The last few days have been hard.
It’s been nearly 3 months since we last saw our kids. It’s been nearly 3 months since we said good-bye and told them we’d come back soon.
12 weeks since Mareg pointed to himself and then to the husband and myself, saying “dad”, “mom”, then over the orphanage gate “America”.
Our agency told us that every day for 85 days they’ve asked the orphanage workers when we’re coming back.
It really really really sucks.
The first couple months weren’t too bad- we knew it typically takes 8 or so weeks from the first trip to bring the kids home. But these last few weeks have been torturous, and it seems like every day it gets harder. Each event that passes is a reminder that they’re missing; that the kids are there when they should be here. This weekend we went to the zoo with my family. That’s been planned for awhile; we were nearly positive the big kids would get to go with us. Next weekend we’re going to a friend’s fundraising event. We bought tickets weeks ago; there’s one with Mareg’s name on it.
I feel awful for the kids. They can’t possibly understand why we haven’t come back. Their days are wasting away, spent within the same four walls with the same toddlers and little stimulation. They’ve watched other kids go home, kids that have been there for less time than they have. They’re not in school. They’re not learning English. They’re not learning how to be a part of a family. I wonder if they will ever be able to trust us once they get home.
I’m worried about how our family will adjust. Newly adopted kids, especially ones who have been in an orphanage for 2.5 years and speak no English, have significant needs. We hoped to have several weeks to focus on nothing but those needs. We hoped to get them somewhat comfortable with their new reality before baby comes along and everything gets really crazy. Selfishly, I hoped they were ready for school by the time baby comes so that I could spend some of my maternity leave alone with my newborn. How can we bond with each of our three littles? There are going to be so many little people with so many needs, and we are going to be so sleep-deprived and exhausted that I’m worried we’ll be failing everyone.
Usually I have no trouble finding a positive side to a situation but I’m really struggling right now. I try really hard to trust in “God’s plan” and often think of our infertility struggle, which felt so pointless and lonely and sad at the time but ended with the biggest blessing of our lives. I can only hope that a few years from now I’ll be able to look back at this time and say the same thing.
People often tell us to let them know if we need anything. Are any of my readers experts at smuggling people into the United States?