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 Once again she had that sad, withdrawn look that she greeted us with only two short days earlier.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.