Today marks one year. One year since our hearts melted into a puddle. One year ago we were standing in the natural-lit atrium of the Children’s Welfare Institute in China waiting to meet our sweet little girl. Would we recognize her? Would she come to us? Would she be healthy? Well-nourished? Nothing can adequately convey the emotion an adoptive family feels in that moment. I’ve never been so nervous. We waited for what seemed like hours. Two families met their little ones ahead of us. We have no idea if we’re next or not. The next nanny comes out, a tiny, round face buried in her shoulder. Is this her? Something in us tells us this is her. We both frantically scan the room for our guide. He calls her name… It’s her. It’s her! I don’t remember how we got from one side of the room to the other, but the next thing I remember is running my hand across her hair and looking into those dark eyes set atop her blushed cheeks. I wanted to stay in that moment forever. It was everything I imagined and nothing like I could’ve expected.
We’re home now. A year goes by so quickly. We’ve spent the last week looking through photos from that experience. Her hair is longer, softer. Her eyes are brighter. Her skin is clearer. But the overwhelming difference? She calls us Mommy and Daddy. She has a family. There’s a thing that most parents go through, almost unknowingly, with their naturally born children that adoptive parents pray about, work very hard to achieve. It’s called attachment and it’s the golden egg.
Reshearch tells us if attachment doesn’t happen within the first few months, this precious soul may not ever attach to her family. It’s hallowed. Every strategic moment. The cocooning. The co-sleeping. It’s hard and it gets harder. And then one day, she freaks out when you try to leave the house. A lot of parents of a three year old might hear this cacophony and wish for an escape to the coffee shop. But for adoptive parents, it’s a serenade. Most mornings, it’s not uncommon to wake up with a toddler on your face, but her cute, weird sleeping face, mouth gaping, tells the story of a little person who is at peace.
A year later, there’s no doubt… this little girl is home.