Because of the joy

This is most difficult thing I have ever done in my life, no question about it. And I have been so realistic about what we were doing, how it would make an impact on all of us, and how it would be a slow process. But there was no way to anticipate the feelings that I had in Uganda, that I had children who needed me in the States, and one who desperately needed me there. There is no way to explain what it is like to endure three flights with a child who has never even used a seatbelt. There is no way to prepare for the sheer exhaustion- both mentally and physically. I have been pregnant twice, and the second time had twins. This is harder in many ways. We chose this and changed our life to make this happen.  It has been and will continue to be amazing. But it has taken a toll - on me, mostly, but also on our "first" kids, my husband, and no doubt, Fort. 

The first week was overcoming the debilitating lack of sleep both on my part, and on Fort's.  then the layer of jet lag, strep throat, and finally the stress and anxiety of the move. There were big tantrums, long screaming fits and general meltdowns. This second week we are both recovered for the most part- although I am still sleep deprived, it is of a manageable sort, not the dense fog which keeps the words from reaching the tip of my tongue. Fort and I are doing a complex tug of war- pulling this way and that. On his side- If I hit you, will you stop me?  Will you still love me?  Will you leave me?  On my side- if I discipline you, am I teaching you?  Am I scaring you?  Will you pull away farther?  It is never ending and always tenuous. 

When I sit back and look at the whole picture, we have not yet been home 2 weeks. So much has been compacted into this time. Fort's temper tantrums are not only common, but neccesary. And he has made huge strides since he's been home. I forget that we are all going through this too- not just me and Fort. The kids are all doing amazingly well. They seem to hear me when I appeal to their sense of empathy- I am only one mom for four kids who all need me. I am getting used to it to. I am working hard, but you need to patient with me.   My husband is an incredible support, he appreciates that I'm bearing the brunt of Fort's adjustment, by the mere fact that he is at work and I spent so many weeks of bonding time already. The weight of managing all the needs of all the kids in the orphanage has been relieved, although not forgotten. Now I am succumbing to the inevitable fact that, yes, raising 4 kids is more difficult than raising 3. And I see that no matter how stable, secure & strong our biological children are- they are still children. They are 6, 6 & 7 years old and they need me too. They need me right now more than they used to, because they are still compensating for the weeks I was away. And they are themselves battling with the newness of sharing me with one more, and one so needy and demanding.  And that is wearing on me. Everyone needs me, and I am constantly balancing their demands. 

Hands down, the most uplifting part is the joy. There is an unbelievable sense of delight and happiness in Fort, that I never saw while he was in Uganda. He LOVES being part of our family. His eyes light up when I ask him who lives in this house or who is in his family.  He likes to list us all by name, to say that this is HiS house, HiS bed, HIS bike. Everyday he gets a little better, a little easier.  He is affectionate by nature, but continues to surprise me with "BIG KISS!" - taking my face between his hands and planting his pillow lips on mine. . He thrives on learning the limits and rules- each tantrum getting a little more manageable after each time we teach him a new rule.  He is the little sponge I had hoped he would be.  He had barely even noticed books before, and certainly didn't seem to have an interest or attention span. Books were more of a competition to sit on the lap or turn the page. Already in a week he is lined up on the couch with our other 3, book in his lap, just happily flipping the pages and really comprehending the stories when I read them. The other night, he was in the bathtub with Ben, and watched him dunk his head under the water. Suddenly I hear "I do it!" ringing in the air, and there is my other son, slippery and shiny, surfacing from putting his entire head underwater for the very first time. His eyes were lit with excitement and he was grinning from ear to ear - so proud. 

He says "pease" and "shamp pyou" when we prompt him, which is extra amazing since please and thank you don't exist in the Luganda language. He kisses the kids good night and asks them to come and play with him ("you come!"). He is able to understand better and communicate much more than before.  I have never had a child as fascinated by trucks and machinery than him- we watched the bulldozer/excavator thingamajig for twenty minutes from the sidewalk.  He is enthusiastic about trying almost everything new - food ("and me!"), mama's car, raking leaves, the kids' soccer practice and of course, toys.  I know I am in the thick of it, and I am trying to see beyond today's battle to the real growth underneath.   His life has changed about as drastically as one's life can, and as exhausting as it is, he is drinking it up.