Seven

Seven. Today I am thinking about the magical number 7. Seven years ago today, on 7/9/2007, a seven month old baby boy named Arman, chose me to be his mama. Now seven years and seven months old, Arman sometimes regrets that decision (or so he says). At the height of his anger he tells me he should have chosen someone else; in the depths of sadness he tells me I should have left him at the baby house. Fortunately, in these dark moments, I remember that many children his age plot ways to run away from home. I remind him of the Buddhist idea that we each choose the family to be born into long before we are even born. He had a second opportunity to choose a family, on July 9, 2007, seven years ago.

How does a seven month old baby living in the Shapagat Baby House in Karaganda, Kazakhstan go about choosing a family? First he is fed before his other hungry, crying roommates. Then he is bathed, diapered, and dressed in the softest, cleanest baby clothes. Then he “flirts” with Dr. Svetlana so that she is the one designated to carry him into the playroom (see photo below). Then he makes sure that he is the 4th out of 4 babies to meet the latest prospective parents (he had been through this drill the week before and had come away knowing it wasn’t necessarily the best strategy to be the first in the room). Finally, he practices his best smile and decides he will only smile if the strangers seem like they would be fun parents.

 When it is his turn, Dr. Svetlana carries Arman into the noisy playroom where three other caregivers, one holding a baby girl, two others holding boys, are shouting to the translator, campaigning for “their child” to be chosen. Baby Arman sees only one stranger in the playroom that day: a woman who had brown eyes and brown hair, just like him. A woman, all by herself, who looked nervous, but happy to be there. She had showered and put on fresh, soft clothes too. She smelled like Chanel No. 5. She listened to the translator announcing: “baby boy, Arman, born December 1st, 2006.” The woman smiled. The baby smiled back. And in that instant, they fell in love with each other.

But as the song goes, “wise men say, only fools rush in…” so baby Arman decided he needed to get to know this woman better; he needed to be cautious. He let her hold him and take his photo. He listened to her talking with the doctor and the translator. She smiled and laughed and looked into his eyes. She wasn’t nervous anymore. He had questions to ask her, but how does a seven month old baby ask a big person questions? How could he know if she would really be a good mama for him? He thought and thought and thought. In a flash of brilliance, baby Arman threw up all over the clean, soft dress the woman was wearing and the clean, soft clothes he was wearing. When she laughed and held on even tighter, he knew that this woman called Cindy should be his mama forever…