A letter to Rose-- February 28th

Dear Rose,

Let's talk Mamas.

A year ago, you were growing in your first Mama's tummy. There's so much about her that we don't know-- her name, what she looked like, what hopes and wishes she had for you.

All that we know is that on the night of April 9th, you were found outside an apartment building, dressed in warm clothes and swaddled in a pink blanket.

The doctor who examined you that night thinks you were two days old.

We don't know why your first Mama couldn't keep you. We don't know if you have brothers or sisters. All we know is that we are so grateful that she carried you for nine months, delivered you safely, and had you put in a place where you would be found.

You experienced a major loss before most babies here in the United States are even released from the hospital.

I know I'll never be able to entirely make up for that loss.

But I hope that I can give you the space to grieve, and the assurance that you are a most loved, most wanted, most prayed for blessing in our lives. I can give you the chance to ask hard questions, even if I don't know the answers, even if there aren't any answers.

We can honor your first Mama together. She gave you life, and brought your adorable, sparkly little self into this world. She won't be forgotten, brushed under the rug, or dishonored in any way.

We will also remember all of the women who cared for you for the last ten months-- who fussed over you as you slowly learned to take your bottle, who got you ready to be adopted when you were just a little bitty bit, who keep you clean and safe, who even dressed you up for Chinese New Year and fed you cake. They've been such an important part of your life for the last year-- they are the only people you know, and we're about to take that small bit of comfort and security away from you.

I don't expect you to like it. I don't expect you to like me at first.

But that's okay, because you are already written in my heart. And we'll get through these tough next few weeks and months, and any tough moments that come thereafter.

Love,

Mommy