My kids are ok. GLA has a little notice on their website that no one was hurt in the earthquake. The earthquake is the worst news I’ve heard in a long time, and the boys being alive is the best. But you know what? This could sound mean and rude, but I’m reeeeeally tired of people saying things that in essence mean “coulda been worse.” Ya, I guess it could be worse. Thanks for your supportive words. This will only add oh, a year to our process. But ya, you’re right – look on the bright side. The biological mother who lives in a slum could be hurt or missing…she has to go to court so we can have the boys, but ya – look on the bright side. Our dossier is probably under a pile of rubble somewhere never to be seen again, but I suppose I really should look on the bright side. Look, I don’t mean to whine. Clearly there are millions of other people’s lives who are affected by this more than mine. However, I am having trouble with people telling me that it could be worse. So don’t tell me that or you will get the coldest iciest glare you’ve ever seen and then I’ll walk away. I’m tired of explaining to people why this is depressing. It’s a reminder of how fragile and vulnerable Haiti is, and therefore how fragile the process of adopting is, and therefore I again have to face the fact that this may never happen.
If something happens to my boys I think my heart will just plain stop beating. I will stop living. I try to go to God about this and beg him to protect them. However, there is an ugly hideous lack of trust that I feel from time to time. Yet I know that things like these are not works of God. They are signs that this world is not our home. They are are signs of SNAFU. It wasn’t meant to be like this, and even the earth is waiting for God to make it perfect. I’d bet that God is hurting more than any of us.
There is this one other curious piece to the puzzle. Feeling like I was at the end of my rope last night, I realized that I have not got my mail since last week because I’ve been working all the time. So at 10 I bundled up and walked my dog to the mailbox, and it is was a card from a friend that was celebrating the life of my kids and the fact that we are parents now. It was the only possible way that God could show me He is still looking after me, and that He still knows me, and that He can still pull out the little things like this card (which was actually huge) even when He “can’t” stop earthquakes from destroying the place where my boys live.