Dear Little B,

This is my fourth and final love letter before you come home. I've written one every year to you. In my previous letters I didn’t know who you were, but I loved you. Now, you have a name, a cute little face, huge gorgeous eyes, a sweet personality and a precious heart that is ours to care for and nurture. We knew those were coming, but now that we’ve met you and held you we have fallen more in love. We still don’t know for sure whether we will bring you home next month or the following, but the important part is you ARE coming home.

Little B, did you know, your Moo Moo (Daddy’s mommy) texts regularly every Tuesday morning or at the lastest Tuesday afternoon after our weekly call to find out how our call was with you? Did you know, your Gammi (Mommy’s mommy) has souvenirs waiting for you from her and Poppy’s most recent cross country trip last month? Multiple people have given financially to help you come home. Many have bought and are still buying T-shirts to wear in support and contribute to bringing you home! So many people have invested in you. You are on people’s minds and in their hearts. You are already our child. You are loved by so many. So, many people are ready to meet you.

We can NOT wait to bring you home. You will get to meet your sweet sisters, who desperately want you here with them. Your picture is already up in their room in two separate places. I can’t wait to do simple everyday things with you. Things that in time we will take for granted, like sitting with you in your room, having dinner together as a family, helping you cut and eat your food, playing games, running in the yard, playing in the sprinklers, holding you in my lap, holding your hand when we walk, buckling you into your car seat and rocking you to sleep. I can’t wait to show you all the love we have to offer. You have so much waiting here for you with us. But, I know these blessings will come at a price.

Your caregivers who love you dearly will miss you. You will miss them and look for them. We will pick you up from the orphanage and take you from the only people and place you’ve ever known. We will drive three hours back to a new town where you will spend a week and a half in new surroundings with us--people you have only spent four mornings with about four months ago. You may initially reject me, daddy or both. You may struggle to sleep. You may revert to institutional behaviors. You will endure a long plane ride home. Your schedule will be completely upside down. You will be confused, tired and scared. You will be surrounded by different people, smells and sounds. Once we get back you will have new people added to your life again. More new surroundings, smells and food. Your room will be especially quiet after sharing a room for your entire life with about 8-10 other children. We may all sleep together until you get used to it. You will have to learn new words to communicate. Your diet will change. You will have emotional challenges and we will face them with you.

On the flip side, you will have freedom you’ve never had before. You will go outside the walls of your new home for more than just doctor’s visits. You will ride in a car! After a while the giddiness you show whenever you see a car will dissipate. You will get to explore outside and walk or crawl in the grass. I’m pretty sure the first time you were ever in grass was with us a few months ago. You will not be primarily confined to one room or even just a crib. You will have opportunities to see new places, visit the ocean, see the mountains, ride in a car and have your very own toys. You will have the freedom to eat when you want to and not just when everyone else does. You will have unconditional love that is consistent and forever. You have been CHOSEN, chosen for us and by us! You will be a permanent part of a family, YOUR family. You will be introduced to a loving Heavenly Father that has adopted all of us into His family. You will have a place to belong, a place to call home and people who will never leave your side.

Tuesdays have quickly become my favorite and least favorite day of the week. Easily my favorite because of seeing your sweet face and the sheer joy you express each time we first show up on Skype. You gasp with excitement, then you launch into showing off. Showing us how you play with your toys, pretending to dramatically look for cats and proudly showing us how well you can throw things to the ground. You throw things with gusto. For 30 minutes, we are transported into a little world with you, us and your sweet caregiver. I’ve literally tried to reach through the screen and tickle you. You feel so close. We have this limited amount of time and there is a semblance of being together. It’s so surreal.

Then we say “Caio” and disconnect. With that simple click, reality crashes onto my heart and it hurts. We warp speed from being face-to-face to 5,000 miles away from you. I’m sitting at my farmhouse table in North Carolina. The one I built with your Poppy, in preparation for your arrival and future additions. I’m surrounded with little toys we used during the call to catch your attention and no one to play with them yet. Your Daddy and sisters are here, but you, our little boy, is across the ocean. We all deflate a little after the call, eventually the girls run off, Daddy goes to work, and I stare at the computer screen. While I know you’re mine, legally, you aren’t mine quite yet. With your first gasp of excitement, my heart leaps. Then you smile, blow kisses and the minute we disconnect, my heart breaks. I miss you on Tuesdays more than any other time during the week. On Tuesdays, we see who we’ve filled out mountains of paperwork for, who we’ve prayed for, and who we’ve been waiting for. On Tuesdays, realize I’ve missed two years of your life, then I am reminded to be thankful you have been with many of the same people since shortly after your birth and even more importantly people that love you. That is not the story of every child in an orphanage. I am thankful for them.

I’m ready to not miss you. We are waiting expectantly for you. We anticipate the change in our life, the addition of a toddler, diapers, potty training, the change in adding a nap schedule into our routine and a new little human life that will be with us forever.

Little B, we can’t wait to have you here. We know this will be a difficult process for you and for us as well, but we will learn and grow together as families do.

Ready to have you home!!

Daddy, Mommy, Chloe and Violet

P.S. Friends are still buying shirts to help bring you home! Here's pics of just a few! If you still want a shirt go HERE! The fundraiser ends July 13th!