It is the day before we leave for China and I can’t sit still. Can’t be fallow or my mind wanders and I doubt and worry. So I’m balancing being still before Father, pressing in to His safe self, and keeping my hands busy so that we are ready to fly away in the morning. But before we go, I feel the need to explain how our lives are going to look when we return.
Many people have been laboring with us through prayer and in other ways to bring our girl home. We long for you to know her and show her in person the love you have expressed through action. But our first concern is going to be helping her adjust, grieve and understand that we are her family and we are not going anywhere. Her whole world is going to be turned upside down in six days. I ache for that. But there will be beauty from ashes, I know. There will come a day in the near future where she will feel safe with us and will recognize that we are hers. Until then, we will severely limit her exposure to the outside world. It will be important that we alone feed her, comfort her, hold her. This is what every study on adoptive children says to do. It goes against my grain. You know I love throwing my doors open and welcoming people in. But I will stifle that impulse until our bonding is sure and strong. Our first priority is her well-being.
Please understand if we live behind closed doors for a time (could be weeks or months) when we get home. And even when you see us venturing out and showing her our world, please allow us to be the ones to feed, hold, comfort her. My parents, who are traveling with us and are the most hands-on parents imaginable, cannot even hold her until she is well bonded with us. It pains me to think about it. Our girl was left outside a shopping mall when she was days old. She has been raised in questionable surroundings, getting less than stellar care since she was months old, but her foster parents are the only mama and baba she’s ever known. We are about to steal her away from that and take her to places where nothing and no one is familiar. I could weep thinking of it.
So, as we cocoon, we ask for space to help our baby adjust. We will let you in eventually. You know we will let you in. Until then we covet your prayers and we commit to trying to update you as much as possible so that you can watch this process unfold. We have said often in the past weeks, there is a whole community of people will be birthing with us next Monday, who have labored these past nine months. We bless Father for the Body. It has lifted us high. You are our people and we are so thankful for you.
This is me being real. Off to google how to do a stylish high bun. I’m sweating just thinking of the heat and humidity there. And asking that all photos be taken from the neck up. I have no idea what I’ve packed. It’s irrelevant. And wondering if they sell terry cloth shirts so I can mop up the tears I spontaneously burst into these days. Deep breath. Prayer. Chocolate. Repeat.