I am not okay.  My breaths feel shallow and my chest feels tight.  My legs feel heavy and my brain feels sluggish.  Our son gets in a car with a stranger and drives off to spend the day with his dad.  And I hear nothing and I wonder.  I catch myself listening for his babbling and crawling only to remember that he is not home.  And then my heart trips over the word 'home' yet again and I wonder where these next months will take him, will take us.  This road of letting go, of letting grief wash over me, as hope builds for the rejoining of the family that should be.... this is the road I know I need to walk for our son.  This is the road of healing and there will be much joy.  This is a slow, painful, necessary road, but I am not okay.