365 days of…
soft curls twirly-whirly around my index finger
the sway of my hips as I rock you before sleep
“I love you, baby” in your ear
Somewhere Over the Rainbow with the bottle
lotion on your knees
that “v” you get on your forehead when you cry
staring at your toes in disbelief of how feakin’ cute they are
praying for strength for the both of us
365 days of knowing you.
I woke up August 24th in Ethiopia. We had flown in late the night before and barely slept as we anticipated meeting you. I walked onto the balcony of our hotel room to see Addis for the first time in the light. The sky had recently cleared from rain. All seemed fresh and green and clear and bright. Until I witnessed a dog get hit by a car. He howled, then whimpered for a few minutes before he went limp and died. Men and women walked to work along the bustling, muddy road; children played and walked to school. All passing by the dog. I watched this scene play out and witnessed for the first time how Ethiopia can be a tough place. There simply are not enough resources for all of its people, let alone that unfortunate dog. I cried a nervous nauseating cry. For the suffering that couldn’t be missed moments after waking and for the joy of preparing to meet you. I applied and reapplied my Burt's Bees lip balm, all to keep my hands busy as they shook. I couldn’t help but to think about how big and dense the leaves were on the tree across the street. How beautiful it all was as I ate my Luna bar. And whether or not we had charged the batteries for our cameras.
the view from our balcony that first morning
in the van, on our way to meet you
This was the hour before we met you. That day was bitter-sweet. Donovan and I sum it up by saying that it was the best and worst day of our life…holding our precious and incredibly ill daughter for the first time. It was our beginning. I am more blessed for the lengths that we have had to trod this year to make you wholly ours...and your cuteness continues to overwhelm me and make me crazy in the head. Tonight we celebrated by toasting our pizza with you and a tall glass of wine without you after you fell asleep.
365 days of wine.
Here is the picture of Cuteness herself: THEN...
and NOW...
My wonder girl has pizazz. 365 days of pizazz.
lotion on your knees
that “v” you get on your forehead when you cry
staring at your toes in disbelief of how feakin’ cute they are
praying for strength for the both of us
365 days of knowing you.
I woke up August 24th in Ethiopia. We had flown in late the night before and barely slept as we anticipated meeting you. I walked onto the balcony of our hotel room to see Addis for the first time in the light. The sky had recently cleared from rain. All seemed fresh and green and clear and bright. Until I witnessed a dog get hit by a car. He howled, then whimpered for a few minutes before he went limp and died. Men and women walked to work along the bustling, muddy road; children played and walked to school. All passing by the dog. I watched this scene play out and witnessed for the first time how Ethiopia can be a tough place. There simply are not enough resources for all of its people, let alone that unfortunate dog. I cried a nervous nauseating cry. For the suffering that couldn’t be missed moments after waking and for the joy of preparing to meet you. I applied and reapplied my Burt's Bees lip balm, all to keep my hands busy as they shook. I couldn’t help but to think about how big and dense the leaves were on the tree across the street. How beautiful it all was as I ate my Luna bar. And whether or not we had charged the batteries for our cameras.
the view from our balcony that first morning
in the van, on our way to meet you365 days of wine.
Here is the picture of Cuteness herself: THEN...
and NOW...
My wonder girl has pizazz. 365 days of pizazz.
