Haiti Second Adoption Trip Journal (4/2/13-4/7/13): Bonding Time

Thursday morning, we woke up and walked to the resort’s open-air restaurant for breakfast. Coffee, mango juice, pancakes, fruit and (my favorite!) an omelet station. After breakfast, we went back to our bungalow and the girls did some schoolwork and played on the beach while I finished getting dressed.

Impromptu photo shoot.  Our littles are NOT camera shy!
These were taken on the steps of our bungalow. 
Look at the view and how close we were to the ocean!  Loved sleeping to sound of waves crashing!

Once we were ready for the day, we bought some bottles of water and walked up to the children’s village. The girls were delighted by the goats, cows, pigs, chickens and other livestock wandering along the road.  When D and I traveled back in November, we went up to the village twice a day to play with the boys out on the playground. We’d spend a couple hours there in the morning, head back to the resort while the boys had lunch and napped in their cottage, then we'd walk back up to the village for a couple more hours of play before dinner. We were expecting a similar routine on this trip.  Boy, were we in for a surprise! 

We arrived at the village and stopped by the office to let the staff know we were there. D and the girls chatted with Supreme while Beverly and I walked to the boys’ cottage to pick them up for our playdate. J was finishing up his breakfast bottle and HM was dressed and ready for fun. I thought we were just taking the boys over to the playground. . . when Beverly handed me a packed diaper bag and suggested we take them back to the hotel for bonding! Just have them back around 4 or 5 o’clock, she advised.

Wow. As excited as I was about the idea of having the boys with us all day, I admit I was also a little nervous about D and me suddenly having full responsibility for 5 little ones. I didn’t know how the boys would react being out of their familiar surroundings and people. Would the language barrier with HM be a problem? Would we stay in the room (probably not since the power was off during the day and it was HOT!) or would we be brave enough to take them all to the beach or pool? We'd have to navigate these things by the seat of our pants, as the next thing we knew we were escorted to the gate and walking back to the resort with three little girls and two little boys in tow!

This was pretty much the routine Thursday, Friday and Saturday. We swam in the pool, had picnics in a shady, grassy area near the beach, blew bubbles, played with machinas and kicked the soccer ball. We’d managed to tuck some of the boys’ unopened Christmas presents into our suitcases and HM was thrilled to open gifts from Uncle Brian (machinas! his favorite!) and Gabby (a Colorado t-shirt that he immediately wanted to wear!).

Our time at the resort with all our littles was crazy and chaotic and completely wonderful.

Bubbles!

A few notes about our precious HM. . .

Anytime we had drinks or snacks, he made sure J and everyone else was served before he would partake. He enjoyed being the one to hand out cookies or rice crispy treats or bottles of water.

He’s very protective of and loving toward J.

He called D Papa and me Manman. Oh, melt my heart! 

He reached up his arms and asked us to hold him when he was anxious or tired or scared. He was NOT a fan of the goats, cows, pigs, chickens and other livestock wandering along the road! 

He quickly learned the girls' names and used them.

He liked everyone to be together and would go looking for anyone who slipped out of the crowd.

He LOVES machinas, cameras, sunglasses, chapos, sweets and soft drinks!

He has NO fear of water.  As soon as we walked up to the pool, he broke into a run and jumped in (in an area over his head).  D threw down the towels and stuff he was holding and took off right behind him--catching him just as they were hitting the water.  This was so unnerving as I'm such a huge worry-wart when it comes to kids and water.  Swimming lessons will be on the agenda as soon as practicable after our cocooning period.  He didn’t want to wear floaties but enjoyed splashing around in the shallow end (especially splashing Papa and getting a big reaction) and being held by us when it was over his head.

He expressed his objections with a cute little pouty lip and frowny face. . . and if he really didn't like something, by throwing his flip-flops.

He’s talkative and inquisitive and has the sweetest little singing voice. We wished we spoke kreyol, because it would have been so helpful to explain all of the new things we were seeing and doing and set his expectations about what was to follow. I’m sure it was frustrating for him to not have us answering the questions he was asking, yet was courageous and trusting enough to go along.  Bless his heart.

He likes to be funny and make his sisters laugh. He did a silly little dance in our room and I said something like “shake that booty, HM!” The girls laughed and he just ate up the attention. From then on, at random times, he would dance and shake his hips and say “shake that booty!” His first English phrase.

Everybody Splash Papa!

A few notes about our sweet J. . .

He’s too adorable for words.

He has the cutest little grin. Perfect little tiny white teeth.  A big smile spreads across his face when he realizes someone is talking to or about him.

He’s so chunky and healthy-looking. Love the arm and thigh rolls.

His hair is growing into an awesome little fro-hawk. He rocks it!  And reminded us of a little Mr. T impersonator when he put on a scowly face.           

He’s a content, happy, laid-back little guy.

J also loved the pool. It was so hot outside and the water was cool but not cold. It was refreshing!  J seemed to think it was the best thing ever. He would slap his hand down on the surface and giggle whenever the water would splash up on us.

He loves to be held and carried and did not want Mama to put him down.  We still haven't seen the "crawling with great speed" mentioned in our last update. 

Futbol!

A few notes about our supergirls. . .

They were so patient with HM and so nurturing toward J. They impressed us with their willingness to put the boys before themselves at every opportunity (not sure this will be the case once they're home and the honeymoon is over, but it filled my heart and helped them really connect with the boys on this trip).

I loved that our big girls got to experience being in the minority. We make an effort to include a lot of diversity in our lives, friendships and daily interactions but for the most part, people of color are a minority in our girls’ world. I want them to grow up with an understanding that this is something particular to the area where we live but not representative of the composition of the world at large, if that makes sense.

K noticed that most everyone we saw in Haiti was black. One time I asked her “What do you think about Haiti?” and she answered “there’s lotsa brown peeps.”  "Is that awesome?," I asked, and she said "Yep. I like Haiti!" 

K has the kind of personality that’s as big as any room she’s in. She’s so expressive, animated, articulate and adorable that she attracts attention wherever she goes. Many of the Haitians we encountered thought she was Haitian. A few said things to her in Kreyol and when she didn’t answer back, they smiled and said “oh. . . American!” 
Every time someone asks K if she's excited about having little brothers, she responds, "Yes.  And I'm gonna be the boss of them!"  Baby sister can't wait to be a big sister and boss!
Our girls are natural jet-setters. I hope we have the opportunity to take them all over the world as they grow up because they are such great travel companions. They’ve already seen and experienced so much more than D and I did at their age and I often wonder how these things will shape and influence who and what they grow up to be. I love seeing new places and cultures through their eyes and I love that they’re genuinely interested and curious and excited about difference and adventure and trying new things.

They truly love their brothers.  Every day they pray for them and talk about how badly they want to go back to Haiti and how they can’t wait to get their brothers home.

The most dreaded part of every day was taking the boys back to the village. Not only because it’s so hard to say goodbye—even for a night—but the walk itself was a big, hot, dramatic ordeal. On the morning walks, everyone was rested and energetic and ready to play. But by the end of the afternoon, there was more moaning and groaning and whining and complaining over the 15 minute walk to the children's village than there was over 12 hours of sitting still and being quiet on Embassy Day! After a full day of swimming and play, the children were all tired. Daddy and Mama were tired, too! Did I mention it was as hot as an oven? Even the breeze coming in off the ocean felt hot! It felt like we were trekking across the Sahara Desert!

A rainbow surrounded the sun all Friday afternoon. 
Hard to capture in a picture, but it was the wildest thing!  I googled it and discovered it's a rare atmospheric phenonemon called a called a "sun halo" or "sun dog" and is formed by tiny ice crystals way up in the atmosphere. 

Of course J had to be carried--I volunteered for that job.  Then there was the backpack full of water bottles. . .  As soon as HM realized we were going back to the village, he started getting sad and refused to walk. So D carried him. K decided she's still enough of a little sister to require holding, too.  So D picked her up and had 3 year olds on each hip.  A fussed that no one was able to hold her, so I tried to pack-horse with her on one of my hips (didn't last long) and J on the other.  We rotated babes and the backpack every few minutes, took regular breaks so I could do some Lamaze breathing (it DID finally come in handy!), and stopped every 50 or 100 steps to and drink some water, catch our breaths, ask "where's the hut?"* and psych ourselves up to start walking again. 

Leaving the resort for the village.

After we dropped off the boys, we had to turn around and trek back to the resort with the girls.


Once we got there, we all sat in the chairs under the ceiling fans in the lobby area. D bought us soft drinks at the bar. We felt like survivors!

In real life, D's face was as red as the Coke can.  

A and MN thought they could really blend in with the locals 
if they could only master the art of carrying stuff on their heads.  

Cheers!  Celebrating surviving another afternoon hike.

By the time Saturday afternoon rolled around, I could hardly bear the thought of doing that walk. We decided to ask one of the men at the hotel desk if it would be possible to call a tap-tap to drive us up the street to the children’s village.  I was afraid I would get a “it’s just across the bridge” response.**  But no, drivers in Haiti don’t mind taking a family down the driveway and back. The children enjoyed the ride and we tipped handsomely.  Worth every penny!

Fun in the pool.  Our girls think giving someone bunny ears in a photo is the funniest thing ever.
They think it means "I love you", which makes it even more hilarious to them when the boys do it to the girls at school.

D carried MN back to the room one night after dinner so she wouldn't feel

left out as the only child who didn't get carried on our walks to the children's village!

Saturday evening's goodbye was the hardest of all. I kissed sweet J and looked him over closely as I handed him back to his special mother. I tried to take note of every little detail. The smell of his hair. His grip around my finger. His tiny toenails. The way his eyes sparkle when he grins.  Our baby boy is growing and changing every day. It happens so fast at this age! I know he’s going to change so much more in the coming weeks and months before we see him again.

I could only imagine what HM was thinking as we told him goodbye. I know the village staff and special mothers try to explain the process and that we are his family and that we are here to visit and that he’ll one day go home with us. But does he really comprehend what they are telling him? He’s lived at the village since he was a baby. Does he even have a frame of reference to understand what “go home” means or how family life works? His mother visits him at the village and then we visit every few months. Does he think that’s what family is? People who come and visit every few months? Does he think we live at the resort or does he understand that we live far away? And does he understand what “far away” is, since his whole life has been spent within a few square miles? It must be so confusing to him. I hate that our bringing him home is going to turn his whole world upside down and rip away so much familiarity and comfort. I pray God gives him strength for all the transitions ahead and brings healing to his little heart.

Footnotes:

*D and I spent a semester of college at Innsbruck University in Austria. Most weeks we spent a day hiking in the Alps with Club Innsbruck. The destinations were almost always “huts” situated near the summits of the mountains—little chalets serving schnitzel and apfel strudel mit schlag and other goodies and sometimes offering overnight accommodation to hikers. We would usually hike for a couple hours in the morning the before the hut would come into view, way off in the distance. Then it always seemed like for the next couple of hours after that, the hut never got any closer. We’d hike and hike and hike and then look up and ask “where’s the hut?” and it would be just as far away as it was before. It seemed it moved back a few feet every time we moved a few feet closer. Then suddenly, it would be right there and we’d plop down on the grass and spend an hour or two resting and getting something to eat before making our descent. “Where’s the hut?” is now a little inside joke with me and D, something we say when it doesn’t seem like we’re making progress or if we are walking somewhere and are anxious to reach our destination.

**D and I honeymooned in Paris. Before we left, we located our hotel on a map and saw that it was right across the bridge from a train stop (note: this was before internet and GPS. We are old.) We’d been to Paris before and were familiar with the trains and figured we’d just hop on a train from the airport and take it to that stop and then just walk across the bridge with our bags. Well, my suitcases were very heavy (I used to be a notorious over-packer—they used to not charge you or make a big deal when suitcases were overweight, they’d just slap a big yellow “HEAVY” sticker on it to warn the baggage handlers). I was already weary from the overnight flight and when we got off the train I decided my bags were too bulky and heavy to lug down the sidewalk. So we waved down a cab and I told the driver I wanted to go to the Hotel Lutece and pointed across the bridge. And he said “Well, that’s just over the bridge, you don’t need a cab for that” and drove away. Well, I knew it was just over the bridge but I WANTED a cab for that and I was willing to PAY for the ride! So D gave it a shot. SAME RESPONSE! So. . . we lugged our suitcases across the bridge to the hotel.