Bedtime with Malot was my favorite time. Momma and Malot slept in one bed. We'd snuggle close, face-to-face in soft light of the bedside lamp. I'd stroke his cheek and smile at him. He'd stroke my cheek back. I would tell him over and over that Momma and Poppa loved him (renmen Malot) that we were so excited to be able to be a family with him. I'd stroke his cheek and whisper to him about how wonderful we think he is. I'd say, 'I'm your Momma and you are my pitit gason." Over and over, we'd share these little whispers as he settled down for sleep.
One night, he was ill in the middle of the night. I got up and helped him to the bathroom. When we got him cleaned up, I tucked him back into bed next to me again and started again on our little snuggly whisper bed time routine: "Mama renmen Malot. Malot is Mama's pitit gason."
His eyes started to get a bit heavy, so I turned off the lights and rolled over to prepare to go back to sleep myself.
His happy thought. My heart nearly burst as I realized that he's been waiting for his whole life for a mommy that just wants to be with him and tuck him in and tell him that he's her little son.
We need them as much as they need us.
Come home soon, my pitit gason.