Dear China Mommy - Year 5

Dear China Mommy,

Our daughter will be turning six in a few weeks. She decided she wants a bowling party and put her foot down about who will be invited.

Her whole fricking kindergarten class.

I had said, you have one person more than you are old, but she talked me around. She said she wanted these people and then Hilly.

"Who is Hilly?" I asked.

"You know her, she's the one who doesn't sit and she wanders around the room and hums a lot."

Oh. I thought. The autistic girl. I looked at her face.

"I don't think she gets invited to a lot of birthday parties, mommy. I think it makes her sad. She doesn't hurt anyone and she's not mean and I want to invite her, even if her mommy says no." I nodded. I couldn't speak, you see, because I had this lump in my throat.

Did she get this compassion from you? Did she get it from me? Did it mingle together from both of us?

So why are we inviting the whole class when she wants to invite Hilly?  So she doesn't feel singled out. Or that's what I think she was trying to tell me. Sometimes I don't understand what she's trying to communicate, but most of the time I do.

Our daughter is about three and a half feet tall. She is so graceful -- definitely your influence. Her smile can light a world.
She's lost her first tooth and the permanent one has come in crooked. Orthodontia is in our future.

She's learning to read and she says how "Words just pop out at her." as she looks around.

She asked why you left her to be found. She asked if she was bad. I was driving and I pulled over so I could stare into her eyes and tell her that it was not at all because she was bad. I told her that we would likely never know the full reasons but I had some guesses.

I think it was because she was premature. I think you were scared as hell that her lungs were underdeveloped and took her to where she could be treated. Even if it meant never seeing her again. I sometimes wonder if it was not you who took her to that place, if it was a family member who you have yet to forgive.

Her school is far more white than the daycare and pre-K she attended. She notices that. I think she's been made fun of, but if she has it's rolled off her back as our daughter does not start fights. She does tend to finish them.

Our daughter takes stalling to go to bed to an Olympic sport. But she knows that if she asks for more hugs we will give them.

Our daughter has an incredible capacity to love. She has an empathetic quality that is rare in 60 year olds, not only 6 year olds. But she has it. I believe it was put there by you, nurtured by me and her father.

Today she asked, for the n-teenth time, for me to tell her the story of when we first met. I told her again. But today she asked, Why did I stop crying when I heard you sing.

I gave a few suggestions and she kept shaking her head.

"Okay, Lotus, Why did you stop crying?"

"Because I recognized you. You weren't China Mommy, you were my mommy." She sighed as she saw my eyes fill. "Happy tears?" She asked--she's used to this by now. I nodded. We cuddled. Then she asked to send some love to you. And we hugged and sent some of our love to you.

I hope you feel the love that our daughter feels for you.

I hope you know the love and unspeakable gratitude that I feel for you.

God be with you, wherever and whatever you need,
Love
Your daughter's mommy.

Microblog Monday - The Unasked Question

Lotus is 5 now.

I'm calling this stage the question stage.
"Why are skunks stinky? Why is poopy brown? Why is it raining? Why is the sun shining? Why did that Octonaught do something?"

I love the curious mind behind the questions.
I wish she would actually listen to my answers instead of repeating the question again and again and again.

But there is one question that has not been asked.
"Why was I left to be found?'

We talk about her adoption often if not daily.

"Why do I have brown eyes?"
"Because China Mommy has brown eyes."

"Can we go visit China Mommy?"
"We don't really know who she is."
"Google her."

We talk about how she lived in the orphanage and how the Aya took care of her. We talk about Aya and how she smelled and tasted. How it is okay to miss her Aya and I'm not mad that she does. We've talked about D's biological mommy and how Grandmom adopted D just like we adopted her.

She asked me once if Daddy was mad at China mommy. Then she rephrased her question to mean his biological mommy. I said she should ask Daddy. She gave me a look and repeated the question. I said that yes, sometimes Daddy is angry at his bio mommy. Her sigh of relief was huge. I asked if she was mad at China mommy.

She gave me one of those looks--the one that makes me wonder if there could possibly be a seventy year old woman gazing out of my child's eyes. Then she nodded. I told her it's okay to be angry. Then she asked me, "Is China mommy mad at me?"

I said no. Then I braced for it. "Why did she leave me?" And it never came.

It will. I know it will. Then I will have to talk about a cultural preference for girls. I will have to explain about the one-child policy. I will have to state my own ignorance.

But until then, I'm happy and exasperated to answer the other myriad of questions she has. Like a few days ago she asked, "Mommy, what's an asshole and how come so many of them drive?"

Microblog Mondays -To China Mommy

Dear China Mommy,

Our daughter turns five in a week.

She seems to have developed a fear of heights. That is, until I sit down while she's at the playground and she is off climbing something that she maybe shouldn't be and calling for me.

I love that she pushes her own limits.

She is sounding out words and can recognize over thirty written words. She's going to be reading by herself soon and it humbles me.

Any time she thinks we're angry at her she declares that she needs a hug. We give her one.

We nurture her. We let her watch a bit too much TV, and run herd on her computer and phone time. She's friendly with a lot of the kids at school, but not a lot of playdates,  Kindergarten starts in September so I imagine that will change.

She falls down and scrapes her knees and ankles. when that happens, and there is even a spec of blood she requires a band-aid so she can't see it. My thoughts of a doctor to support us in our old age are out the window.

She hates loud noises, but will put up with them

She still does her parent checks in the middle of the night. She wakes up and asks us to tuck her in again. Actually the checks are closer to dawn. Is that when you left her in her finding spot? Was it close to dawn as you kissed her little hands and left? Did you look back? Or did you know that if you looked back you would have run and picked her up and I would not be writing this blog post, or not to you.

She asks us often why we love her. Why we like her.
I tell her.
Because she deserves love.
I tell her.
Because she is wonderful and kind and beautiful and all good things.
I tell her and I hug her.

Sometimes I get angry at you, for putting fear in our daughter.
Sometimes I feel sorry for you, because I have her, hold her, nurture her and all you can do is wonder.

I respect you.
I bless you.
I thank you.

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. 

 

Microblog Monday - If you become a teacher by your pupils you'll be taught

For the past year, one of the ways  I have been earning money is by tutoring.

I love it. I love talking with the kids and listening to them.

My favorite pupils are siblings.  The boy is a seventh grader. The girl is a high school sophomore. They are wonderful. They are first generation Chinese immigrants and after they learned that I am raising a Chinese daughter, we set aside five minutes from each lesson so they can teach me "things that a stupid American wouldn't know to teach her Chinese daughter."  (Their words, not mine, but I'm not offended.)

They also talk about how they feel and I am watching them grow, and change.

The boy. I'll call him, Rob, was monosyllabic when we met. Now he talks to me in multisyllabic words. Part of that is trust. I say with only a little pride that he trusts me. I've watched him going from regular teenage boy to activist. We cut tutoring short a few weeks ago so he could go protest at the airports.

Another boy I tutored will run for President of the United States. This is what he says and I believe him. I would vote for him--he's more mature than the person in the White House now.

Then there is the teaching of a little girl which is part of my job as mother. Since I'm not earning as much we've cut down on her Pre-K classes. She goes 3 days a week and then the other two we have as "girls days." Sometimes we sit cuddled in front of the TV.  Sometimes we go to the playground. Often we go to the library. And then there are days I teach her. I teach her about baking. I teach her about mitzvoth. I teach her about me.

And I learn.

I learn that sometimes she misses her China Mommy even though she doesn't remember her. Sometimes she wants her China Mommy, but she wants me too. I learn that sometimes it's okay just to be sad for a while. I learn that hugs are really great.

I've been debating of turning this love of individualized teaching to teaching in front of a classroom and I'm not sure. Until I am though, I like what is happening now. I like helping the kids through frustrations and I become hopeful that they will make the world they inherit better.

Microblog Monday - Mourning needs more than a hug

Lotus has been talking about China Mommy lately.

We all talk about her. She's the reason we have Lotus. She's the reason Lotus has these amazing brown eyes while D and I have blue. We talk about her like we talk about my Aunt Vivian. She is a treasured relative who we don't see much.

Yesterday Lotus said "I miss China Mommy." I gave her a hug and said that it was okay and natural and right to miss her. I suggested that we hug each other real tight and we'll send all that love over an ocean an right to China Mommy's heart. We hugged and hugged and I don't mind saying that I felt pretty good about this. I felt like I did something right.

Then last night she had a meltdown. She started screaming, crying, and I just held her and rocked her.  She didn't repeat that she missed China Mommy--she didn't have to. I've been mourning my mother for two years, I know what mourning looks like. She cried and I rocked her and held her. She let me--even though I was concerned that she would push me away. We rocked and straightened out what she didn't want to do--even though a blind man could see that wasn't what the tantrum was about.

Today on the way to school she said "I miss China Mommy." and I (behind the wheel of the car) struggled for wisdom. I said maybe when we were older we could go to China and try to find China Mommy. Then she got upset and practically broke down until I told her we could return to New Jersey.

When I dropped her off at school I sang our song "Mommy comes back." and she hugged me and kissed me. Had she broke down again I might have said fine, let's take the day off, but she was okay.

It just left me thinking that she's mourning China Mommy and will most of her life. It takes more than a hug to get through it.