The Closer I Get…

I’m 12 days away from leaving for Ch*na.  I have this…feeling.  It’s hard to describe, but I remember it from when I went to Ghana to adopt our kids.  It’s a mix of excitement and terror, of longing and apprehension.  It’s like mile 21 and 22 of a marathon (I don’t know about that personally, but FPD tells me those are the two hardest).  As all these emotions surface, and I handle it by withdrawing.

I’m absolutely overloaded.  It’s not just the travel arrangements, the scheduling of doctors appointments, the renting of Oxygen concentrators or the buying of baby bottles, it’s the deja vu that goes with all of this.  It’s the crushing reality of knowing what’s coming for us and what it could mean for our family.

I’m scared.

The emotions of working this hard to get our Dolly home, and then finally being at mile 22 of a 26.2 mile race are choking me.  I now know what it means to adopt a child who has lived in an orphanage.  I know what it means to stare at the poverty she came from and to have no choice but to turn and come home, leaving behind all the other children that live in despair everyday.  I know that when I get home I’ll be a new version of me again.

I know how these experiences change me.

Sometimes, that change isn’t for the better.  I often feel like other people can’t possibly understand, so I fold inward.  I become a little anti-social, and I cut off relationships that I shouldn’t because I can’t focus on anything but where I’ve just been and what I’ve just seen.  Writing helps put this out there.  All these feelings, all these emotions, I know they’re normal.  I know every adoptive parent experiences them, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Change is hard.  For everyone.

who is getting closer.

1 thought on “The Closer I Get…”

  1. Your last paragraph about “folding inward”- I am still there three years later. There are so many people (even/especially) within my own family, who don’t and probably will never understand. So many who don’t even try to understand. And I honestly have no time or energy for those people anymore. Harsh, maybe, but that’s what changed when I went to Ghana, and I can’t go back to the Me that was before that moment. Either accept me the way I am now or carry on with your blessedly easy lives while I try not to shake you HARD until you open your eyes!


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