All of the emotions. That's where I am currently. All of them. All of the time. I'm tired and exhilarated, broken and whole. The "birth" of our twin daughters this week has brought more joy, more chaos, and more love than we could have imagined. Just as you cannot prepare yourself for the birth of a biological child, you cannot begin to know what it will be like when your internationally adopted, foreign language speaking, children arrive.
I've been constantly amazed at the similarities between pregnancy/birth and the adoption process. Because I have been blessed enough to experience both, I feel like I can speak to the uncanny likeness. When I found out that we were matched with the girls, I walked around the house saying "oh my god. oh my god. oh my god" into the phone. This is exactly what I did each time I saw those two pink lines appear. From that moment on, I have experienced the same emotions I had with my pregnancies. The long wait seemed excruciating at times (although for a Haitian adoption, we were VERY fortunate, and had one of the shortest wait times I've seen), and that felt like being 41 weeks pregnant with Logan when I was just SURE this kid was never coming. But, like my pregnancies, the day came to finally bring them home and my brain put the brakes on like I'd seen a state trooper while doing 70 in a 30! "Wait! What was I thinking?! I can't do this!" Ready or not, here they come...
Jeff and I traveled to that land we've come to love, and waited impatiently as our driver took us through the familiar paths to the orphanage. This time would be different. This time they would come with us. We arrived late to Port Au Prince, and so we left rather abruptly after getting there. The girls hugged us, and seemed happy to see us, but reluctant to leave without knowing that they were going to be coming back soon. I reassured them that we would return the following day for their "Bon Voyage" party. They seemed satisfied with that answer and climbed into the van.
The guesthouse is 5 minutes from their orphanage and they'd never been there. At first, they seemed to think they needed to follow me everywhere, as if they weren't allowed to go places without me. Eventually they realized that we were ok with them exploring the house a little. They ate well there, of course, because they are used to their native Haitian cuisine. Little by little we learned more about these girls who would soon be coming home to live with us forever. Katia is hesitant with people, but brave with most experiences. Djouna is more trusting with people, but lets her sister take the wheel when it comes to things they haven't seen before.
The Bon Voyage party with their friends and nannies at the orphanage was a wonderful experience. Some children danced, while others watched, patiently waiting for their turn for juice and cake. Everyone hugged our girls and said goodbye. We could tell that they needed that closure, but I was happy to know they were ready to go when Djouna asked if we could go home now. I'll always be grateful that we took the time to experience that moment with them.
My friend Michaelle accompanied us to the guesthouse, the party, and eventually onto the hotel. The girls bonded with her immediately and found comfort in her ability to converse with them in their native kreyol. I was so grateful to her for being such a good friend to them. They continue to call her daily to tell her aobut their new life in America.
The girls repeatedly said no when I asked if they were scared...that is until we boarded the first plane. Djouna decided that yes, she was most definitely scared. She quickly switched seats with Katia, who'd originally been sitting in the middle and was now all but climbing out the window trying to see all of Haiti from that small square opening. The engine started and they both looked at me in fear. I tried to reassure them as best I could, and surprisingly, take off and flight went quite well. It wasn't until we landed, spent way too much time in immigration, and missed our connecting flight that we started to see some fatigue from them. We ate a meal together at an airport restaurant, had some ice cream, and walked the halls of the airport. At this point, I was pretty sure they thought America was just an endless stream of airport nonsense. Highlights of the airport experiences were escalators and moving sidewalks. Their faces were hilarious as they tried to imitate my movements through these foreign concepts.
We got home incredibly late, but were welcomed by our bio kids and my mom with a sign saying "Welcome Home" in both english and kreyol. The girls were ushered into their new home with hugs and giggles. They took in their surroundings as best they could with 13+ hours of travel fatigue setting in, and I could tell that sleep would not come as soon as they'd like due to their fear of the unknown. So, although we showed them their room, they were elated when I suggested that they have a sister sleepover in the family room. Addison and Morgan were more than willing to accommodate and the first night at home went rather well! Although...to bed at 2:30am, and they woke me at 6...yep!...I have newborns!!
Food has been an interesting and at times, frustrating piece of the new puzzle. I try to ease them into our American diet with foods that are similar to theirs. Thanks to a group of adoptive mothers, I've gotten some tips that help a lot! Never leave the house without hot sauce....and hard boiled eggs and peanut butter are our friends. Today we discovered that they don't like pancakes, and Jeff is pretty sure that's not allowed. But we're learning likes and dislikes, things in which they take comfort and those they don't.
Poor Morgan has been dubbed the new bestie, and scapegoat for all their jokes. They follow here everywhere and she is getting a healthy taste of what it means to have pesky little sisters!! The first day home was filled with lots of outside play. All four girls went on a walk together, played volleyball, softball, and soccer together. Since that day they've met all immediate family members, and although relationships are not exactly comfortable yet, they seem to know they are loved. We've also experienced our first sibling ballgame. Anyone who knows us, knows that this will be a common theme in their lives. They did well there despite being surrounded by strangers, all eager to meet them. I can tell sometimes they are overwhelmed though and I'm grateful to those who give us space. They need it right now.
While it has been challenging at times, it has also been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I'm incredibly grateful to the woman who gave birth to my beautiful daughters. And today, on this Haitian Mother's Day, I honor her and vow to hold her babies close while she holds mine, until we are able to meet again on the other side. I'm trying very hard to be "mom" to all, and that isn't always an easy task, but I think we're getting closer to hitting a groove of our own.
"Love and peace" is something I say often after losing Easton. I try not to qualify emotions anymore, or say things like "stay strong", or "stay positive". I think it's incredibly important to allow yourself to feel all emotions, and I think telling someone to stay positive implies that breaking isn't allowed. But breaking is important, and it's real. And real is liberating. Love and peace allows people to feel the only thing I can offer. I can send love and wish for peaceful moments for them. I cannot guarantee that things will get "better" or be fixed. And this phrase has served me well over the last 6.5 years. Now in this new chapter in our lives, between new foods, new hair, and new hugs, I can say with certainty that these Haitian/American beauties have brought a whole new level of love and peace...
