Sixteen years ago, your dad and I got married. We had been dating for four years and engaged for nine months, and I knew that there was nothing I wanted more than to be married to this man who I loved so much.
Our wedding day was beautiful-- a perfect day where the sun was shining and people were smiling and everything went off without a hitch. Then we had a few more wonderful days on our honeymoon.
Then we came home and got settled into our apartment, because school was starting again the next day. As I started putting away all of our new gifts, this overwhelming wave of sadness came over me. I'd just had the best week of my life, and if everything went well and I stayed married to this guy forever like I wanted to, I'd never, ever get to have this experience again.
I felt the same way after my babies were born. Yes, the pregnancy was hard, and all of my births were crazy in their own ways, but there was something so special about having those babies growing inside me that I knew I'd miss.
And as crazy as it sounds, because I know we've spent the last eight months apart, with me staring at your face and praying for your well-being every day, and you growing up in an orphanage without a mommy and daddy, I still know that there's a part of this experience that I'll miss when it's done. When we got Rose, I always knew in the back of my mind that we'd be back. But this is it, buddy, you are the end of the line, and I can't wait to have you in my arms.
But the truth is that there's a lot of support in the waiting. Last year, I thought the website China Adopt Talk was the greatest thing ever. I spent every moment I wasn't writing my thesis refreshing the stats and comparing notes with people. But over the last year, most of the conversation has moved to Facebook, and my adoption Facebook groups are an even bigger addiction. I will go for a run and come home to 50 messages, which helps pass the time when I'm home with a toddler all day. The women (and men) are so supportive and friendly, and I love knowing that I'll have a dozen built-in friends when we get to Guangzhou the second week of our trip.
I also know that there's a lot of excitement in the ups and downs of the process. Yes, the wait is terrible, but it is a huge rush when we get to cross one of the letters or approvals off our list. The only list I have left is my packing list, and even that is growing smaller by the day.
Truly and honestly, being home with toddlers has always been a challenge for me. I know that it is good and important and the right choice for me to be home with you and Rose, but it's a whole lot less stimulating than some of the other things I could be doing with my time. So I know that I'm trading this exciting and agonizing time of waiting and rushing and having a huge circle of support, to having you and Rose and me at home most days. It will be a good thing and I can't wait for you to join our quiet little circle, but I think it's important to acknowledge that with any change, there can be things that are a little bit hard.
But you want to know what's going to be really hard? Waiting two more weeks until you are mine. Just nine days until we get on the plane. It can't possibly come soon enough.
I love you, little man.