Falling in Love

A Message From Candace Abel

I believe in "love at first sight." You know... that wonderful, giddy love that occurs in an instant when you least expect it. You look across a room full of people, and see a face that lassos your soul in a rush of warm emotion. Friends and family would argue that a life-long commitment had to be based on rational thought and common values, not instant attraction. None the less, there was nothing rational about the love I felt when I first met my husband. I simply looked up, felt my heart stand still and was his forever.

I remember experiencing "love at first sight" when I held my newborn babies for the first time. The fierceness of the love I felt took me quite by surprise. With each new baby I stared with wonder unable to look away from their perfect faces. I watched them as they slept, inhaled their heady scents and dreamed of their soft cheeks at night. To my amazement, the same held true when my husband and I began our journey of adoption. With each official letter of match came the photo; beautiful and haunting eyes stared out from little round, hopeful faces that made me weak in the knees and caused my breath to quicken. I trembled with the pure joy that one knows when they are looking fate in the eye; my child, my beautiful child waiting a world away. There was nothing rational about loving a photograph, but rationality had nothing to do with what I felt. And when I held them in my arms for the first time, whether at an airport or a foreign hotel lobby, I experienced the dizzying rush of overwhelming love.

After marrying the man of my dreams and parenting three beautiful biological babies and six wonderful adopted children, I believed that my love-struck days were over. It was time to pass the Mantle of The Hopelessly Romantic on to my children who had often heard the colorful stories of our romance and their advent into our family. As a woman in her forties, I wanted only to watch my children grow and experience all their "firsts." It was to experience such a "first"" that my beautiful 16-year-old Vietnamese daughter and I traveled to her birth country on a Motherland Tour with MAPS in July. As we explored fascinating sites and historic areas, Mai rediscovered her heritage. Having adopted her at the age of eight, I watched with wonder as Mai embraced Vietnam the way one does an old friend. Her face glowed as she excitedly recognized places she had been or always wanted to visit. I listened as her Vietnamese language skills quickly honed into fluent prose from her conversations with local people. She shared stories, both funny and sad, that had long lain dormant inside her. I watched her open up and blossom and realized that I did not know how her soul had hungered for her culture.

Along the way, I realized that we had made lifelong relationships with our fellow travel companions of adoptive families and their children, and that we owed MAPS a debt of gratitude. And somewhere else along the way, I realized that Mai-Lynn experienced "love at first sight." During the tour we visited a number of orphanages where some of the children had lived. When we toured Mam Non II outside of Ho Chi Minh City, we were treated to a beautiful show by the children at the center, when Mai-Lynn looked over and was struck by the "sweet look of Alyssa's face." After the show, Mai-Lynn shared a few hours of chit-chat with Alyssa before they exchanged addresses and we went on our way. Over the next couple of days, Alyssa was all Mai-Lynn could talk about. Mai related that Alyssa had been in the orphanage for eight years, was a good student, and was soon going to be fifteen years old. She clearly identified with Alyssa as both their mothers had mental health issues and she understood how it felt to want the love of a family. With some earnest begging from Mai, I agreed we would travel back to the orphanage so Mai could visit with Alyssa before we left for home. As I watched them embrace one last time, I recognized the look of fierce love on their little faces. They had become soul sisters. Before I knew it, I was traveling back to file the adoption papers.

All went well on my first trip to file Alyssa's adoption papers in Vietnam. While visiting with her at the orphanage, I decided to stroll through the special needs baby room. One of the caregivers handed me a sweet-faced, delicate baby girl. As an experienced romantic, I should have seen it coming, but somehow I didn't. I held her in my arms and fell in love. I barely heard the director tell me she was blind and premature. I handed her back and left, trembling; but it was too late. I tried to rationalize that I was too old to parent a sick baby, I already had a house full of children, and I knew nothing about the visually impaired. In the end, all the self-talk did not matter... Emily had captured my heart.

Friends thought we were crazy and our parents cautioned us against it, but on the day before Thanksgiving we brought home our two new daughters. Alyssa and Mai were reunited in a tearful embrace and Emily was greeted with a million kisses from her excited siblings. To this day, curious people frequently ask me about our motivation to adopt Emily and Alyssa; about the conscientious and rational thought we must have put into it. I always answer... there was nothing rational at all about bringing home a nervous 14-year-old and a blind and frail 14-month-old. I simply looked up, felt my heart stand still and was theirs forever.