Sahana I

My parents adopted my sister, Lily, from India in 2016 when I was 12 and she was four. It was not a quick or simple process. India had recently updated its adoption laws, and international families like ours were often placed lower on priority lists, especially without any direct ties to the country. There were long stretches where nothing moved forward and we just had to wait.

During that time, adoption became something we talked about constantly at home, not in a formal way, but as part of everyday life. What it would mean for our routines, for me as a sibling, for my parents as caregivers. I did not fully understand it at first, but I was still part of those conversations, and that stuck with me later.

When Lily finally came home, she was small, quiet, and cautious in a way that made sense once we learned more about her background. She was born with spina bifida, and she had already been through more medical care than I could really comprehend at that age. Doctor visits, early interventions, and constant adjustments became normal for her, and slowly they became normal for us too.

I think what surprised me most was how quickly my idea of “family” shifted. It stopped being something I thought of as automatic and started feeling more like something you actively take care of. Not in a dramatic way, but in the small daily choices that add up over time.

Lily is joyful in a way that is hard to describe unless you know her. She notices everything, remembers small things people say, and has a way of making a room feel lighter without trying. Being her sibling has shaped how I see responsibility, patience, and what it really means to show up for someone.

Adoption has had a lasting impact on my life, and it is something I know will continue to shape who I become. Lily will always be at the center of that for me, and I cannot imagine my life without her in it.