G'nite Jim Bob...

Please, No more…………………

2009-05-09T11:09:00.000-07:00

A LOT has happened and I have not been able to fill you in.
Since the match was made, it has been non top preparation from morning till night. There’s been so much to arrange, prepare, organize, buy, settle and do just about everything else possibly imaginable.
There’s been a mad rush to prepare and obtain pieces of paperwork for Ethiopia. We need some kind of letter from the British Embassy there, and need a letter from here in order to get that. However this is all new and much of it is trial and error and it is plain crazy.
I’m also trying to research induced lactation. Yes it may sound really far out to some of you, to want to breast feed TWO infants, but I would like to and ‘need’ to. So, for those of you interested, basically I need to start pumping on both sides (using an electric breast pump) every two hours for the first two weeks. Hopefully I am going to supplement this by using Domperidone (or Motillium) and see if that makes any difference, as often it doesn’t for some women.

Then there’s the whole visa palava. Initially, we being naïve, thought we would get the twins into the UAE on a simple visit visa and then apply for a more permanent one afterwards. Hmmmmmphhh….doesn’t work like that. Apparently, we need their passport copies and birth certs and take them to immigration to apply for an entry permit visa. But…we cant get those documents until we are in ET, have (insha’Allah) passed court, and obtained their documents. So, it seems I may well have to stay there with them, while hubby organizes this back in the UAE. Now, I really don’t see myself as a woos, (unless there’s a wasp in my room) but I don’t relish the idea of staying in ET on my own. While I know it’s supposed to be safer than most people assume, I know Africa. It is beautiful without a doubt and the people are amazing characters; open, generous and welcoming beyond the call of duty. But I would still be alone there, depending on drivers and daylight for my independence and sanity, AND with two babies and a toddler,
Well, if that is meant to be then I will just have to grit my teeth, grow up, pull my socks up and march head on. What if’s and maybes are pretty evil, and speculation does little to give the heart peace of mind. Sometimes you’ve just gotta go with it.

Also my brother came to visit with his new wife. I thought we wouldn’t get to meet, and it was a heartbreaking thought, but it worked out that we were able to spend a few days together and it was a relief for my aching heart. God is merciful to me, and gave my restless soul some respite and relief from missing my family and homesickness. I enjoyed my time with both of them, and felt so happy to have a sister in law who I can think of as my sister.

Hubbies’ work has been a trial and a half. We were not sure when to let them know or ask for the time off, and until recently there was no point telling them as we ourselves had no idea of time frames. It is such an unpredictable business that you can never be sure of anything until the child or children are actually in your hands.
Anyway, we told them, and explained that it was a two trip process. One trip to identify, sign the adoption contract and apply for a court date. This lasts about a week.
The second trip is then about a 6 weeks later to attend court, obtain passports and birth certificates for the children and sort out visas. This trip lasts about 4-5 weeks. Believe you and me, none of this seems like an easy prospect and if we could do it another way that was much shorter then we would.
Well, our company did not seem to like the sound of this. And I agree, it is a BIG ask. You can’t just leave work for 6 weeks. Only thing is, quite simply, it is a requirement of the process and there is absolutely no way around it. And on a plea of compassion for our circumstances we asked for the time off. Actually hubby said he would try and take as little time off as possible and try and ask for the court date to be bought as forward as possible so as not to miss too much work, he is also prepared to take the time off unpaid, and use as much of his holiday as possible, and arrange for people to cover his responsibilities for the duration he is away.

Once a match is made you have to go asap and identify the child/children. So, we asked on the Sunday for leave and were told we would hear from them by the latest, on Tuesday. By the end of the week we hadn’t heard but were nervously waiting, running around like crazy shopping for bouncers, clothes bedding, aid for the orphanages, and putting together our cots. A few days later we sent an email asking for progress. By the following Thursday we still hadn’t heard and hubby then made a phone call. We were then informed we had 3 weeks for the whole thing….for the whole six-ish weeks it would take to do this. I have seldom seen hubby so down. He seemed deflated and empty the whole evening. Initially I did too. I think my main gripe was that I think it could have been handled better. We have been desperate for an answer, for something, a word, anything. And we needed this answer last week.
I knew 3 weeks wasn’t enough. But then I talked to him about the fact that NO ONE will see it through our eyes. Nobody was in our shoes and wouldn’t understand the urgency and importance of two orphans in a struggling orphanage in a developing country half way around the world. This really is our trial alone. Of course I want to get the twins out of there asap. Day by day, the thought of them being there ( even being well looked after) was weighing very heavily upon my heart. But nothing, absolutely nothing moves until God wills, and if and when it does, that is the correct time.
We also agreed that at least we did get half of what we wanted. Like they said, by UAE law, they were not obliged to give us anything, and used their own discretion to give us 3 weeks. Fair enough, good on them for doing even that much. We would have to simply work around it.
Besides, God is the one who judges and who decides what happens and when. Not any of us and certainly not ‘The Firm’ 

So, with our ticket booked for Thursday 8.35 am, we prepared manically. We tried to raise as much money possible, and to those who donated, your rewards are with Allah, insha’Allah, and that is nothing to understate.

Packing and running around town, cleaning our house and planning took us until 4am on Wednesday.
Each hour after 9pm dragged and took every ounce of strength to clean, organize, and pack each of our four large cases so that it weighed in on 20 kg. There were many moments when we each felt as though we would throw up at any second. The fatigue and exhaustion of the past couple of months had suddenly accumulated on our shoulders, and it was to be a long long evening.
We went to bed for half an hour and got up again at 4.30 in order to drag ourselves into a taxi at 5am to head for Dubai airport.
We leave our home (3 cats and neighbours) in Gods care and hope to return to them safely and find them in good circumstances.
May Allah bless us with good works and deeds for His sake alone.

A Match!!!

2009-02-27T09:56:00.001-08:00

The match has been confirmed!

As soon as our dossier arrived in ET, our contact had mentioned a pair of twins. I, being me, did not give it serious attention as I thought it just couldn’t be – it was too early, it wasn’t for us, it wouldn’t work, it wasn’t real, etc etc.
Well guess what? It was, and it is!!
It was confirmed four days ago on the 23rd, and today we received the first pics of them. They are a picture of pure innocene!
They have no idea their picture is being taken and are doing what 3 months do….look gaumlessly sweet.
BTW – did I tell you they are twins of months, of each gender.
They look sweet, adorable and above all they seem to be in good health. They have bright eyes, clear skin, and chubby cheeks. Masha’Allah.

So, I am making list upon list; we are hoping to travel asap.

We bought a lot of clothes for them today. It was a surreal feeling.

I’m not sure how to feel, I keep wondering if they will like me….does that sound at all crazy?

A Burdened Mind and a Heavy Heart.

2009-02-27T09:38:00.000-08:00

Lately, I have been a little stressed (cold sores all over me to prove it) and feeling somewhat tearful and emotional.
There may be something on the horizon in terms of a referral…or maybe not lol.
I can’t explain yet…but I know what I mean 

I’m trying not to think about it and some days it works great, some days it follows me around like a shadow stalking me, refusing to leave my side.
It’s on the latter that I feel surges of adrenaline pumping through my body, I feel my heart step to the beat a little faster, and I just don’t know where to begin making sense of anything.

I really am not in a desperate hurry, but then I don’t want to be like this in a limbo between two worlds either.
I tell myself sincerely that it’s all good. I know without a doubt that it will happen when God wants it to.
That’ll do me.

One issue that has been on my mind increasingly as this has gone on is that I know, somewhere, a parent or possibly two ( or more) will have to go through a personal tragedy in order for them to have to give up/abandon/ or leave (if by death) their child/ren. And this piece of knowledge really breaks my heart. I try and imagine myself too poor to be able to give my baby milk, or feed my family; too poor to get medical help. I wonder what on earth I would feel If I had to give my baby up after carrying it inside me, and giving birth through the intense hardship that only labour brings and trying to nurture it.

I can only go so far with this train of thought before my throat tightens up and tears burn my eyes. I can only thank God who has not put me in this position and I seek refuge from being tried in such a way.

I know that our prospective children will come from such a background, and it is such a difficult thing to face. The loss for them, and their family is immense.
Yet, the consolation as my dear husband reminds me, is the fact that these children have people like us to take them. How would this all be if at the end of it all there were no families to take these children after their parents had died or had been forced to relinquish them?
And who knows, maybe it will a blessing and actually better for them to be with us.

I have thought about this time and time over, but it is because we are at this particular moment in time, where we are insha’Allah so close to getting a referral, that my heart feels as though it is grieving for those babies and parents. After all don’t we all have the right (and the desire) to know who our parents are? To know who we look like, whose traits we carry, and where those come from through the generations gone before. Those bonds that enables us to piece the puzzle together, and understand where we fit in it; they really are irreplaceable.
I wont be able to give these children a full genetic history, or know how to speak their language of heritage, or cook the homemade food their own Mother would have made with her loving hands.

But I can teach them what I can, and I can love them in the best way I can, and I can make them food made with my own hands. I pray to God that I love all my children in the same way, making no distinction between them, and love them enough to be just, decent and a damn good role model.
I hope and pray more than anything I can give them the one thing I know will make the difference in this life and their afterlife. The ‘One’ thing.

This side of adoption is a harsher reality than most of us can face, but if we don’t try and understand or empathise with what we fear, what we don’t recognize and sometimes what we run from, then we will never be able to understand humanity and all it encompasses; compassion, suffering, love, evil, sincerity, and I guess every feeling and emotion on this blessed earth.
It is imperative to reflect…to try and make some sense of human nature, of our own lives, our aims and purpose. Without the ability to reflect we really are nothing, and I mean literally nothing. Our lives melt into some meaningless and worse still, worthless existence.
I’m scared of being in that place, I want to feel, to understand to try and make sense. To somehow better myself, and somehow …make my children better than me.

What Next?

2009-02-19T10:16:00.000-08:00

Well, now, we pray, we wait, we spring clean cupboards that have accumulated un-needed things and lost their ‘cupboard-system’; we sort out finances and some sort of credit card that doesn’t bite too hard; we hunt for bargains in pushchairs and baby clothes ( I have some great condition hand-me-downs too); buy an extra mattress to go with the second cot we have; sort out a decent plan for what to do with the cats while we’re gone; research the deal on induced lactation for breastfeeding; we get vaccinated (which is proving to be confusing); we prepare what we can of donations and aid; we research places to stay in Addis and where we can get halal food etc; in essence, we prepare best we can, and then pray some more that Allah makes this easy on us, that He guides us to good works and blesses us in it.

'My Precious'

2009-02-19T10:11:00.000-08:00

So, ‘My Precious’ aka ‘our dossier’ had left our weary hands and sat in the DHL office in the Hilton Hotel. We dropped it off on Thursday but it wouldn’t be dispatched till Saturday. I had my receipt at the ready, it had the reference number on it with which I would manically, nervously and excitedly track the progress of this cargo as it sojourns its way across the world to the continent where my parents were born, and where insha’Allah my children to be will be born.

On Monday I couldn’t connect to the internet to track, I knew ‘My Precious’ was due to arrive on Tuesday so thought I would just wait. But then I received a text on my mobile at midday-ish saying it had arrived. Oh, I was so happy. Praise Allah, it had arrived safely and had been signed for.

We sat down later and emailed our contact at the foster home and asked her to confirm the arrival of the dossier and also to confirm the specifications of age and gender we would like the children to be.

Wow. What a day. A day I just never saw coming.
Our dossier is there. It will God wiling be translated and he process will be put into motion.
Our contact confirmed she had received it and said she will start looking. Whoa Baba…as my little one used to say….

Subhana’Allah

My boys at the Beach...

2009-02-13T04:41:00.000-08:00

Our day chilling at the corniche...if these pics are posted all weird, I apologise, but blogger is c*** to use for uploading pics!

Last Day before Posting Nail Biting Preparation...

2009-02-13T04:10:00.000-08:00

And then...we were done...

2009-01-29T11:25:00.001-08:00

So, January saw us obtaining our affidavit (yeah I know, why on earth is it called that? You what?) from a lawyer here in A/A. We needed it to produce for the British Embassy in order for them to give us a letter of no objection. When I say give, I mean in exchange for a few hundred dirhams lol.
Hubby had two weeks off, and we had planned a fortnight filled with fun activities at a hundred and one different official type places (shiny big buildings)dotted around Abu Dhabi and Dubai. We were focused, and ready to get our work done because we knew it was going to be our only chance probably for the next six months at least. So we knew if we bodged this up we’d be screwed as our med certs run out in three months, our police clearances run out in two months and soon our Homestudy itself would run out. You can see where this is running...
So, on the first available day, Monday, we set off for Dubai at a ridiculous hour of the morning, and headed straight to Dubai Health care City to the Department of Health. Here we had to have our Homestudy, Med Certs and Post placement report attested. The doc who did it was so kind, he waived the fee for us. May God bless him. It really wasn’t the money, it was the act of kindness and compassion that touched my heart, it’s a commodity getting rarer by the day.
We then had a great brekkie and filled our hungry tummies at last in the quirky café downstairs.
We then left for Bur Dubai to the Ministry of Health. Apparently it has to be in this order, the DOH has to be first and the MOH then attest what the DOH have stamped. This place took some finding, a hell of a time parking, and a lot of walking and dodging terrifying traffic. We went in and were seen to straight away. We has the same documents stamped. However, one thing i realized was that there was a stamp missing on our post placement report from our homestudy agency. So we headed back to Al Wasl road after all was finished to get our missing stamp.
Shattered but satisfied we went home.
Two days later we toddled off to Abu Dhabi to get the letter of no objection. We got lost, stuck in horrendous traffic and made it into the Embassy in the nick of time. If you use ‘Map 24’ to find your way to the Embassy, don’t believe a bloody word of it, lies, damn lies…
Anyway it was all made totally worthwhile as we headed off to the Corniche and played in the sand by the sea. It was my little un’s first time at the beach, well since he was in my stomach. It was wonderful and the change of scenery was a soothing tonic to my eyes and heart. I’ll post pics later.
The next morning saw us at the Bank getting our proof of economic status. Our Arab attendee was very courteous and kind and we had our letter headed, stamped letter for a fee and off we went whistling home, except we weren’t really whistling…but close.
A few days after that we spent the entire day sorting through our documents. We made sure we had everything that was required from the Ethiopian checklist, put them in order, made an index page and went off to get it bound - which nearly gave me a cardiac as I had to stand there and watch some dude handle my documents with such a blasé attitude that I felt like shaking him and asking whether he had any idea how many tears, late nights, sweat and comfort eating had gone into this bundle he was nonchalantly throwing in and out of his binding machine. Obviously he didn’t because he ened up messing a page up due to carelessness. But he managed to fix it in the end, and I just wanted the dossier back in my hands which, by the way, had turned into ‘football hands’, champions league final hands to be exact.
Hubby always gets cold sweaty hands when he watches important (yeah ok hubby they are ALL important) matches played by Liverpool, he hunches forward on the settee, eyes wild and intense not moving from the screen, and in a state of horror not wanting to watch and not being able to turn away. Well, that was me tonight watching this dossier binding facade. Hubby looked at me and kept encouraging me to be calm and keep patient. Man, I didn't even utter a word. He said I looked like a psycho just biding my time to kill someone. LOL, makes sense, it is a tiny bit how I felt.

The next morning, the British Embassy were in A/A, at the intercom hotel. So off went, to get our bundle notarized.
Except, they couldn’t do it. I was perplexed, I had been told that the bundle would be notarized as a whole and stamps would be added to the front page. They would only notarise official documents from the UK, and told us that we had to go to that Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) first. But they were very nice about it and tried their best to help.
We came home and discussed our options and then hubby called a friend who had adopted from ET last year. He explained that the British embassy would only notarise documents from the UK, that MOFA would only notarise documents from the UAE, and that the Ethiopian Consulate would only notarise documents stamped my MOFA.
Okay this now made sense.

So, yesterday we went to MOFA, or as Hubby calls it ‘Mo-Fo’. Sorry , for those of you tut tutting away and covering your ears lol. That’s my Al for you.
Parking at the MOFA is awful, but it was quick, albeit a little pricey at 150 AED a pop, all our documents together cost 900 AED. Not a problem, it is all a means to an end.
Then, our final stop; the Ethiopian Consulate which is also in Bur Dubai but a little trickier to find. I was quite shocked to see it, it was not a shiny nice big villa conversion like most of the other consulates, it’s a few small rooms on the sixth floor of a building. No security checks, no confiscation of phones, just a waiting room with no A/C and Ethiopian music and TV playing in the background.
By this time we were so exhausted and just wanted to get our stamps and out. However, we were told we could get our stamps but there was a problem because the accountant was not there and we couldn’t get a receipt. We asked if he would hand write one instead; that we had come an awful long way, that we didn’t even want a receipt. But the man said he couldn’t. So, over the next two hours we got up and down checking in at the window in front of every now and then. The three of us were hungry, tired and needed to get out. At one point me and Hubby were up at the glass window waiting for the man to get back, I turn around to see Hubby leaning forward, face up close to the window, he turns around and grins at me and says, ‘hey you can steam up the window if you breathe on it enough, and if you breathe through the gap you can feel the A/C from the other side of the room…’ Oh dear God. I looked at him and just shook my head. I knew he’d gone beyond the point of fatigue and hunger and had wondered off into the ‘high as a kite’ realm of hyperness. BUT, it made me giggle and I needed it to take my mind of feeling literally dizzy, queasy and just ‘not so good’.
Eventually, we were called, he stamped our 6 pages previously attested by ‘Mo-Fo’ and it took a whopping 1890 AED out of our wallet. Lol, again, a means to an end.

We left at long last, and headed to a Lebanese restaurant for lunch. Towards the end of a nice lunch we were reminiscing about the night our youngest was born as he turned 3 yesterday Alhamdulillah. I was overcome with emotion, I couldn’t get over the fact we had completed all our notary work and were ready to send our dossier, I was all emotional about my baby turning another year older, and in tears I whimpered to Hubby that I felt so emotional at this moment in time that I could (uncharacteristically) cry and scream. He looked at me kindly, smiled at me sympathetically and said to me dryly, “I’ll meet you at the car…”
Okay then….
And off we went home, exhausted but happy to have reached our goal for the day.

So, this leads me to today.
Today we went back to the ‘binding place’ and had 3 more copies made and bound. We kept one, and then went to DHL in the evening and sent off three copies to ET. One being the original, the other two being copies.
I will try and put up pics on he next post of all these shenanigans.

I feel happy, yet redundant. What do I do now? I guess we wait. We save money, and prepare, there is actually a LOT left to do.
We pray and give thanks for the journey so far, for all our blessings. We ask Allah His mercy and guidance for the rest of the journey and indeed rest of our lives.
I don’t know even know how we have got here, this past year and a half has been amazing. Its been joyful, and its been an immense trial at times, but its all from God and in Him I will put my trust and try and be patient with it all.
Blessings upon blessings.

Got It!!

2009-01-29T09:26:00.000-08:00

On December the 27th, we went down to Al Wasl rd to collect our final Homestudy report. We took our police clearance and for some inexplicable reason we also took ALL of our other documents and identification…maybe it wasn’t so crazy because as it happened we found we had to produce a whole handful of documents AGAIN. Documents which had been provided before and should have been ticked off the checklist. I am not saying this to have a good moan, but as an indication to those of you intending on using the same agency that it can be a little hap hazard and careless. It was an hour of repeatedly going through it all again, taking copies and showing this or that before we had our homestudy in our hands. BUT it was all worth it. Walking out of there with it was an amazing feeling. I couldn’t quite grasp it. This is the document I had been waiting for, that we had been working for since last October. Attending homestudy sessions travelling to a different emirate by taxi (we didn’t have a car in those days) with the kids in the heat etc; working researching and grafting to find a way to collate all the right documents, prove we had enough money (which lol we didn’t), enough space in our home (which we didn’t at the time - living in a two bedroom apartment), and oh, enough sanity and equilibrium between the four of us to raise another two kids – which lol we don’t and probably never will have, but that one is just tough!
So walking out of there with our final, signed and completed report was a huge feat and felt like a release. Exhale.

The 'Visit'

2009-01-16T03:53:00.000-08:00

Okay, so where were we?
That’s right; we’d just finished our last minute cleaning, safety checks and perfuming the house. I ran off upstairs for a quick shower, hubby ran off to the living room for a quick game of PES (2009) on the play station, my eldest ran off ouside to play with the neighbours kids, I changed clothes 3 times before coming downstairs. You’d think I was preparing for a big date – and I guess it was in a way!
Anyway I finally made it downstairs, and hubby received a call from our s/w – they were near the house and needed a little help, so hubby went off to collect them.
While he was gone I ran around the kitchen like a headless chook preparing teacups ‘and stuff’ that weren’t even used in the end. I guess this was my time for being nervous, and as soon as they came through the door, I took a deep breath and I was fine.

The session was very different to how I had anticipated.
Our s/w opened her laptop and went through many many fine details about us, confirming dates, addresses, backgrounds and history. This baffled me; I knew we had provided all this on our biography template we had painstakingly filled in and emailed back to her months ago.
I have to say we were a little peeved. Just about all our time was taken up doing this and nothing was discussed, nor any information given. I know many months back she had said she would want to talk to us about us wanting to adopt more than one child. But this topic did not surface. Neither did anything else. Maybe a blessing?
We were under the impression that she would go over the whole process, make sure we have understood everything, gone over details of next steps etc
What do you say? What can you say? We desperately wanted this session out of the way in order to get our report in time. And all said and done, it wasn’t our place to point out some one else’s job specs to them.
As soon as this finished, we showed her around the house. Nothing was really inspected or assessed – good or bad you decide…
But thank God nothing was a major problem, and we were told to mail her pics of the stair-gates once we had them fitted in - which we did only a few days later on.

She left, and we sat down shattered. My mind just went numb. I couldn’t talk about how it went or what I thought. I was too tired and mentally drained to think. We were very hungry and too tired to fix any thing, I felt like I needed to get right out of the house, so we went out to eat.
We ended up at the Diwan restaurant in town.
Its strange because I couldn’t even eat properly, and just felt my brain was a mush. After the meal we went for a little walk in a nearby plaza, and I just suddenly felt ill. I felt very weak and dizzy and we made our way home.

The next day we were all still tired and just mooched around at home.
This was my brother’s wedding day. I was thinking of them all day, wondering what stage they were at next. In the evening they called, and I spoke to them all and congratulated them. They sounded happy and light, warm and exited. It was that fuzzy feeling I could hear in their voices, you now the feeling you get when families meet up and enjoy each others company, good food, a few laughs, and happy fatigue at the end of it all. It helped to speak to them, it was comforting and relieving.

But I still felt ill; I had no energy at all. In fact this only got worse as the week progressed. I ended up with a constant migraine. I could not take a few steps without feeling like my brain was gong to explode out of my head. I felt dizzy, extremely nauseas and lost my appetite.
What compounded it was the fact that I felt so tired I had no energy to do anything at all, and just doing the basics like getting myself and the little one downstairs was a task for me. Everything came to a complete standstill for me, no more phone calls, no more research, no more even caring about half of it to be honest.
Hubby was such a good help, masha’Allah, he always is.
I felt like this for the next few weeks, and apart from the odd day where I would feel better, it remained the same.
I even went to the hospital to get checked and dare I say it, I even had a pregnancy test done. I knew I wasn’t expecting but my symptoms were just so typical that I couldn’t help but wonder whether I suddenly no longer knew my own mind or body.
Anyway it was negative, not a huge surprise.
After that I slowly began to feel better. I think it was a culmination of many things, but a whole lot more mental/emotional than physical. I had a whole lot on my mind, more than I care to express here – no offense dear reader.
Only problem is, these things manifest themselves physically when your head is over flowing with thoughts worries and general emotional aches and pains.
I think for now I’m okay. I think I managed to get some of it resolved.

We stayed on our s/w’s case to get our report done quickly, and bless her she did it, but it we knew we could not pick it up till we had finalized our UAE police clearance.
On December 1st we went to get it done, and went down to Al Jimi police station to get hubbies done as that’s where men have their “basma’ (Arabic for police clearance) done. We were told to go away and come back as they had finished for the day and it was only 1.30pm. So we went down to the main station (munazareeya) I think it is called) opposite Baladiyya park where we were told women have their basma done, only to be told we needed some kind of charge card to pay for it. So we went up the road and made our way slowly through the massive car park into immigration and bought two cards, then as quickly as we could made our way back to the main station. Only to be told they had finished for the day. And not only had they finished for the day, they were closed for the next 2 weeks, due to National day and Eid holidays. I couldn’t believe it, our whole timeline had once again been thrown off target, and these police clearances were becoming the bane of my year.
I sat down on a seat, deflated and tired, and cried. I think it was the last straw, and maybe this had been coming. But I felt too exhausted to cope anymore. Everything went round in circles in my head; the sheer hard work all this had taken since last year, the research, the trips to Dubai, the intense homesickness, the loneliness I felt here constantly, missing my brothers’ wedding and not to mention family and friends, the problems I had with expressing milk, my daily grind and struggle with trying to be a decent, good, involved Mother and wife…it all just drowned me and I could hold it no longer.
I cried, hubby sat with me, and tried to console me.
I know better than to question and ask ‘why?’, I t wasn’t that. I knew it was how it was meant to be. I just felt tired of it all.

Two weeks later, we came back, and each went through the process of electronic finger printing etc to get our clearances done.
I then went back to pick them up a week later. Even then there was a slight problem as the system had the incorrect data regarding hubbies’ passport details, so I had to go back to immigration to have it amended. But it was a small job and I got our basma’s relatively easily.

That was it, that was the last of the documents we needed to get our report. Phew….
More on that later!

November and the run up to the HOME VISIT...

2008-12-28T07:51:00.000-08:00

What a couple of months....

Let’s back blog to November. With my police clearance through I knew we could now go ahead with booking our home visit. This meant i had to get a few documents prepared and updated to show at the visit, as well as doing a lot of research on all the various steps we needed to take once the visit had been completed.

Blimey this began a manic month, little did I know it would be one which would test my patience and physical strength at the same time.

At the start of the month I had a list as long as my arm, need to check this, phone here, go there, find out where, who, when etc etc.
Every morning I was on the phone, I really was at a loss, I didn’t even have numbers for the places I needed to ring, so my best friend soon became ‘181’. UAE’s directory enquiry. Every time I rang it would be a different request, - The Ministry of Health in Dubai, The Department of Health in Dubai, The FCO, The British Embassies in Abu Dhabi and Dubai…
Oh and the grief I faced, with most of these places, I would ring to be greeted by a grunt, I would then ask regarding my query only to be grunted at again, ‘huh?’ At best I would hear a babble of Arabic, at worst I would almost get shouted at; ‘what do you want??’. And these were customer service people? In the end I was calling asking simply to speak to anyone who spoke English.

I needed to know opening times, fees, locations etc, and bloomin flaming nora it was hard work. I found my insides bubbling over somedays but didn’t show it (I hope lol) To us from the west this type of service feels nothing short of rude and blunt, but I know that they don’t mean to be, I think customer service skills are just not known of in many sectors around here, and to these (Indians/Pakistanis/arabs) people they are not doing anything wrong. I found it was a test forme and that it really was for me be patient. I know that these are the very same people wo will probably show mw immense hospitality and warmth if I was to entr their homes. I still have some research to do, I’m not looking forward to it and will need a stiff ginger ale before I call again…lol.

Alongside of this I was wound up inside because my brother was getting married in November – on the 16th. I cannot begin to tell you how upset I felt at the thought of not being there. It’s a day I have anticipated in excitement since …well what feels like forever. My little brother was getting married…gosh, it was a surreal feeling.
I knew we were not attending, for various reasons; we couldn’t afford it, no one had holidays etc aaaand, we had a home visit booked- almost…
When trying to book my home visit with our s/w, she could only give us an approximate date – the 15th. Her father in law in India was ill and she had asked me to text her a few days before hand to confirm.

So, I was in the midst of research, collating documents, missing home and knowing I would miss my brother’s wedding which was killing me inside, I just couldn’t handle the fact that I would miss this day, miss not being there a week or two before to help and plan and organize in the excitement. To help my folks, to be with friends, family and a new set of family members on the wedding day, it was more than I could bear and I knew that day would be very hard on me. I was in tears already and constantly churned up inside.
At the same time I was upset over the damn bluddy workmen who were supposed to fix up the house so we could organize and set it nicely before the home visit.
Nothing seemed to going according to plan.
For 6 months we have now been battling for the fixing to get done and it has been an ordeal. No one wants to know, everyone passes the buck and takes the bloomin Michael……..
So knowing most of it wouldn’t get done anytime soon, I set to work clearing out rooms and getting them ready. Hubby was having a major heavy fortnight at work with extra meetings, pd’s etc and he was also rushed off his feet.
My best friend from back home was here in Dubai and I desperately wanted to see her and knew until our homevisit was done it wouldn’t be possible. So all of this, as well as life’s usual stresses and strains took my every waking hour up and somehow it was suddenly the 15th.

We awoke early, and basically cleaned and finished last minute things, fixed in all the safety measures we had bought like socket covers and rubber corners for tables etc.
Finally at 3pm ish it was all clean, child proofed, and ‘ouded.’

Oud (pron like ‘good’) – a middle eastern type of incense burned to perfume homes, clothes and the body! When the good stuff is used, believe me, it’s good.

I’ll do a quick write up of the home visit in my next post God willing.

2008-12-28T05:25:00.000-08:00

Here are our two new additions, they were about 6 weeks when we got them. They were strays

outside our compound. Welcome home Peachy and Minin Mao!!

They spent their first week scared, ill and nervous, but after that they just blossomed.

They are the most loving playful and affectionate little souls. They are so good it's untrue.

The bigger cat is our first one Mao!

IT CAME!!!!!

2008-10-21T10:59:00.000-07:00

All praises to God, my clearance came. It came!!!!
AND...it says I’m not a criminal. Phew. For a minute there....

What am I doing?

2008-08-06T10:57:00.000-07:00

How many times do I ask myself what on earth I think I’m doing? I want to adopt two children? TWO? I barely find the time and energy to deal with the two I already have. They are not ogres or hyper or troublesome – they’re just kids.. But it’s just life isn’t it? Time is hurtling past at some terrific speed and a day feels like a minute. I wonder how I will cope with daily feeding, washing, changing, cleaning, spending quality time with the older one as well as the younger ones. How will I find quality time with my husband? Seriously ironing for four kids and two adults? How on earth will we go shopping with four kids? I mean who sits in the pushchair? Who walks and who holds whose hands, and who drives the trolley? How will we possibly afford to travel abroad? How will I find the time to go to the gym? I don’t think it’s vain. I am not getting younger and I feel immense health benefits by exercising regularly. I feel it relieving my mind as well as body, and lastly it’s my time. I need it – literally. But what if I can’t go? What if I cant find to brush my hair even and end up looking like Shrek’s great grandmother?
Then I look around and realise people have four and more kids and guess what? They survive. They manage. How many families have I come across on my ‘virtual’ adoption travels and found them to be alive and functioning well with six, ten, and up to 35 children?
We always planned on having more kids (although not quite over 15ish) whether adopted or biological. So really it doesn’t make a difference. I would have still had to work these things out, still had to face these issues. And the biggest reminder is that Allah provides. It’s up to me to trust. I think too much fretting is wrong. It feels wrong. It alters the sincerity with which I approach things. What’s the alternative, never to venture beyond my comfort zone for fear of rocking the boat? Everything rocks the boat...a new baby, a new job, a house move, a tragedy etc etc. That’s life. You have to make decisions and go with them. Let your boat rock and go with it.

The other stark reminder to me is reading articles such as this;

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/06/ethiopia_in_food_crisis_once_m.html

I feel like, if I know I have a chance to do something, even a tiny something then I have to, it is upon me. It’s real, and it’s happening now. Suddenly I find myself wondering why I haven’t done this sooner. What am I wasting time for?
Read such articles and feel your stomach being wrenched. Don’t sit by. There’s a lot we can all do, and not everyone can or wants to adopt, but there are a lot of other things you can do.

What am I doing?

And I'm Still Waiting...

2008-08-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

Okay so I told you we had our documents notarised and we had to wait right?
Well, hubby’s police clearance came through about June. I had been notified mine too was on its way so I sat tight and waited. Come mid July still nothing. So I called the police and spoke to a very blunt police woman (who wouldn’t let me finish my sentences) she took my email add and told me she’d let me know what she finds out.
The next day I get a mail saying I hadn’t responded in the forty day time frame and therefore had to re-apply. You WHAT?? Well I was fuming and dog gone disappointed all in one.
They did not at any point inform us of this forty day time limit, and surely they would still have my records to file and should be able to re send my notification right?
I knew if I reapplied it would cost me another twenty pounds between application and postage, and also it would take months before I received anything.
‘Oh no they don’t, we are going to write a ‘scathing email’ says hubby. And so he did. It was actually an articulate and firm mail asking for this to be sorted pronto or escalated to higher authority. He missed his vocation in life, he should have been a good for nothing solicitor/lawyer.
Anyway we received the very next day a mighty polite email form the police officer saying they would send my notification out that very same day and if I hadn’t received it by 28th August to let them know.
Sweet.
Anyway I’m holding my breath till it arrives.

More sessions

2008-08-06T10:47:00.000-07:00

It’s mid July and I realise things haven’t gone to our vague plan, but its just as well as we don’t have a dirham to realise any plans with lol. No probs. Anyway it gives us time to book our final home study session – a home visit. Then we get the report and then we have to get ALL our documents notarised at the British and Ethiopian embassies before sending our dossier off to Ethiopia.
Hmmph turns out all these months we were led to believe this was all that was left. But I learned after speaking to our social worker that we actually can’t do the home visit until we have done a screening with Suzanne Phillips who also deals with adoptions at the clinic. But why were we not told? How long has this been in place? Since last November I am told.
Arrgghh.
What I am worried about is that it will be difficult fitting these two appointments in the hols and finding the time to get to the embassies.
Our social worker is on hols for two weeks, and Suzanne is soon on hols for a month.
However I spoke to Suzanne who she was very kind and understanding and told me to do the home visit and that she would see us afterwards as soon as she got back.
Still off our time line but I’m not going to panic over it. There’s no point. It all seems to happening by itself, and I feel as though we are being carried by a current. So I will happily let it carry me and watch how this unfolds.

Sunshine Through My Window...

2008-05-24T02:57:00.000-07:00

I went in to my toddler’s room to wake him from his afternoon slumber. For once I decided not to hurry and gently lay down next him. I stroked his sweaty little head, and ran my fingers over his face. Even though the curtains were drawn there was a beautiful late afternoon glow in the room, and the curtains were gently moving (to the A/C!)
He woke, and with sleepy eyes looked at me, and draped his little arm over mine and closed his eyes again.
I drifted back 5 years to my eldest child at the same age. It feels like a minute ago that I was stroking his face and putting my head on his little chest while he held me. Where on earth did it go?
It brought a smile to my face reminiscing about those days and how sweet the love is that I hold for my children today. So much so that sometimes I feel as though my heart simply cannot contain it.
I just wanted this moment to stay. I breathed it into my lungs, into my body and into my soul. I knew it too will disappear and I wanted to cherish it.
Beautiful irreplaceable moments.

Whoopy Do..!

2008-05-24T02:09:00.000-07:00

Well folks, I know it has been simply ages since I last frequented this blog, but many factors have taken my time, energy and desire to post. After simply losing the heart and will to do so, I became busy with moving house, and with it came so much to sort out, organise and set up that it left no time for me to actually sit down and write anything of any sense.

Okay first thing is first, we actually had four documents notarised!!

I know, it’s a shock to the system right? It happened about 6 weeks ago when hubs had a week off, and in the midst of losing our brains over moving house, living in dirty clothes, sleeping between two places, eating junk all the time, we managed to get to Dubai (Bar Dubai) and find the sorry excuse of a porta-cabin that calls itself the ‘British Embassy’
We entered one ‘cabin’ walked round a windy path surrounded by flowers and such pretty things, to another porta cabin where we had to hand in our phones ( felt like leaving my arm behind- bad sign huh?) then we walked around another windy path to another ‘cabin’ where there were no signs or information as to whether we were in the right place. However we took a ticket and sat. Within five minutes a rather moody and impatient lady called us in. We tried extra hard to be nice as we requested our document be done the same morning (closes at 1pm, an usually takes 2 days for notaries), she said to wait so we sat back down, and whoopy do (northern expression – can be used sarcastically especially if you place a strong expletive after the whoopy) about 10 minutes later we had the notarised documents for a price of 800 dirhams in total. We thanked the lady profusely, she had obviously done her bit and I didn’t take her mood personally.

We even found the road towards home very quickly, and got onto the motorway.
We will need to get a lot more documents done in the future but at least we know where to go now and what to do.

Oh the relief. You see this means we could send off our police clearance forms. We can only see ourselves moving ahead if we get positive clearance back from the GMP. It is a requirement of the homestudy.

So, we posted off the documents with a letter of plea for a quick response. I have been told they take a long time.

So, now we wait.

The Colour of Adoption

2008-02-10T06:47:00.000-08:00

On the drive to Abu Dhabi, I sit in contemplative silence watching dunes of sand roll by. What fascinated me were the colours of each dune before my eyes; rich chocolate, deep golden tan and honeyed cream. These three colours look breathtaking against the blue- ness of the sky.
The sand dunes stood alongside each other in calm unison and harmony.
My head ponders the question, ‘What colour was I made from?’
Does it matter to me?
No.
I am made from the same dust/clay as every other human on the planet and when my time comes to return to my Lord and Owner, the earth will reclaim my physical being in the same manner as it will each of you reading this - regardless of your skin colour.

Transracial adoption

Transracial or transcultural adoption means placing a child who is of one race or ethnic group with adoptive parents of another race or ethnic group.
In our hope to adopt we are open to a child of any race. As it happens our choice means that God willing we may be blessed with a black child. As a family we embrace, welcome and feel great joy at the thought this. However I am not so naïve as to think everyone shares the same enthusiasm.
I wonder about the reaction of those who we will come across, and while I know there will be many genuinely happy hearts for us, we will also receive raised eyebrows, the odd comment, and maybe some hurtful remarks along the way from strangers, friends and family alike.
I know undertaking a transracial adoption is a huge responsibility, this will be a child who has suffered nothing but loss within its first few months of life; it’s mother, father, family, community, food, language, country etc. In as much as we possible can we want to allow the child to retain it’s identity, and hope that much of what it has lost we can bring into all our lives and learn together as a family. Obviously some things are irreplaceable and we understand that. However one thing I realise is that colour is not the only issue to be considered with transracial adoption, there is so much more, and hopefully we want to give that child/ren a hundred percentin terms of helping him/her integrate into our lives, and us into his/her life.

There is much serious concern in the international adoption community about taking on children of different colour. Many people I have come across have faced welcoming arms, whilst many have faced hostility from family and friends.
I hope I can stand in the face of any hostility with patience. I know that how I react to others will be a profound example to my children and I want them to learn good character by handling themselves with humility, dignity and respect.
I also hope that by being patient with people I can help dilute the ignorance and fear in their minds.
It’s a tough call – as much as I can sit here and type and plan, I know it will be a pure test of patience if and when faced with nasty vibes from other people. When it comes to my family, especially my children I feel like a defensive lioness guarding her cubs.

Looking back into my childhood I now realise how much discrimination was prevalent within my own family, community and society. I am of Asian descent, and I grew up watching many people look down in disgust at others who were darker skinned. Your status was partly dependant upon how fair skinned you were, as was your eligibility of getting married sooner rather than later and to a ‘good’ family (ie a doctor or accountant).

Thank my dear Lord I never fell victim to such train of thought. Inside I was fascinated by the diversity I saw around me and wanted to know more. I remember making my first black friend in London, I was on cloud nine – not just because she was nice as pie, but she was coloured and she was as human as I am. After that my friends comprised of colours and races from every corner of the globe, and it solidified my convictions further.

As a child I was also bullied a fair bit at school and it still cuts deep when recalling events. It is a very difficult issue to know how to handle as an adult let alone as a child. Racism is nothing short of destructive and only serves to fuel hatred and ignorance whilst killing any self esteem you may have.

I think we are well aware of the implications of transracial adoption, but we are still learning, still reading and preparing. I am sure our learning curve will take us on along journey May Allah guide us through it.

Paper chasing...

2008-01-22T22:29:00.000-08:00

Saturday the 19th saw us going to Dubai for our possibly last homestudy session (yippee!); we each had a medical with Dr Phillips, an utterly pleasant fellow, who probably now wonders at our emotional state, especially after meeting my hyper husband. For some reason the other half was in a ‘4 year old – stuffed to the eyeballs full of smarties, ice-cream, and more smarties’ hyper, giddy, giggly mood. Now it is not unusual to find him in this state every now and then. Anyway it was fun to say the least…
It was very nice to see our s/w (social worker) after so long – it’s been a good 6ish weeks since the last one. We spent most of the two hours going through our documents and asking questions. We spent some time answering a few questions for her.
The one thing we were a little puzzled with was the fact that they don’t have the information you need. For example, we were asking about the process after we finish the homestudy, and we were expecting to be told with certainty where to go, what do, and exactly where everything is. But the information was very vague. We have no complaints as such with the medical centre but do think they need to be clued up on the appropriate information because this is no small matter for us pre adoptive parents.
So now we desperately need to tie many loose ends. Notary – my brain screams from the top of its lungs……
We need to write statements, collect references, write a power of attorney letter, write a biography, write a letter of verification of naturalisation, and one of obligation of adoption, two police clearances…..oh my, it feels like an endless list at the moment.
Oh and one home visit by our s/w.
And then … Notary….*collapses in a heap*

A bit of this and that...

2008-01-13T10:41:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while since I last blogged. Not a lot has been happening. We just has winter hols – 2 ½ weeks. We ended up rescuing another little kitten (Leia) the poor thing was injured and ill enough to make us want to weep. She went to the vets for a few days and came back bouncy and happy as Tigger. Out of self defence she ended up biting my poor other half (he was bathing her) he then had to go for tetnus and rabies shots and came back feeling the side effects and felt ill for days. Leia was taken in by a neighbour (we already have Mao so we couldn’t keep another) who had spotted her in the first place, however she got ill a few days later and died at the vets. It really was heartbreaking. Inna lillahi wa inna illayhi rajiun – to Allah we belong, and to Allah is our return. There is nothing like death (regardless of whose) to make you stop in your tracks and feel fear from the inside of your very veins, and to make you reflect about your own mortality and those around you. This kitten wont have to answer for her deeds, but we will, may He the Lord of the worlds guide us on the straight path.
The other thing that happened recently was that we finally made it to Oud Outuba street which is between the globe roundabout and the treasure chest roundabout lol….if you know of my town you know it is overrun with roundabouts. We managed to find the little office where they are supposed to provide a notary service. After much difficulty we managed to communicate to the woman behind the desk what we wanted, she spoke to and fro with a man whose desk was a couple of metres to away to the side of hers, then said yes she would do it. Relieved I opened my files and took out the relevant documents and all the originals. We put each copy with its original.
She asked again what we wanted, she didn’t seem to understand the terms notary, legalisation etc. So we explained that we wanted an official stamp on the copies, to basically certify that each was a copy of the original and the original had been seen. Then through difficulty we learned that she could not do it, why …to this day I have no idea. But she told us to go the British Embassy in Abu Dhabi. I tried in the best manner I could to find out why but we could not understand. We then gave up, packed our papers and left, only after she gave a little giggle when she saw my passport and muttered Bakistani (Pakistani). Don’t ask. Here nobody believes our nationality is British and they feel the need tell us we are Pakistani. I just smiled because I was too tired to explain. I wouldn’t mind if my ethnicity was of a Pakistani background but it isn’t lol. Oh well.
Since then we re having a time and a half trying to find a notary service in Al ***. At the moment I’m a bit stuck and may have to go to Dubai but it may prove to be incredibly difficult and expensive. I guess we shall wait and see.

I Heard A Rumour...

2007-12-10T11:28:00.000-08:00

The past few days have centred around many rumours flying around the British message boards which have gotten me a little worried. To give some background, when going through the process of inter-country adoption people from Europe and USA, and other places go through adoption agencies. Basically you conduct the whole process through them; they lead you through it, all the paper work, the different stages, the referral etc they act as a middle man between you and the orphanage.
For us Brits there are no agencies to do this for us, and any adoption we want to do in many parts of the world from what I understand is to be done independently. This is done by either finding an adoption lawyer in the country adoption or a contact who is part of an orphanage who can help take you through the process at their end by arranging paperwork, translations, court attendances, and so on.
This can often prove to be very difficult or near impossible, but because the way has been paved by a few with Ethiopia already, the rest of us can try and follow that same route.
Now, to us Brits this route is known as the loophole; the process by which we have to adopt independently. We have a contact in Ethiopia; a lady who runs an orphanage, and organises the whole adoption process from her end.
The rumours that have been doing the rounds are that this loophole is either closed or closing to us soon. Most of us have been very concerned to say the least. As it happens we found out that it is still open, but how long for no-one knows.

Unless you are in this position it is difficult to fully empathise. For some reason we have settled on Ethiopia. Our research every day has been conducted around finding out about the country, its people, the languages, the religions, the culture, the food and everything else that goes with it. I have spent hours talking to people, and reading about their experiences pre and post adoption, what has been easy, what has been a trial, how to go about things, how to approach the process, how to deal with red tape, how to access information, contacts etc. My heart has resigned itself to this country, to the little children who have no one to call their own, and to a prayer that one day we are able to get through this adoption process to try and raise all our children as just and responsible parents.

But, even after all this, I know without a shadow of a doubt that what will be, will only be if and when Allah appoints it. My Creator made me, and every minute thing about me. Everything has been appointed for a certain time. He gives to me out of His mercy, and takes from me out of His mercy. It is up to me to bear the test of patience and faith. To not just utter from my lips that I trust Him; but to feel my heart beating with that trust from the innermost depths of my own soul. I know what He does is for my own good.
The trial is to be able to actualise this trust when life is not heading in the direction you planned.
How many countless times in the past have I been in some gut wrenching situation and been in some state of frustrated panicked confusion? Too many.
I hate myself for not having the trust I know I should have. It is just one of my many weaknesses, and it always goes hand in hand with the state of my faith at that given time.
I hope I can keep patient, because I know this quest of ours is unpredictable, uncertain and without any guarantees, so patience and contentment with what my Lord has ordained is the absolute key.

Notary anyone?

2007-11-27T09:15:00.000-08:00

Okay, so we’ve downloaded the police clearance forms, except they are called ‘subject access’ forms. Are they the right ones? I only vaguely think so, and if they are, then do I tick that I want manual or computer info?? Like huh? The other bummer is that it will take at least forty days. The bummer bigger than that is that with it we need to send copies of ID which has been authenticated, and in this notary forsaken town I don’t know where to go to get this done. I really don’t want to have to travel to Dubai or Abu Dhabi to get this done, but if we have to then I guess…we have to. No probs insha’Allah (God willing)
But on the upside our homestudy is zooming along, I feel far more relaxed with our doc, I think we have all settled with each other, and she seems very kind. Hubby also seems to be getting some good pointers and maybe things he may not have thought about in depth before…
Last weeks was a bit heavy for me, we were discussing the child’s history. You see the sad fact is that most of these children if not all come from tragic circumstances. Either they are relinquished (given up) by parents because the parents may feel unable to raise the child either due to poverty or illness etc. Or, the parents may have died – many factors contribute to the reasons such as Aids or other diseases, poverty, women dying in childbirth and so on. The child may have been born to a prostitute – many are as young as twelve who have to work the streets to eat. The child could have been a ‘consequence’ of rape, or maybe found abandoned in some alleyway or bin. These are real life accounts, and even while I type this I cannot comprehend the gravity of what this must actually mean to people in these circumstances.
We talked about the fact that children often grieve after being adopted. I found myself weeping and grieving for them.
It’s great people want to adopt, and there are some seemingly real decent folk out there who are trying and doing it, but in an ideal world if all was well for these people we wouldn’t need to adopt.
This weeks session was a little lighter, we discussed life books, and attachment (which can be a heavy subject).
Anyway all in all it was good, and as always kick started a few clogs in my brain turning.

Homestudy- The Start

2007-11-16T06:04:00.000-08:00

Today saw our second session. I’m not quite sure what to make of it to be honest. Our SW (social worker) is a woman who is friendly and nice but I'm not yet relaxed, just a few inches short of comfortable. Having said that, I feel she warmed up to us a lot more than last time. I hope this alleviates further because the nature of the homestudy is quite intimate and if I can’t fully relax or feel able to explain my hearts concerns or questions then I will feel a little short changed, and I really want to do this properly.
Maybe it was us who threw her. I said to huby I couldn't imagine there being many Muslims
coming into her office for this purpose (sadly), and I wouldn't blame her if she was a little sceptical. I hope we didnt put her off lol. Allah knows best.
We were told there were no right or wrong answers, but we learnt that obviously there are. We were posed questions and scenarios, and I thought we put ourselves across as quite sure and reasonably well informed. We did note that for each scenario we were either approved of for offering the correct answer or advised of the ‘right’ thing to say, do, or think. Hmmnnnn….
It is all good though, as we picked up a few helpful tips, and a few question posed proved to be thought provoking later.
I’m a thinker…nah it doesn’t make me intelligent it just makes me tired! I go through scenarios in my head, I ask myself what would I do if this or that happened etc so hopefully it will help when trying to learn through the homestudy.
Today also sees another year Allah has blessed me with on this earth, I pray I make use of my time constructively and this process helps me to be less selfish and opens my heart to much of what exists beyond the point my sight reaches and humbles my soul in serving my creator.

Homestudy 1

2007-11-16T06:02:00.000-08:00

October 28th 2007

Yesterday saw the beginning of the financial process of our adoption journey with the first part of our homestudy. In fact I don’t think I fully acknowledged it whilst at the centre, but it has just hit me. We were inducted on the nature of the homestudy - the financial involvement, and the emotional rollercoaster which lay ahead. Much of this I was a little familiar with from having spoken to many adoptive parents, and reading much as part of my research.
We actually parted with a ridiculous amount of money for one hour worth of intro talk after travelling a looong way for it too. I remember sitting there wandering how on earth we were ever going to do this every week for the next few months financially, physically and emotionally. But this is part and package…and who said it was going to be easy anyway? Husband and I both believe that when you want to something sincerely, you are most probably tested for it; these things don’t just land in your lap. All praises to Allah.
I hear you ask what a homestudy is…
Well it is psychological evaluation of the prospective adoptive parents and family. It is conducted by a psychologist/social worker, who educates and talks through issues regarding parenting and adoption, this person also requires several documents to confirm you are who you say are, that you are sane, and to assess circumstances and details about you are valid and true. In the UAE this requires 12-18 sessions (each an hour long), one home visit, and a few post adoption visits. I understand in the UK it is a much lengthier and financially heavier process, as well as having to present in front of a panel at the end.
This whole study is tied up at the end by a report and submitted as part of the dossier (paperwork) to the prospective country you are adopting from.

A Few FAQ's

2007-11-16T05:27:00.000-08:00

Why do you want to adopt?

Since childhood I have always wanted to adopt.
We have all seen images on the news of war torn countries, famine, and the repercussions, I recall watching and reading about orphans, tiny haunted faces behind the bars of cots, one after another, vacant lifeless eyes staring back at the camera.

Many years on, adoption is almost a possibility, and my desire to adopt (even though I have biological children of my own) has only increased.

We thought about this seriously whilst living in Britain, and realised it was near impossible for us to even get started, however, for various reasons, out here in the middle east we find ourselves in a position which may prove to be the best in many senses and we may never find ourselves here again.

The overriding purpose lies upon our faith. And as you read on you will hopefully begin to understand how we feel the need to try to carry out a task we hope will contribute even in a minuscule amount to the greater benefit of mankind. For the sake of the One who created each one of us, for the sake of the One who sustains us with His infinite mercy, we want to do this.

Here are some more faq’s to introduce you to the topic

How did the process begin?

About two months ago, I began the research. We had no idea how to start, who to speak to, and what the process involved was. It began with a call to the British Embassy here, who put me in touch with an adoption support group. I read, and read and read. I spoke to people from all over the world, who gave me advice and accounts of their experiences. Initially I had no idea what the terminology meant, or what people were referring to, but I soon learnt. I read about countries around the world where people were adopting from and why. I learnt about the children who were up for adoption and why.

I found myself suffering painful migraines, feeling exhausted, but worst of all in a state of heartbreak and helplessness. I had never realised the extent of poverty, death and disease. We are exposed to pictures from the media, and reports about famine, Aids, and disaster, but what I was reading, and the pictures in front of me told a story that made my insides weep, and I realised that what we see on TV barely skims the surfaces.

God has put me in a position where I have never had to experience any of what is making my heart feel like lead weight, and I knew at this point there was no turning back for me. I couldn’t know what I do now and allow my life to drift on by. I felt suddenly responsible. Here I am simply living...I eat, I drink, I am not rich compared to many but I lack nothing, and to me, that does make me rich by the grace of God only.
I have been reading about girls as young as twelve and thirteen having to ‘work’ the streets to feed themselves, seen pictures of tiny toddlers wandering around hungry and abandoned, found out about some of the poorest countries in the world, where life expectancy is at around 40, where children and adults alike sleep amongst the dirt and waste of filthy streets...and I could go on and on.
I know that I don’t know how privileged I am.

Even through this exhaustion I could not stop, I felt an incredible burning drive. I knew I had to find out more about how to do this, and whether it was viable for us.
I found out that it may well be viable perhaps not easily, but that there may be a chance.

I knew I stood here on the precipice of something huge, and unknown. It felt (and still does) frightening, but there was only one way to go from here.
After many discussions my husband and I both knew this was something we wanted to do, and we both felt the same about it. We prayed for guidance, and stepped in.

Why internationally?

So there you have it, we want to adopt, and we want to do so internationally. Why? Because back in Britain we made our enquiries regarding domestic adoption and knew it would be too difficult. We wanted an infant and the chances of domestically adopting one were very slim, on top of that the process was likely to prove too much for us. So international adoption suits us because we know we have to go where the greater need is.
After trawling through countries which have been adopted from such as Sierra Leone, Liberia, Guatemala, Vietnam etc, the country we have chosen for various reasons is Ethiopia. Ethiopia seemed to pull at us and it is here our hearts have settled. There are approximately 6 million orphans there now in desperate need of homes.
These children need families, and our family needs children.
I have come to realise many times that I will never please people, and nor is it my place to do so. My aim should be to please God and maybe that way I can do some minute justice to the world I live in. I am certainly not the best person around, nor am I the best mother, but I try in whichever capacity I can. My sons are my world, and I hope I can nurture other children in the same manner.
Also, this is not some fad I am pursuing, nor do I think it is the way to ‘save’ Africa, but this is our journey...in the pursuit of what? Happiness? Sacrifice? Expiation? Simply more children? Maybe all of the above…
I know I cannot save every child out there, but this anonymous quote puts it aptly,
‘Adopting a child won’t change the world, but for that child, the world will change.’
Well that’s good enough for me.

Welcome!

2007-11-16T05:14:00.000-08:00

I’m almost nervous – as well as exited at the thought of writing this. For so many weeks (and years at that) much of this has occupied the innermost corners of my mind , and I feel I should write it down because if this God willing happens then I want the people involved in my life ( as well as others) to understand a little of the thought process behind it. I am talking here about the process of adoption. It feels almost shocking to say it as it has until now been only inside the privacy of my own mind and home.
Now you all know.

Also, I am actually back-blogging. Much of this has taken place but we knew it wasn’t the right time for us to share yet simply because the process is personal, and precarious at every step, also we didn’t want to tell the world before we felt sure within ourselves and also sure in the process. I hope many of you will forgive us for not sharing from the start, and read on to understand what is involved.

I also hope this makes as a sort of document/journal which chronicles the early days for the child/children that we hope to adopt. Maybe some day they can read back and understand how it all began.