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.