guess who’s on the way home?
Ernest and Ronel! I am so happy for their family. Hop on over to Debra's blog - I'm sure she will be posting photos soon.I have to admit, I have not understood the appeal of Twitter since it started. I am seeing the light. Reading Ernest's tweets from the last week at the embassy and then up to today was like watching a high-speed car chase. But more emotional and exciting. Even today, my heart was racing as they had to run to catch their plane to make it home to mama tonight. Refresh, . . .
unbelievable
Ronel still waits. His dad has a cell phone, and has been texting to his twitter account, but the US embassy staff just threatened to confiscate cell phones. Perhaps they don't want this story being told? This is their 7th night sleeping at the embassy. There is a group of 60 adoptive parents and children who have been lied to and ignored for days. They were told their papers to leave were signed. They were shown the papers. They were told they just had to secure their own plane. . . .
a comment worth repeating
Someone left a comment today that I think is worthy of its own post. The writer is of Haitian descent. I appreciate this perspective so much and I think it is an important one to consider for anyone in the adoption process:The debate over Haitian adoption is not new. There are differing points of view and many considerations. The children have an immediate need for food, shelter, and security. But what happens when someone adopts a child of another culture to "rescue" that child because s/he . . .
Why We Need UNICEF
An update on Ronel - they are still at the embassy. They are sleeping again on the cold tile floor. The good news is that they have received humanitarian parole and I believe it was only by Ernest's sheer determination and willingness to fight for their son. It should not have been that hard. They are now waiting to find a plane to fly out, because word on the street is the military is no longer offering evacuation flights for orphans. When he asked why, Ernest was told it was because of . . .
aftershocks
I don't have a lot of photos from my last trip to Haiti. I arrived on Monday afternoon, and the earthquake happened the next day. After the earthquake, I stopped taking pictures. I kind of stopped functioning altogether. My memory of those few days is already hazy. I really can't remember much except the fear. I have no idea how I managed to care for a baby, or for Kembert for that matter, in the midst of it. I tend to retreat and get very stoic when I'm stressed. On the outside, I might . . .
prayers for Ronel
My heart is heavy tonight for the adoptive parents who are still waiting to get their children home from Haiti, and for the children who wait in the balance. Since we got Kembert out last week, things have changed dramatically. On January 18th, the US government announced it was granting humanitarian parole for orphans already in the process of adoption. This made perfect sense: these children were shown to be eligible for adoption prior to the earthquake. The Haitian and US government go . . .
degaje
In Haitian Creole, there is a word called "degaje", which basically means to "make it work". We are in serious degaje mode right now. I have always scoffed at the idea that there is any manual that can teach how a mother how to do things the right way. When you are parenting four small children, one of them who speaks another language, there is NO MANUAL. We don't know what the heck we are doing.Our house is pretty much in chaos mode, and the inmates seem to be running the asylum. All . . .
I’ve got a feeling . . .
that tonight's gonna be a good night.that tonight's gonna be a GOOD GOOD night. . . .
from one orphan to another . . .
No word so far today. I am living in a sort of Groundhog's Day. Wake up. Check email. Ignore kids. Hit refresh. Hope for tomorrow. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. . . .
like the end of pregnancy. but less bloating.
I feel like I am nine months pregnant today. I am moody and irritable. I am barely sleeping. I am nesting like crazy, and so, so anxious for our little one to get here.Sometimes I feel like I'm handling this wait with grace. And other times . . . not so much. Like today, when I decided that I had to remodel the boys' room before Keanan gets home. (Did I really just say "boys' room"? As in plural? Wow. That feels weird.) I tried to patch some of the pain on the walls, only to use the . . .
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