Does she love me yet?

Deciding to adopt isn't something that was one of those "PRESTO" moments for me. I had always assumed that i would adopt a child; yet no one in my family adopted and i didn't know anyone as a child who did so i'm not sure where this desire came from. But it's always been there...lurking, just waiting for the right moment in my life to pursue it. I wanted to be in a place that was a good place for a child to be, a safe place to raise a child, and a place where i could afford to raise a child. It took me a very long time to get to that type place in my life.

As a first time parent and a first time adoptive parent, there were so many questions that i had. Most of these questions were answered by books that i read or by other adoptive mothers that became my friends. Questions like "When do you take a child to the doctor?" or "Why is their poop green?" can be answered quickly. But the one question that stayed with me that i asked no one was "Will this child love me as it's Mother?". It almost seemed that it was a question that the answer was obvious to; yet, i never asked it as it was the most serious of all of the questions that i had. I felt confident that i could be a Mommy. I felt confident that i could take care and love this child. And although those two questions had answers that i sometimes doubted; i knew in my heart that i was where i needed to be.

The first time we met Emma was on a Wednesday morning at 11am. I remember sneaking a peek through the peep hole at our hotel room door and seeing two women come out of the elevator; one of them was holding a tiny baby with a head full of dark, dark hair. I knew instantly this was Emma and i caught my breath. There she was. My daughter. Robert and i went into the room where we were to meet her...she was so tiny, dressed in a yellow and green outfit with a daisy on the front of it, wrapped up in a bright yellow blanket. Our agency rep carefully put Emma in my arms and i remember her looking directly in my eyes as if to say "Are you here for me?". I cuddled her and held her little hand and then let Robert hold her. Emma was then placed gently in my arms and she and i went into the next room together alone. Robert and my sister stayed to listen to all of the details about Emma's schedule. I, however, wanted to hold this little, beautiful dark headed baby with the dark beautiful eyes...

As Emma and i cuddled in the big, ugly overstuffed chair, she nestled into my chest. Still staring at me, she grabbed on to one of my fingers and then gently closed her eyes and fell asleep. I remember praying over her, asking God to guide us on this new journey that we were starting together, to help me be the Mommy she needed me to be. As Emma slept, i memorized her features. Her tiny nose, her perfect lips, her eyelashes, her little chin and cute fingers and toes. But as i did this, my question that i hadn't found an answer to yet bubbled up into my perfect moment: "Will she come to love me? Will i be the one that she runs to for comfort and for kisses and hugs? Will she call me "Mommy?"? It was so important to me to be a good Mother, a good parent to this little child. It was the one thing that i refused to get wrong.

I knew the reasons that Emma was placed for adoption. Those are her private reasons to share, but i couldn't help but think about Emma's birth mother S-how she was doing, if she was okay, did she know that this little one was safe, being cared for and loved? I would have given anything to meet Emma's birth mother but no one listened to my request. I was pretty much ignored and told that "a meeting could not be arranged". No reason given, just "a meeting could not be arranged". I wanted to look S in her eyes and promise her that i would love, take care of, and cherish this child that i now held. That i would teach her Spanish, i would bring her back to Guatemala and show her the beauty of Guatemala, that i would make sure that Emma knew about her birth mother and see the few photos that i had. I would make sure that Emma knew we named her after her Guatemalan Grandmother and my mother and that we kept the name that S had given her. I wish that i had been given the chance to meet S...maybe one day i will.

I also couldn't help but wonder if Emma knew that i wasn't S. I knew that babies had a keen sense of smell...and i was sure that S and i didn't smell the same, sound the same, feel the same to Emma. Was Emma wondering where S was? And who was this strange new woman calling herself Mommy who kept crying and kissing her? Was Emma scared? Did she feel safe? And who was that big man with the new woman? I don't know how much a four and a half month old child thinks...but i just had a terrible feeling that she was scared. So, i just held her. I held her as much as i could, whispering to her, singing to her, praying over her as often as i could. Did it help? Sometimes, i don't think it did. Emma seemed to know that something was amiss and no amount of singing, holding or praying over her would change that.

Coming home with Emma was amazing. Her room was almost done; all was left was to finish painting the tree mural. The days seem to fly by with me learning Emma. I learned to change diapers in a flash, have bottles made in advance, how to bathe her and how to shop with her. I learned to be a stay-at-home Mommy instead of a working gal. As much as i cuddled her, though, it was only occasionally that i felt her totally relax against me. She would fall asleep in my arms at bed time, holding on to my fingers. And i would go into her room to watch her sleep nightly....praying over her.

As time went on, i realized that it was my job to tend to Emma's every need and i did. I didn't understand at this point what i've recently learned: It was also my job to teach this little one how to love, how to show affection. At four, five, six months, babies will smile at you, but i don't think that they know how to "do" affection. Yeah, i was a first time Mommy, what can i say? This stuff wasn't in the books. Some babies are cuddlers, some are not. Some babies love to be rocked, some like to be held and rocked. For me to expect this child to "love" me at that age was insane, i think. And of course, really, was it my selfishness to want this child to love me instantly? I think that yes, it was selfishness and immaturity on my part.

I still, of course, kept asking the question to myself "Does she love me now? How about today? Does she love me today as Mommy?". I would stare at her sometimes, wondering if i knew how to teach this child love. I still never spoke to anyone about my questions, my worries. All of the other adoptive Moms i knew seemed to be rolling along just fine without any worries. So, i kept quiet and kept asking these questions quietly to myself for many, many months.

It is only now that Emma is two years old that i can "see" it. She gives me kisses. She calls me "Mama". She hugs me. She looks for me for comfort. She comes to me when she's scared or upset. She comes to me when she's happy. She comes to me when she's mad as a hornet. Love, it seems, is a learning process for a child and showing love is a even bigger learning process. But this love thing with Emma and i is the best thing that has ever happened to me. It has taught me more about love and unconditional love than i could have ever imagined. It has also taught me patience, tenderness and the art of showing love in ways a child can understand. Words can be spoken all day long, but till you SHOW love, well, i don't know if it can truly be understood by a child.

Life is good now with it's daily ups and downs. Our home is filled with giggles, laughter, stuffed animals,tons of books to read, Dora, The Wonder Pets and potty training stuff. It's filled with us singing songs about Jesus loving the little children and Old McDonald's farm with the animal sounds. It's filled with so many things, but the greatest thing that this home is filled with is love.

Lots of love.