We are very fortunate to have a photo of her. They love that photo. Love it. They love it because I really believe there is a deep connection to their mother that they feel even so young. I feel like this connection is so vital to them, a big part of who they are, so I talk about her whenever I can.
Part of their story I feel very comfortable sharing because it is the story of every child from the orphanage we support. Their mother died giving birth to them. And like the twin girls that just arrived at the orphanage last week, they were brought there to give them a chance at life. The rest of their story and why they were adopted is theirs to share and to know.
I feel so thankful to know their story, because I am so thankful that they can know their story and know their family. Of course, they are young. They are still convinced their (first) mommy ate them and that is why they were in her tummy and not mine (that was before we changed to more literal terms to describe pregnancy!). There is a lot of pain with their story. Today I felt it acutely again. Two beautiful little girls, they faces smiling, talking a mile a minute, light shining on their braided, beaded hair and gorgeous brown skin (Mia is in her ballerina tutu that she has worn for 3 days straight). And as I talked to them about their mommy, as we looked at her picture (as they kissed and hugged the photo), I felt their loss all over again, and grief came again. I felt grief and anger that their mother died from a preventable cause. That there is such poverty that a woman can die giving birth, and though she is mourned, her death is not unexpected.
The girls are calling, it's time to play and in doing so, I will celebrate their life and the love which brought them into the world at great sacrifice.
|run, cat, run!|