I arrived home tonight from an unexpected visit to Idaho.  I forgot how many pictures of my son I have up around the house and it broke my heart.  I should not be holding pictures.  I should be holding my boy.  Friday came and went.  Friday was yet another day we were supposed to hear that the next step in the adoption process was done.  Friday we were supposed to get our travel dates.  Friday came and went with silence.  Perhaps tomorrow.  Or perhaps not.  I look at my calendar and see family events that I was not supposed to be able to attend.  Maybe now I will.  And while I will be happy to celebrate, they will also be reminders that I am there because my boy is not here.  It is a fight every moment to not let the "what ifs" take over.  I've heard adoption likened to a high risk pregnancy, only complications in this instance can make things drag on and on.  And sometimes you loose your child.  While I don't anticipate that happening I still feel the "what if" in the back of my mind.  I've been reading 1 and 2 Corinthians and have been encouraged to see that Paul was at a place of despairing and God carried him through.  I know my God is faithful through the excitement  as well as the hard parts of this journey.   He is holding my son even when I can not.