she

this lovely short video was produced by amazing people i am happy and proud to call my friends.

gracie pfaff, the founder of harvest 107, is a bright and caring young woman with a passion for nourishing the underserved and underprivileged. this is a glimpse into the world of, "she". it is a small and beautiful reminder of what women are capable of. it was created for international women's day to honor those who support the work of harvest 107. i'm a proud supporter. will you consider joining us?

www.harvest107.org

https://vimeo.com/121599994

frentz neptune, human extraordinaire!

if you see my facebook posts, then you know that a significant bit of the work i do with the haiti foundation against poverty is to raise funds for sponsorship of children at our les bours school of hope in port au prince, haiti. sponsorship of these children is vital. in les bours there are few options for children to receive education, proper health care, and nutrition. there is a bleak future predicted for many who don't have the opportunity to obtain an education. there just simply aren't doors for them to open. there aren't choices for them to make that will allow for hope - except school. frentz neptune, our favorite resident renaissance man at hfap, is a perfect example of the result of loving sponsorship and the impact it can make on a single child. frentz was sponsored and has grown into an incredibly talented and resourceful man who we credit with keeping the functions of hfap, and our crèche, hope house, as well as our staff and a significant amount of our daily functions going. simply said, we would not be who and what we are without frentz.

long before our founder mallery opened the les bours school of hope, she traveled to haiti and found a land that became home. she fell in love with haiti and in return gave her heart to the country and her people. she held and cared for babies at the sister's infant malnutrition mission founded by mother teresa. she sat and prayed over the ailing children and watched as flies landed on their tender faces and as she soothed their fears and wiped their tears, one of the prayers she said was that someone would come to the malnutrition center and build screens to prohibit the insects that exacerbated the health concerns of the children. little did she know that her prayer would be answered by the man who would become her future husband. frentz was a student of the school run by the mission and works still today to return the blessings he received through his sponsored education. after a skilled builder who visited haiti on a mission taught frentz to make screens, he knew that his calling for this new taught task was to make screens for sister's to help protect the children. frentz gave back, and mallery's prayer was answered. 


frentz is a man of strong faith and he is using the opportunities given to him to help as many people as he possibly can. he is a good man and he seeks opportunities for others to create a future for themselves as well. there are many wonderful stories that can be shared about frentz. he is one of the hardest working people i have ever met. and he happens to possibly be my daughter's favorite human, which places his rank pretty high in our family. frentz was born in the same city as my son parker, jeremie. it is by all accounts a lovely city located on the southwestern tip of haiti. he was raised in port au prince, not far from where my boys and v were living before we brought the boys home and moved v to hope house. as frentz grew, he came to find that his education was not easy to obtain - and as he would share, he knew that he owed a debt of success to those who believed in him and supported him. he took school and the education he received seriously and knows that without the love and compassion of a couple that sponsored him, that he wouldn't be the man he is today. 

frentz has a special way with people that few have. his personality is admirable and his ability to ascertain the truth is as well. he is a commendable man and serves as a beautiful example of a leader and a strong but tender man for all of the children he is helping raise. he is well respected by his staff and is a wonderful husband, father, son, and friend.

in a given day i have witnessed frentz begin by greeting a group of the children at hope house and instantly reminding them that they are a group of super heroes. they all love him and enjoy the time he happily spends with them. each of the children has an individual relationship and respect for him, and i stand in awe of how he has accomplished the balance of guiding and disciplining the children while they also do not fear but respect and love him. he moves through his day orchestrating and maintaining the hfap haiti headquarters as well as what i would refer to as juggling a random series of duties that is as impressive as a unicycler carrying an elephant spinning a plate on a stick. the sheer number of items on his proverbial daily to do list is dizzying, and yet he dutifully handles each task with professionalism and patience. from dozens of phone calls with lawyers to help facilitate the adoption process for our adoptive and biological families, networking with haitian nationals and ex-pats to continually keep our facilities running, answering questions for adoptive families, developing business plans, running errands, fixing things, having play time with his son jayvan, paying forward favors for other ex-pats in our community, attending to the needs of our mission teams, negotiating improvements for our school in les bours, planning the future, designing products for our ladies program, making more phone calls to facilitate the future for all of the children in his care, playing with the children again, answering more questions, running more errands, and somewhere in the middle of all of it eating lunch and then starting the process all over again in the afternoon. in short, frentz is working all of the time.  on top of all that he manages, frentz is also an extremely talented photographer. he is passionate about his work behind the camera and captures the subjects of his work in a beautifully inspired way. it is quite a treat to see him work creatively. 

frentz has a wide network of friends. recently we were on our way back to port from montruis for a quick respite trip to the beach when the front left tire split on one of our suv's. within minutes frentz had a proverbial escort brigade that showed up. considering that we were at least 45 minutes from the compound, but luckily not far from our school, it was a refreshing scene to look around and find friendly faces hopping off of moto's and support police staff showing up to make sure that our small band of relative foreigners would remain safe while we fixed the tire. but not only is frentz's networking so amazing that we had help while we were on the side of the road, we also received an escort back to the neighborhood. this was an example to me of what a great person frentz is. he made a phone call and a small force showed up to insure our safety. it was a small slice of awesome indeed.


one of my favorite memories since joining the hfap family by moving v to hope house was the day i received an update photo of v in frentz's arms. the one you see above. it was immediately obvious to me that she was happy. relaxed. leaning back on his shoulder with a big smile on her face. and he glanced at her with a deep and true love that confirmed everything i already knew...that v was in the most loving place possible outside of my arms. i was so comforted to see her being resuscitated. she was just starting to thrive. not just sustained. a small but vivid burst of life was sparking in her in ways that i hadn't seen in so long. and it was simply beautiful to see how loved she was - summed up in one wonderful photo of a fleeting moment in life captured for me to cherish. this is the best part of his day, i'm sure. the part where he sees the proof of his hard work. where he can share a few quiet moments with the children he helped rescue. the children he keeps healthy. the children he knows will have a future because of his sacrifices. 


working with special people like mallery and frentz fills my heart. i'm proud to call them my friends and i'm elated that i can work to support them.  i'm incapable of fully expressing how thankful i am for this dream team couple and for the work they do. i'm thankful that frentz is the answer to mallery's prayers, and together they are working every single day to change the future for so many in haiti and make our dreams of bringing home our daughter come true.

sincerely, hot in haiti

many of us dream of a day when we can run away from the burdens of life in the united states and live on a warm, lush, tropical island.

then there are those of us who live on one of the most scorchingly hot parcels of land in the middle of the ocean, directly under the blistering sun, and we dodge the rays of fire that shoot down upon us all day long in search of a small pool of shade and a breeze that reminds us that we are losing precious ounces of fluid with each breath. we can look around and see palms, and signs of the tropics, like a blue sky, the sounds of roosters crowing, and goats greeting tap tap's bumping up the road nearby...and we have to remind ourselves that this is a slice of the heaven many thriving in the rat race of the concrete jungles of the u.s. crave. frankly, we crave productive wifi. we crave air conditioning, we crave starbucks, and we crave enough time in our day to be as productive as we know we can be in the states.

but this is haiti. it's a land of time lost. it's a dustbowl of heat. and though it is our slice of paradise, it is far from an easy place to live. living in haiti is tough work. some mornings we wake up, scratch the bites on our ankles, and feel as if we haven't rested. we rub our eyes and notice that we've already worked up quite a bit of a slick on our chests and it's only 7 am. we embrace that small bit of cool that remains in our increasingly warming rooms, and don't want the day to wear on toward 9am when the full sun will reign high in the sky and raise the mercury. we can lay in bed and prepare ourselves for the day, urging our bodies to take that first step and climb into our 15-18 hour uphill battle that is our every monday through monday. and we remind ourselves why we are so tired. it could be the stagnating heat. it could be the rooster's notifying the world that they're awake and so should we be. it could be the dog fight on the corner that surely rendered one less canine in this world. whatever the reason, we slept at least half of the deserving hours our bodies need.

breakfast can be hard to consume. it's too early. we're too hot. it's just too H.O.T. and yet we need to eat. we need to keep up our strength or at least give our weary bodies the illusion that nourishing food will help propel us toward the abyss of need that we face in haiti daily. so we swallow. and we hydrate. and move on with the day. we step out into the sun and look for the pool of shade to hop to.

productivity here means many conversations with many people. and then once an agreement has been made, sometimes those conversations need to take place again. and again. and ultimately, sometimes yet again. or with someone else. and hopefully the result of several attempts to make a point will eventually produce action. teaching a new topic or idea here can be a little bit like watching water boil. except that you can't step away because someone will unplug the stove. and you can't add salt, because that will further dehydrate you. so we continue with the ground hog day effect and remind ourselves that this island is deserving of our time. of our energy. of our love. and that we as americans have to remember that we came to haiti with intent and purpose, and what we are learning in return is patience. patience for time. for learning. for understanding. for failure. for lack of progress. for frustrating days when we can't connect with the outside world because our wifi is possessed and selfish and there will not only be no netflix, but also no facebook, and no email. questions will sit unanswered, not because we don't care, not because we're ignoring the situation, but simply because the mice who spin the wheel in our proverbial internet machine likely also didn't sleep last night while the dog fights and the roosters crowing and the thundering of bullets hammered on, breaking the silence of the night sky. or one of our local internet providers found a slurpy, kicked back at the wheel and accidentally unplugged the power chord. and if that's the case, we'll have to spend the next week or so calling to find out the issue. if our phones work. or pay the bill. again. or switch providers. it all comes down to this - haiti is just not the u.s. it's just not. 

transportation in haiti is worthy of writing a book. sometimes you can facilitate an errand with relative ease. the streets are wide open, no one is threatening to shoot someone or hit them with a rock on the side of the road, you don't get a flat tire, you don't feel the familiar sputtering of your engine indicating that you may have filled your car with tainted gas, and you reach your destination feeling happily surprised by the convenience of modern machinery. there are other days, however, when everything you touch moans, spits, and dies. those days suck. the roads here are a hodge-podge of fabrication. some are stone. some are concrete, some are dust and rocks and pits, and some are actually paved! some have lights, others have stop signs...stop signs are loosely interpreted here. you pass through with your breath held and a prayer sent up. and each road has the ability to trap you. demonstrations arise and escalate very quickly here in haiti. one minute you could be on your way to a depot for a toilet repair kit, and the next you're circumventing trouble and finding a new two hour back way home to your broken toilet with little accomplished. a broken toilet is much better than a cracked skull. it's always worth the caution and the missed chance than to wind up in the midst of an angry crowd.

moving on with the day, lunch should be rum punches and some sort of fresh lobster that can be consumed in a hammock on a crystal clear, aquamarine, white sand beach, right? totally. but it's not. we have sandwiches. and we're usually eating as we type. if we have wifi. and we're under a hot tin roof doing so. the afternoon scorches on, promising few breezes, and we spend it running errands, trying to obtain products that may have expired or spoiled on the boats bringing them here. but who knows, it's a gamble. you can pick up a box of milk or a tub of yogurt with a decent expected lifespan noted on the outside, bring that sucker home, take one bite or sip and toss the whole thing. a following rant ensues because it's hard not to think about the two hours of your day spent to go to the best market possible to get your needs met just to find out that your day and your money is wasted and your taste buds are no happier for it. dinner is the quiet respite, or should be, that anyone who lives and works in haiti deserves. but usually dinner is another source of bombardment. the debrief of the day, the complaints about the heat, the flickering wifi woes...people running out of toilet paper, septic systems overflowing, tired children who are finding their third wind begging for your attention to play before they fall into their nightly coma...oh how we wish we were all the children who can fall into that blissful slumber at 7:30pm, but our work is nowhere close to being done. there are few tasks that are completed here without a multitude of interruptions from a plethora of people.

as the sun slumbers and leaves us with less of that stagnatingly face melting heat, ala a dali likeness, the mosquitos come out to claim their territory and give you notice that you're welcome to join the party but only if you're willing to be the meal. they're like demon vampires with diseases. and they somehow choose the most inspiring places to chow down. like an eyebrow. ankles are a favorite as well. knuckle itching is a special kind of frustrating sensation. or the corner of your eyelid. that's one of my fondest of their choices. these are the moments when you fondly think of screened in porches on a comfortable house in the u.s. a place where you can live outside of walls. a place where you have just about every luxury and comfort and peace and relative quiet if you seek it. a place where your grocery store will exchange your rotten products, where you can grab a latte at a drive through to calm your nerves on a hectic day. where you can crank up the music and the a.c. and complain to someone who will actually do something about it if your phone, your wifi, your a.c., and your plumbing don't work. here in haiti we can only complain to ourselves. because we are the plumbers, the builders, the do'ers. we know it is up to us if it is going to get done. and yet, with our world so dependent upon computers, phones, the internet, and other resources it is difficult to prove that we are as productive here in haiti as we are in the states when we can't communicate and provide tangible evidence of all that happens in a day. and when we can write an inspired or funny post on facebook it simply doesn't sum up the holistic experience of our day. sometimes those quick proof of life posts had to be generated by hot-spotting a signal from someones phone to a computer with a gentle nudge and promise of sharing a treat in return for compliance with posting. or threats of hardware harm.

if one could imagine hiking a mountain daily, i would suggest this is a comparable activity to life in haiti. sometimes we dream of a day when we can run away from our burdens here in haiti to live our lives of ease in the united states. but we love this island and her people, so this is what we do. if you love us, please understand that we are in the trenches, doing what needs to be done, and when you don't hear from us we are still doing just that. supporting them. assisting and providing for their needs and welfare. teaching them. guiding them. and loving them. 

sending this message with love and hopes that the wifi will comply with my desire to post it!

sincerely,

hot in haiti

missionaries and cute kids

it has been said so well many different ways, but today i'm writing it my way so that those who may not have considered their time spent loving on orphans to be as detrimental as it can be.

as a family, we have gone through and are still going through the unbelievably difficult...gruelingly long, and down right tortuous process of adoption from Haiti for over five years now. in that period of time we have learned a thing or two about our kids. about this process. and about how others can impact our children while they wait to come home to their families.

we have trolled and scoured the internet for a mere glimpse of our children's faces as they've grown in our absence. we've become friends with anyone we know who visits our children. and while we are thankful for the time those who travel to haiti devote and give in service to our children and the foundations who provide their needs, we need you to know a few things:

bonding is for families.

bonding is a cycle of growth and development that we take very seriously. it is a process. it is a long and at times frustrating process. when you meet and fall in love with a child who has lived through more difficulties than most can imagine, what you find is that behind that sweet smile and spunky disposition is a child who has felt deeper pain than they can describe. they may have been left, lost, abused, abandoned, given up on, or given away because they came from a place and a group of people who they look like, talk like, and maybe even act like - because they can't be cared for as they deserve and need. they will cling to anyone who is willing to give them what they want and need. when you visit a child and love them for a week and then leave them, it adds too their trauma. it helps build their walls. and it makes our jobs as their family members harder. bonding is for families. please don't try to bond with children you think are adorable and will be happy to love for one week. please consider that loving them for a week and leaving them is perpetuating a secondary trauma. it is not what they need. it is not helpful for their development. it is not helpful for the bonding cycle for the family. in fact it hurts it.

they do have families.

we have seen and heard many comments over the years about our children. "i want to take him home with me!" or "he's precious, i can just put him in my bag." even "why did that child have to go home before i could visit again?" that last one kills me e.v.e.r.y. single time. we are their families. and we also want to take them home. and we know exactly how they will fit into our lives, not our bags. and we will not waste a second when the time comes for them to come home. and we will not consider your schedule and your visits. because one of the most momentous times in all of our lives will be upon us. and we will be together as a family; not divided by an ocean. that is our time. not yours.

memory building is our right.

my son was not allowed to go to the beach with me in haiti. however, he was allowed to be taken to the beach by a group of random strangers. once. and those random strangers who spent an afternoon in our sons life have made an impact. but not one that is fulfilling and lasting. he doesn't even remember their names. the impact it made is that our son was given the opportunity to share his first experience at the beach with complete strangers. and they lavishly bought him every single thing his heart desired that day. and now when our family goes to the beach a simple picnic isn't good enough. because it doesn't compare to the experience he had with a large group of missionaries who treated him like a golden child on a pillar. we're just his family. we're not nearly capable of providing that kind of experience because we make our sandwiches at home. and the soda tasted better in a glass. and he got to sit in the front seat to drive there. whatever he has determined to be the reasons our trips to the beach aren't good enough, the point is that our family deserved to make that memory. not strangers.

we appreciate you. please appreciate us.

we do. we appreciate your heart. what you're willing to give. that you have devoted time to our children and the foundations who provide for them. when you're working, please know that we also devote time to our children - even when we aren't with them. we work diligently for years in the struggle and fight to bring our children home. we pray for them every single day. multiple times a day. we live with the ghost of our child's presence in our homes. there is not a single activity that takes place in our lives that we don't miss the presence of our child, that we don't painfully hold back the tears and try to remember that there will be many opportunities for more experience with our children - but sometimes the missed moments are the hardest. we are missing precious time in our children's lives. so while we appreciate you, we also want you to appreciate us. we want you to know that even when we're not here, we are loving our children with our whole hearts. we are hurting for their homecoming. and we hurt when we see our children in your arms and not ours. if you love our children, please appreciate us as much as we appreciate what you try to do to support our children.

please visit. and work. and love. but do so properly.

your prayers, your energy, your passion, your sweat, and your dedication is so valuable to us. we dearly appreciate that you have chosen to give yourself to us and our children. so please visit. please go to work hard to support the staff who take care of our children. please continue to send your love to our families and for our children. please just know that doing this properly can make a world of difference for our whole family.

thank you,

fiercely loving mom of a couple ridiculously cute kids.

sweet v turned 3...

3.16. she turned 3.

3.19. i cuddled her and thought of the moment i first laid eyes on her.

23 trips to haiti.

3 long years.

she is growing with our long distance love.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SfWBnLHfOx0&feature=youtu.be

a reminder of my last night living in haiti...

Thoughts from the evening of Feb. 12, 2014:

At this very moment one year ago I was hugging and kissing our entire Haitian family after they came to visit the boys and celebrate our grand exodus from Haiti.

Our families and friends anxiously awaited our homecoming after four years of adopting from Haiti and seven months of living in country. Thank you to all of you who cheered us on, prayed for us, screamed with us, cried with us, laughed with us, and celebrated with us!

Samantha Bertier, Natalie Claire Holly, Holly Harmon, Joanne Kimball, Diony Monestime, Patrick Bentrott, Ashley Gibson, Mallery Neptune,and Jean Hilaire Filder thank you all for being a magnificent part of the final stages of our journey.

There are so many names I would like to include on this list. Those who weren't there with us in person were with us in spirit. Kelly Lefeber Blanchard, you walked every day of four months of hell with me like a sister and I'm so proud to call you family. There are countless mothers and fathers who have, did, and are walking the land mine that is the path of adoption with us and I want you all to know that you own a special piece of my heart.

I'll never forget our last night among many spent in Haiti. Surrounded by family with eyes full of happy tears. Surrounded by friends who knew how badly I wanted to go home but how hurt I was to close part of this chapter of my life.

Harry Hames thank you for your love and compassion, your loving fatherly spirit and your shared respect and admiration for the people of Haiti. I miss you so much. I'm not sure if I can aptly share with you how special our visits were to me. You are a gem.

Natalie I want to kick trees on swings with you again. Joanne, you saved me by delivering our visas. Diony, you are the most important puzzle piece that without our boys wouldn't be home. Ashley your love for Haiti, her children, and my sweet V helped me get on that plane. Holly, your love and support carried us through so much even long after we came home. Patrick, thank you for coming to our rescue with documents and your amazing sense of humor when I wanted to go postal at Ibesr. I still owe you a prestige for that one. Thank you for being the absolute right person to be there for our final moments and for being our "stand-in" for the happy family photo! Thank you for all you've done for V. I'm happy to call you family as well! Filder my amazing friend, I can't tell you what your friendship means to me. You are an amazing person. Your heart is so gentle and you care for people so well. I admire you and am so happy to call you my friend. Thank you always for our many adventures, even in your pony - which clearly hates me!! Samantha you and your family were a beautiful warm hug for Kelly and I and I cherish you and them. And Mallery, our adventure has only just begun but I thank every star above for you every day. The mold was truly broken with your creation. You are my resuscitation, you are my sanity. You are an amazingly beautiful person, and I'm so honored to have you as a friend. Thank you for everything you do every day, your sacrifices, your love, your dedication and devotion, and your loving and kind heart. The gift of loving V that you give me daily is a debt I will never fully be able to repay.

I miss Haiti so much. I miss momma Epheta, Darline, Darla, the worlds cutest grandpa and grandma, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We never realized how many people we would bring into our lives and our hearts with the special gifts that are our three children.

Stepping down the escalator to the faces of Melissa Bolt Dunkleberger,Teresa Huber, Karyn Puller, and Kate Romero as well as J, Britt, and Leo was exactly the rescue my heart needed to know that no matter where we go people who love us are there. Thank all of you beautiful women for the special people you are.

I hope you all know that we love you and you are in our hearts every single day.

a small dose of healing

the grasshopper, normally extraordinarily agile, took a good tumble today after getting hit in the head with a ball.

he's ok. but it has made me do a lot of reflection on the times he took swipes, dings, bangs, slams, spills, and outright splats on rocks and cement in haiti. there were so many days i couldn't nurse the wounds. so many tears i couldn't wipe away. so many snuggles that didn't happen. so many boo boo's not kissed. like when he split his face open on the shower wall at the orphanage. that one is an ever-present reminder when i look at the scar on the bridge of his nose.

today as he got off the bus with the ice pack on his face and his glasses tucked into his bag for safekeeping because they were sliding off of his swollen face, he stepped into mine and britt's outreaching arms. his bus driver gave her dose of hope that he would heal and rest comfortably over the weekend. leo was behind him holding his bag and his nurse's note. he was enveloped in the love of the family we are. he has us and we have him. and i'm so thankful that we can provide the love and comfort for him that so many children need.

please let your heart love a child from afar today. tonight. right now. please send a little love to a lonely little heart who has a skinned knee. a busted lip. a scraped eye...they need it. they may not feel your touch. but they will feel your heart somehow. there are so many children who need the rescue of a family. they need love.

please also send your love to the families who wait for their children to come home. they long to have their children in their arms. they want to kiss their boo boo's. they are fighting so hard to bring them home. they need your love too because they fear what they don't know is happening to their children. their hearts ache over the time lost to this process. they hurt knowing that they can't nurse their sick children. they can't pick them up when they've fallen. they can't clean up the scraped knee. they can't soothe their pain. they need your love.

this. today. soothing his pain. being there for him. wrapping our arms around him. letting him know it'll all be ok. these are the moments that make everything we did and do worth all of it. all of it. he's here. he has a belly full of pizza, his glasses have been bent back into shape. his fabulous lips are just a little fuller right now. he's surfing the couch like a champ. and he will be ok. and because he will be ok, so will i.

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 10^th 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.

a book for v

i took advantage of a free 20x20 book coupon from shutterfly.com and made v a sweet little book. i'm looking forward to taking it to her on my next trip to haiti.

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0AasWTJo1atGLmo&cid=SFLYOCWIDGET

the balance of life in haiti

please please please please please read this blog. my awe-inspiringly amazing friend mallery somehow finds the sliver of time to carve out of her day to post about what happens in haiti and at hope house where v lives and thrives. for every horror story i can tell you about haiti, i can share a miracle. for every up there is a down. i've never experienced the balance of life the way i have in haiti. her words could have dripped from my own mouth. please read this and know that there are people with beautiful hearts who are doing relentlessly exhausting but completely necessary work day in and day out to offer haiti's people a chance to improve their lives.  the haiti foundation against poverty is an honorable and sustainable and fully trustworthy source for you to help haiti if you're so inclined. they are good people who always do the right thing. always. we are so thankful for them. so many are thankful for them. they help in ways that most of us can't comprehend. daily. fully. please let this serve as an example that haiti deserves their love and our love and everything we do for haiti is worth it.

the top post is from a day i was there. it was v's 2nd birthday among everything else that took place. no child deserves the injustice of losing his/her family, home, and culture. adoption is not a cure, but rather a band-aid. it wouldn't be my first choice for any of my children to have experienced the losses they have so that i could proudly raise and love them. and in my work to repair my children, i'm very happy to know that people like frentz and mallery neptune are doing everything in their power to give hope and love and make sure that all of the children at hope house are part of a family. hope house is a home. we are very proud to call the neptune's our friends, and i would love for you all to get to know them through the work they do.

i will gladly take any donations you'd like to send my way, including dark chocolate pretzels. ;-)

http://www.haitifoundationagainstpoverty.blogspot.com

getting HOPE back

Calm. Secure. Trusting. Comforted. Eased. Happy.  These are all words that come to mind now. These are the very last words I would have used to describe my feelings over the past year.

Lying with my forehead on the floor of my living room with hot tears dripping from my eyes straight to the floor, gasping for breath and trying to search my thoughts for how I would explain my behavior was the last thing in the world that I thought would be a scene from the first day our boys spent at home. There was no keeping the emotions at bay upon hearing that V, scared and confused, was heading back to Maison from Hope House after a night of comfort and freedom and love.

As the boys and I were leaving Haiti on Feb. 13, 2013 V was headed to Hope House. She had her doll. And the welcoming arms of dear friends awaited her. She sat down at a little table in her own little chair and ate her lunch. She held onto her doll and looked at photos of our family.  I was finally taking the boys home after 4 years in process and 7 months of living in country. And V was safe. She was loved. She was happy. It was one of the best days of my life.

Among the happiness of her transfer and the delirious joy of bringing the boys home, I didn’t think that there was any room in my heart for fear or despair. Until it became obvious that there were issues with her family and her relinquishment. Her aunt refused to come and formally relinquish her. And we were told that she would need to return to Maison. My head spun hearing this. The breath sucked out of me like a backdraft. And the plume of fury and sadness and rage and disbelief sat like a festering bubble until I couldn’t keep it inside anymore and when it surfaced, I found myself crying the ugliest of ugly cries; once again terrified that I was losing my daughter. One year to the day that we lost her referral, we were potentially losing her completely.  She was sent back to the place we had finally rescued her from. She was free. She was free! And now she would be back in a cage. My heart shattered knowing that she was simply slipping through our fingers. And despite everything that the amazing advocates of Hope House wanted to try to do, they will always stand on the right side of the law – and it would have been illegal for them to keep her without a legal relinquishment. Their hearts broke with mine when she was returned. I felt sisterly love as I was told in person on the phone how devastated they were to see her leave. I can’t think of a more touching way for someone to give me the horrific news that my daughter was returning to the conditions we had just delivered her from.

A decision was made to call “a bluff”, and demand that her family either comply with the process of her adoption or come and pick her up and raise her. After all she was relinquished with the intent of adoption. And at just under two years in process for her adoption, though I couldn’t stomach the thought of losing her; I could less handle the idea of her sitting in an institution for the rest of her life when she could be living with loving family. Upon hearing that she would need to be picked up and taken home or relinquished to Hope House, her aunt abruptly changed her tune and picked V up and relinquished her to Hope House the following day. February 15, 2013 will be another day in a series of celebratory happy days in our lives. February 13 is our homecoming anniversary for the boys. February 14 is my favorite holiday, Valentine’s Day.  It is also our anniversary. One day it will be a true V day. February 15 is now the day miracles happen. And February 16 is my birthday. I honestly know that a miracle – no – several miracles took place. Without miracles, I would still be in Haiti with my boys. And without miracles, V would be in a cage.

Instead, she is laughing, and playing, and growing, and loving and being loved. She is happy. She is healthy. She is safe. She is loved.  And instead of crying and finding myself on the floor in tears, I found myself leaping for joy, crying happy tears that we experienced this phenomenal change of heart and beautiful opportunity to commence with the process to bring our sweet v home.

I am calm. I am secure. I am trusting. I am comforted. I am eased. And I am happy.

Thank you to everyone at Hope House. This is how it should be

Coming to AMERICA!

Djedly & Parker are finally coming home!

17 trips to Haiti, 7 months of living in country with the boys, and 4 years to the day that we started the process, the boys will wake up at home on Valentine's Day 2014.

We're coming to America TODAY!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFl7AL6Hzo8&feature=youtu.be

17 times

16 times our hearts ripped wide open.

With I love you’s and I’ll see you soon’s all spoken.

But never again will we be so broken.

For 16 was enough.

And now all we have is love.

16 times I left you both so broken.

Promises I’d return to you were spoken.

You didn’t close yourselves off.

You’re open.

Receiving all my love.

16 times our fears were strengthened.

Every time I left the ground was shaken.

The winds that carried me home were whipping.

Scars on my heart kept the deep hurt aching.

I wanted you in my arms.

But 16 times our hopes were dampened.

16 times our bonds were not broken.

16 times left us waiting for one day.

But we did not know when.

How many days we longed for it?

How many nights did we hope for it?

How many tears did we shed for it?

For the day we would be done.

But 17 times we have laughed together.

17 times we have grown by measure.

And 17 times we’ve prepared for forever.

For all the good and the bad.

All of the sorrows, sadness and heartbreak,

How much more will our tattered souls ache?

My tortured mind just simply now cannot take,

Another bomb or loss.

But after waiting so long,

Our bonds they remain so strong.

And all of this waiting is now done.

For our day has finally come.

Now come, let’s enter our life.

You can step from pain and from strife.

You can keep your past safe in your pocket.

You can keep it with you in a locket.

You can leave it behind if you wish.

Your life is your very own gift.

You can have now all that you need.

Lets take this step and you’ll see.

There is so much that you will now be.

The choice is your own.

Let’s leave and we’ll blow it a kiss.

There is so much that you will miss.

But I love you,

I promise you this.

And together we will be.

Bravely now come take my hand.

I’ll take you to a new land.

We have journeys ahead to wander.

There are times that we will ponder.

But together we will conquer,

All that life has for us.

16 times we’ve hoped we’d make it.

16 times we’ve had to take it.

And 16 times we’ve wiped our tears.

But thank you 17, you wipe all our fears.

Down to the day it has been four years.

But we are now done.

For you are mine and I am yours.

Today we will see a brand new shore.

And our faith will now fully restore.

For our day has finally come.

And your new life we have won.

Seeking Approval - AGAIN

Never in my life have I been so desperate to seek approval.

We have been sitting pretty in IBESR for exactly ten months as of today. By comparison, the boys had entered, gained approval, sat for presidential dispensation, received dispensation, received the director’s signature, and exited IBESR in eight months. So to say that I’m antsy and ready for some news on V would be a colossal understatement.

I’m itching for movement on her and have been for over a year. We started the process to adopt her in July of 2012 and yet here we are so very far long after that trying to find the patience to continue to wage through this process to be granted the opportunity to adopt her.

While I’m basking in the blissful success of finding out yesterday that our boys have received USCIS approval for their visas, I’m feeling the added stress of knowing that I’ll be leaving Haiti soon – and possibly with no more information on V’s adoption than when I arrived here in July of 2013. Yes, that’s right – a full year after starting the process to adopt her. At least until November 2013 I was allowed to see her, but that ceased when the new adoption law here in Haiti was printed in the legal magazine/paper, Le Moniteur just prior to Thanksgiving. I haven’t seen her since that day. While the passing of this new law should have been a good thing, it has marked a time frame that reflects a gaping wide loop-hole in the implementation of expected positive change that families like ours are drowning in.

My recent facebook post is a small indication that after four years of adopting from Haiti, I’m really losing my cool:

“i get lots of messages about v. and i have not had much that i can share. the past 8 weeks have been horrible. i miss her dearly. for that matter all of 2013 completely sucked and i've cried more this year than any year of my life. and being 18 months out from starting her adoption and being nowhere closer to bringing her home hurts very deeply.

i've come to find out that members of for his glory (fhg), the group that sponsors our orphanage, maison des enfants de dieu, recently traveled to our orphanage. accompanying an adoptive mom who is the president of the board of fhg, was another adoptive mom. though i fully support visits to our orphanage as i feel that all parents should be able to see their children as often as possible; it hurts to know that a family who is in ibesr (like we are), who is under the new law (like we are), who is not currently referred their child (like we are), was allowed at the orphanage to see their child (we are not). we were told 8 weeks ago by the director, pierre alexis, that under the new adoption law passed here in haiti, that it is ILLEGAL for me to be at the orphanage. it is ILLEGAL for me to see my daughter. until the office of ibesr re-matches our files, we are not allowed to see v.

so why is this family allowed to see their daughter? because of friendship and privilege. friendship that i no longer have with those who sponsor the orphanage because i spoke the truth about what has happened to us. and privilege that i don't have because i'm not a radio personality. i'm not a deep pocket donor. i'm just a MOM.

so my update on v is that i have no idea when i will see her again. and apparently there is no real reason why. we can't get any word on her process. all i know is that she is still sleeping in the baby room, which means that she is still kept in a cage-like crib with a side that is tied closed when she is not being supervised. she is not learning how to play or talk with children her age as she should be. and she is NO CLOSER TO COMING HOME.

i am two miles away from where she is tonight, and the only thing i can do with the information that i've come to find out that is killing me from the inside out is to share the truth. i have contacted my agency. i have requested that they reply with a date for when i can see my daughter. this is unacceptable.

i can not and will not hide what is happening to our family. we have been continually lied to, ignored, used, and mistreated in this process. my boys have been in this country far longer than they should be. i never should have had to move to haiti to process my own adoptions. and my daughter should be coming home not sitting tied into a cage. i want my daughter.

pierre alexis should be ashamed of himself. screen shot this. re-read it. shake your head. say what you will if you want to talk about me behind my back. i will blog about it too. call the for his glory lawyer. i'll refer him to our lawyer. they already know each other.  tell who ever you would like. this is not right. anyone who thinks that it is should be ashamed of themselves. anyone who thinks that my speaking out is damaging, is living in the same fear that kept me quiet for so long. no more. i will no longer allow fear to guide my actions. my daughter deserves better than this.

i shouldn't have to blow kisses at a gate while others are allowed passage through to see and love their children.

veronika, i love you more than words can say, and i will fight for you with every nano-ounce of my being. i won't give up on us.”

The last real update we received on V was that her file was re-submitted to IBER on November 29^th. Apparently her file, when submitted on October 21^st, was rejected, thus, the need for a re-format.  Additionally, though we have been told by several people who are aware of the new process IBESR is following under the new law that we should be receiving a file number for our daughter’s submitted file, we have been repeatedly told by our orphanage director, Pierre, that he did not receive a file number. After ten months of our parent file sitting in IBESR awaiting approval, we also have no word from our orphanage or either of the lawyers appointed to our case by our agency or our orphanage. It has been a long ten months.

To put our case into perspective, children who were processed efficiently by our orphanage, as our daughter should have been, now have passports and are very close to coming home to their families and we are still awaiting approval for the permission and the re-match of her file to ours so that we can begin the process to adopt her. And another week has rolled into another month has rolled into another calendar year since we fell in love with her and we still know nothing. And she continues to sit in her cage.

I came across an example online of a family who posted that they were matched with their child in September 2012, exited IBESR in June 2013 and brought their child home – HOME January 21, 2014. This is how it should have been for all of the children caught in the gaping loop-hole. They shouldn’t be sitting in cages waiting for someone to make a decision. They shouldn’t have to spend their lives while someone uses them as a paycheck.

I am asked periodically what I think of the two agencies and the orphanage that we work with, and I am always very honest.

“i will give props to CCAI if anyone is looking to use them. our adoption counselor with ccai is my sanity. we use two agencies and are adopting three children from the same orphanage. we started the process four years ago with children of all nations. our boys are with can. i have been living in haiti for the past six months and have had no help finishing the process to adopt my two boys who i've had in my custody since i got here. i have had to correct documents and have learned that i had falsified documents. my boys are the longest current outstanding referral at our orphanage. and due to a lack of proper facilitation, my daughter's adoption (through ccai) has been stalled for the past 18 months. as of right now, i'm not even allowed to see my daughter because i'm a pre-matched family being processed under the new law. i feel that there is a huge problem with transparency, honesty, and a total lack of professionalism at our orphanage. the kids need better resources, and the parents are not utilized as resources, but merely as mules to bring donations. the standard time frame at our orphanage is also absurdly long. and i am one of many very unhappy parents. there are several happy parents, some of whom are in this forum who are on the board of a group that supports our orphanage. so they have a happier story than i do. but they never would have been given falsified docs.”

Apparently my being vocal has struck some nerves and I’ve been warned several times that I may not be safe living in Haiti. I will not be silenced. My daughter sits in a cage. If I could place a cone of shame on the necks of the lawyers and the orphanage director, I would. Enough is enough.

While half of me is parading and dancing in the delight that my boys can FINALLY COME HOME, the other half of me is still in a festering pit of despair that I have no more information on how or even if I will be able to take my daughter home.  But the gloves are off and bombs are away, and I’m going to do everything I can with sails full of hurricane force winds and tides raging and pushing my little ship toward the adoption success shore. I will fight this good fight. She deserves us and we deserve her and I will not stop until she is running around my kitchen with footed pajamas and afro puffs; with that beautiful smile and those huge eyes looking at me contented – and HOME.

The boys and I will leave Haiti on February 13, 2014. It will be seven months and one day since I arrived in Haiti to bring them home. It will be the 17^th flight home to Pittsburgh since starting this process. And it will be the final one without them. We have been in this process for four years.  Officially as of Valentine’s Day 2014 when we will mark the day we submitted our home study to USCIS for permission to adopt from Haiti a mere month after the earthquake of 2010 and they will be home with us. But we will be far from done.

The fat lady will sing while V rings her little bell all the way home – one day.