Letter to Max

Dear Max,
Today is your birthday, you are seven years old. We were really hoping to be able to visit you in Russia this month, but now it looks like it'll be sometime late next month...
I have to wonder what it's like to celebrate your birthday in an orphanage. Does anyone say anything to you? Any birthday songs, cake or surprises? Probably not. Sorry little dude. Here at home we are celebrating your birthday with dinner at a restaurant, and birthday cake. We wish you could come to your birthday party.
I have to wonder it was like the day your mother gave birth to you. Was it a long and painful labor, or a relatively painless one like the ones I had... I wish I had been there to meet you as a tiny baby, to count your toes, and nuzzle your sweet baby neck. I'll bet you were pretty darned cute.
I wish I had been there a year later when your mother realized she couldn't take care of you, and left you in your fathers arms. She must have known there was a better life for you somewhere out there. She probably never guessed that you would end up with a new Mama in a new country on the other side of the planet. As painful as your little life has been, I know that God has a plan for your life, and I am so thrilled that I get to be a part of it. You are an amazing, resiliant little dude, and I can't wait to call you my son. (Who am I kidding, I knew you were my son before I sent you back to Russia!)

С Днем Рождения Макс, мама тебя любит

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