Friday, March 1, 2013

In Rossi's Eyes

     I am Rossi's momma.  I'm all she knows.  She doesn't notice her family is mainly blonde and blue eyed.  We are who she loves, depends on.  Her innocence takes my breath.  I dread the day that is taken from her.
     The first time I held Rossi, she cried.  I guess I was presumptuous to assume she'd fall into my arms and love me.  I was a stranger.  We have really bonded recently.  To the point she only wants me, many times.  I'm all she knows as her momma.  Again, I dread the day the rug is pulled from under her.
     I'm preparing for her questions, her heartache.  I have the letter from orphanage about her birthmother.  Pictures.  She is young, no means to care for her.  I'm so grateful she chose life in a country where majority of pregnancies are aborted.  I was born to be Rossi's momma.  She was born to be mine.