All this preparation is making me random.

• It is possible that our daughter’s room is, in actual fact, a TARDIS. Because it just seems there’s no end to the stuff I am taking out of it in preparation to clean and paint. (Doctor Who reference FTW! And for those of you who don’t know, a TARDIS is bigger on the inside than the outside.)
• Manufacturers of crib mobiles haven’t ever actually SEEN a crib, have they?
• Some people are still awaiting proof that my child has feet. Recent photographs show footies of her sleeper, but as one friend says, “Well, they could have put wooden legs in there. You don’t know.”
• We have re-instituted the concept of afternoon naps with my elderly cat, Opus. She will be spending every afternoon in her cage with a bowl of food. This will not only encourage her to eat (because she is old, and sometimes forgets, so she is losing weight), but will also keep her from wandering through the house yowling and shrieking and waking the baby.
• Babies are a great excuse for many things. I just cancelled my lawn service because of the expense of a baby. I told a pollster I was voting a certain party in our local byelection because of the baby. I can yell at telemarketers who call at whatever time because of the baby. Babies ROCK!
• Members of the Mystery Baby Welcoming Committee are soon breaking off into various sub-committees, including the Hanging in the Toy Bag from the Ceiling in the Corner Committee, the Sleeping Baby Comfort Committee, and the Sitting on Top of the Wardrobe Because We Have Bead Eyes Committee. I do hope they enjoy their new roles.

I am surprised just how much I am learning as I prepare for our daughter to join our family. I am surprised how little I actually know.

This morning I had some quiet busy time while I was getting the garbage ready to put out, and I was thinking about what’s in store for us. I realized it’s been something like 12 years since I have had to change a diaper. Is it like riding a bike: once you learn how, you never forget? I hope so. If diaper technology has changed in the last 10 years, I am screwed. (I think baby bum technology has remained pretty much the same, so at least I know that much.)

I had forgotten how many baby medications there are. I don’t recall ever knowing there were baby versions of Tylenol and Advil and Motrin and Gravol. I had forgotten the wonderful world of Anbesol! And there are so many homeopathic or natural meds out there now as well. I wonder how I will keep them all straight.

I wonder how I will ever know she needs them. I wonder how I will ever know what she needs.

And baby products in the grocery store are never-ending! I have no idea what half of these things are! I am embarrassed to admit, I am going disposable for much of this trip — bibs and washcloths and that sort of thing — because it’s convenient and laundry is not a really viable possibility while we are away. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have all that stuff! Good doG, I have tons. I’ve been buying it bit by bit all along, so we are well-stocked with washcloths and baby spoons and sippy cups. One thing I did when we started this process is buy one or two things each week when I was grocery shopping — a soother here, a pack of diapers there — so that the expense would not smack us in the face all at once. And also, it means we don’t have to run out and get a bunch of stuff while we’re stressing with packing before we go and/or cocooning with baby when we get back.

Did you know they have washable, reusable swim diapers out there? I didn’t. Did you know those things your friend/neighbour gave you with all the boxes of clothes were waterproof change pads? I sure as heck didn’t. Did you know Gatorade was basically the same as Pedialyte? I didn’t. Did you know you needed all these things? I didn’t.

I am learning a lot. I think I can basically get my kid fed, bathed, and to sleep. I can entertain her. I can keep her mostly comfortable and happy, on a normal day. But beyond that… I have a lot to learn.

It’s a good thing she’s so small. She won’t know that I haven’t got a clue. We can learn together.

And welcome to today’s installment of “You Asked For It!”*, the show in which we ask pressing adoption-related questions of the day. Today’s episode is about TRAVEL, and is brought to you by Frazzled Adoptive Moms, Inc.. You might know them from such shows as “You DON’T Just Magically Forget That The Wait Happened!” and “How Do People Afford To Do This More Than Once?”

Okay, Bob, let’s get to today’s questions:

1. Question #1 comes to us from Ms. Anne Thrope, from Upper Middle Lower Sackville, NS. Anne writes: “Why can NOBODY agree on the size of clothing for a 5 month old, 12 pound girl?”

Well, audience, THAT’s a good question, and one we’ve struggled with for a long time. You’d THINK that a 5 month old would still be able to fit into clothes sized — apparently — for children between 0 and 6 months of age. But this may NOT be the case. Some clothes say babies weighing between 7-12 pounds will fit into clothes sized up to 6 months of age. Others say babies between 12 and 17 pounds will fit into these clothes. One thing is for sure: THERE’S NO WAY TO KNOW.

And if all your baby clothes were given to you by friends, they are from all different manufacturers… that’s right, Adoptive Moms! You’re SCREWED! Our advice to you here at “You Asked For It!” is to go out and buy some clothes all made by the same manufacturer, with the appropriate weight-to-age ratio on them to fit your child. Expense be damned! Or, you can simply PACK ALL THE CLOTHES YOU OWN FOR CHILDREN BETWEEN 0 AND 12 MONTHS OF AGE.

So, no worries, Adoptive Moms! See how easy this can be?

2. Question #2 comes to us from General Connie Fusion, a military domestic science history professor out at Tuktoyaktuk University (motto: “Tuk U!!”), who asks: “How is one supposed to sterilize nipples in a hotel room in a 3rd world country? And why is it when you say the word ‘nipple’, your husband gets all giggly and/or lapses into daydreams?”

Another good question, listeners! Well, this question comes with a few options for the Intrepid Travelling Adoptive Mom.

Some would say, “bring along a small hotpot/hotplate/bottle sterilizer/microwave oven/portable camp stove”. You can set that up in your hotel room, and Bob’s your announcer, you’ve got all the nipples you can sterilize in short order! Hell’s bells, you could even roast a couple of goats if the fancy struck you (but don’t be surprised if you get a cleaning bill afterwards — it’s tough to get the smell of cumin out of the drapes).

Others would say, “Well, the little darling is FROM said country; surely you can just use tap water to wash the nipples, right?” Absolutely! Just be sure to bring along a TRUCKLOAD of diapers, rubber pants and wipes. What’s a little exploding bum action within the family, anyway?

Still others have a great method for sterilizing nipples… but they’re not telling. If they did, they’d have to kill you.

So, there you go, Adoptive Moms! The sterilized nipple is as easy as THAT!

And as for the “husbands and nipples” issue… well, boys will be boys. You think you got trouble now? Just wait ’til Dad and your little darlings gang up and play The Fart Game at the dinnertable.

Well, that’s all we have time for today, audience! Tune in again for more completely nonhelpful advice to unanswerable questions on “You Asked For It!”

*reference to Warner Brothers cartoon TOTALLY on purpose.

So, here we are, two weeks away from Operation Get-On-A-Plane-And-Fly-Halfway-Around-The-World-And-Then-Suddenly-We’re-Parents.

Shocked and frazzled is a good start, no? Isn’t that how all parents start out? We’re not wigging right out yet. Oh no. We’re saving that for about two days prior to leaving. THEN we’re going to go completely outer limits.

But right now, we’re trying to organize the chaos of 18 months of odds and ends, preparing in dribs and drabs, reading this and that, on the road to Familyhood — but never REALLY feeling like it was ever ACTUALLY going to happen.

And then WHAM! Familyhood jumps up and clubs you about the head and neck. You have to suddenly start thinking in baby increments — how many pounds does a size X sleeper fit? How many bottles in a day? How many outfits can a baby dirty in a day? When did they come up with 8 different kinds of nipples for baby bottles?

It’s like I am suddenly a Twilight Zone version of myself.

So there are things I am going to need consensus on. I ask you:

- How many baby washcloths does one need for a 10-day trip?
- Is it true Baby Einstein videos will hypnotize a baby long enough to, you know, brush your teeth or something?
- Where are the child’s PANTS?
- Am I a bad parent if I let my baby hang out in a diaper and an undershirt? You know, if we’re just chillin’ out, relaxing in da crib?
- Seriously. TWELVE onesies?
- 4 oz bottles or 8 oz bottles?
- One sleeper per night is enough, right?
- What’s the best way to amuse a 5-month-old?
- Where the hell did I put all the socks?

I am so not ready for this, clearly, if it’s going to take me 2 weeks to pack for a 5-month-old.

It’s like my life is suddenly a brand-new jigsaw puzzle, just dumped out of the box and on to the table. All the pieces are there, and I know they make a pretty picture, and I am sure it’s going to be fun… I just haven’t got a clue how they all fit together.

************

LATER THAT DAY…

Woot! We have achieved SOCKS! Socks of varying colours and sizes have been located, and await washing. So, sock crisis averted!

But we still need pants. And a couple more 0-6 month sleepers. And a pair of shoes. And THOSE I think we must go BUY.

Adoption Journey — Day 579

So, I expect people have been coming in here today to see the Friday Fun. But there is no Friday Fun today.

Just this morning, we got the call. One year, 7 months, and 1 day after we started this journey — our daughter’s visa came in. The paper chase is OVER! We are able to travel to Ethiopia and bring our daughter home.

We spent much of the day getting travel arrangements made. We will be leaving as soon as humanly possible, which will be in early September.

I cannot believe we’ve made it.

I cannot believe that we will soon have our daughter home with us.

I cannot stop alternately crying and giggling like a crazy person.

I cannot believe how nervous I am.

I cannot believe we will finally be parents.

I cannot stop smiling.

This certainly is up there on our list of Best Days Ever.

So, no Friday Fun today… but I am sure you’ll understand.

We got our travel visas for Ethiopia yesterday. With a turnaround time of two days — they got our request Monday, and it arrived here yesterday — the Embassy of Ethiopia returned our passports with travel visas included to us, and now we are officially able to travel to Ethiopia.

So, we officially have just one more document to obtain before we can become a family and bring our daughter home. Of course, we can’t go anywhere until the Canadian High Commission in Kenya gets that single document, our daughter’s visa, to us.

How they can take 8-12 weeks to do such a simple thing, I do not know. I am continually frustrated at the stupidity of some of the bureaucracy we encounter. And also, I am certainly more frustrated, not to mention angry, at the request we have received from our agency to refrain from exercising our right to ask our government representatives to advocate on our behalf. Apparently the number of calls and/or emails they are receiving at the High Commission is making it hard for the staff to get visas done.

Please. In 2006, there were 61 children adopted from Ethiopia by Canadians. So, let’s say that number has multiplied tenfold for this year, and there are 610 children. That means, if every single family called once for information on their single child’s visa, there would be about 2 calls per working day over the course of 2008. TWO. Okay, it’s actually closer to 2.5. (You know that not every family is contacting the office. And some are contacting more. And not all families are adopting singletons. So we’re talking about a rough average, here. And more often than not, they are emailing, but let’s for the sake of argument say they are all phone calls.) So, yeah — let’s say it’s 2.5 phone calls per day. Even if there were 1,000 children adopted, that would bring the number up to, what, 4? And the High Commission is saying that they cannot handle that kind of call volume?

To that I say: suck it up. Sweet merciful crap, people. If employees of my business get behind in our workload and my timelines are looking unreasonable, what do I do? I work overtime, or I hire more staff to meet the demands of my customers. It’s not rocket science. So, here’s a thought for my government’s employees: Work some overtime, or staff up to handle the demands. Because honestly? If the Embassy of Ethiopia here in Ottawa can turn a travel visa around for two well-travelled adults in two days, surely turning a visa around for a 4-month-old infant whose adoption is legal and final and has all paperwork correctly completed should NOT take 8-12 weeks at a Canadian office of similar function elsewhere. It’s ridiculous.

And, because these are Canadian employees, whose salaries are paid by my government and therefore ultimately by my tax dollars… I will definitely access my government and try to rectify the situation.

So I am sorry if this is not what our agency requests of us. But all along, we have done Every. Single. Thing. our agency has asked of us. Every. Last. Fricking. Thing. Without complaint, for the most part. And in this particular situation, when they are asking us to do something ON BEHALF OF THE HIGH COMMISSION, when they SHOULD be advocating on OUR behalf TO the High Commission… well, that’s not cool.

We have had no power, no say, and no control for close to two years in this process. We have an opportunity FINALLY to act on our own behalf. We are taking it.

There’s an avalanche of stuff in the baby’s room. We’re going to have to dig our way in to get everything ready for our daughter’s arrival.

It was clean, a few months ago. Well, clean-ish. We had hauled a lot of stored stuff out, in order to make room for baby furniture. There were still a few things in the closet, and some odds and ends to go yet. But we were able to move around in there.

Not anymore. Since then, it has filled up again, with boxes and bags and assorted other goodies for baby. Hampers of washed clothes need to be put away. Furniture needs to be arranged. Things need to be put up on walls. And there are still some oddball things, like a watering can and my sewing basket and a map of Japan and a picnic basket, that need to find storage elsewhere in the house.

We have a lot of work to do. And the problem? We’ll have to stop every five minutes and marvel over the novelty of having baby things, at how cute and small everything is.

Le sigh. We’re never getting through the clutter.

I expect we should get used to it. She’s going to be a teenager one day, after all. Only then the clothes and stuff will be bigger, and we can tell HER to clean her room.

Well — NOT surprisingly — our daughter’s visa did not arrive in the package of 4 visas coming in from Nairobi to our agency this week. If it had, I surely would have been shocked. It was a real long shot, but our case worker advised us to wait and see, just in case, before we started getting an MP on the case to rattle some cages in the High Commission to get our daughter’s visa processed in short order. So we added that task to the list of things to do.

We also learned that the earliest we can travel is the 2nd week of September, due to BDH’s work schedule. That was actually a really good thing to learn — despite BDH’s initial disappointment, since he’s getting really anxious to go get his baby girl (of course, I am too, but you know daddies and their little girls!) There’s something comforting not only in the time to prepare, but to have a solid date for a change. We have a date, and although it might be later than that that we end up travelling, we have something to shoot for.

So, we have some things to do.

As things get crossed off our list…

• Documents in Nairobi, at the High Commission? – CHECK!
• Found a rocking MP who is going to push the High Commission to get our documents going in a timely manner? – CHECK!
• Emailed said rocking MP’s office with all the relevant information? – CHECK!
• Washing baby clothes? – CHECK!
• Got a travel agent looking into flights and hotels? – CHECK!
• Washing baby bedding? – CHECK!
• Washing still MORE baby clothes? – CHECK!

I’ve got more baby stuff to wash — quelle surprise — as well as some organizing to do in her room. That’s going to take awhile. But it feels good to check things off the list.

Suddenly, we’re in a bit of a panic around here. Everything is all in a rush.

I can’t believe we’re getting down to WEEKS before we bring our beautiful baby girl, no longer a mystery, home to us.

We are woefully unprepared. The problem with all the accordion waits in the adoption process is that you never *really* feel engaged, so you do what has to be done at any given time to get through to the next stage. Homestudy home inspection tasks are done to pass your homestudy, but then the pressure eases off. Paperwork gets done as quick as you can, sent to where it has to go, and then you wait. There’s just no rush to get everything done because it’s such a long process, and there’s no one to inspire your activity until the very end.

Well, we are nearing the very end.

So it’s time to get cracking. I have baby linens to wash. I have to haul all the furniture out of my girl’s room so I can vacuum and shampoo the carpets, and wash and paint the walls. All the furniture has to be moved back INTO her room, put where we want to have it for when she is home. I have to get the kitchen organized with places to store her bottles and food and dishes. I have to get all her clothes put away, or stored, or whatever we are going to do with them.

All these things could have been done earlier, but we procrastinated. Not knowing who would be joining our family or when made it difficult to clean and organize when the dust would just gather again and many things would be moved in and out of the room as we stocked shelves and drawers.

There will be last-minute things, too. We have to buy some of the essentials of baby life, like a stroller and toys and an exersaucer, that we haven’t gotten yet. We also have to buy some “perishables”, like medicines and food and formula — stuff that is time-sensitive. And we have to prepare for our trip, so I’m going to have to start planning, cooking and freezing meals for the first few weeks we are back. And we’re going to need luggage. Duffel bags from our coaching days just aren’t going to work for a round-the-world trip.

All this on top of work that I have taken on, to earn a bit of money to help offset all the expense of adoption and preparing and travelling.

So, as you can imagine, things are suddenly getting a bit rushed around here. Not that I am complaining — it’s a good thing. It’s just a bit overwhelming, and a bit stressful. But these are times when you have to keep your eyes on the prize, and hopefully that will make light work of the weeks ahead.

I can’t believe we’ve gotten this far. I can’t believe we are this close.

BDH wants to go TOMORROW if possible. I am a little shellshocked at the list of things to be done. I’d prefer a couple of weeks to prepare. I like to be organized.

Somehow I doubt that will be the case. But I will do my best.

I’d make a list, but part of me thinks I can’t afford the time.

It was inevitable.

We recently received some updated pictures of our daughter. All that beautiful hair I marvelled over and cooed over and bragged about? Is GONE. It all fell out.

Now, I was a bald baby. Bald as a cue ball. Bald and looking like Winston Churchill until I was 2 years old. And my sisters were bald. And all my nieces were bald. So the novelty is one reason I was so delighted with a baby with a lot of hair!

I didn’t know it could all fall out. But apparently, it can. It happened to BDH when he was a baby: born with a ton of hair, and then it all fell out.

So I guess it’s another way she’s taking after her daddy.

Kelly blames the delays in paperwork. She said that our daughter’s hair fell out when they told her that there was going to be a delay in when we could go pick her up. She also said it might explain why she looks so shocked:

<Image removed. Sorry.>

She said I should send before and after pictures to our local government officials and tell them, because of these delays, MY BABY’S HAIR FEEL OUT FROM SHOCK!

And with the look on her face… I’d have to agree.

(I love the giant clothes. But, to paraphrase Bernard and the Genie, there’s more to my daughter than FANTASTIC PANTS!)

Sometimes I feel bad about complaining when I talk about our adoption experience.

I see other families waiting really, painfully long times for their referrals, longer than anyone should have to wait. I see people whose paperwork gets screwed up or delayed by forces beyond their control for absolutely no good reason. I see people dealing with health issues and adjustment issues and loss as they return home as a new family. And it makes me feel a little small when I start whining about our experience so far.

This week, we are hoping to get a call from our case worker saying our court documents have been received. The courts closed on Friday in Ethiopia for something like a month, and so if the documents got pushed out by then, we could stand to gain 6 weeks in our wait time to travel. That would be huge for us. Although, I don’t honestly expect we will have that kind of luck. That would go against the trend of doubling estimated timelines that we have experienced all along. And it upsets us to think about lost time with our daughter — our daughter, legally and officially, lying in her crib somewhere in Addis when we should be caring for her — but we are resigning ourselves to the fact that there’s nothing we can do.

I think for a moment that it’s really silly to complain, in light of what others experience.

But then, if there is one thing I have learned in adoption so far, it’s that no two families have the same experience. So it’s actually unfair to compare.

Families come to adoption from so many different places. People adopt for different reasons. They adopt from different places. They have different backgrounds and motivations and dreams. Some people are becoming parents for the first time. Others are looking to grow their families. Some are on their second families. Some have endured years of infertility. Some love the idea of a big family. But whatever their reasons, they all come to the table on that first day and make the commitment to adopt from vastly different places.

And so, to say one family is more justified in their complaints, or one family has it easier or harder than another, is really quite unfair.

The waiting, the hassles, the disappointments and challenges — they are all unique to each and every person involved with adoption. Everyone has different expectations. Everybody has different thresholds of disappointment or tolerance or patience in the process. Everybody has different needs and hopes and dreams. So in that respect, whatever their experience, everyone is well within their rights to complain.

There will be lots of time for rejoicing, I know. So for everyone, there will also be time to be upset. That’s how it works.

The experience of adoption can sometimes feel very isolating. So I have to remind myself, no matter what my personal experience may be, that each and every person’s experience is unique and they are riding it out as best they can. Nobody ever says it is easy. Be it 20 weeks or 20 months, it is exhausting and frustrating and challenging for everyone.  So I have to remind myself to put myself in the other person’s shoes, be sympathetic to how they are struggling to get through their particular challenge, and be as supportive as I can.

And I have to cut myself slack as well. I have to let myself be disappointed and angry and frustrated, too.

The good times will come. But you have to pass some bad times along the way. That’s how it works. For everyone. And that is okay.