Good Bye…

You would think that the night before I finally get to bring our girls home, that the title would be Hello.  Instead, tonight my heart is filled with good byes.  Yes, I’m filled with scattered emotions and numbness. I know I lose standing in the world of the macho male , but I’ve been on the edge of tears all weekend, especially today.  It started on Saturday, when we drove away from the crèche and knew they would never sleep there again.  I knew they were finally coming home after so many brutal drives away from the crèche knowing I couldn’t bring my daughters home.  I knew it was really going to happen, they were finally coming home.  Everything was finished.  We have their passports, their permission to travel, their visas, everything, there was NOTHING left except to get them on the plane and bring them home.

In fact, I battled with the reality that I just wanted to get out of Haiti and get them on that plane.  I contemplated checking with the airlines to see if there was a chance to get on a flight Sunday or Monday.  I knew we had to say goodbyes and allow the girls to transition out of their life at the crèche.  I knew Mommy needed to spend more time bonding with the girls before we left the country.  However, after all the problems, delays, and heartbreaking nonsense associated with our adoption, I just wanted to get them home fearing that something might happen before we could get them on that plane.  I know I need to be still and know that it is in His hands, but this Popi just wants to bring his girls home.

We hosted a going away party at the crèche this afternoon.  In the morning, Mom and the girls baked and frosted cupcakes, complete with sprinkles.  We filled a piñata full of candy.  We prepared the goodie bags for all of the children at the crèche.  Once we walked into the crèche and started preparing for the party it hit me; this was good bye.  Good bye, this is it.  In the beginning, it took us a couple months to get her admitted, but Jaline entered the crèche in December of 2012, as the first child.  After caring for my daughter for the past 28 months, it was time to say good bye.  It was time for Jaline to say good bye to her 1^st friend at the crèche.  Her first friend, Renalson, is an amazing boy that I have spent a great deal of time with over the past two years.  We had to say good bye today, and it was one of the hardest parts of leaving today.  He is very close to finishing his paperwork and finally coming home, but he had to watch as our girls left and he had to stay.  I know he has a family in the US that loves him and longs for him to finally come home.  I hugged him over and over again, talked to my buddy, and let him know that he will be coming home soon.  Yet, I wanted to pack him up and fly him home to the US, so the ridiculous wait could finally be over. 

He has a special place in my heart as do the others I refer to as the “Original 6”.  If you’re from Detroit, or one of the cities where the Original 6 NHL teams are from, you understand that reference.  The Original 6: Jaline, Renalson, Jameson, Lixson, Woodley, and Islande are the 1^st six children that started at Chances for Children’s crèche.  Marie Line came a bit later, since she wasn’t admitted to the crèche until September of 2011.  I’ve spent so much time with those children over the past two years.  While I always came to see my girls, I always believed it was important to love on each of them as much as I could.  I’ve known them since before some of their adoptive families.  I always loved them as I would want others to love on my girls, so they knew how special they were, so they knew they were loved, and they knew they weren’t forgotten, even when their parents had to go home without them.  Islande spent an hour sleeping on my shoulder today, craving love and just needing to be held.  I know her adoptive parents love her dearly and long for her to come home, but for today she got to sleep on my shoulder.  I’ve known her since she arrived with that big smile, especially when she’s supposed to be napping.  I could go on about each of them and it was so thrilling to see Jameson and Lixson lead the way home to their new families, as they arrived in the US on Saturday. 

With so many memories and bonds, it was hard to leave today, even knowing our girls were finally coming home.  Not for a minute do I want them to stay any longer, but it’s so difficult when people and a place have been such a huge part of your life for over two years.  When you reflect upon the numerous trips to the crèche and all the memories, it can be overwhelming.  I had to say goodbye as well as the girls.  Goodbye to all the mommies who have cared for and loved on my girls.  They’ve held them, bathed them, cared for them when they’ve been sick, prayed with them, fed them, sang with them, dressed them, made sure they did their homework, and many of them have loved them as their own, until today.  The day when good bye finally comes and their adoptive family can bring them home.  I owe so many of those ladies such a debt of gratitude for the way they’ve cared and the love they’ve shared with my girls.  It was so touching to see the tears of Madame Patric, who has been with Jaline since the beginning.  She’s so excited for the girls yet so sad to see Jaline go, because she was with her from the beginning.  From the time when my precious 3 ½ year old was so severely malnourished and had to have her hair shaved off so it could grow back healthy, she was there.   She and the others cared for my sick child when I was unable to and watched her transform into the healthy, smiling, giggling six year old that she is today.  As she said to us through a translator, "I have cared for her as if she was my own child."  It was fitting that one of Madame’s last acts of caring for Jaline today, was to braid her beautiful hair so she could be more stunning when she is welcomed home tomorrow, by a new team of family and friends that will love on her, help raise her, and care for her as so many have over the past two and a half years.

We have been blessed by the efforts of the team from Chances for Children, who have made our adoptions possible.  It was a Friday in October of 2010 at 5 pm, when Kathi Juntunen, answered my phone call, after I was told no and to basically give up on adopting our Jaline from Haiti.  I had been turned down by countless adoptions agencies all over the US, who said it was too difficult and I should consider another country.  Well, the Lord placed a precious child named Jaline on my heart in August of 2010, and there was no way we were going anywhere else.  I will forever be grateful that Kathi answered that call and said she would work with us.  She has spent countless hours building a special place for children who will be adopted, developing a network of amazing people who pour their hearts to the effort of uniting adoptive families and their children, and working with our family in the unique issues we have had with our adoption process.  She has been a lifesaver in the brutally complex world of international and specifically Haitian adoption. 

I have been so blessed by so many people from Chances for Children, who have worked to facilitate our adoption.  I have thanked many privately, but without their efforts we wouldn’t be coming home tomorrow.  Nathan, Pastor Maxime, Noah, Kelitta, Nicole, Vivian and everyone who’s helped us from C4C, your work is such a blessing to us adoptive parents and our children.  Some of you have had larger roles in my girls’ lives and adoptions, and you know how much you and your efforts mean to me and our family.  What you do is special, life changing, and will impact generations.  I know the trips up and down the mountain, the traffic, the endless paperwork, and the appointments can be monotonous and frustrating but know I will always be grateful.

 

With every good bye, each person who has invested in caring for our girls all said the same thing, "I am happy but I am sad too."  While it may be good bye today, it is Hello to an amazing future.  Some of my closest friends tell me that they believe this isn’t the end but the beginning.  I’m way too tired and emotionally exhausted right now to process that statement.  One marathon of a journey is about to end and a new one is about to begin.  I am overwhelmed with that reality, but for now I focus on that moment, when Samantha and I are sitting next to Jaline and Marie Line Fleurce Henderson and the plane lifts off the runway in Port au Prince.  April 2, 2013, the date when Jaline and Marie Line finally come HOME! 

 

Lean not on my own understanding?  

Thoughts from Todd

I wrote this a couple weeks ago, but it’s taken a bit to get it posted.  I tend to be the type of person who likes to do projects, but I really love the satisfaction of getting things done.  I don’t like to wait.  I like to tear into something and complete a task.  I know patience isn’t something I am blessed with.  I know it is an area of weakness.  On the other hand, I have an uncle who is a very skilled woodworker.  He is meticulous in his work.  His efforts are painstaking.   He refines his projects over and over.  He sands and puts the finishing touches on his projects until they are as close to perfect as he can get them.  I wish I had that patience and I’m awed by his handiwork and his meticulous attention to detail.

About a week ago, I stopped in my tracks and reflected upon the reality that Jesus was a carpenter.  How fitting that our Lord was a carpenter in the days He walked on this earth.  I often lose sight of that aspect of His life.  In fact, I rarely if ever have paused and reflected upon that reality.  I see God as my all powerful savior who has the ability to move mountains.  My God moves mountains.  What a dilemma.  What do I do with that?  I’ve wrestled with that reality over the past 30 months.  When you jump in with both feet trusting a God who moves mountains, it stops making sense when the mountains rarely seem to move. In fact, you look up to see another mountain in your path and cry out to God “If you can move mountains, where are You?” 

When all you can see is a never ending climb up a mountain, you rarely, if ever, stop to reflect that our Lord is a carpenter.  He is a craftsman who has a vision and a plan that our impatient hearts and minds fail to grasp.   I rushed to bring my precious Jaline home.  I figured we could fast forward the process of bringing His precious child home, regardless of corruption and inefficiencies in the world of Haiti.  I knew my God could handle everything; however, I failed to realize that His plan was bigger. I didn’t know that my precious Jaline had an amazing sister in the very same orphanage I was rushing to get her out of.   I couldn’t grasp the fact that the plan was for us to adopt two.  I couldn’t get my head around two.  I wanted to trust, but only as far as my mind could see and comprehend.  I thought: We don’t have enough money.  How will we provide?   Where will everyone fit?  Yet, His plan was bigger, he saw further ahead.  He had a vision that I lacked.  He saw beyond the mountains that stared me in the face.

After we jumped out in faith again, I prayed “all right Lord, we’re all in, You can bring them home now.”  Yet, days, weeks, and months passed, and He whispered “Not yet, they’re not ready.”  I didn’t hear that, all I heard was silence and my frustration grew.  I argued, we’re ready, they’re ready, let’s go Lord.  I cried out, Lord, I said Let’s GO!  What are you waiting for?  You said trust, I did, Let’s go.

Back and forth we went.  “Not yet, there’s still work to be done.”  No, we’re missing days, weeks, months, years of their lives.  Those are experiences we will never share together.  We’ll never get them back.  This isn’t fair.  They’re ready.  “Not yet, there’s still work to be done.”  If you can move mountains, why can’t you move paperwork?  Why can’t you speed things up?  Why do ridiculous earthly things continue to get in the way?  Why can’t You fix it?

I must admit, I’ve been angry with God. Fiercely angry.  Bitter.  Confused.  Disillusioned.  Why? Why? Why? My impatience and confusion with the endless months has been an incredible challenge.   My Father’s heart and longing for my daughters has tested me in so many ways.   

Well, after two and a half years, it looks like they’re almost home and I am forced to pause and reflect deeply on the reality that my Heavenly Father is a Carpenter.  A perfectionist.  A wise parent that sees ahead and protects their children, even when the children turn rebellious and believe they know more.  As our kids grow older, I absolutely believe it was easier when they were younger.  It’s easy making sure they don’t run in to the street and chase after that ball.  Anybody can do that.  It’s easy to pick them up when they scrape their knee and make it all better.  I remember a time, last Spring, when Marie Line was stung by a bee.  The tears poured out and I picked her up, held her tight, put ice on it, and told her it would be ok.  I knew it she would be fine, even when she was sobbing, scared, and confused.  I knew she would be fine, even when she didn’t understand.  Daddy loves being the hero and taking care of his precious children. 

Yet, when they grow up, it’s so much harder.  You can’t always be there, you hope and pray that you’ve taught them well, you try to make sure they know how deeply you love them, you pray that they will understand when you say no and try to help them make the right choices.  You pray, worry, and hope that they will trust you when you’ve experienced pain, made poor choices or mistakes and try to help them not to make their own mistakes.  Even when they believe they know better.  Even when they believe you don’t know what you’re talking about.  Even when they believe they think there’s a better way.  You want them so badly to trust, yet their human impatience and lack of understanding causes them to think you’re wrong or don’t know what you’re doing. 

Yet, you yourself are too short sighted to realize that you do that in your own walk with God.  You think you know what the timing should be.  You think He doesn’t care and has forgotten you.  You wonder if you were wrong all along to trust in your hero.  You wonder if He’s let you down.  You try to find your own answers even though you know deep down what the truth is, but you just can’t seem to understand it or find it. You so quickly forget all the amazing ways he proved himself to you in the past.  You forget the days when Dad came home and you thought he was Superman.  You forget all the amazing ways he invested in your life and taught you, guided you, and shaped you into the person you are today. 

You act like the Israelites who constantly rebelled from God, had to be reminded over and over again of His faithfulness, despite all of the amazing ways He proved his Love to them.  You forget how he held your hand at the start of this journey, like a protective parent.   He took you by the hand, and walked you into to that orphanage and placed his precious Jaline before you and said this is the one.  He opened the doors, He watched out for you, He placed a burden upon the hearts of friends and acquaintances to give when you couldn’t afford to adopt.  He opened the doors for your wife to visit Haiti, bond with Jaline’s sister, and make sure you understood that there’s no way you could ever leave precious Marie Line behind.  He led you to the perfect house for your expanded family.  He opened door after door as a Father does for a child. 

He watched over you every step of the way, but gradually he stepped back.  He still watched with the same love, concern, and caring, but as he watched you grow, he stepped back, knowing there were some things you would have to learn on your own, so that you would be prepared for the future.  He shuddered as you turned away.  He hurt as you questioned him. He wept as you failed to trust.  Yet, he loves you all the same, with the unconditional love of a Father who takes joy in His children and melts when they come back and realize that they need to be patient and trusting as they grow.  He knows they will be stronger from the trials, despite the pain of watching them battle through them.  I know my Heavenly Father is a perfectionist.  I know He is way more patient than I.  I know that He is creating masterpieces in Jaline and Marie Line.  I know his plans for our precious girls are amazing.  I know it’s been a brutal heartwrenching process.  I know now that he’s been shaping and refining the girls and our family for when they finally come.  I know that there will be trials ahead, but I know that it is in His hands.  I know I need to trust more, even when it doesn’t make any sense. 

Proverbs 3:4 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…

Dear friends,

Last week we spent a relaxing week with my parents on our Winter Break.  In a conversation we were having about the adoption my dad said dejectedly, "You know we've been waiting a long time.  We were hoping they'd be here by now."  Perhaps you can relate to my dad's dejection.  Or maybe you have thought, "Haven't heard from the Hendersons in awhile.  I bet they have the girls now and I missed the email."  Well you didn't miss a thing.  Trust me, when they come home you'll get an announcement and if you're a facebook fan, it will be all over our pages!

Truth is, I feel like I am a marathon runner.  Though I have no intention of subjecting my body or mind (utter boredom) to that kind of misery, I can imagine along mile 10 or 12 the runner might be thinking, "Will this ever end?  Will I ever see the finish line?"  Seems like we were in mile 10 or 12 of this adoption marathon for a long time, wondering if we would ever turn that corner and see the finish line.

Well we’re getting very close!

Earlier this week we indeed turned that corner, perhaps mile 25 for the runner, and for the first time we can see the finish line.  

Todd will interject here with some recent developments and an update on what still has to happen: 

In late December, the girls’ birth parents were interviewed by officers of the US government.  This is to insure that they are on board with the adoption and we have not unduly influenced them.  We cleared that hurdle after many challenges of paperwork and the logistics of getting everyone in the right place at the right time.  After that, we waited for the girls’ files to be approved by the Haitian Ministry of Interior and then for them to be granted Haitian passports.

This means that there are two precious girls in Haiti named Jaline Fleurce Henderson and Marie Line Fleurce Henderson, who are officially recognized by the government of Haiti as the daughters of Todd and Samantha Henderson. They have passports to leave Haiti, but now we need the US government to get out of the way and give their approval for them to enter the country permanently. 

On Monday, The girl's dossier and final paperwork was submitted to US Citizenship & Immigration Services (USCIS), for Immigrant Visas.  Of course, we found out that Jaline’s original Birth Certificate disappeared from our file, so our representative in Haiti went to get a new one last Friday, but there was a roadblock and uprising that prevented him from getting to the government offices in the town nearest the girl’s birthplace, so he had to go again on Tuesday and get a new “original” birth certificate for Jaline (You didn’t think it was going to be easy, did you?)

Now we wait… The US government will review all their paperwork, the girls will have to be taken to US approved doctors in Port au Prince for Medical tests, and then they will go through all their approval process, cross-checking everything.  They still have the prerogative to bring the birth parents back in for a final interview.  So, we shy away from any hard time lines, but it will most likely be a month or two until we get final approval.  Once we get final approval, we will head to Haiti for a meeting at the US embassy and bring home our beautiful girls, who are about to have birthdays within the month and turn 6 and 8.  Sweet little Jaline even shares her birthday with her Grandma Henderson!

Yep, it’s been 29 months since we started this process… No, we couldn’t have ever fathomed it would take anywhere close to this long.  We thought it was painful to wait when Shelby was 10 days overdue… Well, we’re nearly 18 years past that day now and eagerly await the arrival of our girls with the anticipation of 1^st time parents.  We’re all a lot older, but we ready ourselves for the joys and challenges of being 1^st time adoptive parents.

So even as Todd detailed the happenings here and there, it seems as if we experienced too many "just around the corner" moments only to realize that the finish line was just a mirage and the end actually wasn't in sight.  So accepting this final step and the reality of their Homecoming seems a bit surreal to me.  I'm about to be the mother of FIVE!!  Giggles will soon fill our home, doll clothes will be picked up off the floor and Candyland will soon be unpacked.  Oh the glories of a young family!!

As we turn the corner and wait for that adrenaline surge from God to give us the stamina to cross the finish line, we ask that you wait in eager anticipation with us.  As always, we covet your prayers: for the process, our family here and the girls in Haiti.

Fondly,

Samantha & Todd

It's Wednesday at 4:45 am.  I sit here in the Detroit airport, waiting to head off to Haiti for yet another trip. I decided Saturday afternoon that is was imperative that I take a trip this week. I will be in Haiti from today until next Tuesday night. Why?  Because our adoption has stalled yet again. Once again, our lawyer is failing to handle his responsibilities and move this process forward. It has been two years since we started this process and there is still no end in sight. We have seen staggered progress and then the inevitable delays. We are with our 2nd lawyer, because our first lawyer, who had been a great lawyer previously, stopped responding and working on moving our case forward. Our current lawyer owns the firm our first lawyer used to work for. We were about to switch attorneys this summer, yet our 2nd lawyer insisted that he wanted to finish the case and wouldn't give up our dossier. He made a little more progress but has stopped answering calls, stopped showing up for meetings, and hasn't submitted paperwork and schedule an appointment for me in Haitian court, that was supposed to be done a month ago. 

So, here I sit waiting for another flight. I am fortunate that I have six weeks in my contract that I can take for the adoption. Unfortunately, I have to miss a week of school to handle something that doesn't make any sense. Yet, we will continue to fight for our girls. The girls are two years older than the first time I met them. I am excited to see them and spend time with them, yet I already fear the bitter good bye that will inevitably come on Tuesday. The same painful good bye that has happened so many times before...The same good bye that doesn't make any sense to me and is so confusing to the girls...  

What's the best case scenario for this trip?
  
*I submit some necessary documents to the US embassy on Thursday morning. 

*I will fire our Haitian lawyer on Thursday afternoon at our 2:00 appointment. 

*Our lawyer will turn over our adoption paperwork to me, without it costing us a fortune. Yes,    he holds the cards and I will be operating in the world of Haiti. 

*I will meet with the new attorney we are planning to hire,  who is very highly recommended by a major Haitian adoption organization. 

*Our new lawyer will be able to set up an appointment at Parquet, which is the Haitian court that is the next step in the adoption process. It would be incredible if this could happen on this trip. 

*Finally, Shelby and I will spend some amazing time with Jaline and Marie Line. Yes, Shelby is joining me on this trip and she's excited to get to know her sisters. Her heart breaks for her sisters and she has deeply struggled to understand why this process is taking so long. Well, we have all deeply struggled to understand that...  

I've given you the best case scenario. I want you all to know what you can specifically pray for.  We are in a battle and nothing is certain on this trip. I'm headed down knowing I have to do whatever I can to speed this process up and bring our girls home. However, I know our lawyer has failed to show up for numerous meetings and he has refused to give up our case already. I will attend the meeting with a Haitian pastor that will speak on our behalf. I will sit and pray as they talk and inevitably argue in French. Unfortunately, I don't understand French. 

I know our updates have been infrequent, but there's often nothing to say. When nothing seems to move and all that wells up in you is frustration, sometimes it's better to say nothing. We still have to get past Parquet (a level of Haitian court that has a number of steps). Then we head to the Ministry of Interior, which has a number of steps also. Then it's on to the Haitian passport agency and lastly the US government has to issue passports and final approval. Yes, we still face a number of months and the reality that the 3rd Christmas will pass since we started this painful process.  

Yes, our girls are doing wonderfully. They are filled with joy and are in excellent health.  They go to Haitian school every morning and they look ridiculously cute in their new uniforms. I reflect upon the time I was carrying my emaciated three and a half year old daughter, Jaline, and she whispered in creole that she wanted to go to school.  She saw the older kids in their uniforms in class and wanted to join them. Well, now she's got her own uniform, her backpack, and her own books and she walks to school each day with her big sister.   They also have English class in the afternoon. 

It's amazing to see the transformation, yet it's also painful to see them grow and reflect on everything we've missed in their lives. I think of a friend of a family who sees a child for the first time in six months and comments on how much they've grown and changed.  When our own kids grow, we often don't notice how much they've changed.  Well, I am about to see how much our girls have grown and changed in the past six months. I'm a bit nervous and excited at the same time. 

Please lift up our trip in prayer. There's so much that needs to happen and so many obstacles that need to be overcome.  Thanks for coming alongside us in this journey. 

Todd

Below is a picture of the kids in their "u-nies".  Jaline is in the first row, second girl from the left in orange.  Marieline is in the first row, the second girl from the right in orange.  Jaline's smile says, "I've been waiting a long time for this!"  Priceless!

Chances for Children Students dressed and ready for school!

She loves me, she loves me not...

Jaline, Spencer, Marie Line & Poppi

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not, She Loves Me!

After you’ve left you’re beautiful daughter so many times, with your heart broken and tears streaming down your face, it’s not surprising that she resorts to distancing herself from you and her emotions.  Little Jaline is my precious bebe that the Lord led me to in that orphanage in Barbancourt, Haiti, in August 2010.  He led me to a three and a half year old starving child that was so emaciated and weak that I truthfully wondered if she would be alive the next time I returned to Haiti.  I begged those I knew in Haiti to look out for her and prayed fervently that the Lord would protect her from starvation, disease, cholera and anything else that could end her precious life.  Little did I know, at that time, that her amazing sister was in the very same orphanage, less emaciated but still vulnerable to a host of problems that could sweep her away. 

I was fortunate enough to return a number of times after my first meeting with Jaline, and she clung to me, ate from my hand, and would often fall asleep under my watchful eye. However, things started to change.  I started to feel her pull away physically and emotionally and wondered why she seemed to be drifting away.  Did she love me?  Did she resent me?  After trying to recover from being spurned by Jaline while her friends at her new crèche couldn’t wait for a hug, to play, or laugh together, I started to process what my little girl was processing.  I have tried to explain before how difficult it is to explain to a 3, 4, or even 5 year old child, in English or Creole, that you’re going to bring her home to her new family that loves her, as soon as the government lets you.  I can’t even understand that.

I drove away from the girls crèche/orphanage again today with tears streaming down my face, wrestling with the stupidity of the fact that we can’t bring our girls home yet.  I can’t imagine what’s going through the mind of my precious Jaline, who celebrated her fifth birthday just over a week ago, as she watches her Poppi walk out the door again and drive away.  I wish I could make sense of that for her, but I just can’t.  Now her big sister Marie Line, who turned 7 about two weeks ago, has to experience her father walking out and driving away.  Every time I go, I whisper “Mwen Pral Vini Pita”, “I will come back”, and every time I do I pray for the day when we’ll walk with them onto the plane and finally bring our precious girls home. 

Well I’ve figured my precious Jaline out… She has been protecting herself by distancing herself and gets quiet and reserved to protect her little heart.  I watch her play with her fingers and twist the fabric of her dress when she is sad.  When she knows her Poppi is going to have to leave, her eyes go down and her fingers start twisting.  I had to watch that again this visit.  However, she showed her heart this visit in so many amazing ways.  I was blessed to be able to take our thirteen year old son Spencer with me to meet his sisters.  He was simply amazing.  His tender heart embraced his beautiful sisters and played as if they had been together their entire lives.  He may not speak much Creole but he didn’t need to… his language was love.  He brought such joy to their little hearts. Smiles and giggles were everywhere.  I am confident they have never laughed and smiled that much in their entire lives.  The healing of their hearts, especially Jaline’s, is evident as they are so quick to smile, laugh, and seek one embrace after another.  We were able to spend from Thursday night through Monday afternoon with the girls and it was amazing.  One day, we took the girls to the beach and a pool for their first time. The most telling moment was when the girls stood at the side of the pool and leaped, trusting that we would catch them, giggling into our arms and splashing into the water.  Amidst my joy, I had to stop and dwell on the word TRUST.  They trust, those precious hearts trust… As an adoptive parent, I know there will be many challenges, but it was unbelievable to see the growth in these girls as their hearts have learned to Love and Trust again.  Each time I leave, I struggle mightily, but TRUST our Lord is protecting and healing our daughters.

When we had to bring the girls back on Monday, Jaline walked up to the nannies and immediately told them she wasn’t staying there - she’s got some spunk to her…  She got very quiet, wouldn’t look at anyone, those sad eyes came back, as she twisted the ruffles on her dress.  She is still quite reserved with me at times and I see her protecting herself.  Marie Line seemed to be doing well until she came out crying.  She’s more open with her emotions and has a smile that she shows over and over again that melts you.  She smiles and looks at you with those eyes that say “I know you love me”. It’s so amazing and heartbreaking at the same time.  We left on Monday thinking it was the last time we would be able to see them this week, since we were working on building a rock retaining wall at the new crèche they are building for the kids, but we were able to make it back to spend the day with the girls today, before we left on our late afternoon flight out of Haiti.  I struggled over whether we should go back today, since I knew we would have to say good bye again.

When we walked in the crèche and the girls saw us, they both had the biggest smiles on their faces and they quickly came out to hug us.  I was overwhelmed to see that reaction out of Jaline especially.  We had a wonderful day playing with the girls and the rest of the kids in the crèche.  It’s always a balancing act since you never want to stop playing with the girls, but you know the other kids want and need to be loved.  All of the other kids in the crèche, except one, have adoptive parents waiting for them, but it’s often so long in between visits with their adoptive parents that you want to hold and love each one of them.  At nap time, we knew we had to say goodbye for good this trip.  It was quite painful again, especially when the tears are rolling down Marie Line’s cheeks, and you see your son broken, knowing he has to leave his sisters, not knowing when they’ll finally come home.  After we walked out, I peeked back in through a window a number of times, and I watched both of the girls staring at the pictures we had left for them at their beds.  They each have pictures of Poppi, Mommy, Shelby, Spencer, and Sophie taped around their beds.   They want to come home and you can see the genuine pain they struggle with knowing that they can’t spend more than just a weekend with their new family.  They know they are loved and they are learning to love back.  They are learning to trust.

We continue to trust.   I filed our I600 form at the US Embassy in Port au Prince on Monday.  That is a key form which is part of the ridiculous process of the US government giving us permission to adopt and to prepare the paperwork for the girls to become citizens and gain their passports.  The girls’ paperwork is currently moving through IBESR, which is the Haitian government agency which handles adoptions.  They need to process our paperwork and give their approval.  Once we have IBESR approval, we need a special Presidential dispensation/approval, from the office of the Haitian president, since we already have more than two children.  Finally, the last step will be approval from US Citizenship and Immigration Services (CIS) approval.  How long?  We don’t know.  We hope everything could be wrapped up in 6 more months, but there is no telling.  In the meantime, SHE LOVES ME… 

We pray that the process will move swiftly.  We pray that the girls will continue to grow, learn, and heal from the pain of their past.  It has been amazing to see the transformation in each of the girls.   We love them and we had an incredible glimpse into Jaline and Marie Line’s capacity to love this past week.  Thanks for walking this journey with us.  Your support and prayers help us push through those difficult days, weeks, and months when it seems like it’s taking forever and we can’t see any progress.  Please look at Samantha’s blog post from earlier this week to see some wonderful pictures of the girls. 

She loves me...I know I no longer have to pull the petals of the daisy.

Smiles, smiles, smiles!

For those of you who know my three eldest children you know that they certainly are not shy about expressing their emotions or exerting an opinion.  Occasionally when they were younger, they would host a quiet friend for a play date who seemed to express neither an opinion or an emotion.  When asked about what to do, what to eat or what to play, their response would be, "I don't know."  I was always curious as to how they were able to live in a world without really having the desire to make a choice or form an opinion.  Reading an emotion in these kids was often difficult.   I didn't really know if they were having a good time or if they wished they were home.  Turns out, they were having a good time, they just don't express their emotions like we do.

Today I wish I was that child.  I wish that the overly emotional side of me could just hibernate for a bit until it's time.

Todd sent me the picture below.  For those of you on facebook you may have seen other pictures that we have posted over the last few days.  Todd and Spencer are in Haiti this week doing some work at the new creche (the old creche is moving out of Port-au-Prince to the country).  While there, they have been able to spend four days with the girls.  From the pictures you can see that every face has the most genuine smile.  Spencer is just eating those girls up!  He can't seem to get enough of them.  And the girls, especially Jaline, have taken to him so well!  

day at the beach/pool

While this indeed is happy news, it also makes me incredible sad because a goodbye is in store.  Spencer and Todd will have to leave and the girls will go back to the creche.  And we continue to wait.  I don't know what the girls know or are capable of understanding.  This is the hard part.  The little tastes of them that is only a brief visit.

However, even in this waiting and longing for them to come home, there is good that is happening!  As you can see from the pictures the girls are doing quite well.  They are eating and sleeping well.  We are thrilled that Marie Line will soon be starting school in the local village!  How healthy they look compared to earlier pictures.  Their hight and weight is just slightly below where it should be here on the American growth chart.  I have noticed that since Marie Line joined Jaline, Jaline's disposition has improved.  She is happy all the time!  The girls absolutely love to play with each other and seem to be inseparable.  From the pictures, it seems they will have no problem playing with their other siblings!

Todd was hoping to take care of some legal stuff for the adoption while they are there visiting.  If we have anything to report as far as a timeline, we will update you again through the blog.

In the meantime, pray for the hearts of my family.  We are all raw with emotion.  The pictures of them just makes the heart ache deeper.

~Samantha

very happy smiles!

sweet happy girls in the clothes and shoes we sent to them

"second trimester"

First of Todd and I want to thank your for supporting us in our adoption endeavor.  Many of you have sent encouraging notes and emails at times when we have really needed support.  Financially, we are overwhelmed with the generosity of our friends and family.  Over $15,000 was deposited to our Lifesong account in 2011!  That doesn't include the cash donations people gave us directly. There are many roles in the adoption process and we are grateful for your partnership with us.

The waiting...

I have to say that in this period of wait it has reminded me so many times of my three pregnancies.  When I found out I was pregnant I was thrilled to share the news.  The excitement.  The anticipation.  The hope.  Family and friends jumped on board and extended their sentiments of joy to us.  And for those of you who were around when sweet little Sophie was causing havoc my first trimester, you took care of my family by bringing us food and watching my kids.  You showered us with love and made it clear that we were not alone.  When we stepped on to this wacky train called adoption, you all were crazy enough to hop on too.  The excitement swelled and we were all ready (or so we thought) for them to be here.  Ah but the waiting...

Once I was into the second trimester of my pregnancy with Sophie, things returned to normal.  I was eating again, :o) kids were back to routine again and the waiting began.  Sometimes that mid trimester seems uneventful.  While the "bump" continues to get larger, we don't actually see the internal growth.  We don't see the tiny miracles that our transforming out baby.  We don't see that our baby's lungs are forming and that her body is creating it's own immune system.  We don't see it yet we are trusting God that He is forming that baby perfectly!   That doesn't mean we don't worry.  That doesn't mean we don't wonder.  However, we are blindly enamored with their growth.

And so it is with this adoption process.  I am in a "gestation" period.  I am waiting.  I am wondering.  I am impatient.  Though this wait is more like the gestation of an elephant, nonetheless I am blindly enamored with their growth.  The girls are learning to trust right now.  Can I tell you how huge that is!  They lived for so long with their needs not being met and now they are learning that when they have a need, someone will meet it.  When they are hurt someone will hug them and make it better.  When they are dirty someone will bathe them.  When they are tired there is a warm bed to crawl in to.  They are learning what it means to bond with someone.  This inherent human need has been stripped away from an orphan and they need to relearn trust.  My favorite movie right now is Dispicable Me because it is in essence, the story of adoption.  At the end Gru (the adpoptive father) tells one of the adopted girls to jump to him from a plane and she won't.  She says, "How can I trust you, you left us!"  And he says, "I promise to never leave you Margo."  That is the heart of an orphan.  Trust.  And the thought of being in that dark and lonely place haunts them for many years.  

This past weekend I was at an adoption conference with a friend.  It was amazing and a huge resource for me as an "expectant" mom.  How comforting for me to be in a large room filled with people in the same boat as us!  I know some people think we are crazy adding two more to our family, but let me say, crazy was the norm in that room and oh was that encouraging!  Over the weekend, in a time of reflection, I journaled a very honest prayer, "God I feel like you have forgotten us."  And by no coincidence at all, I was led to this place in the bible where the prophet Isaiah cries out, "The Lord has forgotten me."  To which God replies, "I will not forget you!  See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.  Those who hope in me will not be disappointed."  (Is. 49:15-16).  Indeed He has not forgotten us.  I find tremendous comfort in that.  He didn't give me an answer.  He didn't give me an end date.  He did promise to walk with me step by step.  

God is growing our girls.   We can't see it, but they are growing and learning.  While waiting and anticipating the birth of a child, we don't decide to give birth at 6 months.  We have to wait for their arrival until they are fully developed and ready to enter our home.  Though it is heart breaking to wait, only God knows the "arrival" date of the girls.  We in the meantime must trust.  

We are still waiting for our dossier to be submitted to the IBESR.  We received word today that it should be submitted this Friday.  In the meantime, we covet your prayers for us here and the girls there.  We know God is at work even when we can't see it tangibly.