One year ago today I opened the door of our hotel room in Hefei, China, with Solana excitedly bouncing up and down next to me, and little Iris calmly walked into our family. Her cheeks puffy and red, her legs wobbly, and her beautiful brown eyes looking straight into mine. Recognition.

Within a few minutes, our Chinese guide asked her who I was and Iris responded, “Mama” … I remember gasping. Six months prior, I sent a pillow to Iris’ orphanage. It was silk-screened with a large photo of me, and a smaller image of me with Solana. I didn’t know if it ever made it to Iris, but clearly it did. Iris slept with it every day for six months. When she walked into our room on January 28, 2013 she did not fully understand what “family” meant, but she knew we were hers.

We loaded into a van and Iris climbed onto my lap as though she had been doing it every day for the past 3 years. We drove to the civil affairs office and the bank, for meetings and paperwork which consumed our day. As we prepared for bath time that night, I began removing her countless layers of clothing. Coat, sweaters, shirts, undershirts. What I ultimately found was a tiny, seemingly underdeveloped body .. diminutive compared to her head. In fact, she was all head. Her arms and legs felt like mush, and although she could stand and wobble a few steps, that was the extent of what she could do physically. I was caught off guard, and scared. Was this the result of her heart defect .. or was something else going on in her tiny body. I emailed photos to Dr. Langley at Doernbecher. I called our guide and asked if I could take her to the hospital in the morning. I prayed. And I prayed.

I so badly wanted a sign. Any indication to let me know that she would be fine. That we would be fine. I was in and out of sleep all night. Waking to pray; to God .. to my dad in heaven. Looking anywhere and everywhere for a sign. When the room finally started to come alive in the morning, I found myself staring at Iris. Her cheeks swollen to the point of being shiny, and even redder than the day before.

But she was snuggled up next to her sister. She was with her family, and I knew. She would be fine. We would be fine. The sign I was searching so desperately for .. was in front of me. It was Iris.

We did go to the hospital to have her checked out. Fortunately the doctor knew basic English and was able to communicate that Iris’ orphanage was understaffed and she was left in a crib 90% of her day. What I was seeing was the result of poor nutrition, muscle atrophy and the effects of her heart defect. His words to me, “Good nutrition and activity will help her a lot, and she needs her heart fixed. It’s very serious.”

In the twelve months that have passed, and one incredible medical journey, Iris has taught me about strength, resilience, and the infinite love we are capable of.

Happy family anniversary Iris … my little warrior.

This photo was taken in the van one year ago. My precious family: