We exited IBESR!

We learned we crossed a big milestone this week in the process to bring Jonathan home. We exited IBESR! Which means we have been 100% approved by Haitian social services to adopt Jonathan. Now we move into the court system called Parquet to make him legally ours.

Three more big steps to go. 1st we need an adoption decree, 2nd we need a passport, 3rd we need a visa. All of this could take 6-9 months. But having IBESR behind us is really big since it's the most unpredictable part of the process. 

We have earnestly prayed to exit IBESR before the end of the year. Thank you everyone who has been praying with us. I am overwhelmed with the prayers being lifted on our behalf from people we know and people we don't. We are grateful!

Getting closer Brother!

There's a party going down today in Haiti! Our little guy is 4 and got to celebrate with his brothers and sisters at Rivers of Hope. It was extra special because he got to share his birthday with his "big brother" W who will be going home to Ohio very soon. We are very grateful for this connection while we are celebrating a country away.

Socialization Trip: I was the rejected parent

We aren't sure if there was a specific trigger. Everything had been going well. The first few days in Haiti with Brother were little pieces of heaven. He was trusting both of us more, relaxing with both of us more. We were all falling in love.

On Day 3, the three Mamas left for an impromptu shopping excursion at the Apparent Project and then to the grocery store. While we were gone, the kids spent spent several quality hours together with their Papas. Good bonding happened between Brother and Papa during this time. When the Mamas returned early that evening, there were no obvious signs of anything wrong. Brother, Papa and I finished the day well.

But sometime on Day 4 it started. It was a gradual progression. Brother became even more enamored with Papa, and he began pushing Mama away. I noticed less eye contact at first. Then it was withholding smiles. Then it was not wanting to be held. Then full blown testing behaviors. There was the running past Mama with her arms open wide like she wasn't there. Then it was just plain ignoring. By the end of the day, Brother pretty much wanted nothing to do with Mama.

I became The Rejected Parent.

Dodd and I tried to piece things together to understand what was going on. We also tried not to read too much into it. Adoptive parents know this is one of the hardest things to balance. You try to understand if your child is acting in whatever way because of a deeply rooted loss, or just because they're a kid.

Maybe it was my absence from the day before. Did it trigger a fear of abandonment? Was it because we were starting to bond and he felt scared so he had to test my love? Maybe it had more to do with disrupting his routine, and different parenting styles than what he was used to? Maybe it was a little bit of everything? Maybe it was just ME?

I want to say this now because it's so important. If you find yourself the rejected parent, whatever you do, don't, don't, don't take it personally! It's not you! It happens. Rejecting one parent is somewhat common in adoption, especially in the early stages of the new parent child relationship. Loving and trusting is a risky proposition for little ones who have known so much loss.

By Day 5, Brother was very challenging. When he was with me he was very disobedient and testing. He had a full blown tantrum in the other condo while little J was trying to nap, forcing me to carry him out of the condo while he cried (screamed?) and tried to wriggle out of my arms.

And then he delivered his deathblow. On Day 5 he stopped calling me Mama. Yup, the Mama Blanc who he had waited and waited for, that he was so proud to have, well he was ready to be done with her. He called me Rebecca instead. It was a very nice and friendly Rebecca. He was fine having me around but only as a nice lady who he could keep at arms length. The Mama position was closed.

I thought we would get through it. That it was a temporary reaction to my absence. As soon as we had more time together, another day or two, we could restore what we had built up those first few days. But my boy wouldn't let me in. Not in the way he did initially. I tried all my best stuff. There would be times when I would think we were gaining ground, and then something unexpected would cause another set back. Fortunately, his relationship with his Papa continued to grow each day so we felt good in knowing attachment was at least happening with one parent.

He held out longer than either of us expected. By around Day 10 Dodd and I started to wonder if the rejection might continue through the remainder of the trip. We were concerned about not building enough positive memories between Brother and Mama during our 2 weeks. I needed some help and advice from the pros so I called our caseworker Kate who connected me with a transition counselor at AGCI. They were very well spent international roaming minutes. Kate, the transition counselor, and our traveling friends, gave some good practical advice and were really just supportive and reinforced some of what Dodd and I were thinking.

Mama's absence made him doubt, caused stress.

He may be protecting himself from an off and on relationship.
Papa never left and became the one he can rely on.

Reinforce that you love him. Your love is not conditional.
He may think you left because he did something wrong.

Stay near him. Don't retreat.

Important not to let him come between the two of you.
Make sure he sees Papa being affectionate with Mama. This will model connection for him.

Mama should be the only one to feed him. This forces him to recognize her as caregiver.
Cut his food from yours, then give him food from your plate.

Things could be completely different next visit.

Focus should be on connection. Don't worry so much about setting behavior precedents.
Any expectations for behavior that you establish on this trip will wear off.

Anything you make into a game or make fun will create non threatening bonding.

So we stayed at it and I continued to lean in to him. It wasn't until around Day 12 that he started to come around to Mama again. It was through creative play, consistency, and a little bit more firmness. Something we observed that the coordinator did not mention. Rachel and the nannies at ROH run the house with a very firm and strong parenting style. The kids are used to a firm and forceful "NO" and they have a clear respect for authority. Even tho the coordinator recommended ignoring Brother's challenging behaviors, we suspected that the looser rules he was experiencing with us were causing anxiety for him.  He wanted boundaries. So we both got more firm and he responded well. 

The turning point came while we were playing. The kids and I played a long game of looking for Lions and Tigers and Bears all over the compound with a flashlight. Exploring and looking for anything with a flashlight, even when the sun was shining, was a thrill. He loved this game. While we were playing, he wanted to be in my arms. In my arms he began to relax. And then, a little bit to my surprise, he was snuggling. Somewhere along the line that day he took me back.

Our last 2 days together, Days 14 and 15, were the richest family days of all. There was a whole lot of laughing and comfort. Affection and understanding. We ended so, so well. 

Dodd and I went into the socialization trip with concern that 15 days of bonding were excessive and not in the best interest of a child. Our thoughts have changed on that. The extended, intensive time together provided the opportunity for loving and regressing and coming back.

Isn't this is what family is about after all.

A little foam sticker in the shape of a heart had fallen under the coffee table in the main living room, left behind by a teenage missionary. Brother found it and stuck it on his forehead. I didn't pay much attention to it. He stuck a lot of stickers on his forehead those two weeks. Strangely, this particular sticker kept reappearing. Over the course of the two weeks I would find it in his pocket, in the refrigerator, in my camera case, sometimes stuffed in his hand. It kept coming back. Without taking too much notice, I decided to throw it away because it had gotten grimy and lost its stick. As I was about to drop it in the trash can, the only word printed on the sticker jumped out at me.

Trust. Out of all the stickers, all the toys, all the stuff in the house, he found this particular left behind little thing and carried it around for two weeks.  I doubt Brother understood what the word meant. How could he know. But this little heart. A secret message from my son. A simple yet profound message from my Father in heaven. I tucked this little symbol inside my journal to bring home.

I learned a lot about my son in those two weeks. His little heart. I will need to tend to it carefully. I will need to guard it and protect it. I have some work ahead to prove to him my love is a never stopping, never changing, never give up kind of love.

My son, I will show you I will not leave you. Ever. I am ready. I am praying now that you will be ready too.

love will grow

do you trust me 

little boy?

when your merry eyes

seemed dimmed with dreaming

do you grieve?

in their troubled depths

lie memories of other mothers - 

this i know

do you trust me

little boy?

realize that after me

there will be

no other mothers

that for this human measure

of "forever"

I am yours? Trust me first

my darling…

love will grow

Grace Sandness (1983)

A couple articles on being the rejected parent:

https://www.adoptivefamilies.com/adoption-bonding-home/toddler-adoption-rejection-of-one-parent/

https://adoption.com/when-adopted-toddlers-reject-their-parents

Poem taken from the book Toddler Adoption, The Weaver's Craft by Mary Hopkins-Best

Socialization Trip - Getting to know you

Like a river flows 

surely to the sea

darling so it goes

some things are meant to be.

The morning after we arrived in Haiti and met Brother, our three traveling families enjoyed breakfast together at the guesthouse, getting to know one another a bit more before the kids arrived. We were surrounded by a large missions team that was staying at the big house on the property.

While we were eating, all of a sudden the kids appeared, coming through the gate and into the courtyard where we were sitting. It took a couple days but we soon became accustomed to not knowing exactly when the kids would come in the morning or go in the evening. The kids were dropped off in the mornings to spend their days with us on the guest house compound, then returned to Rivers of Hope in the evenings to sleep in their own beds.

When Brother came in, he motioned to Dodd that he wanted to ride on Dodd's back. So up he went.  We left our breakfast to walk back to the condo. We had been waiting for this. A day in which our only care was to be together.

Riding piggy back, we walked Brother around the grounds of the compound and the into every room in the condo, upstairs and downstairs, even the closets, so there was no place that would be unknown to him. From his perch on Dodd's back, Brother quietly observed everything about his new surroundings. He was reserved but we were relieved to see he wasn't scared.

And then there we were, standing in the living room, wondering where should we begin this day? How do we start this process of discovery? There was so much we didn't know about this child, our child! We weren't sure what he knew about us. What mattered most is that we went slowly, gently and that he felt safe.

It was Brother who decided for us where to begin with a lesson on food. I want to share this early experience with Brother here because it's likely others will experience this with their own children when they meet.

Soon after the condo orientation, Brother spotted the food Dodd was eating and motioned that he wanted some. Thinking he must be hungry and anxious to be able to meet a need, we got a kid snack out of the big bin of food we brought. We were somewhat stunned as this gentle boy suddenly seized the big bag of cookies out of my hands and ripped it open with his teeth right in front of me. Into the bag plunged his little hand and out it emerged with a fistful of cookies which were immediately consumed into his mouth.

And so began the food frenzy. He had seen the bin filled with food. I hadn't had time to unpack it and put the food away before he arrived. He walked over to the bin, opened the lid and motioned to what he wanted, which was just about everything.

In 30 minutes he gobbled cookies, animal crackers, cranberries, pistachios still in their shells (there was no time to get the shells removed before the pistachios disappeared into his mouth), and not one, not two, but three granola bars. Then he downed it all with a juice. I could not get one food item put away in a kitchen cabinet before he was moving on to the next.

To some extent we were an alert for this. We were fresh off a call with AGCI's transition counselor earlier in the week. She reminded us that Brother may hoard food, and depending on his background, there may be some issues of fear around food. Food becomes a a great source of comfort to children who have known deprivation. We knew enough to respect and treat these fears gently.

And here we faced our first parenting dilemma of the trip. How do we exercise latitude for behaviors that may or may not be rooted in trauma, grief, or survival, and still create the boundaries he needs?  And how do we do this in such a way that we don't create a negative experience for him in the first half hour of being together finally? We couldn't let him make himself sick. Oh how I wished I knew some Creole!

I had packed a cute little yellow and navy striped backpack for Brother and realized this would be a good opportunity to put it to use. We put a few snacks in the backpack, zipped it up and helped him put it on his back. We told him as best as we could through simple words and body language that this backpack was all his. If he felt hungry he could get what he wanted from his backpack, but once the food was gone, it would be all gone until lunch time. This seemed to work well. The backpack gave him control. He wore his backpack proudly all over the house, all day, for many days.

We also unpacked three water bottles we brought from home. One was Brother's, one was Papa's, and one was Mama's. He helped me fill them from the big Culligan jug that supplied our drinking water during our stay. We put all three bottles side by side in the frig. This was another important item which again gave him control. He went to the frig at least every half hour for a sip from his bottle. The gleam in his eye communicated what a thrill this was. Unlimited access to water! Something we take for granted, we would come to appreciate how precious clean water is in this country.  As you might suspect, all that water the first few days also meant a lot of trips to the bathroom.

He remained very interested in food for the remainder of the day, however his persistence subsided when he began to realize there was plenty. The hoarding behavior went away after a couple days. By the end of the trip we almost forgot about the frenzy. That little backpack became a sweet symbol of learning and trust for me.

As for using the bathroom, before the trip we weren't sure if he would be able to use the bathroom by himself. We were also told that potty trained children frequently regress in the excitement and stress of the transition with their new parents. However, we learned quickly that he is very adept at taking care of himself. We kept an eye on him as he walked into the bathroom for the first time. He had to poop, and sorry yes for too much information. When he was done he just sat on the great big toilet with little legs dangling back and forth. I thought he must not be done, and so he continued to sit there. He looked all around the bathroom for a few minutes, looked at me and smiled, and then put his hand on his chin and patiently waited. But what was he waiting for? I finally asked if he was all done and he gave me a big smile and jumped off the toilet. Another little lesson. They must have to wait for an ok to leave the toilet at ROH. They also put their tissue in the garbage, not in the toilet. At times I would forget, and he would give me a funny, slightly astonished look. He let me flush the toilet. Then he asked for help washing his hands with the sweetest, most polite, "Sivouple, levante?" "Please, raise me up?"

The day progressed into a slow give and take, trial and error, get to know you with no words kind of day. With restraint and curiosity, he unpacked another bin we brought full of toys and activities for two weeks. After unwrapping and opening each toy, examining it, and carefully putting it back, we began to play. And play, and play. We blew bubbles, built marble mazes, colored, we did puzzles. He liked the marble maze. It gave him happiness and caused spontaneous smiles. I was pretty fascinated by his drawing and coloring. He draws more complex shapes than I thought he would and always connects them and creates closure. He finishes what he starts. And something that comes much to his big brother's delight, he likes Hotwheels.

It took some time for him to make regular eye contact. But even when he was distant, he was still so careful, so gentle, so considerate. Each new little bit of himself he revealed, each time he his eyes meet ours, each giggle that escaped from his happy heart, each gift of a smile, each one of these drew us closer. His smiles became more frequent, less guarded and…well...dazzling. Dazzling not just because he's adorable, (have I mentioned he's beautiful?)  but dazzling because of the glowing spirit that releases them. His smile emits affirmation. It's life giving. He is quite engaged, thoughtful, and good natured. He is also independent and confident without being demanding. He walks with the cutest swagger and knows what he wants. He is tough too. We saw him fall down, bonk his head, get pushed around a bit without even a whimper. There is a quiet strength in this boy who is so, so gentle.

We tried for a while to get him to nap at the ROH 12:30 nap time but he wasn't totally comfortable falling asleep. There were a few times that his face looked sad. We played a lot with the other kids and families which was a Godsend, especially at times when he appeared to be missing his home and brothers and sisters.

He became more and more at ease those first few days. He started to relax more in my arms. He accepted some kisses, and allowed me to trace his nose, cheeks and arms with my fingertips.

By the second full day together, Brother and his Papa had figured each other out. Brother could tell when Dodd was joking around or teasing him and played right along with dishing some back. The two of them together are like two peas in a pod. They have a similar mix of gentle and strong. I can't imagine a better daddy for this boy.

Those first few days I can only describe as falling in love. It felt a little like each new little discovery created more gravitational pull and then I realized I was falling. I sang Elvis to him as we walked the beautiful grounds, him in my arms, just the two of us.

We all just seem to fit.

There would be a few challenging days ahead. The loveliness of those first full days together would provide some perspective for navigating the harder days.

This is the last sentence written in my journal on Day 3:

"So tired, so full, tear stains with love abundantly flowing. It is feeling a lot like family around here."

Socialization Trip: The day we met

What great gravity is this that drew my soul toward yours? 

-Donald Miller

It was Wednesday July 29, 2015, in Thomassin, Haiti, sometime after 6pm. Here's the story of the day we met.

The day before we left for Haiti, I realized there were a few important questions I had neglected to ask Kate. One big one was when would we meet him? She said she wasn't sure but Rachel would probably take us soon after we arrived. Goodness, that meant tomorrow!

I wrote a bit in the last post about the frenetic pace of the two weeks between Brother's referral and leaving for Haiti to meet him. The whirlwind continued right up until the moment we left. Neither of us slept the night before as we moved through the remaining things on the to do lists.

Grandpa and Bear drove us to the airport at 5am. Saying goodbye to Bear was hard. He was strong for us, but I could see in his eyes what he was feeling. There was comfort in knowing he was in the best of hands while we were gone. Here I need to give a shout out to our incredible family. Dodd's parents, my parents, and my sister and brother in law were on standby for about a year, willing to drop everything to travel 2,000 miles and care for Bear so we could go to Haiti for 2 weeks to meet Brother. Knowing Bear was with the people he loves the most was a blessing.

We flew from Milwaukee to Atlanta to Port Au Prince. We slept most of the first flight. It was the first downtime we had in weeks. Still in a daze in Atlanta, we boarded the flight to Port Au Prince. It wasn't until we were in our seats, seat belts buckled, waiting to take off that reality began to sink in.

Dodd turned to me with big eyes and a smile and asked, "Is this really happening?"

I looked at him, and I wasn't sure. Waiting had become our reality the past 5 years. Waiting has a way of making The Wait more real than The What that are you waiting for. Brother still felt fuzzy, distant, out of reach. It was all pretty surreal.

The flight to Port Au Prince went quickly. We spent most of it reading our Simple Creole for Adoptive Families book, listening to excited missions teams chatter about their trips, and watching the ocean from the sky.

As the plane began its descent into Port Au Prince, I experienced something physical unlike anything I've experienced before when traveling. It was as if some great force had reached into my chest cavity and was pulling me down from the inside out. It wasn't a feeling of falling. This was something pulling me toward itself like a gigantic magnet. As the plane came lower and lower the downward pressure in my chest was almost unbearable. When the plane made contact with the tarmac, my heart exploded.

Put me on hallowed ground.

There was a significant shift in that moment of touch down. A cosmic gear engaged. This was right. The one we've been moving toward brought us to him. There was an overwhelming sense that we were exactly, precisely where we were supposed to be.

We had to wait in line in immigration for over an hour and our Midwest bodies were not yet acclimated to the tropical climate. Haiti was hot! Beads of sweat rolled down our backs as we stood in line waiting for passports to be stamped. My little Midwest cardigan and pants looked out of place in the heat surrounded by sun dresses, shorts and sandals. There was a Haitian band playing great music which kept the crowd happy. A sign in the waiting area got me thinking about this country we were in. "Haiti, Soul of the Caribbean."

We expected to be met at the airport by a driver but to our surprise, Rachel herself came to pick us up. Rachel is the director of Rivers of Hope. She has a larger than life persona when all you know of her comes from the stories of others. However, there at the airport she was just a lady waiting for some travelers and she was anxious to get going back home. I wanted to proclaim my admiration for her right there when we met, but she seemed humbly unaware of her rock star status. Little did I know that the admiration I felt at that moment was a fraction of what I would feel in another 2 weeks.

The 1 hour drive out of the city and up the mountain with Rachel was an adventure. After Addis Ababa, driving in Port Au Prince did not shock us, but it is dusty and chaotic. There are no words to describe the roads and traffic. As we drove further up the mountain, the road got windy and steep. Rachel drives the congested, bumpy roads like a charging warrior. She kept asking Dodd if he was ok with her driving and he said YES! He loved it! Actually, we were both quite comfortable with her at the wheel.

She took us to the guest house and introduced us to Willem. He showed us to the condo where we would stay for the next 15 days. It was beautiful. We did not expect such spacious and lovely accommodations. We met the two other families who arrived earlier from Canada. They were with their beautiful children who they had met earlier that day. We had dinner together. The meal prepared for us was sooo good. More on Haitian food to come.

As we were just finishing dinner, Rachel announced she was taking all of us to Rivers of Hope.

There was no time rest or change. This was it.

It was time to meet our son!

My hands began trembling during the very short drive from the guest house to Rivers of Hope. We waited in the truck while one of the staff came to open the gate. Sitting in the Haitian heat with the windows rolled down, we could hear a distant noise coming from inside the house behind the gate.

Driving up to the house the noise became a low roar. The kids were playing in the front room. Happy chatter and shrieks of laughter echoed from the walls inside. This house was simply ALIVE with JOY! It was the most beautiful sound.

With butterflies in our stomachs, Dodd and I got out of the truck, said a couple words to each other, and walked toward the house.  Then all of a sudden. WHOA! There he was holding Rachel's hand and standing in front of us on the front steps! It was him!

The moments that transpired after that are etched in my brain like a few other things in life. Dodd captured our meeting on video from my phone. I am so grateful to have these moments recorded. Dodd kept the video focused on Brother. We often think about what it will be like to meet our kids. We see videos of gotcha days and homecomings, but it's not often we get a glimpse into what's going on in the hearts and minds of our children. The video Dodd took reflects this momentous event from Brother's perspective.

Rachel told us Brother had known for a couple weeks that we were coming. The day of our arrival he asked her about 100 times about when his Mama Blanc and Papa Blanc were coming. A quick aside here. The kids call their adoptive parents Mama Blanc and Papa Blanc and yes, you read that correctly. It means White Mama and White Papa. It's a little funny and a little strange to know your child is calling you White Mama, but after a while, you realize it's just a name based on a factual observation. Anyway, having a family is a great source of pride for the kids at ROH. Today was a big deal.

Brother is just 3-1/2 years old. The waiting must have been excruciating for him. Then we arrived and he finally laid eyes on us and….well, our sweet boy didn't know what to do. He was quite overwhelmed by it all.

He stood a couple steps above me, reserved, almost emotionless, and looked off in the distance rather than looking at us. He just couldn't bring himself to look. This might have been intimidating to us, except for one thing.  He let me take his hands in mine and he oh so tenderly, oh so gently held on. He didn't let go. And that's how it went. We stood there on the steps like that for several minutes. Him looking away, me talking to him in words he couldn't understand, while our hands and our fingers communicated for us. He was taking it all in.

Some of his creche brothers and sisters were standing at the door and at the big front window watching this scene go down. One of the kids screeched at Brother which made Brother look back over his shoulder. Then he looked back in our direction. That's when the first smile erupted. It was like he was suppressing it and couldn't hold it in anymore.

And let me tell you about that smile. Good gracious. Slay me now. I am powerless to that smile. It beams from inside him with such warmth that you have no choice but be drawn in. In time we would learn that his smile is his invitation to connect. It was his first smile for us and it was definitely not his last.

Dodd and I could both see how much he wanted to connect but he needed more time to get comfortable. Wanting to relieve him of the intensity of this moment, we asked him to show us his house. So he lead me by the hand to the front door. There he stopped and put his other hand behind his back waiting for Dodd to take it. Then, with one hand in mine and the other in Dodd's he walked us through the door. Then slowly, slowly into his house.

Once inside, another sweet, shy smile spontaneously appeared on his face as he peeked up at his Papa. After a little bit of time inside Brother raised his arms and said to Dodd in a soft voice "pote 'm" which means "carry me" or "pick me up." In our house we say "uppie" which is a remnant of Bear's toddler days. This was the first time we heard the Haitian equivalent of uppie from Brother. This is when Dodd melted. He picked Brother up and felt the weight of his son in his arms for the first time. I witnessed such sweet beautiful moments between Brother and his daddy that day.

Brother again led us, this time to the room where he sleeps. He showed us his bed, the beds of the other boys - his brothers, and the grinning minion on the wall next to his bed.  He must look at that minion every night. These were a few precious moments we had as just the three of us.

Soon thereafter, the mobbing began. Rachel originally wanted to bring Brother to the guest house to meet us. But we thought it might be easier on him if we met him at ROH, on his turf, in the place he feels safe. In retrospect, Rachel was right. It soon became difficult to stay intent on Brother as little ones came running to greet the new visitors, inserting themselves into our arms, each looking for a hug or to be held. Each time my attention was diverted to another child, I could feel the fragile connection with Brother ease off a bit.

In an effort to keep him close, Dodd held him in his arms as we walked around the house. I continued to be mobbed by more children. They make a big to do about Mamas at ROH. I tried my hardest not to pick up other children in order to reinforce to them and to Brother that I belonged to him. We toured around the house for the first time, talking with nannies and meeting the kids we have prayed for for the past 2 years. While we walked, Brother still in Dodd's arms, Dodd could feel Brother's embrace become stronger and more relaxed.

After about 45 minutes at the creche, it was the kids' bedtime so the Mama Blancs and Papas Blancs had to leave. All of a sudden, we had to say goodbye. But we had just met! I had to say goodbye words in English. I could only hope he understood the tone of my voice, since he probably didn't understand my words. He was in my arms now and he wasn't letting go. I reluctantly put him down to leave. He looked down at the ground and didn't move. Then his face crumpled as his tears fell to the floor. I felt a small rush of panic as I realized this was the first moment my child needed to be consoled by his new mama and I didn't know the words. He was so sad and I had no way to communicate to him that we would be together again it the morning. It was terrible!

Still crying, he kissed us goodbye as we got in the truck to leave. Those parting moments felt pretty traumatic. Fortunately we had 15 more days together that would help us understand that it wasn't as terrible as it felt at the time. He was alright. Learning each other is a process. Later we would figure out that he was sad because he had been excited to go back to the guest house with us, not because he thought we were leaving him.

When we look back now, that end was just the beginning. Our memories of that day are pretty magical. Those first connections together were powerful and beautiful. The glow of his smile, the tenderness of his touch, the soft voice saying "pote 'm." They were just an introduction to the days ahead and there was so much more to come.

I will give you this, my love. I will love you as sure as He loved me. I will discover what I can discover, and though you remain a mystery, save God's own knowledge, what I disclose of you I will keep in the warmest chamber of my heart, the very chamber where God has stowed Himself in me.

Ready or not! The time between referral and socialization trip

You've been waiting years for your bus to come. The bus stop is looking kind of run down, grass is growing in the cracks in the road because there hasn't been a vehicle down that road in a long time. Then, one dusty day that feels just like the others before it, you look up and see that the yellow school bus you've been waiting for is really a bullet train and it's SCREAMING toward you. Grab your bags and hold on, it's coming and you will be swept up whether you're ready or not!


The time between Brother's referral and leaving for Haiti was crazy. There was about a day and a half of basking in the joy of our new boy. We received dozens of photos, and dozens of documents, all as attachments to dozens of emails. We went through them all, just taking him in. 

But there was no time to linger as much as we wanted to. Kate had to break us out of our spell and crack the whip on us! There really is a lot to do after referral and we had to shift quickly into task mode. With Bear's adoption, we had 3 months between referral and travel to prepare. With Brother's adoption we had 2 weeks. Besides the adoption and travel related things to do, we also had to prepare to be gone at work for 3 weeks, prepare for Bear's care, and duly celebrate his 6th birthday. 

There is another thing that happens after referral that I hadn't realized would also compete for time. Talking with friends and family. We couldn't wait to announce Brother to the world, but I realized there was not enough time to send and receive all the calls and emails we wanted to. So many in our lives have been waiting alongside us, encouraging us along the way, and it was so hard to not be able to call each person to share our joy in the moment. We talked with our families, I dashed off some emails and posted the news on Facebook. It was rushed. We were flying by the seat of our pants!

If you are waiting for a referral from Haiti and you think it could come in the next 1-3 months, I recommend doing what you can to prepare now. Don't feel like you are jumping ahead or jinxing yourself! Getting your head around the details now and having your checklists ready will help guide you and preserve your sanity when that momentous time finally comes.

Here are some things you can get a head start on:

• Referral Paperwork: Review referral paperwork now. Referral paperwork is intense! You have 1 week to return all documents, and there are some dependencies. Reviewing the documents now will help you know what information needs to be gathered. AGCI families, start discussing the Transition Plan with your spouse. Do some intentional research on bonding and attachment now. The Transition Plan takes time and deserves some thought.

• Notary: Referral paperwork feels like a mini dossier, and all documents must be notarized. Have a notary in mind. I work with a lovely woman who is also an adoptive grandma who loves to notarize for us. I put her on standby a couple months ago. She was ready when we needed her and even offered to come over to the house on the weekend if necessary.

• International Pediatrician: Contact the International Pediatrician now. Talk to them so you know what they will need from you and know their number. You will have 24-48 hours to get their assessment of your child's medical information. If you are an AGCI family, this is a requirement to accept your referral.

• Travel Documents: Review the travel documents now. Figure out where you will stay and what you will need. Ask your caseworker for a travel call now. Kate and I did a travel call about a month before we received Brother's referral. I am so glad I asked for a call even though we had no referral. I had a much better picture of what our 2 weeks would involve, and was mentally preparing both of us for the cultural differences, bucket showers, dress for church, etc.

• Travel Meds: Consult with your doctor or a local clinic about what vaccinations and meds are suggested for travel to Haiti. 

• Watch Airfares: Pretend like you are traveling in 2 weeks and look for tickets accordingly. Figure out the airports, layovers, and itineraries that get you the best price and times. In the 24 hours that passed while I was focused on completing paperwork, our plane tickets went from $900 each to $1,500 each and the only itineraries left required overnight layovers which meant more cost for hotels. After adjusting our return date (we stayed 2 more days in Haiti than fist planned) we were able to get good flight times on Delta for $900 again, but it took a lot of time to figure all of that out.

• Child Care: If you are leaving children at home in someone elses care, prepare your instructions for their care now. Make copies of your insurance information, write a letter that gives the care giver the ability to have your child treated by a doctor or at a hospital, make your master list of contact names and numbers, including the names and numbers of where you will be in Haiti that you will find on the travel documents. Our amazing families came to take care of Bear, which they have done before, so they mostly knew his routine. But there were still special instructions for feeding the cats, caring for the vegetable garden, etc. to prepare.

• For Your Child(ren) at Home: I wrote little love letters and had little presents for Bear to open each day that we were gone. I wrote those letters at 3am the night before we left! I ran out of time to wrap the presents so my mother in law did that for me after we left. In retrospect, I could have taken care of that months in advance. :) 

• Packing List: After your travel call, start a packing list or ask for one from someone who has already been on their socialization trip. The packing list should include not only the usual things you need for yourself when you travel, but also the toys and activities you will need for your child over the 2 weeks, and food you may want to bring from home for you and your child. The toys are harder to prepare in advance of knowing your child, since you might not know their age or their interests. On food…after hearing about a family who had trouble finding food in Haiti, I freaked out a little at the last minute, and decided to bring one entire bin filled with food. It was too much. The breakfasts and dinners we were served at the guest house were plentiful. There were plenty of opportunities to get food for snacking and lunch time at the market once we were in Haiti. ROH families, you will shop at the Caribbean Market and there isn't much you might want from home that you can't find in that store. Including organic, whole foods, vegan, gluten free, etc. It's expensive, but it's easier to buy exactly what you need once you're there.

• Phone/Data Plan: Call your cellular provider now and find out what kind of plans they do or do not have for international travel. Decide if you will use your provider or go with a local option once in Haiti. Find out if you will have WI-FI where you are staying.

• Learn Some Creole: I thought it would be more important to learn Creole when Brother comes home than for the socialization trip. I thought as long as I packed my Simple Creole for Adoptive Families book and CD, we would be fine for the two weeks. Then we were there, Brother was in the kitchen turning on the stove, and I was at a loss about how to communicate. I wish I had practiced a little bit in the months before. Just tuning my ears to how words are pronounced and having a repertoire of 10-15 basic words would have been helpful. Like "Pa touché!" (Don't touch!)  Luckily the 2 other families we traveled with were more prepared and helped us with some of the basics.

Signing referral paperwork while Eileen notarizes

May this post help someone out there get a head start. I hope you will have more time for savoring the first moments of knowing your child and have more time to emotionally prepare to meet him. They are beautiful and dare I say magical moments that deserve to be enjoyed!

Along the road

The evening of Brother's referral, after gazing so long on the many photos of him we received, this song from my college days snuck back into my head and played itself many times. Feeling a sense of retrospect along this road and sharing with those who are walking it with me.


Joy at the start
Fear in the journey
Joy in the coming home
A part of the heart gets lost in the learning
Somewhere along the road.

Along the road your path may wander
A pilgrim's faith may fail
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Darkness obscures the trail. 

Cursing the quest
Courting disaster
Measureless nights forbode
Moments of rest
Glimpses of laughter
Are treasured along the road.

Along the road your steps may stumble
Your thoughts may start to stray
But through it all a heart held humble
Levels and lights the way.

Joy at the start
Fear in the journey
Joy in the coming home
A part of the heart gets lost in the learning
Somewhere along the road.

-Dan Fogelberg

It's a boy!

We are overjoyed to share some news.

In May, our caseworker Kate asked if we would be open to expanding our age parameters. When we submitted our dossier in 2013, we were approved to adopt a child, or siblings, aged 0-2 years. That was 2 years ago. Our Bear is now 2 years older, and the children at Rivers of Hope waiting for families are now 2 years older too.

After a lot of discussion, we did a home study addendum and immigration update to change parameters to 0-5 years. We felt much peace in the change. Then, apparently behind the scenes in Haiti, our file and the file of a sweet little person were being discussed and moving across desks at IBESR.

On Monday, Kate emailed us a copy of a letter she received from the Haitian government. The letter was in French so they only words I could read were names. Our names and that of a 3-1/2 little boy in Haiti. The names told us all we needed to know. We have been matched!

We have a son!

We've been told this little man has a gentle, sweet spirit, and a deep, big infectious laugh that makes his head fall back and his eyes squeeze tight. We have lots of photos and let me say, his quiet confident smile, his gentle kind eyes….he is breath taking. Each new detail we learn affirms that he is the one we have been waiting for. Even his name feels right. A classic Old Testament name that goes so well with Bear's. Each time we say it and think of him we can't help but smile. 

Bear is so happy to be a big brother. We can't wait to watch these boys grow together. We think they are going to be good for one another. This is one of my favorite parts of the story being written. If I had any fear in the waiting, it was usually around the widening age gap between Bear and baby brother/baby sister. The Lord inclined and heard my cry. He has given us boys who are just 2-1/2 years apart. 

Yesterday this quote showed up in my inbox at work. Sometimes God doesn’t tell us His plan because we wouldn’t believe it anyway. --Carlton Pearson

I had to laugh. Dodd and I could not have imagined what it would take to become a family. If we had been told 20 years ago how far, how long, how it would change us. We couldn't have conceived of it all. And here we are, looking at this most precious gift. One we know we don't deserve. This is better than anything we could have written on our own.

Now, I have to stay focused on all that needs to happen between today and the end of the month for us to leave the country to meet him for the first time. There is so little time! Which is so ironic after waiting for so long. 

We can't share his name or any photos of him on public forums so I am thinking of taking the blog private. I want so much to post a photo here so you can see the beautiful little man we are ready to meet.

There is still more waiting ahead as it will be another 6-12 months before he comes home. But for now, just knowing him is enough.

A little news

People often ask if we've heard anything about the adoption and I usually have to say no. However, there was a little news that I thought I would share. When we were in Haiti we sat at this table in the garage at Rivers of Hope with Jonathan. We were interviewed by 2 social workers from Haitian social services. With the help of a translator, we answered questions for over an hour about our motivation for adopting from Haiti and for adopting Jonathan. I didn't expect to be nervous but I was. Fortunately Dodd stepped in and handled the interview well. A couple weeks ago we learned the social workers finished their report approving us to adopt Jonathan. This is really a little step in the process. The big steps are yet to come. But it's something. We are glad to have one little step behind us which means one little step closer to our boy. 

Signs of life in Haiti

The snow is all but melted, the days are getting longer, and there is good news coming from Haiti.

3 AGCI families exited IBESR.

2 more Rivers of Hope families (not with AGCI) exited IBESR.

And a referral for an AGCI family that has known their kids for 3 years. They have waited a crazy long time. Finally, they are in Haiti now for two weeks loving all 3 kiddos! https://themcandrewsclan.wordpress.com

Keep the good news coming! Jeez, we have to be getting close, right? We know there is a family on "the list" ahead of us but don't know if this has any bearing on when referrals will be made or in what order. So we're just hanging on and cheering on these families!

Advice on waiting from a five year old

In the past couple weeks there have been some signs that I might be falling apart a little bit.

Pulled over for expired plates.
Discovered my driver's license also expired.
I had no proof of insurance for the officer. (Lucky I wasn't arrested.)
Bounced 2 checks last month. 
Bear's report card came home. He is doing great in school except….he was tardy 23 times the past term. Bad mom. 
To add insult to injury, a letter showed up at home a few days later telling me the importance of promptness. 
I was reprimanded and fined for being late to day care. 
The refrigerator isn't working. It's been that way for a month. So our food is in the garagerator. 
I am on a grocery shopping strike. Why grocery shop without a refrigerator?
Dinner has come from Taco Bell at least 2 nights a week. Bean burritos.

Thank goodness I have my son to keep me together.

While putting bean burritos on the dinner table I said to Bear, "I'm feeling tired of waiting for baby brother/baby sister to come."

Bear looked at me and said sternly, "Mom, never give up your dream. Baby brother/baby sister has to come. They are coming, I know it."

I told him that I know they are coming too, maybe it's just that I don't want to wait. 

And then the most profound words came from my son, "But Mom, life's not that way." 

ME: "Really. Can you tell me what is life like then Bear?"

"Mom, life's like tooths. You can't lose them all right away. You have to wait. Sometimes they take years, like 6 or 7 or 39 years. You can't one day lose a tooth, next day lose a tooth, next day lose another. You have to wait in between."

 And he kept going….

"Or like school. You want to "gradulate" highschool right away. But you can't be in kindergarten and then done."

Wow was I humbled.

A couple nights later, after an intensely frustrating day at work, I blew up at Bear after he spilled his milk at the dinner table. I felt bad for blowing up and apologized to him, as we both cleaned up. Then, I discovered something Dodd did the day before that I let upset me and I made a harsh comment, even though Dodd wasn't home. 

BEAR: "Mom, that's not appropriate. That's not something you should say to your father."

ME: "You're right Bub, but he's not my father."

BEAR: "Well, it's not something you should say to MY father."

ME: "You're right, you're right. I'm really frustrated and I'm taking it out on you guys. I'm sorry Bub."

BEAR: "Mom, you have to let it out."

I looked at him incredulously. My 5 year old was giving me advice I really needed. In that moment I felt like I could ask him anything and he would understand and guide me.

ME: "How do I do that Bub? How do I let it out?"

BEAR: "Simple. With love." 

And with that, he climbed out of his seat, came over and wrapped his warm little arms around me and gave me a kiss. 

BEAR: "Are you better mama? Is it out?"

I was sobbing now, holding my son for dear life. "Yes Bub, it's coming out in buckets."

BEAR: "Ok, that's good. Don't cry now. I don't like it when you cry."

ME: "Ok, thank you Bubba Joe."

Thank God for my Bear. What ever would I do without him. 

How long to sing this song

I've thought about updating this blog many times the last few months. Each time I think about writing, I struggle with what to say.  Delays and setbacks in Haiti. Silence. Ethiopia finally, definitively closed. We lost a child we fell in love with.

Holding pattern. Holding pattern. Holding pattern. Good news is coming some day. The "right now" however is monotonous.

Each day we plod along, I hear him ask:

Do you trust me?

Yes, Lord I do.

Do you trust me?

Yes, Lord I trust you. 

Do you love me?

I love you Lord.

Lately, I've heard a new question:

Why don't you talk to me?

I don't know why I am not talking to him. I can't find my words. I fear I am squandering this latest season of waiting. Daily I'm tempted to zone out, numb out, check out. I'm a little bit stuck.

I know this place. I know so well that a time of intense waiting is fertile ground. That something can flourish here that can't be produced in any other soil.

I don't want this detour to go wasted.

He wants me to cry out to him. Something about the crying out that lets him in to do his work. Why can't I cry out?

I am reading, hoping it will spark something in this soggy soil. I found my words in a book, The Land Between, Psalm 40 and in two U2 songs. Thanks Bono.

My prayer found in these songs.

Lord I am tired.

My spirit is tired and thin. 

Take this soul and make it sing.

I've been patient. Plodded and endured. I will need more patience and endurance. 

I waited patiently for the Lord, he inclined and heard my cry.

I'm trying not to withdraw emotionally and silently slink into depression. 

Take this mouth, give it a kiss.

I am trying not to fall into a pattern of complaint. 

Take these hands, don't make a fist.

Help me find my words. Revive me in the monotony. 

I will sing a new song.

I grieve the loss of time. It hurts. Why do I doubt your timing in this gift of another child. 

Yahweh, Yahweh, always pain before a child is born.

You've proven before your promise is true. You've been good to me. 

He set my feet upon a rock, made my footsteps firm. Many will see, many will fear.

I have hope because you've given me hope.

Take this hope, teach me what to carry.

I choose joy, even with a breaking heart. 

Take this heart and let it break.

Let it break.

Yahweh, Yahweh, still I'm waiting for the dawn.

The sun is coming up on the ocean.

This love is like a drop in the ocean.

How long to sing this song.

How long to sing this song.