The morning we headed home from Switzerland, I got a text message from the person watching the dachshunds for us saying that not only did Milly have worms, but they also had enough fleas for her to not be able to sleep because of how many times she’d been bitten and we should probably find a hotel for the night because she needed to tear the place up to try to get rid of them.
This was obviously not welcome news.
Dallin had seen a flea on Joey a couple weeks earlier and we messaged their owners to inform them and ask for their recommendations since they didn’t have their dogs on flea prevention. We picked up flea collars, which seemed like a reasonable option at the time as we weren’t sure how big the problem was.
Teddy had woken up one morning with about 15 bites all over his head and I panicked–not knowing if they were fleas, mosquitos, or bed bugs (Dallin’s worst fear)--and also felt bad that Teddy was bearing the brunt of the bug attack. There wasn’t really much to do besides stress-google various kinds of bites and useless things to do about them. However after the dog watcher ended up with a bunch of flea bites, I’m going to assume they were also the perpetrator against our poor baby’s head.
Anyways, this left us really not wanting to come back from Switzerland because the Berlin apartment was apparently flea ridden and fun fact it was another 99 degree day without AC. We ended up staying at a hotel a couple blocks away from our apartment back in Berlin as the dog watcher went into intense flea-cleansing mode (bagging up and washing literally every piece of fabric in the apartment including all the pillows, wiping all hard surfaces down with various oil vinegar sprays, setting off a flea bomb, etc). We ran over to pick up some clothes for the next day and it looked like a war zone. Seeing the apartment in a state of chaos made me wonder how we were going to survive another week and a half there.
Back at the hotel we ended up calling United using my dad’s special help number to see how much it would be to fly home a bit earlier. It ended up not costing too much, so we decided to change our flight home from Saturday to Tuesday.
Making this choice should have been easy considering the stress of the fleas and the general sense of homesickness I’d been feeling, yet the post-phone call left me crying on the bathroom floor in the dark in our hotel room while trying not to wake Teddy.
I had this overwhelming and irrational sense of failure—like I’d set out to run a marathon and then realized I wasn't actually fit enough for that so I moved the finish line up a few miles. I know a few days isn’t a big difference, but it felt like so much in the moment (both the relief that would come from being home a few days early and the guilt of cutting my time in Berlin a few days short).
One of the really hard things about being abroad so long is that I feel like I have turned into this ball of anxiety that wasn’t part of me before this time. The weight of decision making for our family fell especially hard on me as this was my fellowship that brought us to Germany and I was the German speaker and thus default communicator to the outside world. There were just so many new stressors—getting up early with Teddy who decided 5am was his favorite wake-up time + climbing down a ladder from our loft bed at 2am for a nightly Teddy feeling , making sure the dogs had enough time outside, cleaning up their accidents inside even with enough outside time, deciding what to eat and not having a microwave to easily reheat leftovers, figuring out transportation, feeding Teddy both milk and solids, trying to get my own research work done (which was predictably difficult with a less regular schedule), dealing with bugs, slowly going insane without AC during heat waves…
I’m not sure why my anxiety was so bad in Berlin, and I’m not sure if that anxiety is a part of my Bloomington self now too, or if just being in new places with a baby strapped to me will forever mean anxiety is strapped to me too?
Changing our plane ticket made me feel a bit like a fraud as well. I have always wanted to be someone who was well-traveled and someone who loves adventure and new places and cultures. But honestly one of my favorite parts of traveling is coming home because of the sweet relief of lying down in your own bed knowing where all your things are. So admitting I’d rather be home in Bloomington than in Berlin felt like admitting to myself that at my core I’m someone who craves the familiar rather than the restless wandering soul I want to be.
Anyways, all these thoughts spiraled down on me on as I sat on the bathroom floor that night, but the next day things felt so much better (as they always do). I was happy with the choice to come home a few days early and we went back to our Berlin apartment to help put things together. The physical action of washing, cleaning, and moving things was actually pretty empowering for me and I felt totally capable of finishing the week (which included a nice trip to the aquarium with a visiting friend and a truly lovely visit from my high school exchange partner and her boyfriend, who both live in Munich).
A lot of terrible things happened in the US while we were gone that made me think maybe we shouldn’t live in America if we’ll have to worry about things like our kids getting shot at school + women’s reproductive rights and medical decision-making (not to mention the monetary costs of medical care), a failing reckoning with racism and mass incarceration, the apparent uncertainty of marriage equality… But for every political thing that frustrates me about America, there is no denying I love living there. Is it just because it’s the place I know best? Maybe. By no means is the US better than every other country out there. But maybe I have never felt more patriotic than seeing the Manhattan skyline and surrounding green when we were flying back from Berlin?
I do love this country.
O America, land of soft toilet paper and plentiful AC.
What else do I love?
I love many things about my life that aren’t particular to America, but they all happen to be there right now, so maybe my patriotism is also tied up in the life I have been offered in the US—our lovely home and big backyard, our dog, family close by, community we’ve spent time building, getting to go to grad school and have funding to do so.
The flight home was long but Teddy was pleasant enough so it was okay. We made it back to Bloomington and everything wasn’t as perfect as I dreamed it would be, but the sweet relief of sleeping in my own bed was still incredible. Everything smelled mustier than I imagined and it was also greener than I remembered.
Humid as hell, but Bloomington’s home.
And I love it.
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