A Week in Addis Ababa

So my wife and I just returned from about a week in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. We went there to pick up our son, whom we adopted. After about 18 months of filling out paperwork, getting documents notarized, having my fingerprints recorded, and writing large checks, the process culminated in the smiling and drooling face of a sweet four-month old baby boy.

Our adoption agency, All God's Children International, was nothing but great through the entire process: responsive to all of our questions and anxieties, helpful with the required paperwork, and encouraging when things seemed to move slowly. And the orphanage in Addis Ababa, Hannah's Hope, was truly heart-changing. The workers there amazed me with their capacity to love those children like their own flesh and blood, knowing they would be going away to new families. And the children themselves astounded me with their joy.

In the summer of 2008, my wife and I discovered that we each, independently, had been thinking about adopting. When we then began to explore the possibilities, we reached an easy conclusion that Ethiopia was where our next child should come from. As she told someone earlier today, there really was never any question about that. However...

We originally began talking with a different adoption agency. We were told, though, that Ethiopia does not accept parents who take antidepressant medications. Thus, because of my prescription, we were ineligible. Disappointed, we spoke with several other adoption agencies, only to be told the same thing. We had pretty well given up on adopting from Ethiopia when we contacted AGCI. We never expressed interest in any specific country, but only filled out an online pre-application. When one of the workers there responded to our inquiry, she said, "Well, it looks like Ethiopia, or (I can't remember now what the other option was) would be the best bets for your family." Incredulous, we asked, "Are you sure? You know I take an antidepressant, right?" In any case, to make a long story less long, all those other agencies have it wrong, as proven by the little boy asleep upstairs.

So finally, last week, we boarded a plane in Washington, DC and 17 hours later, emerged in the fragrant sunshine of Addis Ababa. The following day, along with five other couples, we went to Hannah's Hope orphanage to meet our new child. He has been very content, happy to play or sleep, and only really fusses when he's hungry--a problem that is easily solved with a bottle of formula.

There was one aspect of the journey we didn't expect, though: being stuck in a foreign hotel room for hours on end with nothing to do but contemplate the tectonic shift in our family that we'd just incurred was a perfect recipe for panic attacks and homesickness. Our agency's online community of adoptive parents were very good at providing practical advice on what to pack and details regarding the administrative process. They shared our anticipatory joy of being on our way to Ethiopia. But no one ever said, "There will come a moment when you wonder if you've spent countless hours and thousands of dollars on a huge mistake. You will question why you you wanted to be kept up at night feeding a baby and changing diapers. You will worry about the effect of a new sibling on your other children." So to anyone who reads this who is in the process of adopting, I will tell you these things. But I will also tell you that you are normal to feel this way. I know this to be true, because all of the other families in our little group with whom we discussed these feelings had similar experiences.

Please don't misunderstand. I have absolutely no regrets about our decision to adopt our son. I only wish someone had prepared us for the overwhelming fear that fell on us as we contemplated the enormity of what was happening. While our hearts were filled with anxiety at times, our minds never lost hold of the knowledge that God had led us to this place, and he had faithfully provided everything we needed to see our adoption come to fruition.

Of course, I think much of our anxiety could have been diminished had we spent more time with the other families, rather than cooped up in the hotel room. The problem is that the hotel where we stayed had no common area where we could gather and talk. But I think we all felt like we would have benefited from that. So, again, to anyone preparing to travel to get your adopted child, a word of advice: take the lead in finding somewhere to gather regularly with other adopting families. Even if it is just your own hotel room, make the effort to spend time together.

In any case, we're glad to be home again. Our newest family member is sleeping soundly, although after a nine hour time change for him, I don't know for how long...