That was a rough first night–for both of us.

I met my new daughter in the hallway of a hotel on the other side of the world.

She was 15-months-old. She had never heard English.  She had never had a bath. She had nothing to her name—not even the clothes on her back.  She was a dirty, smelly baby who would eat nothing but sour cream and onion potato chips.

She was PERFECT.

Unlike a pregnancy, we had to deal with the strange feeling of not knowing where our child was, or anything about her, but we knew she was special.  She was already very much our child before we knew anything about her, and it was painful to be separated.

The adoption referral papers which introduced us to JJ told us only her age, height, weight, and head circumference.

We called a doctor who specializes in international adoptions.  He took one look at the measurements and suggested we ask for a different baby.  The head circumference on the medical sheet indicated some sort of brain problem.  At the very least, he said, she would be a slow learner.

Suddenly, she was more “special” than we had imagined.

The Husband and I decided that we needed to have faith that this was the child meant for us, with whatever challenges she presented.  We accepted the referral, and found a pediatrician to help us figure out how to meet her special needs.

Fifteen minutes after getting into my room in Hangzhou, China, before I had even opened my suitcase,  I was summoned to pick up my daughter from another hotel room.

As the social worker handed a kicking, screaming, crying child to me, I looked at my new daughter and thought, “This kid has the biggest head I have ever seen.”

I took her back to my hotel room and waited for the maternal instinct to kick in. (Been waiting for that all-knowing maternal instinct for 17 years now.)

JJ is 18 now and soon to be a college student majoring in computer science and mathematics.  After a growth spurt that had us running for new shoes every six weeks, that whole head-body ratio evened out.

She is a smart, ornery teenager, and she is PERFECT.

JJ would be just as perfect if we were dealing with medical or educational issues. It was a leap of faith to believe that we were strong enough to handle whatever challenge came with our baby.

Have you ever taken a leap of faith? How did it work out?

[This post originally appeared on The Socratic Project. JJ is now a 20 year old college student.]