Movin' On Up

We are now number 4 in line for a girl! This is wonderful news considering the very tough year we've had already. As I alluded to in the last post, we found out just after the first of the year that Travis' dad has stage 4 renal cancer in his lung and spine. He had his kidney removed twenty years ago, and his blood work checked out clear for 5 years afterward (at which point you are deemed "clean" or "cured"). Apparently this type of cancer is very difficult to cure, but it's still surprising everyone to see if reappear after such a long period of silence. There is no cure, but there are some alternative treatments available (both FDA approved and clinical trials) to help slow or stop the growth of the tumors. He's already undergone a round of radiation to prevent the tumor on his spine from causing paralysis. We're in the process of getting a second opinion before we decide on a course of treatment. We would appreciate your continued prayers for Travis' parents and Travis and his sister Angie.
Also, one of my cousins has been diagnosed with nasal-pharyngeal cancer and is undergoing intense chemotherapy and radiation. Did I mention he's only one year older than me? We are continuing to pray for strength and encouragement for him and his dad as he battles through this.
There are a few more stories I could share with you, but for now I will spare you from the depressing details. Let's just say that this year has reemphasized to me that we are not guaranteed tomorrow and that we must make the most of today. I have made it a priority to spend more quality time with the ones I love and to keep in better contact with those that I don't get to see as often. And to spend more daily time with the Lord. I would challenge you all to do the same. It is so easy to get wrapped up with the details of day-to-day life, but we must take the time to look around and see the world beyond our own driveway. That is my resolution for 2009.

Quick Adoption Update

Just a quick note to keep you all informed. We've seen some progress this week, which is always encouraging, and we are now (approximately) number 6 in line for a girl. We've heard there may be more referrals soon, so keep your fingers crossed.
Unfortunately, we have some not-so-good news in our family (non-adoption related). I can't really discuss the details yet, but your prayers are very much coveted for Travis' dad and our entire family. We need physical healing, discernment, and comfort.

Merry Christmas (Really...)

Now that I've had a chance to sleep, let me apologize for my very negative post yesterday. God is always faithful to his children, including me. Setbacks are never easy to take, and I think it's just especially difficult at Christmas time. This journey has not been a very easy one, but it has not been without joy either. And when we finally get her home, I know without a shadow of a doubt that this will all be worth it, and I'm sure I'd do it all over again.
Thank you for your continued thoughts, prayers, and comments. It's encouraging to have others come along with us on this journey. Travis and I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful year to come!

No Hope Tonight

This post won't be very eloquent or long (and I apologize in advance for my crappy mood...it is not directed at you!). We received some bad news today from our agency. Wait times are increasing all around, especially for infant girls. Instead of our original 7-9 months, we're now looking at 9-11 months, with a possibility of running more to 11 months. Our hearts are broken, and to be very honest, I can't find very much hope right now. We thought we were coming down the home stretch. Instead, it's very likely that unless things in Ethiopia change, we could be looking at April for a referral and not traveling until July. There is always a possibility that things could speed up, but I'm not banking on it.
Now, we know that things could always be worse. I mean, Abraham and Sarah waited 10 years from the time God led them out of Ur until they had Jacob. Hannah waited for many long years until God gave her Samuel. Joseph was wrongly imprisoned for 7 years in Egypt. I know that God has a plan and all things happen for a reason. I know all those things. But I am so sick of hearing people say them to me; it doesn't make this any easier. I am done waiting.

7 months and World AIDS Day

Today marks 7 months since our dossier left the United States and made its way to Ethiopia. This is also significant as the referral time line for a baby girl is projected at 7-9 months. We know, though, that the wait is not yet over. There are still 9 (or maybe more we don't know about) families ahead of us. We are hoping that AWAA will still get to refer children to the February and March families before Christmas, which would put us significantly closer to the top of the list.
That being said, I wanted to share another important date with you. Yesterday, December 1, was World AIDS Day. This pandemic disease has become more and more relevant to us as we learn more about Ethiopia. I began reading a new book last week titled There Is No Me Without You by Melissa Fay Greene. The book is written by an American journalist who discovered an Ethiopian woman named Haregewoin Teferra who is defying all social codes and mores by trying to rescue the AIDS orphans in Ethiopia. This woman's journey and subsequent mission is sobering, humbling, and eye opening. AIDS is destroying an entire generation in Africa while we Westerners haven't a clue. I feel ashamed by our lack of knowledge and action. If you have any desire to learn more about my daughter's culture and country, please read this book. I can't tell you how much I have been touched by Haregewoin's life and story; I promise you won't be disappointed.
I want to leave you with a brief selection from this book.

Waiting in a clinic for the result of an HIV blood test, or for a child's blood test, is the archetypal experience of modern Africans.
The patient waiting for results may imagine that the outside world-the industrialized democracies of the West-once alerted to the terrible situation here, will ride to the rescue. Because how could people know and not help?
A few may suspect that the outside world has been fully informed, for there has been no shortage of experts. In fact, extensive documentation has been collected and collated, graphed and disseminated.
Stephen Lewis calls the voluble hobnobbing of experts on the subjects of global health and orphans "speakathons"; they "give credence," he writes, "to the proposition that if you talk about something for long enough, the illusion will be created that progress is being made...And I suppose there has been some progress in the world of reports, analyses, figures, tables, diagrams, and at least a thousand PowerPoint presentations, not to overlook throbbing intellectual rumination, but very little progress that's discernible in the lives of orphaned and vulnerable children on the ground."
The African patient, waiting for test results, discovers that the outside world, while not completely indifferent, is not going to intervene to save his or her life, or the child's.

Around the world, a few fantastically popular television shows strike me as bizarrely playful versions of contemporaneous darker scenes.
On American Idol and its many knockoffs, singing contestants wait for verdicts issued by seated judges. "Yes, you go on to the next round," they may hear; "See you tomorrow," or "No, your competition is over," "America has voted," "Your journey ends here." Viewers phone in votes for their favorites. In other shows, individuals fight for survival on island expeditions until they are voted off the show, off the island, by their erstwhile comrades. The last man or woman standing is crowned "the survivor."
These programs are "reality shows."
In Africa, by the hundreds and thousands and millions, but one by one, a person sits in a clinic waiting room, jumpy or still, feeling fine or feeling nauseous, coughing or not coughing. Or she squats outside in the dirt yard, holding her head in her hand, occasionally looking up and calling to her children not to wander too far. Each waits to hear his or her name called. Inside the examining room, a doctor or nurse or nurse's aide examine a slip of paper and looks up. The eyes speak first.
Negative: You advance to the next round. See you tomorrow.
Positive: America has voted. Your journey ends here.
There are no television cameras.
No viewers at home are cheering or weeping.
No viewers at home phoned in their individual votes. Most never knew anything was at stake.
"I have heard there are treatments," a woman will whisper.
"Not in our country," the doctor will say with a sad smile.
"Does it mean I will die soon?" a man will ask.
"Yes, I'm afraid that is what it means."
"I thought perhaps I just had a cold."
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Thank you, Doctor."

#10

Just a small update. I finally gave in to the pressure of my curiosity and joined the chat group for Ethiopia AWAA families. I really resisted for a long time because I have a tendency to become obsessed with things I can't control (i.e. God's timing with this adoption!). So, the more I could distance myself from it, the less I would be consumed by it, and the happier life could be in the Taylor household. But, let's face it, we're coming down the home stretch, and it's been difficult not to think about it every day, sometimes all day long.
So I haven't become completely obsessed, but I can tell you that I found out we are #10 in line for a baby girl! We are hopeful (from what we've been hearing) that a January referral is very possible (oh, Jesus, we pray), and that 6-10 weeks later, we could be traveling to meet our daughter.

Surprise!

Travis and I had one of the best surprises on Saturday evening. No, it wasn't our long awaited referral (that would be the best ever surprise), but something almost as good. I had scheduled a candle party for a friend of ours, Sara, who is married to one of Travis' friends, Jason, for Saturday afternoon. Sara thought it would be fun if she invited the guys to come hang out while the girls did our candle thing, and then enjoy an Italian dinner all together afterward. Well, I had finished up the show and order taking and it was finally time to eat dinner when Sara announced that we were going to play a game first. She requested that we all sit boy-girl-boy-girl and close our eyes and wait. I noticed that I was the only girl in the room at this point, but Sara said she was going to go find them. Well, when we opened our eyes a few moments later, we were shocked to see this in front of us:

The candle party was really a cover for our Surprise Baby Shower! Travis and I were completely overwhelmed by our friends' love and generousity and ability to pull one over on us. We both completely shocked and surprised!

Our Boppy (notice Travis' embarrassed/confused look at the revealing picture on the front of the package...)

My favorite onesie. It reads, "I'm new here."

Bathtime fun with pink rubber duckys

As if planning a surprise party wasn't enough, Sara also crocheted us this beautiful lavender blanket, which matches the baby's room perfectly!

Lots of books for bedtime stories. This one, My Daddy and Me, also has another in its set, My Mommy and Me.

Discussing teething tablets and other mommy tricks of the trade with our friend Terri.

You might be wondering what all those guys did during the shower portion of the evening. They all watched for the first few gifts and then found this...

It was an experience like no other! Thank you all for such a great evening and for such great gifts! We can't wait to share our daughter's life with all of you.