Congratulations are in Order

We are now officially the proud parents of Jeremy Arthur Phumlani Hoogstad!

Today, at about 12:30 pm we met our son for the first time. We got to hold him, and kiss him, and then we got to take him home! Glorify the Lord with us! Let us exalt His name together (Ps. 34:3 -- our family verse.)

I didn’t know how I’d feel, the first time seeing Jeremy. It’s something you picture over and over while you’re waiting. Today I felt a little nervous, and excited, and actually a little numb. But when Daphne, the woman at the baby house, handed him to me, a wave a emotion swept over me. My heart jumped to my throat and she placed him in my arms. It was incredible. Our eyes brimmed with tears and we held him tight, taking turns to hold our little guy. Marc and I spent an emotional time on the couch just looking at him, talking to him. He has the brightest eyes and the most adorable hairstyle. And HE SMILES! How incredible it is when you make your child smile! How even more incredible when you are meeting him for the first time and he breaks into a big wide grin; it’s makes you rejoice with all your heart. Unfortunately it was not possible for us to go into the baby house to see where Jeremy had lived the last three months. We would have liked to see his room and his crib and to meet his caregivers, but Daphne has promised to email us some pictures of those things so that when Jeremy is older he’ll be able to see where that part of his life took place.

After picking up Jeremy, we drove straight to the court. I was very nervous about the court, having never been to one before. But it was so relaxed. We met the magistrate in his office and basically watched him read our paperwork. He was very personable and very happy for us. Then he signed a lot of documents, looked up, and said, “Well, Congratulations are in order!” And that was that. We took a few pictures and brought our baby home. This afternoon has been wonderful. It was a relaxed, quiet afternoon just playing and talking and feeding and rocking Jeremy. He didn’t sleep much, but was content the whole time. Now, he’s sleeping peacefully in his “cot” as they call it here in S.A.

We are filled with gratitude to the Lord for what he has done for us. Jeremy's name means "Exalt the Lord!" And that is exactly what we are doing.

A Labour of Love

We’ve arrived! I write this from a cozy little room in the Westville Bed in Breakfast in Durban, South Africa. It’s 6:30 am here, 12:30pm in Sarnia. I have just slept for 9 hours and can sleep no more.

Once in this blog I referred to the plane ride to South Africa as our own kind of labour, the airport terminal as our delivery room, and the flight attendants our nurses. Well, I can honestly say that this journey was the longest labour of my life.

We left our home at 9:00 am on the 16th. Almost exactly 48 hours later, we finally arrived at our “home” here. Although I had managed to sleep for an hour our two in the airport and a few hours on the plane, Marc had pretty much stayed awake the entire time. He had caught 20 mins of sleep here and there, but people who suffer from insomnia, rarely can sleep in a plane of hundreds of strangers. As a result, Marc, who has been sleeping since 6:30 pm yesterday, is still sleeping, almost 12 hours later.

Our journey was going incredibly smooth. My parents arrived at our house on the 15th just in time for supper. On the 16th, my dad drove us to Woodstock where we met my brother and sister-in-law, Eric and Bonnie, who drove us to the airport. All the little worries of travel, (Are our suitcases over the weight limit? Did we remember the passport? Is our carry-on the right size?) All these little questions were answered without a glitch. Everything went perfectly.

We made it through security, found our gate, and passed the time until boarding with a few friendly rounds of 2 person Euchre. I embarrassed Marc by taking our picture as we waited, and then it was time to board the plane. (will be posted soon!) After watching an in flight movie (Invictus, just to get in the South African mood), we noticed that our destination had changed. The flight monitor no longer read Amsterdam, but had changed to Paris. We didn’t worry until a few hours later when the Captain announced that Amsterdam was covered in a giant cloud of ash from our friendly volcano, and we were forced to land in France.

Marc and I looked at each other, our stress level multiplying as we wondered how we’d make our 10:30am connecting flight to South Africa in Amsterdam when we were stuck in Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris.

It was a tremendous disaster. Our flight attendants assured everyone on board that when we landed, Air France would take care of everything and provide instructions as to how to continue on our journey, that everything would be ok.

We were transported to the terminal by bus and then waited in line with the passengers from 6 OTHER REROUTED PLANES. We each had, literally about 1.5 square feet in this line and TWO HOURS LATER, we still had not moved one inch. People were frantically calling family, hotels, airlines using cell phones and laptops, babies were crying, people were yelling and we still had not seen one person from Air France to give directions.

I decided to be assertive.

Leaving Marc to hold our place in line, I wormed my way past hundreds of people trying to find the front of the line and this is what I saw: Two Air France people trying to facilitate the rebooking of six planes of passengers, one passenger at a time. It took about 15 -20 minutes per person. There was no way we’d get to the front of the line for at least about 8 hours.

I decided to continue being assertive.

I walked around the terminal until I found someone in a uniform. I stopped her and remained calm and polite. I explained that we needed help, that our baby was waiting for us in S.A. and was there any other place we could get a flight to South Africa. She said, not without going through customs and getting our baggage. I said that’s fine, and she pointed me towards the customs. Not wanting to worm my way back through the crowd, I went to the front of the line and used my God given, much practised, very very loud voice and yelled, “MARC HOOGSTAD, PLEASE COME TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE”, everyone stared, one person said, well that’s one way of doing it. I said, “well, I’ve got nothing to lose, have I”.

And there came Marc. We quickly moved through customs, found a new line and waited, 45 mins later we were asked by a uniformed man if Amsterdam was our final destination or if we needed a connecting flight. WE WERE IN THE WRONG LINE! Bless his heart, this man personally escorted us, and about 50 people who were also in the wrong line, up the stairs and to the new line that we needed to be in. Continuing in my new calm but assertive manner, I sped walked, leaving Marc behind, and managed to find a place in the front of this new line. 20 mins later, we had two tickets to Johannesburg leaving that evening at 11:20. We went through security, arrived at gate E62, only 14 hours early and began our long and sleepy relationship with the international departures terminal of Charles de Gaulle airport in France.

We payed 25 Euros (50 dollars) for a scrambled egg, two sausages and a salad each for breakfast (who eats salad for breakfast?) and 20 Euros for two sandwiches, an apple, diet coke and a Heineken for lunch. Played more Euchre, blogged, Skyped with family members, and read nearly an entire book and FINALLY, found ourselves aboard an Air France flight to Johannesburg.

13 hours later we boarded our third plane to Durban. Once we landed, Paul, our shuttle driver with the coolest accent, who insisted on driving a van with a steering wheel on the wrong side of the car, drove, on the wrong side of the road, to Westville and here we are.

We each took the best shower of our lives, quickly dressed, and met our social worker for paperwork. Then we walked to the “Westville mall” found supper and went to bed.

We made it! We are here, and, in 5 hours, we will hold our son for the first time. And like all mothers who hold their baby for the first time, those long hours of labour, our airport terminal delivery room, and our flight attendant nurses, will fade away until they are forgotten forever.

Mama's Takin' Us to the Zoo!

Mama's taking us to the zoo tomorrow! That's what our girls were singing the weekend we got the call. We had planned a weekend with the girls in Toronto and so...heads still reeling from our joyful news, basement a mess with renovations, we packed up our stuff and headed to the Toronto Zoo on perhaps the most beautiful day of the year.

We had such a beautiful day with the girls, weather wise, and other wise. We explored a new aspect of creation, and celebrated family. It was wonderful to spend time together.

We stayed in a hotel with a pool and swam at least twice a day, enjoyed meals out, and picnic lunches and watched tv in the hotel room. The girls LOVE hotel rooms and were so excited.

The other highlight, and the initial reason for the Toronto trip, was to celebrate South Africa Freedom Day with other families adopting from South Africa. The yahoo support group of families adopting from S.A. plans different events throughout the year, and one of them is Mahata Mmoho, a festival to celebrate the anniversary of the black vote in South Africa. It was a terrific day, very loud and busy, but a great celebration of black South African culture.

They had Lindiwe, a Zulu South African singer who led us in South Africa's national anthem, taught us a Zulu lullabye and sang one of her own songs. Three incredible South African dancers who study at the Creole ballet school in Toronto. They demonstrated the Gumboot dance (a dance developed as a means of communication by black miners in the gold and diamond mines), traditional stick fighting with knackberries, and other dances. They also got us dancing. The children all brought rainboots and the dancers taught them how to dance the gumboot dance. They also taught us the famous diski dance for the World Cup. Finally, the day ended with a drumming workshop for the children.

The place was packed, and the children all had an incredible time. Sara and Leah are still dancing the gumboot style dance at home!

We also caught up with former schoolmates of ours, from Marc's highschool and our university. They are also planning to adopt from South Africa. Their son Nathan and Leah hit it off and became fast friends. After the festival, we enjoyed dinner with them at a local Indian restaurant.

The weekend was fun, exciting, family oriented, and a great way to celebrate our family and the culture of our little Jeremy. We had a great time!

The Call

So we have been busy! Booking flights, bed & breakfasts, completing paperwork, updating medications, finishing our basement renovation, sorting baby clothes, assembling a crib, buying diapers, packing, and all the while trying to have quality (if not quantity) time with our girls. In all this time, I have had very little time for sleeping, and even less for blogging. But I thought I need to post about receiving that amazing phone call. I had imagined the "call" for months already, and felt that I was prepared to hear. But nothing is like the real thing. Nothing.

My good friend Jen and her kids were over. Marc was at work, Sara at school, and Leah was having a blast playing with Ryan and Caleb. We had given up expecting the phone call and so when the phone rang at 10:30am it didn't cross my mind that it could be what it was.

I did see "Mission of Tears" in our caller ID, and felt a little flicker of hope which I quickly suppressed...don't get your hopes up Renée, it's probably nothing. I walked to the kitchen with the phone, swatting at the butterflies taking flight inside me.

Elaine, the adoption administrator at Mission of Tears, was on the phone. She asked how I was and I said quite good. Then, I knew. Elaine sounded a little nervous, and then asked me again "How are you?" I think this is it! My hands began to shake and my voice developed the nervous quiver that Elaine had.

"We have a little baby boy ready for you" Elaine said. I was a little stunned so my response was a little muted. Also, Jenn was in the other room so I was a little self-conscious about my reaction. With a pad of paper from VanGoosens's music, and a pen that barely worked, I jotted down the information that Elaine was reading to me. My hands were shaking so badly I could hardly write!
Boy, born Feb. 16, 2010 (he's only 10 weeks!)
Birth mother chose us! Mom is English, Dad is African, looks Caucasian so far.
May 19 or May 25 court date!

I could barely speak as Elaine talked about our child. Our son, our little guy for whom we've prayed and prayed and prayed. Finally in a moment of clarity at the end of the call, just as we were hanging up I said, "His name, what's his name!".

Elaine laughed, looked through her notes and told us "Arthur".

And there it is. I thanked her, and abandoning Jenn who was waiting in the living room, ran to the bedroom and called Marc at work. With trembling voice and a lump in my throat I read through my faint notes. "Wow!" was his response. Then silence. (This was repeated about 10 times.) It's amazing how you can be waiting for something for over a year and then when it finally comes be completely unprepared.

We were both stunned. Agreeing that I pick him up for a celebrative lunch, I hung up and told Jenn. She shared our excitement and we talked and talked about our new baby, when we will travel, how we will get ready in time and all sorts of joyous baby talk. Jenn agreed to take Leah for lunch and I drove to Marc's work. Sitting at Boston Pizza, we stared at each other. How our lives had changed! Nothing seemed important anymore but getting to Africa. (Marc had sat in his office, staring at his computer screen for 1/2 an hour and completed nothing.) How do you write bulletin announcements when you just heard you have a baby boy?!? We laughed, and planned, and wondered what he looked like, how big he was, and what in the world we were going to name him.

That afternoon after school we told the girls. They were excited but had difficulty grasping that it was finally happening. Even two weeks of waiting is a long time for them. It was fun talking with them about names (our Boston Pizza discussion had settled nothing). Sara wanted to name him after boys she new at school -- Matthew after her reading buddy, Samuel after her friend. Leah wanted to name him "Grawp". Both are now satisfied that Jeremy is a good name too!

The following two days were emotional, overwhelming, and wonderful. Every few hours it seemed we received new information about our son. A special moment was when we received an email with pictures of the baby. How amazing to have pictures from the moment he was born! - He is beautiful!

Thursday afternoon, while the carpet was being installed in our basement, we received all his medical information, pictures of his birth parents, and the legal paper. Then we met with our Canadian social worker, Ann Felsky. With tremendous smiles we signed the documents accepting the proposal. What a gift! Our little boy!

Our Beautiful Baby Boy

How is it that a name and a picture can stir in us such incredible love? How can one phone call change our lives forever! We got the call; our son, our beautiful baby boy is ready to come home! We are emotional, excited, overjoyed, nervous, and so blessed. God is so good!

And here he is!

Jeremy Arthur Phumlani Hoogstad

born Feb 16, 2010

referred to us April 28,2010

Here in the Hoogstad household we are reeling! We had given up hope that we'd receive a call this spring and were so wonderfully surprised. We are dazed, walking in a dream. We sit and stare at the pictures of our son and memorize every detail of his precious face. We are overwhelmed with joy, and with preparations!

Baby Jeremy, a name we are trying out as much as possible, came with the name Arthur. His birth mother, of English South African background, named him after his great grandfather; they share a birthday. We have given him his other names.

Jeremy, Marc's middle name, means "Exalt the Lord", and it completely reflects our feelings. Exalt the Lord! Praise His name! Glorify the Lord with us!

Phumlani, Jeremy's third name, is the name of his birth father, a Zulu South African. Phumlani means "rest" and we pray that Jeremy's birth parents can rest in the Lord and be at peace with their decision to relinquish their child and give him to us to raise. We want to honour them and so have used names from both of them so that they will forever be a part of Jeremy and his identity.

These last few days have been emotional, overwhelming, and wonderful. Every few hours it seems, we receive new information about our son. We've met with our Canadian social worker, signed papers, looked into flights, called family members, and have wandered around in a daze, unable to even think straight. It's an incredible experience.

So now, our dreams, our thoughts, our hopes for the last year and a half are becoming real. In just two and a half weeks our lives will be changed forever. Our family will be complete and our son will be home. Our family tree will grow in the most beautiful way as Jeremy Arthur Phumlani is grafted in. We covet the prayers of family and friends over the next few weeks as we prepare to travel and unite with our son, and also in the months and years to come.

On Dandilion Fluff and Eagle's wings...

It's been almost six months since our file left for South Africa in early November. And I'm not sure if half a year has ever taken this long in recorded history! The first few months were a pretty easy wait, actually. Since our South African social worker took the month of December off for Christmas, we knew that when she got back in January she would have a lot to catch up on; we didn't really start anticipating a call until February. Since February, we've been on pins and needles!


The average wait for a referral is eight months. Some people wait two months, some people have been waiting over a year. We hoped to be in the first category. Having been reassured that our family, made of a Christian pastor and teacher, would be a relatively quick pick for birth moms, we kind of hoped for a six month wait at the longest.

Even in February, in a conversation with our agency, we were encouraged to "get ready" because they were optimistic that we'd have our baby before summer. So our real time of anticipation began in March. On weekdays we'd glance eagerly at the caller id looking for that "Mission of Tears" name or the name of our Canadian social worker "Ann Felsky". By the end of March we'd check our phone messages immediately after arriving home, sometimes not even taking off our shoes. Although we tried not to, each ring of the phone made our minds race as we went to answer it, "could this be the call?".

Due to the Fifa World Cup taking place in South Africa, the overseas adoption program is shutting down for June and the first part of July. Our social worker is coming to Canada to meet with families, and no families will travel during that time to meet their child.

So...the wait for a referral will take a break for a while, and likely, we won't be meeting our little baby until the end of the summer...but now I wonder, will it be winter? Or will I, next spring, be still wondering, still waiting by the phone?

It is unbelievable how our third child affects our life DAILY. This little guy impacts our life in crazy ways. Booking camping reservations...will we be going camping or will we be in S.A.? Baby Tylenol is on sale, should I buy it so we're ready for the call? They said to 'get ready'. The girls ask how things will be with a baby. Leah proudly states how her baby brother will sit in the front of the 'Sit 'n Stand' stroller and she will get to stand in the back. Last night, while in the car, they asked how the seating arrangements will be when we have the baby (Sara will be in the back of the van).

But it wasn't until Sara said her next comment that I realized how the wait is affecting my two precious little girls. While we were driving in the van, Leah said, once again, "Our baby takes a long time". And then Sara shared excitedly that while waiting for the bus, she blew on a dandelion fluff and wished that we'd get the call about the baby next week! Sweet Sara believes with her whole heart in dandelion fluff wishes. Then, in my rear view mirror, I saw her eyes grow big and her hand cover her mouth. She had told us her wish...now it won't come true.


And that is pretty much the moment when my heart broke. The wait is hard on Marc and I, but to think of our six year old daughter using her dandelion's wish on a baby brother instead of on a pony or a dog or whatever toy or dream that usually fill the heads of little girls and then to think that she could, by mistake, do ANYTHING to ruin the chances of her baby brother... I just about cried then and there.


Instead I cried later. That night we went to a Sean and Aimee Dayton concert, a beautiful, intimate time of worship led by two gifted musicians and singers. Once again, in the usual way that God works, every song they sang was, of course, geared to me, my heart, and my troubles. The song that broke me, was based on the text, "Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up on wings like eagles. They shall run and not grow weary. They shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31.

We have definitely been waiting, but the question of waiting on the Lord is debatable. How is it that just a few weeks ago, when we received the incredible news of our $10,000 grant we could be so definite about God's plan for us and his providence, and also of his timing. "For I know the plans I have for you", and now we are filled with such anxiety and stress at another day of waiting. Are we really trusting God's timing if we are so desperate for our call? So...we're trying to switch our thinking, trust in God's plan and God's timing, wait upon the Lord, and hang out with the birds for a bit.

I'm very disappointed that our chances of a spring baby are almost over. I've given up on the phone call for the time being. I don't wonder each time the phone rings if this is the moment. It's not going to happen right now. But I'm drawing on the message from Sean and Aimee, and from the Lord, that if I place my wait instead in the hands of the Lord, my strength in this long long journey of adoption will be renewed and my weariness will subside.

A little Treat...

Our "dog days" of waiting were interrupted recently with a wonderful treat! Our friends Pieter and Elsebé treated us to an evening rich with the flavours of South Africa. They immigrated here from South Africa five years ago and so are well qualified for presenting a South African feast! And wow did they ever present! Pieter and Elsebé are from Afrikaaner stock and were careful to point out that the dishes they created for us were representative of only one of the cultures of the rainbow nation. But... the food was incredible!

We were invited with the Senior Pastor of our church and his wife, as a Pastor Appreciation dinner (Marc is the Youth Pastor in our church). And were entertained with high cuisine, and South African traditions.


Pieter and Elsebé's home is beautiful and everywhere is decorated with items from South Africa. They have carved animal statues, South African paintings, and wall hangings all from South Africa. The centrepiece of their coffee table included ostrich eggs.

Our hosts were gracious enough to tolerate me taking pictures of objects in their house and of every course of the meal. They were excited to share their culture, so I don't think they minded too much!

We started with an appetizer called Biltong. Biltong is a meat that is flavoured with spices and vinegar and then dried. Our hosts prepared it using beef, but normally in South Africa they use game like spring bok or eland. Biltong was perfected by Voortrekkers, the dutch descendants who migrated north into the interior of South Africa to get away from British rule. The Voortrekkers needed a way to preserve game quickly in a hot climate while on the road. Biltong developed as a result. Here is Elsebé holding a stokkie (stick) of Biltong before it has been sliced. Pieter is holding the slicer to demonstrate how the Biltong is sliced into thin strips.

Biltong tasted good. It is a salty dry meat and reminded us a lot of Beef Jerky.

Once we sat at the table, we were presented with a cream soup. Usually it is made out of white pumpkin which is very common in South Africa. In Canada, Elsebé had to resort to butternut squash. The soup was excellent. The picture is nice too with the yellow against the blue tablecloth.

After the soup, our hosts brought the main course to the table: Lamb, potatoes, green beans, and broccoli. It was only the second time in my life that I had lamb and it was so good! Elsebé, having grown up on a sheep farm, knew how to prepare it in the most succulent way. It was a wonderful meal! During the meal Pieter and Elsebé's children entertained us with stories of South Africa. They return annually to their home country and so had pictures and experiences to share. Hendrik enthusiastically told all about Jack Rabbit Hunting. Basically all the kids jump in the back of a bakkie (pick up truck) and the adults drive the bakkie at top speeds bouncing through fields. One person in the back of the bakkie has a spot light. As soon as he picks up a jack rabbit in the spot, the truck screeches to a halt, the kids get out and chase the jackrabbit all over the field. Once they get close, they hit it with sticks (knobkerries really, but Hendrik assures me that any stick will do) until it is dead. Anneri and Hendrik had us all in stitches as they described chasing after the jack rabbits, stumbling in the pitch dark through the field and tripping over holes in the ground. It is a party, a part of childhood in South Africa. For many, especially the workers on the farm, it is also a source of food.

It wasn't until after the stories that we finally realized that a South African Jack Rabbit is not the same as a North American Jack Rabbit. While we were picturing cute little bunnies, they were describing animals with long tails. South African Jack Rabbits are more like wallabys then rabbits.

After we had finished our delicious meal, Pieter and Elsebé brought out the dessert -- Brandy tart otherwise known as Tipsie tart and ice cream. It was great.

Perhaps one of the best things about this great time with friends was the break it was for us in our wait. We looked forward to the meal and learning about a different part of South Africa, and enjoyed connecting in yet another way to the country that has become such an important place in our lives. An evening like this creates fellowship and builds friendships and encourages us in our journey. Thanks Pastor Jim and Linda, and thank you Pieter, Elsebé, Anneri, and Hendrik for a wonderful evening.