Where's the pics?

What's a blog without pictures? "A boring blog", you may reply. We know that, but here's the scoop. When we entered the adoption process, we signed documents saying that we will not post or e-mail any pictures of Biruk until he is legally our son. The purpose of this is to make sure images of children are not used for unsavory purposes. Adoptions have fallen through because the Ethiopian government discovered that adopting parents had published photos, using them for fund raising or whatever. So, even though Biruk is now our son, we feel reluctant to put his pictures on a public blog until we actually have him.

But here's a funny story. We have been receiving pictures of Biruk since he was about 3 months old. And in every single picture, he has had the exact same expression...until last week. We received a batch of photos of Biruk last week, and my initial reaction was "That's not my child!" Biruk is called Biruk at the orphanage, but his legal name is Bereket, and there is more than one Bereket there, so I'm occasionally haunted by the fear that we'll accidentally get the wrong child.

The reason this new batch of photos didn't look like him to us is because he is smiling!...smiling and goofing around, and just having a great time, with hand and mouth and shirt sticky with some just-consumed treat. The smile totally transforms his face. And, the smile makes me realize that I really don't know who Biruk is yet. (This is where you think: "Hello, Christine! Of course you don't.")

I had built an image in my mind of this child based on photos and DVDs that we've received: quiet, serious, and somewhat tentative. He's someone who needs a mom to just hold him and snuggle with him. Fortunately, I'm realizing this week - not a moment too soon! - that I can't possibly know him from pictures alone. He may not even like snuggling, or at least not all the time, as my imaginary child does. So, in addition to the packing and organizing and last minute running around, I'm busy this week making room in my heart and mind for Biruk to be exactly the person he is. I can't wait to meet him!

We will start posting pictures to the blog either next Monday (July 6) or when the technology allows. In the meantime, pictures of the smiling Biruk can be seen now on Christine's Facebook page, which you can access if you belong to Facebook and are my "friend":

http://www.facebook.com/christine.brockett

The Countdown Begins

We're leaving in six days - on Saturday, July 4 - and the surreal "are we really going?" feeling is being replaced with a more urgent "we ARE going and we're not packed!" feeling. Helping with the mental shift, we set up Biruk's crib in our room, and now it's starkly obvious that someone is missing from our house.

In the past week, we got a lot of the big pieces in place: we have airline tickets, we know where we're staying, we know where Celie and Joey are staying, and we've determined definitively that small appliances like blow dryers and hair irons will not be part of the travel plan.

Now we're down to the less critical details, plus packing. After much research, we're downgrading our expectations, from being the most electronically wired couple in Addis Ababa, to thinking about taking along a few actual made-of-paper books.

But never fear, friends - we have a plan! The one thing that does work in Ethiopia (at least most of the time) is cell phones. So although we do have Plans A, B, C and D for sending e-mails and posting to the blog, Plan E is to have a ghost writer stateside and to "phone it in!"

What's In A Name

So, what's with the name "Go For Biruk"?

Well, for one thing, it's literally the story of going to get Biruk, an amazing little orphan boy of 21 months from Ethiopia, who is bravely coming to join our American family. This blog is the story of his epic journey.

But it also kind of sounds like "Go For Broke" --- "to wager everything" or, as I think of it, "no turning back", "damn the torpedos, full speed ahead!" That's a fitting allusion.

Thanks to consummate name-meister Dan for the name. I owe you 5 cents.