In 2013, we had the blessing of going to Haiti for a week long service trip with Mission of Hope. Well, it just so happened that the orphanage was right above the girls living quarters, and you literally had to walk right by the orphanage in order to get to the main campus. I had left my own 6 month baby boy at home with loving grandparents, and so my maternal instincts or hormones, or whatever you wanna call it, would draw me into those children's lives daily. When I met a little boy named Pierre, with cerebral palsy, and I saw his radiant smile, I was undone. And so was my husband. When I left, I would always leave with a certain level of sadness. Those mamas as we call them, would do the best that they could caring for so many little lives, but it was clear they were mostly trying to help them all survive, let alone thrive. There was a distinct smell of urine in the air, and while most of the physical needs were being met, many of the emotional needs for love and secure attachment fell to the wayside. This left me with a pit in my stomach and a longing to love the little ones that are left unloved. Before we left Haiti, we both knew in our hearts, that it wasn't a question of whether or not we would adopt, but when.