Last time we discussed this topic, I told you that I thought I would gain clarity about adoption on my trip to Ethiopia and I promised an update when I returned. Since then many people have asked me what we're going to do about adopting, and my response falls somewhere in between an apologetic smile and an awkward sand kick - kinda like what it's like for people who are unsuccessfully trying to conceive, to answer "are you pregnant yet?".
So the long and short of it is I am not pregnant. Not really. Unless of course it were possible for me to get pregnant without Dirt's help. So if I am pregnant, Wendy is the father.
Just to recap, last fall we began the process of adopting. At that point, we agreed on a 4 year old boy from Ethiopia. But everything about the process was wrong, and finally Dirt put the brakes on due to economic concerns.
While I was in Africa I met a boy that absolutely stole my heart. I literally don't know how I'm even here typing this because I have no heart, B is probably off somewhere in Ethiopia playing soccer with it. And, he wasn't four - our magical adoption age. In fact I met lots and lots of four year old boys and never once thought about any of them as my son. Never not once.
I need to be clear here, I didn't go to Ethiopia to pick out a child. That was never my intention, and in fact, that's not how the adoption process generally works (the agency matches you with a child - you don't get to pick).
However, when you meet an orphan that you instantly connect with, youe heart can make it's own plans.
I probably would've been fine if stinkin' Wendy didn't whisper in my ear, "you have to adopt him". (This is how she impregnated me.) Then I began looking at him with mother eyes. Lets face it, I met close to 900 orphans, I was immune to feeling like I needed to adopt every beautiful face I met. In fact, I didn't think of it at all, until I met B. I met him the day before we left Ethiopia at an orphanage that I didn't want to go to. I almost made it out of Africa free and clear.
He said he was nine, but I was skeptical. I thought maybe 10-11. In Ethiopia, birthdays aren't "a thing" - no one really knows how old these kids are. However, I did know one thing, an 11 is too old for our family because it would mess with the birth order. Avery needed to remain the oldest; that was my rule.
BUT, then there was the shyly offered kiss on the cheek that made rules about who I can and can't love seem silly. We were taking a photo together and as the camera snapped, he quickly turned and plopped a kiss right on my cheek. A bold move by him, but I was done. In my head I began thinking things like, "B Moore - yeah that goes".
When I returned home I didn't broach the topic of adoption with Dirt right away, I figured that I needed to wait for my emotions to settled down so I could think logically about this. I did share my special connection with a boy I plan to sponsor (Bereket) and my beloved "B" with Dirt and the kids, as special children that I connected with who I hoped to remain in touch with. Their pictures went up on the fridge and they're names were mentioned at prayer times.
..this post is getting too long...story to be continued...