>Gratuitous, Because I Can

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>Who needs toes?

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>Birthmother’s Day 2011

>As I wrote in my last post, Birthmother’s Day was created in 1990 by a group of Seattle-area birthmoms who wished to acknowledge the incredible effects of birthmotherhood on their lives, to honor themselves and the choices they made. It is celebrated the Saturday before Mother’s Day, to recognize that birthmothers are first mothers. Today, it has grown to be a time to honor birthmothers by all those who have been affected by adoption.

Anna and her birthmother, sweet A.

I had the privilege of meeting Anna’s birthmother during my time in Ethiopia. Last year, for Birthmother’s Day, Anna was just starting to understand the idea that she grew inside the belly of someone other than me. Since that time, her understanding of her birthmother had grown tremendously. She understands that she has a birthmother in Ethiopia, that her birthmother gave birth to her, and that she lived with her birthmother “while she was a baby.” She knows her birthmother is brown, and they look similar. She knows Abigail, Gaga, and I all met her birthmother when we went to “Eepeeohpeeah” to meet her. She knows that I am Abigail and JohnAndrew’s birthmother, but I am her adoptive mother. 


Mostly, though, she knows that her birthmother loves her. Loves her as much as I love her. And that I love her birthmother. And that she can love her birthmother and me at the same time. She knows I think about her birthmother every day, and we pray for her often. And one day, we will go back to Ethiopia and she will get to see her birthmother and give her hugs and kisses. She is very proud to be Ethiopian, proud to be brown, and proud that she has a birthmother that loves her. 


I get a lot of this parenting stuff wrong- heck, I get a lot of this life stuff wrong, but once in a while, I think I get it right. This is one of those times.


Today, on Birthmother’s Day, we make a special, public declaration of our love and admiration for our children’s birthmother’s. We honor the difficult choices they made that resulted in their children being placed into our homes and families. We take time to pause and gratefully acknowledge these first mothers for the amazing role they have and will play in our children’s lives.


But the true sign of our respect for these ladies does not come in the grandness of our tributes today. It comes in the daily, quiet ways that we acknowledge them in our children’s lives. It comes through sharing our child’s story with them over and over, allowing them to own it, and encouraging them to love these women. It comes in bravely acknowledging that their birthmother experienced pain and loss in some form. It comes by allowing these birthmothers, these first mothers, to be just that- first. In our home, respecting Anna’s birth mother comes through photos, stories, and prayers. Daily. As often as Anna wants. And even sometimes, when she doesn’t want. So that she will learn her story, remember her story, and know that her story not only makes her unique, but allows her to be strong. Because her birthmother was a strong enough woman to make the most difficult choice of her life- to deny her own wants, her own desires, her own will, and think only of her child.


May I also learn that lesson… to die to my will, and serve my children in love. Completely. 

>Birthmother’s Day & World AIDS Orphans Day

>Tomorrow is Birthmother’s Day. And World AIDS Orphans Day. While these two events are not explicitly linked in our family, for many, many families, they are.

Birthmother’s Day was created in 1990 by a group of Seattle-area birthmoms who wished to acknowledge the incredible effects of birthmotherhood on their lives, to honor themselves and the choices they made. It is celebrated the Saturday before Mother’s Day, to recognize that birthmothers are first mothers. Today, it has grown to be a time to honor birthmothers by all those who have been affected by adoption.

World AIDS Orphans Day was founded in 2002 by the Francois-Xavier Bagnoud Center for Health and Human Rights (FXB). It is recognized on May 7 each year, in an effort to draw attention to and advocate for the more than 15+ million children orphaned by AIDS (estimates are that the number reached 25 million in 2010, with millions more unaccounted for in India, Russia, and China). The majority of these children reside in Sub-Saharan Africa, where access to medications preventing maternal-fetal transmission of HIV are minimal, and where ARV therapy- especially for children- is hard to access.

There is no denying the fact that HIV/AIDS has contributed immensely, and will continue to contribute to the growing number of orphans worldwide. Sadly, children orphaned by HIV/AIDS, even if uninfected, often face stigmas within their communities that prevent them from finding loving, permanent homes. And children who are infected, in addition to stigmas within their community and country, are often more difficult to place into international adoptive families, due to stigmas in receiving nations.

I firmly believe that the best way to prevent children becoming orphans is by keeping birthfamilies intact. For many in Sub-Saharan Africa and around the world, this would be possible with access to ARV therapy  for mothers and children, and through support for those living with HIV/AIDS.

I encourage you to become involved in the fight for access to care for mothers and children. Do something to honor the birthmothers who have lost their lives to HIV/AIDS. For each person, this act will be different, but here are some ideas:

• Become educated about HIV/AIDS. Know the facts. Don’t contribute to the stigma of HIV.
• Once you know the fact, share the facts with others. The only way to fight stigma and misinformation is through truth.
• Join the movement to increase access to HIV/AIDS care for mothers and children. Help prevent the number of HIV/AIDS orphans from growing. Go to the FXB website and find an event, donate, petition world leaders, share your ideas, and get involved.
• Support family preservation efforts that provide access to health care, including HIV/AIDS prevention and treatment care.
• Sponsor an HIV+ child- in Ethiopia, you can do that through AHOPE
• Consider adopting an HIV+ child. Learn more about that at Project Hopeful or From HIV to Home.
• Share what you are doing. Here. On your blog. On Facebook or Twitter. In an email. With friends. At church. At your child’s school. Tell people about the difference you can make in the fight against HIV/AIDS, and the battle to keep families intact.

>We have a roller-overer!

>http://www.youtube.com/get_player

>Family Preservation in Uganda

>A friend shared this great article with me, and I hope you all take a few moments to read it… really, it won’t take long, and is worth the time. It was written by a family on the ground in Uganda and is very insightful.

This sums up what I hope to see happening in terms of family strengthening/preservation in Ethiopia.

>Family Preservation in Ethiopia

>Family Preservation (FP) is complicated. Not because the goal is unclear or difficult to understand, but rather because the barriers to FP are often unclear and difficult to understand. Just like any decision we make, the factors that influence relinquishment/abandonment are often deeper than what can be understood by outsiders, especially by affluent Westerners. The cultural and religious norms/mores, the values of society, the political and financial situation of the country, and the availability of services are just a few of the external forces that drive decision-making. Many, many other factors come into play.

I want you, for a moment, to try to imagine a situation where you, as a parent, would feel desperate enough to consider abandoning or relinquishing your child. Personally, I can conceive of situations where I would consider it, but I cannot, in my wildest imagination, envision a situation where I would actually go through with it. And yet, we are led to believe that this act is “normal” or at least “predominant” in Ethiopia. (Keep in mind that up to 90% of orphans in Ethiopia have living birth parents.)

I firmly believe FP efforts start with access to basic health care. The plain truth is we cannot preserve families if the parents are dead, or in the end-stages of illness. Access to health care is crucial to maintaining families. The World Health Organization states that over 1,000 women die every day in developing nations due to complications of pregnancy and childbirth… many of which are preventable or treatable. 8.1 million children under the age of 5 die each year from illnesses that can be treated or prevented with access to simple, affordable medications.

On the “priority list” of medications that the WHO identified to reduce maternal, newborn, and childhood morbidity and mortality, a few common, simple, take-for-granted medications stand out: Oxygen. Normal Saline. Morphine. Amoxicillin. Vitamins A and K. These medications cost pennies. We hand them out like candy in the US. And they can literally save lives in developing nations. Add to that the fact that 1.8 million of the 2.1million children living with HIV are in sub-Saharan Africa (based on numbers from 2008), and the profound effect of ARV (anti-retroviral therapy) becomes evident. Most of these children are infected during childbirth. One third of HIV+ children will die before they reach 1 year of age. Another 50% will die before they are 2 years old.. ARVs save lives of children and parents. Basic health care is just a small part of the solution, but I believe it is a pivotal component.

Think for a moment what it would be like if each family that adopted from Ethiopia were to invest the same amount of money that they used for their adoption process into FP efforts in Ethiopia. Currently, the complete cost of an Ethiopian adoption, from initial application to the flight home on the second trip is probably about $25,000-35,000. Let’s just say $30,000 per family. In 2010, there were more than 2500 children adopted from Ethiopia to US homes. FP donations would be about $7,500,000/year from the US alone . Yes, 7.5 MILLION dollars in family preservation funding… if we simply put our money where it’s most needed.

Below is a list of organizations working towards family strengthening/FP, domestic foster/adoption, and non-IA services to vulnerable children in Ethiopia. I cannot personally endorse each agency, but most of this list was provided by someone who personally knows many of the founders of these organizations, or has worked with them in a professional capacity. Please, fully investigate any of these organizations and do not just take my word that they are doing good in Ethiopia. If you know of an organization that you would like added to this list, please let me know! If you can provide a reference for an organization and are willing to do so, please let me know that as well!

Yezelelim Minch
Retrak
Foresaken Children
Compassionate Family International  (note: website not current)
Beza Entoto Outreach
Hope for Children in Ethiopia/WSG
Family Health International (part of the foster care pilot program in Addis Ababa!)
Pact
Kidmia
A Glimmer of Hope
Hope in Ethiopia: Zeway

A final thought: many, many people promote adoption as a Biblical mandate. In fact, we are to look after orphans and widows. But orphan care is not simply adoption… partially because many children who are orphans are simply not adoptable, and they need care too, perhaps moreso than those who are adoptable.  If you are engaged in an adoption because you believe the Bible instructs us to do this and/or you have been “called” to adopt, please, please keep in mind that this specific area of orphan care is just one of the many ways we care for orphans. But it does not “complete” or “fulfill” this mandate. It’s not “oh, I adopted a kid, so my work for orphans is done.” Adoption is just a small part of orphan care ministry.

>Anna starts with "A"

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Almost 4 year old + chaos of packing up house + Sharpie + too quiet in her room=

But see how well she made an “A”? And I think that other thing on the right is a “N”… maybe?

So much for not needing to re-paint the girls’ room.

>Seven Quick Takes Friday (2)

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1. My neighbor has the ugliest vehicle. It’s not an old clunker that’s rusted or painted funny. No, it’s a vehicle he went out and purchased new. Every time I look out the front window and see it (he kindly leaves it parked right at the end of my front sidewalk) I shudder. So ugly. 3 guesses what car it is! (Hint: it looks like a castrated Chevy Avalanche.) (Yes, I did just use the word castrated.) (John laughed at me when I made that comparison.)

2. I am Irish. On St. Patrick’s Day, I wore green, but that was about the only Irish thing I did. In fact, 2 of my children didn’t wear great because I wasn’t together enough to make sure they had something green to wear. Yet another example of my (many) failings as a mom.

3. We made it to Philly on Wednesday to our USCIS appointment. The last time I tried to do that, I was in a major accident. Equally exciting news: Anna’s COC should be in the mail shortly! Despite my concerns that I would have to replace the (missing) green card and all that jazz, it all worked out and I am now stalking the mailbox. Need the COC to get her SSN and file our taxes:)

4. In other accident related news, I am supposed to get my new vehicle tomorrow. Kia Sedona minivan. We test drove all the models out there, and the Honda Odyssey is my favorite, but the Kia was much less expensive, so we are going with that for now. If and when I am ready to pimp out my minivan, we will get the Honda O. They are nice:)

5. My little man turned 5 months old yesterday! The time is seriously flying. He is getting so big (which, I know, I say all the time.) He now laughs (but not like this baby) and he can “tripod” for minutes at a time. We are going to try rice cereal again; last time we tried it, he was excited to have it in his mouth, but didn’t really “get” the swallowing thing:)

6. Confession: I don’t love cloth diapering. I wanted to love it, but I don’t. I mean, I will still do it, because I do believe all my reasons for doing it are good. I just don’t love it. And if I can’t find a diaper service in Jackson when we move, we will probably switch to disposables or cloth with disposable inserts.

7. After the great house-hunting adventures of the past few months, I think we are going to end up renting. There are many, many reasons to do this: financially, it makes more sense; it lets us get to know the area better until we decide where exactly we want to live; it gives us time to figure out what the market is doing in Jackson; we are not locked into a house when we are not sure how  long our tenure in Jackson will be; we don’t have to worry about a downpayment, and if it takes longer to get our current house on the market or sold, it won’t be a big deal. Plus, when we do go house-hunting again, we can take our time and wait for something we really love to come onto the market. Good. A bit disappointing. But mainly good.

Hey, do your own 7 Quick Takes! Then link up over at ConversionDiary!

>Same story, different circumstances.

>I was 19 years old and unmarried when I became pregnant. For a moment, I wished I could make this whole situation go away, but there were no abortion services available to me; besides, while a baby was the last thing I wanted, I loved it already. When my boyfriend found out I was pregnant, he thought that a baby would “ruin his chances,” so he split. My family was shocked when I told them, and they disowned me, vowing to never speak to me or allow me to speak to my siblings again. 


I was working at a small shop- not making a fortune, but it paid the bills; when it became obvious that I was pregnant, I was fired. I could not find another job because no one wanted to hire the single, pregnant girl, so I took odd jobs as I could. I cleaned houses, bathrooms, and shops for pennies, just to earn enough money to feed myself; I depended on the generosity of others to house me. I did not have transportation, so I could not get away from my town, but within the town, my reputation as an unwed mother preceded me. 


I thought it would be easier once I gave birth; once I was no longer pregnant, perhaps more people would hire me. But it wasn’t any easier. I had no one to watch the baby since my family would have nothing to do with her or me, so I carried her with me while I constantly looked for work. I clung to the few cents I made, stretching them as far as possible, trying to make sure I could feed myself and make enough milk for the baby.


For a year I did this. For a year I watched my lean body grow leaner. For a year I watched my baby grow taller, but not more plump. She was beautiful and amazing and I loved her with every ounce of my being, but I knew she deserved better than sleeping in shacks or on the rare kitchen floor of a generous people who would pay me 2 cents to clean their house. And on the first anniversary of her birth, I looked at my daughter and wept.


What could I do? What could I give her? How long could we go on like this? I could barely feed myself… what would I do when I needed to find food for her as well? If only there was a way for someone else to care for her long enough for me to get back on my feet! It was then that I decided I must place her with another family who could provide for her. I knew this would mean I would never see her again, and it broke my heart. But my love for her- my desire for her to have a life, a future, was greater than my desire to keep her with me. I made the arrangements, and when she was 13 months old, I took her to the appropriate place, hugged and kissed her goodbye, and walked away.


Once my baby was out of my care and my life, some things got better. Without the blatant mark of my sins strapped to my back, it became easier to find work. I got a permanent job, and found a place to live. My lifestyle was very modest, but at least I had dinner and a bed every night. Eventually, my uncle and aunt began speaking with me again. With their help, I was able to get a better job. I hope that soon my parents and siblings will welcome me back.


But every night I dream of the same face. The innocent face of my daughter. I remember the first time I held her, still covered in the blood and mess of birth. The first time she smiled at me, her mouth wide open and her eyes sparkling. The sound of her laugh, the way she said “Momma.” My chest aches in the place where she used to lay while we slept, cuddled together. My cheek tingles where she would reach up and cradle my face while she nursed. I swallow back bile every morning when I wake up and wonder where she is and what she is doing. I hope she is happy. I hope she is loved. And I hope, one day, she will know that I did this… I suffered… for her. In the season of Lent, the sacrifice of Christ for the soul of each person is so much more real as I weep over the sacrifice of my happiness for my daughter’s life.

Wait, wait, wait!

“Grace, that was not what happened,” you say. And you are right. So let me tell you want did happen.

I was 19 years old and unmarried when I became pregnant. When I burst into tears at the doctor’s office upon the confirmation of my suspicions, the nurse briefly asked if I wanted to make arrangements to “get it taken care of” at their sister office. When I realized she meant an abortion, I was appalled; I knew I could never kill the child that was growing inside me. When I told my boyfriend, he was freaked out, but decided to “do the right thing.” We were married in a small civil ceremony a few weeks later, attended by our parents, siblings, and extended family. I didn’t have to tell them I was pregnant for them to guess, but they supported me and when I officially announced I were expecting a baby, they were nothing but excited and loving.


I was working a job in retail at the time; it wasn’t a great salary, but it paid the bills and gave me health insurance, retirement, and other benefits. When my manager found out I was expecting, he provided me with information about my sick time, paid time off, and FMLA. Together we came up with a plan to accommodate my need to be home with the baby and return to work… even a plan to continue pumping when I returned.


Though our income was modest and we were becoming parents far sooner than ever expected, my husband and I managed. We had the support of our parents for housing, and later we worked with a non-profit that provided us with housing for a small “rent” payment that was then placed into a savings account for us. After the baby came, I was able to work part time and received grants and scholarships from the government to go to college. When Abigail was a year old, we celebrated the anniversary of her birth with a party attended by many friends and family.


When my husband split 2 weeks later, I discovered even more resources to allow me to work and go to school. Abigail received Medicaid benefits and received all of her preventative care and immunizations for free. I received food stamps to cover all of our grocery needs. I was also able to receive a day care subsidy so that I could cut back my hours significantly enough to go to nursing school full-time. I found more government grants and private grants/scholarships to offset my college tuition and supplies, and received federal subsidized loans to assist with other costs. 


It was difficult going to school 40+ hours a week and working another 20 hours a week, but with the services available to me, both from the government and private organizations, and with the support of my family, I was able to finish nursing school and get a good job. The first full year of employment, my income taxes re-paid the government for all of the food stamp benefits I had received. The taxes from subsequent years have added up to repay the value of the day care subsidy and Medicaid benefits. Knowing that I was able to give back to society, not just through my income taxes, but through the job I did each day helping people… that felt great. And I loved that each day I was setting an example for my daughter of how to be a successful and independent woman.


The first story is not my story, but it is the story* of how one of my daughters came into this family. If the government or NGOs had been able to provide Anna’s birthmother with just a fraction of the services I received, I feel confident that Anna would never have been relinquished. When I had the honor of meeting this brave woman who was so similar to myself, I was heartbroken. She desperately wished to continue parenting Anna, who she loved with all her heart, but because of a lack of services for the women and children of Ethiopia, it was not an option.

The first step in orphan care is preventing children from becoming orphans. If birth parents and extended families had resources to continue parenting children, many (up to 90%) of them would not be relinquished or abandoned. This is why I support MOWCYA (MOWA) in their decision to focus most of their resources on the 99.99% of vulnerable children in Ethiopia who will never be internationally adopted. These children need help, but international adoption is not the answer. Solving the humanitarian crisis in Ethiopia will solve the orphan crisis.

I am working on a list of NGOs that are focusing on family preservation efforts in Ethiopia. If you know of a reputable organization and would like them to be listed, please contact me (comments or email.)

*Some artistic license taken to protect Anna’s story. But believe me, this is the story of many, many children in orphanages and care centers in Ethiopia.