I Met You Today

I met you today. In my mind I pictured walking into a home and you would be playing on the floor with other children. Just like when I met you sister what I imagined is not what happened. Both of you are much more dramatic than that.

Daddy and I went to your daycare to talk to Leng your daycare teacher. As I was parking I looked up and there was the van that would take you home. I remember feeling fear that you were already in the van and that I missed our chance to meet. Then across the driveway this older small Asian woman emerged carrying you in her arms. I couldn’t see your face but I knew it was you. My heart sank and at that moment you became mine. I ran to you as quick as I could. I remember holding the handle to the bus door as it closed so I could fit into that tiny space and see you. And I did. You were stuffed in your car seat in an oversized pink winter jacket. All I could see was your nose and your beautiful brown eyes. Your arms were sticking straight out by your sides because your winter jacket wouldn’t let you bend them. I remember taking a picture of you in my mind as I pushed the jacket out of your face. You reached for my hand and I reached for yours. I remember looking down at those cubby hands and rubbing my thumb over the deep creases in your fingers. Our eyes locked the entire time. My first words to you were, “Hi Baby Girl, Hi Ana….” said in a tone of needing acceptance from you. Daddy was able to see you from outside the van. He didn’t try to take this moment from us. He stood back and let us have it.

After the bus left Leng escorted us into her home. My first impression was I would not have chosen for you to be placed in that home but spending some time with Leng and her husband I would not have wanted to anywhere else. We were greeted at the front door by a Buddha and some other religious items. She brought us into the small kitchen where she shared information with us about you. I couldn’t understand what she was saying but I could tell from the smile on her face that her words were full of love.

You started going to their home for daycare when you were 3 months old. Leng would cook for you in the morning and every afternoon. You were a picky eat so you would just eat crackers, fried rice and bananas during the day. At naptime, you would listen to traditional Cambodian music or Leng would sing you to sleep in her native language. She explained nap time as a special time for the both of you. She laughed as she told the translator about how you say, “yes” in Cambodian when you want something or were asked a question.

At the end of the meeting, I asked Leng for a memory and a picture so that when you are bigger you will know who she is. Leng cried. Her cry was from the heart and very emotional. She said she was going to miss you and that you have her heart. Her memory she wanted to share with you was that you called her grandmother in Cambodian.

I hugged her for you. I hugged her so that I could one day share with you what it felt like to be in her arms when you ask. She is tiny. No taller than my chin. Her arms were warm and fragile but strong. All I could think when hugging her was how I hope that one day you both will have a chance to meet again.

As I look back on this experience I have to laugh. Though you and your sister were born to me in different ways there are some strong similarities. The time before you both were in my arms was not easy. You both sent me on a rollercoaster ride of emotions as well as many, many appointments. When Sophia was born she was warm and slimy and you were bundled and cold. But you both had pink noses, locked you eyes with mine and neither of you cried. I held your hand and you sisters body before you both made dramatic exists where I would have to wait, what seemed like a lifetime, to hold you both again. I loved you both as a picture before I loved you both as a person.

I know that you may never know me. You may never read this letter as it was intended; from a mother to her child. But I hope that one day this letter, re-written to reflect the experiences you had with Leng, will be read to you by whoever gets the privilege to be your mom. Though I know this is a true possibility, I will continue to believe, with a guarded heart, that you were put on this Earth for me to care for…for me to love.