Signs

When the kids were first home and my life consisted of feeding them every 3 hours and holding them while Nate was at work, I would often watch documentaries on Netflix. One particular documentary really struck me. It is called "God Grew Tired of Us" and tells the story of the Lost Boys of Sudan. These boys witnessed the murder of their families and walked many thousands of miles to refugee camps in Ethiopia. The US offered citizenship to a select few of the boys. The documentary follows a group as they fly to America and begin working and assimilating into society. These are men who have never had electricity or running water. They waited in lines for hours to receive meager rations. Stick them on a jumbo jet and fly them to NYC- that's culture shock!! 

After I watched this, my whole view of suffering and frustration changed.  As I encountered challenges with the babies, I tried to remember these boys and what they survived.

In the beginning, I distincly remember 2 times this summer where I was so frustrated, so tired, and so angry that I couldn't take it anymore. Once at a gas station and once at Costco.  At Costco, there is a young VERY tall black man named David who greets people at the door. I knew he was African but never thought twice about his background. I was escaping to shop for 15 minutes before returning to my never ending day. I had absolutely had it that day and just wanted to disappear. I finally asked the cashier about David and she told me that he was, in fact, one of the Lost Boys. Most of his family were killed during the Arab raids. Those who weren't killed are missing. He has been trying to find them for years. I walked past him and wanted to cry more for him than for my colicky baby at home. He was standing there with a wide (brilliantly white) polite smile and waved goodbye to me.

While pumping gas a few weeks later, I was in the verge of tears after a terribly colicky day. I was at my limit and could not get myself calmed down.  Then up pulls a carload of young guys next to me. I looked over and there they were- four Lost Boys. I knew this because they had T-shirts on from a Sudanese refugee conference.  I wanted to tell them I could not believe what they had been through and that I admired them, but I just sat there while tears ran down my cheeks.

The past 2 weeks were very rough with all of the RSV. I also had to surrender our cat, Zeus, to the Humane Society because he had peed on one too many down comforters. He is de-clawed so we cannot put him outside. This really hurt my heart because I've had him since he was 5 weeks old and Hercules wanders aimlessly looking for him to cuddle with. They are littermates so have not been separated. Finally, we found out that Nate's sister went into pre-term labor at 34 weeks. Everything is fine but it meant that his parents cannot come to the babies' 1 year birthday party.  Nothing this year has gone to plan and this was final indication that I have absolutely no control.  I envisioned one thing to go as planned but nope, it ain't happening. (Btw-his sister and baby Micah are hanging in there as of today)

So I dropped the kids off in a foul mood today, so angry about the way our last month of Year Zero has gone. And then God did it again. I spoke with another mother who has a baby in Caroline and Natalie's class. I knew her husband was Sudanese and that she was from New Orleans. I asked her about how they met and mentioned the documentary. It turns out he was IN the documentary and was one of the Lost Boys invited for citizenship?!  How amazing is that. I told her I was amazed by his strength and amazed that anyone could survive that. She laughed and said that he gets so mad at their daughter because she doesnt eat much. He had to wait hours for a tiny bit of rationed bread and now his daughter spits Gerber back at him! Here is a link to his story.

God, are you trying to tell me something?! I get it. Aaaahhhh, the desire for control.