It's been an emotional few weeks. After Trump signed the executive order: "Protecting the nation from foreign terrorist entry into the United States," we were certain that we would not meet our child for at least 120 days. Now, with federal Judge James Robart's ruling that granted a temporary restraining order (yay Washington state!), we may meet our child in the near future. Yet, with the Department of Justice's appeal and the current hearing at the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, I just don't know what to think anymore. If I get excited that our child might be here soon, I'm likely to have these hopes dashed by another ruling, hearing, or order. It's all just so out of my control; I'm feeling confused, anxious, and uncertain, but also excited, hopeful, and nervous.
Most of all, I'm absolutely ready for our child to be here, in our home and part of our family. This past weekend, it snowed and our neighborhood looked beautiful. We went for a walk with our dogs (Nala who was born in sunny, equatorial Kenya, strangely loves the snow!) and I couldn't help but think about how much better our snowy walk would be if our child was here. I could show him or her how to make a snowman or we could beat David in a snowball fight in our backyard.
As we wait to know more about when our child will arrive, I do what I can to prepare for their arrival. I picked out paint colors for their room and stocked our kitchen with foods that they might like. I'm reading book after book about foster parenting. Everyday, I daydream about the moment when we get the call that our child is arriving at the airport and the feelings of hope and encouragement that come along with this image, get me through the days of uncertainty. Until that day, we wait.