Hello,
blog, my dear old friend. It’s been a while, huh? So let’s just catch up where
we left off, shall we? The way that old friends do?
Life
is finally leveling after moving to a new house, celebrating the kids’ birthdays,
and going on a family vacation. And now that Mackenzie is [mostly] sleeping
through the night, I’m finally getting adequate rest, and starting to feel like
me again. The last time I was here, I
wrote about turning a corner with colicky baby Mackenzie. I’m happy to report
that she is now the happiest, easiest baby ever. She is so full of love, joy,
and curiosity. Maddie is doing well, too. She really struggled with intense
anxiety around the time Mackenzie was born, and again briefly last Christmas.
But now, she is happy, healthy, and thriving. She’s excitedly learning her
letters and dying to know what I’m
talking about when I spell words out to Thomas. We are all settled into our new
house and our old house is currently under contract with a closing date in late
July. It was, at times, a rocky road to get to this good place we’re in, but by
all accounts, our lives are pretty wonderful right now.
As
I think back on that dark time we were emerging from the last time I wrote, I
shudder. Mackenzie’s relentless crying, Maddie’s obsessive hand washing, and my
own sleepless fog – it was such a nightmare. There wasn’t much happy going on
then. There was a lot of crying and lot of questioning and a lot of fear. It
was so hard and exhausting.
But….
even on our darkest of days, you know what I never once, even remotely, thought
to myself? I never once thought, This
place that we’re in so dangerous and so scary and so hopeless that we should
leave. This country is in such despair and our lives are in jeopardy, so we
need to grab the children, the clothes on our backs, and flee our home.
I
mean, really, can you even imagine? I
am a genuinely very empathetic person, but I just can’t even fathom weighing
out that pros and cons list with Thomas. So
here’s the plan: we’ll leave at midnight, we’ll be traveling roughly 2,000
miles by foot, train, and then with sketchy smugglers. The trip will take weeks
and we’ll spend every last penny of our small savings. The kids will probably get
sick, our shoes will wear out, and our bodies will be so worn and so weak and
so sunburned. We’ll enter a country where we don’t speak the language and half
the citizens don’t want us there. We’ll have nothing of value left to our
names, but we’ll have each other. And we’ll have a chance at a better life.
Yep, ok, let’s do this.
Can
you even imagine? I mean, why would
people even attempt that? I would guess it’s because things at home are
absolutely that bad. That scary. That painful. And that hopeless.
And
then, could you imagine, that horrifying journey is finally coming to an end.
You can see the border up ahead. The sun is shining and the red, white, and
blue flag is flying. Finally, so close. You can feel the relief and the
excitement and the safety in your bones. Your children are going to be ok.
Tremendous relief as you cross over that border. But suddenly it all comes
crashing down. There are border patrol and sirens and chaos as your children
are wrenched from your arms. You can’t understand anything they’re saying, but
you knew it was illegal to enter the country and it was a risk worth taking. Everything
you had dreamed about is suddenly crushed. Worse yet, your son and your
daughter are taken from you. Your sweet babies. And for weeks, you have no idea where they are. Who is feeding
them? Who is bathing them? Who is holding their hand while they fall asleep?
Are they scared? Are they crying? Are they warm? Are they… alive?
It’s
really just too much for me to bear. The fourth of July has always been my
favorite holiday. I love everything about it – the sun, the bbq, the fireworks,
the patriotism. But something just doesn’t feel right with it this year. My
heart breaks for the families who wanted so badly to celebrate this holiday
too, but are currently separated from one another in an unfamiliar place. I
understand that it is illegal to enter the country unauthorized. I do. I am a
rule follower and I appreciate laws. But I have also never been in a position
to feel like taking the risk of entering another country illegally was the only
way to save my family. I wish it were easier for families to seek asylum. And I
1000% believe that families belong together.
I’m
not entirely sure what my point was in writing this post. I've missed writing, and this topic has been weighing heavily on my mind. I don’t have any
answers and I don’t even have any ways to help. I guess I’m just looking for
some community maybe? To know that I’m not alone in feeling this way? Maybe to
share how my perspective of the “struggles” in my life has changed as I read
stories about families crossing the border. I’m just so eternally grateful for
the life I’m living. If you know of any ways we can help – please share them
with me?
Thanks for writing this. I feel exactly the same way. I have no magic solutions but I feel so strongly that children should never NEVER be separated from loving parents or relatives that have committed no crime other than seeking asylum from worse fates. I can only hope that this outrage will translate into better policies. In the meantime, I call my congressmen (all men...) and donate to groups that are assisting these families (RAICES was my choice). And you better believe I’ll be voting.
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