Trying To Find A Voice

I know it might stump some of you out there, but I just don't have a ton to say about life....yet. I think everything is ruminating. We spent 5 weeks in Uganda- a developing country- with shady power, shady deals with higher ups, and lots of poverty. Oh, and we have two new children. So while it seems that I should have stories for hours of entertainment, my thoughts just haven't congealed yet.
Here are two things though that have struck me....one funny, one serious.
Funny first: Well, maybe it's not funny, but it's not serious. I have always been a champion sleeper. I have slept more than a third of my life. I love sleep. I'm secretly hoping sleep is a part of heaven...daily sleep. The trip to Uganda was no different. We left for Africa at 10am which meant that we were up pretty early. Our first leg was to Atlanta. Jonathan's idea of plane rides to pick up two orphans half way around the world is to pass the time with cool movies he rented on his iPhone. He even bought a splitter for our headphones so we could both listen to the movie. It didn't mesh with my idea of starting this shockingly spiritual journey off right, but I didn't want to be a nay-sayer so I complied...yes, another shocker.
The movie ended not long before touch down but my eyes had been drooping for a good 2 hours. And yes, that means they were drooping most of the way through the movie. Anyway, our flight from Atlanta took off about 5pm and flew to Amsterdam. It was an 8 or 9 hour flight "through the night." I like a good 10 hours of sleep so I knew I had to get sleeping once we were in the air. Jonathan was a bit bummed when he asked what movie I wanted to watch and I kindly excused myself. I had my ear plugs, socks, neck pillow, and eye mask. I was out within 20 minutes of reaching cruising altitude. And I slept until breakfast was served on the plane 1 hour before we landed. Our layover in Amsterdam was 3 or 4 hours. Our flight to Kampala was an 8 hour flight as well. And it was a repeat of the previous flight. I slept like a baby. And we hit the ground running in Uganda. The time difference didn't really effect us. And there were many nights I got my prescribed 10 hours while there. (And there were nights we were up with Ki while he was coughing up a lung.) Let me backtrack a second. I'm the type of person that wears my sin on my sleeve. It takes a newby about 7 minutes to figure out what I struggle with in life and that I've got a long way to go. I am the opposite of my sweet husband who can appear to the untrained eye to be perfect. But the bummer is that we both struggle with pride. Aaaand back to my story. More than once we thought, "Who are these loser that 'struggle' with jet lag. They are weakies." Well, we had the longest day in our history November 29. We left Uganda for the US thirty minutes before November 29 started and landed in ABQ 30 hours later at 7:45pm Thursday, November 29. We traveled with two babies that slept off and on which meant mommy's sleep wasn't the most important anymore. By the time we got home and let our new kids play with our old kids, it was 11pm. T.I.R.E.D. I had been up a good 48 hours. I was the first one to say that I HAD to go to bed. I just knew that I was going to sleep like a rock and open my eyes at the crack of 8 or 9am. Nope. O One hundred hours. 1am. And there was NOTHING I could do to fall back asleep. NOTHING. Jonathan and I hadn't seen 1am together so many times since we were dating. This satanic thing called jet lag lasted over a week for us. On day 10 we had the bright idea of take sleeping pills even though we could barely keep our eyes open at 8pm. It worked. Praise the Lord. AND we will never again have prideful thoughts about jet lag talk. It is real people.
And since I was a bit wordy on the "funny" topic, I'm only going to mention the second one and will give you more to chew on in my next post.
I don't think I will ever purchase a Starbucks Peppermint Mocha with the same ushy-gushy feelings again. Pauline (Elsie and Ki's biological mother) does back-breaking garden tending work for $4...a week. Not an hour. Not a day. But a week. That, my friends, is the same amount as a Caramel Macchiato.

How to Greet the Grassmick's?

Guest Post by Kerri Couillard

If you are planning to attend the Airport Welcome Home Party this Thursday night at the Albuquerque Sunport, you might be wondering what the Grassmicks' wishes are for when they all stumble into our hands.

When you first see them, they would like for their kids that have been here in New Mexico to greet them and have a little mini-family reunion apart from everyone else.  This make take a few minutes or more.  Then their Grandparents will join them and they plan to walk and join their friends.  As you would imagine, they would like to look into each one of their children's eyes and hug them etc. without a big distraction.  This isn't because they don't love you - they do and they do want you there.  Also, don't expect to hold the babies and I know this will be hard.  In time, as they adjust, we will all be able to squeeze them then.

If you haven't been personally invited, I would like to take the opportunity to do so.  Not only is this Airport Welcome Home Party going to support the parents, the children, their grandparents, but it will be recorded for Elsie and Ki for when they grow up.  They can see what lovingly open arms and hearts we all have for them and adoption in general.

If you would like more information and be notified of any delays, please email jasonkerri@gmail.com or call 505-231-8370. Texts are ok too.

We have made many beautiful signs and tshirts to share.  Just come and celebrate the way God Moved Mountains.

We Have An Exit Plan

Each day last week we were told our passports would be ready. So on Friday when we headed to town, my expectations were not high. I was just going to try to enjoy the change of pace of being in town. Joy, Rashid’s wife, drove us and the other family to the passport office. She went in, and us Muzungus waited outside. We were parked under a tree and there was a dirt/grassy area under the trees as well. We strolled and sat and ate.

One of the trickiest parts of this whole deal is that the US Embassy only does certain things on certain days for certain amounts of time. Monday, Wednesday, Friday from 8am to 11:30am, they accept visa paperwork. If you are not signed in by 11:30 then they ask you to come back. The passport guy told us 9:30am, which gave us some fudge room. Rashid had told us that if Joy walked out anytime after 11:00am that we should jump on a boda boda and get to the Embassy. Anytime before 11:00am and Joy would have time to drive us there.

Now a boda boda is a guy on a motorcycle that you pay to get you somewhere quickly. There are thousands of boda bodas sitting around Kampala waiting for someone to hop on. And there are thousands of them weaving in and out of traffic on the road. I LOVED this idea. Jonathan, not so much.

Around 11:00am I was getting antsy and so I decided to do a little prayer-walk. Ki was sleeping on my back so I could here myself think and cry out to God. I wasn’t mad that we didn’t have our passports yet because the peace He had given me at the beginning of the week was lingering. But I was just ready. So I was asking for passports AND peace if we didn’t get them. (I’m learning that peace is way more important than our way in this process.)

As I was nearing the entrance of the passport building I saw Joy round the corner. It was almost ten after eleven. There was a crowd between us so I had time to brace myself for whatever answer she was going to dish out. When we made eye contact, she shook her head no. Sigh. Okay. God is bigger. I can handle this. But I was wondering what the passport guy’s excuse was this time. Last Wednesday and Thursday it was a funeral. Tuesday it was Parliament. Wednesday and Thursday he was in jail. (Yes, you read that correctly.) I was wondering what it would be today. When she caught up to me, I turned around and asked, “Why not?” She was slow to answer but she asked me why I asked. This threw me off a little. I answered with “I don’t know.” But then she asked if Jonathan would get on a boda boda. (She knew his aversion.) I was confused and asked why. “To get to the Embassy!” she said. “Oh, YOU GOT THEM!!!! WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING? DO YOU HAVE THEM OR NOT???” was my reply.

Come to find out she was shaking her head because she thought it was too late because Jonathan wouldn’t get on a boda boda and with the traffic at a stand still, she knew we wouldn’t make it on time. And she also told us later that one of the passports had been printed wrong and so it had to be re-printed and signed again. And Joy was in the office praying, “Your will be done, Your will be done...” over and over. We were all praying that morning.

Okay, so I start jogging to the car to tell the other family to get ready and to tell Jonathan to get the backpack with the paperwork in it. In a moment of clarity, I asked Joy if she could take the kids in the car so we didn’t have to ride with them and she agreed. (Don’t judge that I would have ridden on a boda boda with my babies. You have not seen what I have seen here. I have seen two and three children sandwiched between the driver and another adult. I have seen a kid by himself holding on for dear life to the driver with his head buried in the driver’s back.) So, Joy waved down 4 boda bodas. We practically tossed our kids in the car and jumped on. I told my driver that this was my first time and not to kill me! It was the ride of my life. I LOVED it. There is something about wind in my hair that makes me happy. I now understand why so many people don’t want to hear helmets.

So, we left the passport office at 11:09 and reached the Embassy which was half way across the capital city of Uganda, paid our drivers, checked our bag (you can’t take food, water, electronics, CHAPSTICK, anything but papers into the Embassy), went through security, jogged to the office, and were signing by 11:23am. ROCKIN AWESOME.

We could breathe. We made it. And we had our kids’ passports. Happy Day. We were in there for about 2 hours because there were other adopting families there to drop off paperwork and several families picking up their visas. When we were called in, we went through our paperwork with the lady and schedule our interview. The Embassy only conducts interviews on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. And next week was all booked up. So 2pm Monday, November 26 it is. That gives us time next week to go on Safari and do a little shopping before we have to get back down to business. I was hoping to fly home on Thanksgiving Day, but I’m just going to trust that God has got this still.

So, interview on Monday the 26^th, which means we should be able to pick up our visas on Wednesday at the latest. They need 24 to 48 hours to print them. We are scheduled to hop on a plane that Wednesday night at 11:30pm. That puts us back in Albuquerque around 7:45 Thursday night.

The Wednesday flight makes me a little nervous just because it leaves us very little time for error but there is not flight with KLM on Thursday and the flights on Friday and Saturday are $3000 more A PIECE. Yowzers. And we don’t want to wait longer than that!!! And Jonathan has to get back to work. He gets two weeks of vacation pay a year so we will be 3 weeks in the hole when we get back. (So thankful that his boss was gracious enough to give him the time off to come.) Oh, and did I mention that I CAN’T WAIT to see my sweet New Mexico four!!!

So, pray with us that everything goes well on Monday the 26^th and that our visas are printed quickly.

Once we check that off, you can start begging the Lord with us that our two babies that have constant sinus issues and have never seen a plane full of people (or empty for that matter) and have never used a seat belt will be first-time plane Rock Stars.

Hodge Podge

We are TB free! Both kids passed the medical exams and the files are being sent to the Embassy this afternoon. I’m not sure what their health standards are, but Ki is funky lately. He couldn’t sleep last night because his nose was full and overflowing, which, for a thumb sucker is deadly. Now today he has a frequent cough. We are hoping and praying that we can get these worked out before the plane ride home. We bought more meds today and they seem to be working.

And things seem to be moving well, so for all of you out there praying for 3 weeks, keep it up! Our court ruling is tomorrow. Then we work on passports and then we apply for visas at the Embassy. The one thing that I can think of that might hold the visas up is our financial stuff. Since we work on a ranch and have to live on site, our housing and utilities are part of our compensation package. This in turn makes our salary look small. We have to prove (with tax information) that we make enough money to support our family. Pray that the documentation that describes our compensation package will be enough for the Embassy.

The night we got here Rashid told us that Ki is a miracle baby. He said when he was brought to the orphanage, he was near death. He was almost a year old and couldn’t hold his head up. Rashid said it would have only been a matter of time before he died. Now, after 4 months here, Ki is sitting up and ooching around well. I can’t call it a crawl, but he can move. He likes standing with help now too. Another interesting fact about Ki is that he is an ambidextrous thumb sucker. Shocking. None of my thumb suckers have been able to switch.

We are going to try to go on a safari. I hope we can fit it in somehow. But we also want to get home. We can’t wait to introduce these little ones to our other kids and our family and friends.

The wedding we went to on Saturday would have been super neat if the orphanage workers weren’t there. It was just another sad day for Elsie, but she bounced back pretty quickly. I think we have decided that Jonathan will go to the orphanage without Elsie and me. Then, maybe we can switch. It is hard to balance being here for our children and doing what is best for them and blessing the people and other children here. But I do have a peace about putting Elsie first. Her heart is tender and fragile and we have been given a short time to tend it and we need to make the most of the time we have.

We are sitting outside the medical building right now waiting for another couple to finish up and Jonathan has music playing on his phone. And ELSIE HAS GOT SOUL. Something the Grassmick family severely lacks...until now, that is.

We found out that Ki’s last name is some ancient Ugandan God, and we were going to use those as their new middle names, so we are thinking about changing them. Rashid is trying to figure out what Kafuko means, which is Elsie’s last name. We might just use that for both of them. Here in Uganda you get your last name by what tribe you are from, but each tribe has a hat full of names they can choose from so most of the time, siblings don’t have the same last name.

I think we are out of survival mode now. We are starting to think about what it will be like and what we will do once we get home.

I don’t think we could be on this journey without all of you and your support. Thank you for your part in this amazing story that is unfolding. 

Court From My Eyes

Thanks Jonathan for writing the first post about our first court date. I loved reading the different perspective. I thought that I’d explain the journey from my eyes.

 I never really got nervous about court. I think I just kept going back to: If God has brought us this far; He isn’t going to leave us hanging. So, the day started off like a beautiful normal day in the hillside of Uganda. J We did have to rush around a bit to get ready to leave, because as most of you know, we are not early risers, nor people that leave enough time to get things done. We woke up and got dressed then headed up for breakfast. Jonathan was feeding the kids and a little frustrated that I told him to put on his clothes for the day. Ki is NOT a clean eater and he LOVES to feel his food.....after he has chewed it. J (Jonathan is successfully breaking him of this habit slowly, but surely.) When I walked up stairs, I noticed the modem was back and the power was on and wanted to send the post I had written the night before so you folks back home could pray specifics. So, I came back to our room and grabbed my laptop. But, by the time I had gotten to the table with my food, someone came from the director’s house and took it back. Bummer, I thought, but oh well. So, back down stairs to put my laptop away. As I was walking back up, I heard the horn honk, so I grabbed my pancake and a napkin and we were off.

I had been thinking that is was a little overkill to get here 3 days before our court date but gosh, I’m really glad we had that time to get to know Elsie. We keep saying she is a tough nut to crack. But, by Tuesday morning, she was pretty comfortable with me and not freaking out when sitting next to Taata (which means Daddy in Luganda). We ran a few errands and carrying around a toddler and a backpack proved to be a little sweaty. I kept yelling to Rashid, reminding him of my short legs. He would look back and give a sly smile and chuckle. But, he was slow down to a normal speed for a least a minute or so.

I felt safe while we were out. Jonathan and I were laughing and having fun together. Rashid left us alone at a Mazungu café for a couple of hours, which felt normal, which was nice.

Before he walked away, he told us that he was going to find the birth mom and feed her lunch. She left super early and had a hard journey and hadn’t eaten. He said she felt weak and her heart was pounding. Gosh, what an ordeal for her. She didn’t want any of this. And she hates it all while in the middle of it. But she gets what so many of us don’t....it isn’t about her. She isn’t doing this because it will make her life better. Her life sucks. Her husband most likely fooled around with someone that was HIV positive and once he found out he was infected, he had to tell his wife what he had done. I’m sure that night was hell for her. Oh, and she was pregnant so now she has to worry about the health of her unborn child on top of worrying about how long will she will be able to raise her other children. Thanks, Frank. So, then he dies at or near their home of Malaria. And even when someone you love has wronged you, you hurt when something like this happens. Another terrible day for Pauline. So, she gets on with her life and six months after burying her husband, she gives birth to his last child. But she knows she is HIV positive so she can’t nurse him. And no one is working to provide for her so she can’t feed him. So, the nightmare continues. And after a year she realizes, as her health is fading, that she just can’t do it. She can’t feed them. And even to take care of them is getting tough. She doesn’t want the older kids to miss out on an education because of her story. So, she decides it isn’t about her and what she wants and how she feels. It is about what is best for her children; her older children and her younger children. And so she lets them go. But it isn’t that easy. She isn’t getting rid of them because they are a burden, or she would have just left them by the village trash or just let them wither away. She cares deeply for them and wants for them what she didn’t have and to do that, she has to deny herself. Rashid told me when Pauline gave the kids to him, Elsie cried for days. Pauline knew how precious her daughter was and how much this was going to hurt Elsie, but she did it anyway. Then, she had to come to Kampala to terminate her rights as their parent; a long, hard journey. And this day, she is back again. Tired, broken, hungry, and hurting.

I could see all this in a nano-second when she walked in the waiting room door. Her eyes told me the whole story. She wanted to look at the babies, and wanted to be strong enough NOT to look at the babies. I could see the battle going on inside of her. And it was taking its toll on her fragile soul. I had prepared NO words for this moment. I just motioned to ask if I could hug her. I wanted to take some of her pain. I wanted her to know that she is loved by a family of New Mexicans and that while we can’t make everything okay, we would love these two little people as our own. We hugged and she cried for just a bit and then my focus shifted. It is hard to love two sides of the same coin at the same time. By love, I don’t mean the feeling kind of love. I mean the Jesus kind of love, the kind of love that does and acts and wipes tears away. I wanted to sit with her and hear her story and cry with her. But I couldn’t. I had a broken, whimpering gift in my arms. And if I was to love her the best, I had to walk away.

I sat back in my chair and Elsie’s whimpering escalated to crying. She was trying to look behind us and confirm what she had seen just a few minutes before. I shimmied my shoulders and shifted in my chair. I shushed her and sang to her but her heart was broken. And I knew that Pauline could hear and see it all. Two sides of the coin, both broken. I was in between...praying. It was all I had to offer. As she got louder, she started pushing me away and wouldn’t look into my eyes. I don’t think I will ever understand her pain, but I feel like God gave me a glimpse. I wanted to take it all away. And I knew that in my power I couldn’t. So, I asked the only one powerful enough to come in.

Lord, Elsie is hurting and there is nothing I can do to stop it. She needs You, Holy Spirit, to come and comfort her. I want You to wipe her heart clean and love on her. Be near to Elsie Lord.

I decided to walk out and wander the hallways. We went potty in a not so wonderful bathroom. (It was America-bad, not Uganda-bad. There was a toilet and a place for toilet paper and a sink and mirror.) After she went, I stood her up on the counter and showed Elsie her reflection. She smiled. She was wearing a beautiful dress and a little crocheted sweater and a pink sparkly headband. We played. I showed her how to stick her tongue out and for a moment she forgot her pain. We found a little nook in the hall and I held her and rocked her. She sucked her thumb and went from blank to sad and back to blank a couple of times.

I was so connected to her and how to help her that I was shocked when we got called in. So soon? I hadn’t dwelled on it yet. I thought we would have more time. But the moment had arrived. Pauline sat catty-corner behind us and so Jonathan blocked Elsie’s sight of her birth mom as long as I held her the right way. Most of court was a blur. I wasn’t fully present in court. I was fully present in Elsie’s world. I was keenly aware that I might miss something important but knew Elsie’s heart was my mission. Pauline was called up to talk with the judge. I turned Elsie to face backwards. She kept me on my toes. Pauline spoke very softly, which I was really thankful for. I don’t know what I would have done if her voice was like mine. J Even thought I don’t think I had the presence of mind to pray for her, I know I was hoping that the judge wasn’t being mean. After Pauline, it was my turn. I had to hold Elsie with her back to her birth mom. The judge took his time with stories and questions. He would pause for a good 30 seconds after his story before he asked his question. I just kept my gaze on him and waited. While answering I continued to remember the advice to be short and to the point. He is a man, he is okay with man-sized answers. So, even when I wanted to keep going, I would stop. I remember once even saying out loud, “I’m going to stop there.” It made me feel better somehow to let everyone know I could keep going. Some of his questions were fair and some not so fair, but I shot straight and kept his eyes. My arm, by the end of my turn was ON FIRE. J The lawyer mentioned that we had purchased the certificate from the King’s Palace and the picture of the King, but we forgot it in the car. He said, “That is very unfortunate.” Awesome. But you know, I think even that was from God. While we were buying those things earlier in the day I was thinking that I didn’t want to show off for the judge. My God is our King and He is doing this work. I wanted to be relying on Him, not papers. The judge’s next question was to ask if Jonathan would be leaving soon and letting me finish up by myself here in Uganda. Jonathan responded with such grace and confidence. “No sir, I am staying until the end. This is important to me.” Judge Moses looked up from his writing and grabbed the calendar.

(A little back ground: Of the families that have gone through this judge from this orphanage, they have had to wait between 10 days and 3 weeks for a ruling, I’ve heard. And if you would have seen the post I wrote, but never got to send, you would know that I wanted God to move mountains....again. In my post the night before I asked for you guys to pray for one week. And that is what we got. When he said Tuesday, November 6, I really wasn’t expecting him to be telling us that yet. We had only been in court for 45 minutes. The family that did this before us, spent 2 hours and 45 minutes in the court room. Jonathan hadn’t gone up yet. I was focused on Elsie. She was singing louder than she ever had before. (It was still what we call a whisper-sing, but it was louder.) So, I was confused and when it registered I thought, “Did he say the 16^th or 6^th?” Jonathan confirmed mountains were moved. 1 week. That got my tear ducts going. And we blinked and court was adjourned. Done. I think it shocked me so much that it took me a minute to start packing up and the lawyer basically told us to get out...kindly of coarse.

We fumbled to get our stuff and stand up. Did I mention it was boiling-lava hot in that room? I asked Jonathan to go catch Pauline and get a picture with her but told him I was going to hang back. I sat Elsie down in the hallway and got out some gummy treats. She was waving and smiling at people as they walked by. She was not the same little girl that sat in my lap, broken, only an hour before. We walk-jumped down the stairs and met Jonathan outside. I was full of questions trying to get a sense of things from Jonathan. I was still a little stunned that it was over. Jonathan had to stop me (surprise, surprise) and say “Look! Elsie is twirling.” Elsie was teeth-showing happy. God came in and she hasn’t been the same since. We still have a long way to go, but we have turned a corner. And with God on our side, we are moving forward. 

Court

Guest Post by Jonathan:

Well the day finally came that we would go to a Kampala courtroom to plead our case to adopt Elsie and Ki. We knew the day would be hard, mostly because the biological mother would be there and we knew it would be hard on little Elsie. Rashid, the orphanage director, and another couple, Jeff and Meredith, who are in the adoption process as well, accompanied us. The day began with a trip to the king’s mansion to get a picture of the king and a certificate showing that we visited. We were to present these two items to the judge to impress him and show that we care about Ugandan culture. As a side note, Uganda has 10 regions and 10 regional kings that are largely ceremonial. The country does have a democratically elected president. But, back to court day; the next stop was to a photographer for passport pictures. The photographer was pretty quick, but Rashid and Jeff went to exchange money while we were there, so the rest of us sat in the waiting area while the kids colored. After this, we said goodbye to Jeff and Meredith (Rashid’s wife came and picked them up), and went with Rashid. He led us to a “mazungu” (white person) café to wait while he went and retrieved the biological mother, who had left at 5:00 that morning to be there. I think she must have gotten a ride to a bus stop and then took the bus from there. We waited at the café for 2 hours. It was quite a nice respite. Melissa had a tuna salad sandwich and I had roast beef and....(just think to yourself “what goes great with roast beef”) that’s right, peanut butter. After taking in the sights and sounds of Kampala, enjoying the WiFi, and giving Ki his first ice cream ever (Elsie was asleep), Rashid came to pick us up and we were on our way. As we walked, I wasn’t sure if we were walking through a city or a zoo. There were huge maribu storks roosting everywhere, ibises rooting around in the grass, and crows that looked pretty normal, except for the big white patches on their chests. The city was so alive with activity. There were mopeds (called buda-budas) everywhere, some of which had multiple passengers, human and animal alike. Other than buda-budas there were lots of cars, mostly Toyotas, but the preferred method of transport was on foot. People were walking everywhere as we headed to the court building. The courtroom was on the 3^rd floor, and there was no elevator. We had already done a lot of walking with a backpack and small child for each of us. Elsie is still partial to Melissa, so she carried her, even though she’s heavier. Needless to say, by the time we got to the 3^rd floor Melissa let out a sigh of relief. We were led to a waiting room where we sat right next to a group of people who were obviously on different sides of a dispute. As they argued in Luganda (the main language in Kampala), we made up stories about what the dispute was about. At one point the women got very animated and were crying. We can only imagine what was going on. After about an hour, we started seeing some mazungus with black children filter in. There was a couple from Connecticut who have known the kids they are adopting for 6 years. On this trip, the trip when they thought all the ducks were in a row to finally adopt these kids, there were more complications. This was the 4^th time they were in court in the last couple weeks and they were hoping to hear a ruling in their favor. Their time came before ours, so we got to see the joy and elation when the judge ruled in their favor. We also met another couple from Alaska who are adopting a little boy.
Then things got really interesting. I saw Rashid in the hallway, so I knew the biological mother was somewhere close by. I had seen a picture, but I was not sure if I’d recognize her. Then I saw her and my heart sank. She looked so sad. You could tell it was difficult for her to walk, her frail body gingerly moved from side to side as she advanced. It was instantly obvious that she was a beautiful woman whose body had suffered the ravages of HIV and living the life of peasant in the Ugandan countryside. I know very little about her story. I know her name is Pauline. I know she cannot read or write (her thumbprint substituted for her signature.) I know that she was married, but her husband died of malaria because he too had AIDS and could not fight off the parasites. I’m aware that she gave birth to 8 children, the two youngest of which she is giving up because she can no longer take care of them in her state, and she’s determined to not have her older children drop out of school to take care of their younger siblings. And I know, in a minute I’ll be looking her face to face not knowing what to say or do. I suppose I shouldn’t worry about saying anything since she doesn’t speak English, but I want her to know that I’m praying for her, that I can’t imagine how difficult it would be to go through what she’s going through, and I want to tell her that I’ll take good care of Elsie and Ki. I expect that if she did speak English we would have a lot to talk about. As it was, though, she entered the room and approached us solemnly. Rashid said something in Luganda and I shook her hand and said “very nice to meet you.” Melissa was compelled to greet her like family. She gestured and asked if she could give her a hug. They embraced and, well there wasn’t much else to do but take our separate seats. At this point I could tell that Elsie had recognized her birth mother and she started to whimper a bit. Then the tears came. She kept looking back at Pauline sitting at the back of the room. I could tell it was difficult for Pauline, too. She tried not to make eye contact. We gave Elsie a sucker to try to distract her, but it didn’t work. That’s when Melissa made the decision to go to another room – a decision that was best for Elsie and Pauline. I sat in there for a while because Ki had fallen asleep in my arms and we had two backpacks to move, but after about 30 minutes I went to find Melissa, who had found a waiting room with toys for children. Although we were on the third floor of a high rise in city on the equator, there was no air conditioning. Ugandans are used to it, New Mexicans are not. I brought a suit jacket so I could look my best in our court appearance, but it was just too hot to wear while we waited. So when a man came it telling us it was time, there we are with two backpacks, two babies, and I have to get my jacket on as we head down the hall. It was probably not that important that we be there that quickly, but to us we wanted to hurry. It must have been comical to see us. Melissa is trying to keep Elsie from seeing Pauline so she doesn’t cry the entire time. I’m handing Ki, who’s awake now, to Rashid so I can get my jacket on. And we’re trying to weave two backpacks and kids between people in the hall as we approach the courtroom sweating and out of breathe. When we enter, our lawyer asks us to take a seat. Melissa is keenly aware that Pauline is seated in the row behind her to her left. She keeps Elsie facing the opposite direction. She whispers to me “pray for Elsie” as we sit down. I do. Then the judge begins. He’s speaking in Luganda, so we did’t know what was being said, but the lawyer was laughing like he’s at a comedy show. Maybe the inside scoop is that the Judge fancies himself a comedian, and the lawyer is sucking up. Maybe he’s genuinely funny. My money is on the former. After 10 minutes of the comedy show, the judge calls Rashid’s name. He stands, nods, says a few words in Luganda, and then sits down. Then the judge calls Pauline’s name. She goes up and stands right next to the judge’s desk faces the judge with a downcast appearance. Pauline is up there for 15 minutes or so. Again, they aren’t speaking a word I can understand. I know it’s not the truth, but I can’t help thinking she’s telling the judge that she has made a mistake and wants them back, that’s she’s found a husband and can take care of them now, that somehow her HIV test was a false positive. I shake off those feelings and notice that Ki is getting restless. Pauline cries. Then she laughs a little. Then she cries some more. Later we find out from Rashid that the judge was asking her about her husband, her disease, and her remaining older kids. Pauline sits down and the judge has some more words with the lawyer. We now know that the judge will soon call either Melissa or me, we’ll present him with the picture of the king, and then answer his questions. Then disaster strikes. Melissa looks at me and whispers, “we forgot the certificate and the picture of the king!” I freak out a little on the inside and whisper those words to Rashid. Rashid looks worried, which doesn’t help my situation much. He passes the words on to the lawyer who then relays that to the judge. At hearing this news, the judge looks at me, lowers his head to look over his reading glasses, and says, “That is very unfortunate.” I couldn’t understand much up to this point, so those words being a large percentage of what I did understand was not optimal. Ki is getting fussier. Then the judge calls Melissa’s name. She heads up to same place Pauline stood, Elsie in her arms, and faces the judge confidently. We’ve heard that this very judge has made several people cry, so I pray for Melissa. I begin giving Ki a bottle because I know I could be next and his fussiness was increasing. Then the judge starts in on Melissa. He tells her a story about how he stayed the night at a Muzungu's house and he frightened their little blond headed girl. He asked what the definition of adoption is. And he asked why we wanted to mix up our “pure” family. After each one of Melissa’s answers, Rashid nudged me and nodded with a smile. After the fifth question or so, Rashid leans over to me and whispers, “she’s a genius.” He was right. Later, Rashid elaborated by saying “the judge is a genius, but he’s not used to going toe-to-toe with a mind who is his equal.” That about sums it up. Melissa answered each question superbly. She didn’t falter, was confident, and didn’t even cry. When she sat down, the judge had a few more words for the lawyer. I was sure I was up next, but now I wasn’t worried about Ki’s fussiness, I was worried about his diaper. I hadn’t changed him in quite some time, he hadn’t pooped yet that day, and he just had an entire bottle of formula he wasn’t entirely used to. What could go wrong, right? Fortunately, after speaking with the lawyer, the judge did not call me up. Instead, he looked at me and said “you are going home and letting your wife finish up this process, right?” I shook my head and told him that I’m planning on staying to the end. At these words he immediately picks up his calendar and says a few words in Luganda. But I did understand a couple words this time – November 6. I was immediately relieved because I knew a ruling in 7 days was as good as we could hope for. I looked over at Melissa and she didn’t look happy. She said to me “did he say November 16?” I said “no, the 6^th.” Then I could see tears well up. “Now I cry,” she says. The lawyer turns to us and confirms that we will be back on the 6^th and tells us our hearing is adjourned. At this point Elsie is whisper-singing; she had been since Melissa sat down. God was indeed doing a miraculous work in her. Later Melissa told me that she prayed that the Holy Spirit would be with Elsie.
We waited for Pauline to get ahead a bit so as not to upset Elsie any more and then we headed out. I ran ahead to catch Rashid and Pauline in the parking lot so I could thank Pauline and ask to take a picture with her before Rashid escorted her to the bus. I headed back with Ki in my arms to join Melissa and Elsie who were lagging behind on purpose. We waited in that parking lot for Rashid to return from taking Pauline. While we waited, it was the first time we saw Elsie twirl.     

The Night I Met The Newest Grassmicks

Sorry if this has typos.

So the trip to Uganda was long but really everything went smoothly and I slept on both of the long flights. The one unexpected thing that happened was that from Amsterdam we flew to Gilgali, Rwanda first, which is a little further than Entebbe. We had about an hour there on the plane and then spent 35 minutes in the air to get to Uganda. As we were descending for the last time I started to get hot and jittery. My mind was fine, I didn’t think I was nervous, but my body took over and reacted to the anticipation. By the time we were on the ground I was a little...... impatient maybe.

We were pretty close to the front of the plane so we were off quickly. On the way down the hallway I saw a bathroom and decided to go since I didn’t know how long customs might be. By the time we both went, loads of people were streaming into the lines so I wanted to hurry. But then I remembered that it was during our sleep that they passed out the entry forms on the plane so we needed to find those and fill them out before getting in line. Wow, I was not happy about this. J So, by the time we finished we were the. last. people. in. line. I was in shock when the line started moving. We were in front of the visa window within ten minutes. I nervously answered all of his questions and he was signing our papers when he asked for money. I didn’t know where our money was! We hadn’t used it yet. So, I was the dumb American searching through all of our carry ones looking for the envelope with my mind racing. Jonathan caught on to my madness and reminded me where it was. Good. Visa man paid.

Okay, now to get our luggage. All the luggage made it. Praise the Lord. I thought these were the first steps in the customs process. I was prepared for another hour or two before we walked out and met our babies. Nope. The next room people were holding signs and we saw our name: GRASSMICKS.

It was Rashid. We shook hands and he told us our babies were in his car with their nanny (the orphanage mom.) I was shocked that we were done and in. We walked across the parking lot and talked about the weather and then he said, “This is my car. Your kids are in there.” I didn’t know what to do. We had all this luggage. Was I supposed to help with the luggage? Was I supposed to open the door? So, Teddy, the nanny, opened her door and handed me a wrapped bundle of a baby. He was sound asleep and chu. bby. After I stared at him for a couple of minutes, I looked up at Jonathan and he rushed over. Teddy moved herself and Elsie, who also was asleep to the front seat and we got in. When we were settled she handed Elsie back to us. She is ti. ny. She woke up and started fussing...one of those just-woken-out-of-sleep fusses. Jonathan was talking to her, trying to sooth her. We have now decided it probably wasn’t that soothing since we probably sound so strange and unfamiliar to them, but it was all we had. Once we started moving I started singing Amazing Grace to her and she drifted back to sleep. Rashid rolled the windows down so the wind was blowing and he was driving in such a way that made me look for something to hold on to. J We stopped twice on the way home. The first time, he just got out and walked away. Teddy tried to talk with us but she doesn’t speak English well. Rashid made his way back within 10 minutes and we were on our way again. The second stop was at the orphanage where Teddy got out. And we just sat there. Rashid was talking to us and telling us stories and asking us questions. The whole time I was thinking, “Why aren’t we going? Is there something I am supposed to be doing that I don’t know about?” But, after about 15 minutes, Teddy came out, told Rashid something and then we started on. The trip was probably 40 minutes with stops. The drive was wild. It was really dark. The cars have lights, but not the streets. There were people just walking on the road and crossing the road. There was lots of honking and swerving. I loved it.

When we got to the Guest House, the armed guard and the cook helped carry our stuff in. They had some government officials staying at the house so we got the only room left. It is small. (Now that they are gone, we are going to get a bigger room...maybe tonight.) So, us two, two kids, four checked suitcases, a big box, and 3 carries ons, two beds, five chairs. Hmmm. Rashid stayed and talked with us for 10 minutes or so. I laid Ki down on the twin bed and he never woke up that night. Elsie, though, fussed from the time they got out of the car. Once Rashid left, Jonathan tried to lay her down on the full size bed but she was really unhappy. He handed her to me and started getting out one of the rocking chairs that we had brought. I rocked her and sang to her and it didn’t work. I found my phone and played her some lullabies, which didn’t work. So finally, I lied down with her at the foot of the twin bed that Ki was sleeping on. She fussed and cried and I prayed and sang until I finally noticed every couple of minutes she would look over at her brother. Ohhhh, so I picked her up and moved her right next to him. She quietly put her thumb in her mouth and fell right to sleep. Elsie needed something familiar. She still does. Her and her brother sleep right next to each other on that bed for naps and night. They flop on each other and kick each other, but it makes her feel safe.

Elsie still isn’t really comfortable with us. She hasn’t let her guard down yet. But we are making baby steps. Just last night, after I put her jammies on I asked her to come to me so I could put her in bed and she listened. She walked to me, held up her hands to be picked up and hugged me back (though not really sincere) and let me lay her down. J Sweet moment. This morning she woke up a little fussy and Jonathan went over to comfort her and when he would put his hand on her back she would scoot away and cry. He asked me to help and she didn’t act that way with me. I just lied down near her and offered her a drink. She settled back down and went back to sleep.

I have lots more to tell you about but this is all for now.

We have had very little power since we got here. My phone is dead and my computer is about to be. I will write again when I can.