Where are we now?

Okay, time to bring you up to date . . .

I did NOT go to Haiti.

I tried,
but I did not make it.

Due to smoke rolling from the air vents of the plane as we prepared to take off,
causing us to return to the gate,
where we were honored to be some of the first to hear that American Airlines' computer system suffered a complete failure,
grounding all flights for many,
MANY hours,
I did not see my son.

I ate more trail mix in the Dallas / Fort Worth airport than anyone really should (bleh),
and after a long afternoon there,
traveled to Miami
where I learned my flight to Port-au-Prince had been cancelled.

of course

I stood in a very, VERY long line with some rather nice folks,
and was pleased to reach a rebooking agent by phone 1 and 1/2 hours into my wait.

The good news: with constant footage of the Boston happenings on TV,
travelers were uncharacteristically tolerant of the delays and furloughs . . .
the first day.

Unfortunately for me, the airline was unable to rebook me into PAP until 2:40PM the following day,
long after our scheduled 7:30AM interview at the U.S. Embassy.

Many, MANY emails later,
my dear, dear friend Sister Claudette had a photo of the necessary paperwork to enter the embassy
and blessed me by escorting my son, his biological parent and all of our paperwork that the attorney surprised her with to USCIS.

I ended up spending the next day waiting for a flight home,
where I did finally arrive after midnight,
only to find out my one checked bag had flown to Haiti without me.

It's okay though -
it was full of shoes for the orphanage.

Now, like many other passengers traveling that day,
I wait patiently to see if any of my flights will be reimbursed by the airline,
knowing that soon I will see my son in Haiti because
we will be going to court shortly.

Yippeeeee

Let's get that boy's name changed and get on the road to getting him a passport :)

hee hee

Hmmmm . . .

There is apparently another huge gasoline shortage in Haiti.

Word is that the Minister of Finance resigned,
the gourde is losing value,
and there is less electricity than the "normal" rolling electricity shortages. . .

and I am supposed to fly out on Tuesday
for our orphan investigation interviews with USCIS.

Once again,
I am certain that God has a plan,
knows the exact timing for our family,
but I am in the dark about it all. (Lol)

Attachment

The process of adoption is long and tortuous and involves lots of reading and training.
A common theme of  most pre-adoption text is attachment, as any adoptive mama or daddy can tell you.

Whether a child comes into a family from domestic relinquishment or foster care, or an international institution,
their past experience is key in forming new relationships with an accepting family.

I used to wonder about our little boy's ability to reciprocate affection based on his history of orphanage living.
We have been incredibly blessed that Dimitry not only reciprocates affection, but also initiates it during our visits.

Not all families are so fortunate,
and it takes a strong soul with a determined heart and mind to chip away at that protective shell and love on a child anyway,
knowing a squeeze back from your hug may not come.

(proactiveparenting.net)

What about kids who are not orphans or living in facilities or homes waiting for someone to love them for always?
What about children who have a home and live with one or both parents?

We have this neighbor . . .

At six years old, he lives with his dad and dad's girlfriend, with whom there is apparently little to no attachment.
The little boy will go house to house,
looking for a playmate,
and seems to want to be anywhere but at home.

The very first time he came over to play inside (winter time),
he was here for 10 hours,
without anyone checking on him or seeing if he had eaten.
In fact, the dad left during that time, without telling us, and the little boy told us no one was home (but we later found out that girlfriend was there.)
He has no siblings,
is not good at sharing
and struggles with being anything other than first at all games.

Last night, he had a sleep over.

My children made their way up onto the couch to snuggle during a movie,
and after seeing a funny look on his face,
I invited him to join us (on the couch, not necessarily to snuggle),
to which he politely declined.

The look on his face was completely lacking in recognition
of a family snuggled together under one blanket,
babies under mama's arms,
just being close.

He told my oldest that he doesn't see his mom because she choked him when she got mad.

Dad is mid-20's,
an ex-college sports dude,
trying to settle into a new life with a school aged son and very little to call his own.

And this child is already used to roaming alone until someone takes him in,
seems to be constantly hungry and thirsty
(albeit, not malnourished, but getting things on his own),
and is lacking basic nurturing and behaviors I consider normal for a first grader.

google.com: reagangirl.com

He does not live in an orphanage.
He has a parent.
He has a home and goes to school.
But who loves on him?
Who calls them their own and shows him that he belongs?

My heart breaks for the children of the world without homes and love and families.

My eyes have been opened to an entirely new group of these children.

Aging . . . Gracefully?

I remember my mom plucking little facial hairs in the visor mirror while my father drove the car.

When exactly does this become a grooming necessity for women?

At nearly 39 years old, people. That's when.

All those questions without answers,
like When did you first notice gray hairs?
or the age of pre-menopausal symptom onset are becoming more significant to me.

Answers like "hmmm, I don't know, grandma always colored her hair,"
or "I haven't been off hormones, so I can't answer that," aren't so helpful.

(Sorry mom)

I've been trying to figure out if my recent facial flushing, "hot flashes" and night sweats are related to the last year in my third decade, or my on-again, off-again relationship with anti-malarial medications in 2013.
But today, there was a little

gulp

hair.

Why aren't stray eyebrows and weird facial hairs visible at home??
Why is the lighting better in the car, at a stop light, or in the bathroom at work?

I used to think all the plastic surgery and "filler" injections were creepy when obvious on celebrities . . .
Now, I see photos of people my age on Facebook and I barely recognize them.

No, really, that has happened.

And plastic surgery?
Let's get real . . .
if offered to me at a price that was right, I'd do it . . .
although I'm sure that given my medical background,
I'd throw a fat embolism or a blood clot
or both
and end up being resuscitated because of my vanity.  Lol

And while we are on the topic,
what kind of crap is it that men and women age so differently?
Men develop distinguished creases from sun exposure (Robert Redford, anyone?)
and that weathered, leathery look (John Wayne) is charming.
Look at Paul Newman, for goodness sake.

Women who get too wrinkly, on the other hand, and end up looking like chain-smoking wet sheets that have been wadded up in the washer too long and forgotten about.

Cruel, cruel reality

This is our reward for bearing children, tending homes, working long hours then returning home to work some more, caring for for our parents when they age before our children are even grown . . .

Gravity takes its toll.
Stress leaves its mark.
Bones settle and muscles turn soft.
We get shorter.
Hair loses its elasticity and tone.

Men lose muscle tone and get thin.

Really??

What joke is this?
Sure, they lose their hair and also experience some sagging, but somehow it's okay and cute.

heavy sigh

Now, don't get me wrong,
I'm not upset about aging.
In fact, I consider it an honor
and an adventure.

I am so excited for what the future holds.

I am blessed to travel this journey with my best friend,
and plan to work even harder on being healthy and a good example for my children.

(By the way, I plan to waste away and be a tiny, little thing in my elderly years so my husband can carry me around in his pocket)

I am also going to start carrying tweezers in my purse.

Not all rainbows and sunshine

Yesterday we tried to explain to our children that after Dimitry comes home, it won't be easy on him.
It will be overwhelming, scary, unfamiliar and yes, a bit sad.
Grant had a difficult time grasping that.

But won't he be happy to be with us / me?

Sure, but imagine leaving the only home and the only friends (who are his family ) you've ever known.

We tried to explain that he may cry and get frustrated and be confused about whether or not he will go back to Haiti to live. 

Will he have his very own room, for the first time in his life?

Yep. 

Overwhelming.

He can get a snack or a drink whenever he wants and always have enough to eat . . . 

Strange. 

Permanent? 

Overwhelming.

Toys, TV, a full closet of clothes and his own bathroom: Really?

Overwhelming. 

Guilt producing??

We also talked about how he must feel when we visit then leave.

Eric told them about June 2012 when we were with him, had to travel to Jacmel for 2 days for surgery and then returned . . .

He wouldn't talk to us. 

He was hurt and angry, and obviously told his friends, who threw rocks at us.

Eventually, they began playing with Eric and then Dimitry came out.

When Michele sat on my lap, Dimitry wanted me too.

He was broken and didn't want to be left, for any reason.

Still brings tears to my eyes.

In less than two weeks, I will travel again, and see him for a very short day and 1/2 for visa interviews.

How confusing is this for him?

Hello Son. I love you. I want you so much. Goodbye.

I pray that, somehow, his heart will be protected through all this.

Someday, I hope he can understand how long we worked to give him a mommy and a daddy and siblings.

We never want to leave him.

Grant thinks they will never argue or disagree or not want to play with each other --

he doesn't believe us that it won't be a honeymoon.

I suppose all we can do is talk to them about it and love them all through it.

Dear God,

Please protect these little hearts that yearn for love and acceptance, but struggle to understand the wait and the permanence. Bring our child home to us soon. Let us hold him and kiss him and give him a forever family, finally.

Easter 2013

Having a happy Easter morning with our church family,

we sincerely hope and pray that next year's Easter photo will have a little more color in it ;)

With faith and trust in our Lord, we look towards the biological birth parent interview by USCIS in Port-au-Prince in two weeks. I will admit that the things I've read about intimidation tactics employed during these interviews concerns me, although I understand the need to validate the permanence of adoption and the lack of child trafficking in each situation. I pray for my son's heart as I sweep into the picture for only one full day and then leave him once again. Hopefully, we will soon have a court date and his adoption decree will be written, allowing our file to move on to MOI (the final and potentially longest stage of the Haitian process) and he will be with us forever, starting this year.

We miss you and love you so much Dimitry Gilles Edmunds.

Our sons: 13 months apart