Still Here

I thought I would have the emotional energy today to explain what happened yesterday. I don't, so this will be about as barebones as it gets. Sorry for the lack of energy to make it appealing to read.

Stephen took me to the airport yesterday. I checked my bags, went through security, and walked to my gate (the same gate Stephen and I sat at when we left in November).

My phone plan hadn't been renewed because my autorefill was on a card that expired this month. But I didn't want to pay for a phone I couldn't use in Uganda, so I let it lapse yesterday. So, at the gate, I opened up my computer to text Stephen from GoogleVoice letting him know I was safely at the gate.

I got an email from our lawyer in Uganda, saying there is a misspelling on Mirah's official birth certificate, and that the corrected one won't be ready in time for my I-600 filing appointment. He advised that, if I wasn't already traveling, I shouldn't come yet.

This was 9:40a. The email was sent at 9:33a (our time). The plane would start boarding at 11:10a.

Here's where I stop knowing how I feel about what happened. I let those who are invested in this adoption tell me what to do, and I didn't consult my own impression, thoughts, or desires. But I rescheduled my flight (with no extra fees, thank you, United!) for February 9th (which I had to do by calling from GoogleVoice and holding our Chromebook up to my face, like a cool guy). That's really just a placeholder date. I don't know when I'm going.

But when did I start to just lie down and comply? Who even is that? My whole life, I've fought for my thoughts to be heard, understood, and valued. It's not about submitting; it's about making sure the decision I submit to is fully informed and not just someone's preference. I'm just so puzzled at my own behavior. Not that the decision wasn't the right one either; I think only time will tell that.

I was dreading going with no end date, so for that, I'm glad. I don't want to be separated from my boys (and my man) longer than I need to be. But my girls, they matter too. It's been almost two months since I've seen them. And I know changes to the adoption laws are coming soon. We can only delay so long before our adoption (and thus, our family) may be in danger.

I'm trying not to mope, but I don't want to unpack my necessary clothes, and repack them again. I don't want to do this leave-taking all over again. I am really tired. But I'm also getting ready to fight.