Introducing.....

Elliot Shimeles Tegene Briola!!!



Yes, that's right, we passed court today! It came as a complete surprise, as we didn't pass yesterday when we had our scheduled court date. But our agency, International Adoption Net, is AWESOME, and the Ethiopian staff worked tirelessly to get the missing paperwork from the Ethiopian government into the right hands, and get our case heard. We are so very thankful for them, and are anxious to thank them in person, which brings us to....

Travel! Our travel plans are not firm, as our embassy date (which determines when you travel) will not be confirmed for several weeks yet, but January 27th is looking really good and is very likely.

Needless to say, we are overwhelmed, thankful, and beyond excited. It is mixed with sadness for his birth mother who, as I've posted before, has made the ultimate sacrifice. We are forever indebted to her, and consider her family, although we've never met. I promise to her that we will love Shimeles beyond measure and give him the best life possible. And that we will never let him forget her. Whoever you are, wherever you are, we love you. And we love our son!

The roller coaster continues.

We did not pass again. I can't decide if I should throw up, cry, or go to bed for a week. Maybe all three, probably in that order. There was a required letter from the Ministry of Women's Affairs (MOWA) that was missing from his paperwork, and no one knows when it will arrive. Our next scheduled court date is December 24th. Damn. I was really really hoping that Christmas would come early this year for Eli.

Tonight is THE night.

Wednesday is finally here. It may be 5:30 in the morning and I haven't slept all night, but it's here. Tonight is our second court date for Eli. Somewhere in Addis Ababa, thousands of miles away, his name is on a file that a judge will open. In a court proceeding that takes about 10 minutes, a judge will decide if Eli is our son. I'm sure that the reason I can't sleep is because I KNOW he's already our son. When I'm asked, I proudly tell people that I have 3 children. Kai, at 5 years old, does the same thing and tells people that he has 2 brothers. I love hearing him say that. In our hearts, we are already a family. It's the waiting for this unknown stranger to put his rubber stamp of approval on our file that is scary and frustrating.

I'm not at all worried that it won't happen eventually, but patience is hard to come by. And I worry. I worry that he may feel lonely. I worry that he may be afraid. I worry that he misses his mother and father, and there is no one to comfort him. Does he have enough to eat? Is he warm enough at night? Does anyone comfort him when he falls and bonks his knee? Does he know that his current situation is NOT his life? Is he sad? Does anyone tell him that he is loved before he goes to bed?

Eli, my son, we are coming for you, and I know it will be soon. I want to tell him to just hang on and know that we are coming. I can't even imagine how he must feel as he watches other families come and take their babies home from the orphanage. Everyone tells me that he is happy and joyous; mischievous and curious; loving and smiley. I hope with all my heart that that is true. I want to tell him that soon -- very soon -- he will come home to us, to his new house, his excited brothers, his own clean, warm bed, warm bubble baths, and snuggles on demand. I want to give him something to look forward to.

Every night, I go and check on my boys while they are sleeping. Kai and I have a standing snuggle date at 10:30pm every night. He rarely wakes up and, if I'm lucky, he will mumble his love for me in his sleep after I've straightened his covers and flipped his pillow over to "the cold side". It's what I live for. Ian is always without covers no matter how many times I've pulled them up over him. He needs to be cool as he sleeps. Yet I still go in, move him into a comfortable position, arrange his stuffed animals neatly next to him, and pull the sheet up to cover the coolness of his sweet, strong little arms. I kiss his perfect little cheek and marvel at how he looks just like my brother.

Every night it is the same. Every night I stroke my boys' hair, kiss their beautiful faces, smell their sleeping breath, and watch their chests go up and down in wonder. Every night before I leave them be, I whisper the same thing in their sleeping ears, hoping they hear it and learn it as fact: "I love you so much. You are my greatest joy, my most amazing work of art. You will change the world one day, like you've already changed mine. Thank you for picking me as your Mommy."

Soon Eli Shimeles, soon.

Random weirdness around my house.

I have no good explanation for these photos. The first 2 are of Cosmo, the mutant hairless cat. He doesn't much care for the very chilly change in weather around here, nor does he like to wear a sweater. What's a hairless cat to do?





And this is the sort of abuse one must endure if you dare to spend time at our house! I'm not sure if Uncle Steven is planning on coming back. It's just much too early in the morning for forced mask-wearing.

The longest 5 days EVER.

Tick tock, tick tock. Today is the 6th, Sunday. Court is on the 9th, Wednesday night. Up until now, I had major distractions. I planned and (I must say) pulled off an extremely successful SURPRISE baby shower for 60 people last night! I was busy with making favors, ordering cupcakes, picking wines. But now I must fill my days until Wednesday night, and then wait several excruciating hours until Leah calls me with court news on Thursday morning. Sigh. Tick tock.

Bad news for Eli

We didn't pass court today, and have been rescheduled for December 10th. Most people are rescheduled for a week or 10 days later, but we got sent to the back of the line. Thankfully, this didn't have anything to do with our particular case, as ours wasn't even heard. The agency in Ethiopia that oversees adoptions, MOWA, is doing some administrative stuff regarding licensing with all the orphanages. So, this pushes our travel into February, assuming we pass on December 10th. Sigh. Poor Eli. Sad us.

Court Date!!!

Ok, I admit it. This mom-to-be is getting a little anxious/nervous/excited for our Monday court date. I've been very "zen" about this whole process, but this court date is definitely one of the BIG milestones. The biggest, actually. If we pass court in Ethiopia on Monday (our Sunday night), I am a new mom once again! So, all my readers, as you go to bed on Sunday night, do us a favor, will you? Picture the judge opening our file, finding all the paperwork there and in order, and all the right people showing up at the right time. And also, please keep Shimeles' birth family -- specifically his birth mother -- in your thoughts as well. I can hardly imagine myself in her place -- relinquishing a beautiful, healthy, wonderful, sweet child, and sending him off to strangers in a land she probably can't even picture in her mind, knowing she may never again know how he is doing or what his life is like. We will never forget that it is SHE who has made the ultimate sacrifice -- a selfless, brave act of love to give her child a better life than her circumstances can provide. And for that, we are eternally grateful.