and then...

I got on a plane a year ago today to meet my sweet Lucy.  Right before I left, just last year, I was thinking these things:

Lucy, I’m trying to be so grown up here, being your MOTHER and all, but I’m just gaga. I can’t focus, I can’t sleep, I ramble and get off track and cry and laugh hysterically. I’m SO crazily happy to be coming to see you so soon. One week from today I leave. A week from now I’ll be on the plane with Mumsy somewhere over the Atlantic, getting closer inch by inch and mile by mile to…

You.

If I wasn’t leaving soon, I think I’d hop in a boat and paddle through the waves, and then chop my way through the dense central African jungle, and then trudge through Ethiopia’s desert and then climb up the beautiful mountains around Addis Ababa, then crawl through the busy city until I found …

You.

And then….

I’ll see you. I’ll know you from the second I lay eyes on you because I’ve stared and stared at your sweet face. I’d know those beautiful lips and precious eyes and fabulous hair from a mile away! I’ll see you, and walk on over, and one of your nice nannies will hand you to me. I’ll just touch your skin, and then scoop you up. Oh my, how I’ll squeeze you. I’ll kiss your precious little cheek and stroke your pretty curly hair. I hope it won’t embarrass you, but I’m fairly certain I’ll cry. I’ll just be so happy and happy and then a little more happy that we’re together at last. I might not put you down for days. (I hope you don’t get too tired of me!)

I can hardly bear to wait! I want to hold you Lucy, and love on you! I love you so. So much, already.