Buna bebe (hello, baby).

Buna Bebe! Ce faci acum? It has been several months since I have thought of you and become overwhelemed by emotion. Tonight I was lying in bed picturing myself walking down out of the apartment bloc behind the Hala Centrala and all the way up to Sfanta Maria's to visit you. I tried to picture each street and what it looked like and the way the hospital looked from down the hill. I tried to smell the smell of medicine and food that was always present the minute I walked in. I pictured myself changing into my scrubs in one of the bathrooms that wreaked like nobody's business in ten seconds flat and then charging off to the staircase to head up to the 3rd floor, right wing to see my boy:)

I would already be sweating at this point due to a lack of air conditioning, the exercise of walking there in the heat and then walking up stairs, and probably from the extra stress associated with the language barrier and not knowing if we would go looking for one of our regular kiddos only to be told they're gone. I almost had a panic attack one day when I thought they were taking you away. You were getting in a wheelchair to get on the elevator with some doctors and as I came up the last stair you said, "Uite! Feta!" I waved at you and then they took you on the elevator. My tears followed the downward path of the elevator. I was a zombie that afternoon until later I discovered they had just taken you out back to get some fresh air and let you play!

Tonight as I laid in bed I pictured your face in my mind over and over again and that toothy grin you have. I have dreams, Andrei, where Teo is flying you from Romania to America to come live with me after I get married. I am pacing the waiting area until the carpet is rubbed off and I'm wearing my blue scrubs with the white Y on the left pocket. I feel panicky and anxious and excited so much that I'm sure I'm going to pass out or get sick. I just can't wait to see you come through that gate and exit the plane and into my arms. First, you don't seem to recognize me but then I show you the Y, and I can see the light bulb turn on in your head as you run at me with a big toothy grin and yell,"Feta! Hai, hai, mergem afara. Nu-ei frig afara!!"

Sometimes I ache for you so much I'm not sure it's healthy. How do I explain my love for an orphaned child like that? I fear that I won't even love my own children as much as I loved you, although I'm sure that is an irrational fear. It's amazing how to feel the most joy with someone you have to feel the most awful pain upon separation. I wonder if you remember me now. I wish I had given you my scrub top to keep when you left for your foster home. Someitmes I wonder why God put you in my path on this earth life. I have a feeling my memories of you and the things I recorded in my journal about you will help me through so much in the life I have ahead of me. It already has. I was so depressed when I came home I could hardly get out of bed before noon. I ditched half of my classes in the first week of school (TOTALLY uncharacteristic of me. You can ask ANYONE). I felt such an overwhelming loss in my life. I cried for my babies in Romania and I cried because I could not function well enough to do school at that time. I was a mess to say the least.

It has been a long hard journey pulling out of that and figuring out how to cherish precious memories but rise above the depression and see the world in a good light. I was given so many gifts while I struggled: Friends (Cate, Katherine, Russ, Drew, Erich, Matt, Megan, Bre, Rosie, Branda, Trisha, Brit, Rachel, Keilani), Family (Matt, Michelle, John, Mom, Dad, Mary, Kudos (the dog)), a great therapist who guided me in my emotional recovery, a bishop who listened, a full time job offering at an early childhood learning center, and of course, the ultimate gift of all: the Atonement of Christ.

Tonight I ache for you, Andrei, because I want to hold you in my arms one last time. I want to literally have you in my arms. I'm tired of dreaming about it. I want it to be REAL. And it makes me cry so hard because I know it can't happen. I will have a lot of money saved up by next summer after I graduate. Maybe I could come and live with Teo for a bit and see if we could track you down somehow. Maybe the nurses kept records of where you went or know the woman who took you. But what then? Then I just have to leave you  again and try to come to terms with this all over again. I've tried to decide whether or not to use your name for one of my boys' names when I have children. Part of me wants to keep it separate so your memory is not erased with a real Andrei. The name has so much meaning to me. I've thought about putting your photos up on my house wall and having a whole family section for you and your "baby" photos with your name stenciled across it. That way you are a part of the family and we aren't recycling your name. You are still the only you.


I miss you so much, bebe. I would have done anything within my power to bring you home with me and figure out a way to adopt you after I get married and can better support you. No child's spirit ever penetrated through my heart quite like yours and I'm not certain why. One of my goals in going to Romania was to fully open my heart of service and truly love those I served. You taught me what love really is. And the best part is I bet you didn't know it. You were too busy eating biscuits and checking out how many crayons I brought you to color with.

Just know that tonight I ache and cry for you because I miss you so much. All I ever wish for in life is that you are given the best opportunities possible and that you grow up a good man who treats women with respect and that you start your own family. I pray that you stumble across the gospel somehow and that you become one of the faithful priesthood holders in Romania. I love you so much and I think of you always.

Cu Drag,
Feta

Here I am in Preschool again

Friday was my first day in preschool since . . . about 17 years ago. Actually, it is a daycare/ early childhood learning center where I was just offered a job, so I get to help take care of 14 3-year-olds from 8:30 am to 5:30 pm. I would have thought after going to Romania and working in the orphanage that childcare would never seem difficult again. Friday proved me wrong. Thank you, Friday, for keeping me humble.

Within the first hour a little boy had stuck a pebble up his nose and then we had to have a group discussion with the head teacher about how we never stick ANYTHING in our body parts, to which the little boy kept saying "I did." Then all 14 of them had free play and toys and books were scattered throughout the room amidst plenty of episodoes of yelling and crying and "He hit me's." The potty is in constant use and there is nearly always a child waiting on another outside the door, followed by a 15 minute hand-washing ritual during which they sing their ABC's but have to start over every time they forget what comes next.

Since I'm new a lot of the children think I will go easy on them and not make them clean up or get in trouble, so when HT (head teacher) tells them to do something they come shyly to me to get out of it. I don't know how manny times I said, "you need to listen to miss HT. She told you to ___. Nap time is a blast trying to get all of them lying quietly on a mat so they can fall asleep. Miss HT took her lunch break and left me alone with them while a few were still awake. This was when they decided to get up and walk around waking some of their friends up while I reprimanded in a whispered voice and frantically tried to keep order. The afternoon was full of chaos and snack time and more chaos, which was followed by a potty accident and finally all the children grabbed a book and read quietly (or looked at pictures) by themselves as parents kept picking more of them up.

I came home wondering why I wanted a job and reminded myself that a paycheck will be nice to get every 2 weeks. Plus, the first day is always the hardest right? I love career exploration:)