My children and I look nothing alike and I know that there are those of you with biological children who have children whom look as though they belong to a different family.  I know I am not the first mom to be confronted with the question “is this your baby?”  I know that I am part of a growing group who have to think before we answer this question.  Not because we don’t know the answer–Noah and Zoë are my kids.  I am their mother.  That isn’t the part that gives us pause it is our attempt to read the questioners real question–“Is that your child?” or “Is that your biological child?” 

These are different questions, especially for an adoptive mother.  I want to get over this pause and just say “yes.” Because the question will seem weird to my kids.  It is hard to answer when you know what the person really is asking isn’t the question they have posed.  I struggle with this because I want to answer honestly.  I think my hesitation comes from very early one being asked by a black ex-co-worker “Whose boy is that?” 

“Mine”

“No really whose boy?”

“Mine.”

“Oh.  Where did you adopt him from.”

I was angered, but also didn’t know how to respond to this.  Noah is certainly not a bi-racial child.  But to call someone’s mother/child relationship into question is really an awful thing to do.  Especially infront of a child.  At this time Noah was only 6 months old and it certainly hasn’t harmed him in anyway–but as the kids get older, they will be more aware of these questions and it is important that we own our role as parents. 

I will for now on anwer the question that is asked.

“Are those your babies?”

“Yes. They. Are.”

And for those of you who are curious about us transracial families.  The appropriate question is really not to ask any question–or if you really want to know–“Are you his mom/dad.”  And accept our answers.  Regardless.

Well our little Peepers was cursed with the ever present diarrhea and it was getting worse.  So, I decided that I would put her back on some other local formula as I didn’t want to have to deal with this on the 17+ hour plane ride home.  So, I went to the little market at the Hilton and all they had was French formula.  Go figure.  No local stuff to be had.  So, as I was looking over the formula I noticed a formula specifically for babies with diarrhea.  I so am not kidding.  I was worried about buying it.  I looked closely over it’s ingredients and compared it to the regular French formula.  Nothing that stood out and it all seemed very run of the mill.

OMG.  It so totally works.  Within hours of the first two bottles her stool was much less runny–still not ideal but not explosive.  Then today even better.  I am worried about it constipating her so am alternating between formulas.  I know this isn’t ideal, but she is responding well.  No spitting up and not outward signs of any ill effects.  I will switch her completely to her American formula well into our flight home.

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Nazret.  The drive was long and the visit to the hospital sad and sobering.  I have many many emotions about it and will post more about that later.  I was able to get some answers to my questions–who named her, how long she was there, etc.  I also got pictures of the room and bed she was in and the intake photo as well as the nurse who named and took care of her for her week there.

I am exhausted–as the trip took nearly 7 hours–roads in Ethiopia aren’t great and we had to pick up other children to bring back to AAI’s care center.  It was an intense and long trip.  More later.

This is my last Ethiopia blog post.  We depart tomorrow at 10:15pm Ethiopia time.  I will post on Monday in depth about my trip with pictures.  Have a great weekend.

We are back from Wannafest and it was a blast.  I am so sorry to see it come to an end and sad that we all live so far apart from each other.  It was amazing to meet these other women bloggers whom shared the experience of adoption at the same time.  They are all amazing women (their husbands and kids are pretty awesome too) and I am lucky to call them friends. 

I am happy to be home and sleeping in my own bed.  If I could travel with my bed, I would be happy.  San Diego is a great place, but it certainly makes me happy that I don’t live in SoCal any longer.  The weather is great and lets be honest, you aren’t going to find better Mexican food (which is my favorite), but it is too crowded.  There are too many people.  I just don’t like people that much to live so close to them all the time.  But I hope to go back to San Diego as it really is a great spot and one of my closest friends lives there with her family and it was really great seeing her.  That is one of the great things about friends is that no matter how much times goes by without a face to face meeting, its like you just saw them yesterday.  Good friends, true friends rock. 

Every time I travel, I am thankful for my hubby.  He is so easy to travel with and so much fun to spend time with.  But now I am home and am behind in my school work, since I was gone and didn’t do any homework.  I am a little bloated from all the awesome food we ate and my house is a bit of a mess in the post-vacation laziness way. 

And on the adoption front.  The director of our agency left Ethiopia sometime today and with her I am hoping she carries the file on the beautiful little girl who will become our daughter.  I hope…

Here is a slide show (click on the picture to view the show) of some of the close to 1000 pics I took on this vacation.  You have to love digital photography. 

Wannafest 08

Happy New Year.  I hope everyone had a safe and fun holiday.  I will write more about mine after I stomp my modem into little electronic bits and burn it in a ritual designed to appease the internet gods.  Then I will buy a new modem and hopefully it will work.  If not, I just might have hurt someone. 

or 26 weeks or 6 months…however you want to look at it, it is still a long time to wait.  That is how long we have been waiting for the referral of our baby girl.  I am starting to get anxious and nervous and excited and a little neurotic about this whole waiting thing.  I imagine this must be what the last month of pregnancy is like–without the swollen ankles and the inablility to consume huge amount of wine at the holidays or any random afternoon…

The end of this waiting period is hard.  At this point it is very likely that our little girl has been brought into this world by a courageous and generous woman who knows she cannot take care of this baby who she loves and has loved for 9 months and has nutured to the best of her ability.  This is the hardest thing for me to reconcile.  I want to start loving her (and I already have in the abstract) and want her to know she has another family who longs to love, hold, and nuture her.  The waiting is so hard. 

I have the holidays to distract me, but that isn’t really a good thing as I have been distracting myself by Christmas shopping and have totally spoiled both my son and my husband this holiday season.  Oh, well.  It is just money right? 

Our wait is looking to be at least another month but the end is in sight.  Wait let me rephrase that–the beginning is just around the corner.