As I was talking to a friend last night, a friend whose children came from the same hell that Bubbly did, I was reminded of something. I need to remember this as I deal with Bubbly’s infuriating behavior. The behaviors that leave me frustrated, sometimes weeping and always feeling very alone.
I know this. I didn’t always. I used to doubt it. At the onset of the disgusting end of my most recent Ghanaian journey, I used to doubt that any of the kids that came from Bubbly’s hell were “supposed” to be here. Their pasts are comprised of deeply tangled lies. How can children who came here on a foundation of lies ever belong here? How can I parent children whose very presence here is based on one lie after another after another? I used to struggle with it so much. I don’t anymore. Her life, all of their lives, would have ended if they hadn’t come here. Not that they would have died, well, some of them would have, but their lives as we know them would have ended. There would be no education (because what they’re serving up at Kings Intl School isn’t education at all). There would be no future. There would be no hope. If there is one thing I’m committed to changing for my children’s friends, it will be that someday, there will be hope again. It’s coming. There are moms who have seen it all and refuse to give up on the kids that were left behind.
I look at my kids now, at the family we’ve become in just twelve weeks of being complete, as we struggle daily to overcome what other people might consider insurmountable obstacles. I’m proud. Even though I’m deeply ashamed of where my kid’s came from, not who they came from, but the route they took to get here and who they went through to become part of our family, I’m still so proud of them. And, I’m not afraid to say that I’m proud of myself. I’m proud of every one of the parents who continues forward with these children. Not one of us is shying away from these struggles. There are some families with children who have struggled so much more than mine. There are some who were virtually unaffected by everything that went on. We are all moving forward. We’re relying on each other. We call, we email, I even get a letter from a little friend every once in awhile (she tells me that I am “a good mother”, which makes me smile). I feel supported, which is so important. When you go through something like this, you quickly learn who your real friends are. They are the ones who hang in there and keep calling even when you’re totally overwhelmed and frustrated. Thank you. Thank you for the late night phone calls as I struggled. Thank you for telling me that you understand. Thank you for letting me know that Bubbly is where she is meant to be. I know it now.
who feels hope rising.