Last night I tossed and turned, my new normal. Since a kiddo brought home head lice this week (our first time… aren’t we so lucky?) I spent the night, in part, itching at imaginary (I hope!) lice and in part realizing that in just a few short days I will be holding our little girl again… and forever.
Tomorrow I leave DC so today is a flurry of preparedness. Not surprisingly, I have over packed, because every time I look at my bags with fresh eyes it seems like I have forgotten something that may make the transition easier for a baby taken from all she has ever known.
I will fly over the Atlantic Saturday night into Sunday and land late morning in Germany. On the way there I have a layover in Munich, an airport I am familiar with. On the way home in Frankfurt, which I have never flown through. From Germany to Sofia, just under two hours where a translator will meet me and take me to my hotel. Hopefully jet lag will take over and I can rest before they pick me up Monday morning and we head out to Rosie’s sweet, tiny village in the mountains and scoop her up.
Sweet girl… has that tooth you were cutting, gnawing on daddy’s fingers, come through? Can you sit now? Roll maybe? Will your smiles be as quick and your snuggles be as generous? Will you remember me? Will you trust me as I take you away from the only life you’ve ever known?
Tonight is our last night stateside before everything changes. We will eat pizza and watch a movie, make plans and talk about next week. A little girl will go to sleep, alone, with no idea that everything is about to change for her, but we know. We know that she will never be known by a number again. We know that she will never be alone again. We know that she is no longer an orphan, but a beloved daughter. We know that we have work to do and we know that Nadya Rose is up for the task, the sparkle in her eyes only hinting at the indomitable spirit within this tiny girl, born at only three pounds and 33 weeks.
The end of one long journey, and the very beginning of a brand new one together.
The timing is not lost on me. Noel. A season of birth, a season of hope. A world saved by a baby, our family blessed by a baby, as well.
One more sleep until I am on my way, love.