i love you, mama
She squeezed just a bit, and she patted her little hands on the back of my legs. Then she looked way up into my eyes,
kiss kiss, please
I crouched down and looked into her eyes, and she looked into mine.
I kissed her, dried snot and old cream cheese and all. How could I resist?
Then she trotted off as quickly as she came and went back to stacking up the Lego's.
This post is for the docs who said autism.
It's for the gal from social services who sat in my home that asked me if we wanted to consider residential treatment.
For the therapist that asked me if we were thinking about disrupting this adoption.
This one's for them. - You folks knew little to nothing about international adoption and what institutionalism can do to a child. This is for a whole community who had so so little to offer when a family, when my family was desperately reaching out for knowledge and guidance. You knew nothing about what a child can look like or act like when they are still in that limbo of being wrapped with the love of a family but imprinted by the memories of an orphanage... and isolation... and abandonment... and malnutrition.
My baby girl. I just wasn't there yet.