Akash

In the middle of Old Dhaka, down a very noisy, narrow and crowded alley, there is a house. The rooms are full of women and children who come for many reasons. For some, it is to be near the hospital where a sick child is being cared for. For some, it is a safe place to nurture the unborn life within them, a place where they are treated with love and not shame. It has become a home for abandoned children and a transitioning place for orphans. Some friends and I spent some time walking through the different rooms. There were several classes going on and the younger children were very enthusiastic about singing for us. I noticed an older girl sitting with them who has hydrocephalus. I am fairly certain I saw her 10 years ago when we visited and she was then quite small. Her mother abandoned her at the hospital at birth, when she saw there was something wrong with her. She has spent her whole life at the house. Her movements were slow but she was full of life and kept starting new songs for the children to sing for us.

We passed some unwed expectant mothers on the stairs and my heart nearly broke to see how young they are. In a culture where the girl is nearly always blamed for such things (though it is rarely her fault, from what I have seen and heard) I cannot imagine what they must be going through. Upstairs we came to a room for handicapped children. My first thoughts were , " I don't know what to do here." As I started to interact with them, I began to see more than twisted bodies that needed to have their diapers changed and their teeth brushed. I saw gorgeous smiles, brilliant minds and the capacity for deep feelings, both joy and sorrow. This morning I was reading how God chose things despised by the world, things that counts as nothing at all to bring to nothing what we think important. I thought to myself, " Yes, that is them all right." I had to think of the one girl who could barely sit, who was copying the drumming patterns I was doing on the floor. She was brilliant! Another mischievous little one kept throwing her toy so that I would pick it up and give it back to her. She had a delightful laugh! Another one was talking to me in her own way, only I was not so brilliant when it came to understanding her. Then there was the little boy who was crying his little heart out, feeling so unloved and uncared for. They said he gets really jealous if others are getting attention and he is not. The poor dear. He wasn't just crying because of the rejection of the moment, he was feeling a lifetime of rejection and his pain went deep. These children feel so deeply, are so aware of life and what really matters. There is nothing stupid about them.

We went on and found a few toddlers, but by this age, if they are normal, most have been adopted. A young mother came over with her darling newborn son. As my friends took turns holding him, I asked her if she had given him a name yet. She told me his name is Akash, which means "sky". I was excited because that is Pruitt's Bengali name so we talked about that a bit. I found some more babies to hold; they were all so adorable! There seemed to be a mixture of mothers and volunteers, checking on the babies, changing and feeding them. It was beautiful to watch. After a while, the Sister in charge of the ward came in and changed little Akash. She had a small audience and I wondered what was going on. Soon I noticed his mother was there, talking and shedding some tears. It was then that I realized she was saying good bye. We had just been talking about the adoption process with one of the Sisters and suddenly it was happening before our eyes. It was so hard to see it from this end. Soon we were all crying with the mother. Her pain was so real. But what strength, what bravery, and what love! She knew if she kept him, he would be treated shamefully as he grew up. By giving him away to a family who is going to great lengths to make it appear that he is their birth child, he will have a chance to grow up with dignity.

When I see my own Akash and when I see a gorgeous blue sky, I am reminded of a brave mother who loved her son enough to give him away. I have even more respect for families on both ends of adoption. My brother and his wife are in the process of 2 adoptions at the moments and through the last 18 months I have gotten a glimpse of the excitement, the unending paperwork and expenses, the heartrending long waits, the eagerness, the thrill of the words "we have a girl!"

Kudos to all you out there who have the courage and love to pursue adoption. You are doing a beautiful thing. And to those have given your child up, for reasons others may not understand, you have so much courage. To those of you who have been adopted, you can hold on to feelings of rejection or you can trade them in for the realization that you are wanted more than most of us.

To the rest of you, if you know anyone in the adoption process, find ways to support them. No one should have to go through labor and delivery of any kind alone.

To Baby Blue and your brand new baby sister, we love you so much and are so so happy that you are going to be part of our family. Your cousins can not wait to come home and meet you! Neither can I.

To Baby Akash and his mother, you will always have a place in my heart.