Seven years ago today, Eleanor was found. Maybe she was born that day; her umbilical cord was still attached when she was brought to the orphanage. Someone at the orphanage named her after the waves of the ocean, hoping that she would grow up healthy and strong. I wonder sometimes if her birth mother named her before they did - a first name, a secret name. Something that was whispered into her ear before propping a bottle and slipping away into the crowds. A wish for her to be loved, to be found, to find family. Maybe I've romanticized it too much, but I can't imagine a mother wishing for anything less. I have the name of the bus station employee who found her; I wonder what he thought of her that day. He must have been kind, and brave; he probably was interrogated by the local authorities, but he still thought it was important to answer her cries and make sure she was safe. The earliest picture I have of Eleanor was at a few months old (and we're so lucky to have pictures at all!); I can only imagine what her little newborn face looked like. She probably had a tuft of crazy black hair, and a puzzled look in her eyes that said, "What exactly is going on, anyway? Can I eat now?" (A look of hers I'm very familiar with, personally).

It's strange to have so little memory of the day your child was born; Dave dug through his archived e-mails to see what we were doing seven years ago. I was a single mother of three-year-old Sarah at that point; Dave and I had met a few months before and we had begun dating. Well, according to the old e-mail, he had given me a bouquet of gladiolus as a gift the week Eleanor was born, and we were discussing going to a star party at the observatory that weekend. I was at a time in my life when I wasn't sure if I was ever going to have more babies; but I was beginning to feel "found" again, too. I knew David was very special, and was probably going to be around for a very long time.

I don't really know if Eleanor misses China. She and Genevieve played a game in the car the other day as we drove around near Boulder, within view of the Flatirons. Genevieve said, "Look, Mommy. Up there in the mountains is the Great Wall of China! I like to climb the Great Wall of China!" (Genevieve is also the only 4-year-old American kid I know who exclaims, "Look, Mom - Chinese characters!" when she sees a Chinese restaurant sign.) Anyway, Eleanor chimed in with, "Yes, look Mommy, ni kan! Chinese!" Apparently China is everywhere we want it to be.

I smiled as my girls took themselves somewhere else, somewhere they've been, somewhere that feels as faraway as any other pretend place they might come up with in their play. And part of me also wept for what we're missing. It's only a 15 hour flight, after all - but it feels a world away. Eleanor hasn't had an emotional breakdown for a very long time now. In fact, the last time I've seen her openly grieve was for only a moment while talking with her foster mother on the phone a few weeks ago, and that seemed to be a mixture of joy and sorrow, rather than the rage and despair we saw during our first days together. Crying these days consists of pouty tears when something doesn't go her way (like Evil Mommy offering her a banana and milk for an afternoon snack instead of candy and soda - horrors). I asked her today if she wanted to call her "Zhonggua Mama" (China Mama - our name for her foster mother). I posed the question several times in both Mandarin and English before she responded. Then she said, "No, Mommy," and kept on playing happily with her sisters. I felt sad about that, but didn't want to push her, either.

I'm seeing so many changes in Eleanor as she becomes more confident and more able to communicate with us. Some things worry me; she isn't using grammatically correct Mandarin much, and seems reluctant to speak Chinese much at all. Sometimes I'm the one asking her questions in Mandarin, and she answers in English! I'm afraid she may be losing her language. I haven't found a good class for her; summer isn't the best time to look, it would seem - the Chinese schools I've found aren't accepting new students until fall, and the Colorado Chinese Heritage Camp this August is full with a waiting list. If anybody has suggestions for Boulder area weekend Mandarin classes for kids - I could sure use the pointers!

Anyway, today was such a happy day. Grandma came over, and we had a barbeque and enjoyed the garden. Eleanor loved opening her gifts and it was a beautiful day to be outside. It was a day just for her, and it felt so good to have everyone together for her first birthday since becoming a family. Here are some pictures from the day:

Everybody got plenty of cake. Some of it even ended up in their tummies.

As the children headed upstairs to get the chocolate off their faces and get ready for bed, I took a red helium balloon from the bunch in our kitchen, and went outside to let it go. As I watched it sail upwards, I said a silent thank you to Eleanor's birthmother for bringing her into the world, and to everyone who loved her before I could get to her. I'm so glad Eleanor was born, and I'm so glad she's home. I'm a lucky, lucky mommy.

P.S. By the way, I have rethought the helium balloon release thing since actually doing it. I had a hunch that it might not be such a good idea after thinking about it a while, and Googled for "helium balloon release" only to find horrid stories about whales choking on deflated balloons, etc. Since I can't bear the thought of choking a whale, I'll be lighting a candle next time, instead of sending floating litter into the air.