Rough Day and Dropping like Flies

Today was the big day of visiting the government-run orphanages. We'd read from previous blogs that it's pretty difficult, so we'd been preparing ourselves. We started the day with a great leisurely breakfast. We found out at breakfast that we'd be meeting Nevaeh's birth mom at lunch. Scott and I knew that we were going to meet her sometime, but we weren't sure when. We had told Belay that we'd like to take her to lunch, rather than just at the Gladney house. We thought this would make it a little easier. The husband of one of the couples was apparently hit by a "having to run to the bathroom by the Big D, and we don't mean Dallas." Upon arriving to Addis, we had asked our driver about people getting sick and he pretty much said everyone gets sick, so one down.

We then headed off to Kolfe Boys Orphanage. I had seen pictures, so I felt as prepared as possible. The boys all crowded the cars as we entered the compound. I was overwhelmed by their genuine friendliness. Despite all of their hardships, they were incredibly warm and extremely inviting. One of the boys immediately took Nevaeh from me and held her the rest of the visit. Scott went off to play soccer (get schooled in soccer) while I went to play ping pong. (Soccer and the ping pong table (which is outside) are the two things they have.) Three of the boys were so excited for me to see where they stayed. Each had one bed with a blanket, all neatly made, but that was it. None of the boys have any possessions at all. One of them did show me a letter from a visitor that he had received a few years ago, but that was all he had. I didn't even see any spare clothes for any of the boys. They were extremely proud of their vegetable garden, of which they only grow lettuce. Scott and I plan to head back there on Monday. We didn't have time to see the whole compound since we had to leave to meet our birth mom.

Our meeting was very emotional, but very beneficial to all parties. We're very glad that we decided to meet at a restaurant. This made it much easier, instead of being like a formal interview. The only thing that we'll share is that our birth mom had actually named Lulu, Yabesra, which means "work of God". The name "Lulu" was given to her by an American caregiver. Apparently, there were several non-Ethiopian caregivers where they were staying and none of them could pronounce Yabesra, thus the name Lulu. The rest we're going to keep private to ourselves and Nevaeh, so don't even bother asking.

If that wasn't enough of an emotional day, Nevaeh felt like she was coming down with a fever (#2 down) and we were still scheduled to visit two more government-run orphanages. We went to the Kebe (something or other) orphanage where they have the youngest kids. There we found out the husband of the other couple wasn't feeling so well either, so they had to go back (#3 down). By now one of each family is down. Hopefully not for long though. I was so not prepared for this orphanage. All of the kids came running out to see us, but not with any enthusiasm like the older boys, but more of curiosity. At this young age, they had all already had too much of life and it was clearly visible on their faces. Since there aren't enough caregivers, money, etc, all of the kids wore tattered, dirty clothes... The older boys at Kolfe were really a family and were tightly bonded. These young kids were barely holding onto any hope. We visited with them a fair bit (a few spoke some English), then we headed into the infant room. I could barely hold myself together. It was so bad, that Scott didn't even want to take pictures. They had about 20 cribs in a small room, some of which had some that looked to be just a week or two old. There were so many kids that the caregivers didn't have any time to really pay attention to any one child. They just moved from one crib to another, adjusting bottles, changing a diaper, etc. but no real interaction with them. There was one boy, just over one, who was sitting in his crib (of which he was too big for) and started to cry when I began petting his head. They were just the silent kind of tears, streaming down his face. It was like he knew that crying out loud wasn't going to do anything for him. The caregiver said we couldn't pick him up because then he wouldn't let us put him down. It was more than heartbreaking. I had to leave the building. At this point (I hate to say thankfully) Nevaeh really wasn't feeling well, so we headed back to the hotel. I don't think I could have handled the last orphanage after the other two and meeting our birth mom. We're going to try to visit it either Monday or Tuesday.

Nevaeh is now sleeping in the hotel crib with a dose of Tylenol to make her feel a bit better. Today was a very sobering day, one that I will never forget. Tomorrow should be much ligher, emotionally. We're going shopping, assuming Nevaeh is feeling better.