The Trip We Almost Didn't Take

I am propped up in bed in a darkened hotel room, the rhythm of ocean waves finally having lulled my two little ones to sleep. My heart is so full, and I want to believe I'll take the time when I get home to record the reflections of this rare quiet moment, but I am too experienced. If not now, probably never. Since tomorrow will come soon, I will lead with headlines.

Exposure

Morgan has had no earth-shattering experiences this week. I have to be careful not to drive the boat on this one. I did ask a few times though, "What has it been like to be with so many other kids like you adopted from India?" Her reply is a standing refrain in recent months: "you wanted to hold me bad, mom, didn't you...when I was in India?" 

"Yes, sweetheart." 

" And their mom and dad wanted to hold them?"

"Yes, they did."

"Can we go swimming now pleeeease?"

"Camp isn't over yet."

"What's next?"

"We finish practice, eat lunch, and have the performance."

"And then we can go swimming?"

"Yes."

"So three things. 1 - lunch. 2 - performance. 3 - go swimming. Right?"
"Right." 

Repeat 25 times. (No exaggeration.)

Here is what I saw though. I watched her doted on by older adoptees, including the two precious sisters who traveled with us. 

Every time she looks at them and sees an older version of herself reflected back, I know it shapes her sense of self and her psyche. I'm looking forward to hearing her new questions and thoughts in the weeks and months ahead as this experience settles into her being.

Morgan's little brother adores her, and he's gotten to be exposed to music, dance, art, clothing, and practices of the country that shared his sister with us. One day I hope we can take them both on a birth land tour to India. In the meantime, he has soaked it all in.

The younger kids did a fashion show for their part in the performance. This was Brennan's big move.

Morgan was in the oldest group, and they did a Bollywood skit about thwarted young love. The rich parents did not want their son to marry a poor girl, but when they tasted the best cup of chai ever, they suddenly were willing to give his hand to whoever could make such a delish chai. Think Cinderella and glass slipper. 

To my Morgan, aka, a girl in the market: "did you make this tea?"

Morgan, ad-libbing as she does best and with a huge grin:

"I don't think so!"
(Looking at me in the audience) "Hey mom, did YOU make it?"

My Morgan always gets folks to laugh, and she laughs the loudest. She is our comedian.

Crib Mates

I have been a co-teacher in a class this week, so I didn't get to the meet-n-greets or seminars. It was serendipitous, therefore, that I sat down to our delicious catered Indian meal today across the table from the mom of one of Morgan's crib mates. She asked Morgan's birthdate and then said her daughter was a mere month older. It turns out that she held my sweet baby before I did when she went to bring home her own daughter in January '05. We traveled that May, but four months felt like forever then. She took pictures of the babies still waiting to go home, and we were recipients of such pictures. She told me things I never knew -- that her daughter and my daughter slept in the same crib sometimes and that both girls loved to blow raspberries at each other. I remember those raspberries. 

I didn't ask permission to share her daughter's photo, so I won't add it here, but I will comment on personality. This young girl who is as tall as Morgan is petite shares Morgan's love of people and friendliness. Before I knew who she was, she had come up to me, introduced herself and started asking questions. Most of the other kids were more reserved. Obviously our two rubbed off on each other during their crib time!

So much has happened since then, and I am a much wiser parent and person than I ever could have imagined back then when I was unsure even of how to fix her diaper. We have learned how to navigate epilepsy and the struggles that come with developmental challenges, and through all of it, I have seen my daughter's strength and persistence grow. Her beauty radiates inside out.

Thank you, Dillon International, for making adoption and this week possible. I remember, tonight and many nights as I kiss her goodnight, Morgan's birth parents with gratitude and hope.  And in all of the tangled feelings of grief and joy, losses and gifts that make up this adoption journey, I continue to give thanks, oh God, giver of life. Thank you for trips almost not taken.