Best Weekend Ever

Today, Eva comes home.  She has been gone for twenty-nine days.  Twenty-nine of the longest days of my life.  I have been here in the midwest while she is across the country in California, and all I have been able to do is pray and hope she is not being mistreated.  All I have been able to do is pray and hope that she is getting loving attention.

Today, though, before I lay my head on my pillow to sleep, I will KNOW she is perfectly safe and happy.  I will KNOW that the person caring for her sees her as the amazing girl that she is and always has been.  That is such a good, comforting thought. 

I’m not sure if it’s the screwed up first trimester hormones or if it’s just anxiety, but I have been having awful dreams about her being away.  The latest dream involved my husband and I picking her up at the airport.  She immediately spewed all kinds of questions at me with horrible insinuations, such as I made her father move so far away because I’m selfish and I refuse to share her.  I don’t speak ill of her father in her presence, and even in my dream I wouldn’t tell her what I really thought of all her new questions.  She wouldn’t even speak to me or my husband for the rest of the dream.  We rode home in complete silence, with her face set in anger.  I was, of course, driving with silent tears streaming down my face.  Nightmare doesn’t cover it. 

Her father has changed the pick up arrangements for this evening twice now.  I actually had an entire thought process of at what point do I call the police.  I don’t really think that is something I should be worried about, but I still feel the need to have a contingency plan in place.  I wonder how many other parents go through this same “in case of kidnapping” planning.  He’s a terrible communicator and always has been, but I am just so anxious to lay eyes on her and see for myself exactly how she is that I don’t know if I have the patience to sit around and wait for him to properly communicate with me.

I realize this doesn’t sound like the best weekend ever, but all of this worry and stress will be worth it the moment I get to see her and kiss her and hug her and pick her up and swing her around.  I don’t care if she thinks she is a grown up at age six, I know she will be just as happy with my attention and affections as I will be to give it.  Only a few more hours before I can take a deep, calming breath as I hold her in my arms!

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