The 5 of this month marked my oldest’s 9th birthday. 8 years ago, DH and I celebrated her 1st birthday, though separated from her by 1/2 the world.
It was a bittersweet celebration. We celebrated that someone gave her life. We celebrated our impending parenthood. But we mourned as well. We mourned that she did not have someone to hold her and cuddle her on her special day. We mourned that our joy was at the cost of the most precious bond – that of first mother and child. But we knew that we would celebrate each future birthday fully and thankfully.
Today, the 18th, marks not only my father’s birthday, but also the day that we boarded a plane 8 years ago. This was the day that we headed to China for the first time.
We arrived at our local airport at some horrifically early, the sun was not even up, I did not know there was a world out there, my
body does not recognize anything resembling vertical movement, do my eyes even open, hour of the day. We had to arrive so early because it was only a year post 9/11 and security delays could be huge. You know what?
At that hour of the morning –
there are no lines at baggage check-in,
there are no lines in security,
THERE IS NO ONE
AT THE AIRPORT!!!!!!
And so started one of the most emotionally charged, amazing trips of my life.