A Great Divide

It's occurred to me over the past few weeks that I am constantly living in two worlds. My life here is full of hard work, fun, laughs, and so many other things to keep me busy and occupied, but each day, I find my mind wandering to thoughts of a little boy whom I've never met, yet somehow still love and care for from across an ocean. I'll be doing the simplest of tasks, folding laundry or cooking dinner, when I realize that the only things I've been thinking of revolve around Jonathan's recent move to Kinshasa or to the emails I hope to receive with notice of progress on our case or what time it is in Kinshasa and what he might be doing. It's the strangest sensation - missing someone you've never met. 

And today I'll find myself absently checking my email, hoping that before the weekend we'll hear some sort of news or receive a new picture, and each time, when there is nothing there of interest, I feel another twinge of disappointment.

And though I am struggling somewhat, I am trying to remember how lucky we are to be as far along as we are. I speak with parents each week who are stalled in some step of the process or another and realize that we are very close. But as we get closer, oddly enough, the waiting seems to get more difficult. As we get closer, he feels more like our son. And how can I live normally with my own child so far out of my care and control? Each day, he becomes more real and then seems that much further away.