When Chelsea was born she weighed ten pounds. The baby clothes that were given to her were to small. Sadly ever the hand made ones that my Belle Mere (Mother in Law) made would never fit either.
When the midwives and doctor saw her they said, "She is Chinese! A little budda! Look that round face, and her eyes!"
The Doctor smiled, he was Chinese. He asked if I was part Chinese? I said, "Other than going through a faze where I used chopsticks for over a year…no." Then I asked French Husband, "And you?"
He shook his head, he was too happy crying that he could not utter a word.
We had a baby that looks like the Chinese babies I have seen in China. Round, glowing and Budda like.
Months later people on the streets of Paris continued to ask me if my baby was Chinese.
When out and about with our good friend Hi Kyung Kim she often was mistaken as Chelsea's mother. When Hi Kyung would tell them she wasn't Chelsea's mother, and that I was. Then they would ask, "Oh your husband is Chinese!" As if I was married to Hi Kyung's brother.
Hi Kyung Kim would say, "I am Korean, and her husband is French."
Most the time the Parisian would walk away thinking we didn't understand.
The guessing game of why I was the mother of a Chinese looking baby included that Chelsea was adopted.
As she grew I began to think she was when instead of calling me, "Mommy," she called me Corey instead.
Somewhere deep within our beings we are who we are which is one and all.
Not defined by birthplace, culture, religion, nor fact.
Intertwined with the soul of the universe.
While in China many people would ask if Chelsea was French Husband's daughter.
Then they woud look at me….
I could see by their faces, the same look that I get in France and the States…
"Where does this lady fit in the picture?"
If I hadn't seen Chelsea come from my own womb I might start believing what I others have thought….
If I hadn't breastfed her through many of late nights and for nearly two years, I might have thought I didn't have a role in her height and well being.
But the truth I am the mom of that baby that looked Chinese, that was taller than me at eleven years old, and who started calling me Mommy after she turned four and who never went through the terrible twos or teens.
In fact many times I use to say to her, "Can I put you in a box, I want to keep you like this!"
Which means we (French Husband and I) are: Lucky. Happy. Blessed. Rich, to have had a baby who looked Chinese, grew up, went to China to study which encouraged us to visit her there.
The path ahead is unknown, though the path of love is set out before us. Each step in its direction brings us full circle…. Unknown and loving.
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