Jet lag, fatigue, and the buildup of years of waiting made our airport homecoming perhaps the most surreal moment of my life, outside of meeting Gideon. I always imagined I would cry, sob even, but adrenaline was pumping through my whole body, and I remember rounding the corner of security, looking out over the huge crowd of people waiting for us, and just feeling this enormous relief. It was like my entire being exhaled, like everything in me could finally rest, because my baby was finally on the same side of the world as us. Our little family had made it. Through big surprises and hard diagnoses, delays and disappointments, deep joy, indescribable peace, and more tears than I could ever count, we had made it. And we were home.

Gideon was placed in our arms 4 months ago today, and we still haven’t posted his photo on our blog. For those of you who have been following our blog since the beginning and waiting so patiently to see our boy’s beautiful face, we are so excited to introduce you to Gideon Jaewon Troyer!

We’re leaving for Korea. Tomorrow. At 6:40 a.m. At 6:40 a.m. tomorrow, our flight takes off for Dallas, and then on to Incheon, and our lives will never, ever be the same. This is the last night in our home as a family of two. This is the last night Ellie the Cat will sleep with us on our bed, completely oblivious to the tiny human about to rock her world (and ours).

I’m crying as I write this, because I hurt for Gideon. Not because I pity him, but because I know the pain that this life carries. This world is fallen, broken, aching, and it won’t stop being so until Christ returns. And I can’t keep Gideon from hurting, no matter how willing I am to take that hurt myself. There will be times when sitting with him through the night is all I can do. I can see the road that lies ahead, but there are many turns and switchbacks, questions we don’t have answers to yet, and while that isn’t scary to me, it’s heavy.