Dear Brian, 

We left for Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, the day after Easter Sunday, 2019. We were in the midst of adopting Grace, and the time had come to spend the mandatory two weeks in Haiti with her in order to complete our socialization visit. The flight down was such an internal roller coaster: leaving behind the other five kids, split between your parents and my mom, leaving behind your now fast-paced growing business, and meeting Grace for the first time. On top of all of that, knowing we were going to have to leave her there in Haiti after the two weeks was just gnawing away at my insides. You held my hand for most of the entire flight. 

When we touched down in Port-Au-Prince, and the doors of the airplane opened, the smells and sounds of the city wrapped around me like a warm, cozy blanket on a winter night. It had been 23 years since I last set foot in Haiti. Haiti is one of those countries that, once you’ve been blessed to visit, it leaves a permanent indentation on your heart. You’re changed forever and for the better; the way you look at the world and your view of people is never the same. This particular Monday in 2019 was like a dream come true. I was standing there in the Port-Au-Prince airport holding your hand, getting to share this amazing country with you; this country that had lassoed my heart over 20 years prior. Getting to meet our beautiful daughter for the first time was the cherry on top.

We took the long, winding road up to the Kenscoff Mountains, where Grace’s creche was located. The ride up was so surreal; I was just full of so much gratitude to you and our Lord. It had only been a little over three years since we brought Finn home from China, and here we were in Haiti, about to meet and hold our daughter Grace. So many of the same emotions that filled us in Beijing when we met Finn for the first time were beginning to resurface. 

We quickly dropped our bags off at the house we would be staying at for the two weeks and continued the rest of the way to the orphanage by foot down a dirt road. I remember walking through the gates of the creche with you and being greeted by about five little friendly faces. We were escorted into a little room, all four walls lined with cribs. Grace was all of three years old at the time, and my eye caught her standing next to her crib, holding onto it, wearing a little denim skirt and cream sweatshirt, just staring at us as we walked in. You knelt down on one knee, and one of the nannies directed Gracie to go over to you. She slowly walked over to you, you scooped her up, and she began to run her hand along the scruff of your beard. She just stared at you while her little hand ran up and down the side of your cheek. I felt this immense rush of love for God giving us this gift of Grace, for you and your heart and your love for our little Gracie.

We spent the next two weeks at the creche from morning to night. We were there each morning when Grace was waking up, and we put her into bed each evening before heading back to the house. We spent the days playing with the kids and helping out with the feedings and changes of all the little ones. Grace had started to bond with both of us, and we were so enjoying our time there with her. We would FaceTime the kids back at home during the day so they would get to spend some time with her as well; it was so hard being apart from each other, but we were all brave, remembering this was only temporary. 

After leaving the creche each night, we’d recap our day to each other, cracking up at the times Grace made us laugh. It only took a day or two for her larger-than-life sense of humor to surface. Being at the creche every day for ten hours gave us the chance to not only bond with Grace but also to connect with so many of the children there. They all had such wonderful personalities, and all desired our attention and love. It was such a gift to be sharing this experience with you. Grace wiggled her way into our hearts, and leaving her there in Haiti at the end of those two weeks was, hands down, one of the worst days of our lives. But as in all things, we leaned on each other and our faith to give us the strength. I remember Tatito, Grace’s favorite Nanny in the creche, who loved her just as much as I do, looking at me while tears were rolling down my face and saying in broken English, “Courage, Mama, courage.” And for the next year, until Gracie was home with us, I kept putting myself back in that room, lined with all the cribs, and hearing Tatito tell me, “Courage, Mama, courage.” 

It was so nice to be back home and to see the other five kids again. You often refer to us as a wolf-pack; we’re just better when we’re all together. And that could not be more true! We spent the next few weeks at home sharing our stories with the kids and all of our family about our time at the creche with Grace. We spoke of so many of the kids we had met and connected with, but there was this one little young guy, slightly older than Dolan at the time, who had really caught our attention. “R” was bright-eyed and cautious, very intelligent and mature for his age. You and I found ourselves drawn to him, and, most days, he would sit with the two of us and Grace and share lunch with us. We told the kids all about him and how we should pray that he finds a family because he is such a special little boy. He would be a blessing to any family, we told them.

You and I had decided that knowing it was going to take another year before Grace’s paperwork was processed and she could officially come home to us, you would take some in-between trips to visit her. We were so blessed that there was a direct flight from Newark, NJ, to Port-Au-Prince. In June 2019, you and Gavin took a long weekend down to Haiti to visit our Gracie girl. I had so much gratitude to you for going to see her and for loving on her for all of us. We all missed her, and it made me and the kids so happy to know that you and Gavin would be there for a few days with her. You FaceTimed us many times a day, and it was such a gift to get to see Grace and talk to her. It was amazing to see how she remembered you and was bonding with you. And to see Gavin with her was wonderful. Grace had climbed into Gavin’s heart just like ours, and that was clear in all the pictures you were sending us. What was also becoming clear to both of us, without having to say it to each other, was that R was also making his way into our hearts. You sent one particular photo of Gavin with him that just made me think, Is God trying to tell us something? 

You and Gavin flew back home on a Sunday, and I remember you and I stayed up chatting that night after all the kids went to bed. I asked you if you thought the reason why R hadn’t found a family yet was because we were it. Your answer was, “I think you might be right.” The next morning, I reached out to our adoption agency, HOLT, and we started the process of bringing home our son R that same week.

Four-plus long years after submitting our initial paperwork to adopt R, we were officially matched and got to see his beautiful face on Zoom the day after Thanksgiving, 2023. God is good. I can’t say that over these past four years you and I didn’t exhibit large amounts of doubt toward a process that made it seem as if R would never come home to us. But, overall, we have the faith to know God is in control of R’s journey as well as ours. And having that faith gave us the strength to endure the pain of being away from him for these past four years. We were both overjoyed on that Zoom call to tell R how much we love him and how hard we have tried over the past four years to bring him home. To hear him call you Papa and me, Mama made this a Thanksgiving neither one of us will ever forget. Please, God, let these next few steps go quickly over the next year so we can bring R home to join his “pack.” 

I love you, 

MJ