The Very Best
Today marks my last phone call to Ethiopia. I was able to chat with my husband for a little while tonight as Baby T had decided that sleep was a good thing. His Dad also cut way back on what he was feeding him and as a result, found that he wasn't leaving a trail of vomit across Ethiopia. Good news all around. His Dad also told me that they've obviously bonded across their fluid filled nights. Apparently, someone else tried to take Baby T out of his high chair and he cried until Dad came and carried him out himself! A little vomit is a small price to pay for that kind of attachment, I think. I spoke to the Boy briefly and he informed me that he has some new headwear--a Rasta hat. That should make an interesting statement around town, I'd say. And H has become more talkative and calls "Dad" now when she needs something. But the story doesn't end here...the bulk of their busy day was spent with H and Baby T's family at the house she grew up in with her mother. I know only a few details from their visit and, I expect, I may never understand the intensity of such a meeting. I do know that it affected my husband in a profound way and I am forever grateful to him for doing something which must have been difficult to do. They were able to take pictures of the kids' birth grandparents and aunt and godmother, who was a dear friend to her birth mother before she died. The aunt presented H with a necklace and a photo album made for her of her birth family and pictures of her when she was a little girl. Our agency's social worker came and translated as well as provided suggestions for questions to ask the birth family. She suggested asking what their birth mother wanted for them. And then came the reply, I'm not even sure who answered, but whoever spoke said, "She always wanted them to have the very best." Even now, typing her words, leaves me dizzy. They shared a meal together in the small 10 by 10 space our children once called home. Then, before they prepared to leave, the family spoke to the children giving their blessing on their new family and encouraging them to be good, work hard and do well in America. I don't think there was a dry eye in that small shack.
Their birth mother will get her wish, of that I am sure. That this family loved these two children so much that they granted them a chance to grow, to thrive, to learn--perhaps someday to return, is a living testament that they held up their end of the deal. Now it is up to us to hold up ours. May God grant us the wisdom and the courage to do so.