Talking Myself Down off The Metaphorical Ledge

I couldn't decide whether to post this or not, but in the end I have found courage and strength by following the honest struggles and joys of those who have gone before, so here it is:

As the months since referral have passed, my daughter has become more and more real to me. We named her, we talk about her, we shop for her, dream about her. She has changed and grown through the pictures we have received and our images and mental pictures have changed along with her. When she hit her milestones- smiling, rolling over, sitting up and now crawling, standing and talking a little- we smiled and cheered her from afar, proud of her accomplishments already. While we wished we were there to clap and videotape and give congratulatory hugs, we were mostly happy for the small glimpses.

But small glimpses are dangerous and sometimes scary. Really that sort of encapsulates this whole process- small glimpses- happiness, fear, anxiety and pride from afar. Most of our small glances at her are reassuring- she looks sweet and content and thoughtful in most of her pictures. She grows and changes and learns new skills.

But there are also moments that are scary- not so much for what you learn or see but for what you don't or can't. When she looks sick or unhappy and you can't tell why. When her feet look turned in an odd way and you can't tell if it's a sign of something. When you get updates that are 90% positive chronicling learning and growing, but... there are words that bring fear- she has fallen in the growth charts, her legs show some stiffness.

Let me be clear, she is my daughter, no matter what challenges, concerns and questions she brings. She will be my daughter if she screams at us someday for grounding her, she is my daughter if she throws her food across the room, if she howls in anger, grief or laughter. She is my daughter when she someday wakes me up at night, holds my hand or smiles sweetly. She is my daughter even if she's sick, can't write an 'A' essay or run on the soccer field, even if the worst case scenarios come true.

Yet for a short time today, after we got the update telling us so many good things- that she crawls, that she stands up, can say 'ma ma' and 'da da', I was depressed by some of the other words- the 'might' 'mild' 'maybe' words. I couldn't figure out why. It didn't really say anything we didn't already know. I just hadn't heard the words in awhile, hadn't thought about them, talked about them. At first I wished that we could somehow have skipped this update, which is so close to the end, since it just raised questions that won't be able to be answered until we have her home, if then. It just made me more anxious and nervous, more tired of waiting. It made me want her home NOW!

But after I let the updated information sit in me for awhile it sat better. I'm okay now. I looked at her picture, sat in her room for a moment and realized that she is the little girl she has always been and will be. It is up to us to be the best parents we can be, no matter what may come. I've always known this but it was good to have the reminder, to somehow find a peace in the uncertainty and the fear. Because actually for me that's really what motherhood has been for all of my children- finding moments of peace and joy amidst the hopes and fears you can't control and can't quite quell.