My cute girls have created an advent calendar. They pull off a number each night. Last night they pulled off the 26. I knew the time was getting closer, but putting up a 6ft banner in the house made me anxious. Part of me wants the numbers to come off faster. Part of me thinks they are coming off too fast. I go back and forth. This adventure has been 10 months in the making. Many people compare it to a pregnancy. I have only been pregnant once and it last 25 weeks, but I understand the analogy. I have enjoyed being "pregnant"--getting the room ready, buying clothes, and everyone congratulating us on the upcoming arrival of our little one. Our Gotcha Day is scheduled for the 27th of October. Am I ready? Do I have everything I need? But the truth is, these are the easy questions. It's the hard ones that are causing me to have stomach aches and filling up space in my head. He's not an infant, he's 5. Thats 5 years of living in an orphanage. 5 years with no mother or father. No one to dry his crying eyes, hold him, rock him, cuddle him, spoil him. No one for him to learn to attach to. Teach him that life is good. That there will always be food in the kitchen, a warm bed to sleep in, loves when you stumble and fall, family time, and kisses at night. 5 years is a long time. When no one cares that you're crying, you stop crying, stop attaching. It's a cold place and I pray I can help him feel the warmth again.
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