Aug 26

Dear Chosen Child,

This week we received word that we are officially registered in your country of birth. We are now officially waiting. Expecting. For several weeks already, in fact. We were told that we were registered as of August 5. I feel like I did when I learned I was pregnant – like something amazing was going on for quite some time without my knowledge, a secret miracle.

Because, as I’ve said before, sweet child, I may not carry you in my body, but I carry you in my heart. At the risk of sounding overly sappy or romanticizing the waiting process, I am finding my thoughts and emotions very similar to when I was pregnant with your brother and sister. You are always there in the back of my mind, a possibility hovering in the mist.

Whenever I imagine the future you are always in the picture. When I think of Christmases and family holidays and going to the park and out for dinner and the first day of school and so many every day things, I think of you and how you will fit into us. Every time I pack up another bag of your sister’s clothes I think of you and imagine dressing you in them some day, deciding which precious items I will keep for you. When I sort through toys that are no longer used I picture you using them. I speculate about what you will like and what your personality will be, how you get along with Avery and Kieran, and just what it will be like when you are finally here, a part of us. No matter which way a child comes to you, expecting is basically the same. Anticipation. Imagination. Hope. Joy.

Love,
Mommy

PS-This is us, waiting for you to come home.

Aug 5

I have to admit something. No, not admit. I must acknowledge something. Something I’ve been trying to deny for some time. But I can deny it no longer. The facts have become too blatant to ignore. It’s staring me right in the face on an almost daily basis.

My daughter is an inappropriate laugher.

You know the type. I bet there are even a few of you reading this right now who knowing exactly what I’m talking about. People who, despite their good intentions or futile attempts at self-control, start to chuckle, chortle, giggle, snicker, guffaw or otherwise cackle during intense and completely inappropriate moments. For some inappropriate laughers it’s solemn occasions such as funerals, graduations, or religious services. The somber atmosphere combined with nervous tension seems to breed giggling. For others it’s awkward conversations. When debating or arguing they simply dissolve into laughter.

For my daughter, it’s scolding. Whenever she catches it for misbehaviour her eyes get wide and she attempts to look appropriately contrite, but before we know it she bursts into giggles, accompanied by a half crazed, half horrified look that says she knows her laughter is inappropriate but she can’t control it.

It’s really hard to give a kid heck when they are laughing uncontrollably.

I guess there are worse qualities for a person to possess. Here’s hoping she outgrows it before the first time she gets caught passing a note in class!