Nobody ever said that adoption was going to be easy.  I read enough books and articles and did enough research about adoption that told me so.  I talked to people who had been there and done that and were truthful about the details.  I thought I was prepared for anything that would come up and would handle the surprises that might arise.  BUT I certainly didn’t think I would be dealing with the hard stuff until well into the elementary years or even later.

I should have known when I looked into those dark dark liquid eyes the first time we met that she wasn’t going to walk an easy and straight path or live a perfect storybook life in a box.  Oh, we recognized her restless spirit in those first few days and spent the next couple of years trying to figure out what made her tick and how to handle this intricate person that God had so wonderfully created.  Even now, when I look into that face, I see the spirit of a wild horse longing for something, looking for a certain kind of freedom.  Her freedom lies not in running wild, but in finding answers to questions that she doesn’t even know she has yet.   Already she’s longing for something that I can’t give her.

And it hurts me.

It’s a hurt that takes your breath away when she makes a comment that you weren’t expecting to hear.  It’s a sad kind of hurt when she asks a question that you don’t have the answer for.  Or it’s a stabbing hurt when she says something that makes you think she could love another more than you.

My girl is looking for answers.  She wants to know:

“Why her first mother left her?”

“If the people in Vietnam miss her?”

“If she can one day have curly hair instead of straight?”

“Could I ask her first mother why she had a bump on her head when we got her?”

“Can she visit Vietnam?”

And currently, every time she sees an Asian lady, she wants to know if they are Chinese or Vietnamese.

She has questions and I don’t have all the answers.  I don’t pretend to have them all.  I am honest and tell her I don’t know.  Because I don’t.  But I wish I did.  I want to have all the answers for her.  I want to be all the answers she needs.  I want to be all the mother she needs.  But I know my girl, and I know that she will always be looking for more.