It is done!

Our family, finally together, after almost 2 years!

It is done. We are home. It has been a crazy, crazy process, but that is exactly what I expected. Let me back up and fill in all that has happened that I haven’t yet written about: 

We received the adoption decree mid-September. Christina was ours! What a mix of emotions, knowing she now had our last name yet could not come home.

We entered Ministry of the Interior (for her Haitian passport) on September 28, 2012. At this point we were given a loose timeline of 12 weeks (loose being the operative word here) which meant if all things went smoothly she could be home before Christmas! I latched onto Christmas...prayed for Christmas. Not that a few weeks on either side would make a difference in the scheme of life, but for some reason I just needed her to be home by Christmas.

We were out of MOI with her passport and entered USCIS for approval from the American government on October 29, 2012. We received notice from USCIS that our adoption had been approved by United States on November 23. Our adoption agency director told us to buy a stocking for Christina, she would be home by Christmas! My prayers were answered!

We did have one tiny glitch: our fingerprints for USCIS expired on November 24, 2012. Our fingerprint appointment was scheduled December 17. Considering we needed current fingerprints for the Visa appointment (which would happen well before December 17) we drove to the Denver USCIS office the day after Thanksgiving and requested they allow us to redo our prints. With a bit of grumbling and irritation from the USCIS government workers, we were told to come back in 2 hours and they would “fit us in” (after all, they had at least 5 people waiting in the lobby!). Two hours later we returned to an empty waiting room and they fingerprinted us...they fingerprints would be uploaded into the system within a couple of days, which, we were told should be in enough time for our Visa appointment. Whew! That was a stressful couple of hours. Wouldn’t it have been ironic if our fingerprints were the hold up in the process, after all this time.

We waited and waited for the American Department of Security (DOS) in Haiti to schedule our Visa appointment. I think I checked my emails every 15 minutes for a week. Nothing. At this point we were panicking. Our hope for Christina being home for Christmas dwindled. We knew the Visa appointment would be scheduled 1-2 weeks out and we had at least another week after that before we would receive the final exit letter from the Haitian government. And we found out that another family who had received their USCIS exit letter on the same day as us received their Visa appointment 2 days later. What was going on?!?

To make matters even more confusing, the orphanage director in Haiti was going to be out of the country as of December 13. Not only did we usually stay at her house, but she was the person who shuttled the paperwork from office to office in Haiti!

I am sure we drove our director crazy as we emailed almost daily asking if she had heard anything (as if she would withhold any information from us!). Weston even contacted our US Senators to see if they could pull some strings and get the Visa appointment more quickly -- only to then find out getting a Senator involved could actually slow the process. 

Finally we got the email that the Visa appointment was scheduled for December 11. Pretty sure our case got held up on someone’s desk -- 3 weeks between exiting USCIS and receiving a Visa appointment was unusually long. Grrrr!

Again we worried that there was no way that Christina would be home by Christmas without a serious miracle. I looked up plane tickets and to my dismay not only were the prices twice as expensive the weekend before Christmas, but flights were few and far between, with horrific layovers. Against our agency director’s better judgment, (she recommended we not book flights until after the Visa appointment happened, in case something went wrong), I booked flights for Weston, Jake and me for December 17, returning with Christina December 20. I was afraid if I waited there wouldn’t be any flights left! I had to trust that the paperwork would be finished in time.

We emailed our agency director on December 12, asking her how the Visa appointment went. Her reply: she hadn’t heard anything because the appointment was the 13. What?!? I went back through my emails, thinking I had lost my mind, but in fact, my email from the DOS office stated the appointment was in fact for December 11.

What if our Haitian attorney accidentally wrote down the wrong date? What if she missed the appointment? We already booked our flights!

We decided that regardless of the status of the paperwork, we would fly to Haiti as scheduled. If the paperwork wasn’t complete, I would stay in Haiti with Christina and Weston and Jake would return home for Christmas. I would fly home with Christina the minute the paperwork was finished (which could be as late as January, with government offices being closed for the Holidays). I did not enjoy the prospect of staying behind in Haiti without Weston, but there was no way we were going to leave Christina again.

December 17 drew closer and closer, with zero word from Haiti on our Visa/Exit letter status. At this point Sonya, the Haitian orphanage director and our only Haitian contact, was out of the country. There just was no way to know if the appointment happened, or the status of our paperwork. We didn’t even know where we were staying once we arrived in Haiti!

My mother-in-law arrived at our house the Saturday before we were to leave to stay with Sam and Sophie. We were supposed to leave at 11:50 pm, Monday December 17, to arrive in Haiti Tuesday morning, December 18. Sunday evening Jake, who was going with us, declared he didn’t feel well. Sore throat, headache, achy body and a bit of nausea. Seriously?

I spent Monday packing and running last minute errands. I made Jake stay home from school, hoping rest would speed his recovery. I debated whether or not to take him to the doctor and get him tested for the flu. I certainly didn’t want him to travel if he had the flu; That wouldn’t be fair to anyone! Him, the other passengers, the kiddos at the orphanage in Haiti, no one needed those germs. But by 1pm he decided he felt a bit better, so I prayed that he was on the mend. If he wasn’t vomiting or having diarrhea by the time we left, he was going. We still had not heard if Christina had a Visa or the Haitian exit letter. I waited until late in the day to contact our agency director, figuring if she knew something she would have called. Finally at 4pm I couldn't take it any longer. We were supposed to board the plane in 8 hours and had no idea if the paperwork was finished, where we were staying or if I needed to rebook Christina’s and my return flight!

I left a couple of panicked voice mails. Finally I got the phone call we had been waiting for: the Visa was complete, and the exit letter was done. It was finished. A miracle had happened. Praise God! A huge weight was lifted. But I still had a tight feeling in my chest and couldn’t relax. 

On our way to the airport...finally!

We boarded the plane at midnight for our 4 hour flight to Miami. I had to sit by myself in the middle row (there weren’t any seats together) and my plan was to sleep. Unfortunately, the man who sat beside me apparently had salami and onions for dinner. He slept great. I, however received the brunt of his dinner.

Here’s a little tip: if you plan to fly overnight, eat something that doesn't eek out of every pore, your breath and your rear end. Just a thought.

So we landed in Miami at 4 am, me with zero sleep. We grabbed coffee and breakfast and waited for our flight to Haiti. Jake, thank goodness, was feeling pretty good. I truly believe God healed him. He had all the symptoms of the illness that was traveling through our community with a vengeance and yet after just a few hours seemed fine. I was so grateful to all those who had been praying for his health.

I sat next to a very kind Haitian man who asked me to help hime with his customs documents. I don’t think he could read and write. So I asked him questions and filled out his documents as best I could.

A few hours later we landed in Haiti. Hot and humid, just like we remembered.

I will write more soon, with a busy 4 year old, my writing is taking a while...

Returning to Haiti, day one

Preparing for our trip

Preparing for our third trip to Haiti has been a bit stressful.  The week before we were to leave Weston was in a mountain biking accident and dislocated his shoulder, broke his humerus bone and scraped up his face and arm pretty badly.  For a few days we weren't even sure he was going to be able to go.  He was in immense pain, hardly sleeping and on pretty strong meds. Meanwhile, due to his accident I skipped both of my long runs for my 50 mile training.  And I can't run while in Haiti, which means I will be  two weeks behind in my training when I return from the trip. I realize this is not the end of the world, but was still tough to work through, emotionally.  Running this race means a lot to me.  Once Christina comes home my training will be drastically reduced, so this is my last time to train for a race like this for a while.

The Tuesday before we left Weston's doctor cleared him for the trip, saying he can be in pain at home or in pain in Haiti, it really didn't matter.  

So we left for Haiti at 11:50pm Thursday night, after a long day of work for Weston and packing for me.

When originally booked the flight, Weston Sam and I had aisle seats scattered all over the plane.  But the lady at the ticket counter was nice enough to find us three seats together in the very last row.  I wonder how three seats were suddenly available in the same row when there weren't even two seats together when I booked the trip a few weeks ago. I am not complaining, I am grateful she accommodated us, more than anything just curious.

The first 2 hours of the flight were pretty turbulent.  We tried to sleep, but the bouncing keep jarring me awake.  I am pretty sure I dreamed that the plane was ripping apart due to the rough air.

It finally settled down and I was able to get a couple hours of restless, uncomfortable sleep.  

We landed in Miami at dawn and had about 40 minutes until our next flight boarded.  Just barely enough time to make it to the gate, get a much needed cup of coffee, buy some bottles of water and use the bathroom.  Again we were able to get three seats together, this time the second to last row.  Unfortunately the lady behind me was obviously sick and kept coughing all over my head.  Her cough was so violent that she kept grabbing my seat back to steady herself, jerking me backwards and whacking me in the head with her rings.  Not a fun flight.  It will be a miracle if none of us catch whatever it is she had.

Arriving in Haiti

It is never dull on a plane to Haiti.  As we arrived at the gate and waited to deplane, a woman who was wearing at least 5 dress hats of various sizes, shapes and colors (I kid you not, they were stacked up on her head!  Remember that book you read as kid, Caps For Sale? She had them stacked up, just like in that book!) started shouting and singing and using giant arm motions.  I have no idea what that was about but it was entertaining to say the least.

Sam had expressed nervousness about two things: getting through the airport without being mauled by people trying to take our bags, and meeting Christina and discovering she doesn't like him.

So he was a bit nervous as we entered customs, but he did a great job.  He wheeled the heaviest two bags and navigated the crowd like a champ.  We got through customs with no trouble (I have mastered filling out the customs forms!).  But I accidentally made eye contact with a guy at baggage who took that to mean he could grab my baggage stub out of my hand and find our bag for us.  That little mistake cost us a tip, although he did find the bag fairly quickly.

We walked the long, hot sidewalk to the parking lot, where we hoped our driver would be waiting for us, saying "no, meci" to anyone who tried to "help" us.  Our driver found us almost immediately and we carefully navigated our luggage through pot holes, weaving in and out of the sea of cars trying to get out of the parking.  The whole airport experience is one great big chaotic mess.  

We arrived at the car and while our driver opened the trunk for our bags, a man grabbed Weston's bag, lifted it two feet to the trunk and demanded a tip.  We refused.  He was slightly put out, but at least he left without making a scene.

Ahh, at last, safely in the air conditioned car!  Traffic was typical Haiti: crazy driving, honking of horns, motorcycles weaving between cars, cars making their own lanes.  Sam was fascinated (and a bit nervous).  He couldn't believe the insane driving and was very impressed with our driver's ability to weave in and out of the cars.  

Arriving at the orphanage

Weston saw Christina first when we arrived at the orphanage.  He said she had a hint of a smile and seemed to recognize him.  But by the time I walked in, after unloading the car, she was shy and withdrawn, no smile to be found.  We sat with her for a few minutes.  She sat on my lap but was mostly unresponsive to questions or snuggles.

A little reserved at first...

Meanwhile a few of the kids had tackled Sam, sitting on his lap, tossing their balloons at him for him to bat back to them.  Sam was so good to the little ones, snuggling them, playing with them, letting them climb all over him.  He really seemed to enjoy playing with everyone.  One little girl was smitten and spent most of the afternoon on his lap or in his arms.

There are a lot of new faces at the orphanage.  Lots of toddlers, probably 10 months through 3 years.  At one point I counted 19 children in the main area but I know I missed a few who were upstairs. The baby room was full, too.  The little girls we played with during our first two visits were gone.  We found out two had finally joined their adoptive families and two were at some sort of summer day camp and would return later that night.

Christina was a bit nervous about Weston's arm being in a sling and was pretty standoffish towards him.  So the little boy who latched on to Weston during our last visit once again found his way onto Weston's lap for a while.  

We played with all the kids for a couple of hours, watched them dance to Boy George, Michael Jackson and a weird remix of Abba instrumentals. 

 We were served very strong, thick coffee and a snack of saltines.  Christina enjoyed playing a game where she hopped up onto the third step of the stairs and tossed her ballon down to Sam.  Pretty soon 3-4 little ones joined in the fun, until I, the overprotective American mom, stopped the game because I was afraid someone would tumble down the concrete stairs.  

A little while later we ate lunch with Christina: canned tuna and onions (sounds gross, but it was actually pretty good) and some sort of potato dish. And a cold beer which tasted great, it was so hot and humid!

The rest of the children ate in the main room, but the routine was not the same as it was the last two times we visited.  Before, they all prayed and then ate together at the large table.  This time I never heard them pray and they ate in shifts. It seemed a bit chaotic. Maybe because there are just so many kids now, and some are so young they can't really feed themselves.  

Finally Sonia arrived to take us to her house.  She was late for a good reason, earlier that morning IBESR had called her asking if she would take in a five day old baby that someone had found abandoned in the streets.   So she had an unscheduled trip to pick up the baby and get paperwork filled out.  She let us see the baby for a minute, she was so tiny!  And so very lucky to have been found.  A few hours in that heat and that baby would have died.  I fear that this is going to become even more common now, moms abandoning their babies.  IBESR is implementing new rules on August 20, 2012 that will make it harder for parents to relinquish their children to orphanages.  And children will not be adoptable until after their birthday.  You can read the new rules here, on our agency's website.  I know IBESR is simply trying to protect the children, but I wonder if these new rules will end up creating more abandonment situations.

We shared the ride to the guest house with Stephan, a german man who is also staying at Sonia's house tonight. He and his wife adopted twin girls from her orphanage 2 1/2 years ago and he was back to meet with the girls' biological parents.  They had not been able to meet them during their adoption process.  Stephan and his wife were in Haiti to bring the girls home when the earthquake happened.  He said they had considered staying at a local hotel instead of Sonia's guest house that trip, but at the last minute decided to stay at Sonia's. Their change of plans saved their lives.  The hotel was devastated in the earthquake.  He said hardly anything even shook at Sonia's.  He talked a little about being in Haiti during the week after the quake, and that they couldn't get a flight out in the confusion.  Luckily they were able to get one of the last buses to the Dominican Republic and took a flight home from there.

The driver drove us by the hotel where he and his wife almost stayed; it is beautiful and slowly being rebuilt.  

At the guest house

We had dinner (which consisted of some sort of beef, rice and beans, avocado and tomato salad and some sort of fried tuber veggie-- Sam is in love with the food!) with Stephan, who said meeting the girls biological parents was hard but worth the trip.  They answered questions about their family and why they made the decision to relinquish the girls.  They have two older children and simply couldn't afford to care for the twins. The unemployed father is in his late 40's, and the average lifespan for a Haitian is around 50, so he knew he probably wouldn't even live to see the twins grow up.  The parents made the incredibly tough decision to relinquish their girls hoping they would have a better life.  I can't even imagine having to make that choice.

After dinner we sat outside on the back patio.  Christina decided it was time to explore the house a bit, so I followed her around to make sure she stayed out of trouble.  For the most part she is obedient.  I sometimes have to repeat myself 3-4 times before she follows directions, but overall she is pretty good about listening.  

She brought us book after book after book to look through (I couldn't actually read them, they were in German).  She loves to look at books.  A kitten appeared from the bushes and came over to us for us as we sat on the patio.  When Christina saw the cat she leapt up onto a chair and started whining, visibly frightened.  I am not sure she has ever seen a cat.  After a few minutes she was willing to look at the cat, but did not want to get anywhere near it.  It will be interesting to see how she reacts to our cat and dog.

I took Christina upstairs for a bath.  The air conditioning in our room does not seem to be working; I think it must be 95 degrees in our room.  And we cant open the windows because the mosquitos are thick.  The cool water in the bath felt good to her, and we got on her pull up, pjs, brushed teeth and snuggled into our bed.  I rubbed her back for a few minutes and she was asleep.  

I put her into her crib and took my own shower, which felt great.  I was feeling so slimy and gross.  Our room is so hot that the minute I stepped back into it from my shower I started sweating again.  It is going to be a rough night in the heat.  Weston's arm is pretty swollen and very sore and the heat isn't helping.  But we are all exhausted so I am going to call it a night and attempt to sleep.

Our last day in Haiti...and reflections of our trip.

March 30, 2012

We woke Christina up just as the sun was coming up. She did not want to wake up. We got her ready, packed her bags and went down to breakfast. Sonia was nowhere to be found, but we figured she would show up when it was time for Christina to leave. I think this was the sweetest, most fun Christina had been for us yet.

She chatted and smiled through breakfast. We played on the patio for a while; she decided I made a terrific jungle gym and climbed all over me, laughing and talking.

We headed back to our room to finish packing and she helped us put things in our bags and tidy up the room. Suddenly there was a knock on our door and Sonia's husband told us he was ready to take us to the airport. (No time to take a shower, I guess not taking one last night was a huge mistake, now I had to travel all sticky and gross!) I asked who was going to take Christina and he replied that a driver was waiting to take her back to the orphanage. We picked up our bags, and Christina, thinking she was going with us on another fun excursion grabbed her things and happily carried them down the stairs to the carport. She was chatting and giggling as we loaded her bag into one car and our bags into another. We hugged and kissed her goodbye and Sophie and Weston began to cry. She was not sure why we were so upset until she suddenly realized she was not going with us. The driver buckled her into the backseat of his car and the look on her face broke my heart. Once again she had that sad, withdrawn look that she greeted us with only two short days earlier. A vacant stare.  She wouldn't even look at me or say goodbye.

We got in our car, Sophie was sobbing, but trying to keep herself composed. And we drove away. Knowing that Christina was the back seat of the car completely alone, with no one she trusted to explain to her what just happened was almost unbearable. I forced myself to look out the window and not think about it. Sophie continued to cry for most of the drive, which should have been 30 minutes but ended up taking us almost two hours. The night before it had rained pretty hard for a couple of hours and the roads were a muddy, flooded mess. Rivers of dirty water and trash raced down the gutters and the mud was a foot thick, swallowing tires and shoes that tried to get through it. Pedestrians did their best to avoid the puddles and muck, but most were covered to their knees in grey dirt. But at least they were making forward progress on the road as we sat in a true traffic jam. I have never before experienced the chaos of Haiti traffic like this. Cars made their own lanes, trying to pass anywhere they could. A two lane road turned into 7 lanes, cars drove on sidewalks, on the opposite side of the road. Horns honked and at one point a police officer, trying to direct traffic through an impassable intersection actually drew his pistol to get cars to stop. I watched as men took small shovels and attempted to clear muck and water from the flooded roads.  What a hopeless job, because the minute it rains again all the work they did will be back in the streets. It reminded me of the story I had heard about prisoners being forced to carry rocks from one end of a yard to the other, only to carry them back again when they were finished, until they went crazy.  We started to worry we wouldn't make our flight. Although I was never afraid for our safety, it is amazing how safe you can feel enclosed in a car, I marveled at the craziness of the street in front of me. 

We finally made it to the airport, said good bye to Sonia's husband and did our best to ignore the men trying to take our bags and "help" us check in. One man tried to tell us if we followed him he could get us checked in faster. We had to pay him $3 just to get him to leave us alone.

We checked in. The ticket agent asked us is Sophie was a "garçon" or "fil" and did not believe me when I said "fil". I could tell that behind the hands they had over their mouths they were discussing Sophie's short hair.

We went through two security check points and arrived at a large crowded, noisy waiting room with no gates, no clock, no signs, nothing to indicate where our flight was going to board. We asked an airport employee where Insel air was and we were told to sit anywhere. Our boarding time came and went. We noticed that others had boarding passes like ours, so we figured we had to be in the right place. And since no planes had taken off, at least we knew we hadn't missed the flight.

After an hour or so an employee yelled "Insel" and we stood up and followed a crowd through a door to a flight of stairs, where people jockeyed for position to be first in line. No rows were called, just one giant exodus to the plane. It was all we could do to stay together. It wasn't as though people were rude, but at the same time they were certainly not going to do anything to help a fellow passenger. It was every man for himself.

We climbed up a steep metal staircase each carrying two carry-on bags. We had not checked any of our bags, in hopes of being able to put them in the overhead bins and avoid a long line at customs in Miami.

Finally we were in our seats, luggage stowed and ready for the 2 hour flight home. The flight was uneventful, except for the occasional bout of tears from Sophie-- she missed Christina and couldn't believe we had to leave her.

Another trip behind us.

As I reflect back on the trip, I have mixed emotions. It was amazing getting to spend one-on-one time with Christina. I loved that Sophie and Christina got along so well and that Sophie fell in love with her little sister. I loved seeing the true Christina emerge. A smart, chatty, fun-loving, energetic little girl. I was glad to see what things made her come out of her shell and what made her withdraw. It will help so much to know this before we bring her home. But my heart breaks with the knowledge that even though the orphanage is a good place, it is not a place where Christina's personality thrives. She prefers quiet, calm environments and the orphanage is anything but that. Just like some kids do well in day care and others don't, Christina just doesn't do as well in crowds or lots of activity.  We never saw Christina cry.  I wonder if she has taught herself not to.  And she never truly hugged us or kissed us.  Yes, she snuggled up to us and wanted us to hold her, but there was never a real hug or kiss that she initiated.

I am overwhelmingly sad at the way our goodbye transpired. I had no idea a driver was going to load her up in the back seat of a car and transport her the hour or more drive back to the orphanage. What was going on in her head that entire time? Did anyone tell her where she was going? Did she cry? Did the driver console her? Or was he wearing his earbuds like he did when he picked us up from the airport on our first day, and keep to himself? Did she withdraw back into herself like I watched her do every time she was in a new situation? And once she got back to the orphanage, was she glad to be back? What did she tell her friends about her time with us? Did the nannies help her process her experience? How long did it take her to get back into the swing of orphanage routine? And has she forgotten us?  Or worse, decided she doesn't like us because we left her?

The culture is so very different, I can't imagine that our visit was explained in a way that would make sense to me, as a mom and American.

But more than anything, if I am honest, I am angry. I am angry at the Haitian government for having slow, antiquated processes. I am angry at the people who took kids illeagally after the 2010 earthquake, making the process slow even further. I know that was not their intention, but the fallout of that was a further distrust of the Haitian people towards Americans and adoption. Our paperwork has been in the Haitian government system since November, 2011.  We have not yet gotten one of the many signatures required to move forward, and according to Sonia, she has no idea when we will.  Presently our paperwork is sitting on the President's desk awaiting dispensation, and it could sit there for months.  He has no incentive to sign our paperwork, except when an American celebrity, like Oprah, visits.  Then he signs a few as a gesture of "goodwill."

And if I am truly honest with myself, I am angry at God. Because ultimately He could perform a miracle and cause our paperwork to go though faster. He could do something. You can’t tell me that Christina’s life is not being damaged in some way by living in the orphanage. Her little personality is not meant to be there. She is meant to be with us, a calm, laid-back family who gets that sometimes you need quiet. We already have one kid who didn’t do crowds and noise well when he was little. We know how to deal with that. I can’t even really think about it or I get so mad/hurt that I want to scream. How can where she is be best? Why won’t God do something?

And yet, I have a choice. I can choose to turn from Him, to tell Him he is not being fair. Or I can choose to really trust that He does have her best interest, and ours, in mind. That He is holding all of us in the palm of His hand and loves us immeasurably and is guiding our steps. I don’t feel like that, but I have to choose that path. He is the one who turned our hearts to adoption. It was His voice that told both Weston and me this was the path to choose. And He has it under control. He wouldn’t have placed us here without a plan. It is simply a plan that at this moment I do not see or understand. And I know that through it I will grow, Weston will grow, Christina and all our kids will grow. Our choice is to grow closer to Him through it. Ultimately, isn't that what He wants for us?  Isn't that His best plan?

Today, with tears stinging my eyes, that is what I must cling to in the midst of my anger and hurt. I will continue to pray with all my heart that He move the government to quick action. That Christina comes home in record time. I will pray for a miracle. But a miracle has already happened. She is my child. A little girl, born a world away, years after I decided I was done having kids, has become mine because of Him. So I know He can perform miracles and if He chooses, will perform another. But regardless, I will continue to choose Him, and trust Him, because it is not about what He can do for me now, but what He has already done for me on the cross.

Christina day one

Christina day three

Can you see a difference?

She was meant for our family.

A new day!

It's amazing what a new day will bring! I prayed last night that I would leave Haiti feeling good about our trip, Christina and the whole experience. Today He confirmed that He is indeed in control.

Let me back up a bit. When I first tried to book our trip I tried to book tickets for the middle to end of October. To our dismay, the ONLY dates available with our frequent flier miles were the five days in November that we finally booked. Two weeks past what we wanted.

When we arrived in Haiti Friday the orphanage director of the guest house we are staying at mentioned that we might be going to see the Dean on Monday. I had no idea what this meant, but I said ok. We had been told to just be agreeable to whatever we were told, so I acted like I knew what she was talking about.

Today after breakfast (we tried to eat as much of it as we could-- the ladies here seem to be offended that we leave food, but we simply can not eat all the food they serve us!) we were told to dress up, as we were going to meet with the Dean. Now, we did not bring dress clothes. We had no idea we would have any official meetings this trip. We put on the nicest clothes we had (thank goodness I had packed one skirt!) and were driven to Christina's orphanage once again.

The kids were dressed for their school day, all matching green polos and blue jeans. Christina came over to me immediately and wanted to be picked up. She refused to let anyone else near me. One little guy, maybe 2 years old, when he saw us, came running to us with open arms as fast as his little legs could carry him, a huge grin on his face. He literally threw himself at Weston. So sweet!

Sonya, the director of the orphanage where Christina stays, told us she had been able to get us an appointment (I still was not sure what appointment she was talking about) and she needed to prepare us. So she drilled us with questions:

Why do you want to adopt when you already have three children?

How are you going to provide for her?

How are you going to love her as much as your other children?

What did our children think of the adoption?

What does your extended family think of Christina?

What will we do if she is made fun of for her black skin at school?

Does having a black child bother us at all?

Are there other black children in our neighborhood?

When we answered all the questions to her satisfaction, we kissed Christina a quick good bye, told her we would be back soon and left for our appointment.

We got to see a new part of Port au Prince. The entire city seems the same-- street after street of destroyed buildings, piles of rubble and people everywhere. We did see some construction projects: they are rebuilding the streets and drainage in some of the worst areas.

We arrived at a building with 20-30 people milling around outside, obviously waiting to go in. We were told to stay in the car. Sonya brought a man out to us and had us sign a book -- I could tell the handwritten pages were all about us. I saw our names, social security numbers and some dates. All written by hand! She told us that was the paper needed before we could see the Dean. (what the heck is "the Dean!?!")

Then she handed me the official copy of our dossier to look through. Our dossier is every piece of paper needed to process the adoption. In Haiti it is all kept in a big file folder. There are no PDFs or computer files, it is all done the old fashioned way by hand. I read as best I could (it was all in French-- I am so grateful for my four years of French in high school and college!) all of the documents on Christina. Her psychological profile, where they found her, how she was when she first arrived at the orphanage, how long Sonya waited until she decided Christina was ready to be adopted.

We arrived at a government building and were ushered into one waiting room, then another. Everyone else was dressed in suits and dress shoes. We felt very under dressed. We were also the only white people.

Sonya told us the Dean was busy but would try to squeeze us in shortly. So we waited. And waited. About an hour later we were told she had a staff meeting and we would have to keep waiting. Then about a minute later we told to hurry into the office. The staff wasn't ready for the meeting, so she would see us now.

We walked in to an air conditioned office and a stern looking woman told us to sit down. She then told Sonya to give her the dossier file and to leave the room. She asked for our passports, looked over them, compared them to the dossier file. She proceeded to ask us many of the same questions Sonya had prepared us for. She did not look happy.

These are the pictures we showed the Dean.

Finally she asked to see pictures of us with Christina.  We got out our camera and showed her a couple of pictures and she seemed to soften.  "She is very pretty", she said to us with a slight smile. "Good luck" and she signed the documents.

As we got in the car to return to the orphanage, I asked Sonya when we would have to go to court. She laughed and said "you just did! That was your court date and she was the judge! And my questions helped prepare you, no?"

I had no idea! The final document needed in order for us to go to court had come in two days before we arrived. Because it came in right before we got here Sonya was able to schedule a court date for us today! Had we visited when we originally planned, in October, we would have missed the opportunity to go to court. God knew what He was doing!

Our paperwork will now head to IBESR and await the presidential dispensation. Our wait time probably won't be any shorter but at least we won't have to come back for the court date.

We had a few minutes to snuggle Christina before we had to head back to our guesthouse. She was very sad and withdrawn. She snuggled Weston, clutching his shirt in her little hand, her head on his shoulder. In her other hand she held the picture book we had given her. It is apparent she knows we are her family. She is one smart little girl.

Another couple from Germany was also at the orphanage. They are picking their little boy up to take him home this week. We had a few minutes to chat with them (the husband spoke decent English) and he said they had been in the adoption process since May, 2010. And they don't have any other children. That makes my heart sink. Our process could be even longer than that. Sonya said to count on at least another year, but that she is praying the president signs off on our paperwork in miraculous time.

We said goodbye to all the sweet kids, kissing each one, and kissing Christina over and over. We told her we would be back. She didn't cry, she just lay limply in our arms.

On our way back to the guest house we told Sonya we were pretty sure Christina knew we were adopting her, but that we had worked hard not to tell her. Sonya said its ok for her to know. It gives her hope as she sees other children leave with their white mamas and papas. She can hold her photo album and know she has a family coming for her too. One of her buddies left last week, another cutie (who I just love!) will leave the first week of December. At least adoptions are happening, however slowly.

We got back to the guest house just in time for lunch. Rats. Another huge meal to try and finish. We were hoping to miss lunch time and save room for the huge dinner we know is coming. Tonight we have vowed to eat all the meat we are served. It was apparent that not finishing all of the duck we were served last night was a bit offensive. We may pop, but maybe we will for once show our appreciation for the meal.

We've printed out our boarding passes for our trip home. It took us close to an hour with the slow Internet and old computers and printers they have here. No wonder paperwork takes so long here! I am so sad to leave Christina here. But I am happy to go home, see my other kiddos, take a nice warm shower, wash my face with water and drink a cold beer.