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.
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."
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