We have always been highly motivated. This motivation comes from a variety of places, some external forces and some internal. Some sources are more influential than others and some are more comforting influences than others. But whatever the genesis of our motivation, the outcome is the same: we are driven.
This drive is not limited to any one thing, it cuts across everything. And it’s not just driven to succeed in the traditional career sense. It’s driven to be engaged in life fully. To find the daily experience that engages us, propels us and unites us. It is to be unequivocally moving forward, progressing, creating, and improving. To be a life force.
***
When we decided to adopt, we did our paper work, we went through the motions. And then, as many adoptive families have experienced, things came to a griding halt. At the end of 2004 things were bad in Haiti. Not that things are wonderful now, but that period was particularly bad. And we were adopting in the middle of it. Along with many other people. It was winter, and snowing here. It was falling apart.
The advice we received was to wait, to not rock the boat, to let things take their course. It would all pass and get done. But in our mind, each day, each minute, each second, our baby boys were getting older. They were not getting the love and care we could provide, that they needed. They were alive, and relatively healthy as far as orphans in Haiti go, but when your children are waiting, that is no comfort. Each moment was an eternity for us and although the boys didn’t know, those moments slipping away were immeasurably valuable in so many ways.
Right or wrong as you may think, we took matters into our own hands. We called the head of Haitian social services. We called him daily. We called the Department of Homeland security daily. I connected with the DHS director for Latin American (who covers Haiti). We put the welfare of our children above all others. We were warned off by Haitians to not disrupt things, we were warned off by US services to not disrupt things. We pushed harder.
Things were hung up. Our paper work was not ready. Violence was erupting daily on the streets. It was chaos, there were concerns about over all country stability. We couldn’t wait any longer. We bought plane tickets. We would not come home without our babies.
***
We arrived in PaP and Rock, the incredible man running the orphanage and facilitating things on the ground, picked us up at the airport. We could tell he didn’t think much of us coming down here now, without everything complete and with the situation as it was. What did we expect to be able to accomplish. We gave him a wad of money and told him to use it to make things happen.
One day hours passed as we waited sitting in a steaming jeep in downtown PaP waiting for an Haitian ID to be finished. I had Owen in a front carrier, Heather had Kyle. We were all dehydrated and H and I fed the boys dried cheerios. Street vendors carrying their wares on tall sticks walked by hawking things at us. A woman cooked beans and rice in an aluminum pot over a rubber tire fire.
Before the ID was finished, shots rang out next to us. Everyone ducked, scattered; the streets cleared. Rock’s cousin jammed the jeep into drive and sped off, counting all along the way: 10% safe, 20% safe, 50% safe, until we arrived at our UN protected, walled hotel where he said we were 80% safe. We found out we had the ID. Heather and I each drank two rum punches that night, I fell and bruised my bottom.
The next morning, the Haitian paper work was done, but we had to wrangle the US side to get visas. It was the day before Carnival and we were strongly advised by everyone to get out of the country before this particular Carnival. I called to get airline tickets – all flights were 100% booked. But sometimes, you can find the right person. Sometimes that right person hears you, connects with you and moves mountains for you. I found that person and we secured 4 tickets on the day Carnival starts.
We got into the jeep wearing our babies on our chests. The consulate had removed all non-essential personnel and was closing. Our facilitator had given up on getting the visas and told us we would have to wait until next week. We convinced him to head to the consulate anyway. Using his cell phone as we drove into PaP I got someone at the consulate. And then I got the right person who agreed to meet us before he was evacuated.
Our facilitator was clearly amazed. Owen and Kyle were sweating in the morning heat, pressed to our chests.
There were no US Marines at the consulate, only Haitian guards. We waited for a long time. There was a 3 year old Newsweek in the lobby. A Dartmouth grad came out to sign out paper work. We played the name game, it was really weird. We had the visas.
The last stop was Department of Homeland security. We were an hour late for our appointment. They had been sticklers about every detail. Eventually they let us in (there was a line out the door). In an amazing coincidence, the DHS Director for Latin American happened to be visiting Haiti that week. He saw our boys. There was a document still missing. We had the document but it needed something, I can’t even remember what. He looked at us, he looked at the boys, he signed the document. We were ready to go.
Before we left, our facilitator said to us, “you have passion”. That was his explanation for how we accomplished everything in a week. He was astounded.
Some people are highly critical of our decisions on how to go about doing things and how we did it. Some are bitter that we were able to get our kids faster. Some think the way we did it was right. After we came home, a number of communications came out that nobody under any circumstances should call the Haitian social services department. I am sorry if we caused any problems for anyone else.
***
This is how we live our life. Daily. Find the things that really matter.
Do whatever it takes.