Utahns wage a 'battle of endurance' in Haiti adoptions

The floor was shaking, the walls were crumbling and the babies at Ruuska Village Orphanage in Haiti were bouncing out of their cribs. Mandi McBride dived to shelter the screaming toddlers rolling across the ground, risking her life to keep them alive.

"I just knew we were all gone," said the Logan nurse, who has adopted two Haitian children and was on a humanitarian mission at the orphanage when a 7.0 earthquake hit Jan. 12. "I was praying as hard as I could. I've never been so close to death in my life."

It was a nightmare, she said — a nightmare that's still replaying over and over, not only in McBride's head, but in the imaginations of about a dozen Utah couples who are in the process of adopting children from Haitian orphanages.

Their orphans are homeless. They can't join their families in America because the Haitian government, worried about human trafficking, has stopped issuing humanitarian parole. And they are running out of food.

As horrific as the earthquake was, it wasn't the first twist of fate that's kept these children from their would-be American families. Many have been stuck in limbo for three, four and five years, waiting for adoption paperwork to be finalized. Kidnapping, hunger, sickness and death had already become a part of many hopeful parents' lives before the earthquake struck.

Falling in love

Peter Muelezaar, like most of Utah's soon-to-be-adoptive parents, didn't set out looking for a Haitian baby.

"I found my children," said the Heber businessman who is now in the process of adopting three orphans. "They just happen to be Haitian."

Since the earthquake, Ogden-based Wasatch International Adoptions hasn't taken a phone call that wasn't an inquiry about bringing home a Haitian baby, but, historically, Haiti hasn't been Utah parents' first choice.

Since Wasatch International Adoptions started working with the country in 2004, 18 percent of parents chose Haitian children. Despite recent crackdowns on international adoption in China and Guatemala, both countries have been consistently more popular with Utah parents.

Some parents who are adopting from Haiti describe their decision in spiritual terms.

"I just knew she was my daughter," said Angie Rasmussen, a Hyrum substance abuse counselor who has been trying to adopt a 10-year-old Haitian for four years.

She insists — as do most — that even though she's only seen Abigaelle seven times, that the two share a bond as strong as blood.

Waiting, waiting, waiting