There was a hard, dirt path from the Creche to the little building I was staying in. As I walked towards the door I could feel the heat on my face, see the sun and knew that I would be sweating through my shirt by mid day. I didn’t care though because a smiley faced toddler was running up the path screaming manman (mother in Creole) dressed in a beige t-shirt and crocs on her tiny feet.
She wrapped her arms around me and I could smell baby powder and sweat. I was on my knees, tears springing to my eyes – this was my daughter.
My alarm went off and I woke up in my queen sized bed, light streaming through my window, Simba snuggled in my knee nook snoring softly.
It’s not a bad way to wake up-but that dream was so real I couldn’t help but cry wanting those chubby little arms to still be around my neck.
I am a short way in to a long waiting game for a referral, knowing that this will not be the first of many dreams to follow. Will I have a daughter or a son? I don’t know and I don’t care.
Thank God for dreams
Cottage living, nothing beats it. Every summer with Kim and her family, the sites, the sounds and smells are so familiar to me now I can’t imagine a life without them.
On Saturday’s boat ride, coming back from Jeff’s friends cottage where Kim, Meaghan and I had no luck at fishing, Mya, (Kims daughter) sat in my lap for about ten minutes (which never happens – she is a mama’s girl at heart).
Her blond curls were tickling my nose from the cold wind and she was wrapped up tight in a towel around her puffy blue life jacket. Her head was resting against my chest and I was wondering if she would fall asleep again as she always falls asleep on boat rides! She was telling me stories and pointing at all of the Canadian flags as we sped by. I gently pressed my lips against her head and closed my eyes for just a moment and imagined when my own sweet boy or girl would be placed in my lap enjoying their new life in Canada at the cottage. It will be then that the sites and sounds and smells will change – everything will be seen through new eyes – through the eyes of my child.
Mya is around the age my own child will be so having her be so willing to spend her time with me just makes me feel like a kid in a candy store! I smile a bit brighter and the sadness and aching of not having my own child eases a little, knowing I will have a future as a mother and am right now getting to build my relationships with my extended family and their children.
For the rest of this week, I will hold tightly to the memory of those sweet curls blowing across my face and the warmth her tiny little soul provided me – even if it was only for ten minutes.
Last week I got the email/call I have waited for. I have waited a year – over a year for this news…
It’s probably not as exciting as you think…
I am officially in IBESR – which is the governing body in Haiti (like our social services) that handles all adoptions. I have a file number!!! This means that Haiti officially knows I exist!
I am still months and months away from referral (possible a year or more), but I am an optimist, not a realist so I constantly refresh my email thinking who knows – maybe I’ll be special, maybe I’ll get lucky and my referral for a match will come quicker than anyone else. In the back of my head and in my heart – I know this is not the case. I know I most likely will be sitting here a year from now blogging to you, my faithful followers, complaining about how I have waited over a year for a referral and that my faith is crumbling, but right now – so early in the process – my faith is high.
I do not know who this sweet little child is yet. I don’t know if they are a boy or a girl. I don’t know their age or personality or family history – but I know they are there. I know MY child is in Haiti and that they are eagerly waiting for me too.
Now I just need to stay calm. I need to control my excitement. I need to breathe. I need to prepare – financially, emotionally, physically etc etc etc.
I also need to have the best summer that keeps me busy and makes me have these amazing memories to look back on because the wait may just kill me.
Please say a prayer for me and my family.