This page answers three Frequently Asked Questions

1. Why are you adopting?

{my age is somewhere >37}
PLUS
{no husband + no immediate prospect + no desire to run out and snag a man for the sole purpose of a baby}
PLUS
{near-fatal reaction to being on the pill, which means pregnancy is risky for me}
MINUS
{any requirement that my child to be of my own DNA or to look like me}
PLUS
{lifelong desire to be a parent}
MINUS
{all remaining patience}
=
I’m adopting!

2. Why Ethiopia?

I’m adopting from Ethiopia for many reasons.

When the social worker who did my home study (the document that basically approves me to adopt) asked me this question, I gave her a long answer – it’s hard to explain in a sentence or two.

We talked about the situation here in the U.S. I told her that I am aware that there are dozens of prospective parents vying for each child who is made available for adoption here. (And for Caucasian children, it’s bordering on obscene – prospective parents all but begging for the chance to raise someone else’s white child.)

So I chose not to join the masses trying to adopt here in the U.S.

And with that, I knew I was going to be looking internationally.

I explained that Ethiopia was actually the first place I thought of from which to adopt. But, true to form, I spent months and months doing research about every available option. (I am all about the research.)

After all that research, I still wanted to go with Ethiopia, largely because health and age were my two biggest factors – I want a child who is healthy, and age 6 months or younger when I bring him/her home.

And almost as important was the fact that I love Africa – I have traveled there four times (though sadly not yet to Ethiopia), and feel a real connection that I can’t really explain. So, I would be excited to get to incorporate Ethiopian culture into my life. And I would love to bring my child back to Ethiopia someday – I don’t need much of an excuse to go there!!

I told her that I had concerns about raising a Black child in my mostly-white community. And I said that, ultimately, my fears about FAE/FAS and attachment disorders (which exist everywhere there are Caucasian children available for adoption internationally) outweighed my fears about the racial issues.

And I even revealed a bit of my own vanity and admitted that the fact that Ethiopians are just freakin’ gorgeous is a factor – embarrassing, but true – part of me would relish the chance to bask in the reflected beauty from my child.

I told her that, since I don’t feel it is critical for me to have a kid who looks like me, and am willing to do the work necessary to race a child of another race, I thought I’d chuck the color thing right out the window go with the program that let me have my kid as young as possible, and from a place & culture in which I have genuine interest.

Finally, a factor I would like to omit, but cannot: there is a child in Ethiopia who may only have a family if I adopt him or her.

I do not want my child to be viewed as a charity case. Nor do I want to be viewed as some kind of extra-good person for adopting him or her. So I tend to de-emphasize this piece. But, my social worker reminded me that it was an important part of my decision-making, so I shouldn’t pretend it was not.

I could go on forever about the situation in Ethiopia and what needs to be done, but here’s the quick-and-dirty version: The latest research says there are between 5 and 6.5 million orphans in Ethiopia. 5 to 6.5 million.

It is indisputable that these children would be better served by an adoption within their own culture and country. It is also indisputable that there are not enough people in Ethiopia to adopt all these kids. In the meantime, the majority of Ethiopian orphans will die, or will survive for some time in poverty, disease, and hunger.

A tiny fraction of these orphans will get adopted by people from other countries, and will miss out on their Ethiopian culture. This is indeed a significant loss, and a life away from one’s homeland and biological family is definitely a life compromised. But it’s a whole lot better than no life at all.

There is a child in Ethiopia who needs a family. Coincidentally, so do I.

3. How much did your child cost?

OK, you know how when you have a kid in the old-fashioned biological way, it’s not exactly free to do that?

You pay the Ob/Gyn, you pay the anesthesiologist, you pay for sonograms and lab tests, you pay for birthing classes, you pay the hospital, you pay and you pay and you pay.

And yet, no one would ever think to ask you “how much did your baby cost?”

That would be ridiculous!! Everyone knows you didn’t BUY your baby – you paid the costs of the services required to bring the child into this world and into your family.

OK, so now – about this adoption thingy.

I’m not actually buying a child. So please don’t ask me how much my kid cost.

I am paying – much like a biological parent – for the services of lots of organizations, agencies, and individuals required to bring the child into my family.

  • I will pay the adoption agency;
  • I will pay a different agency to hire a social worker write my “home study” (which is basically an thorough background check and research about me and my home to confirm that I am qualified to adopt) and then to write four follow-up reports for the Ethiopian government (“post-placement reports” after I return home with my baby ;
  • I will pay notaries to notarize five sets of each of the 19 documents I must provide to my agencies.
  • I will pay the City in which I live for five copies of a letter stating that I have a clean record;
  • I will pay the County in which I was born for five copies of my birth certificate;
  • I will pay the State of California for a criminal background clearance and fingerprint check;
  • I will pay for the FBI to run my fingerprints against a federal criminal database;
  • I will pay the U.S. Department of Homeland Security for a review of all of the above and to grant a favorable determination that I can adopt a foreign national;
  • I will pay to have documentation of all of the above to be assembled into my “dossier” and checked by my adoption agency;
  • I will pay to have my dossier translated into Amharic (the official language of Ethiopia) and then blessed by the Ethiopian consulate in Washington D.C.;
  • I will pay to send my translated dossier to Ethiopia by special courier;
  • I will pay for airline tickets to Addis Ababa, and housing for 3 weeks while I am there and then (very happily) I will pay for a plane ticket home for my child;

(etc., etc.)

If you really want to know the gory details, I have a spreadsheet (natch).

Which I will be happy to share, but don’t want to post.