The labor of adoption

My head is absolutely full.  Overflowing.
T-2 1/2 days.
Really, could I be leaving for China that soon? 
Oh yes you can.

Mimi's bed, in our bedroom and next to our bed, awaits, complete with chenille sheets and flannel pillows.
The toddler bed and mattress, both brand new, we found on Craig's List for a wonderful deal of $80.
Liv picked out the fabrics at the remnant store, and Granna and I made the bedding.   

I wake up each morning, look out on the floor, and wonder who in the world spilled my brains out all over the carpet.  Now how did those get there?


I told myself that this was not going to happen this time.  I have again been proven wrong.

I wish I had the serenity of a peaceful expectant mother, with a glow in her cheeks.
I don't.
My emotions are swinging all over the place.  At one moment I giddy, then the next I swing to stress.  Still much to do. There are lists everywhere.  I'm finally going to hold my daughter in just days!  Will she like me?  Is she ok?  Luggage is spewing from the closets.  So many things to keep track of, and I feel like I might be forgetting to do most of them.  If I can get an entree on the table at night, the family is in luck that day.

This is the labor of adoption.

Worry, fear, confusion, stress, and pain.  Coupled with joy, anticipation, longing, and love.
No different from a biological labor in hind-sight?
I've experienced 4 biological labors, 1 with an epidural, 2 without, (one of those resulted in a 10 lb baby) and 1 with an epidural on only the left side, which let me tell you sista' does not actually constitute an epidural at all in my opinion!  If I'm being honest, biological labor was easier.  Yes, there was more physical pain in child birth, but in international adoption the emotional upheaval lasts longer and can be far more destructive than the pain of child birth.
Top adoption off with some jet lag, a foreign language, 8,000+ miles, some heavy lifting, and a little traveler's bug and voilà!  You have all the makings of an expectant mama whose emotions are swinging faster than 14-year-old teenage girl.

A photo of me as a teenager with my grandmother, and Mazie's namesake sits next to her bed.
This Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus statue sat next to my grandmother's bed for decades.  
Now it sits next to our little Mimi's bed.  My grandmother would have liked that.  

I'm praying regularly for God to give me peace.  For me to be able to feel His hand on me as we start this journey.  To surrender.  I didn't do that very well last time.  I have no doubt that He has equipped me with all I need.  But I have some concern that I'll be able to access all the tools I've been given.  I feel like this beautiful child deserves at least this- a mother who is giddy with anticipation and love that she has longed for.  Maybe this is part of the myth of adoption.  And indeed I am this mother... under a whirlwind of emotions.