It’s been just over 2 years. The call is coming any day.
My ringer is set as loud as possible, but I still impulsively check my phone every five minutes. I can’t miss this call. Somehow I’ve missed all the other ones… the one telling us they’d found a placement, the one telling us we’d passed court, and a half dozen other updates. I can’t miss this one.
Her passport arrived. We scheduled your embassy appointment. Time to get your plane tickets.
That’s the call we’re waiting for. And it’s going to change everything.
I’ve flown to India three times in my life, so I already know the travel is brutal. You watch every movie in the queue, but still aren’t halfway there. You can’t sleep, but you’re too tired to read. It feels like it takes days. And that’s when you’re not on your way to finally meet your daughter! This time it will be excruciating! How will I be able to sit still when we’re so close?
I can hardly contain my excitement about meeting her. But I’m also nervous. She’s 2, we’re strangers, and we’re going to be taking her from everything she knows. I need to be steady for her, not a blubbering mess. I need to show her the tender affection she can expect from her mother, without smothering her in my hugs. I hope I can do it.
I’m thankful that Isaac and Reed are so excited to meet her. But I’m nervous for that aspect, too. Isaac is so nurturing and kind. He’s already a great big brother. But I tend to expect too much of him, and know it’ll be tempting for me to be frustrated with him rather than tender as he faces his own challenges with the adjustment. Reed is the wildcard. He has so much love, and so much rage. I’m just hoping he doesn’t roundhouse kick her to the face when she picks up one of his Batman toys.