Well, I'm sorry I haven't updated or written to any of you in the last few days. I've just added a few new entries and will share some of the sweetest moments but also some of the challenges that have led to my silence. Several days ago I got sick, very similar to what Kajal seemed to have... a nasty bug, sicker than I think I've ever been. Thank God for my mother, she took care of Kajal for an evening when I could barely move. My being sick seemed to terrify Kajal... her mood shifted from the joy she'd been experiencing to a withdrawn and sad. Her grandmother broke through occasionally and made her laugh and I tried to comfort her but her fear was palpable. Of course we wonder when things happen... what memories and fears does this trigger. Our first flight for example was wonderful, until she realized the seatbelt was on her and she couldn't remove it and she went into abject terror... she had a total meltdown, it was terrifying for her beyond belief.

For days Kajal had been eating everything in sight, she's been so hungry she couldn't stop and would freak when we tried to take the food away from her. She would grab at whole loafs of bread and if she dropped a kernal of rice would grab it from where it fell and eat it quickly. The moment we knew she trusted the food would keep coming was the time she dropped some rice on her lap and looked up at me and smiled then excitedly wiped it on to the floor, and giggled.

A few nights ago, curled up in my arms she was staring at me very closely. She was noticing some freckles I have and confused by them, tried to wipe them off. When that didn't work, she tried scraping them off... I realized she thought they were dirt and laughed with me when she realized I had teeny dark spots on me... it seemed like a moment of similarity. Moments later she grabbed some of my hair and yanked it out.. I yelped and was about to get mad when I noticed her smile... so cute, she then laid the hair over her head so that it dangled down in front of her face. She was saying I am your daughter... let me look like you. If only I could have told her how perfect she already was. Well, I did, she just didn't understand what I was saying.

The bubble burst though... the last few days Kajal has gone from being incredibly happy one moment to absolutely out of control the next. I had read about the grieving process for institutionalized children but nothing could have prepared me for the screaming.... tears coursing down her face, screaming at the top of her lungs in a language we can't understand... screaming for friends that aren't here, caretakers that are gone. Nothing we do at these times seems to help...  today, I had to carry her outside and hold her on the lawn of the hotel but the screams would have carried for miles and didn't stop until a security guard came and talked to her in Hindu, close enough to her native Marathi that she calmed down. During these times she gets a shocked, numb, far away look on her face and there is just no reaching her. He didn't seem to really get through until he pointed out a police man. Immediately she snapped out of her daze and reached for a bowl of rice I had for her... she calmed down and started eating. Moments later she was back safely in the hotel with a smile on her face. Later when I asked the security guard what he said... he explained that he felt that the only thing children on the streets of India were afraid of, was the police. He said, any time she is giving you a hard time... just tell her you'll call the police. Oh my God, I thought... is that the only way I'll get through to my child, by threatening to call the police on  her? Well, you are my friends and family... let's just say, I'm a little more than scared right now. I know that's not the answer, I just don't know what is and I pray these episodes, worse than you can even imagine... will pass.

In the meanwhile, when she starts to grow sad, I show her the pictures of the friends she's left behind. She sits on my lap and gazes at the computer, names each face and laughs and talks to them... as if they can still hear her.