Five years ago, in a country thousands of miles away, a very brave woman was giving birth to a precious little boy. Did she have an epidural? Did she go all-natural? Was it a long labor or short? All questions I will most likely never have the answer to. But five years ago, this unknown woman and I became connected. Although neither of us knew it at the time, we would share the title of Omma to the same little boy.
Yesterday, I turned on the Korean lantern for First Omma. I have tried to remember to light it her honor on the day she relinquished Emmett, on his birthday, and on our finalization day. Emmett doesn't understand why I turn the lantern on these days, and he hasn't really asked. To me, it is my beacon to First Omma - maybe somehow she can feel it's light and know that her little boy is safe, and happy, and growing to be such a big boy.
Yesterday while I sloshed around in the knee deep warm water of the local aquatic center for Emmett's fifth birthday, I thought of her. I wondered if she thought of him that day. I said a silent prayer for her as Emmett got up the courage to go down the big water slide. "I wish you could see him now, First Omma. Lord, tell her he's happy, give her peace."
It is unbelievable that Emmett is now five years old. He's been with us two years already. Last night, after he fell asleep in bed after his exciting day, I looked into his room. There was the black hair sticking up against the pillow, a foot positioned in what would be a most uncomfortable place for most adults, and his arm holding the stuffed soccer ball that held his balloons to the ground. A flash of a memory from our first meeting - of this little toddler bowing to his new American parents played in my mind. He's already so different, I wished time would stop just briefly so I could capture the moment for a second more. But it doesn't, and more memories are left to be made as he sighed and rolled over. Dreaming of another day ahead.
Happy Birthday, little man.
