On Our Way

We’re on our way. I’m sitting on the plane as I write, filled with wonder that this day has actually arrived. Paperwork has been approved, bags have been packed, preparations have been made, and we’re actually on our way to see our son. It feels surreal, dream-like.

We were up late last night packing, cleaning and generally flitting nervously about. The air was pregnant with anticipation and if I’m being honest, a little bit of anxiety. Alex translated her nervous energy into helpfulness, asking repeatedly what else she could pack or clean. Caleb’s nerves came out in loud sound effects and a teensy bit of orneriness about whether or not I had packed his favorite tattered and stained red bathing suit (FYI - I gave in and packed the wretched thing). Michael was mostly mellow, like always.

Unfortunately, my anxiety turned into a short temper and I may have had to issue some apologies this morning.

In spite of our nervousness, we did manage to relish a few moments of the preparation. When we tucked the kids in last night, we realized that it was our last night in the house as a family of four. So, Mike and I snuggled up with the Alex and Caleb and lingered an extra long time in their rooms. We marked the moment in our minds and allowed the full emotion and excitement of adding to our family wash over us.

Highlights from the Airport this morning:

1) We saw the first bit of divine intervention when we checked in at the airport today. We shared that we were traveling to pick up our adopted son, and the ticket agent checked our bags all the way through to South Africa. We were supposed to pick them up in Atlanta and go through security again. Those of you with kids understand what a HUGE pain in the butt that would be.

2) Because we delight in growing the character of our children, we thoroughly embarrassed

Alex and Caleb by hand carrying packs of diapers through the airport. We’re bringing them to the orphanage to donate. Let’s just say neither child would allow me to photograph them anywhere near the diapers. My taunts of, “Come on, let me put this on Facebook…” were in no way amusing to them. They acted like the diapers had been laced with arsenic.

It’s such a relief to be sitting on the plane, knowing that everything is done - or if it’s not, there’s nothing I can do about it now.

Now, only 22 more hours of travel to go.