"Those People"

It's been an odd weekend so far.  I think it has finally hit me that we are home.  We keep looking at the clock, looking at each other saying "if we were in Haiti right now, we would be..."  

I am not depressed or sad, just sort of numb, going through the motions of life (groceries, laundry, catching up on work email, etc...)

I was looking at the last of the pictures I took on Thursday morning before we left (Joe and I went up to the balcony around 6am...  it was beautiful, peaceful and sad.)  The picture I took of the rocking chairs really sums up how I feel:  Empty.

I am hoping I will be able to get back into the swing of things...  "engage in life" and appreciate what I have.  But that is a tall order when you have a new perspective on life...  or maybe it's more like taking a refresher course in "life priorities 101."

It just never adds up in my mind - why we are in Oregon and our son is in Haiti; why this has to be so difficult.  This infertility /adoption journey has been one long, tough road.  Maybe one day we will look back and have some understanding and peace with the way things turned out, but right now - I can't reconcile it.

However...  I know I am not alone.  I have friends and family (you!) who have been faithfully praying and following our story.  We love you and are so thankful for your support - be it in the background praying silently or sending emails and thoughts our way.  I also know there are friends, who are in this right alongside me, feeling the exact same emotions and facing the same obstacles with this Haiti adoption process. 

I think in my mind I know things are going to be okay; when we finally get him home, all of this will be in the past.  And while it won't ever be "acceptable" to have missed the first 2 years of his life, we will also have years and years of memories ahead that will quickly outweigh what was missed.  Right now though - we wish we could be a family... together under the same roof.

I wish we had the means and ability to go be with him, until the government finally allowed him to come "home."  I would do it...  I love him that much.  But it's not in the cards for us, so we are praying that God prepares us for the day when we can go get him; that we have the tools we need to be the parents he needs.  And we pray for his safety and health and that GLA has the resources they need to care for all those babies...

But tonight, my heart is breaking when I think of Samuel wondering:  How come "those people" aren't coming to get me anymore?