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I asked her to please forward me her file, and I would look at it and let her know by Monday. I expect she will be a healthy, happy girl.” After that conversation, I took the obligatory “time in prayer” to make sure I didn’t run any obvious red lights and the next morning, a Saturday, I sent an email to my coordinator, Subject: I want…, Body: …to be Mitike’s Mommy! A lanky, uniformed security guard rolled the gates open, and the car drove through.I opened the attachment in the email and slowly a photo of a tiny, sick-looking baby appeared; a tiny baby girl wearing a white zip-up sleeper with boats and cars and trucks on it. A few minutes later, I got a response (on a Saturday! We found ourselves in the middle of a complex of neat cement buildings.
There were many Mitikes and Mitikus (boy equivalent) in the center.” This little sweetie was just eight weeks old and relinquished by her grandparents. We settled our stuff into our room and went downstairs for a quick bite. After not having slept for 36 hours, my sister fell fast asleep. ” The car finally stopped before some imposing gates.
Throughout the conversation, her tone was vaguely flat and I was taken aback. The doctor reviewed the records and I planned to meet with him the next day. “Well, Kathy, the two-and-a-half year old looks fine. Her head circumference is extremely small even for her size.
I think you can count on a variety of physical and intellectual disabilities.
She is a PR and marketing professional for a college in northern Virginia. The nanny laughed and clapped her hands together and said the priceless words about my daughter being like chocolate.
The statement might have been offensive in another context, except there was nothing but excitement and admiration in her voice for this tiny, beautiful baby girl who was, indeed, the color of rich, beautiful milk chocolate.