What a day! (story)

I never got back to the computer yesterday to record some of that crazy story from January 2010.

Oh man.  If I tried even to summarize the story, I'd never finish.  So I'll just pick one tiny bit.

By a slew of miracles & tons of help from friends/family, I made it to the correct city where G had been flown from Haiti.  He was in a government children's home.  I needed to get there and prove my relationship to him.  I was told that I'd be able to visit him for the days it would take them to process our paperwork.

The info said that I could arrive at 10:00. 

I decided to aim for 9:30.

Can you imagine the emotions as I drove onto their property?  My rental car traveling the path that had brought my little son to the very same place?  Knowing that somewhere, in one of their little houses, strangers were keeping my baby?

I parked & went inside.  The lady who greeted me was a polished professional.  Super perky, she chirped: "So, you're a prospective adoptive parent?"

I growled my reply: "I'm a mother."

She faltered, but recovered: "Let me get your paperwork started right away...."

How gracious.  And she did.

As she started asking me for information - my 2006 tax figure, my mortgage account number, the length of my big toe - it became apparent that I had already scanned/emailed everything she wanted.  Notarized.  In triplicate.

I could not restrain my curt replies.  These government strangers, to whom I'd proved myself 10,000 times over 3 years, were holding my baby.

Again gracious, the lady asked: "Would you like me to have them bring G for a visit now?"


Yes.


She went to ask that G be brought over.  5 hours passed.  Finally I asked another lady about the wait.  She explained that G would have to be gotten ready and bussed over; that they would bring him asap; that it had only been 15 minutes.  Oh.

I waited another 5 hours.  Possibly exaggerating.  Finally I had to ask the lady again.  She turned to grab her phone, and.... there he was.

Alive.

In my arms.

Alive.

Lindsay had brought him over.  Lindsay, who is amazing with the children from our orphanage - tender & loving.  G had not been left to strangers because Lindsay had stayed with him.  She was still with him after days spent nonstop in Haiti at the Embassy.  She was so beautiful to me.

And G was in my arms.

I realized that the government lady had been asking me for 5 hours to report to her.  We were needed for photographs.

Our "visit" began.

And moments later, it was over.  We were cleared to leave.  Really?  Really!

My travel agent sister insisted: "Don't you just want to get a hotel?  You're exhausted.  Rest."

Oh no.  I was ready to be HOME.  She found me a same-day flight.

Driving to the airport - terrified - such precious cargo in the back seat.

Walking through the airport - exhilerated - as everyone commented on my handsome son.

Heart bursting as I got to introduce my tired G to his family.

And bursting again as I watched him sleep.  At home.

What a day.

What a year.