Adoption is hard.

Adoption is hard. 

There. I said it.

 And I can promise it won't be the last time I say it, as we are only just getting our feet wet in the process of bringing our daughter home. And while the paperwork and the waiting is hard, this time I'm specifically talking about the mom part of adoption. 

I long to see my girl. 

I long to hold her. 

I can't wait to squeeze her little cheeks and hug her all day long. 

Me, very preggo with Hollyn

When my other daughters were growing in my belly, I was not in complete control. 

No mom ever is. 

BUT, I could make good choices--

 I could eat right, take prenatals, wear my seat belt, avoid roller-coasters, drink lots of orange juice, 

and go to the doctor at the slightest sign of ANYTHING abnormal (and I did. Sorry bout that, Dr. Pearson). 

Emily is my daughter, but I can do none of these things for her. 

Instead, I sell t-shirts and plan giveaways and fill our paperwork....lots of paperwork. 

And I worry. 

Assuming things go as planned, Emily is already born. 

She's in Africa right now. 

Will she eat today? 

Will anyone be there to hold her when she cries? 

Does she have malaria? 

Is she with her mother? 

I so hope she is. 

I hope she has as much time with her birth mother as possible.

 But I don't know. 

And I probably never will. 

And that's hard. 

I am not necessarily a control freak.

In fact, in most areas of life, I'd say I'm anything but.

 But in adoption I have NO CONTROL AT ALL, and that's hard.

 I can't take care of her. 

I can't make sure she gets what she needs to grow and be healthy.

 I can't comfort her. 

I can't protect her. 

And no one understands. 

I don't live in an area where international adoption is booming. 

In fact, I don't know of anyone else in my area who has adopted internationally.

 Even more, I don't know of ONE other family in our state that has adopted

 from the DRC or is in process of adopting from the DRC. 

And while I have some of the most wonderful friends ever,

 I don't have any close, real life friends who have adopted internationally.

 I say REAL LIFE FRIENDS because I have several close friends I have met through the wonderful blogging community who are in process or have littles home already. 

Several of which are Congo moms like me...thanks for answering that prayer, Jesus. 

And while I am so thankful to be able to hop on the computer and get my questions answered,

 it's not the same as sharing a cup of coffee with someone else who really gets it. 

Adoption is hard.
And like I said, this is only the beginning. 

But I find comfort in the fact that while I'm sitting here stressing over fundraisers 

and posting t-shirt pics 'til I can post no more, 

I know that God is pathing the way for Emily to come home to us. 

She will be worth every fear, every hard moment, 

every feeling of isolation, every moment of worry,

 every tear that's been shed, and every sleepless night. 

But that doesn't make this part any easier. 

Do I ever doubt that this is God's plan? 

Absolutely not. 

In fact, I believe that the best things in life don't come easily. 

But that doesn't mean it's not difficult. 

And I already appreciate the nine months of pregnancy, when you know that, Lord willing, you will wait no more than forty weeks to see your baby's face. That's something I totally took for granted when I was pregnant, but now I realize that sometimes timelines are such a blessing. 

If only adoption came with the same guarantee....