Love isn't always enough.

Yesterday morning Blake and I rocked for almost 45 minutes before school while he cried.
The first words out of his mouth that morning were
"Mommy, I need to go back to Ethiopia and see my mom."

Older child adoption is hard.
So worth it, but sometimes it's excruciating.

I hugged him,
cried with him,
looked at every little detail of the pictures of his mom.

I talked about what his grandma looks like,
because we don't have a picture of her.

We talked about Ethiopian food,
Ethiopian music,
Ethiopian siblings.

I tried to explain to him that we can't just go to Ethiopia today.
"After school, Mom?"
No, not after school either.

What kills my heart even more is the unknown.
When we show up in their village 10 years from now...
will his grandmother and mother be there to welcome them home,
or will they have passed on?
Will their brother remember them, or will he have forgotten?
Their one year old sister will most definitely not remember.

How do I sooth my hurting child's heart during these times?
Because there most certainly will be more.
Many more over the years.

Father,
Please heal his heart.
Please give him the comfort that his first mom and I can not give him right now.