One month from today I’ll be back in Uganda a
trip that I had planned on taking this past March but due to a new job and a
move that same month a trip to UG did not happen. I haven’t blogged since I
left Uganda when I was wrought with emotion. Many of you probably don’t know this
but I’m not inherently a crier…my siblings could probably tell you how many
times they have seen me cry, friends who have known me most of my life the
same. The night I left Uganda it was ugly as I was hugging my dear friends
Josephine and Jack goodbye it took all I had to walk into the airport, check my
bags and clear customs. I remember the words of the Customs lady “oh a lot of
people cry when they leave Uganda, but you can come back anytime”. “okkkkkkkkkkkk.” I said, through big ugly
crocodile tears.
When I came back to the US I was bound and
determined to find a way to make adopting Mahadi a reality. I had come off the
road, I was looking for a “real” job and a place to call my own, you know so
when the US social worker started to do their evaluation of my life they’d see
that I wasn’t a swinging bachelorette traveling 200 days/year and but instead a
responsible 9-5er with the ability to provide stability for a little boy. I
also contacted numerous adoption agencies in the US none who were willing to
take a case of a single woman wanting to adopt a boy in Uganda. Uganda only
allows single women to adopt girls, not that it hasn’t happened where a single
woman has adopted a boy but the cases are few and exceptional. US Adoption
agencies want a slam dunk not a challenge, which I understand. But I would get
so pissed when they’d say oh but you can adopt a girl, I’d reply back I’m sorry
but I don’t believe you read my email, this little boy right here in this
photo, he’s mine.
As I learned more about international
adoption I also learned that US immigration would not classify Mahadi as an
orphan because both of his parents are still alive. Attempting to adopt Mahadi
would require asking them to relinquish their parental rights, a request I’m
not prepared to ask. A large part of this next trip is to spend time with
Mahadi’s mother. I want to learn about her and her life. Many, most, all of us
westerners don’t understand the sheer poverty in third world countries until
we’ve seen it with our own eyes and even then I’m not sure we can fully grasp
the choices that have to be made on a daily basis for many in other nations.
I also emailed with a woman who is “in” the
orphan industry so to speak and one of the last points she said to me “It is not
wise to separate a child from his siblings. While this may seem ok now,
the implications of that are far reaching over time for all parties
involved. I have seen many cases where the youngest child is adopted away
from siblings, and it is very damaging to the children left behind and
eventually to the adopted child. And, the issues continue throughout the
child's life. I don't think that is something you would wish to be a part
of.”
Of all the points she made, that one had the biggest impact. Is it right
for me to take a child out of his environment to give him what I deem a
healthier, happier life? What emotional damage could he sustain?
When Josephine came to visit last fall I asked her to start the process to
get Mahadi’s birth certificate. Many people in Africa do not have birth
certificates because they aren’t born in hospitals. I wanted to make sure we
had copies of Mahadi’s birth certificate if only so when he turns 18 it is
easier for him to leave the country, whether to go to college or to come to
visit. Imagine my delight when I saw the picture of Mahadi holding his birth
certificate and his birthday unknown to me until then, March 28, 2008…just 31
years and 6 days after my first birthday. Both Aries.
In August the Monday of Bonnie’s wedding week, I received an email from
Josephine and it hit me like a brick…someone a girl from Australia wanted to
adopt Mahadi. As I read the email in my office, it felt as if I had been kicked
in the stomach, the room was spinning and I was trying to not throw up all over
myself. The pragmatic in me brought the room back from
a tailspin and said “what if she’s married? What if she could provide him a
better life than I could?” That lasted for 4.2 seconds and then I started
looking for jobs in Uganda. If Bonnie’s wedding had not been that week, I’m
fairly certain I would have been on a plane to Uganda that week. But once I
learned more specifically that she was single, I didn’t feel I needed to flee
for Uganda that day. Also knowing that nothing moves fast in Uganda ...my dear friend Jen reassured me what I already knew, Mahadi would not be leaving for Australia
on the next Qantas flight. I promised that this news would not ruin my sister’s
wedding week. I only told a few people this story…I also didn’t want to cause a
witch hunt amongst all of my loyal FB friends who I’m fairly certain would
protect Mahadi to the death as much as I would.
I affectionately call the other woman the Mahadi-napper to my
friends…she and I are now FB friends..so she will read this and now know her
nickname. SO BE NICE..PEOPLE. My biggest
concern when I found out the Mahadi-napper was interested in Mahadi was I
didn’t want him to become a commodity to his family. Based on some
conversations I have had with my Ugandan friends I think we have avoided that
and I hope we continue, because the last thing I want a poverty stricken family
to see is dollar signs when looking at their children.
There are many days I consider moving to
Uganda. But I love my new city and I really enjoy my job and the life that I’m
creating here in the Bay Area. I’m not sure what my life would look like for
both me and Mahadi in Uganda. If I moved to Uganda and made a commitment to be
Mahadi’s everyday Mama…what would happen if I had to come back to the US
for any length of time? Leave him there? What if I didn’t come back to Uganda,
then what? I wouldn’t be able to take
him out of the country. The very last thing I want to do is cause any more
emotional damage to this little boy.
The answers to our story are not simple and
only time will tell how our lives will develop, but I do know the universe had
something in store the day I laid my eyes on the photo of those two little
“girls” in 2009.
The next 30 days are jam packed to say the
least but I’m counting the minutes until I cross the Uganda customs line and
see Josephine and Jack on the other side…two of the three best smiles in
Uganda.
I also can’t wait to share the first 6 days
with my friend Judy Wheeler. Wheeler is in for an adventure and I can’t wait to
see how her eyes are opened to an experience of a lifetime…but not a “once in
lifetime” experience. More on Wheeler in my next blog…I can guarantee you there
will be some Thelma and Louise with a dash of Lucy and Ethyl kinda moments with
the two of us in the UG.
Cheers!
April
