Alayah: A Day In A Life

It has been another few months since my last post. I know.  I should confess that facebook really does make things easy when it comes to posting updates.  The one thing I think I will miss out on if I don't keep up with blogging, is having an updated family journal.  Keeping that in mind, I hope to be a bit more consistent.  :/ I guess we will see.

 

So what has been going on?  Much has been going on around here.  I thought I would dedicate this post to Alayah since she just turned six!!

 

Six.

It's happening.  She is growing up so quickly, as children do.  I like to think back on her earlier days with us.  It's hard to imagine where she has come from and where she is now! Not too long ago, her journey began when a van brought her to a state orphanage in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Alayah, now that she is a bit older, is able to give us more pieces to her story.  I thought I would share some of those pieces.

Her journey to us begins with a van....She remembers her Abba and Aya (father and mother) putting her on a van to go on vacation.  I'm not certain that the woman was really her mother.  However, she remembers very clearly that the woman was wearing a blue shirt with an orange cat on it and a white skirt with pink flowers.  Her Abba was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, tucked in his pants with a belt.   She said she got on a van with other children and Abba and "Aya" left on a school bus.  When asked what she did on the van, she said she got sick (motion sickness).  I asked her about the other children on the van and she said some were coloring in books and others were crying. It breaks my heart when I try to picture that scene.

I remember very vividly riding to the Embassy in a van while in Ethiopia.  She might have been sick from the motion (I know I was), she grabbed hold of the bars on the window and yanked at them while crying inconsolably.  Today, it makes a lot more sense.  Riding in a van brought separation anxiety to this poor child.  And although we were with her, she might have thought we were taking her to another "big building." We knew at the time that she wanted out of that van.  There is no other explanation for her urgent attempts to get out.  When we arrived at the embassy, she sat in my lap, enjoying a lollipop while the other children played.  She did not get off my lap.  It was hot in the little room we were packed in (a couple of other adoption agencies had appointments that day).  Alayah sat on my lap, touching my face.  She would lean over and touch Steve's face while making cooing noises.  I tried several times to coax her off my lap to play with the other children.  She would let both feet touch the floor for a mere second before climbing back on my lap, a single arm wrapped around my neck.

We, Steve and I, struggled during our stay in Ethiopia.  Alayah was confused, as would be expected, and acted out in ways that made sense to her, but not to us.  We were mentally exhausted.  We felt worn down.  Alayah did not want anything to do with anybody else.  While the other families were bonding and making connections, Alayah would not leave our hotel room.  When we did coax her out, she cried, making it less enjoyable for others.  So we eventually holed up in our room.  One particular day, the parents would be going shopping to buy some souvenirs.  We didn't think we would have that opportunity.  The other children were taken back to Hannah's Hope (children home), so that the Special Mother's could care for them, while the parents were out.  We didn't think Alayah would understand that, she was much older than the other children.  Knowing that we were emotionally tired, our director encouraged us to do some shopping; to get out for a bit.  We took Alayah back, she stepped out of the van with much reservation.  The caretakers explained to her, better than we could, that we would be back.  She still cried. 

We were gone for a couple of hours and it was definitely a much needed outing for Steve and I. Although we felt refreshed, we anticipated the worst.  We were humbly surprised by her reaction by our return.  As we reached the landing of the stairs and turned the corner, we saw her standing on the second floor with a special mother. 

When our eyes met and I offered a smile, she quickly released the special mother's hand and flew down the stairs to embrace me.  When I looked up at Steve, I found him stifling sobs.  It was confirmed on this day, she wanted to be with us just as much as we wanted to be with her.

Any doubts that we had were quickly replaced with knowing God sent us to her.  This fact carried the three of us all the way home, no matter how terrifying it all seemed.  And since then, we continue to marvel at how well she has blended into our family.  Almost as though she has always been here.  She is a real blessing.  To think of all we would have missed if we never returned to reunite with her after our shopping.  Thank you God, for carrying us through all our fears.  Thank you God, for all your promises.  Thank you God, for picking us!