Our huge dossier landed in Haiti 548 days ago. Here is a picture of the gal at the UPS Store weighing it.
See how amused she looks? I think it's because my huge UPS bills gave her store the revenue boost needed to earn her the free trip to Hawaii.
I last held my two little boys 543 days ago.
Our files made it out of the Haitian process 108 days ago. Kinda sorta. I guess our files loved the passport office so much that they decided to go back for a third visit.
I remember back in March, when things started to seem endless as we were approaching the 10 month mark (my naivety makes me blush), I clearly remember blogging that I was going to put a "date" out of my mind and just be glad that they'd be home by Thanksgiving.
Crap. Why the heck did I have to write/think that? It should have occurred to me then how I would feel at this moment now, sitting here and knowing that Thanksgiving is around the corner.
My boys are not.
I have NO idea how many days until we get our boys. None. I'm no longer green enough to predict how long it will take us to get correct passports, or when the DNA test will be done, or when we could get Visas.
Counting all these "yesterdays" is a morose thing, but some days I can't help myself.
Most days I breeze right through. Wondering if it is my faith or my clinical psychological detachment that keeps me level and sane.
Some days I think about what I am missing, and I get weepy. Or mad. Both, really.
Some days I wonder if they will ever really come home.
Some days I sit and think about all the awful things that could happen to our files and prevent them from coming home.
Some days I think of all the potential trials, problems, issues we face in bringing home "older" children and I wonder, What the heck am I doing??? Fear will try and control your life, you know, if you let it.
I have no point to this post. No eloquent or uplifting thought to end it.
It's just a post about numbers really.