Shae's log: The end of You and Me

Dear Happy: 

I've started this post so many times.  7 times actually.  And I can never finish it.  So I just delete it knowing that I'll do it another day.  But the days have ended and I need to put it all down tonight. Or at least I'm gonna' try.

It was one year ago-- to the day-- that I started this blog.  And I started it as a response to what happened exactly one year ago-- to the date.  On June 1st, 2011, your family made the hardest decision and signed you over to me.  They recognized that I could give you a life that wouldn't be possible in Tanzania and they consented to your adoption.  It was one of the greatest days of my life.  And to date, it still is.  Of course now one year later, I could never have predicted how terribly wrong everything would go. 

I write this post addressed to you out of my own selfishness.  You may never read this but it somehow helps me to feel closure, even if it is only one sided. 

"Our" story started a long time ago.  It started innocently, really.  I was just a random volunteer watching out for a special little girl at the request of someone else.  Who knew that I would fall in love.  And who knew that those 6 months as chronicled in that former blog would lead to you becoming my child.

But so many unexpected things happened after "got you day".  I can sit here and pour over the woulda', coulda', shoulda', but that can't change what is.  The reality we face is that for one amazing year, you were my sweet girl and I did everything in my power to bring you home with me... and it didn't work.

I am sad that I wasn't very patient when you first came to live with me.  I'm sad that you were sick and it took me a few weeks to figure it out and a few months to get a proper diagnosis.  I'm sad that I met your dad in January... and then we buried him in February.  That just doesn't seem fair.  And most of all, I'm sad that I came back to America and left you behind.  I feel so guilty about coming back to the United States and I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry.

I don't get updates about you and it tears me up inside.  I read on other people's blog posts about you being shy (which you never were) and achieving new goals of language (which with me you had already mastered!).  Reading this confirms my fears that you would regress at my leaving.  But of course you did.  It was "you and me" for a year and a half.   And then the "me" left "you".  But you were 2 1/2 years old.  So of course, you couldn't understand.

I don't want to believe that I will never see you again.  I don't believe that this is the end of our relationship.  But I have to acknowledge that the life I was planning for, worked for, sacrificed for, and prayed for probably won't ever happen.  And because of that, I'm now an incomplete woman. People keep trying to tell me that focusing on other children in my life will fill the void. I can assure you it won't.  The tears running down my face assures me it won't.

Its the first child that makes you a parent. I can have 10 kids, but its the first one that makes me a mom. And you, Happy girl, made me a mom. It was only 3 weeks ago that baby Kingston was born.  As difficult and as physically PAINFUL as that was, I can honestly say that leaving you behind in Africa was harder than any labor will ever be.  I love Kingston.  But my love for him cannot replace my love for you.  I worry about you as I equally worry for him.  He doesn't replace you.  You have your own special place in my life and I miss you more than you know.

But life does have to go on.  I don't want to... but I have to let you go.  But I'm not ready.  I'm not ready.  So for now, I'll just let this blog go silent.  And I'll hope that its just temporary.  And I'll think about you everyday and pray for your safety and happiness.  And I'll love you from afar because you are still my sweet girl and I'll love you forever.  The picture of us was taken moments before I left Tanzania.  The end of You and Me.

In my blog about my first time in Tanzania, I wrote "notes" to myself that I hoped would help me to deal with life after Tanzania.  This was the first one I wrote:

 Note to self # 1: Your heart is going to break when you get on that plane in December. Accept that there is no way to prepare yourself. Ok, then say this with me- go “we were born for this, we were born for this, we were born for this.” 

God gifted me the opportunity to come to Tanzania.  I will forever be grateful to Him for helping get you well and having you in my life.  Maybe I WAS born for this and this was part of God's plan all along.  Right now, I don't know.  But God knows.  And as painful as it is to be away from you, I have to trust Him to watch over you if I can't.  I love you Happy girl.  

~Shae

Shae's Blog: 25 days... and its not getting easier

I can't believe that its been 25 days since I left my beautiful Happy girl.  I have not received updates on her and its so unsettling and painful.  Anyone who loves a child, parented a child, or had a bond with a child knows that going only 3 days without updates on how that child is doing becomes a personal torture.  And thats how I feel right now.  I have had a blog half written for over a month now with all the beautiful things I want to say to Happy and about Happy... but I can't seem to bring myself to finish it to post.  My head and my heart are too dark still.  I'll get there.  Just not ready yet. 

So in the meantime, here are three videos I took on the next to last, and last day with her.  I am really proud of the fact that those last days were filled with smiles and laughter.  Yes, I broke down, but usually it was when she was asleep or not in my presence.  I tried to keep our interaction completely normal and continued with her schedule as always. I didn't want to tip her off that anything was wrong.  Because I've seen her panic before when I had to leave her for a few weeks in November.  And i didn't want to create that scenario for her again.  So we just kept on like we always did... even though my heart was breaking behind the smiles. 

She is my sunshine.  Right now, my only sunshine.  She makes me happy when skies are grey.  She'll never know how much I love her...

So I share these videos.  I'll eventually blog my final post about her and I.  Just not ready yet.

~Shae

She loves to watch men at work!

I stripped her down to cut her hair and then realized the clippers wouldn't work. So we started playing instead.  She always loved to climb on my back and giggle giggle giggle.  So glad we have this on video now!

She is BY FAR the most fun I have ever had.  I just loved every minute with her... even the stressful minutes!  Eventhough her body is the size of a one year old and her voice ever so young, she had big energy and always brought a smile to everyone around her.  She is such a good girl!

Shae's blog: Terrific Three at Happy Watoto

All smiles from both of us!

James finally warmed to pictures.

Before I shut this blog down, I just wanted to share the photos and video I took of James, Jackson, and Pendo on 20 March, 2012.  I was heading back from Moshi after a visit with my lawyer and was passing Kikatiti.  Knowing that I would be leaving Tanzania the next day and having no idea when/if I would return, I decided that I had to stop and sneak a peek at these beautiful three.  

I arrived during lunch time and spotted my beloveds immediately!  Jackson about leaped out of his chair at me, but I convinced him to stay seated and to finish eating. Pendo acknowledged me but never skipped a beat on her chicken and rice.  James, however, was extremely shy and at some point started to cry.  I felt bad because I didn't want to scare him.  I later learned that he was crying for something totally unrelated to me.  But for a short time, I wasn't sure!!

He never stopped being funny throughout the whole visit.

I only stayed for about an hour but it was a great hour none the less.  While James had been initially reserved, he really warmed up by the time I left.  Jackson was all smiles, giggles, and engagement from the moment I arrived.  He wasn't sad when I left, but he did offer hugs and kisses.  It was so cute.  Still, for those of you who know me, I had the most thoughts and feelings on my most cherished love--- Pendo. 

Pendo came into my life in early September, 2010.  I put forth a lot of time, prayer, energy, research, and committment into her care.  Through my time with her getting her well, she taught me so much about love, heartache, hope, and tenacity.  I am a forever changed person because she was a part of my life.  There was no way I could have known, but her illness and triumph over malnutrition prepared me for the diagnosis and treatment I would face with Happy.  I am indebted to Pendo-- and she may never know.  Pendo has one physical scar on her head from the damage of the malnutrition.  The skin tore away from her head and took hair follicles with it preventing hair to grow back.  But at my visit with her on the 20th, I noticed that the scar is getting smaller.  SMALLER.  Remarkable.  

Such beauty behind those eyes!

Pendo has endured so much in the 2+ years that I have known her.  She was abandoned by her mother by being left at Cradle of Love.  She fought malnutrition, TB, and the effects of being HIV +.  But somehow, she overcame!  Then when she aged out of Cradle, she was moved to Happy Watoto.  She was angry and quiet as the wounds of previous abandonment made their way to her emotional surface.  She acted like a child betrayed.  And in a sense, she was!  We got her better at Cradle of Love to return her to her mother.  But that would never come to be.  And now her life will be hard and consist of orphanage placement after placement until she is too old to live in an orphanage anymore.  My heart breaks thinking about it.  And I worry for her.  Except that on this past visit, I saw a spark in her again that had been gone for some time.  And I noticed that the scar on the side of her head was getting smaller.  Maybe that outward physical scar was the metaphor for the healing that is being done for her emotional and mental development.  I love Pendo.  I will always love her.  And I will always worry about her-- for the rest of our lives.  But I think that the broken, abandoned, shell of a little girl is growing into a strong, resilient citizen.  The smiles that she gave me last week --those beautiful beautiful smiles that even gave way to small sparkles in her eyes-- give me hope that she will be ok.  And hopefully, there will always be people visiting who can give me updates on her life.  I love her.  And I don't ever want to lose contact with her progress.

Anika, doesn't your boy look so cute still sucking on that thumb?!?!

Ok, so enjoy the pictures and video.  Future volunteers-- please go visit these three at Happy Watoto and let them know that they are special and so loved!!!!

Jackson wanted to be in every picture.

My life is so much better having had the three of them in it!  They are miracles of mercy and grace.  And their existence reminds me that nomatter the struggle that each of us volunteers go through to get to Tanzania and offer our lives to them, that it was all worth it!  So worth it.  They are worth it.  

~Shae

Shae's log: An update on Happy's health

Laughter is the best medicine!  I love your giggles and smiles.

Happy:

When you came to live with me after being at Cradle and Davona’s house, you were so sick.   I think I didn’t realize how sick you really were until after you got better.  Last week when I took you to Dr. Matthews, he raved about how great you looked and how well you were in comparison to how you started.  He said that you were so well that he didn’t even want to do any more tests on you for another few months—even though you were due for more procedures!  He felt like there was no need to put you through anything traumatic until necessary.  And while I worried about your weight, he kept reassuring me that all was well.  All of our hard work with diet, water, sleep, rash prevention, antibiotic therapy, and obsession with monitoring your skin, nose, eyes, ears, muscle tone, etc. was really paying off.  I’m so proud of you!  You’ve had a rough road with health. But you are clearly coming out well.  Now I know it was worth harassing every pharmacy in Arushatown to get me the meds I needed for you.  I know Pendo probably thought I was crazy washing all your fruits and veggies with special dawa to fend off the parasites and germs, but now I see the huge benefit as you no longer fight with gastrointestinal issues.  Obsessive mothering pays off!  I was quietly neurotic about your food but WOW!  Dolly says you look so good and she would know because it was a year ago she saw you last and she can see the difference.  WAY TO GO Happy!  I'm so proud of you.  Taking care of you was the biggest honor for me and seeing you so vibrant and healthy is just the biggest payoff.  You are a fighter in every sense and I hope you never lose your willingness to overcome!!!

~Shae

Shae's log: An open apology to my son

So this is my open apology to you.  

Its only 9 weeks until it is believed that you will be born.  31 weeks have passed and I am sorry to say that I have done little to record your development thus far.  I have taken no pictures and I have done little to celebrate your impending arrival.  And I have only been focused on taking care of you physically and not done much to prepare for you emotionally or with sentimentality.  And i'm sorry. 

So let me tell you a little bit about what I know of you so far before it all becomes blurry. 

In the beginning, I was very very sick.  But I'm not so sure that you really had much to do with that.  I was fighting the very Tanzanian ailments of Typhoid, salmonella, and parasites.  It took two months, really, to fully recover from those illnesses before I could discern what was pregnancy related "yuckies" and what was that of Africa wrecking havoc on my body!  But alas, by the time Thanksgiving rolled around, I was feeling good and you were on the move! 

You made your first transatlantic flight in November, 2011. It was a sad time for me because I had to leave behind a little girl that I hope one day you will get to meet.  But even then I was hopeful that she would get to come on our next transatlantic flight together in March so that I wouldn't be so sad the next time.  However, this would not come to be.  We'll talk more about that later. Anyway, travels to America were really all about you.  This was the first time you were the star of the show.  It was the first time for all my friends to learn about you. And this was the time when it was confirmed that you would be a Kingston and not an Adasan.

Upon coming back to Tanzania in December, I intended to make more of my life about you.  But I am sorry to say that I failed in my goal.  You deserve to have documented accounts of your development, stories of your father's family, and pictures of how you were growing and changing.  So I am apologizing that I was never able to do it.  

I want you to know that I've thought about you and planned my life in anticipation of you for the last 16 years... if not longer.  I made education and career choices that I thought would benefit you.  I sought help to keep my body and mind as healthy and clear as possible knowing that one day you might arrive and need the best of me around!  I thought about you and your siblings and how I would guide you, love you, and raise you to be good citizens of the world.  And I prayed to God about you... even as long as 10 years ago when I had no idea how and when and IF you would arrive.  As the song goes "You were always on my mind".  And now, after all these years, as your window of development and arrival is so short, I am sad that I haven't celebrated it as much as you deserved.  And I'm sorry. 

The picture above is the most accurate snapshot of the beginning of our life together.  You are so close to being born, and yet you so comfortably fit into my physical space.  The little girl that I talked about earlier has really come to love you!  She always snuggles up to me and finds rest right where you are.  I think you have come to know her as much as you know me, because you are so content when she is laying there next to you. But you get all FUSSY when she cries!  You move and kick and appear really angry until she stops crying and then when she curls up to me, you settle down against her too!  I think you possess a sensitivity to women, even in utero, and I find it completely endearing.  That is a quality I hope you never lose touch with.  It will benefit your future.  TRUST ME on that one. 

So little boy, I again want to say I am sorry about planning for you forever, and now not having it together.  I think this letter is really an apology to the adult you.  One day you will be planning for your own children and wonder what life was like before you were born.  The stories will be short, but I hope you find them interesting.  And I hope you can forgive me for not being the mom I always thought I would be, but give me an opportunity to try and make up for it.  Right now, I have no idea what the future holds for you, for me, for us.  But I have hope for a turnabout.  So we'll just have to wait and see...

~Shae

Shae's log: the payoff

Right now, as I preparing my return to America and facing the reality that God put me here in Tanzania for a purpose that had nothing to do with my hopes and dreams, but everything to do with getting Happy in a good place physically and emotionally, I am reminded that I am/was here for more than just her.

Coming to Cradle of Love was not the original plan.  But it ended up being the catalyst for so much of my life of the last two years.  And, like so many volunteers before me and after me, my purpose was to bring help, peace, and happiness to all the children I was privileged to serve.  I forgot that in doing what I was called by God to do, that my minimal efforts would have a lasting impact on more than just me. 

Today, as I visited orphanages to try and find Happy a new loving home, I came across two beautiful little faces that I had not seen for many months.  In visiting THE MOST beautiful children's facility I have ever seen, the director slyly ushered me and my amazing volunteer friend Heather "Dolly"  into a house to meet a mama and tour the home.  It was upon walking up the cobblestone pathway to this one particularly beautiful cottage, that the director greeted a young child exiting the home and asked "is mama here? And are Hope and Lazaro inside?"  My heart stopped.. .then started beating very fast!  The director had listened to me about knowing two former Cradle children who had settled in their children's village, and so he bypassed all the other houses at this "orphanage" to take us to the home where two of my beloved former Cradle babies now reside!

Upon entering the cottage, I was overwhelmed with how clean and organized the house was.  There was three children milling about, but one beautiful little bald head immediately got my attention as he sat eating his lunch at the kitchen table.  There he was in all his glory-- LAZARO!  It was obvious that he instantly recognized me/us.  But I could see some hesitation.  I greeted him cautiously and asked how he was doing.  With his big cheeky grin, he answered so politely.  I acknowledged with "Lazaro, have you seen me before?" and of course "YES!" was his reply.  "Do you remember my name?".  "No, I forgot it."  And my follow up "thats ok, I'm Shae Shae.  Have you heard my name before?"  "Yes, Shae Shae. I know you!" and from that moment it was on!  Hope came around the corner and it was all smiles and hugs.  They were so excited to see us and wanted to instantly show us everything at their house.  Their rooms are so cute!  They each have their own bed, blanket, their own closet, all their own clothes.  They have their own assigned shoes and do not have to share their personal belongings.  They have 7 children in their home and one mama... and all seven will grow up together until they are teens and move into a house for older youth.  I asked Lazaro about his "brothers and sisters" and he just lit up talking about them and showing me his brothers closets and their stuff! He was so proud and so mature.  He and Hope both LOOKED good, smelled good, answered questions in beautiful English. And they didn't seek too much affection... which is good... because its obvious that they receive appropriate love and attention.  They don't need to seek that from me anymore. They are growing up with confidence and security that includes a family, a great school, and a community of other mama's and children... just like them.  But unless someone were to really tell them, they probably don't know that they are in a "facility".  Because the place looks like a neighborhood of English cottages on a beautifully manicured plot of land.  Its so lovely that I want to live there! 

If Happy cannot live with me forever, my prayer is that she can live here or somewhere as equally family oriented as this place. The policy of this children's village is that we were not allowed to take pictures and publish.  They take the privacy and dignity of the children VERY seriously and don't want them exploited for other people's enrichment.  While I am sad not to have been able to personally document the day, I respect the protection and love they are showing these children.  Because seriously, would you let people into your home everyday and take hundreds of pictures of YOUR children and then find them plastered all over the internet without any control of how they are used??? Its really a brilliant policy.  And I support it 100% percent.  They can't be sure that pictures are used for true information purposes and so they have this blanket mandate of no published photos.  However, the director did say that its good for former caregivers to know how the children are doing because, and I quote, "they were once part of these children's family". For me, as a parent, this was profound. Part of their visitor consent is that you use no image of a child for your own monetary gain or exploitation.  It was pretty awesome to see.  Really.

So my point in all this blog... my heart is breaking and in so much pain at the thought of not bringing Happy back to America.  I feel like there is a part of my head/heart that will never be the same-- like I am abandoning my firstborn.  But today reminds me, WHILE STILL HEARTBREAKING AND DEVASTATING AND IN NO WAY A SOFTENING TO THE CRIPPLING PAIN I FEEL INSIDE, that my purpose here in TZ was not just for the babies I took personal interest in.  My purpose was to help facilitate all these children into a future.  There were SO many volunteers calling, fund raising, and advocating new homes and sponsorship of these children after they left Cradle.  Parents of vollies ponied up money to help these little ones continue on a good path. I personally made calls here in TZ on behalf of those vollies who went home but needed status updates on there beloved children and would report back via email or skype.  And I feel so privileged to help in the small ways I could.

God said we are to help the less fortunate.  But he never promised us to know the outcomes.  Or to bless us in the way WE want blessings.  However, I think its through his love for those who received help, his compassion to us that so desperately want to see their happy outcomes, and his grace that gives us the permission to know the end story that makes our effort so sweet.   God brought the "payoff" to me this day by seeing a beautifully thriving Hope and Lazaro.  And his payoff gives me hope that these two will not be the only ones who receive the good life that all of us volunteers so desperately sacrificed to give these children.

Working through the darkness,

Shae



 

Shae's log: New language for my breaking heart

Menu perusing at a fab Lebanese restaurant in Dar es Salaam on Tuesday

Over the last week, Happy has REALLY busted out some new language in English.  Knowing that she won't be going to America with me next week is breaking my heart as I am just loving hearing her say these words and phrases over and over.  The latest:

"Bye.  See ya." - Always spoken together and at appropriate times.  So cute.
"Shoes" - even when I say the word in Kiswahili, she replies with SHOOOZ!
"I choo woo" -  Ok, it may not seem like a phrase, but she is actually saying it in place of "I love you" and it melts my heart.  Hearing it after Tuesday's debacle makes my heart break.
"PUPPY" - clear as day when she sees a dob.  Usually accompanied by a "rff, rff" sound.
"mmammmmamamma, nunununununu" = Mama No.  This is usually when I have to put her down from holding her.  She is so cuddly these days.

These blogposts of milestones really have no significance to anyone but me.  However, seeing as my time with Happy may be coming to a close, I just need to "write down" everything before I forget.

Showing her "big girl" behavior at a restaurant in Dar.  She's so cute and proper! Sunshine personified.

I love this child with every single thing I have in my mind and my body.  Parents do say that they will do ANYTHING for their children.  But honestly, what is ANYTHING?  I think a lot of parents have NO IDEA what ANYTHING/EVERYTHING can really mean.  I still feel like I haven't done enough for her.  I feel like my lack of resources and money is holding me back from doing everything humanly possible to make her my legal daughter.  But in my heart/head, she is my first child.  And will always be.  As hard as this journey has been, I would do it all over in a second if it meant that I got to spend this time with her again.

I told my friend Karen yesterday that I've had a great life.  I've had great days in my teens, awesome weekends and adventures in my 20's, and a whole lot of experiences in my 33 years of life that were so amazing and I could never replicate.  But still, being with Happy is the most fun I have ever had.  Really.  She is complete sunshine and brightness to me. 

After almost 2 years of holding it back, I feel the dark clouds of depression rolling in. My heart is breaking right now because I feel my sunshine slipping away. 

Shae's log: Who's really getting trained?

Look at that cheeky grin!

I think its way cool that Happy has taken such an interest in potty training.  I'm really lucky because she expects to sit on the potty every morning when she wakes up and at least 5 more times throughout the day.  She takes her pants off herself, attempts to take off her diaper, sits an appropriate amount of time, and insists on having toilet paper in hand for wiping her bum.  She always throws her paper in the big toilet, and waits for me to re-diaper her.  Upon re-diapering, she stands at the sink and whines for me to lift her up so she can wash her hands.  She then promptly runs over to the counter top, pulls down a towel for drying her hands, and then throws the said towel back on the counter top for use another time. 

It really is an amazing ritual that she has adopted and most mothers would kill to have a child this regimented in their bathroom habits.  But I guess I'm not like most mothers because I'm a bit annoyed by the whole procedure.  You see, there is  one little problem with this 6-times-a-day routine--

She won't actually pee or poo in the pot.  She goes before the undiapering or after receiving a fresh diaper. The routine is all a ruse.

*exhale followed by *sigh

Motherhood proves how little I know about the human condition.  Because really there is no logical reason to explain the aforementioned.  I get bested by the two year old...again!

~Shae

Happy's log: My milestones

Today marks the beginning of month 10 with mommy.  She was listing all my milestones since coming to live with her and so I thought I'd share them with you all now.  Mommy really should have been writing this stuff down as it was happening but I guess she was a little occupied with other things.  She apologized to me about it today.  But honestly, I don't care.  That what my portion of this blog is all about... bragging about myself.  So here goes:

First 3 months together:

*gave up wobbling and learned to walk with confidence
*became attached to mommy
*cut 5 teeth
*learned to dance to Lady Gaga and Justin Timberlake
*started babbling like there was no tomorrow
*became obsessed with Yo Gabba Gabba

Months 4, 5, & 6 together:
*moved into a new house
*learned to climb out of my old crib--promptly got a bigger one!
*started saying words in Kiswahili like "hapa" and "asante"
*Got a few more teeth and started really enjoying ALL solid foods
*learned to appreciate a bubble bath (at first I was scared)
*started running
*perfected snobery!
*discovered that I am an excellent traveler and enjoy bus rides!
*started identifying the dogs and sign language for different animals
*fell in love with my baby dolls.  Mommy says I'm a good mama to my dolls.
*learned how to brush my teeth
*Dr. Matthews helped me to not have pain in my ears anymore!
* Mommy says I have an accurate diagnosis now... I don't know what that means but what I do know is that those horrible ladies stick needles in my arm and take out my blood.  I don't like that! I am very afraid of doctors and nurses now.

7 months together to the present date:
*can completely feed myself
*can take my dirty dishes to the sink
*I undress myself and put my dirty clothes in the basket w/out mommy even telling me to do it.
*I throw all my own trash away
*I know how to get tissue and wipe my eyes when I cry and blow my nose!
*I love saying "here" and "bye" in English
*I started saying "mama"... but then I quit.  Mommy's still sad about that.
* I say a lot of words in Kiswahili--- most of them mommy doesn't know!
*I have all my teeth now.  Four were hanging out for months but they finally broke through!
*I love to skype and dance for Bibi and laugh at Auntie Sara.
* I can crawl out of my big crib too... but I don't do it unless mommy is awake.
*met my baba.. but lost him a month later
*I point to bellies with babies in them and say "baby".  Mommy told me to "shush" once.  And then she and Auntie started giggling.  Something about that lady not having a baby in there or something.  I don't know. It looked like a baby was in there to me! 
*I am an excellent stirrer.  I help mommy make pancakes every weekend.  And i always say "UM!"  because they are so good.
*I love lotion and I can put it on myself! 

There's the rough recap of my first 9 months with mommy.  Nothing too exciting.

~Happy

Shae's log: Sometimes you have to tell Him out loud

I'm going to be honest.  The last 10 months have not been easy.  I have never been pitted with challenges in this large of quantity, in this level of intensity, with these few resources as I have over the last year.  Somehow God has given me the confidence and intelligence to figure things out and I can arrogantly say that I have handled things so well.  I am a little cocky about it because I have surprised myself over and over.  Knowing what a huge drama queen I am in my "other" life, it amazes me that I remain so calm about all the negative things that keep happening here.  I broke down one night in December while still in America. And even that breakdown was lame.  So, facing the possibility of not being able to come to the USA to deliver this baby boy due  shouldn't be a big deal, right?  Right? Um, *sigh.  Sad face. Not right.  Wrong.

I realized this morning that I finally can't handle anything else stressful.  I need a break.  I need a big break.  I have been stressed for 2 years now and I need something to go well.  Just something.  I physically can have this baby here in Tanzania and I can arrange for care of Happy while I deliver.  But here's the thing:  I can't emotionally do it anymore.  I need my friends around me.  I'm tired of being alone everyday.  

So I did something that I don't allow myself to do these days.  I felt the emotion of helplessness and admitted that I can't deal.  As I stood under my faintly trickling shower, I said aloud:

God, I am not strong .  I can't handle  staying here in Tanzania and deliver this baby.  I need you to get Happy's passport and visa to America.  I don't think that I can do this.  You have to make this happen because I'm tapped out. And I've got only days before the U.S. Embassy cuts me off for an appointment to apply for Happy's visa.  

And then I finished my shower. Conversation with God over.  Well, who are we kidding? It wasn't a conversation.  It was one sided -- me pleading for help. 

And then...

Three hours later I got a call from the immigration officer. She says that she thinks she can get me a passport number for Happy by tomorrow so I can make an appointment with the Embassy to get Happy's visa and reserve her plane ticket (the airline also requires a pp #).  Happy's passport is scheduled to be printed this week.  

Um, God. that was quick!!  And I guess this means we ARE in conversation together. 

Of course, until I get that passport number I am still in limbo. But there is nothing more I can do and I've told God what I need.  I have to let it go.  He'll provide me the strength as I hand over my weaknesses to Him. For now, that is all I have energy to do. 

~Shae

 

Shae's log: For the world-Whitney. For me- Ewaldi.

One of the few stretches of decent road on Kili.

Yesterday, I attended the funeral of Happy’s father, Ewaldi Augustino Ngowi.  It took a few days of planning but once the day came, we were fully committed to the process and the day started very early.  My housegirl Pendo came over after 7 a.m. to get Happy ready as I had to go into town and pay the balance on the coffin and make sure everyone was there and ready for transport.  Six men walked the coffin from the coffin makers to the mortuary of the hospital next door.  I went home and collected Happy, Pendo, and Uchumi (on the way out) and we drove the almost 3 hour journey to the Ngowi family home in the lower rungs of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Some of the little children in the villages on the way were bright eyed and calling out “mzungu”.  It doesn’t bother me as much when mountain village kids call it out because they do it with wonderment as its literally the first time they have seen a blonde haired, white woman driving through their village!!! 

Yes, it looks cloudy because that was the haze of dust!  

We followed the truck carrying the casket.  Our journey started around 9:30 as it required this truck, a dalla dalla, my car, and two coaster buses full of mourners from Arusha.  Of course, the road is rocky and dusty and TOUGH to get up to the family home. At some point, the buses stopped and made the travelers walk another 20 minutes to reach destination. I am still shocked the buses made it as far as they did. 

Carrying the casket through the brush and corn fields to the family home.

There were easily 100 people in attendance.  More than even I suspected.  The family is Catholic and so the service had a very beautiful religious tone.  Upon arrival, Ewaldi’s mother was crying and screaming out to God for quite some time at the arrival of her son’s casket.  It broke my heart into a million pieces.  Funerals in Tanzania are quite the spectacle.  And not in the ‘freak show’ kind of way.

Julius and Kelvin-- Happy's brothers.

Rather that it is a sole time for Tanzanians to truly release all their emotions about death, and life, and anything else that has been pint up and not readily discussed.  It is an acceptable moment to just GRIEVE. Because tomorrow there is too much daily work to be done, too much hardship to overcome, and no room for sadness or depression.  All must be processed quickly.  And so the displays of sobbing, of hugging, and dare I say it—quick kisses!—have to be done on funeral day.  This is it.

Friends

The harsh realities of death in Tanzania.

Happy being a complete trooper!

It was hot but Happy was a great little girl.  We sat through a multi hour funeral and with the exception of not wanting anyone to hold her, she did great! 

Kingston’s father (Uchumi)went with us.  I haven’t seen much of him since December, but he was a help to me this week and offered to go with me to the funeral.  We had a good journey up there (save for a tiny spat at the beginning!) and he took my camera as he wanted to capture photos for me.  It was a very kind gesture and I know how much he loves playing with my camera.  I have to admit that he took some good photos that would have been hard for me to do as family and Happy were ushering me around. And of course, all the guests were sobbing for Ewaldi and wanted to know how his daughter (Happy) was doing and so I tried to keep focus on that for everyone’s sake.  The family asked Uchumi to see if I wanted to speak.  I had nothing prepared but Uchumi said during their time of praising and thanks I should speak since they asked.  My housegirl agreed.  It’s a big deal.  I quickly prepared the following and waiting until the time in the service to have this delivered.  Knowing that it would be translated I tried to be concise but in theme with what the family had asked for.  It went like this:

“My warmest greetings to you all.  I met Happy Ngowi in June 2010.  Months later I was blessed to come to this very place and meet many members of her family.  I thank them for their kindness. Even though Ewaldi could not be with us at that time, I prayed over this last year that Happy and I would have a good greeting with him one day.  Last month, we were so happy to meet each other, talk, and take pichas together.  Ewaldi gave his blessings that Happy should live with me and it was an answer from God.  Of course, today is a sad time. But we are all blessed to have known Ewaldi, and God leaves us with the gifts of faith, hope, and love.  Many blessings to his family and to you all. Thank you. “

Nice right? Completely in line with what is supposed to be said at a Tanzanian funeral.  I thought it was strange that there was no reaction regarding blessings as that is a big thing.  This was a very Christian group of Tanzanians.  But whatever, this is not about me.  No big deal. UNTIL the pastor asks “who is this women?  Why does she have the baby in Arusha?  Where is Happy’s real mother?  The real mother must come forward today.”  I had my housegirl quickly translate for me what the pastor was saying because I was SURE I was understanding wrong.  She told me and it kinda’ felt awkward.  Ewaldi’s brother Richard quickly stood up and took the mic and explained that Happy’s mother had abandoned her at 3 months old and that this women (meaning me) had cared for Happy all this time.  Exclaims of praises to God and gasps went up in the room and mixed looks of smiles and confusion were sent my way.  And at this point, I still thought it was weird that they had this reaction to what he said and NOT to what I said.  But whatever, the funeral went on and the service was really beautiful.  I felt so sad for his sobbing sisters as his casket was carried from the service site to the burial hole.  But it was beautiful to walk through the woods and corn fields to the edge of the family property to properly lay Ewaldi into the ground.  I was asked along with other family members and friends to throw dirt into his coffin and Happy participated.

Self explanatory.

Happy and I throwing dirt into the ground.

The priest adding his blessings.

A small sampling of all those who came.

 Family members and a friend.

In 10 minutes, the 6 foot hole was recovered.  Amazing.

Laying flowers on his grave.

Talking with Bibi- Ewaldi's mother/Happy's gran

After his burial and upon witnessing the most amazing scene of them filling his coffin within 10 minutes (in that high heat, blazing sun, and shovels only, I was IMPRESSED!) we started back up through the property to the family home.  I was having some serious nerve pain in my hip and it was well after 4 p.m. so we decided to go home.  But then the downpour of rain!  God had held it off until the conclusion of the funeral.  God is amazing.  We all huddled under crude canopies that was erected for sun block and waited out the rain storm.  The sisters found me under the tarp and pulled me out to usher me into their mother’s shack to wait out the storm.  It was so unnecessary but sweet.  But I did get to spend a little time with Happy’s BiBi (grandmother) and give her a book of pictures I had just had printed for her.  It was amazing to see her and Happy together! After the 15 minute rain, everyone sat to eat the provided meal but we headed home.  Several family members walked us out and I got a great picture of Happy and her brothers.  It was awesome for the three of them to meet.  The only surprising thing that I discovered is that her brothers thought that their mother was Happy’s mother.  You see, they don’t live with their mom and have been raised by the grandparents.  And Ewaldi and his wife (their mom) had been living in another city when Happy was born so the boys were under the belief that she was born to their mother—not acknowledging that their parents had actually been apart for years! We were all shocked to learn that NO ONE had explained to the boys the situation.  Tanzania frustrates me because its hard to get truths out of anyone… because  no one actually KNOWS the truth!!! 

Kelvin, Happy, and Julius.  They are one beautiful bunch!

Any way, we said our goodbyes, I offered my very American hugs, and we loaded the car and headed down the mountain.  I immediately apologized to Uchumi that he had so much to translate for me earlier.  I asked him what he ended up saying and when he told me I thought it was a joke. I turned around to ask my housegirl Pendo what she heard him translate and she corroborated what he said.  She explained that he translated my beautiful speech into this:

“Yes, this is the woman who lives with the baby in Arusha.  She say that she met Happy’s family in 2010.  Yes, she met Ewaldi last month in Arusha and took him to Moshi.   She is also the woman who took care of Ewaldi in the hospital in Arusha when we was so sick.  Does anyone have words to ask her? Thank you.”

Um, WHAT?  Were they joking?  Where was the translation of feeling blessed to have met the whole family?  Where was the thanks for their hospitality?  And I never said ANYTHING about taking Ewaldi to Moshi OR caring for him at the hospital!  Everyone was told he died of Malaria—even though we all know he died from complications of AIDS.  But we don’t talk about it because that is the way it is here in Tanzania.  UGH! And no mention about GOD??? This is important that Happy lives with a Christian and now all these 100 people are whispering  “who is this woman?”  Its so insulting not to have thanked the family and Uchumi TOTALLY omitted this part.  I was so angry and started FREAKING out!  It explained so much!  I was so angry that I started to cry and of course, Uchumi made it all about him instead of realizing that it was really about the disrespect to the family and not me being angry at him for his HORRIBLE translating.  I knew he was bad at understanding me, I just thought he’d drop a few things or translate the sentiment and not the word for word.  But this?  Oh.  Disgrace.  And I have to take the blame because I was listening to him translate and it sounded weird but I thought it was my lack of understanding Kiswahili. And if I spoke the language, this would not have been a problem.  The realization that I had sounded like an ungrateful guest and that I had not properly addressed the family made me feel terrible for them.  I was a black spot in their very emotional day of burying their son.  Oh my goodness.  This was bad.  REALLY bad.  My blood pressure was up for the three hours home and Uchumi and I screamed at each other for a good hour as he was mad that I was upset and I was pissed that he was making this about him and not realizing the ripple effect of bad things that could happen from this!  Very much, people in attendance could see me as a bad person and not want Happy to live with me.  They could see this as a disrespect to the family.  They could very much remember this when the memory should have been of Ewaldi. And advise the family against the hard work we've all done over the last two years!  AAAHHH!

Its been 18 hours and I’m still upset.  But I’ll write an apology.  I’ll have someone I trust translate it, then I’ll text it to the family as mail isn’t really an option here.  If I wasn’t so pregnant now I would drive the 3 hours back to the family home and greet his parents with apology.  But whats done is done and I don’t have that option.  I’ll just pray that God inspires in everyone important what I intended to say and not what they heard.  He has that power.  I just will never forget this as long as I live and will forever feel awful whenever I see his family.

Anyway, on a day when the world was mourning a pop star who was lost due to her self inflicted pain, 100 of us in Tanzania were mourning the life of a man who was taking away by a cruel, unforgiving disease.  The juxtaposition of Whitney’s event and Ewaldi’s is striking.  But this is how the world works.  It’s a day I will never forget. 

~Shae

A beautiful capture of the sentiment of the day.  Ewaldi's Father has his head down.

Shae' log: the last third

With all the commotion surrounding the funeral of Happy's father, I failed to realize that I had entered into my third trimester of pregnancy.  However, the hourly contractions for the last 8 hours has quickly reminded me that indeed, there's a baby in there.

Congratulations little boy on making it this far.  If we are able to go to America next month, you can do whatever you want.  But while we are in Africa, please stay in.  You are not ready to come out.  Trust me.

Love,

Mom

Shae's log: "...until the nights run out."

If you are still married and madly in love with the father of your children...

If you are divorced but maintain a friendly relationship with your kids' dad...

If you have conceded that he was only your 'baby daddy'...

Then you can probably understand what I am feeling right now.

In my previous blog I said that I would go every night and take care of Happy's father "until the nights run out."  Well today at 1:30 p.m., that is exactly what happened.  I got the call that Happy's father, Ewaldi Augustino Ngowi, had passed away.  I wanted so badly to hold back my emotions but somehow the tears kept quietly falling out of my eyes and slipped down my cheeks.  When I reached the top of my stairs, my housegirl Pendo was choking back tears while sweet Happy girl sat giggling in her arms.  Happy was all smiles at seeing me walk through the door and immediately ran for me to pick her up.  I tried to dry up my eyes but I found it was fairly futile.  As I got tissue from the bathroom, Happy ripped it out of my hands and did something that is actually so in character for her little soul.  She flipped my glasses off my face (thought they might break as they crashed to the floor. Ooops!), took the tissue to my tears, and then proceeded to stuff the paper up my nose to wipe it clean.  It was such a beautiful and sweet moment. In years to come she will understand the significance of those tears and how poignant her little two-year-old actions were today.  But for now, she just thought she was taking care of her mama in the exact same order I take care of her tears.  It was so touching that it made me want to cry more.  But I didn't.

I quickly gathered myself and rushed to the hospital to meet with the rest of Happy's family.  As we gathered together and moved our collective to Happy's uncle's house, more family members arrived --to my joy.  Of course, the occasion was solemn but the affections shared by each member that I had only seen from time to time was so needed. With the help of one of their friends who speaks beautiful English, we were all able to come to some decisions regarding Ewaldi's funeral and transport of his body.  I was so moved by their welcoming spirit.  It was made very clear that I was not there as a money machine.  I would help, sure, but every friend and family member chips in cash to cover burial expenses.  I explained that since Happy is so young, I must be there as a representative for her.  They all agreed that pictures were appropriate as she would want to know how we all came together in honor of her father.  It was so moving for me.  And heartbreaking.
Nomatter that limited time I had with Ewaldi, it is time that I will cherish for Happy.  He was so obviously intelligent.  And when sober and sound, a true gentle spirit.  His english, though limited, was so clear and beautiful.  I am forever grateful for his gifts-- both in the existence of Happy and his advocating for her to be my child. Nomatter how we feel about the men who father our children, we must give credit for they are part of the creation.  And even before I met him, I thought of him often.  Now he will always have a specific place in my heart.

The very last things he said to me after all the "business" was talked about, as he knew his time was ending, were these words:

"Tell me about Shae."

I held his hand as I spoke in English and my friend translated to make sure he understood every word.  I told him how spending these days with him was a privilege for me.  I told him about the success he brought to the adoption.  I told him about Happy's day and how already she looks at his pictures and says "baba, baba".  I told him she knows who he is as much as she knows me.  He smiled really big. He tried to squeeze my hand, and his VERY last words to me were this:

"Congratulations".

I gave him a half hug and left for the evening.  The next night (the 14th) was a difficult one as his breathing was labored and he could barely speak.  He stared at me.  Not creepily.  Not with confusion.  But with gratefulness and, dare I say it, honor.  As I fed him, I wondered if he knew it was me but there was no one to translate.  But then I heard him tell his sister that I had come again-- as if he was surprised-- but it was in Kiswahili and I didn't want to push him to try to think about translating his words to talk to me in English.  I eventually gave the food to his sister, and I propped him up and held his body as he was too weak to sit up on his own.  As the smell of death emoted from his skin, I kind of knew that night might be my last time to see him alive.  And I as I made plans this morning to come to the hospital equipped with materials to give him a bath tonight, there was a part of me that wondered if tonight would be our last time together.  But alas... our nights ran out.

I am devastated beyond words for my daughter.  AIDS has robbed her from ever knowing, smelling, feeling, touching, and hearing her father at a time when she would be old enough to remember.  The pain I feel for her is so great that its almost too much for me to bare.  Losing our parent while we are adults is horrific.  But we have a lifetime of memories to share and reflect.  Losing a parent before you are even old enough to talk-- well-- thats just cruel.    My only comfort is that he is with God now.  No, I don't believe that he is in heaven looking down over us.  That is not how I view death.  What I mean is that his fate is in God's hands.  I believe that one day upon our Lords return, we the living and the dead will raise up to heaven together.  And I have to believe that God will not leave Ewaldi behind.  And that is the only thing that I can teach my daughter to bring comfort to a situation that makes no sense.

In peace, Ewaldi Ngowi will now rest.  In faith, I will continue on the earthly fight for the life of his daughter.  And I'll be "happy' to do it.

~Shae

Happy, Baba Happy (Ewaldi), her auntie Editha and cousin Sharon. Only 1 month ago. A picture our family will cherish forever!