While Liana is taking her afternoon nap, I’m usually here at my computer in the next room, about 20 feet away. When she wakes up she lets out an loud, rather anxious vocalization, and I go running into the bedroom, where I am greeted with her amazing big smile, followed by bounces and squeals and just silliness and joy.
Except for today.
At a certain point I went in, just to check on her. She was awake, with her face buried in the mattress, weeping. She had been crying a long time it seems, but silently, like she did the first few days after her foster family dropped her off. She saw me, and continued to cry, but reached out to be held. I cuddled her a bit, but could not interest her in her bottle or toys. She just kept weeping. Her very wet diaper was in desperate need of a change, and she cried inconsolably during the process. I then cuddled her more, but she just buried her face in my shoulder and wept. I pointed at the things that she loves to look at, art, toys, the window. We even went outside to look at flowers. But she was just sad.
I am so glad that I decided to take this time with Liana here in Antigua. This is a hard time for her, even though most of the time she is joyous and wonderful. This is a big transition in her life, leaving the only family she has ever known to be with me. The first few days were really hard, and even the first full week had its challenges. Even now when I think we are all settled in and just being a happy family, it seems that she is still, on many levels, grieving her losses.
Eventually she cheered up, and became herself. She played with the courtyard kids, and later she and I went out to dinner and had lots of fun. She was very silly this evening when I tried to get her to go to sleep, crawling around the bed and rolling, and blowing bubbles on my arms and giggling. But when she is in that adorable mode, it is hard not to tickle her and just give in and play and be silly. When I finally felt her taking those deep, regular breaths that signaled she was really asleep, I crept back out here to the computer. But with a little less confidence now. I depend on her to communicate her needs to me, and she usually does. But this afternoon she wept silently alone, and I was not even there to help.
Except for today.
At a certain point I went in, just to check on her. She was awake, with her face buried in the mattress, weeping. She had been crying a long time it seems, but silently, like she did the first few days after her foster family dropped her off. She saw me, and continued to cry, but reached out to be held. I cuddled her a bit, but could not interest her in her bottle or toys. She just kept weeping. Her very wet diaper was in desperate need of a change, and she cried inconsolably during the process. I then cuddled her more, but she just buried her face in my shoulder and wept. I pointed at the things that she loves to look at, art, toys, the window. We even went outside to look at flowers. But she was just sad.
I am so glad that I decided to take this time with Liana here in Antigua. This is a hard time for her, even though most of the time she is joyous and wonderful. This is a big transition in her life, leaving the only family she has ever known to be with me. The first few days were really hard, and even the first full week had its challenges. Even now when I think we are all settled in and just being a happy family, it seems that she is still, on many levels, grieving her losses.
Eventually she cheered up, and became herself. She played with the courtyard kids, and later she and I went out to dinner and had lots of fun. She was very silly this evening when I tried to get her to go to sleep, crawling around the bed and rolling, and blowing bubbles on my arms and giggling. But when she is in that adorable mode, it is hard not to tickle her and just give in and play and be silly. When I finally felt her taking those deep, regular breaths that signaled she was really asleep, I crept back out here to the computer. But with a little less confidence now. I depend on her to communicate her needs to me, and she usually does. But this afternoon she wept silently alone, and I was not even there to help.
