It was a painful time for me, for I suffered from an illness and might never be able to have a child. As my 40th birthday approached, I began, for the first time, to notice babies and their happy, smiling mothers wherever I went.
One night, I came to a cafe to kill the boring time. An elegantly dressed, sightly older woman was seated next to me.
"Would you like to see a picture of my daughter?" she asked me, handing me a photo of a smiling Chinese girl. The child was about seven years old and was wearing a Snow White costume. That's Melanie, now in the first grade," she said. I could hear the motherly pride in her voice. "She's pretty," I said. "I love her costume." The woman explained that she felt strongly about teaching her daughter about Chinese customs and maintaining ties to her shoes. "What made you decide to adopt her?" I asked. "I didn't want work to be my whole life," she said.
I'm not sure if she saw the tears in my eyes as I replied, I don't either, but I'm afraid it's too late." I was 51 when I adopted Melanie, she said. "And it's the most rewarding, exciting thing I've ever done."
When my husband and I returned from China with our nine-month-old daughter, Madeline, in November 2017, Jill was one of the first people I e-mailed. I did it!" I wrote. "I'm a mother and she's beautiful"
"Congratulations," she wrote back. We recently reconnected on Facebook, and I told her, "You changed my life."
