We finally got dates to travel to Bulgaria to bring our daughter home. In two-and-a half-weeks, I will be gathering her into my arms forever. And after all the waiting and sweating and hard labor to get to her, I might never let her go. 🙂
I haven’t had a two-year-old in three years, so I’ve spent plenty of time in the Target baby aisles lately trying to remember. Adoption is special. I don’t really know what to expect when I take my girl into my arms and escort her to our hotel room that first night. Will she cry? Will she struggle against me? Will she want to sleep with me? Will she want to be in a crib? Will she sleep all night? Will she wake upset in strange surroundings? Will she fight against diaper changes? Will she gladly rest in my arms? Will she let me wear her? Will she want the toys we have? Will she scream in public?
I remember having some similar questions as we brought new baby after new baby (after new baby) home from the hospital. What will s/he be like? Is she grumpy? Will he fuss? Will she like the bath/crib/pacifier/diaper changes? Will he cry when I’m in the grocery store and make everyone stare at me?
But this feels different. This darling little one’s personality has already taken some shape. She has already experienced great loss. And trauma. And transition. She is resilient. She is strong. She is beautiful.
But will she let me change her diaper?
I don’t know.
So, I’ve been gathering the supplies. Making the lists. Reading the blogs. Saying the prayers. Because above the Tylenol, diaper rash cream, and twinkling musical toys, I need His grace to finish this adoption well. From the first signature on our contract with our agency to the moment the judge declared us a family of six, His grace has carried us through this process, and I have no doubt He is waiting in Bulgaria to walk me through each meal time, each public outing, and each bed time in an unfamiliar hotel.