Today we learned that our dossier has made it safely to Haiti and we are officially entered into IBESR. We thought his wouldn’t happen until next summer, so we are overjoyed and happily surprised!!
It will still be months or more than a year before we are matched. The committee to suggest and approve matches for new law families hasn’t even been formed yet, so we really have no idea when to expect a referral.
We continue to rest in God’s perfect timing and trust in His unfailing love for all of us – the Puelstons here in America and the future Puelston in Haiti. A ten month fast-forward feels like a golden ticket right now, and we rejoice in His kindness. He can move the mountain. He is mighty. And we’re so grateful to our wonderful agency for helping us and making every effort to unite children with their forever families.
As I flew back to the USA from Haiti last month, I wrote this letter to our future child.
Today I left Haiti, and a piece of my heart will be there forever. I keep thinking of the song “Thousand Miles” by Vanessa Carlton.
“If I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by? ’cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles if I could just see you…if I could just hold you…if I could just be with you tonight.”
“Somewhere Out There” was playing too: “Somewhere out there, beneath the clear blue sky, someone’s thinking of me and loving me tonight”.
I’m thinking of you, baby. I’m wondering where you are tonight. If you have been born yet, and if you have – if you have a place to sleep that is clean and dry.
My sweet baby, I want to hold you so badly. I want to give you kisses and tell you how much your first mama loved you and how your new daddy and mommy will care for you. I want to show you the place you were born and tell you how much I love Ayiti. I will whisper “manman renmen ou, my sweet child” in your ear and trace your beautiful face with my fingertips.
Your country is beautiful. It has a piece of my heart that will never return – it will always be planted in the cement grey dust of Ayiti.
I can’t even begin to tell you how much hope I have that Haiti will rise and become stronger and more beautiful in the years to come.
I hope it is not very long before I once again step on Haitian soil and see those mountains and the beautiful bay. Not long until I meet you.
And until then, my love, I will pray. Pray for you. Pray for Haiti. Pray for the people who know you. Pray that you will be safe and protected from the evil that lurks for parentless babies. I pray that someone tells you how very much you are loved. I ask Jesus to write your name on His hands and send his angels to guard you. May your tummy have enough food to keep the hunger from being too deep. May you be able to drink clean water. May you have friends to play with and a place to lay your precious head.
And when we do finally make the journey to bring you home to our family, I promise I will hold you. I promise I will cry with you as you grieve for what you’ve lost and try to make sense of what you’ve gained. You are a treasure and we will be a family that always loves and honors Haiti. Always thanks God for your first manman and papa.
This letter to you is sealed with the many tears I cried as I flew home from your beautiful Ayiti. When you are ready, we will go back and visit. We will see your home and see your people. You will always be free to know where you came from and who loved you before us. And if we don’t know, I hope your heart will rest in what is true now: I love you. Your daddy loves you. Your brothers and sister love you.
Whatever happens, however you feel, whatever you do – you will always be loved.