Microblog Monday - And You

And You*

When I get angry at Lotus, 

or she's done something she knows 

she's not supposed to,

she will cry. 

"I want my mommy!" She'll say. 

She will say this clutching to me.

Her face

buried into my very ample stomach

and breasts. 

"I want Mommy." She cries. 

"I'm right here." I say, holding her close.

"I'm here, baby."

"I'm not leaving."

What she means sometimes is

she wants mommy, 

the one who isn't mad at her,

and is fun.

And I generally get this through my brain,

and I rock her,

and she stops crying,

and she says sorry,

and we're okay. 

Sometimes she cries for mommy

as I am holding her

and I realize there's another woman she's crying for.

a woman who she lived with for five days.

A woman whose heartbeat she heard,

while she was getting ready to be born.

A woman who chose to give birth to her, 

and then made the 

heart-wrenching

unimaginable 

decision 

to leave her to be found 

and cuddled 

and loved 

by strangers. 

Lotus cries for that mommy. 

She misses her.

That woman who looks at the world 

from eyes that are like her own.

That woman who,

I imagine,

Aches for my crying little girl

in ways I cannot imagine.

And I don't want to . 

When Lotus does this

We hug each other very hard

and send our love out

and hope China Mommy

can feel it

can understand 

this is the best I can do 

to pay the enormous debt that I owe 

this woman with 

my daughter's face. 

And one time

After being scolded

Lotus said she wanted mommy.

I realized and asked.

"China Mommy?"

She nodded.

Then

tearfully

She raised her head 

tears soaking  er face

tears soaking my breast

to look me in the eye. 

"I want China Mommy." she said 

lifting her hand to my chin

"And You."

Her head returned

just above my heart

as more tears fell. 

I held her,

and rocked her, 

and internally praised her intelligence. 

Because my four-and-a-half-year-old daughter

summed up adoption angst

in two words. 

* The style of this post is a tribute to the book Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson. I am in the middle of this amazing book told in verse so I tried to do a blog post in verse.  Was I successful?  Let me know.