Tomorrow at 6pm, I'll be getting on a plane and traveling for 2 days to get to my son. To say that I am a mix of emotions would be the understatement of the year.
First off, I am crazy excited. (And a little just plain crazy, too!) I can't wait to see Miles, touch him, hug him. I think part of me won't really feel like he is real until he is in my arms. I am so curious about what he's like. I wonder if he's as calm as he looks in his pictures or if he will be a wild man like his brother. I wonder if he'll babble in Swahili. I wonder how big he will be. Can he crawl? Will he be a good eater or a good sleeper? It is nothing short of strange to me. When Sadie and Noah were 7 months old- I knew every single minute detail of their lives. With Miles I know nothing, except that when I look into his eyes, I see sadness.
That sadness scares me a little. I look at his eyes and all I see is loss. In his short little life, he's lost both of his parents. He's been moved from his home. He's been abandoned. He was placed in an orphanage full of strangers and noise. And just when he was maybe getting used to that, he was pulled out and put into foster care. And while I know that his foster family is very loving, I hate that it has yet been one more transition for my baby boy who has known nothing but loss in his life.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, I feel guilt. While my head tells me that this will be a much better life for Miles Dieudonne, I can't help but feel guilty that I am about to pluck him from the only life he's ever known. I'll be taking him away from his country that is both the most beautiful and most tragic. I'll be so happy to take him away from the tragedy, but that is all part of his story- that is his country. I am afraid that I will be taking away a part of Miles that I can't replace. Nothing will look the same to him. Nothing will smell the same. Nothing will feel the same.
I can't even begin to put into words how immensely I love that little boy. I love him just like I love Sadie and Noah. I love him simply for his existence. I love him for the awakening he has stirred in my heart. But to him I am simply...a stranger. A stranger who is madly in love with him, but still a stranger.
When I see him for the first time, I wonder if he will want me or if I will scare him. I wonder if he will feel safe. I hope that he will feel loved and wanted. Oh so wanted. Miles Dieudonne Terry- YOU are wanted. I wonder what it will feel like in Congo to see all those little sick and hungry children who are not wanted. How can I turn my back on them? How do I look at my Miles while walking through the orphanages in Kinshasa and not feel guilty that we couldn't give them all a home? In so many ways I am rejoicing at the little life that will come home to be with me forever, while in that same heart beat I feel that I am condemning the others to a life of hardship, starvation and loneliness. It is the ultimate high and low.
I think sometimes the heart and mind do what they have to do to get through. I am trying to suppress the rest while letting the joy overflow and bubble to the surface. Because in 30 little hours I'll embark on the journey that will change me forever. In a few little days I'll be (oh my goodness!) getting a baby! I'll be holding that precious little child who has had the heart of our family for months. I can't wait to meet him. I can't wait to shower him with love. I can't wait to bring him home and begin our lives together. I can't wait to complete our family. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. Miles homecoming is not the end. This is only the beginning...
*I will be trying to post from Congo, but bad connections and lack of electricity don't always make that possible. But check back- I'll do my best!