopia’s three-month rule: if a child was found abandoned, they must be in the orphanage’s care for three months before being adopted in order to allow time for any extended family members to come forward and say they will take care of the child. Many of the children—perhaps most infants, though I’m not sure—have been abandoned, but I’ve never heard of anyone coming forward. Ethiopians do highly value children and many families care for extended family members, so if a child is abandoned, most likely the options have been exhausted and none of the family are able to help. An abandoned child is not left to die but left to be found—being taken in to an orphanage care center being by far their best chance at a better life. Babies can be legally relinquished to the government, such as at police station, but I believe this is culturally stigmatized, so they are often simply left somewhere busy where someone will find the child quickly. Perhaps the mother watches from a distance to make sure. I cannot fathom a life where this is your best option, but if you are dying in abject poverty, the unthinkable becomes an act of love.

An abandoned child must be in the orphanage for three months before court can take place. If a parent or other family member brings in the child, this waiting period is not necessary because they sign papers legally relinquishing their rights. When we accept our referral and any necessary wait time is up, documents are sent to the Ethiopian Ministry of Labor and Social Affairs (MOLSA) and a court date is set.

This court date is when we officially, legally become the child’s parents. It normally takes place about a month after referral, but Ethiopia made a new law in January (without warning—I’m pretty sure this is Madonna’s fault) saying that if the parents relinquished, they must appear in court date to confirm their relinquishment. I’m a little fuzzy on the details of this, but it’s apparently slowing things down a bit because agencies/orphanages have to find the parents again and bring them to Addis Ababa, even if they live days away. I’m not sure what happens if they can’t be located, are too sick to travel, or have died; perhaps other family members can appear instead. A court date can be unsuccessful if the case isn’t heard when scheduled (just happened to a bunch of folks I know) or more documents are requested for some reason. So once we get our referral we will start praying like crazy for successful court!

After a successful court date, we are legally parents, but an embassy date must be scheduled. When we travel to Addis, we will spend one day at the U.S. embassy getting a visa for our child. I believe this can’t happen sooner than twenty days after court. We plan our travel around this date.

The estimate used to be that we travel six to eight weeks after referral. Now court seems to be taking a little longer, so we’d better figure two months. Then there is the possible three-months-wait complication . . . and let’s not even talk about the fact that the Ethiopia courts completely shut down in August and September! This is why I quit counting weeks—it was actually the estimating and re-estimating of when we might travel that was making me nuts. Now, I am as optimistic as anyone, but do you see why I am shifting my expectations to June travel instead of May? Of course ye of greater faith are welcome to still root for May! But an awful lot of things will have to go right for that to happen. Some of them must be in motion already. I wonder what’s going on there on the other side of the world.

A Prayer for Responsibility for Children

I do have many thoughts which I hope to blog soon. Until then, think on this--and pray.

A Prayer for Responsibility for Children

We pray for children
who sneak popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbook,
who can never find their shoes.

And we pray for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes",
who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.

We pray for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfulls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.

And we pray for those
who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.

We pray for children
who spend their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery stores and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed, and never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at,
and whose smiles can make us cry.

We pray for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who haven't ever seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.

We pray for children who want to be carried,
and for those who must,
for those we never give up on
and for those who don't get a second chance.

For those we smother...and for those who will grab
the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.

Ina J. Hughs, Children 1990 (Children's Defense Fund, 1990)

Beware the 5 D’s

Once upon a time in a land called Higher Ground . . . an idea was hatched and a man named Jeff B. fell out of his chair because it was so awesome. Some youth leaders threw chairs and trash all over a room and played grinding music with strobe lights, a man named Steph VH spoke some wise words, and Destruction Night lived happily ever after in the youth ministry hall of fame. And because a wonderful woman named Sara emailed them to me, the 5 D’s lived on to remind me this week of truth:

• DOUBT makes you question God’s work and his goodness
• DISCOURAGEMENT makes you look at your problems rather than at God
• DIVERSION makes the wrong things seem attractive so that you will want them more than the right things
• DEFEAT makes you feel like a failure so that you don’t even try
• DELAY makes you put off doing something so that it never gets done

I was definitely wrestling with a sumo-sized heap of Discouragement and Defeat after Tuesday’s call (Debacle?). Some days it just feels like no matter what you do, if you work hard and play by the rules, if you’re kind and reasonable and polite, if you prepare and save and sacrifice and jump through a thousand hoops, well, nothing happens. All you get is . . . tired. You wonder what you are thinking to take on this outrageous process called adoption and this monumental responsibility called parenting when you can’t even seem to handle your life as it is.

But then . . . you walk by the sea, you are offered a gift, you get the giggles, you listen to a friend. You find you have companions on the path, and you walk on. You determine that D is for DONE worrying about tomorrow’s troubles today, and lo and behold it feels much better than wallowing in destruction.

Assurance.

Encouragement.

Redirection.

Perseverance.

Action.

Note: I believe the 5 D’s were scammed from the Life Application Study Bible notes.
The others were gifts from friends.

An Appeal for Appeals Prayer

Please don’t take this as whining—I know we are extraordinarily blessed, and I know American Christians don't like to talk about money, although perhaps the world would be better off if we did—but we have a money/insurance-related issue for which I would like to ask for prayer. Tomorrow (Tuesday) I will have a conference call with an appeals panel from our health insurance company. Aaron had his eye surgery with a doctor in their “extended network” rather than his regular “preferred provided” doctor since (1) preferred provider doctor sent us to extended doctor and (2) extended doctor actually knew what to do with a Marfan’s patient and specialized in high-risk surgeries. The insurance company gives less coverage for extended doctors; this is my second level appeal for an exception.

Basically we are talking about the difference between us paying a depressing amount versus us paying an exorbitantly outrageously painful amount. The frustrating thing is how much we’ll have to pay even in the best case scenario. It’s discouraging watching our adoption funds disappear into a cloud of “coinsurance” (I mean the funds that we had before, not what we’ve raised since starting, which is set aside separately). And it makes me wonder how much we’ll end up paying for the extra checkups and labs our baby is sure to need when he/she gets home. But one thing at a time.

Please pray that I have clarity as I prepare to present our “case,” clear and convincing words, control over my emotions (unless they’re needed...), and peace. Having someone on the panel who has experienced needing specialists for a special condition wouldn’t hurt either. Thanks.

Geekwear for All Ages

I can't even decide which one I like best. Oh, our poor, poor child . . .

No News Is Normal News

We are in the phase of our adoption where there's nothing to report that's of any interest to anyone. In the last couple weeks a number of people have asked, "How's your adoption process going?" or "Have you heard anything?" With a pregnancy you don't have any down time where your body's not doing anything. So somehow I sometimes feel like a schmuck saying no, there's nothing to do, nothing to hear. Just waiting. And expecting to wait a couple more months.

Now that our dossier is in Addis (since Dec. 22), we are waiting for the orphanage board to match us with a baby through their G-14 Classified super-duper mysteriously secret individual selection process. This presumably consists mostly of it being our turn to take the next infant under 6 months (which is the age we requested), but they like to make it sound like we're "personally matched" somehow. Since even our U.S. agency has no idea how they do this and other agencies use the same orphanage (it's a large system of centers), it's a surprise to the agency just as much as to us when the referral comes.

That means there's nothing to hear, no updates to be expected. Some parents get bent out of shape about this, but from the agency's perspective I can see why you'd focus your energy on other things than randomly calling parents to say, "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I don't know a thing and I won't in the future." No news is normal news. They're working on it. Don't panic. (I think the agency-parent relationship is much like the publisher-author or editor-author relationship in some ways, but that's for another post.)

However, "just" waiting, as any adoptive parent will tell you, is not at all easy--though this not-counting thing is working pretty well for me so far. It also doesn't mean we're not doing anything to prepare. I have a to-do-before-baby list that's a mile long! Would you like a sample?

• get Hep A and travel shots
• apply for more grants
  
• child care/CPR class
  
• deal with insurance company re: surgery and adoption clinic
  
• call OHSU adoption clinic about referral review, first checkups
  
• paint upstairs, get bookshelves, move office
• paint, curtains, etc. for baby's room
• plan next garage sale
• buy baby essentials
• read baby care books in desperate attempt to learn what in the world to do with a baby!
  

While y'all are praying for our baby to (somehow miraculously) arrive in May, could you also pray for miraculous productivity and sanity in our house?

Weeks to Weeks, Dust to Dust

We’ve been waiting for 9 weeks.

I gave up counting for Lent.

Half-Distracted

We have been officially waiting for 8 weeks (not that I'm counting...). So we are halfway to the average waiting time of 16 weeks. That doesn't mean we'll get our referral then, necessarily, but it's the point at which I'll allow myself to expect it and start getting jumpy when the phone rings.

The last couple weeks have been pretty easy, but I'm still glad for the distraction of our special guests, all the way from Michigan, Justin and Toshia! This week went fast since to make room for them I had to remove the piles of junk which have been covering my office since before Christmas. (Hey, this room is much bigger now!) They arrive today and before we know it we'll be at 9 weeks down.

Are you enjoying my viewer map on the right side of the blog as much as I am? (Alas, no more Singapore hits since my brother is on his way home.) Identify yourselves, blog stalkers! You don't have to have a Blogger blog or Google account to leave a comment, so please say hi and share your thoughts or blog topic requests.

You read this? You're so smart!

This isn't particularly adoption-related, but I thought it was a very interesting article and research on praising for natural ability versus praising for effort. I suggest you read the entire thing: "How Not to Talk to Your Kids: The Inverse Power of Praise."

For a few decades, it’s been noted that a large percentage of all gifted students (those who score in the top 10 percent on aptitude tests) severely underestimate their own abilities. Those afflicted with this lack of perceived competence adopt lower standards for success and expect less of themselves. They underrate the importance of effort, and they overrate how much help they need from a parent.

When parents praise their children’s intelligence, they believe they are providing the solution to this problem. . . . The constant praise is meant to be an angel on the shoulder, ensuring that children do not sell their talents short.

But a growing body of research—and a new study from the trenches of the New York public-school system—strongly suggests it might be the other way around. Giving kids the label of “smart” does not prevent them from underperforming. It might actually be causing it. . . .

Dweck discovered that those who think that innate intelligence is the key to success begin to discount the importance of effort. I am smart, the kids’ reasoning goes; I don’t need to put out effort. Expending effort becomes stigmatized—it’s public proof that you can’t cut it on your natural gifts.

Thinking about the high school students here, I do see a severe tendency to give up, to think that if they're not one of the favored few labeled smart and college-bound, it hardly matters what they do. They don't have the skills to push themselves, since they don't see reason to put out the effort.

On the parenting side, it's another warning not to project ourselves onto our kids, praising them for only what they are naturally good at--or what we wish we were good at, because it boosts our egos to have a smart/athletic/beautiful/American Idol kid. Children do not exist to make adults feel good about themselves. It reminds me of this saying, which I am trying hard to remember as a particular teenager frustrates me:

It is my job to love her, not her job to love me.

Save your old ¢ell phone$!

Please save your old cell phones and inkjet printer cartridges!

We are beginning to collect these items as a fundraiser for our adoption. A company will pay us for each one that can be reused and recycle those that can't. They can be any brand, working or not working. This will also help the environment since cell phones contain toxic materials. One cell phone can pollute up to 132,000 liters of drinking water!

Our goal is to raise $1000 with this fundraiser. We will need some help! Please spread the word to everyone you know. We can give you some flyers if you like. Could you put a drop box in your workplace, school, or church? We can provide a sign and box. (If you live far away from us, I could arrange for you to send the items in directly with prepaid postage rather than shipping them to me.) Let Wendy know if you have any questions.

Thank you for any donations or help you can give!


Note to clarify: Broken phones can be recycled, but I will only get money for the ones that work (can be reprogrammed to be reused). So if you live far away and have a broken phone, just find a place or person nearby that will take it--they're out there! If you're nearby, I'll take anything. Thanks.