Let us be like
two falling stars in the day sky.
Let no one know of our sublime beauty
as we hold hands with God
and burn
into a sacred existence that defies -
that surpasses
every description of ecstasy
and love.
~Hafiz~
translated by daniel ladinsky
Gao Mei. Five years I've waited for you, my daughter. You, who I was not expecting at all, but are everything I've ever dreamed of...
I had, in the early months of 2009, come to a place of peace about this long wait for you. After all the angst and the pendulum of emotions that come with this adoption process, some shift took place, and I found myself feeling tangibly connected to you, thinking of you, imagining you. I had no real "picture" in my mind. You were an abstract, somewhere in north China, because I knew at the very least you'd come from Henan, since my agency works in that province. But I moved through my days with a sense of you- not with me, but truly present in the world. Not some distant imaginary girl any longer. And it gave me tremendous peace. I knew you would come~when you were ready.
But on May 13, I found myself restless again. Strange. I couldn't peel myself from the computer- where I had been spending less and less time. I was constantly checking my agency website where children are posted that have more complex needs. I logged onto the waiting child yahoo board over and over for any news of people getting referrals. I was antsy. And I scoured the web for information on one special need I had been contemplating for several months. I composed an email to my agency about it, in fact, and still have it in my drafts from that date- I decided to hold off on sending it, as I wanted to talk it over with your Dad before making the decision to say yes to this need.
By the end of the day, my angst and restlessness were not put to rest. I last checked the agency listing around 4pm, and the same children from the week before were still there. No new faces. And nothing new was posted on our yahoo group- so, I finally stepped away from the computer to give my eyes a break :O) Later, your Dad came over for dinner and I talked to him briefly about this special need I was thinking of, and in his easy going fashion, he immediately said he was happy to consider it- and I thought it was best we took the weekend to discuss it, since we were going to Orlando to see your aunt and uncle and meet the directors of my agency. After dinner, (this is your mom Gao Mei, she can't help herself), I was gravitationally pulled back to the study and checked that yahoo board again- and someone posted, "I can't believe there are 23 kids on the website". I was shocked and had to go and look. Never did I dream what would happen next.
I log on and am scrolling down the page, and there is this little face, and this little smile staring back at me and these are the words that I say out loud to the room: "Oh my God it's Ellis". Now the website doesn't list your Chinese name, just a file number. I click on your picture, and the next thing I see is your birth date. The tears start flowing. I'm yelling for your Dad to come and see. And we look at the breif description of your special need:
"Repaired meningocele with large hairy nevus, brittle bone disease (we later find out you do not have this), obstructed leg movement".
Spina bifida. The stack of papers I'd printed that day is on top of the desk. The draft to my agency about that need is sitting in my email.
Despite my fear, I know I have to call. But first Aunt Karen. I'm scared but something is telling me, this is YOU. My daughter. OUR girl. Aunt Karen looks and says, "You have to call". So we do, leaving a message for my agency, and by Friday, May 15th, your file is on its way to us.
And here is where the real story begins.
On the day you were born, Gao Mei, I was driving home at 3:30 in the morning or so, after praying at the bedside of your grandma, who had just left this life for the next... January 17, 2006. On that gentle morning, ambling down a quiet state road, through a thin morning fog that blanketed the tips of the trees, I saw a brilliant shooting star and in my grief, I smiled. At the time, I attached little meaning to that star except to let it affirm for me that God was with me. That in the deep of that night, I was not alone on that road. Two years later, on January 25, 2008, I filled out the paperwork necessary to adopt a "waiting child"... a child with medical needs. You. And on that night, Gao Mei, driving home once again, I saw a more brilliant star fall- and it trailed the sky for so long it changed color, and I was certain it would make contact with earth! Immediately I was reminded of that night your grandma left this earth, and knew that somehow the universe was smiling down on us- on me- letting me know I had made the right decision. Because you see, I knew at the time you were already in this world. I've gone back to the old blog entries and my journals, and it's written right there, my sense of urgency, that I had to switch to the waiting child program, and that "I sensed you were a 'bit' older"... my words.
Your name speaks to me as well. It's a small thing, perhaps, but I'd always planned to call you Ellis Gail (and then your Chinese name). But Gao is so similar to Gail, the name of your grandmother. And I am so in love with your beautiful name, I can't imagine adding anything additional to it.
People who have read this blog might remember this, but I'm a butterfly girl... mostly because of the way they speak to me about transformation and new life. In the summer of 2008, I had a very powerful dream about an amazing butterfly that transformed into a little girl of about 4 years old, and in that dream, I said that the dream was a symbol that represented my daugther, who would be reborn into new life. What were the chances, that of all the little girls in China, I would find you? The one who had her face painted with a beautiful butterfly on it? When I first saw this photo, it brought tears to my eyes- again, it was as though God was saying to me, to us, "this is the girl of your heart, the one meant to be raised by you".
I have been blessed because of where you live and the kind of love and care you have been showered with to recieve so many photos and even a number of videos of you. You are so full of life, Gao Mei! You remind me constantly of the power of the human spirit to overcome- I will never forget the update our agency sent, before we said yes to your file- and in it was a picture just before you were taken into surgery at 8 months old. It was a photo of the mass on your back. My agency warned me before I opened that attachment. They said it would be hard to look at- and I am shedding tears as I type this. Because you know what I saw? I saw in that mass only the bravery of a little girl. I saw a hero. I saw my bright light. And my miracle. My heart swelled with pride for all that you faced and how you not only have endured, but how you have SHINED.
Since saying yes to you, it hasn't been all sunshine and roses. I am scared too, just like you will be. Just after saying yes in fact, I went into a bit of a panic, and found myself sitting with your picture for a long time, crying, feeling guitly that I could be so afraid. Where was the elation? Why Didn't people talk about this part? But then I started talking to you- and thanking you for being so happy, for teaching me already about courage. I laughed and said I knew already that you were so much braver than me. And I realized it's okay to be scared. It's normal, we can grieve and be scared together. We have our challenges ahead. I welcome them, because I know the rewards of your smile alone will always outshine any challenge we face. Waiting to bring you home is hard, but I'm glad to have this time to get ready, to make our home as warm and welcoming and as comfortable for you as we can...
I can't wait to start our lives. I can't wait to see how you'll break our whole world open, and show it to us, anew.
You, my butterfly girl and little rock star.
two falling stars in the day sky.
Let no one know of our sublime beauty
as we hold hands with God
and burn
into a sacred existence that defies -
that surpasses
every description of ecstasy
and love.
~Hafiz~
translated by daniel ladinsky
Gao Mei. Five years I've waited for you, my daughter. You, who I was not expecting at all, but are everything I've ever dreamed of...
I had, in the early months of 2009, come to a place of peace about this long wait for you. After all the angst and the pendulum of emotions that come with this adoption process, some shift took place, and I found myself feeling tangibly connected to you, thinking of you, imagining you. I had no real "picture" in my mind. You were an abstract, somewhere in north China, because I knew at the very least you'd come from Henan, since my agency works in that province. But I moved through my days with a sense of you- not with me, but truly present in the world. Not some distant imaginary girl any longer. And it gave me tremendous peace. I knew you would come~when you were ready.
But on May 13, I found myself restless again. Strange. I couldn't peel myself from the computer- where I had been spending less and less time. I was constantly checking my agency website where children are posted that have more complex needs. I logged onto the waiting child yahoo board over and over for any news of people getting referrals. I was antsy. And I scoured the web for information on one special need I had been contemplating for several months. I composed an email to my agency about it, in fact, and still have it in my drafts from that date- I decided to hold off on sending it, as I wanted to talk it over with your Dad before making the decision to say yes to this need.
By the end of the day, my angst and restlessness were not put to rest. I last checked the agency listing around 4pm, and the same children from the week before were still there. No new faces. And nothing new was posted on our yahoo group- so, I finally stepped away from the computer to give my eyes a break :O) Later, your Dad came over for dinner and I talked to him briefly about this special need I was thinking of, and in his easy going fashion, he immediately said he was happy to consider it- and I thought it was best we took the weekend to discuss it, since we were going to Orlando to see your aunt and uncle and meet the directors of my agency. After dinner, (this is your mom Gao Mei, she can't help herself), I was gravitationally pulled back to the study and checked that yahoo board again- and someone posted, "I can't believe there are 23 kids on the website". I was shocked and had to go and look. Never did I dream what would happen next.
I log on and am scrolling down the page, and there is this little face, and this little smile staring back at me and these are the words that I say out loud to the room: "Oh my God it's Ellis". Now the website doesn't list your Chinese name, just a file number. I click on your picture, and the next thing I see is your birth date. The tears start flowing. I'm yelling for your Dad to come and see. And we look at the breif description of your special need:
"Repaired meningocele with large hairy nevus, brittle bone disease (we later find out you do not have this), obstructed leg movement".
Spina bifida. The stack of papers I'd printed that day is on top of the desk. The draft to my agency about that need is sitting in my email.
Despite my fear, I know I have to call. But first Aunt Karen. I'm scared but something is telling me, this is YOU. My daughter. OUR girl. Aunt Karen looks and says, "You have to call". So we do, leaving a message for my agency, and by Friday, May 15th, your file is on its way to us.
And here is where the real story begins.
On the day you were born, Gao Mei, I was driving home at 3:30 in the morning or so, after praying at the bedside of your grandma, who had just left this life for the next... January 17, 2006. On that gentle morning, ambling down a quiet state road, through a thin morning fog that blanketed the tips of the trees, I saw a brilliant shooting star and in my grief, I smiled. At the time, I attached little meaning to that star except to let it affirm for me that God was with me. That in the deep of that night, I was not alone on that road. Two years later, on January 25, 2008, I filled out the paperwork necessary to adopt a "waiting child"... a child with medical needs. You. And on that night, Gao Mei, driving home once again, I saw a more brilliant star fall- and it trailed the sky for so long it changed color, and I was certain it would make contact with earth! Immediately I was reminded of that night your grandma left this earth, and knew that somehow the universe was smiling down on us- on me- letting me know I had made the right decision. Because you see, I knew at the time you were already in this world. I've gone back to the old blog entries and my journals, and it's written right there, my sense of urgency, that I had to switch to the waiting child program, and that "I sensed you were a 'bit' older"... my words.
Your name speaks to me as well. It's a small thing, perhaps, but I'd always planned to call you Ellis Gail (and then your Chinese name). But Gao is so similar to Gail, the name of your grandmother. And I am so in love with your beautiful name, I can't imagine adding anything additional to it.
People who have read this blog might remember this, but I'm a butterfly girl... mostly because of the way they speak to me about transformation and new life. In the summer of 2008, I had a very powerful dream about an amazing butterfly that transformed into a little girl of about 4 years old, and in that dream, I said that the dream was a symbol that represented my daugther, who would be reborn into new life. What were the chances, that of all the little girls in China, I would find you? The one who had her face painted with a beautiful butterfly on it? When I first saw this photo, it brought tears to my eyes- again, it was as though God was saying to me, to us, "this is the girl of your heart, the one meant to be raised by you".
I have been blessed because of where you live and the kind of love and care you have been showered with to recieve so many photos and even a number of videos of you. You are so full of life, Gao Mei! You remind me constantly of the power of the human spirit to overcome- I will never forget the update our agency sent, before we said yes to your file- and in it was a picture just before you were taken into surgery at 8 months old. It was a photo of the mass on your back. My agency warned me before I opened that attachment. They said it would be hard to look at- and I am shedding tears as I type this. Because you know what I saw? I saw in that mass only the bravery of a little girl. I saw a hero. I saw my bright light. And my miracle. My heart swelled with pride for all that you faced and how you not only have endured, but how you have SHINED.
Since saying yes to you, it hasn't been all sunshine and roses. I am scared too, just like you will be. Just after saying yes in fact, I went into a bit of a panic, and found myself sitting with your picture for a long time, crying, feeling guitly that I could be so afraid. Where was the elation? Why Didn't people talk about this part? But then I started talking to you- and thanking you for being so happy, for teaching me already about courage. I laughed and said I knew already that you were so much braver than me. And I realized it's okay to be scared. It's normal, we can grieve and be scared together. We have our challenges ahead. I welcome them, because I know the rewards of your smile alone will always outshine any challenge we face. Waiting to bring you home is hard, but I'm glad to have this time to get ready, to make our home as warm and welcoming and as comfortable for you as we can...
I can't wait to start our lives. I can't wait to see how you'll break our whole world open, and show it to us, anew.
You, my butterfly girl and little rock star.
