February 22, 2011 marks the day that Josh and I picked up Mercy from her orphanage in Addis Ababa, her first home. This is the day we officially became a family of three. I won’t ever forget the confirmation call from our lawyer that we were all set to pick her up.
Just got off the phone with our lawyer- We can go pick up Mercy!
After we hung up, Josh and I took a long walk outside, trying to comprehend that after all these years of praying and months of waiting, we were going to be a family. We were going to have our baby girl with us at all times, be responsible for her baths and meals and snuggles and naps, for changing her and reading to her and helping her feel safe and loved. It was a sobering walk. We’d had our moments of jumping up and down, but in these few moments before everything changed, we wanted to stop and think, to absorb what was happening and not to miss the significance of this day because of our emotions. Our sweet daughter, who’d spent time with us on only three prior occasions, would say good-bye to the only nannies and crib and friends and formula and noises and smells and surroundings she had ever known to join Josh and I at our guest house for a few weeks and then travel across the ocean to America, her new home. Everything up to this point seemed to have taken so long, then suddenly everything seemed to be changing so fast. In what would certainly seem like a blink of an eye she would leave one world and enter into another, through no choice of her own, without anyone asking her opinion. We grieved for her and cried over the many losses and transitions in the first six months of her precious life.
I won’t forget that taxi ride to the orphanage; fifteen minutes of deep breathing, of big smiles, or trembling hands. We pulled past the blue gates into the peaceful orphanage, where no one would have noticed that three lives were about to change. We were greeted by the staff and quickly briefed by the nurse. We signed paperwork releasing Mercy into our permanent care and then paced outside of the waiting room, hoping to catch the earliest possible glimpse of Mercy being carried one last time by her nanny from her room. I didn’t have my camera out, I wasn’t even thinking about documenting the moment, only of being fully present in it.
Mercy's first home
The Blue Gates of Toukoul Orphanage
After what felt like hours, we saw her. Beautiful, small and surely scared, snuggled in the safe arms of a woman who loved and looked after our daughter in our absence. And then she placed Mercy in our arms. Just as simple as that. We hugged and thanked the nanny. We were told to come back the next day to return the clothes she was wearing, to pick up all of Mercy’s medical records and to receive a gift for Mercy from the orphanage staff. And then they were gone; the nurse, the administrator and the nanny. Our taxi driver patiently leaned on his bright blue car one hundred yards away. The sky was clear and blue. Traffic and construction noises drifted over the gate nearby. Time stood still.
Josh and I looked at Mercy as though for the very first time, willing our eyes to communicate, “You can trust us. We love you. You are in good hands. We are your mom and dad and we will do everything we possibly can to nurture, protect and provide for you. I know this is scary. In so many ways it is unfair. And yet by God’s loving, sovereign mercy, the three of us have been brought together for such a time as this, to be a family. Here we go, little Bear….” We gingerly placed Mercy in the Bjorn and I crawled into the backseat with her snuggled to my chest, as Josh buckled the seat belt around us both. He got into the front seat and off we went, bumpity-bump, bumpity-bump. The windows were down. It was hot and humid. Our driver kept looking at us in his rear-view mirror. Josh managed to snap a few pictures by which to capture this momentous car ride and soon enough we were back where we had started not one hour ago.
We quietly walked past the reception room at our guest house, past dozens of kind and inquisitive guests and staff, straight up the marble stairs and into the privacy of our room, our home away from home. First things first, we took off her borrowed dress, top and tights and gave her a bath in the sink. She smelled so clean and was so soft. We placed her on our bed where she promptly fell fast asleep. Eventually we got her into some pajamas and set her into the crib, staring at her for hours. And so it began. Each day better than the last. Every day a gift.
Our first family photos*:
Happy Forever Family Day!
*These great pictures were taken by none other than Nina Mullins.
