Two Weeks 'til Tokyo

I think I am in denial that in two weeks, I will get onto a plane with my little family of three and move to Tokyo. As in Japan. As in Asia. As in 14 hours ahead of EST. As in I can't read the signs. As in I don't even know the letters (characters). And I am moving there sight unseen, except for some photos on my husband's Facebook. Moving there. Not just for a weeklong visit, or even a month. At least six months. Probably a year. And did I mention that I am a new mom? Yep. I will be traveling with an infant on a plane for 14 hours. I am praying that the little guy will nurse and sleep and relax and not fuss and freak out and demonstrate to an airplane full of folks just how unsure I feel about this transition process.

I know that it will be ok. I'm going with the love of my life, the dynamic adventurer, the caring husband, the involved daddy. And I have my dream of a baby boy, the answer to my prayers, all I ever wanted in a son. And most importantly, I'm going with my God, who loves me relentlessly and is not fazed by cultural changes, or language barriers, or screaming babies on planes.

But still, I'm scared. Scared that I will get lost. Scared that I'll isolate myself during the week, only venturing out with my hubby because it's less intimidating that way. Scared that I can't handle all the physical and emotional changes of new motherhood along with those of changing continents. So as I keep busy caring for Matthias, buying necessities like luggage, diapers, and peanut butter, and paying those last few bills in dollars before entering the world of yen, I am praying that this transition brings new purpose, new courage, and new hope. I would love to have you follow along as I step out in faith and believe that something amazing is about to happen.