Catching Up

It feels impossible to catch up. I really have no time for a blog and it will only get worse. Temesgen has been home for 28 days. I am surprised it has been that long. Sometimes it just feels like one long day. Not a bad day, but a long one.

A quick review
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Unbelievable diarrhea diapers. The first two weeks home were all about poo: how to control it, survive it, contain it and test it. Every other day I drove to Phoenixville to drop off specimens at my doctor’s office. (I will spare you the trials of collecting it!) On the 20th I dropped off poo in Phoenixville and then headed to Bonnie’s house. Everything took twice as long in the snow. We made it to Bonnie’s house just in time for the inauguration. I was so glad to see it on a TV. I am so hopeful about Obama and what this will mean for my children.

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Wonderful friends delivered food every other day, all of it delicious. The best part was having visitors. I needed the reality check that life was continuing normally for others although time seemed to have stopped at my house. Some days I felt like calling friends and begging them to come over. Please don’t leave me alone with these kids!

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I still haven't had time to look at all the pictures I took in Ethiopia. I wish I could post pictures of the children- they are all so beautiful. It is illegal to post pictures of the children due to privacy issues. This makes sense AND I wish I could show them off.

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The first few days were the hardest. We were recovering from jet lag and not getting much sleep. What were we thinking? Temesgen and I were strangers trying to pretend to be family. We were getting to know each other, which happens at its own speed.

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Battle ground with the damn husband
Too many changes too fast. We are struggling to acclimate. Michael comes home from work and struggles with wanting to be on the third floor alone recording music or writing. As soon as the kids go to bed he heads upstairs until the wee hours in the morning and then drags himself out of bed late and dashes off to work. And I struggle with feeling isolated, lonely and inept. I try to explain to Temesegen that this wasn’t exactly what I had pictured. He screeches. He doesn’t love me, I am constantly stained and moist from drool, spit up or poo, my house is a mess and no matter how hard I try to keep everything together someone (or everyone) in this house is mad at me. Motherhood is very humbling.

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A divided heart between my two children, whose needs always seem to be polar opposites making me feel I have to choose between them. Temesgen needs to nap and Mikaela needs to go out on an adventure. Mikaela needs to play a game with me and Temesgen needs to chew up the game pieces. Mikaela wants snuggles and Temesgen is screaming. We nick named him Screech.

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I take Temesgen to the CHOP adoption clinic. I was worried how they would partner with my holistic doctor to determine his care, but I am pleased with everything. They are wonderful. Temesgen passes with flying colors on all tests except one, which comes as a surprise: attachment. In their words, he shows no signs of attachment to me. I want to cry. I feel a bit betrayed. At home when I put him down, he cries and crawls towards me. Great I thought, he is attaching to me! But no. When the occupational therapist works with him she points out that he never checks back with me at all and when she puts him down he cries for her. He is very social due to great care at the orphanage but is not attached to me. Love me, damn it!

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Thinking about Yaebsira and hoping she will be here soon. I scour the posted photos of the other adoptive families that have returned from traveling trying to discern how she is doing. Does she look happy? Does she know we are coming to pick her up as soon as we can.?

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Thinking about Yaebsira and scared to death that she will be here soon. Can we handle more change and upheaval? Can she?

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I am back facilitating Photography at OC. It feels great to be back and it feels too soon. Temesgen is with me. He does great. He likes watching everything that is going on and is happy to be lugged around in my backpack. The first day back I only had a sling and my back was killing me by the end of the day. My in-laws bought me an Ergo which is wonderful.


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Falling in love with my little man more each day. Two teeth pop out of his bottom gum. He looks so cute when he smiles.

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Dreaming of running away from home, working at a gas station in some state out west where the attendant still pumps. I will wear one of those blue jumpsuits that zip up the front and I will have a big lazy dog that follows me around but doesn’t touch me. At the end of the day I return to my very small, self-cleaning cabin that is lined with bookshelves holding all the books I have wanted to read.

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Two nights ago, lying in bed unable to sleep, I heard a voice whisper “Nigel”. We have been thinking about another name for Temesgen since we received his referral but nothing we thought of felt quite right. We decided to wait until he came home to see what name suited him. Over the past few weeks his African name became natural for us and we stopped focusing on a new name although so many people (especially everyone in my family!) has such a hard time with the pronunciation. Nigel is not a name we had ever discussed. I don’t remember ever hearing the name. I woke up Michael.
“Michael, Michael. Nigel. Do you know anyone named Nigel?“
He groaned and gurgled.
“Michael, I think we need to name him Nigel”
More groans and gurgled.
In the morning Michael remembered the song Making Plans For Nigel by the band XTC and played it for us. That day Mikaela told everyone she saw at OC that his new name was Nigel and Michael told everyone at work. (I told them: “My wife heard a voice in the middle of the night so his name is Nigel. That happens from time to time with her.”

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Last night Michael went to Lydia’s and picked up her old changing table. NO more diaper changes squatting on the floor. I feel liberated!!!

* This morning Mikaela wakes up like every other morning and is a horse.
“I am chocolate colored horse with a white mark on my forehead shaped like a heart. I am a Welsh Pony named Star.”
She trots off.
Michael is doing the dishes (a miracle, I tell you) . Nigel is babbling next to him in the high chair and I am trying to finish up this post. In this moment I love everyone and think, yes, we are going to make it, all of us together.