Meeting My Babies Part 3: The Child Not Chosen

Meeting Ylia

The Child Not Chosen

I chose
my babies by birth
in the quiet before you were born.

I did not know you.
I did not choose you.

I chose
Bella as my own.
With Bella you shared a roof.
With Bella you shared Mamas.

But I did not know you.
I did not choose you.

I chose
Borya as a son of my heart.

With Borya you shared distant memories of another roof.
Of another mother.

But I did not know you
and I did not choose you.

I was told I could take Borya as my son.
Not just of my heart
but of my home. My family.

I chose to begin the journey that would take me to him.

I was told
by men unknown to me
from the land of your birth
that I was to be your mother.

I did not know you.
I did not choose you.

Others chose you.

I heard words.
I heard special needs.
I heard ten years old.
I heard if Borya was to be my child
you would be my child.

I was angry.
I did not choose you.



God chose you.



God chose me.




God tried to quiet my angry heart and take me by the hand to lead me to you.
But I was angry and hid my hands behind my back.

I crossed dark oceans and sleeping lands.
I found myself in the land of your birth.
I found myself in a sorrowful building.

I was reunited with my son
and cried tears of joy.
My heart was full.

I did not choose you.

I found myself looking towards an opening door.
I found myself looking into beseeching eyes.

Eyes of loneliness
Eyes of questions
Eyes of searching and longing and hope.

Could I choose you?

I came to see you.
I came to know you.

I looked in your beautiful eyes.

Eyes of love
Eyes of joy
Eyes of mischief
Eyes of searching and longing and hope.

Eyes of God.

Eyes of my daughter.

I choose you.
I choose you.
I choose you.

Daughter of my heart
Daughter of my family
Daughter of God.

I choose you.