Empathetic Diaspora

Preface: A letter I wish I was given that retells the events of a corrupt government and permanent longing. A day that will haunt both a mother and her child eternally.

Dear Daughter, 

I assume that once you've read this, you would be vaguely aware of the origins of your birth. Your birth is when I started to live fully and unapologetically. Even when I was just surviving, I still felt alive, because I had you. Firstly, I want you to know that giving you up was the most painful decision a mother could make. A decision that no mother should have to make. Secondly, I want you to know where you came from. Your father and I were apart of the merchant class of the Yunnan province in China. In American terms, this means we were below the poverty level. Upon discovering my pregnancy with you, we were barely making enough to support the two of us. Your father owned a merchant stand in the Pan Long district, while I spent my time harvesting tea leaves for his stand. In this small city, hiding a pregnancy was near impossible. While we were also acknowledging that our country was communist and restrictive on newborns, we had two options. An illegal abortion, or to leave you in front of the Yiliu police station. We decided on the latter option, in hopes that you would find peace with an American family. I know that this will be hard for you and I cannot bear to think of your life in the states. The emptiness of picturing another woman claim you as her own is a sadness that will forever remain. Giving you up to the government will be the greatest sacrifice of my life. A sacrifice that has forced me to surrender my love, my heart, and a piece of my soul. I beg the universe that you will never feel this emotional imprint of sacrifice. I beg that you live without consequence of love. I believe that knowing you will be able to thrive in a place that is safe, warm, and above all else loving is what will push me through this lifetime. 

The rain poured differently the day you born. Almost like the clouds were mourning for me. Maybe even the sky knew the darkness that your absence would bring. While as dreary as that appears, the water smacking the concrete concealed your cries as well as mine. Which ultimately shielded your birth from the world. Your father, on the other hand, preferred to cry in solitude. A Chinese man that abided by the belief that emotions were a sign of weakness. But, you were our weakness. Although, I do not regret giving birth to you, as it as given me the power to feel a love so immense that I began to fight selfishly. I thought for a brief lapse of judgment, that I could keep you hidden. Away from political agendas and the power-driven dictators of our home. At that moment, I decided to keep you. That is, until hiding, you became life or death. And, we as parents would be useless dead.

We were able to sustain happiness for about 2 years before the authorities took notice of your presence. They say that good things go by fast, but those two years ended before I could even give you a name. Subconsciously, I knew that giving you a name would make everything real. You would be my daughter and having that title would put you in danger. So I didn’t give you a name, knowing that we could be torn apart at any moment. I questioned to myself if it would have been better to give you up at birth. As leaving you would have been easier for us, and less detrimental to your psychological development. While I stated previously, I was selfish and for that, I will be forever remorseful. 

I write to you on the very day that I have to give you up. This day will become my reality, as I will continue to live in the past from now on. Once again, I endure the hollowness of losing the only part of me that gave me hope. For the last time, the rain poured harder and more vicious than it ever had before. Because today was the day that you would no longer be mine. I will remember the last time that we exchanged our final goodbyes and how your almond-shaped eyes looked glassier than ever. I think you knew. That this would be the separation of your old life and the birth of a new one. One that didn’t include your father and I. It broke me, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t expose the anger, sorrow, or pain that was contained inside. Instead, I told you that you were a warrior. A warrior that would keep fighting when I no longer could. You would beat the odds of living in an orphanage and continue to prosper against adversity. This is what I told you because I needed to believe that for myself. Please believe, that I grasped the very last bit of you until the end.

After our exchange, your father kissed your forehead and placed a jade pendant around your neck for good fortune in your new life. This was his sacrifice as well as mine and the Jade represents our everlasting love for you. I hope that you will understand the restraint of our will to leave you. That this way was the only way you could grow and start a family of your own. Maybe one day, our paths will cross again and the rain will no longer sound like hail. Until then, I will retain the little time we had together and your big Chinese eyes. Cherish the people who are lucky enough to be gifted with a daughter so strong that she made it to America. Hold onto an image of us that portrays irrefutable compassion and weakness. As we will hold onto your memories that gave us the ability to love like no other. I leave you with this and a whisper. 

我爱你小姑娘( I love you little girl)

No matter where, 

Your mother