One Month Down

I have been waiting one month and one day. I have nothing new to report.

Food

I love to try new foods. I love flavorful spices that delight the palate and appeal to the senses. I most especially love Asian and Caribbean fare. Surprisingly to most however, I am not a big fan of hot spices. I don’t want to have to dilute my meal by drinking tons of water to quell the fires in my mouth and stomach. I prefer sweet and savory together.

This is so contrary to my Q’s taste. First of all she was a very picky eater from the time she tasted her very first morsel of food up until her last meal. I was told that she was very thoughtful upon choosing that last meal. She did not know that it would be her last, however she was simply true to herself, she did not eat just anything,she had her favorites.

Secondly, she enjoyed a fiery dish. She loved hot spicy, food. She would add hot sauce to meals, you know the red kind. I despise the stuff. Q was not big on experimentation with food. She liked simple things and could eat them very regularly and not get bored. I was never a world class cook; however I loved to try a new recipe from time to time. Q was often very hesitant to try my concoctions so I really cooked in vain. She did try her own hand at cooking. She loved to cook Mexican dishes.

I, on the other hand, will try almost anything except dishes that have exotic meats. I am being nice when I use the word exotic. What I really want to say is that anything with weird animals or animals of any kind, for that matter, will not pass my lips. I was a strict vegetarian from late teen years up until my pregnancy. I do now on occasion eat poultry and seafood, but only in dishes that I am used to. For new dishes I prefer to choose the vegetarian version.

Lately I have been training my palate to enjoy Injera, Shiro Wat, Gomen and other dishes. I must admit that I have grown to appreciate the injera, though I was not immediately in love with it. It is a bit sour for my taste. I do appreciate the texture and nutritional value. Teff has protein and the injera is only one Weight Watcher point.

Yesterday I visited one of the more popular Ethiopian restaurants in my area. What I like about Meaza is the atmosphere and the warmth of the staff. The dining area is large and I love the fact that we seat ourselves. I was there one time when entertainment was provided. They had good music and a great singer. I was tempted to show off the Eskesta that my students taught me, but shyness overtook me.

The workers are very hospitable. The owner always comes out (at least when I have been there) to greet the diners and to make sure all are satisfied. There was a mistake on our bill that was quickly rectified. Another worker, I am not sure in which capacity she serves, made sure that the mistake was corrected. My friend said that she had slT'an which means authority. This worker remembered me from the last time and that I was learning Amharic. This impressed the two fine Habesha gentlemen at the next table.

This restaurant also has a shop attached to it. I had previously purchased some spices, dabo (bread) and a cookbook. I was able to make my version of shiro wat and gomen. It actually came out pretty tasty. I also purchased a type of injera that was mixed with wheat flour so it didn’t taste quite as sour.

During my wait I will continue to experiment with foods and cooking. I want my little one to settle in with a sense of familiarity.

Language

I have always loved languages and cultures. I took many years of Spanish from Elementary FLES through Spanish literature in college. I took one year of Italian in high school and a college semester of French. In junior high School I even embarked on a self study course in Swahili.

Now with all of that academic instruction one would think that I had the gift of multilingual gab or that I would have a functional vocabulary in at least one of these languages. Well despite countless hours of conjugated verbs and rolling tongues, I am the master of none of them. I can count to three in French though.

We know the saying, if you don’t use it you lose it. I lost it long ago…Now I can do a great job of faking it as I smile and nod. I do, however, feel most proficient in Spanish, although not at all fluent despite my many years of study. My plan is not to allow all those years of Spanish to go to waste. I have many opportunities to use the language and a review is in order. Spanish is also the language that Q chose to study. She embraced the language and the culture.

Another language that I will have the opportunity to use is Amharic. There is a very large Ethiopian population here. Learning Amharic is the order of the day, especially as I prepare to communicate with my little one and my newly acquired friends and family members. But Amharic is no easy feat. There are over thirty characters and seven forms of each character. It is a very difficult language, though I must admit not impossible to learn. I learned the pattern and I can recognize some of the characters. I had a private tutor for a while but now rely on books, computer software and the kindness of my friends and students. They are so willing to help.

I do not know the age of the little one who is waiting for me, but while I wait I want to prepare for her arrival. This includes the study of her language and her culture. This language study will not go to waste as I will communicate with Amharic speakers for a lifetime.

Expecting...

When I was pregnant with Q I was a bundle of nerves. I would be responsible for a tiny new life. I guess what frightened me the most was the fact that I, a recent college graduate with no employment prospects, would be raising my child alone. I became a single mother by circumstance. This was frightening, but at the same time, it was my motivation. Knowing that this little one would look to me for everything made me stronger. I had to be the rock for my little girl. I relied on God and did what I had to. Now I am not one to pop my own collar, but I provided a good life for my daughter. However, I do not take the credit because I know my Heavenly Father is the one who is responsible for my success. He gave me the strength that I needed then and is sustaining me now.

I had a good pregnancy. I did everything that the good doctors told me to. I even began eating animal protein again. From my late teens up until that point I had been a strict vegetarian. I now know that vegetarian women have very healthy pregnancies. Meat is not a requirement. But I was extremely anemic during my pregnancy and I did not want to take any chances.

I remember when I felt her move for the very first time. Butterfly flutters… It was at that point that I fell in love. The life inside of me was real. She would grow and become my baby. Doctor visits, sonograms, heartbeats and movements... A growing belly and increasing weight... These were signs of progress. Stronger kicks, an elbow to the side, oh and the ever filled bladder. I remember walking to the bathroom, returning to my bedroom, approaching the bed just to turn back around and begin the process over again. It seemed like a never ending water cycle. These were the signs that assured me of my approaching motherhood.

But what about this adoption process? What signs of progress do we see? Of course there are milestones along the way, mini victories… a process one goes through until officially waiting. But how do you know when motherhood is approaching? There are no doctor visits, no sonograms, and no heartbeats growing stronger. When is the due date? No one knows for sure.

Fingerprints!

I had my biometric fingerprints done today! I will blog about the experience later.

Officially Waiting!!!

My dossier is in country!!!
It arrived on February 19, 2009.

So Much Pain

I know what it's like to have chronic pain. I'm not speaking of the pain one experiences from arthritis, fibromyalgia or some other physical malady. I am talking about the pain one feels when a heart is broken in so many pieces, that the damage seems irreparable. The searing pain one feels when a loved one is lost in death; so senseless and avoidable.

I had no preparation. I had no forewarning. I simply trusted that she would be safe and return home. She was supposed to have been kept safe by someone who should have made sure. I do not wish to share more details in such a public forum, however in the future that may change. The story needs to be told.

But what I found out the hard way was that just like those individuals with physical afflictions, who get up every day and work, care for family, and help others despite limitations, I too have been able to carry on despite my extreme pain. I say carry on with purpose. I do not like the term "move on." To me it implies leaving something behind. I will never leave my daughter behind. The memory of her is in my heart and mind. I continue to carry on but not by my strength, but by virtue of the one who strengthens me.

With this strength I can mother another. This little one may come to me with fear and a boat load of grief. But going through it myself may help me to better help her.