Brutal Honesty

I will probably delete this post in a few days, so that Zinabu never knows I wrote it, but the last 48 hours have been some of the hardest of my life. If I didn't post on April 30th about how wonderful everything was going, I wouldn't believe it. Zinabu continues to vomit and run a fever. We have antibiotics for him, but I was only able to give him his first dose and have it stay down this afternoon. Today he was so sick he began associating our house and family with his illness. He tried to get into our van and he started crying the most mournful cry you've ever heard. He wanted to go back to Ethiopia...and who can blame him? The language barrier is so difficult when he's sick. There is NOTHING I can do for him except be there. He is angry at us, but he also wants me to hold him all the time. He was so clingy I couldn't even put him down to clean up the vomit on our floor.

I have hardly spoken to Carver and Lily, as they stand off to the side and cover their ears at Zinabu's cries. I try to be there for them, but it's impossible. I miss them, and I don't know how to express that. I have to believe Zinabu will start feeling better at some point...that I will actually sleep and brush my teeth at some point...that he will forgive me at some point for forcing medicine into him.

This is the part of adoption that I want to be bold and talk about. Everyone around you is so happy at the arrival of your child, it's easy to forget that this is when the hard work starts. Let's get real--I love Zinabu, but right now I am a nurse with no pay or shift change. Zinabu and I have no relationship. He does not trust me. He does not even like me very much. Of course it will get better in time. But for right now, the brutal honesty is that I am at my wit's end.