Waiting

So, I've never been a very patient person - good or bad, I'd just as soon get it over with. Right now, we're done with the paperchase for our fifth and we're just waiting. We're waiting for the dossier to go to DC. We're waiting for it to get to Ethiopia. We're waiting for it to be translated. We're waiting for a court date. We're waiting for travel. We're waiting.... for several more months yet, and that's assuming it all goes well.

It does kinda get to me, which is why my really unhealthy answer is to try not to think about the reality in much detail... because then the not-knowing and the waiting, might just kill me. When you get this close though, its harder to get the thoughts out of your brain: Does she know yet? Have they told her? What did she think? What does her brother think? I can't even imagine that. I had a tough time just writing the first letter - what does one say when they are introducing themselves to their hopefully soon to be school-aged daughter in a letter? I try not to think about what her days are like as she knows they are limited. About the things she will miss, and the things she won't. If she has any kind of clue the upside down her life is going to turn in just a few months. I try not to picture her at school, and with her friends. And I try not to picture her coming "home" each day virtually un-noticed.

I try not to think about what it will be like when she comes home - what do I know of raising a tween daughter? I try not to picture her playing with the girls on the cul-de-sac, and picking on her brothers and being frustrated by her baby sister. I try not to picture another bike in the garage, and where she will hang her towel and how empty the dinner table feels now. I try not to go to the store and search for just the perfect thing to put in her backpack for the plane ride, or what might look good in her hair or wonder what her actual clothing size is.

I try not to think about all these things, but its a pretty hard fight...