two more days until our biometrics scanning appointment (the fancy term for fingerprinting) with the fbi. we're at this point, already/finally, which ever way we feel at any given moment; and we're almost through our third major hurdle for the adoption.
with the many years of waiting behind us, it is almost as if we've just found out we're pregnant again. the hopeful moments of testing, and the result will arrive in a positive when we receive a photo and description of our little boy. then will be the day that we visit and sooner will come the day when we have to leave him behind. like the day you see your child's heartbeat for the first time on a monitor, and you anticipate every appointment you will have to view the little face and limbs through a sonogram in the future. we will leave and achingly anticipate visiting again soon. but he will have to stay. he will have to be there, with what he knows, but alone in the world too. and i know i will ache internally. my heart will moan because he is not under it, but he is in it. i can not hold him. i can not nurse his wounded knees when he falls. i can not wipe away his tears.
inside of two years, and hopefully inside of one, we should be able to bring our little boy home.
for now we do the work, we do the planning, we learn his native tongue, and we learn about him - we teach him about us, and we wait. we wait. we wait some more. we watch every storm that will brew in the waters near the island of hispaniola and we hope that he continues to live safely, detached physically, but emotionally completely in tact in our hearts - until the day we can bring him home.
oh can i have the patience? i might explode.
