Fridays in Ethiopia

For both of our trips to Ethiopia it worked out that we arrived in Addis on Saturday evening and departed on Friday evening. The way that the schedule was arranged Friday ended up being our toughest day on both trips. On the second trip, Friday morning was set aside for us to meet with one of LB's birth parents. We are keeping the majority of the details about his birth story private but I can say we feel incredibly lucky to have had that meeting. It was extremely emotional but also heartwarming. We got to ask so many questions and we also took photos. I will treasure those always and am so grateful that we can share it all with LB. I think that afternoon both D and I were overcome with sadness that we were leaving Ethiopia. Of course we were eager to introduce him to our family and friends and ready to start our life together in Ohio but it was difficult to leave. I know that I was at times overwhelmed with guilt for taking him away from his birth country and all that is familiar to him. I am not saying that I think growing up in an institution is the best thing for him and obviously if I thought that then we never would have adopted in the first place. The emotion is a hard one to describe. We really fell in love with Ethiopia and wondered when we would be able to return.

On the first trip we had to say goodbye to LB in the morning and then in the afternoon we toured three government run orphanages in Addis. Talk about a tough day! I have replayed that afternoon in mind several times over the past two months and have wanted to write about it. Each time I sat down to write I felt like everything I wanted to say sounded cliche. Loss for words. Broken. Devastating. Nothing I could put to paper did justice to the experience. I imagine it never will. The best I can do is try and share certain moments with you.

We visited three orphanages. The first was for older boys, the second for boys and girls under seven and the third had older girls along with some infants. When we arrived at the second orphanage Belay (Gladney coordinator) led us into the infant room. Here come those words again. Devastated. Broken. And in this case the smell was overpowering. Belay told us that recently in that room alone seven babies died in one night. Seven. There was a little boy on the floor that was getting ready to try and crawl out of the room. The caregivers were busy with other children so D picked up the boy. The boy just stared into D's eyes and he was clearly so happy just to be held. The look in D's eyes is one I will never forget. The boy's outfit was partially falling off and stained badly. When it was time to leave the room D asked the caregiver where he should put the little boy. She motioned to his crib and when D put him down the boy started to cry. D looked at me like, "what do I do?" No words. I continued to hear him cry as we walked into the hallway. Needless to say we were pretty quiet in the car on the way to the next orphanage. I was not proud of a lot of the thoughts I was having. If I am being honest, I will tell you that part of me wanted to tell Henock that we had enough and I wanted to go back to our comfortable guest house. I thought there was only so much my heart could take.

We arrived at the last orphanage and were immediately swarmed by young girls who wanted to hold hands and hug us. As we finished our tour of the facility we were walking up the hill back to the cars and one of the girls that was holding my hand looked up at me and as she pointed to herself she asked, "daughter?" Some of the other girls started laughing at her but her face remained serious and hopeful. No words. I think of her often. I think of the baby I helped feed in that infant room. I think of a 10 year old boy at the first orphanage we visited. I'm not sure what it all means for me yet. I hesitate to say a lot of this because I don't want to paint a portrait of Ethiopia that is pure devastation. D and I actually thought the opposite. We saw hope, growth and kindness on a daily basis. But there is also a need for help. Our hearts remain there in so many ways.