Still an Orphanage Part 3

Prior to heading to Haiti, we were all hyped up about this trip and rightly so.  The days we had been waiting for when we would finally sign papers Haiti side putting us one step closer to finalizing our adoption and getting to hold our babies in our arms were finally upon us.  But now that those days have come and gone, I’m left sitting here wondering what really just happened.  I want to be very careful to not sound ungrateful because that is not my heart.  I am incredibly thankful for every second we had with our babies.  However, I have to be honest about some things.  In theory the hours upon hours of bonding time we had with our babies sounds really nice but in reality it all felt like a big fat hoax.  I kind of felt cheated.  I wish I could write a fairytale movie about our adoption that makes everyone feel all cozy and warm inside, but life rarely plays like the movies.  Don’t let the pretty pictures fool you.  We were still in an orphanage.  Yes, it was a nice orphanage, but it was still an orphanage. 

Kali and Wana

Me and Raphaella

Trey and Wana

I should have stopped long enough to remember that I was going to be in an orphanage.   That should have alerted me stop and consider this might not be all I was hoping it to be. 

When I was in the 6^th grade I had a friend named Jessica Rochelle Kurtz.  One day we were playing during recess and I was being silly as usual.  I grabbed her headband off of her head, put it on my head and ran inside to hide in a bathroom stall.  About a minute later she came and stood on the toilet in the stall next to me, peaked her head over the top of the stall and scared me worse than watching a horror movie by yourself on a dark night.

My fear reflex caused me to jump straight up and I banged my head on the purse hook on the inside of my stall door. I walked out, looked in the mirror and saw blood gushing from my head and dripping all over my yellow name brand Espirt shirt.  My grandma bought me that shirt from Dillards.  I loved that shirt.  Next thing I know I was headed to the hospital.  It was my first time to be going to the hospital for anything other than a normal yearly checkup and even though everyone around me seemed relaxed, something in me knew it wasn’t a place I wanted to be.  I repeatedly asked all the way to the hospital, “Do I have to get stitches, do I have to get stitches, do I have to get stitches?” 

This was the first time I would be going to the orphanage my girls have been living in for the last 6  months…I should have known, just like the hospital, this wasn’t going to be a place I wanted to be.  I should have repeatedly been asking questions on the way to the orphanage, “Do I have to go in, do I have to see the pain and suffering in the lives of the orphans, do I have to go in?”  I did end up getting 8 stitches by the way.  And we did end up going inside the orphanage and we did see the pain and suffering. 

When we first stepped into the main house, the staff was waiting for us and immediately handed our babies to us.  Everyone said things like:  smile, be happy, enjoy your time as a family together. 

I swear everything I had envisioned for this trip disintegrated in that very moment.  I began to regret the excitement I had built up convincing myself this whole experience was going to be like a family vacation. 

Were Trey and I the only ones aware that we are still in an orphanage?  I translated all of these words of joyful encouragement more like this:  on your mark…get set…go!!  You have 4 days to make up the year you missed with your babies…start bonding!!  Time is ticking!!  No matter how hard I tried, I could not drown out the ticking clock and my eyes started leaking drops of water.  It all felt very pressured and I don’t really pull off the acting thing too well.  I wanted to make the best of my time with our babies but despite everyone around us splashing happiness all over the place, I could not shake the eerie fact that we were still in an orphanage and I was growing frustratingly annoyed that no one else around us seemed to be aware of this fact.  Maybe because the staff lives at the orphanage and the volunteers spend so much time there they have no choice but to become desensitized to the orphanage setting they live and work in.  If you read my blog and somehow have been led to believe I am some kind of perfect, holy, super mom and wife, you have not been reading long enough.  My flaws are obvious and they all come out eventually…like they will right now as I describe how I really felt at the orphanage…

I felt like we were being showcased against our will as soon as our babies were placed in our arms.  I had to hold my tongue as I listened to the orphanage staff and volunteers “ooh” and “aww” and comment about how beautiful our family was together.    

Were they smoking something?!  I wanted to roll my eyes in the most obnoxious way I could, slam some doors, and get abusive with sarcasm.  I wanted to “ooh” and “ahh” right back in their sweet little faces and in my most sarcastic voice tell them how beautiful they looked as they gracefully glanced over the finely typed orphan feeding schedules hanging on the wall and spent their designated times with their assigned child for the day. 

Excuse me people!! 

Telling a family they are beautiful in an orphanage is equivalent to telling someone you find it beautiful to see them being tortured and tormented.  It’s wrong borderline evil to have two amazingly precious treasures dangled in front of our faces for a few days and then sent on our way for an undetermined amount of time with catch phrases like, “I hope your girls get to go home with you soon.”

What’s up with that?  Is it okay to tell a family they look beautiful and play like life is rosy in that kind of a setting?  Maybe I need a therapist to inform me I’ve gone crazy, but I wasn’t seeing the beauty in it then and I’m not seeing the beauty in it now.  It looks and feels more like ugly and pathetic.   

However, because I’m certain the staff and volunteers all meant well, I did manage to contain myself and keep all of my comments and actions I just told you I felt like doing in my head…you know, because I’m a full grown adult and mature like that. 

After a few hours passed, I swallowed my irritations with the whole situation and we conceded.  The people in the orphanage were determined and we had no choice but to put on our actor/actress hats and perform.  We joined the staff and volunteers and started pretending the orphanage we were in was not really an orphanage.  We tried to play family.  We tried to pretend it was sweet and fulfilling that we were finally all together happily ever after...for 4 days anyway.  

This is not the end but I don't won't to wear you out with an obnoxiously long post.  I'm thinking I can wrap it up with one more post.  To be continued ...