Last weekend, a few women and I hosted a couples baby shower to celebrate the imminent arrival of our friends’ fourth child. Their soon-to-be daughter was born in Ethiopia and still waits in the orphanage where she has lived since early infancy. She’s now a toddler.
News of how or whether the recent slowdown in Ethiopian adoptions will affect them still hasn’t arrived so – as is all too often the case in adoption – they are in a holding pattern of waiting, calling their agency, hoping, and praying. Their daughter is likely in need of some health interventions, may have some developmental delays, and – of course – our friends, their children, and their community of family and close friends are more than eager to start getting to know her. In other words, for many reasons, it’s excruciatingly hard for us all to wait…especially her parents and sisters.
But, as we wait, we decided to celebrate this little life. The other hosts and I decided that we would ask for “non-material” blessings to be given alongside (or instead of) gifts at the baby shower.
After everyone was settled with a plate of hors d’oeuvres and a drink, we took turns sharing our offerings. My nine year-old presented her “Aunt” and “Uncle” with a beautiful picture of a garden and trees with the words, “We are here for you” printed neatly along the bottom of the page. A friend read a poem about the gift of a new life. Another built a wooden keepsake box for our friends to store souvenirs and remembrances from their trips to Ethiopia. Still another created a scrapbook of jokes, silly pictures, and other things to make our friends and their children laugh in this sometimes painful time.
I wrote a poem which my husband read to our friends, friends with whom we have journeyed through the last few decades of our lives, through years before our children arrived, the births and adoptions of seven — going on eight — children, professional successes and lean times, and so much more.
Here’s a snippet of what I wrote for them:
You are our family – chosen family – but not chosen…
given to us by God
as friends, nurturers, fellow travelers.
Yours are children in whom we delight.
They are cousins and friends to our own,
relatives whose bloodline is alchemy of
shared histories,
celebrations,
mutual affection,
and trust:
real family.
As we await your fourth daughter,
we await another
divinely chosen child,
cousin,
friend.
We can’t wait to see what God has in mind for you,
and all of us
in bringing her, forever, to you.
Wishing comfort and patience to all who wait.
Jennifer Grant is a journalist and the author of Love You More: The Divine Surprise of Adopting My Daughter.
