Does She Hear Me Whisper?

Adoption is an emotional journey.  

I feel like time is passing in slow motion.  There is a persistent tugging at my heart.

Somewhere in Saint Petersburg, my little girl is wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down on her bed, inside her orphanage, looking at pictures of our precious week together… and wondering.  

The day she left, I gave her a photo album that held 200 pictures.  There weren’t enough sleeves and she had to wrap the extra pictures in a rubber band.  She kept teasing me because I wouldn’t let her look at them in front of me.  I couldn’t stand to look at our perfect moments frozen in time from our story tale week together… knowing that I had to drive her to the airport in less than an hour.

I told her she would have to wait until she was on the plane to see which ones I had selected.  Amidst all the packing and repacking of the nine little orphans’ bags, the one with the photo album never left her protective hands. 

As my beloved little girl turns the pages, is she wondering what is taking me so long to come get her?

Could it be that maybe her eyes fill up with tears and her heart skips a beat as she remembers each special moment we shared?  I replay the moment when I looked over and saw her and Ashley holding hands at the Candlelight.  I laugh to myself at the memory of her sneaking into my bed the last night and starting a family pillow fight.  I can still hear her innocent, 12-year-old voice cry out, “I dead!” as she falls backwards on my bed!  And still, I cry every time I look in my rearview mirror and remember her concerned eyes as we drove back to the airport.  My heart is stuck in July, but my body is moving through October. 

Maybe she is wondering what it’s going to be like when she walks away from everything she’s ever known.  It’s not right for her to live in an orphanage, laying her head down each night and falling asleep alone.  It’s not right, but it’s normal… at least to her.  No one telling her that she is fearfully and wonderfully made.  No one affirming her beauty and worth.  No one is telling her their favorite thing about her.  No one telling her that they love her.  Does she hear me whisper it each night?

It’s normal for me to talk to moms that wonder what their teenage girls are thinking... but I’ve never been the one on this side of the questions.  I can't help but wonder... what is my little girl thinking tonight?