Post Pardem Depression

Alright, I am coming clean and admitting, I'm struggling. This is adoption is everything I hoped it would be and so much more that I hoped it would not be. I have spent the day in tears, sobbing, frightening poor Liberians all over town. My taxi driver pulled over and bought me a handkerchief. When I got out of the car he came over to me and said, "You can't cry like that, it makes Africans feel bad." I told him I was sorry and I would try to cry in my room. I think he was really disturbed that I was crying in his car. I seriously should be crying at his driving, but I've learned not to watch.

There are so many reasons that I am overwhelmed. I must be completely candid, even though some people will say, "I told you so." or "Why did you choose to adopt from Africa anyway?" . Right now, the truth is, I am trying to remember what got me here in the first place. I am exhausted. I think the stifling heat and the traffic from hell does not help me. I am also so homesick, I miss my other five children and husband beyond belief. But, mostly I am worried that I have destroyed my delicate family balance. Florence and Diamond are needy and throw tantrums that make Sophia's look like a sneeze. Diamond bites me and pinches me when I don't give him his way. Florence attacks others and if I don't serve her needs first she flops on the floor and screams. They have no patience to wait and they throw tantrums that are the equivalent of a world war. They can not sit still at dinner and are destroying things constantly. When I go to the bathroom, they both scream and holler and kick the bathroom door until I reemerge. I have tried numerous times to tell them that this will not be permitted in America because they have other siblings that need mommy's attention too. I am so scared about how my other children are going to do, that I can't think of it without sobbing again. I just keep thinking, "What have I done?"

I am trying very hard to see these children the way Christ sees them. I am trying to be very understanding of the pain they have endured. They have been abandoned multiple times. Everytime we go back to the AFAA house, Diamond will not leave my side. He is terrified that I will not come back for him. Today, I left him to eat with the other kids at the AFAA house while I went for water and snacks. He would not touch his food or talk to anyone until he saw that I had actually come back, then he ate just fine. They are sweet kids. There are just so many layers that I have to peel off and retrain them. It is also hard because I do not have the complete and overwhelming love for them that I have for my own biological children yet. It will come, but I have so much to learn and work on. Time, I think time is the answer, but I am still very worried about the toll this is going to take on my children, especially Sophia and Giselle. God help me, is all that I can say. I will need to be given strength that I know I do not have right now.

We leave for the airport at 3 pm tomorrow. Our flight is at 7 pm. We have to clear customs and go through the proper procedures to ensure that our children are officially adopted. Like everything else in this country, it will mean long lines, lots of waiting, and being hot and sweaty and dirty--like nothing you can comprehend in America. I am dreading the tantrums that I will get to drag through airports and endure on horribly long flights. I may need to be shot and put out of my misery when I get home.

Today we went shopping for traditional African clothes. It was pretty amazing to see the men in the sweat shops (very literal here), embroidering and sewing these outfits with these ancient machines. It was long and hot and it was absolutely craziness on the streets. I can't even begin to decribe the Christmas shopping crowd to day. It was the last day before Christmas that the shops will be open, then everything shuts down until the 2nd or 3rd of January. It was madness. Never again will I complain about the holiday crowds at the malls. Times that by about 10, stick them all on a dirty, garbage filled road, prevent them from showering for a month, turn the temperature up to 90 degrees (100 percent humidity), and then throw in several guys peeing in the gutter--oh, and women balancing all kinds of bizarre things on their heads--and there you have the Liberian Christmas rush. What a day!

Speaking of stinky and sweaty--that would be me right now. I don't think I have every continuously smelled as bad as I have this past week. But, I figure, everyone stinks here, no one will notice me. But at the end of the day, I really appreciate my cold, drippy shower.