I find it hard to believe that it is four whole years since the older one came home. I find it hard to believe that it is only four years since the older one came home.
It feels like she has been with me forever. It feels like she has only just arrived.
I remember this eve well. I spent it making up her bed, arranging her toys and making her room look welcoming and friendly. If only I had know then what I know now – that was the tidiest her room would ever be…
I was reluctant to prepare in too many ways for her arrival. In Africa, these things are never certain until they are certain. Add that to my Scottish doubt and I was convinced that anything could happen.
So, I had only prepared the very minimum. Two outfits. One pair of shoes. A small chair to sit by my small table. And a small foam mattress in case she fell out of bed. She was used to sleeping on the floor, well hemmed in by other children.
I went out for dinner, thinking it might be the last opportunity in many years to go out without either having a child in tow or having to arrange for a babysitter.
I also spent some time “networking” with a mum that lived next door. After all, I knew nothing at all about being a mother save that which I had read in the Guide to Good Parenting books I had read in the past few months.
It was a long and restless night, this night four years ago. It was a Sunday night. The High Court in Lesotho decides on adoptions on a Monday.
I was excited. I was nervous. I was doubtful. I could not believe it was going to happen.
The procedure in Lesotho did not take long - it had only been four months since I submitted my letter of application and our case was opened.
And here we were.
February 25th.
The eve…
