Serious, pensive, silent, barely crawling, unresponsive, sick, scared, food issues, underdeveloped, desperate for affection...and yet, obviously loved by her orphanage caretakers. (Note: the baby room in the Cenxi City orphanage is now closed, since all abandoned newborns are immediately moved into foster care.)
AFTER
Chatterbox, Miss Independent, fearless, happy, Wigglemaniac, potty trained, developmentally on target, mermaid, dress-up queen, Daddy's little girl...and obviously loved by family and friends.
My gosh...it's been two years from today that we received THE CALL. One of the little old ladies who was with us that day has since passed away. We're eight months waiting for Madeleine, and no closer to her. We're getting ready for Emily's 3rd birthday party this weekend...a dress-up tea party that promises to be lots of fun. The sheer awe of having her has mellowed into a feeling of sheer family love.
I find myself thinking of her birth mother more and more, wondering how often she thinks of Emily. How her hair feels so silky after it dries...how soft and light her eyebrows are...that adorable, round little bottom...her tiny, muscular calves...that pouty face she makes when she doesn't want to share...what it feels like to brush her tears away...and to hold her, squeeze her, hug and kiss her...and her ensuing giggles of delight. I read a book on American birth mothers and how they felt the loss the rest of their lives. I wish I could tell her birth mother, "she's happy, she's healthy, and she's incredibly loved. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for your incredible gift." But there's just silence.
Happy Anniversary to all you adoptive moms and dads who received THE CALL this week. What a wild ride it's been...and continues to be...
Love,
Caroline
