Dear Noah Hojawaka,

21,901 days ago, somewhere in Ethiopia, your birth mother pushed you into the world. This is what I wrote this summer about this day,

The  pain ripped through her heart
more than it ripped through
her womb.
The thought of a life born and
given a way
at the same time
A dream long dreamt;
a nightmare forever
lived.

He wondered where she had
gone and if she had
given birth yet?
Was she able to surrender
the baby that was
theirs?
A child that would always
be theirs and never
know them.

He felt her tears wet on
his face as she
prepared to leave.
He suckled and gazed at
her face.  A face
he would forget.
His loss one that he would not
recognize or realize
until much later.

I cannot believe how much you have changed through the years.  You have grown so much, so fast.  You are the kindest child and such a good friend.  You are a perfectionist and often bang you head or hand in frustration as you learn a new song on the piano–my own little Schroeder.  But then you get the song right and you are on top of the world.  Your determination and quest for perfection will serve you well in this world that will often seem to be working against you.  It will also cause you great heartache as you find things you just can’t master.  I will let you find your own successes and failures and to define them as well.  So far, you are doing it amazingly well.

Last night, on you final night of being 4, I snuggled in bed with you and told you how proud I was of you.  You innocently asked me “for what mama?” To which I replied, “I’m proud of how kind you are and what a good friend and brother you are.  I’m proud that you respect other peoples feelings and how good you are growing up.”  I cried a little in your bed as you drifted off to sleep on the eve of being 5.  Not because you are growing up (although that’s certainly enough reason) but I cried because your Ethiopian mom can’t share this will us.  I wish with all my heart, I could tell her how amazing you are and that she could look into those amazing eyes and see the purity of your soul and character.  I wish I could tell her what a great boy you are.  I wish I could thank her for her sacrifice.  I wish she could feel your love.  I wish she could feel mine.

You are learning to read, ever so slowly and I am sorry that I don’t have more time to teach you to read.  But I believe that when you are home you should be able to play and I know that you’ll be reading soon enough and I don’t want to push too hard.  Maybe these are excuses I am making up, because I love watching you play and have fun.  Maybe I’m lazy.

This year you have graciously agreed to forgo presents at your birthday party with  your friends in favor of collecting monetary donations for Ethiopia.  This has made me so very proud and it’s also something I wish your Ethiopian mother could know.  You have taken pride in the idea that you are raising money for Ethiopia.  I love that we have been able to instill in you a love of Ethiopia and feelings of wanting to give back to the country and people who have given us so much.  We will be making our donation in honor of your Ethiopian mother–it is the least we can do.

Oh how your sense of humor has developed.  Every once in a while, I’ll hear you laugh while watching SpongeBob and it makes me smile that you are starting to get humor and comedy.  You love a good joke and try to make up your own and it’s pretty amusing. You and S are still best friends and talk about getting married.  You also fight and disagree and it’s just as cute as when you hold hands.  You’re a good one Noah.  Stay that way.

You have moved from super heroes to Star Wars and Legos are your go to toy these days.  You are becoming more and more adventurous with eating and I have to say that you really are an amazing kid and I am so lucky to get to be your mom.  You love basketball and are looking forward to flag football.  You can dance with the best of them and have some great hip-hop moves that I have no idea how you learned because your dad and I can’t dance to save our lives.

I love you Noah.  I love being your mom.  I love being your family.  You were meant to be our kid.  I am so lucky to get to be your mom.  I hope you always know how much I love, respect and honor your Ethiopian mom.

Keep growing Noah–you have done both of your mom’s proud.

Love,
Mama