On his 6th birthday, we met for the first time. The moment my eyes met his, I knew him though I feared that I would not recognize him. Oh, to hold him was a sweet experience. The same as when I held my newborns for the first time at their births. This was our birth, our first meeting. I was able to spend four glori-ous days at the hotel with Nathaniel.

I studied Kreyòl before I arrived, but it was not enough. I spent a lot of time looking words up in my book, but I was able to communicate with him to a small degree. We enjoyed playing catch with the tennis ball I gave him, we swam in the pool, we ate good food, and we simply enjoyed each other. I asked people fluent in his language to explain and I explained it to him, but Nathaniel did not completely understand or maybe refused to accept that he would have to go back to the orphanage until our adoption was complete. Nathaniel threw himself to the floor, writhing and wailing in the agony of a child in emotional torment. I left sobbing and wishing that I, too, could throw myself to the floor and wail.

We were one of a handful of families whom the Director of IBESR, Mr. Cadet, spoke that spring and summer. While we were in Hawai'i on vacation our attor-ney in Haiti e-mailed telling us that he had done all he could do so we should call Mr. Cadet ourselves to advocate for our file to be signed. After several phone calls over a few days, my husband was able to speak to Mr. Cadet. He confirmed some information with my husband then said he would sign it that day. I fretted and obsessed all day, checked my e-mail at every opportunity for any information or glimmer of hope that our file had truly been signed out of IBESR on that day. None came from Haiti for the remainder of our vacation. Af-ter a night of throwing a fit, I decided to move on and enjoy the rest of my time in Hawai'i.

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