I spend every waking moment with Princess. We have tea parties, push around a shopping cart, rock, read books, and eat...all the time. She demands so much attention my house has never looked worse and it's hard to make a meal with her perched on my hip.
I'm not complaining. She needs the extra TLC. And I'm happy to give it to her. But today it really hit me, I can tell you this child's schedule minute by minute. I can tell you what she likes, how she likes you to gently tap her back (and if you don't do it right, she'll move your hand), I can tell you how much of a kiwi she ate and how many calories she consumed throughout the day. I know her favorite shoes, blanket, and bottle.
I can't tell you, however, when she started crawling, how much she weighed at birth, or when she first smiled. I don't know how she recovered, from open heart surgery without a mommy and daddy to rock and hold her. I wasn't there when she was left completely and utterly alone almost two years ago when she was abandoned.
I often wonder what did she do in the orphanage all day? Was she in her crib? Did she have friends? A special nanny? Did someone come running when she cried?
An orphanage is a complicated, sad place. There are too many kids and not enough help. So many kids are sick and my girl was one of them. With a very serious heart condition, that would have killed her, she was likely blue, sluggish, and very sick.
This much I know about her She is not a mistake. She is a fighter and a survivor. I may not have been there physically in the beginning, but I was praying for my daughter I hadn't met yet.
Our history together started on August 15. I cannot change her past. I can help her mourn and move on with a family who loves and adores her. That's my job. Simply because I'm her mom.