Taking the leap of faith that it took to start the adoption process was like jumping off a high dive with no idea if there is water in the swimming pool... and I've always been terrified of heights, I wont even drive to the top of Mt. Washington because the road along the mountain side freaks me out. I'm a wimp, always have been... always thought I would be. Somehow, the drive to adopt came from something so much bigger than me. It was like I knew she was out there waiting, that she was hungry and desperate for love. I felt this sense of urgency and total faith that it was the right thing to do. I loved her before I knew anything about her... the love, was just there, in me, around me... driving me. It was inexplicable.

Christmas was so beautiful, everything I ever hoped it would be... being a mom. Holding our breath as we huddled under the covers, listening for the reindeer bells. The day after Christmas Kajal got incredibly stressed, cried and acted out. My mother told me this was totally normal... most children experience a let down after a big holiday, especially Christmas. That's the thing, with Kajal's behavior I often wonder is this normal or is this a reaction or trigger from her past. I asked Kajal, are you sad? Has this been too much for you, all this 'Christmas stuff'? Are you sad that Christmas is over? Kajal looked at our beautiful Christmas tree and said, no Mommy. Christmas isn't over, see... and she pointed to the tree.  Well, you're right honey, it's still the Christmas season.

And you know Mommy, when it is over it wont matter because we'll just keep celebrating other things and then it will be Christmas again.

How wise my little one is. That's true honey, we do celebrate so many special days.  She looked so pensive, something made me ask... do you remember ever celebrating anything  in India.

No, Mommy. We never celebrate anything, nothing. Never. We just sit, quietly, all day long and that's all. Sit and be quiet. She looked off into space, very sad and much too old for her age. Night time was bad Mommy. That's when the monsters came. I would close my eyes and pretend to be asleep, everyone else would sleep but I couldn't really. I'd stay awake with my eyes closed tight and some times I'd open them, my eyes. And Mommy, I'd see the monsters and I'd see really bad things.

Then she grew quiet again. No Mommy, there were no celebrations.

I'm so sorry, baby... and I held her in my arms and rocked her like a baby... rocked her until she giggled and smiled again.

How do I not think about everything she's been through... wonder at the hungry days and nights, the lack of love, the lonlieness and the lack of, everything. Sometimes when Kajal is crying or having a bad day, a tantrum she holds her head with her hands and rocks back and forth. The pain is so big, and the memories seem to overlap the present. I'm learning ways to help ground her in the present... I hope in the middle of those stressful moments I'll remember to use the tools I've learned.

I've talked with her about Santa Claus, about the fact that he didn't come for her in India because she didn't know about him and that Santa comes to those that believe in him. She was so afraid 'he' wouldn't come for her, that she wasn't good enough. I told her every night leading up to Christmas that she was good, that's she'd always been good. No matter how naughty her behavior may have been that particular day, she was wonderful and truly good in her heart and Santa knew that.

But then I think about the children in the world who know about Santa, who believe and pray with all their heart... and still, he doesn't come. How do you explain that? What about all the times she prayed for food and no one gave her any. Or that she was cold and there was no blanket? All the times she huddled in a corner hoping to disappear, hoping to not be hurt... but she was.

These thoughts are never far from the surface of my conscious mind.

It's so huge, thinking about what she's survived, what she carries with her in her soul and in her memories. Many nights I sit in silence, trying to lose my thoughts in a book or television show. Wishing there was someone to share these concerns with, this ache and sadness for her. For all the children out there alone, still hungry and hurt and alone.

It's so big, being alone, being a single parent. I want to be everything she needs, I pray that I am. But I can't help dreaming that one day I'll meet someone, fall in love, be loved... be able to lean on someone else and have them love her too. Of course, we've been together over a year already and I still feel uncomfortable leaving Kajal alone at bed time... how I'll ever be able to go on a date is beyond me. Never mind be able to have a relationship. But then again, I hardly feel attractive most of the time anymore either... more like an exhausted, hair standing on end, or just tied in one big knot, rumpled jeans, make up free, unfeminine person who races through her work day with just enough time to throw dinner on the table, toss a load of laundry in and race to pick my wee one up. Not exactly romance material I'm guessing.

Kajal felt bad about the fact that Santa brought her so many gifts and left me so few. I tried to explain that Santa focuses on the children, he's not about the adults.  The last few days Kajal has been making me small precious gifts. A drawing of a Christmas tree, a painting of a butterfly and flowers, a picture of Pocahontas (her new favorite Disney Princess) and the most precious gift... she took out the album that I sent to her in India to introduce myself and our home to her and she painstakingly copied every single word and created a new little book for me and she wrapped each one and placed them under the tree. Then she'd come looking for me, Mommy... you have a present under the tree she'll say in a singsong happy little voice.  She'll imitate me, hmmm... .I wonder what it could be, I wonder what it is ... she's help me unwrap each precious gift. See Mommy, you have presents too...

For a child that has known so little love and kindness, she exhibits such a huge heart... such massive amounts of generosity.

Being a single adoptive mom is a hundred, a thousand times harder at times than I ever imagined.

It is lonely and I wonder if I'll ever experience romance again in my life, or have a partner to share my new family.

But I have never experienced love so big or so precious... so unconditional as this amazing, brave little girl has shown me.