David: A World Turned Upside Down

It's good to be back at the keyboard. When we developed computer problems in Manila, it worked out better for Kathy to be making treks to hotel business centers in the Philippines. Once home, I've been either too exhausted or feeling too negative to make a post. Anyway, here I am safe and sound and thrilled to be back home. We had some great experiences in the Philippines and made some lifetime memories. But nothing beats good ol' Indiana.

Kathy's done a fine job of keeping you all involved and up to date on Leah May's first days with us. She's a beautiful girl, and someday she'll have me wrapped around her little finger. Won't take much, either. I already melt on those rare occasions she smiles at me. As Kathy has pointed out, Leah May hasn't exactly warmed up to me yet. She often leaves a room when I enter. She won't hold my hand or show any kind of personal regard for me. But I don't feel rejected, either. On a couple of occasions she has made it clear that she definitely wants me to be in the general vicinity, just not too close. (Maybe she just wants to keep a wary eye on me so I can't sneak up from behind...) Time will take care of the attachment issue.

The last couple of days haven't been easy, to say the least. Leah May has kept us awake throughout many of the nighttime hours, and much of the daytime is filled with tears and moaning. The poor girl's heart is broken. Her entire world has been turned upside down. The people she loved and knew since birth, for reasons not understood by her, have handed her over to the custody of total strangers. All that was familiar have been replaced by people and things which look different, sound different, smell different, etc. I can't begin to imagine what that's like, but it can't be a pleasant experience.

Two nights ago, in one of those moments that gives me hope for the attachment issue, Leah May finally calmed down only after I curled up on the floor next to her pallet. Before finally falling asleep, she occasionally would look over to make sure I was still there. An arthritic 46-year-old man with a bulging disc had no business sleeping on the floor, and the next morning I felt like Manny Pacquiao had punished me for about six rounds. But getting her to sleep was worth every bit of pain.

Last night Kathy crawled into bed with Leah May, and neither of them got much sleep before dawn. Today Leah May spent literally almost every minute crying and moaning -- or pretending to cry and moan. I'm convinced that she was actively trying to wear us down to the point that we would gladly take her back to the orphanage. As the day dragged on, she also began to show signs of frustration and anger. We won't be surprised if some volcanic-like fury erupts in the next day or so. Eventually, acceptance will come and she will begin to find happiness in our home.

Tonight, after the daylong crying session, came a little bit of pleasantness. She actually fell asleep very quickly, thanks be to God. We're holding our breath, crossing our fingers, and lighting votive candles in the hope that she sleeps through the night.

One final observation for this post: Our experiences of the last week have resulted in Rene and I drawing closer together than ever. My boy has apparently taken pity on his old man's not being readily accepted by Leah May. We've been very close since the day he and I met, but now for the first time ever he actually feels and acts like one of my best friends. It's a wonderful feeling.