The Bags are Packed, but not Weighed

We are ready to go. Almost. Another round of winter weather may send us scurrying toward New Jersey tomorrow instead of Tuesday, as originally planned. Our bags have been packed and repacked as we have dutifully studied the weather forecast in Beijing, Nanjing and Guangzhou. Winter coats or not? Two pairs of pants or three? Countless activities for Alex, a bag of antibiotics and over-the-counter medications greater than the amount I have taken in the past ten years. Diapers, in case Cate needs them. Panties, in case she does not. Size 2T, size 3T, no shoes, because, who knows? Fruit leather, granola bars, Goldfish crackers. A small container of formula. Will the blow up travel pillows arrive in time? A good book. A mindless magazine. Have we left enough food for the cats? Will there be ice on Tuesday, or just rain? If there is rain here, will there be ice in the Poconos?

These are the things I must let occupy my mind because it is nearly impossible to comprehend that in seven days, we will be mere hours from holding our daughter for the first time. The little face that is so familiar will be held tightly close to mine. What will she think, this little one who has already lost so much in her short life? What will she think, as she loses all that is familiar for a second time, as her teary-eyed family finally holds her close and says, "We are your family." What will she think?

Yesterday, I had the great joy of visiting my friend, who returned from China with her new daughter on Friday. I am almost without words to describe the emotion of seeing this beautiful little girl, this child we had met through one photograph over nine months ago, run and laugh and play with her two older brothers as if she had always been there in this house, with these boys and her parents. Only when her mama and baba both walked away, and left only me, did I see a flicker of doubt cross her face. But I have seen that flicker on the face of many a child whose parents have gone out of sight for a moment. I left feeling the great joy that this little one had found her way home.

And so, we are ready to go. I am ready. The moments of readying the crib, of basking in the excitement of friends and family, of small miracles that have made this all possible, have been a kind of meditation, a reinforcement of what I have known in my heart for so long, and what Steve knew in the dark moments I faltered... our daughter is waiting for us in China.

It is time to go and bring her home.