The Roller Coaster Ride

The end of January is approaching and still, no court date.  Our court review date was yesterday, January 25^th and typically a travel date is issued within a week or so of that milestone.  For us, though, once again, things are delayed.  Two issues are standing in our way of travel: first, our agency is in the process of renewing their agency license to place children in Ethiopia.  The license expired in December and there was a backlog of agencies in line to renew.  While there is a two month grace period, they have no way of knowing when their license will be reissued.  Without a license, the Ministry of Women’s Affairs in Ethiopia will not write a letter of recommendation for us to move forward with our adoption case and without that letter, court dates will not be issued.  According to our agency, an inspection has been done and families who had previously adopted through them were interviewed, so it seems all procedures have been completed in order to renew the license – it’s just a matter of actually doing so.  And while this could conceivably happen any day, the other factor standing in our way of receiving a court date is that the Ethiopian courts have just announced they will be closing from February 5-22 to catch up on cases in progress so no new dates will be issued during that time.

And so, once again, we wait with no clear answers and no ability to estimate timing.  Over the course of the last two and a half years, we have done our best to understand that we are dealing with a third world country and this process is bound to hit walls and take unexpected detours.  But our frustration is mounting and there is nothing we can do about the circumstances.  So after stewing about the elongated timeline and pining for the day when we will finally meet our son, we turn control of the situation to a higher power and have faith that there is a reason for the painstaking amount of time this whole process is taking.

I do know that one day, in the not-to-distant future, we will have Kaleb home with us and all the heartache we currently feel will be a vague memory I can only compare to giving birth.  It is absolutely torturous at the time – an event one would never conceive of reliving.  And then the baby is born and the pain is forgotten and many of us go back for more.  

A friend of mine who I have never met, but commiserate with via email regularly about our Ethiopian adoption processes, painted the perfect analogy of all the waiting and unknowns.  Remember when you were a kid and went to an amusement park and all the popular rides had long, long lines of people winding around roped off aisles anxiously awaiting the adrenaline rush that was just minutes ahead?  You would think you were just about at the end of the line and then, unfailingly, you’d enter a room of a dozen more roped off aisles and there would be another lengthy wait ahead.  Then, the ride would break down and there would be a delay while the engineer team had to come repair it.  But finally, you’d get on the ride and speed along the tracks and in and out of loops, your hands in the air, fearless, despite the risky venture on which you have embarked.  And then, when the ride comes to a halt and the next rider takes your seat and asks, “was it worth it?” you nod vigorously and assure him, “absolutely.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”