Finding It Difficult

 I haven't wanted to write at all since we've come home. Even these words , I am pushing out onto virtual paper because really, I don't want to write. It's easier to keep everything in and not think about all that has me sad, especially during this Advent season. But today I took the time to catch up on the blogs I read, and several women were sharing the sadness they are experiencing right now -- one from a failed adoption, another from a foster child being reunified with her birth family, another with her two beloved children still trapped in an orphanage -- all moms grieving like me.

Last night Nastia cried in my arms until she fell asleep. She is so sad about her sister, and worries that she'll never see her again. ON top of that, she worries that when D finally comes home to us ( God-willing), that he will 'steal' me away from her. It is also just dawning on her that  being eighteen changes things for her in many ways. She hates change.

And I so I held her and comforted her, and the whole while I was thinking how can I possibly comfort her when I am so sad myself? Guess that's just the grace of motherhood at work -- sometimes we have to give despite our own emptiness. And it's not that I am without hope. I do have hope, but it's just that the weight of so many sorrows just gets heavy sometimes and I need to "feel' it before I can move beyond it. This is one of those times.

My heart is grieving about Anya. The sense of failure in my inability to bring her home is really sinking in this week. I try to put her suicide threats out of my mind, but they come to the surface sometimes and I get really scared. I feel like such a failure to her. Even being there for her in person for three months did not accomplish what I had hoped. she needs a mom -- not money or a job or an apartment -- but a mom. I had paid for a month's extra rent on our apartment so she could remain there, but she only lasted two days before being kicked out. Now she is homeless again, and moving from couch to couch, and I look at our couch and think, 'Why in God's name can't she be HERE?' I can't even ponder it anymore. It hurts my brain.

And D --I speak to him every other day and he is so scared I am not coming back. And he is getting a little bullied by the older boys. I left him with a photo album filled with photos of us, our home, our town, family, friends, etc. I found out yesterday that most of the photos have been stolen by the older boys, and he is too afraid to ask for them back. So he asked if I could send him a second album, identical to the first. He asks if I could just come for New Year's Day, and I try to explain to him how expensive that is and how I need to use every penny for his adoption. But he is just a little boy. He wants his mom, and he doesn't understand what the hold up is.

And Dasha...I am sooo grateful she was able to host again, and is arriving tonight. But I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that today is particularly hard. Nastia cried for an hour about it. I just tried to pray and hand the pain over to God. At least with Dasha, I know that she is safe and happy and will be for a lifetime, I believe. but right now Anya and D do not have that. D waits in an orphanage, and Anya waits on the streets. It's just not fair.

So, forgive me. I'll go back to my jolly self in a few days, but today I just need to allow the sadness to just be.

I know I'm not alone. I know that millions of people grieve a hundred thousand different losses at any given moment. As sad as that is to ponder, there is a comfort in it too. We are all in this together. And, I believe, there is a very real happy ending waiting for us after all the pain. It's just a long wait.