Our Referral: All the Feelings

Note: Not long ago, I received some great advice from a woman/adoptive mama/blogger that I greatly admire about the power of brevity and editing in a blog post. Today, I did not heed that advice. At all. I am striving to be less wordy in the future, but today...it all poured out. Grab yourself a big mug of coffee, paragraphs are ahead.  

Bonjou! (good morning!) 

A few weeks ago, I started to draft a blog update, as we were approaching a couple of milestones in our adoption process:
1. November 2015, we began our long, complex adoption journey. 
2. November 2016 (11/4/16, to be exact), we first glimpsed baby K, on a Waiting Children list, and immediately began to pursue her. On top of this, I was acutely aware that her second birthday is later this month.

As I was drafting the post, I was struggling to put my emotions into clear language. Over the last year, K has been regularly on our minds and hearts. If you've followed along with the blog, you'll recall that while we were hoping and praying that we would get the referral for her (aka, the official "match"), we experienced a couple of hiccups along the way where we believed we would not. As November rolled around again, I was feeling frustrated and sad that we did not have any more news to share. Ultimately, I ended up just setting this post aside, and told myself I'd come back to it.

Then, a few days later, I received a call from our agency. "This is a unique situation, and I wasn't sure if I should call you yet...but, after talking with my supervisor, we decided it would be best that we reach out. The crèche has lodging held for you on the 22nd of this month." 

Long story short, the crèche where K lives is remote, and has limited lodging available for families. The crèche directors felt "sure enough" that our match for K was going to come through that they had held a room for our socialization trip. This is quite uncommon; the "typical" process is that we would not receive the call announcing our match until IBESR had officially signed off on it. But, since the notice was so short, our agency wanted us to be able to begin our preparation as soon as possible (i.e., let our work know, buy plane tickets, secure coverage for Eisley and Dublin, purchase necessary items for the trip...)

We were overjoyed, but slightly skeptical, and held our breath for the next week. One week after this call, on 11/15/17, the official word indeed arrived. We received our referral for K! We still have a long way to go, but this is a huge milestone in the international adoption process. We are incredibly excited and incredibly overwhelmed. 

(As an aside, we were just saying the other day that we were starting to feel "at home" in our new house and neighborhood. Then, BAM! The referral comes through. His timing sure is amazing, huh?)

So, here's what's next 

J and I will be flying to Haiti for 2 weeks, to spend our "socialization trip" with K at her crèche. Fortunately they were able to push it out one week, or we would have literally had one week's notice to get everything in order and get on a plane. We have chosen not to bring E with us on this trip, as we think the length of time away from her routine could be a bit disruptive for her right now.  

While we'll be there to spend time with and get to know K, we will play with her and other kids in the crèche, and potentially lend a hand around the facilities, if possible. We'll also spend some time with the crèche directors, to connect with them and see if they may know more about K's background. (We learned that one of the directors is a big whiskey man, and J is looking forward to bringing him a small bottle as a gift!) We're planning to pack large portions of our suitcase with toys and books to play with and leave at the crèche, as well as other items to donate.

After the two weeks is up, we will fly home, without K. This is painful to think about, but is part of the Haitian adoption process (not every country does this). After we arrive home, we file more paperwork, essentially asking the US to designate K as a "relative", so that she can enter the US, and informing Haiti that we are indeed agreeing to adopt K. We will then move back into the waiting phase, relying on two disparate governments to complete their work. I'm sure it will go smoothly and quickly (joke)

There are quite a few paperwork checkpoints for us to get through. Once all of these are complete, we'll be allowed to fly back, pick K up, and bring her home. There is no specific time frame that we can expect for this, but it appears to be taking about 6 months to a year for most families.

A few reality checks

While our upcoming trip is called a "socialization" trip, we've been cautioned that the time we spend with K may be limited, and/or challenging. While we have been dreaming of her regularly, to her we are strangers. It will likely take time for her to warm up to us (one family we talked to shared that their little girl wouldn't make eye contact or smile until four days into their trip). In addition, we cannot realistically attach and bond with her in this short amount of time, nor would it be fair to her to expect this, when we know we will be leaving her again for some time.

After our socialization trip, we can go back to Haiti as often as we'd like to visit K. I'm not sure yet if we will be able to (more plane tickets, more time off work, and we would need to arrange our own lodging and transportation), but it's comforting to know that it is an option. (Prior to the referral/match, we aren't allowed to donate funds or go to the creche, as it could appear to be bribery.)

Many of you have asked what we can share about K. Until our adoption is final, we are not allowed to publicly share information about K (aka, post on social media). This includes posting identifying pictures of her, information about her crèche, or her full name (hence why we're using her first initial). While in Haiti, we will be able to take pictures and video to our heart's content. And you best believe we will!

What you can do

Pray and/or send all the good vibes our way. Neither of us have ever been on a trip to one place for so long, and we are feeling apprehensive about the time away from home, and the many unknown factors of what to expect while we're in country.

Learn more about Haiti! Google will serve you just fine in this effort. If you are a podcast fiend like myself and would like to understand the history of the country, check out the Revolutions podcast, and find the "4" series (4.0-4.19) to hear the riveting story of the Haitian revolution.

Brush up on your Haitian Creole. Justin and I are working on learning some of the building blocks of the language, but I'll admit that I'm feeling really challenged in this. Not only is this important for us to learn more of and respect her culture and heritage, but we don't expect that K will known much/any English. When she does come home with us, being able to share her mother language will be extremely beneficial for communication and learning.

On to the next stage of our adventure...

Renmen (love), J & J

Waiting for Referral: One Year

One year ago today we entered IBESR, meaning we officially became "referral ready".  I was putting off writing this post in the hopes that we would beat the anniversary, and receive a referral before today. Alas, that was not meant to be.  

Here's why we were really hoping to have more news to share today. Two weeks ago, we received the following email from our agency:

Hello, Jordan and Justin:

If you remember, there was a delay in K's case, because of the birth father considering parenting her.   However, it seems that she is now legally available for adoption.  I asked the creche for an update on her case, and got an email from them today saying that her dossier is now complete – it has been submitted to IBESR with a request for match with your family.  (IBESR has had our request for that match for quite a while now, and now they have our creche's request and the child’s dossier, too.)

So, keeping my fingers crossed that they’ll approve the match! 

As you know, things are slow and unpredictable in Haiti… so, both the family’s and child’s dossiers can be 100% ready for referral, and still wait for months, if not longer, due to many issues unrelated to the dossiers.  Still, I am becoming more and more excited now that I have recently had two match requests approved and the families are in Haiti, as we speak, for their socialization trips! 

I’ll keep you posted. 

-M

Cue the happy dance! 
We haven't heard anything further since this, and are eagerly waiting/praying/holding our breath. K turns two in just a couple of months (November), and it would bring me no greater joy than to get to hold her in my arms to celebrate her birthday with her.

In the meantime, we're working hard to stay afloat in all of the other areas of our life. Work has been insane for both of us, and it has felt like we're working two jobs: our corporate jobs in the day and then coming home and putting all of our (remaining) brain power and elbow grease into getting our house on the market and searching for our next home. We have accepted an offer (our second, actually, but that's a story for another time) and have found a couple of homes that would be amazing for our little family. But, this has proved to be quite a challenging process (take your pick of metaphors: a roller coaster, a crazy game, a fragile web...) It's also time to gear up for REACH camp, where I'll again be volunteering in the camp director role. It is a lot of prep work, but my most favorite time of year.  Oh, and Eisley will be moving to a new daycare next month (under our office at work; it will be amazing to have her so close). So, you know, not a lot going on here. ;)

In some ways, I think that being this busy is a good distraction from this long wait, because when I pause for too long, I can get mired down in frustration and sadness. To balance this, I am trying to more regularly express gratitude for the abundance of good in our lives.  So, thank you to each of you for your ongoing support, patience, and kindness.  

Breathing and Living Life

Well, my personal goal of writing at least once a month has slipped by me, but I'll work harder on this. Life just moves too quickly these days.
Regardless, we don't have any specific adoption updates to share, but I'm jotting down a couple of things going on in our life right now. 

First: Justin and I just returned from six days in New York City. We are equal parts refreshed and exhausted, but I feel so grateful that we were able to go. (Why is it that you always seem to need a vacation after a vacation?) 

We love to travel. If I were to boil it down, I would say that one of the main reasons I work my butt off is to support my family and our future, and to travel. In 2009, not long after we were married, Justin and I took our first trip to New York City and fell head over heels for the city. We are both suburb-born-and-raised, but are drawn to the bustle, walkability, and culture of a metropolitan life. We call NYC our "second home", and often daydream of our retirement plans, which typically includes owning a home or renting long-term properties in various areas across the City. Since that first trip, we've gone back about every other year, but put this on pause when I got pregnant. When we began the adoption journey, 16 months after Eisley was born, we decided to pause any "major" life choices (or, I should say, any MORE major life choices).

And here we are: 19 months since the start of this journey, 10 months into the "referral-ready" phase. We don't know if baby K will be referred to us any time soon, or at all. Things still appear to be moving for others in Haiti, although at molasses speed. In many ways it feels as though we're holding our breath. So, we decided to plan a trip, and breathe for a minute. We are blessed to have two sets of grandparents nearby who willingly/lovingly took Eisley for the week, so it was just the two of us. It was an incredible trip filled with sunshine, music, walking, and reconnecting as a couple. Oh, and so. much. good. food.

Second: We've decided to sell our house and move.

When we bought our home in 2008 we were young, newly married, and had no idea what our future truly held. We knew that we wanted kids and that we wanted to live closer to Seattle. Now that we are raising one child and preparing for another, the itch to be in the city has become stronger. Many of our friends (nearly all of our friends with kids) live in Seattle. We work in Seattle. Eisley's fabulous school is in Seattle. We find ourselves driving there most weekends for activities, and we are oh-so-tired of this commute. But, as we worked to complete our home study, we made the decision not to move until after the adoption finalized and our little girl had been home for some time, so as to create the least amount of unnecessary transition for her. We know that our schools nearby are well-rated and fairly diverse, but our neighborhood and community is not very diverse. Our daughter needs (deserves) access to racial mirrors.**

We again began kicking around the idea of moving earlier this year, quickly talking ourselves out of it because of all of the work it would take, and because of the sheer craziness of choosing to buy a house in one of the hottest and most expensive markets in the country right now. And honestly, there's something in my brain that has said "If you just stay put for one more minute...one more week...one more month...your referral will come through." I know this is unrealistic (superstition?), but it is part of what's been helping me feel tethered. Either way, I am working to breathe, let this go (and let God), and keep living a full life. To cap this off, we were also both blessed in crazy and unexpected ways at work this year, and so we decided to take the plunge. 

Moving will mean redoing part of our home study (paperwork and fees, which our agency ensured us is not totally abnormal), and investing a ton of work into packing/selling/buying in an insane market. We have honed in on a couple of key neighborhoods (Beacon Hill and West Seattle), met with our real estate agent, secured a mortgage provider, and begun the process of packing and purging and cleaning. We have discussed contingency plans for what to do if we sell, but cannot quickly buy (a distinct possibility). I have spent hours poring over neighborhood blogs, maps, and school reviews. I am crazy stressed about this (because, yes, it is crazy), but know that we are doing the right thing for our family.  
To close this train of thought out, I'll note that this was even more clear to me after our time in NYC. Walking the streets, we were surrounded by a plethora of people, languages, cultures...It was a dream. We even looked up Haitian restaurants and had multiple options to choose from! 
[See earlier note of "so. much. good. food." We had a delicious lunch: me, a plate of legumes and diri ak pwa (vegetables with red beans and rice), and Justin, poulet creole (chicken stew). We both tried a good dose of pikliz on our meal, too (a spicy cabbage/vinegar condiment, often made with scotch bonnet peppers). I'll be building my heat tolerance for that!]

So, if you have an interest in cleaning carpets and roofs, running countless loads of donations to Goodwill, or are an expert at carefully piling items into boxes, your services are welcome! 

N a we pita! (See you later!)

-------------------

**Additional, important thoughts about racial mirrors:

Mirrors for my Daughter's Bookshelf

Having Just One Black Teacher Can Keep Black Kids In School 

From "The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl" by Issa Rae: "You guys know about vampires?" Diaz asked. "You know, vampires have no reflections in a mirror? There's this idea that monsters don't have reflections in a mirror. And what I've always thought isn't that monsters don't have reflections in a mirror. It's that if you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves. And growing up, I felt like a monster in some ways. I didn't see myself reflected at all. I was like, "Yo, is something wrong with me? That the whole society seems to think that people like me don't exist? And part of what inspired me, was this deep desire that before I died, I would make a couple of mirrors. That I would make some mirrors so that kids like me might seem themselves reflected back and might not feel so monstrous for it." 

Still Waiting

Hi friends, I know it’s been since the holidays that I’ve posted an update, and many of you have kindly checked in to see how things have been going. In a word, they haven’t, but we know that is pretty much par for the course at this stage, and we are trying hard to remain patient and positive.

Over the last couple of months, we’ve heard scattered reports about how things are generally going in Haiti, and also had a very brief “non-update” from our agency, so I thought I’d at least share those highlights.

On 1/13, I received an email from our program manager asking if we could connect. She called us after work, when Justin and I were enjoying a mini Friday date-night (happy hour beer and plate of pickle chips) before picking E up from my in-laws. He took the call in the hallway away from the din of the restaurant, and I sat a bit paralyzed at the table, staring out the window. Since I couldn’t see Justin to read his body language during the conversation, I just sat there fretting and holding in tears—it could be good news (the referral?) or bad news (officially “losing” K?). Turns out it wasn’t really either. Our program manager knew that we hadn’t heard anything in some time, and wanted to pass along a brief update that she had heard from the crèche. 

When we were first presented with K’s information in November, details about her were scant.  Recently, her dad has begun voicing his discontent that K is to be adopted. However, he has not done anything to take action against this, such as stepping forward to say he will raise her. Our program manager let us know that this is not unusual, and may not ultimately impact anything. He could fade away again, or he could choose to step up and take care of his daughter (or other relatives could choose to do so). We can’t know what will happen around this, and I initially felt more angst than appreciation at receiving this update. However, in the end, I believe that a child should have a family, and in many cases, I recognize that biological family is preferable. If bio-family is able to step up and care for K, providing the unconditional love and guidance and support that she so desperately deserves, then my heart will be well. Either way, I'm vacillating between feelings. On one hand, I'm frustrated that things aren't moving for K--she is missing out on precious time with her family, even if that is not us. (For perspective, K was just about to turn one-year old when we first learned of her, and she is now 16 months old.) On the other hand, the busyness of our day-to-day provides a welcome distraction, and Eisley's growth and development is incredible and keeps us on our toes. 

In this conversation, we also learned that the other family (mentioned in my last couple of posts—they were also seeking a referral for K, were “chosen” ahead of us, and then pulled out of it because another referral was apparently already in the works for them) did not end up receiving a referral. This may have occurred because of first seeking K, but is unclear. My heart aches for them.

One thing we’ve been learning to navigate through this process is that intel about what’s happening on the ground in Haiti is hard to come by and hard to validate. While our program manager provides updates as she has them, they are often sparse. To fill in some of these gaps, families in our social media support groups will post what they’ve heard, and I’m so grateful for these connections. I’ve begun to rely on these virtual friends for updates; I often hear from them first when things have stopped or started in Haiti.

With that, we’ve picked up some good tidbits over the last few months. Here are a few key notes: 

• One of the reasons things have been particularly quiet lately is because IBESR has been experiencing infrastructure issues. It appears that there have been periods of time when their printers and copiers were not working, electricity was spotty, and/or the generator was not functioning well. This makes me realize how much we take our modern, first-world amenities for granted. Something as “simple” as a printer going down halted movement for countless children and families. Judging by our social media groups, it looks like some of these issues may be resolved now; some families are reporting receiving their referral, embarking on bonding trips, and even moving into the final stages of their child’s adoption. Praise!
• It appears that more staff is being added to support (and speed up) the matching/referral process. IBESR has stated that they are working to implement procedures this year so that a family’s dossier should only sit with IBESR for 6 months and at the judicial phase for 6 months, meaning that hopefully matches will occur and move forward within a year. (Apparently this was an intention shared when Haiti transitioned to Hague, but is being reaffirmed!) This is incredible news for those of us waiting (and waiting, and waiting). There is still a backlog of families waiting for referrals (some waiting since 2014), and it sounds like the focus is to get these completed first.
• IBSER will continue to meet throughout the year with agency representatives and crèches, to hear concerns and ensure procedures are being followed. I’m hopeful that this will keep the doors of communication open, aiding in the flow of accurate and timely information, and may help to put emphasis and spotlight on the pain-points in this process that could be improved. (Here is where my process-improver brain goes into hyper drive. Evaluate resource needs! Streamline steps! Document for continuity and consistency! Set and communicate expectations! Obviously, that is me trying to control the uncontrollable, and is embarrassingly oversimplifying things with which I have but only a small window into. Not to mention my bias… J I do trust that those working on this are the right, skilled people, representing both the child and the family’s best interests. /end moment)

I think that’s all for now! This “non-update” turned out a bit longer than I anticipated—par for my style of writing and talking, I suppose. Love and hugs to you and yours.

Baby Girl K

Around Thanksgiving, a little flurry of movement cropped up, and we were holding our breath while working through paperwork with our agency. We thought that we would soon have some exciting news to share, but now I regret not writing about that in the moment, because it has now been tempered by a more recent reality. 

Okay, let me back up a bit. 

If you recall last time I wrote, we were attempting to seek a referral for a little girl on a Waiting Children list. For ease of following in this post, I'll call her "K". Instead, another family was chosen to be presented as her match, and we were greatly saddened. It felt like a loss before we'd even had a chance. On the other hand, we were so happy for the other family, and for K. Complex feelings, yo. 

I also want to pause and thank our friends and family who have been so kind to us as we have processed our thoughts, complained, and cried. Part of me wonders what it is like to watch us swing through these emotions over and over, as the time passes painfully slowly. I imagine it is tiresome. There will be happiness to share too! We are grateful to you for you sticking by us.

So, two days before Thanksgiving, we received our agency's bi-monthly Haiti program email. In it, there was mention of two more little girls on the Waiting Children list that we wanted to learn more about. I shot an email off to our program manager, and tried to just put it out of my head, so as not to start to get my hopes up again. 

The response came back very quickly: "You've been on my to-do list...K is available for adoption again. Are you still interested in adopting her?"  My heart started racing and I couldn't get ahold of Justin fast enough to let him know of the update. Of course we were still interested! 

It turned out that after the other family was presented as a potential match for K, they learned that IBESR was already working on a referral for them. (This is fantastic for them, by the way. What a Thanksgiving blessing!) Once I confirmed that we wanted to pursue K again (YES! YES, 100 TIMES OVER!) our agency sent us two new pictures of K from their recent trip to Haiti. Here was a sweet, chubby little girl, with gleaming eyes and a gorgeous (very grumpy) pout. She was clothed in purple striped pajamas, propped on a small chair, giving the camera a very serious face. 

The next couple of weeks we set to work updating our home study and I800. If anything substantial in your family life changes (you move, you have a child, etc.), or if you make any changes to the characteristics of the child you're seeking to adopt (from one child to multiple; updating the age or gender requested; a change in medical conditions, etc.), you must update these documents. Essentially, they officially tell the involved government agencies of the changes in your life. It can be time consuming and is costly. (Surprise!) Fortunately, we only needed to make a small tweak to our home study, to capture K's medical condition, and our agency was able to help us update it without another home visit (which would incur a higher cost). This small grace took a big stress off of us. 

While waiting for our home study update to be completed, I waited (impatiently) to hear about next steps. After about a week, I reached out to the program manager to ask for an update. We anticipated it would take some time to hear back on the official referral, but I was hoping to get an idea of what that might look like. She quickly responded, stating our home study update was done and had already been submitted (hooray!) and also asked that we give her a call (that's never good).

I'll admit that any time we are asked to do something, I try to jump on it at top speed. My brain says "Hey! There's pretty much nothing controllable in this process. But this is a task assigned to you right now. So get it done! Don't  be the one holding things up!" I was in back-to-back meetings at work that day, so I asked Justin to give her a call. On the drive home that afternoon, he filled me in: things were not as we expected and we have hit another hurdle. We may not get K's referral. 

Feels like deja vu, eh? The same anticipation and similar dashed hopes. And here I'd thought I'd been guarding my heart better this time around.

To explain why this is happening, I feel I ought to add a short preface before continuing. Things in Haiti are ever-changing and I can't pretend to fully understand what is occurring between the creches and IBESR right now. What I do know is that there is a rift that they are working through. I'm piecing together what our agency reported to us, what I can find online, and what others are sharing in our online Haitian adoption group.

To clarify the "normal process" to match a child and family in Haiti:

• A child has to be"referral-ready", with their own completed dossier. As I understand it, this is often prepared by the creche the child is living in. This means a lot of document gathering and time spent. So, while we were working on our dossier, it's very likely our daughter's was being worked on too. 
• The creche also has a relationship with an adoption agency (or agencies) and may review the dossiers of families submitted by the agencies for potential matches to children in their facility. (This process has been explained in a few ways, and it's still frankly a bit muddy to me. I think that what I'm bulleting here is more applicable to Waiting Children, but I'm not 100% sure.) If the creche believes we're a suitable match, they might submit our dossier and her dossier to IBESR for review.
• IBESR, which acts as Haiti's Social Services or centralized authority for adoptions, is the government entity which reviews the dossiers and is the ultimate determiner of matches. 
• If IBESR agrees to the match, we receive word of an official referral. After this point, we will travel to Haiti for our two-week bonding/socialization trip, and this kicks off the long legalization process and eventual homecoming. There are many more steps to that, and we'll share more as we eventually work through them. 

There isn't currently a specific "Waiting Children" process in Haiti, as there are in some other countries. But, knowing that these children are in unique situations, our agency was anticipating that once the creche had agreed that we should be matched with K (which they felt pretty good about), it would be as "simple" (heh) as the creche presenting our dossier to IBESR, and IBESR confirming us as an official match with K. Then we'd be off to the races! It turns out, though, that there has been some contention building between IBESR and the creches across Haiti lately, for a variety of reasons related to the implementation of the Hague convention (and probably related to fees). As a consequence, many creches appear to be choosing to hold off on submitting dossiers to IBESR right now, or at least slowing it down substantially. If this is true, that means that families may not be matched with their children, and we may not be matched with K. 

Bumps along the way are expected as Haiti transitions into the Hague convention. When we started, were told in no uncertain terms that we would be guinea pigs as things were learned, adjusted, and stabilized. We agreed to this because we knew that our daughter was in Haiti. We will do what it takes. No one knew what the challenges would actually look like, but this was surely not what I had expected. The match with K is not truly off the table, but at this point we don't feel confident that it will come through quickly, if at all. I'll admit that I was holding out a little bit of hope for a Christmas miracle, but instead we'll hold an extra candle at Christmas Eve service this year, for K and for the other families marching along this journey. 

Love and hugs to you and your loved ones this season.

A Steep Drop Down the Roller Coaster

This has been a trying week.

I recognize that this is true for many right now, and I am personally still processing the impact of the presidential election on my family, friends, and this great nation. I am praying and trying to work through what we can do as individuals to be positively productive, loving, and impact change. 

And while this is relevant to our adoption, this is not a post-election post.
Instead, I want to share an update about the roller coaster ride we have been on over the last week. We chose not to speak about it with our family and friends while it was happening, because if there is one thing we have learned over the last year, it's that the adoption process is delicate and unpredictable. There were just too many unknowns at the time to feel comfortable sharing it. In the end, I think that was the right choice, as it allowed us to process each step privately as a couple, and to reflect and learn along the way.

Last week, Justin and I were fortunate enough to spend a long weekend away together. I surprised him with a trip to Boston, without Eisley, and we had a fabulous time. Highlights include: eating way too much (cannoli! lobster rolls! seafood, oh my!), enjoying a local craft-beer festival, and exploring the Museum of Fine Arts during a unique overnight event (which included the honor of hearing Madeleine Albright speak. She is a witty, amazing spitfire).  We reconnected as a couple and celebrated our eighth anniversary a bit early (it was on 11/9). We're so grateful to our families who took care of E while we were away; so thankful that you gave us the time and love her as much as we do.

Two days into our trip, while fighting the crowd at the beer festival, we received the bi-weekly email that WACAP's Haiti Program Manager sends to the families adopting from Haiti. I look forward to opening these each time they arrive; it's like unwrapping a small gift. They’re usually brief and include updates on families in the program and resources pertinent to adoption. Each time I read one, I feel closer to the children in the crèche and the other families also waiting for their family to grow. Since this process is so slow, I try to savor the emails and tuck away a bit of warmth each time.

This particular email included something I hadn’t seen before: a note about a few “waiting children” who were ready for a referral, but had not yet been matched with an available family.

A quick pause for context: a "waiting child" is a child who is "harder to place". This is typically due to a medical condition, "older" age (~6+), or because the child is part of a set or group of siblings to be adopted together. Also, these medical conditions tend to be defined differently in the adoption world than you may define it-- another topic for another time.

In this list was a child that caught my eye: an 11 month old girl with a medical condition that we know a bit about, but not much. I showed the email to Justin and both of our interests were piqued. I sent an email back to ask how we could obtain more information about her. We carried on with the day, heading off to get dinner.

We're buckled in on the roller coaster now. Here begins the slow tick-tick-tick upwards.

Later that evening, in the middle of wandering through the museum, we received an email that contained some basic medical details and family history, and one snapshot of a serious and sweet little girl. The picture was just a head shot; she clearly wasn't ready for the picture, and was clothed in a checkered shirt that was too big for her. She had glowing ebony skin and the most striking and bright eyes. (For confidentiality reasons, we can't share the specific identifying details or picture of her.) Also included was a stark caution from the program manager that if we chose to pursue her, there was no guarantee that we would get an official referral for her, as other families may also come forward for her. 

Now, I like to think that we're fairly pragmatic people, and we understood this caution. But here in the midst of hundreds of party-goers, I was completely drawn to her, and couldn't stop thinking about this little girl potentially coming home to us. For our remaining days in Boston, we slowly peeled back the lid of this hope together, and I sorted through my feelings. Sadness for the circumstances that led to her placement in the orphanage. Excitement at the potential. Anxiety as I got ahead of myself and began thinking through logistics.

Tick-tick-tick...nearing the top of the first hill...

Next steps included me relentlessly reading about her medical condition (not a recommended step in the adoption process) and applying for a medical consultation to better understand the scant medical information we'd received (a highly recommended step in adoption process). We are extremely fortunate to live close to the UW Center for Adoption Medicine and quickly scheduled an appointment. Later in the week, we had a long and detailed conversation with an incredibly kind and patient doctor. When we hung up, we both felt more prepared to parent this beautiful girl and I emailed the program manager to confirm "YES, we are seeking a referral." (Underlying sentiment: Please, please, pleeease tell us this will go the way we hope!)

She responded confirming that it looked like another family may also register their interest. She mentioned that they'd been in the program longer than us, so they may be closer to a "regular" referral, and might choose to wait for that. Another agonizing day passed, and I was thinking that another family couldn't possibly come forward; this is our girl. I kept turning her name over and over in my mind. Her last name is a name that is in my family; this must be a sign, right? Her birthday falls on Thanksgiving this year; another sign? I was searching.

The next day brought news that the other family had officially asked to be included as a potential referral. My heart dipped a little. The agency would present both of our files to their social services team, who would then decide which to forward to the crèche. We waited some more.

The following evening, something spurred me to check my phone as I went to bed. The email had arrived: both families were great, both were sent to the crèche for review. The crèche picked the other family. She was not to become our little girl.  

Here was the downhill drop; fast and furious and upsetting.

The last loop-de-loops this week were through a wide range of emotions: disappointment, sadness, and grief, but also extreme joy that this girl had found her family and these parents had found their daughter. In the end, this is what matters. I pray that the referral occurs quickly and that the rest of the process goes smoothly for them. 

So, we'll just keep ticking along, continuing to wait. In reality, we know that a referral doesn't seem to occur until ~12-18 months after entering IBESR, and we've only been in IBESR for 3 months. Based on what we learned from this experience, we're discussing potentially updating our homestudy a bit, in regards to medical conditions.  But, it looks like we have some more time ahead of us to endure the peaks and dips of this ride.

Hurricane Matthew

This has been a rough week. Hurricane Matthew slowly tore its way across Haiti, other parts of the Caribbean, and is now making its way towards Florida.
I've rewritten this post a few times now, because I've been struggling with articulating. So, here goes. 

How I've been feeling: 
I've been on a bit of an emotional roller coaster: I watched in horror as the predictions of the storm's path and impact were broadcast. My anxiety spiked as the storm shifted and seemed to be aiming straight-on for Haiti. I cried thinking of our child, and the fear she may have been feeling. The confusion or anxiety she may have experienced, watching her parents or caretakers prep and plan for safety. My heart broke for a land desperately unprepared for this kind of impact. For the people, who've had enough of this to last a million lifetimes. I prayed fiercely for the storm to slow and move. I prayed for safety of the country and the people. For her safety. And we waited. I have never felt so helpless, knowing that from afar there was nothing tangible that I could do. 

What's happened: 
Not being in Haiti myself, I can only share what I have read and followed through sources in-country that I believe are reputable. The following is a recap of what I have gathered.

First, some quick context: Haiti is often described as the poorest country in the Western hemisphere. There are still many areas rebuilding from the devastating 2010 earthquake, and some that will never be the same. Much of the terrain has been deforested, largely due to energy needs, which can create instability in the land, and greatly increases the risk of mudslides following high rains. I say this to illustrate that the infrastructure and terrain across the country cannot handle much in its current state. 
(To balance this, know that Haiti is also the world's first independent blac republic and was the second nation to earn independence in the Western hemisphere. This is a strong and brave country, capable of much.)

Hurricane Matthew, a category 4 (on a scale of 5 being the worst) moved over the country (which is about the size of Massachusetts, for scale) at an agonizingly slow pace, with winds of over 130 mph. There has been massive damage to some areas of the country--largely the South and the North. Reports are still being vetted, but there may be hundreds dead. And now that the storm has moved on, there is concern of flooding, catastrophic mudslides, and disease. The country has been fighting a cholera outbreak for years, likely imported by aid workers during the earthquake clean-up and spread through contaminated water. It is entirely possible that the standing water from the storm could exacerbate this.

I do believe that our prayers were heard. It appears that some parts of the countries experienced less devastation than expected. It appears that Port-au-Prince, the capital, is standing. We haven't yet heard any official reports from the Embassy, but the hope is that it is okay (and therefore, hopefully all of the adoption-related paperwork that so many families have poured their blood/sweat/tears into is okay). 
We learned today that our orphanage Fondation Enfant Jesus (FEJ) reported that all children and staff are safe. However, toppled trees and severe flooding caused major damage to structures and the health clinic. Temporary shelter is in place, but the flooding needs to stop and rebuilding must occur to get them back to the safe space they were previously in. All this to say that there is still much that we do not know, and we will continue to wait for news on what this might mean for adoptions--for other families, and for us. 

What you can do: 
If you are looking for ways to help Haiti, please think about contributing directly to organizations that already exist in the country. Large NGO's and organizations newly forming after the Hurricane often have high overhead and/or little transparency into where funds actually go. Here is a reputable page outlining various agencies inside of Haiti.  Also, here is a link to FEJ, our orphanage.
Don't buy a plane ticket and fly there to rebuild. This takes jobs away from the very capable hands of Haitian residents. (i.e., Why pay someone to do work, when this foreign volunteer will do it for free!) 
Don't buy supplies and send them to Haiti. Instead, consider sending funds to allow supplies to be bought in-country, contributing to the local economy and small businesses.

A last note to leave you with:  
Please, practice healthy skepticism when consuming media.
Pre-storm, some news sources were broadcasting images of Jamaica and calling it Haiti (and vice versa). Some news sources were showing historical footage of Haiti, such as from the 2010 earthquake. A newscaster at the Weather Channel stated that part of the reason that the country is so devoid of trees is because Haitians sometimes resort to eating them. (Uh, what? No.) Even an image that I saw after the storm of a child "stuck in a flooded alley" turned out to be a child playing in a ditch, unharmed. 
I don't say all of this to take away from the truth: life and communities have vanished. People have lost their belongings, their homes, everything. So much loss.
This was a horrific catastrophe. 
Media is important in keeping informed. However, it's important to be aware of when media is reporting flippantly (or too quickly, trying to be "first on the scene), or is relying on "click bait" tactics to draw in an audience. Try to seek out resources as close to the scene as possible, whenever possible. We've been fortunate to find good resources on social media, of missionaries and citizens who have been continued to share updates from their family, friends, and contacts living across the country.