Part III: Taking Amelie & Leaving Toukoul

It was so tough leaving Amelie when she was congested, and then wondering at night how she was doing. Now I know we could have taken her from the orphanage whenever we wanted to. She was legally our child, so we could have taken her to the guest house and then 'officially' checked her out through paperwork on Wednesday. At the time, Aster (the magnetic and energetic woman who oversaw the families, the guesthouse, and the transition process) had a set schedule we were supposed to follow, and to us it insinuated we had to wait at least until the staff was there Monday. She was very commanding; a matriarch who seemed to have the process down to a "t". She greeted us warmly at least twice a day, checking on us to make sure all our needs were being met, and she gave us the sense that she was really there for us. Whatever the case with any 'check-out policy', we'd planned to let Amelie warm up to us on her turf at Toukoul. To continue visiting her and spending time with her in familiar surroundings felt like a good plan. We were very happy to be able to visit her that next day, a Sunday, because our agency told us we wouldn't be able to. So many contradictions, but we weren't complaining!

One of the days before visiting her again we hopped over to the National Museum where they had a rich collection on the history of Ethiopia. The tour guide was outstanding, and we learned so much. It was so interesting that I could have easily stayed all day. The guide kept sweetly telling us "Welcome home, welcome home to Ethiopia" because it's where the earliest humans have been found. He was so warm, sincere and welcoming, and it filled my heart with a strong sense of unity. It is such a significant place in human history. We saw a huge throne that belonged to a Rastafarian prince, along with Lucy's bones. Lucy dates back 3.2 million years and we actually got to see the bones in person...we didn't expect that. Ethiopia was once such a thriving country, and as the guide discussed this he noted how symbolic the deteriorating relics are when compared to the current downfall of the country. "Ethiopia is like that" as he pointed to a crumbling vase... he noted that the much older vases were not falling apart, and that the newer things just didn't hold together as well, much like the modern problems with the country. Sounds similar to present day American products, only many of ours only last a few months!

The museum, and the rides around Addis in heavy smog are pretty much all the sightseeing we did. There were masses of people who varied greatly from those in business suits to people wearing draped cloth while herding large numbers of goats. There was a festive feeling because of the upcoming New Years celebrations taking place September 10th and 11th. We didn't feel as stared at as we were in India, and when we were looked it we received smiles of acceptance. Originally, we planned to explore outside Addis and view a lush countryside that I've heard rivals Alaska, but we ended up having a very hard time breathing and decided to focus more on Amelie and taking care of ourselves. That second day we had a very good visit, and her rattling chest sounded significantly better. She was more alert and started babbling a lot. She smiled and interacted with us, and recognized us from the first visit. She chugged a whole 7 ounces of organic soy formula we brought her, and we got the sense she could have taken much more. She ended up falling asleep on Daniel and he was in Heaven, talking about the bonding he could feel happening. It was also the very first day we heard her cry, and it was music to my ears. We had her for several hours and it just happened to be porridge time. She was extremely hungry, so we let her go to have her usual afternoon feeding. The group went back to the guest house and we all started talking about when we'd take our babies for good.

Should we take her tomorrow, should we wait another day or two? Amelie seemed okay, and was really warming up to us. We decided to play it by ear each day. One couple decided to take their twins that Monday, but Daniel and I were unsure how we'd be with the extreme time change and our severe lack of sleep. We really believed we would lose a significant amount of sleep had we taken her sooner, and we were still severely jet lagged. Waking up at midnight, unable to sleep for hours. We had not slept well in several days and wanted to start out with Amelie in good shape. Little did we know we had an angel/Zen/Buddha baby on our hands that would have slept like a dream!

By the time Tuesday rolled around we'd visited Amelie every day for several hours. It was one day before we were to check her out for good and she seemed extremely comfortable with us, not to mention we were very well rested after finally succumbing to sleeping pills. So, we took her with us that evening and she shocked us by sleeping all night in unfamiliar surroundings. Over 12 hours to be exact, and we had to wake her up in the morning. Imagine that, waking a sleeping baby! During the day, she seemed most comfortable in her crib, and took several naps. She was extremely mellow, easygoing, and seemed to study every detail around her with great focus. Looking into her eyes, we knew some major wheels were turning. She rarely got noisy unless she became bored, and then she entertained herself with interesting vowels and consonants.

When we went back to Toukoul Wednesday, a nurse came around and spoke to each family individually about the child's history and present condition. We thought, "finally we can ask for antibiotics!" For days we'd been asking about them, demanding them, but getting no where. Her chest was slowly sounding better, though, and we noticed all the kids had bad chest colds going around. The nurse sat down and said "Aaah, Sosena! She is known as our 'Black Diamond'." Daniel and I were so touched because she had such a reverence for Amelie and her dark color. She touched her face and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. Daniel thanked her for telling us that, and told her it made him want to cry. Really, I could feel tears in my eyes. She went on to explain "Sosena is such good baby, and very smart, too." She mentioned her chest congestion, and said she'd been taking antibiotics and cough syrup. She left to get the bottles for us to take. When she brought them back they were new bottles, never opened and we still wonder if she was on them, or if she started taking them that day when we gave them to her.

Toukoul orphanage gave us a hand embroidered bag with her medical history and a beautiful traditional dress inside. They also gave us a tour of where Amelie spent her time eating and sleeping. The grounds were a mixture of gritty, dust covered asphalt with a few buildings and a garden area. Children's laundry hung everywhere- on trees, lines, playground equipment, anywhere they could hang it, there it was. We could hear the constant sound of older kids playing outside, some wearing only one shoe playing with a tattered soccer ball (it really didn't even look like a ball any more but they didn't care), and children were often singing songs. At one point I walked across a deck where toddlers were looking out of an all glass room. They clamored to the windows in a frenzy, almost as if they were anxious to get out or have the stimulation of seeing a new person. They were all so beautiful and bright-eyed. Daniel gazed at one child's almond eyes and decided he needed to get away before he got any ideas of wanting to take another one home! He spoke of that child's eyes a while, and I kept making him change the subject... Amelie is #5 and finished, not #5 and counting!

Every time we pulled into Toukoul there were kids happily greeting us at the gate. They waved, smiled, and I will never forget one young boy blowing us kisses. I looked at all of them and saw Amelie. I thought about her fate versus theirs, and I wondered how hard it must be for them to see us coming for little babies. I think of our Prasad and how many times he had to endure seeing babies leave, and it was never, ever his turn to go for almost 7 years. He watched people nurture those babies, holding and loving them in a way that he so desperately craved. It was no wonder he was waiting angrily at home, dreading the prospect of having a baby in the house. The resentment and pain are deep. I saw Prasad in all those boys, and knew that no matter how much love and kisses they blew our way, they felt left out. One boy sneaked into the family room area where we all sat and gave Daniel a zillion high-fives until they were both all giggles. It had to be a high point of his day, his month, or his year until a caregiver came in and scolded him. Those kids are etched in our hearts and minds.

Anyway, the room where Amelie stayed was on the very top floor of a 4 story building. It wasn't as clean and well maintained as Prasad's orphanage in India, but there was a vibration of love that filled the air. They really nurtured each and every baby, holding them while they were fed, kissing their cheeks and hands often, playing and interacting. The babies are given a great deal of human contact, which explained Amelie's strong and prolonged eye contact. Her bed was at the end of a very long row of beds that filled the entire wall. Three walls had cribs all around them with a mattress in the center of the floor where the babies laid and played. It didn't have the sour smell of giardia I remembered from Prasad's orphanage. They kept the babies very clean. Seeing her empty bed there was eerie, but in a bittersweet way. I imagined all the times she laid there, needing her family when she cried. I also rejoiced in seeing it empty, knowing she'd never lay in it again. When it was time to leave for that day, it was an amazing feeling knowing we would never return, and that her days at the orphanage were completely over. A new chapter in her life was just beginning.

Next- the Ethiopian New Year, and my food conundrum