This past weekend Kathee and I made our annual trek to Camp Forest Springs in Westboro, Wisconsin. Each year we go with my extended family (17 of us this year) for the Memorial Day Family Camp. It's always a blast to spend time with my family, the neices and nephews are a joy to be with and to spend time with.
Along with those great memories, we had two distinct and neat opportunities. The first was an extended conversation we had with one of the missionary staff at CFS. Don, a retired missionary from Africa, has been on staff at CFS for 10+ years. Actually, when he and his wife came on staff, I helped them move boxes into their house. I have always appreciated his calm demeanor and genuine interest.
As we discussed life, we shared with him about our adoption story. He asked why Africa, why Ethiopia, etc. As we talked, it turned out that they "adopted" an Ethiopian girl many years before. It must have been a sort of long-term foreign exchange student thing. He was very interested in our story, prayed with us, and asked that I keep CFS posted on our journey as the staff prays together twice a week (and as he is the head of prayer time, he wanted to make sure we are being prayed for).
One of the things I most appreciated is that he "understands Africa." Now, keep in mind, I've never been there. So this certainly isn't "old hat" for me, but he understands Africa, the situation, the history, etc. We were also able to discuss a book that I've been reading off and on called "The Fate of Africa." There's just something about Africa. And now I'll trail off.
The next encouragement was that there were two other families there this weekend that had adopted dark-skinned babies. I think one family adopted from Haiti, and I'm not sure where the other family adopted. To be honest, I haven't seen a family with two white parents and an African child. So it was fun watching them, and imagining Kathee and I in that situation. Either way, I'm not making much sense, but thought this weekend was great. And it made me much more excited to get him home and in our family!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
The Offer of a Loan
Kathee received a call yesterday from an organization we applied for a grant. Although we were not given a grant, they offered us a $2,500, interest-free loan to be paid back. Although we are unsure if we will accept the loan, what a blessing to know it is there if we do in fact need it. God continues to provide for each and every need we have in this journey!
Downfall of the Derg
Today we celebrate the downfall of the Derge. Rather than writing in my own words, I am typing this from our Lonely Planet book on Ethiopia and Eritrea, to give you a bit of background to the holiday and why this is such a big deal!
"Red Terror only cemented the stance of those opposing the Derg. Numerous armed liberation movements arose, including those of the Afar, Oromo, Somali, and particularly Tigrayan peoples. For years, with limited weaponry, they fought the military might of the Soviet-backed Derg.
In 1984-1985 another appalling famine followed a drought, in which hundreds of thousands more people died. Failed government resettlement campaigns, communal farms and 'villageisation' programmes aggravated the disaster in many areas, while Mengistu's disinclination to hlep the province of Tigray- the worst affected region and home to the powerful Tigrayan People's Liberation Front- caused thousands more to die.
The various opposition groups eventually united to form the Ethiopian People's Revoluationary Democratic Front, which in 1989 began its historic military campaign towards Addis Ababa.
Doubly confronted by the EPRDF in Ethiopia and the Eritrean People's Liberation Front in Eritrea; with the fall of his allies in Eastern Europe; and with his state in financial ruin as well as his own military authority in doubt, Mengistu's time was up and he fled to the country on 21 May 1991. Seven days later, the EPRDF entered Addis Ababa and the Derg was done.
Mengistu received asylum in Zimbabwe, where he remains to this day.
"Red Terror only cemented the stance of those opposing the Derg. Numerous armed liberation movements arose, including those of the Afar, Oromo, Somali, and particularly Tigrayan peoples. For years, with limited weaponry, they fought the military might of the Soviet-backed Derg.
In 1984-1985 another appalling famine followed a drought, in which hundreds of thousands more people died. Failed government resettlement campaigns, communal farms and 'villageisation' programmes aggravated the disaster in many areas, while Mengistu's disinclination to hlep the province of Tigray- the worst affected region and home to the powerful Tigrayan People's Liberation Front- caused thousands more to die.
The various opposition groups eventually united to form the Ethiopian People's Revoluationary Democratic Front, which in 1989 began its historic military campaign towards Addis Ababa.
Doubly confronted by the EPRDF in Ethiopia and the Eritrean People's Liberation Front in Eritrea; with the fall of his allies in Eastern Europe; and with his state in financial ruin as well as his own military authority in doubt, Mengistu's time was up and he fled to the country on 21 May 1991. Seven days later, the EPRDF entered Addis Ababa and the Derg was done.
Mengistu received asylum in Zimbabwe, where he remains to this day.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
A Sense of Loss
I am going to be blogging today about the profound sense of loss couples adopting go through when they adopt. Now certainly we are not experiencing all of these things, nor do we experience these all the time. One of the greatest things I've seen about our sense of loss, is that these things come up unexpectedly. It's almost like they hit us like a ton of bricks. We'll be going along, something will take place, and it will hit us that we are experiencing loss.
Case in point. One of the things recently that struck us was Mother's Day at church. Keep in mind that no one set out to "rub it in our faces," nor did most even know they were doing it. And we didn't even know it until it was happening. For most, Mother's Day at church is a big thing. We have seen that MANY people attend church with mom on Mother's Day. It, like Christmas and Easter, seem to be a holiday when everyone is willing to attend a worship service. At our church, we give out carnations to mothers as they come in to church. I'm not sure whether Kathee was given one or not as she entered, as I went immediately upstairs upon entering church. During the service Pastor Ed asked people to come forward and pass out Hershey's Kisses to the mothers. As it was Kathee's turn to receive a couple Kisses, the usher skipped our row as there were no mothers or expectant mothers in our row. Immediately we felt a sense of loss.
See, we lose the joy of being an expectant mother or parent. As with most people, as one's belly enlarges with child, others know, and there is a joy with the expectant mother. That is something we have lost. Now, for some reading this, the upshot will be "yeah, but you have people ask you "any knews" each week at church?" or "how are things going?" To that I agree, there are many that are walking the joy with us. However, it doesn't negate the sense of loss we felt during that episode.
Another sense of loss we experience is the loss of being a "normal family." From the second our son is placed in our home, gone is our appearance of being a "normal family." We will forever be a family through adoption. Or a family who chose to add another family member through adoption. Whenever anyone sees us, we will be a family through adoption. The response we'll get is, "yeah, but Isaac, you will be a normal family in our eyes and it doesn't matter what others think." Great, tell us that when we are going through a period of child rebellion with our son. Tell us the first thing you won't be thinking is "is this because he is adopted?" Or, as he gets older and experiences difficulties in adolescence, tell me one won't think, "well, he's adopted and that's what adopted children do." As others see us as a family, or interacting as a family, they will immediately be thinking, "oh, what a nice family through adoption." Again, I'm not pitty-partying this at all. Kathee and I knew that when we decided to adopt, we chose to give up the notion of "normal family." I'm just trying to show through real examples the issue of loss we go through in this process.
A great thing we lose is tying our child to the mooring of his family history. With our biological children we will be able to tell them what it means to be a Terwilleger, to position as a child within the Terwilleger history and the great Smith history. We will be able to pass on to him the honor of coming from a lineage where the Gospel going to the ends of the earth is NOT seen as for "other people," but for them personally. Kathee's family has been serving Christ faithfully through missions and pastoring for generations. I come from a great history and lineage of strong, faithful marriages and hard work. We will lose that opportunity with our son, as although he is our child, in our family, our lineage, ancestry, etc, is profoundly NOT his. Sure, he may be able to relate to it, but it's not his. We lose the pride and joy of being able to say, "__________, this is your history. In our family, you are larger than just who you are as in individual. You are not just one ship on the sea, you are part of a great battalion that moves and goes with you wherever you do. That is another sense of loss we experience.
(In speaking to Kathee about the previous paragraph, I think something she shared as keenly insightful). We will raise our son as "a Terwilleger" with the family history of the great Terwilleger legacy. He will know the stories and adventures of his mother growing up and living overseas (and all those great triumphs and experiences). The issue we lose, is his innate acceptance of our history as his. It will not be "an acceptance just because my last name is Terwilleger and my mother's maiden name is Smith." And from a truly biological point of view, our history is NOT his history. He will have to decide and choose whether these are his or not. That is another aspect of the loss we experience.
We lose the immediate attachment. I know the bond that forms between parents and children isn't an immediate one, but I know of no parent who was rejected by their child for up to a year because they smelled differently than their original caregivers. I know of no child who weeped and wailed and was unconsolable just because one of their parents was literally IN the room. We experience loss because our son will be freaked out because he hears English and not Amharric spoken. We experience loss because the one holding our son is us, and we don't smell/look/sound (and thus feel safe) like the one(s) who have taken care of him for the past months.
Another loss we experience is the loss of not taking part in the birth of the child. We lose the joy of literally being there as our child comes in to the world. We lose the joy of experiencing the pain to bring him in to the world. We miss the joy of doing all the work for the reward of seeing the child we have cared for for the past 9 months.
And this last aspect of loss, is our physical features in our son. We lose out on "oh Kathee, he has your toes," and "oh Isaac, we can hear your laugh in him." "Oh, he's got your smile." "Boy, Kathee, as he grows we see more and more of you in him." We lose the joy of seeing the image of ourselves in our son. He will never have experience the bad Terwilleger eye-sight gene (maybe to his benefit). He will not have the all-out or touches of brilliant red hair that Kathee has. To that we miss out.
These are some of the things in which we experience loss. In no way, shape, or form, do these add up to a pitty party. We are not seeking answers from anyone to "make it all better" or smooth things over. We are not seeking that, nor to we desire that. When we made this choice to adopt, we chose knowing that our lives and our family would be profoundly changed as a result. I think in many ways, my Dad's saying (which is not particularly my dad's) of "face the music" rings true here.
My attempt in writing this, is to clarify about the sense of loss we experience as a result of adopting. My elder brother asked me to explain it, and this is my best attempt. Because He is worthy,
Isaac T
Case in point. One of the things recently that struck us was Mother's Day at church. Keep in mind that no one set out to "rub it in our faces," nor did most even know they were doing it. And we didn't even know it until it was happening. For most, Mother's Day at church is a big thing. We have seen that MANY people attend church with mom on Mother's Day. It, like Christmas and Easter, seem to be a holiday when everyone is willing to attend a worship service. At our church, we give out carnations to mothers as they come in to church. I'm not sure whether Kathee was given one or not as she entered, as I went immediately upstairs upon entering church. During the service Pastor Ed asked people to come forward and pass out Hershey's Kisses to the mothers. As it was Kathee's turn to receive a couple Kisses, the usher skipped our row as there were no mothers or expectant mothers in our row. Immediately we felt a sense of loss.
See, we lose the joy of being an expectant mother or parent. As with most people, as one's belly enlarges with child, others know, and there is a joy with the expectant mother. That is something we have lost. Now, for some reading this, the upshot will be "yeah, but you have people ask you "any knews" each week at church?" or "how are things going?" To that I agree, there are many that are walking the joy with us. However, it doesn't negate the sense of loss we felt during that episode.
Another sense of loss we experience is the loss of being a "normal family." From the second our son is placed in our home, gone is our appearance of being a "normal family." We will forever be a family through adoption. Or a family who chose to add another family member through adoption. Whenever anyone sees us, we will be a family through adoption. The response we'll get is, "yeah, but Isaac, you will be a normal family in our eyes and it doesn't matter what others think." Great, tell us that when we are going through a period of child rebellion with our son. Tell us the first thing you won't be thinking is "is this because he is adopted?" Or, as he gets older and experiences difficulties in adolescence, tell me one won't think, "well, he's adopted and that's what adopted children do." As others see us as a family, or interacting as a family, they will immediately be thinking, "oh, what a nice family through adoption." Again, I'm not pitty-partying this at all. Kathee and I knew that when we decided to adopt, we chose to give up the notion of "normal family." I'm just trying to show through real examples the issue of loss we go through in this process.
A great thing we lose is tying our child to the mooring of his family history. With our biological children we will be able to tell them what it means to be a Terwilleger, to position as a child within the Terwilleger history and the great Smith history. We will be able to pass on to him the honor of coming from a lineage where the Gospel going to the ends of the earth is NOT seen as for "other people," but for them personally. Kathee's family has been serving Christ faithfully through missions and pastoring for generations. I come from a great history and lineage of strong, faithful marriages and hard work. We will lose that opportunity with our son, as although he is our child, in our family, our lineage, ancestry, etc, is profoundly NOT his. Sure, he may be able to relate to it, but it's not his. We lose the pride and joy of being able to say, "__________, this is your history. In our family, you are larger than just who you are as in individual. You are not just one ship on the sea, you are part of a great battalion that moves and goes with you wherever you do. That is another sense of loss we experience.
(In speaking to Kathee about the previous paragraph, I think something she shared as keenly insightful). We will raise our son as "a Terwilleger" with the family history of the great Terwilleger legacy. He will know the stories and adventures of his mother growing up and living overseas (and all those great triumphs and experiences). The issue we lose, is his innate acceptance of our history as his. It will not be "an acceptance just because my last name is Terwilleger and my mother's maiden name is Smith." And from a truly biological point of view, our history is NOT his history. He will have to decide and choose whether these are his or not. That is another aspect of the loss we experience.
We lose the immediate attachment. I know the bond that forms between parents and children isn't an immediate one, but I know of no parent who was rejected by their child for up to a year because they smelled differently than their original caregivers. I know of no child who weeped and wailed and was unconsolable just because one of their parents was literally IN the room. We experience loss because our son will be freaked out because he hears English and not Amharric spoken. We experience loss because the one holding our son is us, and we don't smell/look/sound (and thus feel safe) like the one(s) who have taken care of him for the past months.
Another loss we experience is the loss of not taking part in the birth of the child. We lose the joy of literally being there as our child comes in to the world. We lose the joy of experiencing the pain to bring him in to the world. We miss the joy of doing all the work for the reward of seeing the child we have cared for for the past 9 months.
And this last aspect of loss, is our physical features in our son. We lose out on "oh Kathee, he has your toes," and "oh Isaac, we can hear your laugh in him." "Oh, he's got your smile." "Boy, Kathee, as he grows we see more and more of you in him." We lose the joy of seeing the image of ourselves in our son. He will never have experience the bad Terwilleger eye-sight gene (maybe to his benefit). He will not have the all-out or touches of brilliant red hair that Kathee has. To that we miss out.
These are some of the things in which we experience loss. In no way, shape, or form, do these add up to a pitty party. We are not seeking answers from anyone to "make it all better" or smooth things over. We are not seeking that, nor to we desire that. When we made this choice to adopt, we chose knowing that our lives and our family would be profoundly changed as a result. I think in many ways, my Dad's saying (which is not particularly my dad's) of "face the music" rings true here.
My attempt in writing this, is to clarify about the sense of loss we experience as a result of adopting. My elder brother asked me to explain it, and this is my best attempt. Because He is worthy,
Isaac T
Friday, May 16, 2008
Home With Their New Daughter!
A church family has just returned from China with their newly adopted 14 year-old daughter! Kathee and I got the HUGE honor to go to their home and visit her (if I'm not mistaken, to be her first guests). I'd ask that you keep she and her family in your prayers as she and they make the HUGE transition. And the insanely great thing is that she came to our home last night for our Dinner @ the T's we have each week at our home and stayed for Bible study. At this point, she doesn't speak a lick of English, so thankfully her parents brought a Mandarin-English quote book, so we could communicate that way. It was SO FUN having her over. And the kids that participated last night are all abuzz!
Please keep the family in your prayers! She most certainly is in a state of mourning and loss, as gone are her friends from the institution, everything she knows, all the language issues, etc. But, as the Lord promises, in Him our sadness is turned to joy! Pray for her salvation!
Pray for her new parents and new little sister as they transition, as well.
This is exciting news and a HUGE answer to our prayers over the past months.
Also, Drew (the father) shared a monumental insight with Kathee and I as we talked with them and heard their herroing experience of minute by minute providence of God while in China. He shared that with their new daughter, the loss and mourning is obvious. She has been very quiet, hasn't been up and about much, is struggling to make America-time as her new time and not holding on to China-time. He said, "your little one will go through the same thing, only he won't be able to say words. He'll just cry. He won't be able to tell you he doesn't want to go to church, you'll just pick him up and take him... and he'll cry. He won't be able to tell you he doesn't like how you smell, he'll just cry. And for those of you NOT going through the adoption experience, you may be wondering why in the world someone would say that? It just seems that that's a Debbie Downer comment.
On the contrary, I found that INCREDIBLY helpful. Kathee and I talk about the sense of loss we are already going through, and that he will experience when he joins our familiy. It was a good reminder and a different perspective.
That's it for now. What great news. God be praised!
Please keep the family in your prayers! She most certainly is in a state of mourning and loss, as gone are her friends from the institution, everything she knows, all the language issues, etc. But, as the Lord promises, in Him our sadness is turned to joy! Pray for her salvation!
Pray for her new parents and new little sister as they transition, as well.
This is exciting news and a HUGE answer to our prayers over the past months.
Also, Drew (the father) shared a monumental insight with Kathee and I as we talked with them and heard their herroing experience of minute by minute providence of God while in China. He shared that with their new daughter, the loss and mourning is obvious. She has been very quiet, hasn't been up and about much, is struggling to make America-time as her new time and not holding on to China-time. He said, "your little one will go through the same thing, only he won't be able to say words. He'll just cry. He won't be able to tell you he doesn't want to go to church, you'll just pick him up and take him... and he'll cry. He won't be able to tell you he doesn't like how you smell, he'll just cry. And for those of you NOT going through the adoption experience, you may be wondering why in the world someone would say that? It just seems that that's a Debbie Downer comment.
On the contrary, I found that INCREDIBLY helpful. Kathee and I talk about the sense of loss we are already going through, and that he will experience when he joins our familiy. It was a good reminder and a different perspective.
That's it for now. What great news. God be praised!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Pushed Back Again
Well, I believe we are now looking at June as the "about time" when we will expect to receive our referral. In talking with our adoption coordinator last week, she shared that most families awaiting an infant boy get referrals at about the six month mark.
Although that's another blow to my/our system, in some ways that's an okay thing. I am going to Moldova (the country between Romania and Ukraine) from June 24-July 8. Our concern was that if the referral came in May that we'd by flying to Ethiopia during that time. That would be fine, except I had to buy tickets for the Moldova trip last week.
I guess the thing that is so hard is not knowing what is happening from the time our dossier arrived in Ethiopia to the time we receive the referral. At least before we had a wait-list number (at that time we were at #39). Then it was changed to a duration of time (we were told to expect a referral 3 to 7 months after our dossier is received in Addis). So obviously we started at 3 months, then 4 months, we are now at 5 months, and fully expect to receive our referral at 6 months.
Now, in no way am I complaining, second-guessing AWAA. In no way am I questioning God or His timing. For I know His timing is perfect. And I know that AWAA has been a great agency to work with. My struggle is wondering what exactly is happening. How long does it take to translate the dossier? After translation then what? Does it go and sit in a government office? What is getting approved and when does the search for Baby Terwilleger begin?
Okay, I'm tired and feel like I'm complaining about things I need not complain about. I'll write more later.
Goodnight,
Isaac T
Although that's another blow to my/our system, in some ways that's an okay thing. I am going to Moldova (the country between Romania and Ukraine) from June 24-July 8. Our concern was that if the referral came in May that we'd by flying to Ethiopia during that time. That would be fine, except I had to buy tickets for the Moldova trip last week.
I guess the thing that is so hard is not knowing what is happening from the time our dossier arrived in Ethiopia to the time we receive the referral. At least before we had a wait-list number (at that time we were at #39). Then it was changed to a duration of time (we were told to expect a referral 3 to 7 months after our dossier is received in Addis). So obviously we started at 3 months, then 4 months, we are now at 5 months, and fully expect to receive our referral at 6 months.
Now, in no way am I complaining, second-guessing AWAA. In no way am I questioning God or His timing. For I know His timing is perfect. And I know that AWAA has been a great agency to work with. My struggle is wondering what exactly is happening. How long does it take to translate the dossier? After translation then what? Does it go and sit in a government office? What is getting approved and when does the search for Baby Terwilleger begin?
Okay, I'm tired and feel like I'm complaining about things I need not complain about. I'll write more later.
Goodnight,
Isaac T
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