Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Wednesday, the 26th

So there is nothing left to do.  I am just sitting here with Benny on the bed waiting for Fr. Michael to come and get him.

I had wanted to pay Arthur to take care of Benny Michael for me.  I wanted him with someone young and vibrant and firm and creative.  I wanted him in school with other children.  I wanted him with someone I knew, who could access the internet and facebook and post pictures, and message me problems and concerns, and information.  I wanted to have some semblance of control and access to information.  I even considered asking Linda to foster him, but I know that this is her busy time, and a child would not work well into her schedule - especially because she literally just moved a weekend ago.

Father Michael says that he does not need school, that he needs a grandmother to nurture him.  So Father Michael decided that his very own mother should take care of him.  I dread not having any idea what is going on with him, about not having a routine, him not learning or having constant stimulation or socialization.  I packed a huge suitcase of items – everything that I could think of is in Benny’s suitcase – his toys and books, his favorite picture of Jesus, his snacks, towels, bedding, lotions, soaps, a clothing line, toilet paper, diapers, medicines, nebulizer (although she has no idea how to use it – making it completely useless).  It is out of my hands.

When Father arrived, I went over his plans, but what is there to say really?  I grabbed all of his items from the now empty room.  I loaded down Father's trunk with gifts for people in Masaka and Kitovu.  I carefully strapped Benny into the back seat, and handed him his backpack.  He hit the seat next to him, for me to sit down, but I just tried to smile at him.  I squeezed his tiny little cheeks, kissed his forehead and his cheek and whispered good bye in his ear.  “Momma loves you sweet boy.”  I asked Father if he needed anything else from me, and I walked inside.

As a side note, Benny has no idea how to kiss.  My kids always give kisses.  From day one, I would kiss them – their faces, necks, bellies, toes, soles of their feet.  Benny has no idea.  I have a silver and gold 4x4 metal icon that he would always steal from me – Our Lady of Perpetual Help.  I would kiss it at night, and he would put it to his mouth and make a “tsch” noise with his tongue.  He had never been kissed really, no idea how to put his lips, where to put them.  Me kissing him good night was a completely new idea to him, and he would laugh and laugh and laugh.  The same goes for blowing raspberries on his belly.  He thought I was nuts the first time I did it.  It makes me sad just thinking about it.

Once Father got to his mom’s, he decided that Benny should be in school, and there is a school near by that he will take a car or boda boda to.  I gave money to Linda to cover the school for a term, and I will have to wire money for a car.  He had better not go on a boda boda – he is 3 years old.  I saw too many boda boda accidents to ever be happy about that happening – especially at the mental level that Benny is at now. 
I asked Linda to check on him for me.  (She reported this weekend when she dropped off the cash for his school term that he was very quiet, not his normal playful self.  Once she started using my nicknames for him though, he started laughing, and rolling around on the ground.  I am broken.  She also reported that there are 2 other children there as well, a younger one, and one that is maybe 8’ish.  I pray a prayer of protection over him – that he feels safe and secure, that he knows he is loved, that he knows this is temporary.)  Linda will check on him and send me pictures and updates every few weeks, just to help keep me sane.

Even as I do this though, I wonder if it is temporary.  What if the US embassy in Nairobi does not see the case, ignores it, refuses to take it, blows it off, disagrees with the Ugandan government?  The Ugandan government said, “This child was left to die in the grass.  Parents refuse to come forward or be definitively identified as deceased.  Nobody wants this child.  The police released the care to Fr. Michael after 18 months of searching for parents.  Paul and Allison want to adopt him.  They are suitable parents.  They can afford him, will love him, and provide for him.  Therefore Paul and Allison have guardianship over him.  They can adopt him upon returning to the US.”  So what happens if the US government says that I cannot bring a child that I have guardianship of to the US?

Nobody can answer that question for me.  People keep saying it won’t happen.   However, on Sunday night, before my paper filing appointment, I wrote out a worst scenario and best scenario.  And I was rolling through the day 100% in the best case scenario.  And when it suddenly flipped to “horrible”?  Well, let’s just say that this possibility was not even on my radar.  I had no idea that adjudication was a possibility.  I had no idea how to even spell the word to google the meaning.

People asked why I did not stay longer.  Fair question, “because my embassy told me to go home, because there is nothing I can do in Uganda to make this go faster, because I could stay for months longer, and it all still be denied, and then I have to break a 6 month bond with a 4 year old instead of a 1.5 month bond with a 3 year old.” 

I will be headed back to the States in a little bit.  I wanted to shower, and change into clean clothes before sitting on a plane for 24 hours.  It can take 2 hours in traffic to even get to the airport from the capital so I will leave the hotel about 6 PM.  I will land in Atlanta at 3:30 pm on Thursday and be at the baggage claim by 5’ish or even before if all goes well.  I pray that I do not cry the whole way home.  I pray that I can disconnect myself from the reality of not bringing him home.  I pray that the weight of this does not crush me.  I guess we will see.

Accept whatever befalls you.  In crushing misfortune, be patient.
-Sirach 2


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