Get a load of this!

So, this is kinda funny.

Not ha ha ha, but more like are you freaking kidding me?!

18 days to submit paperwork . . .
and I sent a couple more emails last night.
I contacted Father Joe with a plea to intervene and talk with Mr. Law face-to-face on our behalf.

I also emailed The Man. This time, we offered a "financial incentive" for Mr. Law to get off his tail and act. The response I received describes his efforts on our behalf, while the nuns are apparently trying to sabotage this adoption.

WOW

My GI system was not acting quite right this morning,
before the aforementioned communication,
but it's difficult to describe the state it's in now.

This man must be very confident in his position to say such things.

Oh, and there is surely a special place in hell for individuals who have such generous resources and means in a country plagued by corruption and destitution, but display the level of apathy and indolence as this.

To state that all of his efforts have been for our case, when so many months have passed with my begging for his intervention and assistance, is more than absurd.

There have been no secrets or underestimation on my part about the lack of resources in Fondwa available to the Sisters, yet he now has the audacity to blame them for our lack of progression and goes as far to say that it may be intentional.

Yes, I've heard that devastating poverty and kind hearts will make people vindictive and malicious.

WTH?

Oh my word, Mister.
I'm glad you don't answer to me ultimately. I'm sure I could never give you what you rightly deserve.

Along this journey, many obstacles have entered our path, but if the enemy thinks we will give up and crawl away with our sad tails between our legs, he is going to be greatly disappointed.
We are supported and loved and faithful.

There are too many children waiting for families . . .

I may not be the strongest or the toughest or the most patient of waiting mothers,
but I'm not going anywhere.

(and I could probably get in trouble for all of this)

Dimitry is our son.
Someday, this journey will be a memory, but the outcome will be such a wondrous blessing.

20 days to submit.

Watching Isaac.
Praying the forecast is wrong and it won't hit Haiti with hurricane force winds.

21 days to submit . . .
and the finger pointing has begun.

"I have done my part, but (this person) . . ."

Yeah, tell to someone who cares.

Just get it done.

tick tock, tick tock . . .

23 days left to submit paperwork.

I'm not anxious or anything.

I'm not tapping my foot
or spasming each time a new email comes across my phone.
No, I'm not dying to send another email asking my attorney
Are you there yet?!

Yesterday, we may have received our miracle.
Sister has a death certificate.
Yeah, that's right! We got it. We got it!

That means we only need the hand off to occur from the Sisters to Mr. Attorney
and he needs to feel the fire lit under his behind to submit the dossier.

23 days . . .
and if it happens
(as it should),
Dimitry will get a forever family.

Otherwise?
The Hague requirements go into effect in October
and it could be another two years.

No, that is not a misprint.

Dear God,
I know you hear me.
I know you love your children.
I know your hand is in this . . .
and we are in the palm of your hand.
Please bless this process
and the people driving the process
and the paperwork
and the families who love these children and need you to bring them home.

Thank you for this desire in my heart.
Thank you for the resources and the support you have blessed us with.
Thank you. Thank you.

A Plea for Prayer Warriors

 For anyone who has bitten their fingernails down into the quick and cried themselves to sleep over adoption stress, you'll understand the urgency of this post.

On August 16th, Haiti's IBESR reopened for adoption dossiers
for 30 days only.
Attorneys and agencies have a window of 1 month's time to submit dossiers before IBESR will, once again, close and then reopen at the end of October under the Hague Convention rules & regulations.
That's the plan, anyway.

In a nut shell, for us that means the loss of a lot of money and starting the process near the beginning with an agency.
It may also mean the loss of Dimitry . . . that remains to be seen.

Our paperwork has been sitting in Port-au-Prince since October 21, 2011 where it has gathered dust, waiting for one, single piece of paper.
Despite obtaining legal parental relinquishment from Dimmy's father, we have had no proof of maternal status . . . which, is apparently the end all in Haiti.

I have prayed.
I have pouted.
I have recently been grieving and feeling helpless, soaking in self-pity at the loss of this child's potential future.

You see, if we are unable to obtain a death certificate for this child's mother, he will be labeled unadoptable.

So
very
wrong.

I am asking
no,
I am pleading
for your prayers.

Not only for our family and my child in an orphanage in Haiti,
but for ALL the orphans in Haiti.
So many families' hopes and dreams are tied into this time frame.
So many what ifs exist right now.

Please join our family in the inundation of prayers for Haiti's orphans.
There really is only One Being who has control over the fate of these children,
and while HIS plan is unknown to us,
I cannot believe that He wishes for his children to live a life that continues the cycle of poverty.

Starting today, the self-pity and depression stops.
No more tears and sadness,
napping and knoshing.
Off the couch and off my butt.
I will take care of myself and get serious about caring for the body God has given me,
while praying intently for the bodies and souls of His children in Haiti.

I may not have the power to push paperwork through in a foreign country . . .
I may not have the ability to feed thousands
or provide life-sustaining care to children who have little,
but I can pray
and I can fast
and I can be an example of God's love on this earth
while supporting organizations and charities that do have the power to make a difference.

On October 6th, Eric and I will participate in the 2nd annual
Hope for Haiti 5K in Kirkwood, Missouri.
100% of the registration fees and donations from this event go towards The Haiti Orphan Project's building of a school in Village de Vie, Haiti.

http://haitiorphanproject.org/engage/events/annual-hope-5k/

People, working together, can make a difference.
People, praying for a miracle, can make a difference.

Please, please join us in this endeavor.
Prayer can change lives . . . I believe this
and I'm asking for your help.

We need a miracle.
My son needs a miracle.

New Start

While I've been wallowing in self-pity over our adoption,

my babies have been busy growing up.

Today was the first day of a new school year,

and for my five year old,

a whole new adventure.

It was like Christmas morning around here today.

6AM and the singing, dancing and excitement began.

The second grader thought his little sister was

Crazy.

My husband suggested we should've recorded it,

to remind her, many years from now,

how very, very excited she was

to go to school.

She literally skipped to the bus stop.

Let's hope the joy lasts.

Now, this mama is going grocery shopping . . .

Alone.

(hee hee)

Like everyone else

So, I will be the first to admit that I am not unique.

I'm actually pretty average.

What? That's not so bad.

Growing up I was "cute."
Never beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, etc.
Cute.
My older sister always considered that a four letter word . . .
which it is, but you know what I mean.
It didn't bother me much because I could see it.
I knew who the beautiful girls were. Everyone did. I was not part of that genre.

I wasn't homecoming queen . . . or even a part of the court.
I wasn't a varsity cheerleader (broke my arm as a freshman and killed that dream.)
I wasn't a star athlete, in any sport.
I played the cello and sang, well enough to get college scholarships, but not everyone plays the cello or sings alto, so I served a purpose.
I wasn't in a sorority. Heck, my sorority girlfriends in nursing school are the ones who taught me about lip and eyeliner! (No, I'm serious.) Thank you Juli and Trixie :)

I was blessed with the love of a cute, cute boy . . .
who turned into one heck of a handsome man . . .
and I married him . . .
and as nature would have it, he continues to get more and more good looking and attractive and sexy,
while I,
a woman,
fight gravity and the effects of stress on my outward appearance.
So unfair.

I will say that over the years, John Frieda and the Pantene line have done a lot for me.
Thank goodness for product!
Why couldn't my hair look this good back when I was super self-conscious?

Anyway . . .
When it comes to adopting, I'm guessing I'm not all that unique either.

I've hit the point of major discouragement.
Two years into my heart's desire and my son(s) are no closer to being home as part of our family.
Our pockets are much, much lighter from all the money going out,
but there are no more children in our home than the two angels we started with.

I find solace in the words of other adoptive mamas who understand how your spiritual self is deeply affected by the waiting and working and the brick walls repeatedly placed in front of you.
Recently, another mama said to me "oh, that's the point where we nearly walked away."

Oh my word.
Now, she gets it.

I believe that the call to adopt and care for the fatherless is a Godly gift.

I believe that the Enemy works hard to put up barriers, plant doubt, throw racism and prejudice in our faces, create stress and conflict in our personal lives, and wear down our resolve to follow our hearts and the Voice that called us to the task.

It's kind of like being in junior high or high school -
listening to the bad things, believing the negative thoughts and feelings
becomes easier than believing the positive and the good.

I find myself getting sucked into the drama of political battles over dates and specifics and titles.

I read the news posts about documents drafted and leaked (however intentionally) and families freaking out how their paperwork and their process timeline will be affected.

Lately, although I keep up to date by reading the gossip news updates,
I feel rather numb to it all.

Like it doesn't really affect me at all anyway.

We are no closer.
There is no one with power on our side over there fighting for us or for our child.

There are so many families in the exact same boat as we are in.

Waiting.

Working to do all they can do.

Praying.

Hoping.

Wondering if it will really ever end happily.

Flipping pages on the calendar and watching biological children grow,
while answering their "when are the boys coming home?" with more
I don't knows.

Adoptive Miscarriage

So, it took me a while to define the grief I've been feeling, and someone else in the adoption atmosphere labeled it for me: miscarriage.

I have suffered an adoption miscarriage.
I am grieving the loss of dreams for my child, time invested in the planning of our future and am realizing that I will never hold my son in my arms and share a name with him.

Terms like paper pregnant are cute and hopeful.

Miscarriage, on the other hand, is anything but.

Can we "try again?"
Sure.

But that doesn't take away the pain of realization that the child I cherish as my son will not know the joy or the love of a forever family.

I will never be his Mama.

He won't wear the clothes hanging in his closet
or see the books I've made him documenting our relationship thus far.

I understand protecting the children and the families and the process of adoption internationally.

I get the importance of the Hague Convention and what it's membership can mean for a country as poverty-ravished and torn apart as Haiti.

I do not understand setting laws that are so strict and binding that literally thousands of children will be deemed unadoptable.

What a horrible, hideous word.

How can any child be banned from having someone love them and call them their own forever.

How can it be alright for any child to grow up in an orphanage?
Even the very best orphanage?

I am not naive.

Abandonment, extreme poverty, illness, starvation and being orphaned are not new crises.

Why can we send explorers to Mars
(for something ridiculous like 2.2 billion dollars),
but not free children from prisons in Africa, slavery in the Caribbean and institutions world wide?

Why do babies die of malaria, malnourishment and hepatitis when these things are curable and, worse yet, preventable?

Photos courtesy of Google Images

How do you grieve something that you've worked so long for?
dreamed about?
prayed over?
sacrificed for?
hoped for?
and loved . . .
but that really was never even yours at all?

A Few Changes

You may notice some changes if you've read this blog before.
Some pictures have been removed.
Icons have been rearranged.
Priorities have changed.

IBESR has not reopened . . . which doesn't matter to me now anyway.
It's time to rearrange.
We will no longer be allowed to pursue an independent adoption in Haiti.
I am fervently searching (and begging) for an agency that can assist us in completing our adoption of Dimitry.
I have accepted that we are not meant to have Alby in our family. There are too many "obstacles" that we cannot overcome and no amount of praying, bargaining or crying will change that.

I cannot
I will not
accept that Dimitry is destined to spend his childhood in an orphanage when we love him and want to provide him a forever home.

I do believe that we are called to care for the fatherless.
I believe that my heart was called to Haiti for a reason.
Perhaps several different reasons.

I am sure that the blessings in our lives were given to us to share
and that orphan care is my heart's desire.




I will continue to pray
and believe
and hope
that a way will be found to bring our boy home . . .
and I believe that,
if not Alby, than another child,
waits for us in Haiti.

There are things I love
things I cherish
things I believe are worth fighting for
and I'm a long way away from giving up.