Happy Gotcha Day Moose!

One year ago today, our little gamo baby on Gotcha Day 2007!



Remember~

I know a little about waiting. I do not mean the kind of waiting that takes place at Wal-mart when there is a sale, too many customers and not enough cashiers. I mean the kind of waiting that weakens the heart, makes the mind tired, and truly accompanies the verb persevere. When I left for Ethiopia last year my ticket was one way. The courts were closed. Our case for adopting Samuel was on hold. We had great hope that our adoption process would proceed as planned and that I would be traveling back with our son within a few weeks, but hope was not certainty it was just hope. A year later I can shamefully not recall all of the details that I wish I could share now, but I do remember the day that the courts opened in Ethiopia. We were granted a court date. I wrote to Jason of our good news and we celebrated prematurely.
A court date meant that our case was final, that this child whom we had been given and set our love upon would officially become our child. The day came and went and our case went unheard. The day we were to have court all of Addis lost electricity and the courts closed. A few weeks later we were granted another court date. We waited again. That court date came upon us and our case was next to be heard. This same day the Ethiopian government decided that a new document must be included in all adoption cases, our file was missing this singular sheet of paper and again our case was not heard. I stood in the orphanage, trying to hold back my tears, when the news was delivered.
This time the news was not only that our case went unheard, but that it would not be scheduled to go to court again until late November, putting us home at Christmas~ two months longer than we thought I would be in Ethiopia. This presented concerns for us as we would be losing our housing just a couple of weeks and Samuel's health was declining. Looking back I remember feeling devestated, but I do not recall ever thinking, even once, that our adoption would not go through. I had no fears, just the symptoms that come with faith when it is being pulled up from one's gut~ exhaustion, pain, and indescribable peace.
My mother had come to Ethiopia to be with me, but really it was for an adventure and to get her hands on this little boy who was going to be her grandson. She came and went, still we had no resolution, no finality, no court date.The time she was with us passed quickly, quietly and was one more sign that time was passing but no progress was being made in our case. My grandmother also came. She had a dream that told her to go and be with us in Ethiopia and so she did. For a brief week, there were four generations living nervously together in a small flat above a grocery story that sold the best coke-a-cola I have ever had.
Two days before my grandmother was to return home the phone rang in our flat. I was taking a bath, cleaning off the morning walk to Kaldi's where I daily drank an avacado milk smoothie. Samuel was sleeping, he was sick. My grandmother answered the phone and handed it over to me, stretching the cord as far as it would go.

This is what my grandmother heard as she stood in the bathroom staring at me:

......Hi Gail. Yes I am sitting down, actually in the bath. Don't drop the phone, ha. Why would I drop the phone? What? What? What? Are you freaking kidding me? What. Praise God. Praise the Lord. How? He did! Tell him I will kiss him! No seriously. I want to kiss that man! Praise God! Oh my word! ....... and on and on and on.

It was October 23, 2007. I had been in Ethiopia for over a month and my court date had been pushed back three times. We now waited for our new court date which was going to be on November 25. I was in the bath when I received the most fantastic news that I have ever been given in my life~ a man named Yared fought for our case and earlier that morning the Ethiopian courts signed our papers. We were a family.
For real. Legally. Signed, recognized, acknowleged, undisputed, completed.

What happened after was a blur. There was more dancing. There were phone calls made. There was praise and laughter and hugs. There was that peace, which had always been present, swelling up within me. I leaned over to my son, now awake, and whispered "Gotcha, baby".

Today is October 23, 2008 one year after the courts made us a family officially.


Today we celebrate with cake, dancing, and the kind of fun that sends a message to the heart of a two year old saying, "this day is about you!" We embrace one another, we pray for the days to come, and praise our God who was and is faithful.

Mostly though, we lean down once more and whisper two words that will always ring true for my husband and I towards our little Gamo boy. Samuel Mussie forever, ever, and always we "Gotcha, Baby".












Happy Gotcha day, Samuel Mussie. Love love love love love you! Ewedahalo!

~ Mommy



We wait in hope for the LORD;
he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice,
for we trust in his holy name.
May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD,
even as we put our hope in you.
Psalms 33:20-22