Ethiopia Day Four, Part Two

sIMG_5858When we first began this adoption process, over a year ago, I was terrified of a potential birth family meeting. Within the first few weeks of our adoption application, we ran into two different families who had adopted from Ethiopia. They both encouraged us to pursue a birth family visit. I have to admit that the very idea of meeting my future child’s birth family made me sick to my stomach. Lucky for me, so I thought, our adoption agency was new to Ethiopia and unable, at that time, to arrange birth family visits. After I was quite reassured on that point, I put the issue aside to focus on all of our adoption paperwork.

At that time, I was operating under my usual scarcity philosophy. It’s a habit I often fall into without realizing it. I believed that if I acknowledged the role of a birth mother/birth family in the life of our son then I would be lessening my own role and importance in his life. I didn’t want to share motherhood with someone else; I wanted it all to myself.

But as we continued our adoption journey, as I read more, prayed more, and planned more, I couldn’t set aside the nagging whisper in my heart. Orphaned babies do not appear out of thin air, there is always a background, always a person or a family, always an undesirable circumstance, and always, always pain.

I kept imagining what I would do if I couldn’t feed or provide for Caleb. What would that feel like? What would it mean for me to purposefully choose to let another family be his family, to ask another woman to be his mom? The thought kept me up at night. Soon I was praying not only for our future son, but for his birth family, specifically his birth mother. And, without me realizing it, over the next several months God completely changed my heart.

Last spring, several weeks after we received our referral for our sweet little boy, we got word from our agency that birth family visits were now available. If we chose, we could travel the five hours south of Addis with our agency staff and visit Josiah’s birth place and his birth mother. We immediately said yes, absolutely, unequivocally yes, yes, yes. But there was still the chance that she would choose not to meet us.

The whole way out of Addis, I kept thinking about her. She had made that same trip two months earlier to appear before a judge for our adoption court date. It’s a long way there, and a long way back. What was she thinking as she traveled this road?

As we neared the village, I grew more anxious. What if she didn’t like us? What if we didn’t like her? And worse yet, what if she didn’t come?

When we arrived at the agency offices, we were assured that all of the birth families had come. We unloaded with the rest of our group, quiet and nervous. As we entered the dimly lit room, still no electricity, there was a group of Ethiopian women, and one man, huddled in a corner. They whispered quietly to each other, as they looked each of us over.

One of the social workers stood in the center of the group and explained to us in English that, as there were only three translators, we would have to take turns visiting with our birth families. He would call us out one family at a time, and we would meet in adjoining rooms for our visit. To our surprise, he called us first, “Marefu, Marefu’s family come with me.” We stood up and followed him out into a small office. As we took our seats, we heard him gently coaxing someone in the hallway. Seconds later, a young woman slowly stepped into the room.

She was so beautiful, so shy, so quiet. I’m sure she felt extremely anxious about meeting us. We were overwhelmed. We smiled, stood, mumbled some uninteligible English, and welcomed her to her seat. The translator came in and sat next to her. He was ready to get things started; I was at a complete loss. How does one begin a conversation like this? So I started with pictures. We had brought a small photo album for her with pictures of our family and our home; at the last minute I had included the most recent picture we had been sent of Josiah. When she opened the album, his picture was first. She smiled and kissed it, and my heart cracked a little.

I couldn’t help but think of how much I missed Caleb, though we had only left him a week before and would be home with him again in another week, and we had talked almost every day we had been gone. How much pain was she holding in her young heart?

And so we talked. We asked questions; she asked questions. It was difficult to really communicate through a translator, but we did the best we could. After we were finished talking, she gave us a bundle of tall grass. The translator told us that in their region the grass passed from one person to another was a symbol of a covenant. We had made a covenant to care for this child; we were so honored.

We walked back into the main room to allow other families their turn with the translator. The staff had provided the traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony: strong coffee and popcorn. We sat close together, unable to talk. Casey got out our digital camera to show her the pictures we had taken of Marefu. She looked at them so carefully, so thoughtfully.

I felt so connected to her; I wanted to tell her so much more, to really talk with her. I knew that our time with her was slipping away. I felt so helpless, so I offered her my hand. We sat, holding hands while we waited for the other visits to conclude. After everyone was finished we went outside to take some pictures.

As we gathered in a large group, adoptive families and birth families, the social worker announced that one of the birth mothers was going to pray for us, the adoptive families. So we moved closer together and bowed our heads. I reached for her hand again as another birth mother prayed. As I listened to that prayer, in her native language, of which I understood not one syllable, I was completely overwhelmed. My heart broke in awe of my merciful God, our merciful God. The One who understands every word, in every language. The One who knows us both, Marefu’s birth mother and me, inside and out, who knew about our little boy and planned every detail of his life before the foundations of the earth. The One who has seen every tear we have shed on his behalf; the One who turns sorrow into joy, who, I pray, will turn her sorrow into joy. I sobbed, nearly uncontrollably.

After the birth mother’s prayer, Casey prayed, lifting up these precious birth families to our Father who has adopted each and everyone of us into His family.

And then it was time to say goodbye. We hugged and cried more, and finally we loaded back up in our vans with the other adoptive families. She walked to the door and held Casey’s hand through the window until we pulled away.

A day, I would almost say an hour, has not gone by since then that I have not thought of her, this woman who has given me her only son. I think of her constantly and pray that God will heal her pain and sorrow and bless her with joy and happiness in abundance. I pray that I will see her and hold her hand and hug her again. But she is always with me; I see her everyday in my son’s eyes.

I cannot wait until we are reunited forever in heaven, and I can tell her, with no translator, how grateful I am. And we will laugh and cry and talk, as only mothers can. And we will share every detail of Josiah’s life together, and “ooh” and “aah” over his first step, his first word, his first love . . .

I am so humbled right now by my amazing God. I have to praise Him for not letting my selfish, stubborn heart get in the way of having this wonderful meeting. As we went to bed that night, Casey and I kept saying to each other, “What if we had missed this?”

And what will we tell Josiah? What will we tell our precious little “God has saved; God has healed”? In his journal that night, I began with, “You were born in the most beautiful place on earth . . .” I cannot wait to see his life unfold, to see all that God has planned for our little one.

  • Cori Bradley

    Wow! I cried just about the whole time reading this. What a wonderful experience you got to have. Praise God for that!

  • Bethany Hutchison

    Thank you for posting this, I cried reading it and hope to experience this when we travel.

  • momma

    I sobbed clear through this. Love like you’ve described is clearly from God. I ache for this young woman I’ve never met and wish I could hold her. I wish I could bring her into our home and give her the kind of love Josiah is receiving! I know meeting her was a hard step to take and I’m so proud of you. It would have been so easy to leave her an unknown in the distant fog. You chose courageously!

  • Meredith

    I too cried when I read this as I thought of your precious little guy (who I can still see smiling that huge smile up at me from his crib in the care center) and also as the memories of our experience in Durame came flooding back. We are so blessed! Thank you for sharing this beautiful post!

  • Mema

    I am so touched by your wonderful words, describing this meeting. I, like your mother, would like to take her in my arms and hold her and bring her here to give her love and a better life. Josiah is so fortunate to have a loving mother to give him a chance at a better life and so blessed to have a loving family to be a part of, and one that will love him and raise him to love God. God has blessed him as well as your family.

    Mary Beth and Casey what a wonderful experience God has give you, I know you will never forget a moment of it. I know Josiah’s mother must feel better, just meeting the two of you.

  • Michelle

    Well, I cried too. Your mom’s right – you did something very courageous. Your pictures reminded me alot of Kenya and Uganda. It’s so beautiful that a picture can’t even do it justice. So glad you got to make that trip.

  • Sarah D

    That brought tears to my eyes. What an experience that must have been.

  • Grandma Syble and Grandpa Picker

    Mary Beth and Casey,

    God has so many wonderful plans for your family. We know He smiles on you and the love you have for your boys. May He always help you lead them to the Father.

  • Abby

    What an amazing experience and incredible gift to both you and Josiah to be able to meet his birth mother. You did a wonderful job expressing the moment through your words. I’m still wiping away tears. Thank you for sharing it with us all.

  • kathryn

    MB- I am so so glad that you guys got to have that experience. It was life changing for us too. J and I were talking the other day about how we still haven’t really gone through the video we have our our visit with Adu’s first family. It is an experience that I continually process. Congrats on your arrival home and the addition of Josiah Marefu to your family.

  • emily

    ok, so we’re all crying. :) thank you for sharing this journey with us all. i don’t get much time to comment these days, but i love keeping up with your family. i know you are loving these days as a family of four. praise be to God!

  • Dyana Coney

    Wow…with all the wedding things going on, this is the first chance I’ve gotten to read your blog. It is both heart wrenching and wonderful. What a mighty God we serve! I’m understanding your heart for this country and these children more with each word. You seriously need to write a book about it!