help our children be un-STUCK

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

hallelujah!!

v sings her praises for hope house! she is one happy kid!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCpa-Ip6fvA&feature=youtu.be

the day came


In keeping with the theme of posting ancient topics in my life several months past due, this is what was intended to be posted on February 14, 2014:

It happens!

I married the human calculator. and I've never been completely awesome at math. But I'm fairly certain (enough that I'll commit a number to a google search and publish my tally) that after 1,460 days, one day shy of four years, including one leap year day = 1,460 days exactly since we officially filed for permission to adopt from Haiti…and the boys are finally HOME! Happy Valentine’s Day 2014 – the year of the horse (and I’m a HORSE)!

Happy 10th Anniversary to the love of my life. Thank you for living our dream with me. I love you.


10 months


March 12, 2014 

10 months ago today my boys left their orphanage with me. no more dirty mattresses. no more cramped, dank, and musky orphanage room. no more open air filled with mosquitos. no more bucket baths. no more rice and beans for their two daily meals. no more orphanage.  today marks 10 months of that much more love, the fulfillment of all of my promises to them, and 10 months of daily healing. tomorrow will be 3 months since they came home. we are 10 months closer to their futures. we are 3 months into our amazing lives of 4/5. please send your love to the children who continue to sleep on those dirty mattresses in those cramped, dank, and musky rooms with no mosquito nets. they deserve the love of a family. they deserve all of the wonderful things living has to offer. they deserve better. please celebrate that our boys are home. but please never forget all those who remain there.

cheers, ten  months. 

with love,
the club of bittersweet members.

flashback of agony. up. down. all around. my ridiculous emotions.

i wrote this sometime in early january, 2014. i had spent many nights lying in bed with too many thoughts. too many tears stained my pillow cases as i thought of leo lying in bed looking up at his rhino valentine. a momma and baby. a baby belongs with its momma. and i was an ocean away.

i'm not sure these words make any sense to anyone but me. but this is the scattered reality of my brain on adoption depression as i swiped ants off of my forehead and felt the sweat of haiti's nights drip down my chest.

Which way is up?
Which way is down?
Am I on the bottom looking up?
Or am I at the end looking back?
Am I at the beginning still waiting to start?
Am I at the end reflecting on all that has happened?
All are/is true. It's all happening.
It's all starting.
Again.
It's also all ending.

When will the day come?
Will it come fast enough?
Or too quickly?

Will I think that it’s too quiet
On the long and lonely nights?
I repeat in my mind, “let’s go home.”
The gun shots break the silence.
And I think of all the violence.

My heart needs the respite of my home away from this home.
How do I come to explain all that I have seen?
Thinking of bringing them home is just a dream.

Years and obstacles, countless tears. 
It’s all such all a waiting game.
A game.
There should be no such thing.

Tossing and turning, and flipping over in my sleep.
How do I explain everything that I’ve seen?
I’ve seen hunger.
I’ve seen pain.

A labor of love to live through each day.
Smiles that erase all of the strain.
With a love that I’m so thankful to have gained.

Write all these words down and share them with us.
They all say they’ll buy the book; on that I can trust.

Say all you can say. 
Don’t mind every look.
Keep your head up today!
And remember to write that book!

I read all the loving the words, as if they’ve been spoken, I’ve felt.
“We are all praying for you.”
“You’re doing the good work.”
“God is using you as his tool.”
Though I feel like a mule.
I heed the warnings and follow the rules.

But how can I start to explain,
How did we make it each and every day?
Crashing, colliding, trying not to drown.
Sorrow flooding me like an ocean.
I feel each wave pulling me down.

How can I try to explain?
For so long now my heart has beaten outside of my chest.
There are no more words for this pain.
And I have given all of my best.

Though I’m close, I am not yet done.
Victories will be mine, but they are not won.

How can I carry the torch beyond?
I’m leaving this island missing one.
My heart begs to stay until I’m done.
There is no bell I have not rung.

The night rushes in like thundering rain,
And my heart can’t take all this pain.
My last night so wished for will come so fast.
How to make our time now last?

Is it the end?
Or just the beginning?
Are we losing?
Or are we winning?

They sleep. 
It's quiet.
Their dreams are my comfort.
They wake.
They smile.
I enjoy their artwork.

I'd do it again a hundred or thousand times over.
I'm doing it today.
I'm finishing, but starting over.
Time to sleep, so down my head I lay.
We'll do this again tomorrow.
It will be a new day.

19 and counting


It has been three months. But I’m on my way again. Under the silver bird I once again saw the clear blue Caribbean sea. Long swaths of dusty clouds filled the skyline ahead of us and to the side. Breaking up the blue, I saw the islands of Turks and Caicos.  We were close. Within the span of my finishing a soft white dinner roll we would be descending. And then we would be turning left and heading into the bay of Port au Prince. And I’d wage through the sea of people to find someone waiting to help me hoist my bags onto a cart and wheel them over the broken concrete and out to the car waiting for me. A car driven by a good friend waits to then deliver me to the sweetest little smile in the world, V’s.

The future trips filled my mind. The many times I planned to arrive on the island I love so much…the breeze I couldn’t wait to feel that surrenders me feeling right at home in the heat and the dust. The breeze that reminds me how hot I am even though it feels so good to break up the stagnating heat causing the drizzle down my spine.  These future trips are what I think of every time I land in Haiti. I dream of how I plan to bring my children home to see their motherland, home to see their families, home to feel the heartbeat of this beautiful country; those trips are drawing closer. As many times as I am en route to Haiti, I still find myself anxious to arrive and breathe her in again. The feel of Haitian ground under my feet is a comfort that is hard to describe. It feels like home. My self settles. My mind relaxes. I feel at ease even though I’m nearly a complete stranger to so many. Still the same, the familiar faces I hope to see remind me that I am in fact, home.

We touched down and I followed the format I have so many times before. There was the greeting coming off the plane. Then the band playing just prior to customs. And then there were conversations with the bag handlers who recognized me. And the woman who rents the luggage carts. There were the familiar smiles from the ladies selling Barbancourt. A familiar face inspects my extra large bags…and I sort of wonder if they shuttle me through this area intentionally so that I can say hello to more smiling and familiar faces. And they are always willing to hoist my 70 lb bags onto the table to insure I am not smuggling medications or half a cow into this country. More smiles when I purchase the unlimited wifi for my Haiti sim card at Natcom. I peel off the tape that permanently holds my swap card on the back of my phone case and replace it with my Verizon card. This has become old hat. It’s a small symbol of the shift I make when I come to this country. It might seem odd. But in this time with communication options, it still strikes me as neat that I have the opportunity to communicate so freely here.  A few minutes after negotiating through the process, I was ready to begin my latest adventure in Haiti.

The piercing bright ball of fire in the sky seemed closer than ever when I emerged the building to look for the smiling face of my friend. And then he waved and the joy of seeing him was another reminder that I am so lucky to have made such beautiful friendships in this country. This man is like a father to my child. His wife, like a mother. They not only care for her now, but I know that they will be like family to us always.  We cover the basics of conversation while we follow the patterns and turns of the roads to find our way to the quiet neighborhood where my heart is nestled.  Along the way I found myself so happy to have a good conversation with a friend who lives his life for others; like my daughter. And in doing so, he and his wife live their life for my happiness. Because without them doing so, there is no possibility of my sanity. Thank you, God, for these people.

The new wall is almost finished. And the gate that keeps everyone safe opens…and we have arrived. She is one more door away. Oh the joy I feel when she walks toward me. The adjustment my eyes need to go from the brightness of the sun to the shaded inside of the building gives me a brief delay in seeing her. But she sees me right away. She is prepared. They have told her I’m coming. And she watched the door. She walked over to me and looked to search for familiarity. It took her a few minutes of sitting with me, freshly powdered neck, soft smell of fresh lotion, and perfect little twists in her now long hair (a huge sign of her improved nourishment and resulting health). Her big eyes searched with their little twinkle of old soul…and it clicked. “Mommy.” She said it with confidence and comfort. And she sat on my lap and filled my heart with the kind of overflowing love that melts me every single time.

Mommy is home, love. Mommy is home. 19 times and counting.

this mother's day was just right

not too hot, not too cold, but just right.

this mother's day could have been drastically different. it could have resulted in my desire to stay in bed all day with the covers pulled over my head. just as several christmases and other holidays have in the past four years. though i never give in to those dreaded feelings and do my best to put one foot in front of the other and buck up for britt and leo; this mother's day could have absolutely done me in. that is, if it weren't for the comfort of knowing that i hadn't left v behind in haiti with no hope. i left her in haiti in the loving arms of hope. hope house.

and when i woke up on mother's day to the beautiful smile of my youngest little love, i was able to get out of bed and firmly plant my feet and begin the best mother's day yet. v was happy. and i was happy to fully celebrate my day with britt, leo, djedly & parker with significant joy and happiness knowing that v knows how much she is loved.

thank you and happy mother's day to my dear friend mallery who made sure that mother's day was this beautiful! thank you to the beautiful soul who created v, edline. happy mother's day to ephetta, the loving woman who created my sweet boys. happy mother's day to darline. happy mother's day to my moms. happy mother's day to j's moms. and happy mother's day to all the beautiful mother's in our lives.