Six Months of Separation

At 11:08am, on July 11, 2008, this fabulous bundle of boy became a new fixture of joy in the world. This is the first moment I held him. The first moment I took in the beauty of his being. You cannot see them, but my dear Mother and my dearest friend are standing by me. I cannot thank them enough for being a part of that experience.



This, is said darling boy being cute as he can be, lounging in his car seat while I share some musical magic with him. We are together at for a time I never expected to be granted. His head moves to the music, his hands open and close, showing me that he remembers hearing these notes singing to him, right outside his watery room. Days later, I weep, because I forgot to kiss him one last time.

I have started to leave the building, and I can hear her weeping, too. Behind me, the couple I chose with a full heart to be his Mother and Father, have found a bit of peace during a stormy season. Days later, they will fly him to my homeland, a few short miles from where I was born, to be raised with a foundation I could not build.



So grown up, yet still small enough for me to wrap my arms around and give those kisses that time has stolen from us. Dapper and oh, so strong he is showing me what I can look forward to one month from now. I have watched him change from newborn to infant. Quiet boy who steals your heart with a smile, even though he's only tooting,grows in to a chatty adventurer who laughs like the sun is shining at night. In pictures, he has transformed before my eyes. In pictures, my heart has stitched itself back up, finding acceptance that all is well. He is home.

Today, I am scared, elated, nervous, impatient, apprehensive, confused, sad and happy all at the same time. If I allow myself more than a second of time to pass in thoughts of traveling through the sky to see him again, I get lost. I am no longer sitting, in a chair, in a room. I am floating, in a panic, in my heart. These six months, I have wanted nothing more than to hold him again, while he is still a baby. And now, as that dream is so close to becoming a reality, and I am being forced to face that reality, I am entering uncharted territory. Like the first day at a new school, I am not in control, I have no way of knowing what will happen.

That is not entirely true. I know a few things that will happen: I will cry, I will smile. I will say thank you, I will say I love you forever. I will smell his skin, I will feel his heart beat. I will leave, I will cry.