Marina is THREE!

Happy Birthday to Marina! Birthday celebrations for her began on Friday at the park and are to be continued. Sunday she left church looking like an overloaded burro. She could barely tote all of her loot. There are some definite perks to being the pastor's daughter in a church of all elderly people. Today Daddy will take her out on her birthday date. My sisters will bring her presents to the family lake house this weekend and we will have cupcakes with the cousins. The following Monday we will celebrate with the master's family in Norteast Texas. More cake, presents, and party. It's turning out to be a birthweek not a birthday.

But this is THE day. Three years ago a young woman in Russia gave birth a few weeks early to a baby girl. The young woman's name was Marina. She was sick. She knew she could not take care of this new little life. This was her fourth pregnancy; her second child born. Within days she would sign over all rights to her daughter. There is no indication that she ever held her. Some faceless hospital staff person named the child Olga.

I did not expect to feel the sorrow I do for this young woman. I am not a romantic person. So feeling a strong connection to some person I've never even met took me by surprise. It has been one of the most amazing facets of becoming an adoptive parent. I have no way of knowing if she is still alive on the planet, and yet, she is here with me always. And on today of all days, I'm so sad for her. Glad and sad. Glad that little Marina is mine. That she is here with us. So thankful that she did not try to parent a child in her life condition. But so sad that she is missing out on knowing this wonderful person. Is she thinking of her? Does she wonder what became of the tiny baby she gave birth to three years ago?

My prayer today is that God will whisper to her, "She is well. She is happy. She is loved."