She's Three!

Sintayehu turned three today.  We celebrated her well.  "It's Sintayehu's birthday!" she said often.  "I'm having fun!"  At three, she's stringing more words together.  She's showing us new pieces of herself and is expressing what's going on in her mind.  She's incredibly helpful.  She's very nurturing.  She loves her brothers fiercely.  She's funny.  She falls a lot.  Of course we find her beautiful, both inside and out.

She's been under the weather lately so–twist my arm–I kept her home from preschool this morning.  We cuddled, ran a few errands, and read a lot of books.  She got to talk to some family members on the phone.  I let her eat cheerios on the couch.  And then blueberries.  And then turkey.  I let her play the iPad as I combed her hair.  "Poor birdies," she said over and over again as she listened to the Angry Birds theme song.  She dressed in party clothes and obsessed over her colorful beaded bracelet all day long, taking it on and off, on and off.  I wore the silver necklace that I bought in Ethiopia.

I would never really consider this an adoption blog, but since this blog focuses on the making of and the life of this family, there are, of course, threads of adoption that run through its narrative.  And  milestone days like birthdays make me a little bit sentimental, so I spent a lot of time thinking today.

We began the adoption process (officially) in February of 2008.  Mind you, this was nearly two years before Sintayehu was even born!  We officially began our wait when we turned in our paperwork on October 28, 2008; we saw a jpeg image of her face in October of 2010; we brought Sintayehu home in April of 2011.  In some ways, it's actually still painful to dredge up the feelings that I experienced during the years of waiting for her to join our family.  It was an incredibly vulnerable time filled with anxiety and darkness and confusion about the world.  And yet there was always this great hope and longing and sense of wonder about what was about to happen.  Always pain before a child is born...

Sometimes I have to catch my breath when I realize that we only have four baby pictures of her. (All of which are adorable, by the way).  And I'll be honest, it sometimes feels like a cruel joke that she–we–have a family a world away that didn't get to eat cake with us tonight.  Inhale.  Exhale.  We will do what we can.  Healthy or not, I can't linger here for long.

When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock 

and cover you with my hand until I have passed by.

I'd say we're on the other side.  We're here living this life that is truly rich, in part because of this little girl.  She's been home for nearly two years and I still feel as if we won the jackpot.  I feel like we could have scoured the earth and looked under every rock and inside every cupboard and down every aisle and never in a million years have come up with a child more suited to our family.  She is so easy to love.  We are so incredibly lucky.

Here's a big thought in a clunky sentence: God is so much bigger than big.  On a day like this, a sentimental kind of day on which I set the dining room table with special dishes and wrapped doll furniture and a sweet little dress in green polka-dot paper, a day on which I get to witness this beautiful child actually call me "mama," I simply can't get over this force of love and brilliance that's behind the wheel.  I guess all of this is to say that it's just so humbling.  I get to know her.  It's her birthday.  I got to hang streamers.  I'm sitting her tonight feeling so small.  And so loved.

Pictures to come...