I got an email this week that had new pictures of my children. My coordinator was in Ethiopia helping AGCI open a child care center. For the first time ever, I will be able to talk with someone who has met my children. As I type that it seems odd. No one meets their children before they are born, so why would someone be able to meet my children? That's the interesting thing about adoption. My children are alive and living elsewhere.
I have so many questions. What are they like? How's their sense of humor? Are they happy about their future in our family? What do they think about coming to America? Are they scared?
I received 12 pictures. We have poured over them. My favorite has Hana with her arm around Biruk's neck, her cheek pressed tightly against his. It looks like she never wants to let go. In another, both children flash megawat smiles. (I am pretty sure they don't need braces!!) We also think Biruk has a birthmark on his neck. In an other one, the children are standing next to each other. At first glance, Biruk looks like "fine, I'll stand next to her for one more." But if you look closely, you will see that Biruk has the palm of his hand pressed against Hana's. Like he wants to hold it but doesn't want anyone to know. You see, Hana has been at Hannah's Hope for about 6 months without Biruk. It was only after a family (us) was found for the children that Biruk was able to move to Hannah's Hope. She has been alone. While we have known since August that we were going to be thier family, the children only found out about 3 weeks ago. At that time, Biruk came over to Hannah's Hope.
What must it be like to know and understand that someone who has never met you, wants to be your mom and dad? Not only that, but they live in a far off country and speak a different language. I can't wrap my mind around it.
I wish I could post some of these pictures here, but until we have passed court, we can't. If you run into me however, just like any proud mama, I have loads of pictures to show you.
Hold on, they are right here in my purse...