tick, tock, tick, tock . . .

I'm racking my brain for ways to expedite my children's adoption processing in Haiti.
I keep thinking that there has to be something I can do or pay for or someone to talk with to get our paperwork off a desk and into motion.
What contacts can I make? How can I help our attorney and the nuns caring for my boys?
I read blogs and scour websites for updates on other families' victories, no matter how small.
I check the State Department website and all other sources I know to see if President Martelly has issued any statements, if policy changes have been  posted, etc., etc.
I try to distract myself with home improvements and planning a summer vacation . . .
but isn't the money better spent on getting the boys here? And what if I plan a vacation and we need to travel to Haiti instead?
(heavy sigh)

I knew this would be a lesson in humility and patience.
I knew it would be a long process.
I knew it would be frustrating.
I didn't know that my brain would think things like . . .

Perhaps we could sell a bunch of our stuff, save up some money and spend the summer in Haiti. Eric has the summer off anyway . . . the kids would eventually get used to beans and rice. They wouldn't starve. It would be good for them. I could help Katrine with anesthesia in Jacmel. We could learn to make cuisine the boys are used to. We could drive the paperwork process and have face to face contact with our attorney. We could love on the boys every day and start solidifying our family.

But sadly, I'm a realist.
I know that I will continue to check websites and read blogs and hope beyond hope that something is being done in our family's favor between emails to / from the attorney and Sisters.
I might plan a vacation.
And I will continue to talk with someone about expediting our adoption -- the only One who has control. He knows the plan and the timeline. He knows my anxiety and longing. He knows when we'll bring these boys home.
And that is my only comfort.

 



Birthday Wishes and Prayers

Today is my son's 6th birthday . . .
Not that he knows it.
He has never blown out birthday candles or had a cake with ice cream.
He's never seen Mylar balloons or opened presents wrapped just for him.
He doesn't know about bounce houses or parties at a swimming pool or trampoline gym.
No one makes a fuss over Dimitry . . .
YET.
Here's praying that my boy is home for his 7th birthday.
We love you little man.

Strange Stuff

There is a dwarf African frog named Xavier Pickle that lives in my kitchen.
He only eats on Tuesdays and Fridays.
Strange, but true, stuff.

Dinnertime Drama

My going to Haiti is difficult on my biological children . . .
not because they miss me (they do, but that's not why), but because when I return, I am a No Waste Fool.

Tonight at dinner, we made up some new rules. The kid are 4 and 7, and both picky eaters. No more catering to the petite crowd. I've gained a lot of weight eating out and choosing convenience foods, but no longer. I've entered into a whole foods stage and I'm determined to cut out the processed foods, refined sugar, and eat at home more.

There is one problem: I don't cook. Don't get me wrong, I like to cook, I'm just no good at it. I never took home economics or any other useful course like that. I took extra science and upper level math classes. Looks good on a resume and helps out in the anesthesia department, but not so helpful at home.

I can make lasagna, several different ways, in fact. Spaghetti; quiche; biscuits and gravy (thank you Dad); most anything out of a cookbook . . . but not so good with basics or being creative or adding much flavor to things. I have a full spice cabinet and I use spices  . . . which is good or the things I make would just taste like cardboard. My husband, on the other hand, is a fabulous breakfast chef and makes pancakes to die for!

Anyway, I'm onto a new phase, which included cleaning out my very full cookbook cabinet (anyone need a volume of Southern Living's Annual Recipes?) Less meat, more things that grow from the ground / on a tree / come from nature but not slaughtered . . . you get the picture.

And the children are going to join me / us.

Fewer chicken nuggets (gag me); more colors on the plate. No "ooh gross" at the dinner table or "I just want a hot dog on a bun with ketchup please."

Tonight we had salmon. It was lovely, really. Lemon, sea salt, pepper, rosemary, garlic olive oil . . . very healthy. Not so flavorful. Roasted baby portabellas with zucchini and bell peppers - yum. The sweet potatoes were far from done, so we had sweet potato fries. It was quite fun making a meal on a week night with my handsome spouse! We set the entire table with all plates arranged similarly and counted down to the nostril flaring and dirty looks after we called them to the table. They did not disappoint. After a while, I offered ranch salad dressing and ketchup (it didn't help).

I ended up in tears (nice).
I have two children who go to bed hungry EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, while these two complain and moan about each meal that isn't donut gems, yogurt, mac & cheese or processed meat. I told them that.

New rule in our house: eat what we make or you get cereal for dinner - and mom and dad choose what kind and how much. (We better start serving more substantial after school snacks). Tonight, it was oatmeal, and not the instant sugary Quaker stuff, but the chunky, flax seed, healthy kind mama likes. Hee hee. Funny how good it tastes when the only other option is salmon . . . which my oldest kept trying to free, by the way. "Be free little fish! Go back to the ocean with your friends." Nice.

Post-Haiti 2012

When I think of children, I think of blessings.

When I think of Haiti, I think of gracious people in an incredibly poor land.

I have heard people say that the destitute people who suffer in unbelievable poverty are in their situation for a reason. As if a human being would choose hunger, illness, lack of property or shelter, etc.

I have been asked why I voluntarily leave my home, my family and all the comforts I know to travel to a country that is generally dirty, consumed by illness and poverty, where children live in orphanages to avoid starvation to provide medical care. My question is Why don't they?

Last week, I was fortunate to work alongside three orthopedic surgeons, a urologist, a plastic surgeon and a few Haitian OBGYNs to deliver care to some of the most needy people I've met. The nursing staff who provide care to these patients do so, like the surgeons and anesthesia team (myself and a dear friend of mine), because they know what a difference it will make in these families lives.

We fixed club feet, deformed limbs, burn contractures, hernias, hydroceles, drain abscesses, remove masses, assist with C-section deliveries (can you imagine that in Haiti?), and even performed a radical mastectomy for a mom nursing a 7 month baby with obvious cancer that had eaten away 2/3 of her breast. Would we heal her? Of course not. In a country of tainted water, limited resources, dirt floors and malnourishment, any treatment we could offer would surely be given too late. What we could do is remove the oozing, open mess of tissue and apply a skin graft to protect her from further infection until her disease finishes running its course.

No one goes on "mission" trips to heal a country. One group cannot heal the pain of poverty, malnourishment, endemic disease, HIV / AIDS, social injustice, starvation, sadness or untimely death. One group CAN . . . one individual CAN . . . make a difference. A difference in the lives of a community, a family, another individual.

Don't believe me? Resuscitate a grey baby for a mother who's been in labor for God only knows how long, without family following a home lost in the earthquake. How about the teenager who was raped in a tent city but believes this baby is somehow a gift . . . in a place where children end up in orphanages to avoid starvation. Fix a foot on a 9 year old boy who's never worn a shoe because his foot is so deformed it won't fit.

Everyone has the opportunity to make their own choices in life. I am, in no way, better than anyone else because I travel to a third world country to provide medical services. I do not feel superior because I have the skills and the resources to do what I do. I do not judge others who chose not to do the things I do. I don't criticize the coworkers who carry $400 purses and have several in their closets. It's a choice. I have been blessed to have my eyes opened to the needs of others, and even more blessed to have the support of my family and employer to do something about it.

Sunday, I watched a special on Operation Smile with my children. It was wonderful to have them see the communities in need and the difference that one group of medical providers can make in one week's time. My son identified the anesthesia provider and saw the fear and appreciation in the patients' families' faces. Hearing about children who never attended school, were believed to be cursed because of their facial deformities, were taken into the community literally wearing sacks over their heads, were ridiculed and shunned because of cleft lips and palates broke my heart. Seeing their little faces, and their hearts, healed was fabulous! Even my four year old understood the transformation.

You may not understand the calling I hear to reach out to the poor. You may think I'm crazy for selling my home and moving to a slightly lower income, but more diverse, neighborhood. You may call me "irresponsible" for leaving my children to travel to a country that is not known for its safety and abundance, but I think I'm teaching them that the world is bigger than our family. Our security and comfort and abundance is appreciated, but being able to provide those things for another is precious.



Home is where my heart is . . . divided

Last night I returned from a week of doing surgery in Jacmel, Haiti.
I have been so incredibly blessed with friends and peers in the medical field who not only share my passion for caring for the people of Haiti, but also support my family in our journey of adoption.
I am still tired this evening, after visiting with my church family, completing my travel laundry, getting the house filled with groceries and taking a little nap.
I've been snuggling two of my babies and missing two others.
My good friends who made up the Kansas City portion of our surgical team traveled with me on Friday to visit Dimitry and I am so happy they did. It was good to share our experience through more than just photos and words. My boy looked so handsome!
As always, it was difficult to leave him, but I have returned home with renewed energy to get him home. I pray that 2012 is the year . . .
This morning at church, we heard about racial justice and discussed poverty and what we, as Christians, are called to do about this global issue. How perfectly appropriate following the week I just had.
I'm too fatigued to write much tonight, especially since I'm headed back to work tomorrow . . . which stinks, being that my hubby and two lovely children will be home from school. Oh well, there is work to be done.
When I'm rested, I'll write more and hopefully share some photos from this past week.
Thank you for your prayers and your support of our family during my travels.

A fresh start

Okay, I am a bit behind.

Christmas came and many celebrations left us blessed with family time, tasty food and lots of stuff.

We are finally a one mortgage family again (Thank you God!) and I am looking forward to breathing normally again.

A week or so ago, it occurred to me that I've been doing a lot of worrying lately. I've been concerned about the house closing (that was scheduled three times before it finally happened) and the costs of Christmas and year end taxes before us.
I've been stressed about the excess in our lives and the "need" to buy gifts and show our appreciation for everyone through stuff, while our boys remain institutionalized in a third world country.
I've stared at the dark ceiling at night wondering what can be done to accelerate this political paperwork hell that is adoption.
I've worried about my weight and eating right. I've worried about my children, here and there. I've worried about neglecting my spouse in this busy season that is supposed to be filled with love and wonder and excitement.
I stated, more than once, that I needed just a little more time to feel the Christmas spirit this year.

Then it hit me . . .
Why am I worrying so much?

Where is my faith?

Where did that calm quiet go that reminds me to Let Go and Let God? What happened to letting Him take to reigns and guide me?

This isn't for me to worry about. He brought us here and it is He who will guide us through the process.

His hand is in this adoption and His hand is in my life. These children are His; I am their guardian.

2012 is a new beginning. I am hopeful and I pray that this is the year our family grows by two. I am excited to prepare for them, physically, emotionally, financially and spiritually. He has opened many doors for me and this family the past two years -- I can't wait to see what He has in store for us again!