A few months ago, I published my first book. It is my reunion memoir, and while the book itself is not terribly long, the journey to completing it was a long process. The actual journey had to take place first—the undeniable longing, the nudge, the need to search, the logistics of search, establishing communication, meeting bio family, building new relationships. It took years to unfold, and equally as long for me to process and feel the need to write out that part of my adoption story. Since the book was completed and brought to life in print, many people have asked me, “What’s next? Have you started a new book?” The truth is, I don’t know what’s next. Releasing my story into the world was much like giving birth. Not only is it my first creative baby, but it is also a releasing of myself into the world. That self that felt unknown and misunderstood throughout my life. She lives in the pages of that book, and she now lives with me on each step of my days. The personal work I have done and the community of adoptees that I’ve become a part of were integral in my ability to offer myself to the world. So, for now, I’m not sure what’s next. There is an introductory paragraph that flew out of me one day, and the thoughts of what the next story might be churn in my head like waves. I have needed time to simply be present with this new sense of self in the world. I have needed time to navigate times and places I seem to see with new eyes. When the time is right, what is next will present itself. Until then, I am satisfied by sitting with what is, and knowing that is enough.