Time is flying by! And this guy is pure sugar. Happy 2 months Bishop Kilima! Highlights from this month: being diagnosed with reflux and thankfully having a prescription to help B’s body heal and start feeling better (finally not screaming all day 🙃), graduating from our lactation consultant appointments! 🙌🏻, starting to take more walks as mama’s body is recovering well, going to lots of parks while big brothers and sister play, first smiles 😍😭, sleeping longer through the night 👍🏻, starting to grab and hold onto our hair (or daddy’s beard) 😬, all newborn clothes have been rotated out of the closet and fitting into 3 month sizes, weighing over 12lbs and loving nursing 🤱🏼. Bishop, you are a joy! You’re gonna move mountains, my Mountain-Man! 💙👶🏼
This was the very last video I took in Tanzania as we drove to the airport. God answered my prayer and let Kili-girl show off in all her splendor: a sweet goodbye for my heart. Today, I miss home. And it’s weird to even say that word: “home”. Is it still home? We now call this place that we are now living “home”, but we still miss the home we’ve known in Tanzania everyday. My kids still talk about wanting to go back and cry over how much they miss our home. Transition is weird. And hard. And sometimes the home sickness sneaks up on you. For me, it was today. As I peeled clean, white-shelled boiled eggs, I was flooded with the thoughts of buying local eggs from our shop around the corner, shells all shades of browns, blues, and greens, almost always with chicken poop and feathers stuck on them. I miss it. I miss our home and our road and the sounds of life all around. We’ve been back in the US for almost 9 months. And it just seems too crazy for words. I mean, I’ve finished growing and delivered an entire human being since we’ve arrived—one in whom I’m nursing at this very moment. And it breaks my heart that he won’t know Tanzania as home like the rest of us. It’s too crushing for words. We don’t know what our future in Tanzania looks like right now. There is still much heart-work to do. But our hearts and minds for family-based, ethical orphan care is still very much alive. Who knows what God is going to do... we’ll just have to continue taking it one day at a time. Until then, we trust and we lean in and we try to embrace this new reality of ‘home’, right where we’re at.
I have a question... and this one is geared towards adoptive parents, specifically those with bio kids AS WELL AS adoptive children who are persons of color. ... Do strangers, acquaintances, or those you might know, ever make (overly) positive comments about your adoptive child, gushing over how great they are etc., even offering to do/buy things for them, but fail to ever really notice or recognize your other (bio) children? Is this a thing for any of you? If so, why do you think this is? I have my own theories as I have experienced this type of interaction quite regularly with my kids since moving back to America. I’m just really curious. I don’t really ever post things of this nature, but I know that there are several of you who’s families are also transracial, so I’m interested to hear some thoughts. Thanks! 🧐 #adoption
