The United States Military has requested that President Obama authorize another 500 troops be sent to Iraq, in support of an operation to take Mosul from ISIS. That means that around 6,400 military members (temporary or otherwise) would occupy the country, if the additional manpower is approved. As a veteran of the Iraq War and a military wife, I am not surprised that it has come to this. It has been almost a decade since I've been to the Middle East, but at the time I questioned why the President pulled all the troops out just before his reelection in 2012. Obviously, I answered my own question relatively quickly.
As a military family, we have grown accustomed—well, I suppose the word is actually immune—to the constant occupancy in the Middle East. It is something we have dealt with for years, seemingly with no end in sight. We roll with the punches, hoping for real change and peace over there, but without holding our breaths. My Husband continues to serve, thinking of it as an honor, and our daughters and I are proud of him for it.
The deployments are not far and few between as we would prefer, but they aren't unexpected. This is the life we chose, and we own up to that. No one told us it would be easy, and knowing is half the battle. What I didn't know is that I would learn more about fellow Americans, myself, our marriage, our children, and life in general during and after these deployments, than I ever have in any other era of my life.
Fellow Americans—we couldn't do it without you.
It is possible that many civilians don't realize how grateful veterans, as well as active service members are for their efforts. It's also possible people are unaware just how much fellow Americans do for veterans, service members, and their families. Churches, support groups, schools, and private businesses have done wonders for me and my family. In fact, I never had to buy a toiletry item or any snack food while I was deployed. This was because our first Sergeant's office was like an extremely well-stocked marketplace for those things, due to the overwhelming surplus of care packages from American civilians stateside. One could find anything from toothpaste, to board games, to jolly ranchers, in those boxes. It made us feel like we were appreciated, and it took a lot of the stress out of our lives having those things on hand. Operation Gratitude, Operation Shoebox, and Support Our Troops are just a few of the organizations out there doing an amazing job of making our service members feel they are not forgotten.
We have always felt supported by most of our community, and that has taken the edge off of the high-stress life we lead. Thank you.
I can make it through any hardship, if I remember to stop stressing over things I cannot change.
It was a rather helpless feeling when he left for months on end without my permission, and really without knowing exactly when he would return. The uncertainty and lack of control of the situation ate at me at the beginning of the deployment and at the beginning of every single deployment before that. Furthermore, getting used to being the only one there for my children, and attempting a new routine to accommodate that fact, took some getting used to. It wasn't quite single-parenting, but it was a far cry from what I'm used to. I had to pick up the slack that he (a very hands-on Dad who helps around the house) left behind. Simultaneously, I worried about his safety and psyche while he was on the other side of the world.
Though, as soon as I got into a routine, and stopped being angry at the world, things got better, as they always do. I kept myself busy with our kids—who needed even more than before their Dad left. By keeping busy with organization projects, writing, photography, and the kids' extracurriculars and schooling, time started to pass more quickly. Eventually, I forgot what it was like to have him around, though I still missed him dearly. We wore shirts and then swapped them through the mail for one another to use as a pillow case, because I had even forgotten his scent.
Everything breaks when they leave.
This is a well-known truth among military wives. In the 193 days that my Husband was gone this last time, the garbage disposal, hot tub, kids' table, dining room bench, 2 closet doors, the air conditioner, and a couple other electronics broke. Additionally, I had to replace all 4 tires on both vehicles, and change out the battery in my SUV. Most of these things were fixed by the time he returned—and nothing of note has broken since. Predictable.
Our children are strong.
Often I find myself explaining how resilient kids are, but deployments really drive that point home. Though the first few weeks were rough on my three daughters, they persevered, and found ways to still feel close to their Dad. They drew pictures of him, wore his shirts to bed, and had a ball talking to him via video chat. My oldest would text funny jokes to him, and my two youngest hung photographs of him on their bedroom wall. For the most part, their behavior did not change, and instead of getting angry, they marked off days on the calendar, looking forward to the day he would return.
Reintegration is almost as difficult as saying goodbye.
The day he came home after this past deployment, I was super anxious. Over the prior few weeks I had done extra workouts, I had my nails manicured, and I tried on a million dresses—then settled for the one I had originally bought for the homecoming months before. I even got eyelash extensions. Still, I was nervous after over six months of being separated. It was almost like a blind date. My heart pounded, and my hands shook. Alas, he ran to us in the airport, scooping up his kids first. Then, me. After all the hugs and kisses we had dreamed about the entire deployment happened, we went home to start getting back to the life we had built prior to his assignment.
But we couldn't get right back to it. He was used to being alone and only having to fend for himself, without any sort of physical human touch. I was used to being independent and caring for 3 kids all on my own. We had forgotten our regular duties and schedules. He was pulled this way and that by his daughters and I. Even though he was glad to be home, it was obvious to me that it was overwhelming him. It was also difficult for him to switch gears from mission-oriented to home life. It was like he did not know where he fit in anymore, and when he thought about all the things that had gone wrong while he was absent, he praised me profusely. I didn't feel as if I had accomplished much—what was I supposed to do? Sit on my ass and let everything go to hell? Why am I being praised for doing my job? I felt unworthy of his pats on my back. I wanted him to know we still needed him, but it was okay if he needs time to fully acclimate.
As he adapted, and slowly returned to his normal self, I was a little impatient. I had waited for his return for so long, and even though he was physically home, I still felt like I was waiting for him to arrive. It was frustrating, to say the least. After the first week, I recognized that I needed to be more patient, and enjoy that he was home, regardless of the difficulties during transition. After all, we had done this many times before, and we could overcome reintegration obstacles again, I rationalized. He just needed time.
And then we overcame those obstacles. Almost out of nowhere. He has been home for over a month now, and both of us are back to normal. I thank God everyday for it. Though we aren't ready for his next unaccompanied assignment, we know that there is no way to be ready. There are only ways to cope. With optimism, community support, and patience, we'll keep on keepin' on.
