Adoption Journey, Part 3

If you missed Part 1, click here!
If you missed Part 2, click here!

The ride to our daughter’s foster home was very short.  The neighborhood was placed on a hill, the houses similar to townhomes where each small block was filled with a row of homes sharing a wall.  Our driver couldn’t remember the exact turns so we wandered a bit. We were told to look for a green car. There--finally Kyle saw a green car just as we drove past it.  I turned to look just in time to see a woman--one who I had seen many times, whose voice I already knew from watching videos of our daughter over and over--step out onto the street, holding a little girl with a ponytail directly on top of her head.  A face I felt I had known for a century. We backed up and parked on the street. I climbed out and walked around to the sidewalk. “Hi Zeinab.” (I hope I’m saying it right). 

She shied away from us at first.  Her foster momma smiled and welcomed us into her home.  The door opened to a hallway. We were led to the first door on the left to a sitting room with a couch and chair, a table.  A rug. All things I had seen before while watching that video over and over and over. It was smaller than I’d envisioned, but so welcoming.  As I sat on the floor and began to engage this tiny little person in play, I was struck by how completely normal this seemed. Of course we were in Georgia, in the home of an Armenian family, playing with our Azeri daughter.  Where else would we be on October 6, 2018?

We decided to bring our daughter a different item each day to play with together as we got to know one another.  That first day we gave her a ladybug backpack with two books inside as well as a stuffed dog Matthew insisted on bringing for his new sister.  She loved to put the books into the bag and take them out again. She also loved playing with a pair of sunglasses Matthew brought. She was enamoured with her new big brother almost instantly that first day.  The most precious moment happened about 45 minutes into our visit that first day. Matthew held out his arms for a hug--and his long awaited sister happily threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Throughout the visit that first day and each day that followed, I was amazed and so very thankful that our daughter’s foster family was so welcoming.  Her foster momma spent time each day showing me what Zeinab liked to play and eat and how she got ready for a nap. She continually prompted Zeinab to play with us and reassured her when she was nervous.  She coached me on her schedule and routines. After loving and caring for this precious one year old girl for seven months, she held her out to us with open hands and blessed our lives by easing what could have been an incredibly difficult transition.

When Zeinab’s nap time arrived on Saturday, I took part in her bedtime routine and then we headed back to the guest house.  We were so exhausted at that point that we all napped. I woke up the boys around 5pm for snacks from our stash of granola bars, applesauce, crackers, peanut butter, etc.  As soon as our bellies were full, we crashed for the night.

On Sunday we woke up and got ready, meeting our facilitator downstairs for another breakfast of boiled eggs and sausage---ohhhh and that yummy yummy bread.  Instant coffee mixed into hot water got my blood moving, and the excitement of seeing our soon to be daughter again made jet lag vanish. We loaded into the car, wandered the streets again, and finally parked behind the green car.  The visit that day was pleasant, but unremarkable. We worked to draw our daughter out of her shell so that she would become more accustomed to us. Her foster momma always had fresh baked items to feed us, as well as Armenian coffee which comes in a tiny cup, is a dark gritty brown, and actually quite delicious (plus gave an excellent jolt of caffeine just when we needed it most)!  I was able to participate in Zeinab’s naptime routine again, and then we were on our way.

After leaving the foster family’s home, we stopped by a money exchange location and traded our US dollars for Lari.  From there we went to the Akhaltsikhe castle to do some sight seeing. The castle was originally built in the 9th century and was renovated just a few years ago.  The castle sat on top of a hill and could be seen from almost every part of the town. The views from the castle were breathtaking. The town could be seen in the valley below, surrounded by rolling foothills in every direction.

Later that evening we went out to eat in a local restaurant.  We asked our driver/interpreter to order something for us to try...and that’s when we were introduced to Khinkali.  Ohhhh khinkali. There is a Georgian restaurant in DC now and I can’t wait to go there just for some khinkali!! This traditional Georgian dish is essentially a dumpling filled with meat and greens.  It is juicy and oh so delicious! While we were eating, a group of young men turned the music up so loud and had some kind of dance off. We had a blast watching their fun!

After another night of sleep we followed a similar routine Monday: Breakfast, time with our girl, and sight seeing.  We had an opportunity to take our daughter for a walk in the neighborhood, just the four of us. Later we took her to a field to run and play with the beachball we had brought along.  That beachball was THE best toy we brought with us! We would inflate it for the visit and then release the air when we finished for the day.

That thing is still hanging on to life down in the basement where the kids play with it regularly. 

After our visit Monday we took a 2 hour trip to visit a place called the City of Vardzia. In the 12th century a city was dug directly into the side of a cliff. Once again the panorama was breathtaking. The cliff led down to a river valley that was lush and green.  Above us, the sky was a clear crystal blue with only a few cotton clouds. At the end of our tour of the cliff dwellings we walked through a tunnel that lead to a staircase which took us to a path and eventually to the water. Matthew insisted on putting his hand in the river.  It was icy cold.

Later we made our way back to Akhaltsikhe.  We visited another restaurant and had our first taste of khachapuri.  Mmmmm. Yummy Georgian cheese bread. That first night we tried Imeruli Khachapuri.  Ohhhhh so good. It was round like a pizza and the closest thing I can relate it to is cheese sticks from a pizza place? Or stuffed crust pizza---but where the whole circle is stuffed with cheese. Amazing. 

That night sleep was hard to come by because the next day was court.  We decided to take it slow Tuesday morning rather than trying to fit in a visit with Zeinab before court.  We had breakfast provided by our hostess, took our time getting ready, and lunch from our snack stash. We met at 2:30 to head to the courthouse across town.  I was so nervous. SO nervous. I remember holding Kyle’s hand so very tightly in the car on the way there. We dressed in our nicest outfits and reminded Matthew again and again to be on his very best behavior.

 When we arrived at the courthouse, we provided the security guard with our passports and took a seat on the bench in the lobby.  Soon other people arrived, including the man who would represent the Ministry, the group in Georgia who oversee orphan care and international adoption.  He was so friendly and kind--which was a relief, since his job was to represent Zeinab’s best interest in court. After a brief wait, we were escorted to a courtroom.  Matthew was with us, but we were told he wasn’t allowed in the courtroom! Sooo back to the lobby he went, my only child--sitting alone in the lobby of a courthouse in a foreign country, surrounded by people who spoke another language.  “Don’t worry, I watch him,” the security guard reassured me. I’m guessing my face was easy to read!  

The courtroom looked like any stereotypical courtroom.  A few rows of seats, a railed off area, two tables, one on each side of the room facing one another, the half wall, and the judge’s bench.  The ministry representative sat on the right side of the room (to the left of the judge), and we sat on the left side of the room. Our driver joined us as our interpreter and our facilitator stood as our representative.

The judge was an older man and wore a stern expression.  Conversation swirled around us as the hearing began. Occasionally our interpreter leaned over to fill us in on what was being said by the ministry official and our facilitator.  The judge informed us all that this was the very first adoption case he had overseen, and in fact the first adoption to take place in Akhaltsikhe. He thanked us for taking the time to come to their country to pursue adoption rather than sending a representative.  At some point he turned to the Ministry representative and asked why Zeinab was not being adopted in Georgia. His answer nearly brought Kyle and me to tears. The official explained that due to her medical needs, none of the 3,000 adoptive families in country were willing or able to adopt her. To be fully transparent, up until that point, we had each wondered if we were in the right place, doing the right thing.  After all, this little girl had already been through so much and was so happy in her current placement. Our arrival in her life would rock her world and flip it upside down! Were we just a couple of “wealthy Americans,” adopting a child who would be better off staying put? To realize that her only chance of a forever family was to be adopted internationally was heartbreaking, sobering, and also yet another confirmation that we were where the Lord wanted us to be. 

The judge only had one main question for us.  He wanted to know why we would adopt a child with medical needs.  He wasn’t happy until he was assured that we not only had the means to care for her, but believed she would bring great joy to our family.  He explained to us that his wife was once head of an orphanage in Tbilisi and he was greatly invested in ensuring we were the right placement for this little girl.  

Conversation continued around us and we waited to see what else would be asked.  Then, our facilitator leaned over…”It is done!” she said with a smile. “She is yours.”

That moment. Those words.  How can I even explain that miraculous minute in time.  When our prayer was answered, when an orphan was an orphan no more! It was hard to swallow, our eyes were full and our hearts exploding!

But we sat quietly!

The judge stepped out to finalize paperwork.  When he returned, he asked for her new name.

“Eliana Faith Kelley.”

Conversation proceeded without us for a few minutes.  The judge wanted her to keep her given name from birth.

We are grateful to this judge because his suggestion became our desire.  After spending four days with this little one and calling her Zein, Zena, and Zeinab, how could we remove that piece of her story?  But we knew Eliana Faith was her name, as well--My God has Answered. 

“Eliana Faith Zeinab Kelley.”  

And so a new person was made that day.  Her identity and name changed. No longer an orphan, no longer alone, no longer waiting for the next placement, no longer dependent on the state for care.  Now this child who God has always watched, as one cell became two, as her body took form, as she breathed her first breath, on her first night in the orphanage, when she took her first step, when she had chicken pox, when she traveled to a new city, when she met her foster family, when she met her forever family, this child, who God has always watched, whose days were written before a single one began, this child has a new identity.  She belongs to a family.  She is an answer to a million prayers from a thousand people.  Eliana has always been loved by God. Now she will be loved by a family that will love her forever.

The work was not done, however.  I hurried to the lobby to grab Matthew and tell him the judge said, “YES.”  He was so relieved! Then he told me a man tried to talk to him in the lobby “But don’t worry, Mommy! I knew he was a stranger so I didn’t answer.”

“What did the man say?”

“He asked if I was okay.”

“Was in the officer standing there?”

“Yes!”

Haha! So we talked about how some strangers are safe and how to tell which ones you can talk to.  I do love seven year olds!

From the courthouse we headed to get some food.  Khachapuri again. Yummmy! While there we got a call from the courthouse that the paperwork was READY!  So our facilitator and driver headed to the courthouse to pick that up and we all met at the Justice Building to apply for the birth certificate.  Unfortunately, about 30 minutes into that process we realized that their computer program would not ALLOW four names on the birth certificate...but the birth certificate HAS to match the court decree!!!  Our facilitator assured us she would work it out in the morning and we headed straight to the foster family’s home to see our daughter.

Our daughter!

Click here for Part 4!