Wednesday morning, we decided to head back to the group home around 8. The four of us sat in the room designated for parents where we found the other HCH parents and the director. This meant that our kids had been separated from her. She had asked to stay with the kids but was refused that opportunity although they did put her up in another home they had on the grounds. The basic jist was that the kids left Haiti around 4 or so (if I'm remembering right). They flew on an army cargo plane. Upon arriving in the US, all 40 kids from many different orphanages had to clear customs. The kids then arrived at the group home where they were bathed, dressed, fed, and given a basic physical. After that, they were allowed to sleep. Needless to say, it was around 2 am when they were finallly in bed asleep. My sweet daughter was taken out of Melinda's arms asleep and basically awoke to completely new surroundings and new people. I do not think she was kept in the same house as the other HCH kids but I don't know that for sure. At any rate, we were actually one of the first families to have their name called to receive their child and their documents. We headed back to a narrow little hallway with about 5 or so other families whom we didn't know. We sat and chit chatted a bit and slowly the first of the kids was carried into the hallway to be united with the right family.
Conleigh was maybe the third or fourth child to come inside. We had a baby doll for her and pictures of us with her from our trips to Haiti but her eyes were glazed over and she really didn't look at any of the things. The group home worker handed her to us and the quiet lasted for a bit. (Maybe ten minutes.) And then the crying started.
I am not sure I can explain it with words. It started a bit mad and was interspersed with her pointing at every doorway, wanting down and wanting out. It continued for hours until it was this sad, mounful cry that seemed to be like it was all the cry she had left. It took almost 2 hours for them to process all of our paperwork. We tried distractions like food and toys. We were actually in a fairly small space with many other families and workers so we were awfully aware of how loud we were. We went outside hoping a walk might help. We sang and danced and maybe stood on our heads. Nothing helped. I am completely convinced that her pointing at the door was her trying to find Melinda or the other children she knew from HCH. I am completely convinced she was scared beyond words because she couldn't find a familiar face.
After almost an hour, some worker tried to offer us food or some other trivial bit to comfort her. I did my best not to be in full Mama bear mode but really wanted to say something snide as I was a bit out of sorts that the worker did not seem to understand why this child might be traumatized and not comforted by food. I told her that I thought Conleigh really just needed to see the orphanage director as Conleigh had not yet seen her since the previous night. The worker promptly found another person, took Conleigh from my hands, and handed her to this woman whom I didn't know. I then realized that the worker assumed I meant the director from another orphanage and that the worker had brought the wrong orphanage director to me. Obviously, that didn't help the situation. Plus everyone who was trying to help kept looking at the id bracelet on Conleigh and kept calling her by her given Haitian name, Youmie, which Conleigh has never known as her name was changed as an infant.
We finally got to see Melinda about 30 minutes before all of our documents were processed. Melinda showed Conleigh our book of photos and spoke with her in Creole about what was happening. Once we received the correct documents, we headed to try to find the other children from HCH so Conleigh could say goodbye to them but we only could find one of them. And by that time, Conleigh was completely reduced to crying again. We hastily left and headed back to the hotel.
At the hotel, Conleigh continued to point to the door and want to leave. I don't remember how much crying went on. I do remember her very clearly pointing to the toothbrushes on the counter and saying in English, "Brush teeth." She didn't eat anything and fell asleep around 6. She slept for 12 straight hours until 6 the next morning when it was time for us to head to the airport. While she was asleep, we quickly posted a few pictures online, booked our flight home, and called and tried to make arrangments so that someone would be at the airport when we arrived to take pictures of our arrival.
The next morning, the alarm rang and I woke up to an exhausted child still sleeping beside me. We dressed her in a 3T shirt and pants which were way too big and slipped on some gianormous tennis shoes. Then back to the Miami Airport for our flights out. Conleigh clung to me for the remainder of the way home. No fussing or tantrums, just a tired girl who was content with someone who seemed fairly safe. I had also asked a friend to share with me some basic Creole for "Melinda is not outside the door. You have to stay with us."
When we arrived in Omaha, we were greeted by the most unlikely welcome crew. Because of the short notice, we had no family to meet us. But two of our church friends, John and Paul were there. I'm not sure if I can explain the situation. Picture two 50ish/60ish men waiting to meet us, one of whom has a long ponytail. With cameras. Quite the pair to greet this little girl.
After a bit of visiting with Paul and John, we got on the shuttle and headed towards long term parking for our car. In the car, I sat in the backseat with Conleigh as she experienced a car seat for the first time. She did great and did not complain. She did not sleep at all. Once we had been driving for about 45 minutes, she started pretending she had a cake and wanted to sing "Happy Birthday" to us all. I can still hear her raspy little voice, very hoarse from all the crying and wailing from the day before, singing and giggling all the way home.
As I sat down to write all this, I was amazed by how much I had forgotten. It's a long story, but a beautiful one. One that only God could have written. There have many many months of a Mama praying for her daughter's heart. For her heart to stop the striving to get it's own way but instead to "walk humbly with the Lord." (Micah 6:8) For the anxiety that caused chronic sleeplessness to cease and be replaced by a "the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, that will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:7) And many months of savoring the sweetness of God's plans, of tasting and seeing that the Lord is good.
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